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chocochiffonnn · 4 months ago

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➸ Pairing: Boss! Park Sunghoon x Reader

➸ Word Count: 18k.

➸ Synopsis: Landing your first job at a high and well-respected corporation is a big deal. You had the skills, the knowledge, and luckily— the patience of being the secretary of an overbearing man. When things are starting to get a little smoother in navigating his demands, you were suddenly sent on a business meeting to France. And what's worse? You were going to the trip with him alone.Or basically, a story in which you navigate your true feelings in the streets of Paris, and ultimately, go home devastated.

➸ Themes: kind of enemies to lovers, work AU.

➸ Warnings: Sunghoon is mean at first, reader doesn't give in easily kind of, a bit of angst if you squint, SUGGESTIVE!!! (not comfy? leave.) i kind of also rushed the ending lol.

➸ Author's Note: HERE IT ISSSS! i hope you guys enjoy reading my second full fic on this account! this was so fun to make. as usual, reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated. tysm! ^_^

➸ Taglist: @em-asian @ikeumina @weyukinluv @mariegibeau @rairaiblog @immelissaaa @seokseokjinkim @jaehaki @saeeeee5 @areumhwang2000 @cutehoons02 @fancypeacepersona @sadgirlluvsmoney @gizellesaeriaaaa @stta-princess

FOR YEARS ON END— INSTANT NOODLES LEFT A BITTER TASTE IN YOUR MOUTH.

‘The Combo of 3C’s’ as though you’d like to call it. Cup noodles. Canned goods. Cheap soups. Any affordable but edible dish the market had for a broke college student attempting to survive. With piles and piles of loans, an hour of sleep per day and practically being slaved off to society— somehow, through luck, you’re still alive and thriving.

Perhaps not so the same for your arteries or blood vessels practically gnawing away at the ultimately highly processed foods you ate per day, point still stands.

You’re alive and thriving, at age 23, on the way to your first job— Park Corporation.

The degree that you slaved away to landed you this huge job. This huge fucking ass job.

Which perhaps is worth the hellish four years you've spent suffering, because you've heard of this before. Scratch that, you've heard of this everywhere. Park Corporations, one of the leading companies in Korea. If not, the leading company of Korea. Known for its hefty business and sales, this corporation practically thrives in wealth and riches.

Oh, and for you to land such a job for your first time?

That much was a feat. You were not only lucky, but also skilled. It was a given by now, with the way the Rolls Royce of these employees dropped off at the ridiculously large glass walls of the company, do you realize that— class matters. And status matters.

And luckily, you took matters into your own hands prior to leaving your house. You wore pinstripe trousers paired with black kitten heels and a fitted white button up, your hair was put in a sleek ponytail, and your wrist and neck was adorned with necklaces and bracelets that shone with simplicity. An outfit that commanded attention, and an aura that screamed tenacity.

You looked as presentable as ever, no loops, no error, and no gaps in the system. Because from the years of navigating through life, you remained certain for one thing— you allowed room for no mistakes. This was your only shot in making your years at work as smooth as it could possibly be with these bigshots, and ultimately, this first day will mark the rest of your working life.

And so, you entered the company with a confident stride. Bold, brave, and daring, absolutely determined to experience the taste of anything else but instant noodles.

The pristine walls of the facility felt dystopian.

After inquiring over at the counter, ultimately already being recognized as the newly hired employee in addition to the supposed planning department, you were redirected to an office at the fifteenth floor.

At the fifteenth fucking floor.

Now, you usually never assumed floors as the basis for employee importance, but you kind of did now. Probably a hierarchal thing that a pyramid usually is. The higher you are, the better.

The floor was busy, as in, busy, busy. Upon your presence at the elevator, some employees walked like crazy all over the place. Making calls and inquiries, group discussions over some papers—

“Excuse me, I—”

“Not now miss, the department is busy.”

“Excuse me?”

It came so suddenly, a response from a short, stubby guy who was conversing in a discussion with one of the employees. It was definitely directed at you, but you just had to make sure,

“Who are you and why are you here? Miss, questions are entertained over at the counter at the ground floor, not here—”

“Oh, I’m actually told to go here.”

“What?”

The short stubby guy halts his conversation with the other employee. Suddenly, it felt like no one was too busy anymore, it was no longer noisy. “The person at the counter told me to go here. I’m going to be the new employee.”

You emphasized the I’m part. To let him know you know your place and that you aren’t budging in like what he was visibly implying with the frown on his face. His distaste was as clear as day. “We’ve not been informed that a new employee will join this department.”

You were surprised, “Really? I was told down there this department should already know and that I’ll be directed and guided directly by the employees here.”

"Really? We should be informed about it then. Since we are not—"

"I can accompany you over at the counter to testify my response if you doubt me... Sir."

Yikes. That honorifics felt forced.

No one dared to interrupt, you hear a few gasps from some of the employees. Hell, even the short guy was stunned and once again, visibly offended. "Excuse me?"

"Or if there's a phone connecting this department with the counter, we can—"

"There is absolutely no need. I shall confirm it myself."

"... Alright." You nod, oblivious to his stomps as he walked over your direction. He stood a few steps away, eyeing you up and down, down and up. Well, that goes for your first impression here at the company. You didn’t eye him, but you stared at him in question. He looked like he was in his mid-30’s, with a mustache, bald spot, and all that.

You dared not budged, as if challenging him, telling him— No, you don’t get to say that. I know what I heard.

But he looked stubborn, so you chose not to press and silently follow his tantrum steps down to the ground floor, opting to stay a few distances away from the man.

“Yes, she’s assigned over at the planning department, starting today.”

The registrar at the counter, as poised as ever, typing away at her laptop. She’d just confirmed what you’d heard. You looked at the man who was stunned beyond belief. “What do you mean? Don’t all newly hired employees go to—”

“Orientation? Yes, that was last week, Mr. Kim.”

Mr. Kim, huh?

You felt his blood boil, the clench on his fist tightened as his bald spot fumed like a volcano. (if that was even possible)

“No, we can’t—”

The clerk suddenly bounced to her feet, closing her laptop and disregarding the man as she left her table and scurried off. “Yah! The conversation is not yet done, Yeri—”

“The Parks have arrived!”

She— Yeri, intervenes, stomping through her heels and walking towards the entrance along with the other employees who seemed to have gotten the memo. It seemed this Mr. Kim was stunned too, following Yeri as he shouted, “What are you doing just standing there?! Line up!”

With a nod, you followed him towards the entrance and group along a couple employees chattering about the Parks in an aimless manner,

“Mr. Sungwoo has called in a meeting today for the company plans after being discharged from the hospital.”

“Really?! I hope the CEO isn’t pushing himself too hard, working shouldn’t even be an option in that state.”

“I know right?! But I guess he really loves this company and his family.”

“Speaking of family, I heard the CEO is bringing his children along.”

“You mean Park Sunghoon and Park Yeji? Gosh! I’d kill to see them in person.”

“You’d pass out in person. They’re just as beautiful and attractive as the news make them out to be!”

The Parks. A family who owned the company you are to work in. You’ve seen them before, in news and television. Headlines surrounding their reputation never faltered, neither did it bounce off to another company’s name. The Parks remained consistent, perhaps their lineage being that lucky to be blessed with business minded people who strive towards perfection. In this case, perfection in work and in looks.

Park Sungwoo— coined as the CEO of the company. It had been twelve years since he inherited the job from his father, described by the press as a worhkaholic ever since he stepped into the realm of business.

His wife, Park Soojin, though not entirely being the center of attention, was described to be just as meticulous. You don’t know much about her, though.

And as describes by the media— the golden children, per se, Park Sunghoon and Park Yeji.

Park Yeji— 18, a fashion design major. Someone who strayed away from the family inheritance, seemingly going down a path of her own with her creatives.

And Park Sunghoon, the soon to be CEO of the company. Someone sharp, quick-witted, and too prepared for his own good. He looked too stoic, too robotic. His response during interviews were concise, he barely laughed, smiled, no crinkles or smile lines were visible on his face, which made you think he must be a humanoid or something.

No one can deny the fact that the genes of the family deemed strong, though. God, they were sculpted to perfection.

The employees halted their chattering, an indicator that the family was here. All eyes pointed towards the building, the employees and guards lined up. Then, they came in.

Park Sungwoo, Park Sunghoon, and Perk Yeji in the flesh. Their prim and proper suits and perhaps million dollar shoes reverberating through the room. Hell, the cameras don’t even come close to what they look like in real life.

“Good morning!”

The employees bowed, confused, you bowed as well. You stood up, in utter awe of their presence in full sight. They walked with respect, nodding at the short greetings coming upon them. Park Sungwoo grins, so does Park Yeji. But Sunghoon doesn’t, opting to nod along as he meddled with the sleeve of his vest.

Then you see him, and he sees you.

It doesn’t matter that it was but a brief moment, it was a moment regardless.

Thus marked your first technical interaction amongst plenty with him.

And today, this one, would at most be the most peaceful one you’d have yet.

When things don’t go according to plan, you somehow, always found a way.

Prior to working at Park Corporations, you’d always consider yourself to be someone observant and keen with details. Paired with a rather straightforward mouth and a mind that had a single goal— work for you had to be piles of paper riddled with precision and absolutely no mistakes at all.

It had been around a year of tapping your way into this industry, specifically, a department which had more or less appreciated your presence in the very room. One of who, is your co-worker, Kim Sunoo, who you became close with the moment you started working. He was quite the opposite, optimistic and bright in ever circumstances, it was like the universe circled in his head like a halo.

Navigating through the office and the workload had been easier because of his guidance, much like right now. The two of you meticulously worked on a particular paper, thoroughly scanning its premises before it was to be passed on to the next department .

“The plan is too out of reach, the budget department won’t approve of this.” Sunoo says, flipping through the papers as he ran his hand through his hair. “They won’t even consider it as an option.”

You follow, taping a sticky note with a commentary— to be returned— written on it. It was a particular Wednesday morning, the middle of the week sickness had gotten to you and you find yourself lazying away a bit more than usual. For some people, it was Monday. For you, it just had to be Wednesday.

And somehow, you just had to receive a sudden memo.

A memo which contained a direct visit from the CEO and his son himself. Supposedly, they were going through different departments for monitoring, and it was safe to say you had the privilege of being visited any minute.

“Good morning, Mr. Sungwoo! Mr. Sunghoon!”

Or perhaps, that moment was right now.

You quickly stood up, Sunoo does too, surprised at the sudden appearance. You are totally not informed it would be this soon. All of the employees bowed, a string of tension hanging in the air as they awaited the two men. Mr. Sungwoo looks around, hands on his back as he, as usual, smiled gently at his employees. And as usual, Park Sunghoon only nods.

“How is the department going on here? Any significant changes?”

Sunoo nudges you,

“Ah.”

You almost forgot. You were the department head now.

You quickly grabbed your clipboard, approaching the two men as you scanned through the contents of the compiled papers the department had been working on.

You stood a few steps away from Mr. Sungwoo, his brow raised as he awaits for your response. Mr. Sunghoon simply stares, blank written on his face. “As for the past month’s progress, the planning department has approved of five ongoing projects per department that seemed doable with the budget and premises at hand.”

You flip through a page, “this department also proposed a few projects in its own with regards to the company’s revenue.”

“And what might those be?”

Mr. Sungwoo seemed intrigued with the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself in front of him. Endless scanning through these papers and analyzing their probabilities and occurence was a routine, and by this point, you even had some of the project proposals memorized like the back of your hand.

So, when you finished proposing after what seemed like an hour, Mr. Sungwoo was stunned. Both by the preparedness, and the fact that he perhaps had to stand for half an hour listening to your yapping. The employees, albeit having the urge to sit down, listened aimlessly at the way you presented. Of course, the papers would not have been this organized if not for the fact that they too, worked hard to make it happen.

“I see everything is already under control. Who is your assistant in this department?”

You raise a brow, “Kim Sunoo, sir.”

“Do you say he works well under different circumstances?”

“… Yes, sir.”

He nods, “I’ll have my secretary get in touch with you then.”

Without another word, the two left the department office, leaving you dumbfounded and at loss for words. What in the world?

And that, officially, would mark your second interaction with Park Sunghoon.

One of the many, insufferable, ones you’d yet to encounter in the future.

A week after, you were met with major changes in your department.

Major. Major changes. Not the— a new co-worker has transferred into your department changes— type of change. But someone is transferring,

And that someone is you.

After being called into the office of the CEO, Mr. Sungwoo tells you he finds himself in a predicament, stuck between three options. He told you he would rather have his secretary deal with the issue at hand, but given that the circumstances would require the most encouraging words with not from anyone else but himself, he opted to send you in and announce something shocking.

Shocking, as in, scary, catastrophic, dangerous, and freaking— what the actual fuck?!?— type of response. The type of shock that had even your poised ass in front of him all stumbling and hesitating. Because what the actual fuck?

These were his statements during your discussion with him:

1. Mr. Sungwoo, the CEO of one of the largest corporations is getting old.

2. He is considering to pass on his position to his son, Park Sunghoon.

3. Park Sunghoon has already trained and managed for years on end, earning him the trust from his father.

4. The following shift in agendas would require Park Sunghoon to have a secretary by his side.

5. He offered the secretary position to you.

6. He apologized beforehand.

7. He also told you some encouraging words, if that made things a little better.

The last part was comparable to a warning, a little cautionary signal that told you to stray away. You had a choice, it was to take the job or leave it.

Simply put— risk the chance for a higher pay or remain satisfied and contented with what you earn now.

And to be even more simply put— deal with the fucking consequences or abstain and repeat every office morning routine.

And you never back down for a challenge, much less, the opportunity of earning more money at that.

So what’s a little shift in schedule have to do with anything? You’re still working, and though the tides may turn differently in your field of work, it doesn’t matter.

It’s just a little risk, right?

The first task of officially being given the title of secretary was simple, it was to accompany Park Sunghoon’s schedule each day of the week. After being dispatched and told you are the start immediately the following day, needless to say, some adjustments had to be made in the span of a few hours.

After bidding playful goodbyes with your co-workers the previous day, you urgently began to fix your schedule for tomorrow and perhaps, for the rest of this whole ordeal. You ultimately got the gist of what his schedule would be during weekdays, so that was a start. But first, it all begins with Mr. Sunghoon’s work time. The last time you’d seen him enter the building, it was a little over thirty minutes after the official call time.

8:30.

Park Sunghoon arrives. With your best foot forward, you strut towards his limousine as the guard opens the door and out came the man in full glory. Dressed in his suit, he looked as handsome as ever, bathing in his white skin. God, he looked like a vampire. A very, very hot vampire.

“Good morning, sir.”

You greet, Sunghoon briefly looks at you, raises a brow, before continuing to walk along like you had not exist.

…. Okay?

“Mr. Park, starting today, I’m going to be the secretary under your position.”

His long legs keep on walking and you try your best to keep up. “Can you stop following me?”

You were flabberghasted beyond belief. What stupid words to come out from such a terribly attractive man!

“Sir, I have to. I’m the new secretary.”

Déjà Vu much?

“I don’t need a secretary. Who put you in that position?”

“Your father, sir.”

Sunghoon stops in his tracks, sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. At this point, the two of you are already at the elevator. You somehow managed to keep up with long-legged man. “I already told my father I don’t need a secretary.” Sunghoon says, stern, decisive. Not once had he even spared a glance that lasted more than a second, but you are not one to back down.

“And your father told me sir that you very well need one before he gives you his position.”

“I don’t need one, are you deaf?”

Something in your system boils, suddenly, you find yourself clenching your jaw and balling your fist. Keep calm, keep calm. It’s only the first day.

The first freaking degradading comment ever out of million ones that’ll presumably come out of his mouth. Now, you took the hint as to why his father apologized. Now, you know why his face looked sympathetic the moment he talked to you.

It’s because his son had such a colorful way with words. In short— Park Sunghoon is rude.

And to work under someone who spouted such nonsense when all you want to do is get business straight?

He’s gotta be kidding you.

“By all means, sir. This is by the order of your father. I am not deaf, I would highly appreciate it if you don’t speak to me in such a manner.”

Sunghoon’s ears perked as the elevator door opens. You still walked alongside him, though at a much more paced and less hurried manner. “Oh? And how should I be talking to you?” He wasn’t looking at you, but you can feel a smirk gnawing away at his face.

“With respect, sir. I may only be an employee, but we should get things straight. I am here for my job, and you are rude.” You sigh, “So I would appreciate it if you cooperate a bit more and make things a little bit easier for the both of us.”

There it was, the word rude, coming straight at him in quick speed. And when Park Sunghoon stops in his tracks, you know you’ve caught him.

He turns around, raising a brow, “Rude? Me? Do you know what you sound like talking to your boss right now?”

“Okay— this argument is over with. You comply and agree that you are my boss, and I am the secretary. Clear? You said it yourself, Mr. Park.”

Needless to say, Sunghoon bit back his words. Cat got his tongue? You’ve caught a little loophole in his choice of sentences, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you somewhat satisfied. Good for him.

“Now for today’s agenda, you have a meeting in five with—”

“I know. I don’t need you telling me.”

With that, Sunghoon storms off like a little kid that had their candy taken away from them. A professional little kid. He knows you had him beat right now, and he refuses to admit it anyways.

You smiled.

You: 1 point.

Park Sunghoon: 0.

It’s always really the moment when you least expect it.

One moment, you were a minute away from your dismissal time.

The next, Sunghoon is already in front of your desk in his office, with piles of paperwork to be encoded, sorted, and submitted by tonight. Tonight as in— in four hours time.

He was definitely doing it on purpose, with the way he grins so smugly when he saw your horrified face at the stash of documents as big as his ego. You were all powdered and cologned up, ready to finally debrief and sink into your bed, but Park Sunghoon is a menace. He isn’t letting you have all of that glory.

“I need these by tonight.” He says, you can see him fighting back a laugh. “Tonight?” You confirm. He nods not once, not twice, but thrice. Very, very, slowly too. He was taunting you, his actions made you internally rip your hair out.

You scan through the files to check their due date— for fuck’s sake! They were due the following week!

“Mr. Park, some of these are due next week,” You say, as you confirm some of the paper's dates, yet Sunghoon only nods, “I want to clear my desks and tasks as soon as possible, it’s why I need them by tonight.”

Sunghoon smiles, gently smiles. But you know better. “First day on the job secretary? I have a lot more of those.”

He then turns to leave.

You feel your anger bubble up, it was obvious he wanted to rile you up. And the worst part? It was working. You hated missed deadlines, you hated procastinating, most of all, you hated work that was beyond your schedule for that certain day.

But you refrained from shouting, the unprofessional action will immediately have you fired. Instead, you sighed ever so heavily and sat your weight down your the chair.

It looks like you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight.

The torture didn’t stop there.

Park Sunghoon had tricks up sleeve. It had to be his talent or something— pissing you off that is.

For the first few weeks, his days consisted of everything and anything that’ll annoy any sane being and turn them into a tyrant.

For one, he refuses to drink his coffee if it isn’t a specific temperature. He keeps a thermometer lying around, every time you deliver him your morning coffee, it would have to be a specific temperature depending on his mood.

And when he doesn’t get it?

He makes you repeat it.

Two, he started stashing all of his assigned paperworks over to you when you least expect it. Given the first occurence during your first day, it was certain that Park Sunghoon was bound to do it again. And he does, every single time he felt like it.

When the day seemed to be going too well, Park Sunghoon was there to shove a mountain full of papers in front of your face.

Three, he modifies his schedule. Not just a couple of tweaks here and there, but he modifies his scheduled tasks for the whole entire week, rescheduling it in a certain day he deemed fit. And the worst part? You had to be the one to call and reach out to these schedules at hand in order to organize the schedules and tell them that Park Sunghoon has had a change of heart.

There is a fourth one, a fifth, a sixth, his tactics ranged and stretched into a hundred. And the worst part for him?

You handled it frustrated, but you handled it nonetheless. Not with ease, yet with the required professionalism and patience for the job. He’s immature that’s for sure, but it was obvious he was doing to it to spite you.

It frustrates you, but you refuse to show that to him. And it frustrates him too, yet he refuse to let you see it. So, it was a back and forth process of Sunghoon torturing you with everything, and you dealing with it in a way that it tortures him as well.

You could feel it, you could sense that he wanted to put you down from the position, to have you let go of the spot because he was too much, or too strict, or too annoying. However, you remain persistent. You were not letting Sunghoon get the best of you.

He wants his coffee at a specific temperature and keeps demanding you to make it to his liking?

Fine, you’ll reheat the coffee and burn your fingertips regardless.

He piles up his paperworks onto your shoulders?

Fine, you’ll get them done and look like a zombie the following day.

He tweaks his schedule in the most unimaginable ways possible?

Fine, you’ll deal with the hassle of the receiving end shouting at you for making sudden changes

He wasn’t going to make you leave the spot you’ve worked so hard for.

“I need these by tomorrow, have them arranged right away.” Came another pile of folders. It was a routine by now, each night, Park Sunghoon would load your table with this. At this point, your eyes were riddled with dark circles, your lips were cracked and dry from all the endless nibbling away.

You had no snarky response coming along his way, you only nodded. You were intent on finishing the task as soon as possible, every second counted. Arguing with him would simply waste a solid ten seconds.

You spent those ten seconds typing away, folding one of the finished folder, grabbing the rest of the stack for arranging. You didn’t really feel Sunghoon’s presence, but he was already behind your back. From the reflection of your desktop, you see his arms crossed.

“Sir, it’s 11 PM, you should be going home by now.”

Perhaps there was some bitterness in the tone. You don’t see it, but Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “It’s good.”

“What?”

“That—”

He points towards the file, “You work good.”

You had to cleanse your ears upon hearing what he’d just said. No way. All drowsiness from your eyes dissipated and you were left shocked, “Excuse me?”

Sunghoon coughs, “I’m going. Make sure you finish that by tonight.”

Your back was turned against him, so you don’t see him leave. You couldn’t.

Fuck. What was that?

It goes on for a few more days.

It’s odd.

Park Sunghoon demands a redo of his coffee, not five times, but only twice now. He gives you the same amount of work, but stays behind a couple minutes to comment on your work albeit it being positive or negative. He doesn’t just leave without notice anymore. And his changes with his schedule become less frequent— all the annoying and meticulous things about it lessened.

And you don’t know whether you should be creeped out or glad.

“You have a meeting with the HR department in an hour,” Flipping through your clipboard, you step inside the elevator with him. It had currently been two months since you’ve been given the position. Physically? You already lost a couple of pounds due to skipping meals and staying up late from Park Sunghoon’s orders. Mentally? It felt like your mind was suffering from intense drought.

Financially? You were doing great. Better than great. You were sustaining more than enough, even having left over money to spend on new work clothes. The job was brutal, but it had you elevating from your old economic status.

You ticked one of the box from the checklist, Sunghoon does not respond. No snarky comments, no barking back. He just nods. “Not much schedule for this afternoon. Your father requests for your presence at dinner, sir.”

“Who else is included?” Sunghoon asks, you quirk a brow, “Family dinner, sir. So expect your family to be there.”

You almost missed it, the way Sunghoon’s jaw clenched and the way his teeth gritted. “Cancel it, tell father I can’t come.”

“You can’t miss out sir, your father’s been noticing your absence in plenty of the family dinner arrangements.”

“I said to cancel the damn plan.”

He seethes, perhaps with more weight and force than intended. Surprised, you stumble on your own words, “Ah— Alright, I’ll contact your father and see what I can do.”

The weight of the air lingered on your part, perhaps on Sunghoon’s too. He sighs after a few seconds, twisting his head to the side. “Sorry. I just don’t want to be attending any family stuff right now.”

“I understand.”

You nod, taking a quick note to once again, earn a handful of scolding from his father. The words that should be directed to Sunghoon himself pointed towards his secretary instead. When his father harbors some scoldings for his son, it goes to you most of the time.

Still, this matter must be something that Sunghoon deemed to be untouchable. A sensitive topic on his part, so you don’t push.

For the rest of the budding morning and afternoon, Sunghoon attended to the rest of his tasks and agendas.

Until night eventually came and you prepared yourself for another set of hefty tasks from him.

Yet none came.

7:50 PM.

Ten minutes before his official dismissal, Sunghoon usually gives his tasks a minute late, so you had to keep your guard up.

But nothing came. All you see is Sunghoon coming out of his office, wearing his long coat as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of it. You observed his actions, the way he closed the door, he walked— he carried no papers at all.

“Sir, the files?” You ask him, expectant. Sunghoon looks over your direction, he thinks for a moment before he eventually spoke, “Go home early tonight. There is none.”

You blinked. Once, twice, thrice. The fingers that had flexed towards the keyboard, sharp and stretched, ready for the long hours of exhaustion. Eventually, Sunghoon noticed your absent-mindedness as his brow rose. “I said there’s none, you can go home now.”

You must definitely be hearing things. You slap your head lightly, shaking it and blinking your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. You aren’t.

Park Sunghoon— your absolute menace of a boss finally lets you out early for the first time?

What a fucking steal!

Something must be terribly wrong or disoriented with the universe right now with the way he is acting.

But you’d be a little idiotic not to harness this once in a lifetime opportunity. Thus with an enthusiastic jump from your seat, you quickly fixed your table— absolutely ready to go home and feast on one of your latest series.

Sunghoon merely watches you as you hurriedly pack up. In your defense, you had to or else something might shift his mood and might make you stay even longer. Once done, you strapped your bag in your shoulder.

Sunghoon stands a few distances away, a smug grin tugging at his face, “That excited?” He says. You nod, “I’m going home relatively early for the first time, I have to go before you change your mind.”

Sunghoon chuckles— actually chuckles. Even the heavens blessed him with such a beautiful chuckle, it was actually insane. You start to walk towards the door, so does Sunghoon. It wasn’t of much attention before, but now, the height difference between the two of you is very prominent.

His broad sculpted shoulders made little to no effort to humble your frame that was smaller than him. He could pass as a model, in all honesty. What most people fail to realize however, are the moles that fainted his face much like a signature on an official piece of paper.

The way down was unimaginably quite, the sound of the night coming in full play. The sky was already dark, still, you had to take a bus on the way home. The elevator of the ground floor opens, but before you can even fathom, much less go out, Sunghoon presses the close button and immediately hits the basement.

“Um, sir, I don’t—”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

“I’m offering you a free ride.”

He’s offering a what now?

“I can—”

“It’s already late and dangerous. Relax, I won’t kill you.”

Once the elevator opens at the basement, he steps forward and walks ahead. You merely followed, surprised by the sudden offer.

He won’t kill you but he’ll probably leave you the middle of nowehere, right?

“I’m not dropping you in the middle of nowhere.”

“Oh.”

You nod, embarrassed that he could read your thoughts. The two of you reached his car, his watchamacallit model whatever car that probably costs your whole entire organ system or existence. He opens the car door on the left, “Sir, are you sure?”

You ask one last time. “No, just rot there.”

And so you do. You stand there, albeit almost holding the car door. You swiftly let go and stay in place. What an ass.

Sunghoon starts his car, reaching over for the mirror on your side and rolling it down. “What? You’re actually gonna stand there?”

You nod. “That’s what you said.”

“What?” Sunghoon scoffs, eyeing you from inside the car. He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tilting his head ever so slightly, “Get inside, I can’t believe you took that seriously."

“Of course I will.” You mumble under your breath, opening the car door and getting inside his pristine car. The scent came wafting in, the strong particular odor tingling down your senses. The one he always used at work, the scent you’ve come to memorize every time you walked beside him. Similar to laundry detergent, soapy, airy— something so clean and fresh.

Somehow, the scent suited him.

Sunghoon puts his hand on the wheel, you weren’t very familiar with the mechanics of driving, but hell was he good at it. He looked back, placing his left hand on the handbrake.

Oh wow.

“Just tell me the directions.” Sunghoon says, oblivious to the way you gawk at the way he drives. You nod, clutching your hands together and keeping your eyes forward. On the road, on the fucking road, goddamit!

“While I’m um—” The silence was killing you. “I’m here, I’ll discuss your schedule for tomorrow.” You opened your phone, having a copy of everything in every device always had its perks.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Sunghoon begins, from your peripheral vision, you see his mouth twitch upward as he attempted to stiffle in a laugh. “What?”

“When does your working spirit turn off?”

“What do you mean?”

He spares a glance, “I mean, you’re always working. And doing— that.” He points towards your phone. With a shrug, you correct one of the typos from the schedule. “Are you not like that, sir?”

“Why would I be?”

It came off a little surprising on your part, “You look like you’d be the all work no play type of person, you know.”

“That’s rather offensive.”

Realizing what you’d just said, you quickly refute and panic. “I’m sorry, it’s not like that! It’s just—”

“No, I get what you mean.” Sunghoon cuts off with a laugh, grazing the side of his temple with his finger as his elbow came to rest on the elevation of the door. “That’s what most people assume.”

“That you’re a workaholic?”

“No, that I’m full of seriousness and that I never have fun.”

You mumble beneath your breath, “anyone would see that, just look at your face.”

“Really? What does my face look like?” At this point, Sunghoon already released a chuckle. “You always look so serious.” You blatantly say.

Anyone but him would notice that, of course. When Park Sunghoon walked, it was always so poised and controlled, aside from his actions looking so robotic on your end, his face always contorted to that of a frown or a monotonous face whenever and wherever. It was like his program consisted of two emotions only.

“And your face is always like this—” You turn to him, copying one of his signature faces from your perspective. “Or this.” came another pose.

Sunghoon smirks, twitching his head to the side. “So they say.”

“So you are aware.” you sigh, “What do you think about it?”

“About what?”

“When people talk about that.”

“Me? Well, I could say I’m flattered."

You laugh, unknowing he was capable of making such a joke. Unless, it was actually not a joke and he was geniune about it. “What about the negative side of it?”

Sunghoon ponders, keeping his mouth shut for a minute. He lazily taps the wheel with his fingers before he spoke, “I don’t necessarily mind,”

“Besides, it’s not like I’m here to be pleasing people.”

You nod, gauging in his words and his feelings. So that’s why. His world always seemed so enclosed from a vision, so isolated despite being showered with public affection by those who admired him online. He isn’t here to frolic around and make people like him. He’s just him, there’s nothing more, nothing less to it.

“You go to the left after this.” His car turns left, eventually, you reach the door of your house and you tell him to stop.

“Thank you for the ride, sir.” You tell him once his car settled down in front of your home. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you turn to Sunghoon who had an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’m going now.” But you don’t move. Sunghoon too, remains still.

Then, you open the car door and bid farewell.

But before you had a chance to close it, he spoke, “Goodnight.”

Something’s definitely shifted.

The air, the atmosphere, the place, the person, whatever it may possibly be— something’s definitely changed. The number one rule when it came to businesses like these is to allow things to remain unspoken, to let things linger in the tense air.

It wasn’t a crime to be observing such a change It was however, forbidden to mention it.

You don’t mention it but you take note of it.

The way Sunghoon doesn’t even ask for a redo of his coffee now, drinking it as it is despite the temperature being different. The way he follows his schedule more diligently with less changes. The way he— instead of leaving his paperworks with you, does it himself.

The way he’s become a little bit more gentler with words and in actions.

The way it affects you in such a way that it has you confused, terrified, and loving it at the same time.

You tell yourself it’s just a shift in his attitude.

You tell yourself that he’s just being nice.

You tell yourself that it is nothing.

Because it’s definitely nothing, right?

“I’m done.”

It was Sunghoon, opening the door from his office and entering yours. It was past 8PM, you worked a little later given the fact that there are more tasks than usual.

Or you could just be looking for an excuse.

“I’m having a bit of a hard time with this.” You say, despite not seeing Sunghoon as your desktop blocked your vision. The mouse has you frustrated, refusing to cooperate and going all over the place on your screen.

Sunghoon was already behind you, presence inching even closer.

Until his chest made slight contact with your head, his left hand balancing himself on your table, and his right one making contact with something.

The said something being your hand.

Or the mouse.

Or the mouse that had your hand placed on top of it.

He has you trapped, seemingly unfazed and unbothered as he guides your hand— or the mouse very gently. “Hmm?” He quips, “It’s working just fine, you need to be gentle with your mouse.”

And you let him. You let him drag the picture you were doing just seconds prior, you let him cage you in his arms despite him not being aware of it, you let his chest warm the back of your head ever so slightly. And once again, the smell of his clean perfume engulfed your nose and suffocated you in a way nothing else had.

Fuck.

“Thank you.” You mumble, straightening your posture in order to look large, to feel large. Sunghoon pulls away from the contact, crossing his arms. “Don’t be so harsh with your mouse.” He teases.

You huff, clicking or typing away to calm your beating heart. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“It was lagging earlier, I swear.” You try and reason out, but Sunghoon only chuckles at your response. “… Right.”

“Are you not going to go home, sir?” You shift the topic, still not facing him as you busied away. “No, not yet.”

Then you hear something shifts, like a chair being moved.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Come Monday, and every shocking news washed down again.

After spending lunch with Sunoo and some of your old officemates, you went back to your office to resume your work. What greeted you isn’t that of paperworks, but with Sunghoon’s note saying— ‘come report to my office after lunch.’

And so here you are, in front of your boss, absolutely appalled at his sudden announcement.

“I know it’s sudden but—” Sunghoon pinches the bridge of his nose. It seemed even he too, was surprised. “Father said the notice came upon late and this matter cannot be missed upon by the company.”

The said matter being an official business gathering of different companies around the world for some nepotism, trades, or connections nonsense.

The schedule is tomorrow— in France.

“I don’t know if—”

“The company will shoulder the expenses if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sunghoon quickly cuts off.

“No, I mean, a passport. I don’t have—”

”The matter can be arranged quickly.”

“But what about—”

“If this is about the stay, the business, the preparations, father has already told me it’s been dealt with.”

What about his consent?

“Are you okay with me coming?” It shouldn’t be something you are to be asking, given you are his secretary and you’re practically attached to his hip most days of the week. Still, Sunghoon was a man who kept his walls up high. At this, he simply raises a brow, “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re my secretary.”

Some odd feeling tickled your stomach, “Of course. I’ll just— I’ll prepare for what’s to come ahead tomorrow. Is there something I should be noted of?”

Sunghoon shook his head, “Not that I know of, we’ll be dealing with such stuff tomorrow.”

You nod, briefly bidding goodbye once the conversation was over and leaving his room. God forbid something normal happens once in a while in your life.

You dramatically slid down the door, hoping he wouldn’t open it so suddenly.

“What a way to go overseas…”

You don’t know what’s worse, the overbearing press breathing down your neck and following Sunghoon everywhere he goes, or the fact that you discovered for the first time you had extreme flying fears. (Not that you went on an airplane before to test it out.)

Cameras and mics kept their distance, but still, they were there and ready to tackle Sunghoon with questions. Yet, the man remained calm and composed, walking in his normal pace as you followed behind him.

It was the first time you saw him in a not so formal attire, opting to wear a v-neck sweater and dress pants paired with some loafers. People would assume he’s a model and not some extremely snobby boss who orders his secretary around.

You also dressed yourself in something casual. But, attention to outfits were not really much of your interest given that your stomach was churning and your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Literally.

You tried to keep yourself composed. Keyword— tried. It seems you were doing a pretty good job at it, given that Sunghoon still had the nerve to order you to get him some coffee.

“Same temperature, sir? And black coffee?” You stuffed down the puke, you weren’t even in the plane yet!

Sughoon shrugs as he busied on his surroundings, hoping no journalists come near him. “Black coffee, any temperature is fine.”

You nodded and scurried off in search for his coffee, and a bathroom, too.

Minutes later, in search of Sunghoon, you find him in a corner of the airport, sitting idly and tapping away at his computer. He was already working and you hadn’t even left the country yet. After getting his coffee (and ultimately puking away to your heart’s content) you neared him and handed the coffee.

“What took you so long?” He says, the disappearance having been longer than expected. You quickly cover it up, “Oh, the line was long.” Lies.

If Sunghoon notices, he doesn’t seem to pry into it any further as an announcement for the next flight was made. Quickly, the two of you headed towards your board with luggages and bags in hand. Sunghoon had a small luggage, perhaps opting to buy the things he needed there— some decisions stupidly rich people do.

Puking it away doesn’t necessarily mean you’d have the pass of not feeling the terrible sensation again. So, once you were at the seat of your ridiculuously expensive private class seat, you stayed silent, your saliva tasting saltier than usual and your head feeling slightly lighter.

At least you’ll puke in a rather private place.

The plane was cold. While you tried your best to just be sane for a few minutes. After getting to your assigned seats, your leg jitters became inevitable. This, Park Sunghoon noticed.

“Are you nervous or something?” He asks, a geniune question. You quickly deny, “No. Why would I be?” Lies.

He nods hesitantly, but you weren’t stopping! Eventually, the plane announced its departure, the flight attendant announcing some rules and regulations. With sweaty palms and a salivating mouth, you clenched yourself together and prepared for the worst.

“Here.” Sunghoon hands you something, you look over. It was a piece of menthol candy. “Eat it, if you feel sick or something.” You thanked him, taking the piece of candy and popping it into your mouth.

He tells you to close your eyes, and you do.

He tells you to open your palms, and you do.

And then, his fingers intertwined with yours.

And then, his thumb rumbs the back of your hands ever so gently.

And then you quickly shot your eyes open, almost puking out the candy he gave. “W-what— Sir—”

“My mother used to do this to me as a child when I got plane sick.” He intervenes too quickly, “Don’t get me wrong. It looked like you were about to puke on me or something.”

But he doesn’t look at you, simply looking out the window as his right hand nestled his head.

What was he thinking?

You nod, reminiscing of that moment at the office when his hands guided you.

You tell yourself its nothing, because it’s definitely nothing.

He’s your boss, and you’re his employee.

But why does his hand feel so soft? Why are his fingertips so gentle and meek?

It’s definitely nothing.

By some odd miracle the gods have graced you with, the sickness of yours has gone astray.

Perhaps it was because of the fact that you already remain aware and predicted of how an airplane actually pilots, or perhaps it was because of the fact that his hands are like— there. For a solid hour, his hand remained still on top of yours. Nervous, yes. But he was certain.

Only then does Park Sunghoon lift his hand up when the flight attendant offers some of the meals, opting to point something at the menu and putting his hand back in its respective place— his lap. You’d wish it was your hand, though.

The meal eventually arrives after the two of you order, and with but the smallest appetite and the feeling of sickness, you politely refused.

“You didn’t have breakfast.” He says, pushing the plate just a little farther on your end. You shook your head, “I was feeling a little sick.”

“You still are?” He asks, you nod. “I might end up puking the food if I force it down.” Park Sunghoon nods, taking a bit of his food. “Alright, suit—”

Grumble.

“Ah…”

“I told you to eat.” He says, not even halfway through chewing yet as his took your utensils and pried it into your hands. “You’ll definitely throw up if you don’t eat something.”

“Wow, father like much?” You quip, eventually giving in and taking the smallest bite of the food. Sunghoon scoffs, ”I don’t want you throwing up all over me.”

But hidden beneath his voice, was concern and that of amusement.

After hours of shifting, eating, sleeping, and keeping yourself company, arrival finally dawned early in the morning sun.

It was 9AM in the morning, leaving the plane had felt like a glory, and going to the airport of a different country felt much too surreal.

You are in France now.

The city of love.

With your boss.

Which, shouldn’t be a big deal, it really shouldn’t.

You were here for business, he was here to boost the status of the company.

But business can be interchangeable with many things.

“The hotel we’ll be staying at is the same venue for the gathering.”

The said hotel was at The Saint James Paris, located somewhere around Paris.

At this point, the two of you are already at the car of one of his recognized drivers around France. You sat at the back seat, he sat at the front. It felt a little bit weird to be greeted with such announcements from him, given the fact that it was technically your job when it comes to venus and such.

Still, you nod, grateful for the preparation. “What time does the event start?”

“8PM. We’ll have plenty of time to get some business done.”

You take upon his suggestions, “Perfect, there are some matters over at the company that—”

“Or, I have a better idea.” You see Sunghoon peek over at his rearview mirror, the smallest glint of of mischief tainting his eyes. “We’re going around town.”

“What? But—”

“Hmm?”

Sunghoon looks back, his gaze challenging you— daring you to say something more. But you keep your mouth shut, afraid of the consequences he’ll reply with.

“Nothing.”

“Okay, a room would more or less cost me my salary in ten year’s time.”

It came off as a joke, but you were deadly serious. This— The Saint James Paris hotel thing was no joke. It wasn’t anything, it was quite literally, and ultimately everything you’ve ever dreamed of. It was like something out of movie set— like the Palace of Versailles and that Marie Antoinette could appear any minute.

It was the epitome of grandeur and elegance, nestling away from the bustling streets of Paris, but being located in the same city regardless. It screamed French nobility, the tapestry and furnitures of the just lobby itself screaming with gold and ornaments like no other.

It looked timeless and that of aristocratic luxury. Frankly speaking, it was beautiful, and quite literally, beyond imagination.

Sunghoon laughs as you obnoxiously gaped at the opulent fabrics that wrapped around your gentle and soft bed. Over to your right, was a private terrace that overlooked the garden down below.

“This is so breathtaking…” You mumble more so to yourself, Sunghoon leans against your door as his arms were crossed. He found it amusing you find such a place to be so magical, when for him, it was like any other.

The little sparkles in your eyes made soft crinkles appear in his eyes, and a little something jitter in his stomach.

“I don’t know how I’ll repay you for this—”

“I told you, it’s the company’s.” Sunghoon intervenes. “But it’s too—”

“It’s nice, yeah?”

He enters your room, fingers tracing the gold, silky curtains that entailed the head of your bed. Sunghoon’s room was right beside yours, with the same features adorning the very place. “It’s too fancy.” You say truthfully, feeling a bit cautious now.

He shrugs, “It’s nothing compared to what you’ll see later.”

You nod eventually, and after a few more discussions as to what the gathering will entail later, Sunghoon eventually leaves the room and asks to meet you in a few minutes.

And due to exhaustion and surprise, you plopped down on the bed with a heavy sigh.

“I seriously can’t believe this…”

Experiencing such luxury had never been part of your bucket list. You used to ask for a proper meal before, now, it felt like you were getting a buffet. Might as well make the most of it.

Paris was a bit colder than you’d expect it to be.

The afternoon breeze hit you in a swift motion, light as a feather, smooth as silk. You changed your attire, opting to wear layers that matched the weather without it being too suffocating. Eventually, someone knocks at your door and you went to open it.

It was Sunghoon, greeting you with a curt nod and a raise of his brow. He too, had the same thought and outfit in a mind. Dressed in all black, and warm layers. Regardless of what he did or wore— he always looked attractive and neat it drove you insane.

“Ready to go?” He asks, “Are you sure we don’t have any paperworks left to catch up on this—”

“Not right now, no.”

You laugh, “It looks like I’m not budging, sir.”

Sunghoon pauses momentarily, biting the bottom of his lip. Then he says, “Sunghoon. It’s Sunghoon.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Sir?”

Sunghoon coughs, eyes drifting away, “You can refrain from calling me sir outside of work.”

“Oh—” You nod, surprised, “Okay, um—”

“Sunghoon. Yeah. Sunghoon, let’s go?”

His name rolling off your tongue felt so natural and unique.

God, you could get used to it.

“Roses just seem a little too typical, but it’s fitting and romantic.”

You’ve always been a little bit of a flower enthusiast. Not necessarily obsessed or knowledgeable with all of them per se, but flowers in general attracted your eyes in such a way.

Walking along the streets of Paris after being dropped off, you realize that the abundance in flowers was definitely noticeable. By some luck, there were small booths and stands selling boquets, or single flowers such as lillies, peonies, daffodils, and anything alike.

It was like a small little world of colorful rainbows that had you in total awe.

And Paris being the city of love, well— it really made things all the more suiting.

“Oh, but look—” You point towards a rose, it’s colorful, red hues in full display. But aside from its red color, it was also painted with a bit of white. It was a two-toned rose, a rather odd one. “This one’s pretty.” You mumble, gently touching its petals.

Sunghoon stood behind you, hands in his pockets. “That looks rare.” He comments.

You nod, “Probably not, but it’s the first time I’m seeing something like this.” From the corner of your eyes, you see the shop owner near your figure.

It was an old woman, with a cute flower apron hanging from her waist. Her smile reached her eyes as she speaks something in French you couldn’t quite fathom,

“Oh! Quel beau jeune couple! Vous êtes ici pour acheter des fleurs?”

“Oh! Um—” You should have taken some French lessons on the way here. But Sunghoon quickly cuts in,

“Oui, lui recommanderiez-vous quelque chose qu'elle aimerait?”

You gesture to Sunghoon with your eyes— what are you talking about?

He looks at you and asks, “What’s your favorite flower?”

You ponder over it for a moment, scanning each and every flower that lined up. Eventually, you spoke, “Lilies. I like Lilies.”

Sunghoon nods, turning her attention towards the old woman.

“Puis-je avoir un bouquet de lys, s'il vous plaît, madame?”

Immediately, you got a bit of the hint. “Hey! No, we don’t have to buy flowers, it’s okay—”

The old woman smiles, “Un bouquet de lys pour la belle femme c'est!” She then disappears off to the inside of her booth, and you turn to Sunghoon with a small grin. “You speak French?”

He shrugs, “Something you pick up in years of business.” You nod, amazed at the particular talent and capabilities of him, it was a side you never knew until now. And frankly speaking, Sunghoon speaking French was something you never you knew you needed. It came off so naturally and so smooth.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Oh, she just asked me what flower you’d like.” He says, but with the way his tone lulled off, it felt like there was something more he wasn’t telling. Still, you only nodded.

“Thank you, I’ll pay for it.”

The old woman eventually comes back, a small boquet of lilies in her arma. It was adorned with small flowers and leaves, wrapped in white and gold, contrasting its pink hues. The old woman hands the boquet to Sunghoon, giving the two of you a warm smile.

“Beau jeune couple! Des lys pour une relation prospère.” Sunghoon fished his wallet from his pocket, paying the old woman for the boquet before you even had the chance to speak.

“Merci.”

“That’s like the the only part I understand.” You chuckle, thanking the old woman with a bow. Sunghoon then hands you the flower, an unreadable expression on his face. It was then that you noticed the pink flush on his cheeks, perhaps from the reflection of the lilies or the cold, or he was blushing. It made him look cute.

Daintly, you took the boquet from his hands, “I’ll pay you—”

“It’s on me.” He quickly says. You simply stare at the fresh boquet within your fingertips, etching the memory into your mind. Then, you neared the flowers and took a waft of its scent. “It’s really lovely.“

You fight back the urge to throw the stupid grin on your face, but everything just felt so wonderful that you had to smile ever so widely. Sunghoon too, grinned at the expression your face. He liked you seeing like this, away from the stoic and strict face you always had at work (thought he was not one to talk).

Like whispers of grace, your lips coming into contact with the blooming petals. Beauty remained subtle in his eyes, but with you, it felt like every feature stood out in every way possible. It almost escaped him, the way he keeps his eyes glued to your face that was so appreciative of something so simple and small. And even if it does come of notice, he doesn’t acknowledge it or say it out loud.

Sunghoon felt like he was testing the waters, and it felt just right.

The two of you continued your walk around the city, a boquet in hand, and more sights to see in front of you. Eventually, upon walking and passing through the flower stalls, came next were the souvenirs.

Stalls of different pieces, ornaments, pieces, tapestries, figurines— each and every stall decorated with items that caught your attention and represented the city with simplicity. With Sunghoon straying a little bit behind, you neared one vintage stall, a particular item catching your interest.

It was a polaroid camera, the rare vintage kind that had its body wrapped in brown leather. It was displayed at a particular stand, so you neared it and ask the owner if it was still functioning. After confirmation, you asked for its price, and through Sunghoon’s translation, you came to know that the price was not worth bargaining or thinking over.

So you bought it after testing.

You took a particular picture of your boots first, anticipating the results of the camera. Once you’d gotten the printed film, you grinned like a child and wholeheartedly showed it so Sunghoon, “This is such a nice steal for a camera!” You argue, taking a picture of yourself afterwards despite it feeling a little bit awkward. The picture came off as a little bit funny, seeing as your eyes squinted and your angle was lower than it should be, giving that impression of a double chin.

Sunghoon chuckles at your picture, “I’ll take a picture of you.”

Sunghoon reaches for the camera, but the shop owner noticed this and offered to take a picture of the two of you instead. Reluctantly, Sunghoon hands him the camera and you settle yourself beside him. A friendly, casual photo, is what you had in mind. But when the owner shouts, “Tiens-la par l'épaule!”, you see beads of sweat droop down from Sunghoon’s forehead.

“What did she say?”

“She said to hold you by the shoulder.”

“Oh.” You nod very slowly, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks. “Go ahead.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, you nod more certainly this time, allowing his fingertips to snake upon your shoulders. He grips the blade of it with gentle care. Then, the owner shouts to smile. So you do, you smile with Sunghoon’s hands on your shoulder, you smile with your arms touching his.

And when the picture gets taken and the film gets produced in the black and white piece, a benign grin escapes from your lips. At this moment, it didn’t feel like Sunghoon was your boss. If you were to ask anyone about the person beside you at this picture, they’d undoubtedly say he was your boyfriend.

But he isn’t, he was your boss. And that’s what’s wrong about it.

You hum beneath your breath, appreciating the moment as it unfolds in front of you.

Sunghoon isn’t your boss right now. You’d think of it like that.

“It’s nice.” He compliments, eyes nodding towards the picture. Sunghoon, the man of very little compliments. “It’s so beautiful! I like the way your eyes kind of crinkle when you smile.” And you, the ever so generous compliment giver.

“You should do that more often.”

“Do what?”

“Smile. It looks pretty on you, suits you way better.”

Through the slight flushed cheeks of Park Sunghoon

Through the slight flushed cheeks of Park Sunghoon, he mumbles something. “Tch.”

Endless walking around the different stalls eventually led to the two of you becoming parched and exhausted. After a mutual agreement of going back to the hotel room after checking the time, the next unexpected destination of yours was surprisingly a small cafe as you waited for the car to drive you back to the hotel.

Sunghoon didn’t want to get coffee, had you not insisted. You wanted to pay him back for the kind gesture of the boquet. Thus, here you were, in front of the counter of a tiny but dainty coffee shop just across the lined up stalls, ensuring that the barista gets Sunghoon’s order correct.

“Yes, I’m sorry for such an odd request.” You pull off your best friendly smile, trying to coax the barista into brewing the coffee at a specific temperature. To your luck, she spoke English and was nice enough to take on your inquiry.

Sunghoon sat in one of the white chairs, after much insisting that he sat down and wait for his coffee. One of his legs were crossed over the other, his gaze was through the window outside. “What’re you thinking of?”

Sunghoon looks over your direction, pressing his lips into a thin line. “The corporate event later.”

“What about it?” He shrugs, “Father is expecting the best out of me from this. I have to do well and carry the company’s name in my back. Of course, he will no longer be here to guide me amongst these businessmen.” Sunghoon looks at the ground, “It’s odd, it makes me feel a bit terrified. Not that I acknowledge that.”

You nod slowly, feeling the burden of Sunghoon’s words creep upon you. At the rip age of fifteen, according to articles, Sunghoon had been on the path on following his father’s footsteps— to be the next successor to the Park Corporation. Now that he was 25, the pressure he felt upon his shoulders must be more than ever.

With but one of the biggest companies on his back, he represents it in front of thousands more. He carries the weight of Park Corporations and it must be heavy to bear. He hides it well.

“I want to do well, not only for him, but for the company as well. Does that make sense?”

You nod, thanking the barista once the hot coffees had reached your table. “Specific temperature, just how you like it.” Sunghoon grins at your attention to detail. You continue, “It does, it must weigh a ton.”

Sunghoon doesn’t respond to your answer.

“But you know… Sunghoon, you’ve always done well.” You sip your hot latte, its hot sensation seeping your throat, “In anything you do, it’s like, I’ve always thought of you as a robot or something.”

He almost chokes on his coffee. “Really? Why’s that?”

You laugh, “Not in a rude way. Just… You know, someone who has this specific program of being very much a workaholic.”

“You’re one to talk.” He smirks and you retaliate, “Hey! I’m a workaholic because society forced me to.” With a heavy sigh, you lean back on your comfortable chair. “If given the money and privilege, I’d probably be bathing in gold and refusing to work right about now.”

Then, you fumble with your coffee cup, feeling the matter go a bit more sensitive and harder to spit out on your end. This was a story you’ve told your friends plenty of times, the tale even coming off as a joke and a laugh of your pitying situation. But, in front of Sunghoon, you find yourself vulnerable and open. It was different, it was scary.

“That is, if given the choice. Contrary to you—” You point to him, “You’re given that choice.”

Sunghoon pretends to feign hurt, clenching his heart with a slight sigh. You chuckle, “And yet what? You choose to work and make your father, make the company proud. I think that’s like, a huge, unimaginable feat. I think… The fact that you’re here now and making a name for yourself in the realm of business where everyone is a predator its just— it’s really amazing.”

“Not really, anyone can do it.”

“Yeah, but, not everyone has the guts to step in. You could be bathing in gold right about now too.” Sunghoon geniunely laughs, the fangs of his teeth showing ever so slightly. From this angle, you glance at the way his black hair is slightly tousled, the way those fangs of his are taking a peek, and the way his nose looked sharper and more refined.

It was odd, how you found the sudden urge to kiss him.

“I guess that makes sense. It's good I didn't choose to be bathing in a gold then, yeah?”

You shook your head, “Why?”

“How would I have met you otherwise?”

You wanted to bang yourself against a wall.

Like, jump in front of a cliff or like do something stupid.

Usually, your work outfits would consts of heels, slacks, blouse, and a blazer. Note— slacks or pants.

Now, you find yourself wearing a black maxi dress, your bare shoulders exposed, the cleavage of your beeast slightly peeking out. What’s even worse is that it was fitted. Fucking fitted! It quiet literally hugged your curves and your butt.

“I look delicious though…”

You say to yourself, doing a bit of twirling around and flicking your hair in the most dramatic manner. But you still wanted to bang yourself against a wall. Sunoo was the criminal to such a situation, when you’d ask him if he knew someone who had formal dresses, he came prepared with his sister’s.

What you didn’t imagine though is that you’d look this— unimaginable in it. Now, the test to survive in such a dress begins.

“Are you ready?”

A familiar voice knocks at your door. With a final twirl and perhaps a bit of consciousness over your outfit, you open the door and—

Shit.

Of course it was Sunghoon. Who else could it possibly be? But it was Sunghoon. The person in front of you is Sunghoon, the delicate fabric of his suit tailored perfectly to his body. It was an attire you never saw him in before, usually he’d wear something black. This one, was a jet blue.

And the face, oh gosh his face. He never wears makeup but he looked absolutely glistening in this angle, or it was perhaps because of the fact that his hair was put into perfection, styled with gel in the most perfect manner ever.

God he looked handsome.

“Oh, wow.” You mumble short, quickly regaining your composure once you feel your jaw go slack. Sunghoon tilts his head, oblivious to the way you gawk, “Ready to go?” He asks.

“I am— yeah, I’ll just close the door.”

You don't know why you had to state that.

Sunghoon chuckles, "You look very pretty.”

“You don’t—” You turn around and face him, hoping he doesn’t catch hint of the slight blush on your cheeks. “Look too bad yourself.”

Sunghoon grins, “Let’s go, yeah?”

You nod. The walk to the to the hotel’s banquet hotel was filled with short conversations of aristocrats, owners, and businessmen alike. (Mostly on Sunghoon’s part.) He does most of the talking, and you are able to differentiate exactly why he was made for this world.

Concise, sharp, and straight to the point— that’s exactly how he answers. Capable of getting the receiving end to share more than what was necessary. The way he spoke was smooth as butter.

Eventually, the two of you reach the event’s place. It was a large room with decor similar to the lobby, it had plenty of cocktail tables displayed around. Tables of appetizers and wine were lined up as the room was already filled with those who belong in such a world.

It was rather lively. Easily, Sunghoon blends into the crowd with you tagging along. “Don’t stray too far, these people bite.” He warns,

“But if we’re lucky, we can make something out of this.”

“Oh? Is that Kim Corporations? We might have a shot at partnership.” You mumble beside him, Sunghoon smirks. “You already know how it works.”

“Of course," you give him a meek smile, but there was a hint of mischief behind your eyes. “I am your secretary, after all.”

The night bursted with sophistication, coupled with endless interactions with entrepreneurs and businessmen alike. The art of being in such an industry works wonders. It was not much of a question to those who have not yet stepped a foot into such a world— as to what makes something like this so crucial in each and every aspect of a company.

Building connections, establishing a name for your group— that was the main goal of such gatherings. But these people are not to be confused to be clean slated, offering kindness and partnerships in one swift go. If anything, they were quite the opposite, and rather brutal, too.

This world bites you not in the face, but in the fucking ass.

It was noticeable enough, with the way the discerning eyes of those who’ve proved they are all that, gauge at the actions who they consider either as an opponent or ally. Either way, Sunghoon was no opponent to anyone else, at least for now. And he knows this, keeping his boundaries in tact, knowing the realm of such a harsh reality. And ultimately, he prepares himself.

“If there’s something you might want to ask away…” The moment comes all too soon, a man dressed in a silky red suit approached you seconds prior, a glass of champagne in his hands. His hair was slick, eyes governing only what you could describe as interest. Deep, growing, interest.

“You can ask me. I’m open for questions, or better yet we can take it elsewhere?”

It seemed clear the business he had in mind was different. You somewhat sigh, maintaining your best to remain polite and opting to give the thick-browed man a tight-lipped smile. Sunghoon had gone for a couple of minutes to entertain other businessmen after much assurance that you can do fine on your own.

“I appreciate the concern, I think any queries I may have in mind may be taken here and absolutely not elsewhere.”

He doesn’t seem to get the hint.

“I’m Si-Woo. Soon to be heir of the Loom Corporations. I think you know very well what company I’m pertaining to, given that, you’ve earned your place here.”

Loom Corporations? Doesn’t ring a bell.

“Well, that’s besides the point miss. Because—” He takes an inch further, reaching out his arm, “Here to make quite a different impression on you.”

But before his grubby hands could even fathom reaching the surface of your skin, a sudden grasp on your waist pulls you back and against a chest of another. The perfume of his was enough of a recognition. “Si-Woo, long time no see?”

It was Sunghoon, the tone of his voice drooping down. “I didn’t know you were taking over your family’s business.”

The man pulls back, placing his hands back to himself as he eyes Sunghoon with a smile of his own. A smile that screamed— what the fuck did you do?

“Sunghoon. It’s been a while, yeah. My father handed it over to me. Is she with you?” He asks, seemingly not catching onto the hint. But Sunghoon was glad to slap it in his face, “She is, why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” The man shrugs, “You told me you hated getting a secretary before, much less, a female one.” The way the word female spews out of his tongue made rage bubble inside your stomach. It was blatant insult, and he wasn’t being discrete about it, too.

“I don’t remember telling you that. I dislike secretaries in general.” Sunghoon subtly pulls you further in his embrace, “She’s an exception. I’d appreciate it if you can get your hands off my employees.”

“I see,” The man feigns amuse, “I’ll take note of that then. See you around, Sunghoon. Be careful."

The latter part sounded like a threat, a warning that gave Sunghoon an inkling idea of this. Of the words he spews out, the dangers his confidence resided in. Sunghoon feels no threat however, with the way he tilts his head to the side and raise his brow. With the way he smiles and says, “Gladly.��

The man eventually leaves with a frown on his face, the champagne leaving a bitter taste down his throat. Sunghoon deviates his warm hands from your waist. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes, I had it under control.”

“I know.”

“Why did you step in?”

Sunghoon frowns, crossing his arms. He’s facing you now, “Was that a problem?”

“No, it’s just—”

“I was only doing my job as your boss.” Sunghoon intervenes, the tone of his voice shot straight through your chest. It had felt like he was raising his voice at you.

“Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“It feels like you’re mad.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Mr. Sunghoon.”

“Ms. Y/N.”

“Sunghoon.”

“Is that any way to talk to your boss right now?”

“What?” You rub your temple, gazing around the banquet hall. Luckily, there was no one who had interest in snooping in. “I can’t believe this.”

“What?”

“Just tell me if you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad, I’m just worried.” Sunghoon says, grazing your arm and gently making you face him. “I know that guy, we used to go to the same highschool. And he’s—” Sunghoon puts his hand on his hips, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dangerous. As much as possible I don’t want you going near him, I know how he works.”

“I know how men like him work.”

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again like a fish. Now, it had made sense. “Oh. I see.” You nodded, “I’m sorry if that’s the case I didn’t know.”

Sunghoon shook his head, “It’s alright, just—” and by some unexpected air in the wind, he subtly rubbed the small of your back.

“Just be careful, okay?'

By some odd reason, Park Sunghoon couldn’t get his eyes to pierce away from you.

If the sole reason was because of your encounter with the man earlier, it didn’t really explain why his gaze looked… Like that.

From the corner of your eyes, you see the way his gaze lingered just a tad bit longer, or the way his eyes would droop down to yours, down to the curves of your lips. And as the night shifted and the event eventually wrapped up, you find yourself in a turmoil on the way back to your room, walking alongside him. Complete, utter silence.

And once you reach the room of your door, exhaustion hitting you faintly, Sunghoon stood in front. He didn’t speak on the way back, he kept his works at a minimum at the banquet. “Thank you, you should get some rest for tomorrow, sir.”

You referred to him with the formalities, if Sunghoon noticed, he doesn’t argue. “Mmh. You should go inside.” He says, but your feet don’t move. “I really should.”

You really should.

“Yeah.”

And Sunghoon should really turn around and go to his room.

But you both don’t.

“Goodnight.”

“Say, um—"

“Hey—”

Sunghoon beat you to it, “You go first.”

You really shouldn’t be making such an offer, but you do. “I have some wine that I brought, I see you hadn’t had a drink at the banquet earlier.”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He says, crossing his arms with a smug grin; he was surprised you even noticed. “We can toast if you want? For today’s event, I mean, it’s okay if—”

“I’d want that.” Sunghoon intervenes, taking up the offer with much enthusiasm. You nod, turning around to grapple your door with sweat and clammy hands, wishing, hoping, he doesn’t hear the nervous beating of your heart. It wasn’t your own home, but you felt conscious of it. Had you left any underwear lying around? Is your bed fixed? Did you make sure to organize your stuff?

Fortunately, your room was neat and tidy. Sunghoon enters, his presence looming behind your back. It was the tension you’d felt at the latter part of the gathering just minutes back— thick and strained. You only hoped it was just you who felt that way.

Your back was turned on him as you approached the refrigerator door, reaching for the wine you’d brought along the trip. One of his favorites, on work days Sunghoon requested wine early in the mornings rather than coffee. The moment you had a chance to open the door however, Sunghoon’s long arms and hands closed them for you. Both of his arms situated at either side of you, ultimately trapping you. “I thought we would—”

Something shifts.

And a subtle weight was placed upon your right shoulder. His hair tickled the nape of your neck ever so slighty as he mumbled, “I lied…”

Confused, you utter, “What do you mean?”

“I’ve had my share of alcohol back at the banquet, I don’t want anymore.”

Oh, so that’s why his breath smelled like slight cherries.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have—”

“Can you turn around, please?” Sunghoon whispers, “Wha—"

“Please?” He now begs.

So you do, moving like an animatronic that had no mind of its own, coming face to face with Sunghoon just inches away from your face. His arms still trapped you in the door of the fridge, refusing to let go. His eyes were that of softness mixed with endless nights of no sleep.

His subtle laboured breathing and the slight flush of his cheeks was enough of a hint.

He looks at you– thoroughly looks at you with the same eyes you’ve seen him draw before.

… Fondness.

“Are you okay?” You quietly ask him, hands flaunting around in an attempt to do something. Sunghoon grins, tilting his head to the side like a lost puppy at your words. “Mmh, you’re so…” His fingers took a strand of hair, twirling it around.

“Pretty.” Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to answer. He knew he drank something, but he wasn’t drunk, neither was he tipsy. “Looking so dolled up there, y’know, I almost lost my shit.”

You were left speechless, strangled by his unexpected confession. “Almost.” He laughs, shaking his head more so as if he was talking to himself. “You’re so not making this easy for me, baby, just…” Then his fingertips trailed from your hair, to your shoulder, to the base of your chin, grasping it gently and making you look at him and not anywhere else.

He’s not making this any easy on you, either.

“Can I kiss you?”

You almost choked.

What?!?!

“Sunghoon, are you drunk—”

“No.”

“Then why—”

“I just want you, is that bad?”

No it’s not. It’s terrible. Absolutely terrible, devastating, catastrophic. How were you supposed to remind him that he’s your boss and people in such position don’t usually say things like that? Do things like trap you, hold your waist, your hair— and most of all, how were you supposed to say to him that enjoyed it, too? That you quite literally soften and cave in to his touch, making you feel like putty?

How were you supposed to tell him that every thing he’s been doing to you, albeit it being the most smallest thing ever, has you blushing and losing your mind? You’d want him just as much as he’d want you. As simple as one, two, three. But you’re just his secretary, and he’s a man of high value and respect. So no, it wouldn’t make sense, nor would it be right to do such a thing.

“But I’m your secretary, Sunghoon. It really wouldn’t be right if—”

“Do you want me too?”

“Wha— Yes, but—”

“Then it’s okay, right?”

Sunghoon insisted of his soberness, but right now his words felt drunkenly. He never spoke like this. Can you really indulge yourself in such an act?

“Sunghoon…”

The man sighs, caressing your cheek. In a split second, somehow— he regains his senses as his fingers twitch beneath. His eyes sparked, hand pulling back, “I’m sorry— fuck. Why did I ask that….”

The shame in his voice was evident, pain tainting each and every word. He creates a distance, rather, he tries to.

“No, it’s not like that, hey—”

“It’s okay it was a mistake on my part, I’m sorry, I—”

“Stop—”

Well fuck it.

You pulled his collar and smashed your lips against his. Hard, rough, passionate.

It wasn’t any kiss, it felt needing, deprived of something far greater. With no questions needed, Sunghoon kisses back with the same rhythm, pulling you— Closer. Closer. Closer.

Only then when the two of you run out breath pull out, heaving breathless gasps as your breath mingled with his. “So sweet…” Sunghoon whispers, gliding a thumb across your bottom lip. Fuck.

“Sunghoon are you sure of this, I—”

“I want you.” He says breathlessly.

All walls crumbled down. Suddenly, this very moment in the dim lights of your hotel, did you feel the need to disregard all sense of formality and professionalism you had for Sunghoon. It was driving you insane. With the way his fingers carved its presence on each and every detail of your body, the way his gaze felt needing of something, the way his lips felt so perfect and ripe against yours.

It didn’t matter now what the consequences would entail later.

Because what more could you possibly want more than this?

The soft morning dew cascaded through the soft, thin fabric of the curtains. A gentle reminder that the morning has come to greet you as the rays of the sun hit the corner of your eyes.

You winced visibly, blinking through the light that had come to disturb your peaceful sleep. The sheets were as soft as ever, plush, and encompassing against your body. Your naked body—

Fuck!

Quickly, you flung your eyes open, feeling the sensation of the cold air hitting the crevices of your breast. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You shifted slightly, trying to make sense of the situation at hand, only to feel a strong sensation on your waist, pulling you closely to something warm and hard. You weren’t going to pretend it was nothing, because it was definitely Sunghoon.

The more likely solution? You were going to pretend you were asleep.

You know what went down last night. The intense hunger and ravishing desires from the two of you, the touching, the teasing, the banters, the actual thing.

“Mmh.” A mumble can be heard from behind, tickling the base of your neck. His grip on your waist tightens, spooning you in the most oddly comfortable position ever. Sunghoon was still asleep.

Quickly trying to get the senses to stand up, you unwrap his strong arms from your waist, but he wasn’t budging!

Something shuffles, and then all of a sudden, you feel his lips come into contact with your ears, “Good morning…”

His morning voice slips through you as Sunghoon’s fingertips caressed the area just above your belly button. Unlike you, he was calm and still. “G-good morning…” You mumble, still unfamiliar with his touch on you.

This is really happening, Sunghoon clasping you in his arms and you, bare and naked.

With a soft sigh, Sunghoon’s strong arms gripped your waist and gently turned you around to face him. The sight that greeted you was heavenly with his slow blinking eyes and the light grin that adorned his features. Given that the sunlight had its trajectory over to your bedroom space, the sunlight hit his face in such a manner that it looked like he was glowing.

God, you felt your knees tremble.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, letting his hands run from your waist to your hair, gently removing the strands of hair. You nod, “I did, what about you?”

Sunghoon nods, ”I did too.”

Acting on impulse, you let your fingetips touch his cheeks, carving little moons on them, down to the mole that settled beneath his eyes. You settled in the tranquil, just the two of you, feeling the need to not say anything at all. Sunghoon hums as you explore the depths of his face, and you smile as you remember each feature of his.

It felt too good to be true.

“What time do we have to go back to Korea?” You ask all of a sudden, retracting your hands away from his face. Sunghoon felt a sense of coldness from the lost of touch as he answers, “Around lunch. We have much matters to attend to back there.”

You nod, feeling glad to be back in your own safe space. As much as Paris had felt like the biggest dreams for you, you were starting to feel a little homesick.

Something then rings from the bedstand, garnering your attention away from each other. It was Sunghoon’s phone and he answers it after you urged him to do so.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Sunghoon?”

“What is this for? Who are you?”

“Ah! I’m so glad I got through, your father gave me your number. He said you’ll be back from France in a bit, then we can discuss over some things after you’re here.”

“Who is this?”

“Don’t you remember me? I’m Kim Sohee! Gosh, I missed you! We have so much to catch up on.”

You know for a fact that some things are only temporary.

At age ten, you lost your favorite toy over to the neighbor’s son. At age fifteen, your bestfriend of years had left you to go study overseas. At age nineteen, you chose a course unrelated to what you had now, only to shift because you felt uninspired.

At age twenty-three, you felt like you were on a very tightrope.

Like there was a piece of line connecting your desire and the fear you felt from those desires. It was a thin rope, barely hanging on. Yet, you keep jumping around it regardless, always loving a bit of the challenge it gave you. But that tightrope was already there for years on end, and frankly speaking, it was about to break any moment now.

“We have to go back to Korea straight away, sir. Some things can’t be kept waiting.”

There was bitterness in your voice, a hint of pain and sadness lingering too. You refused to let your voice crack, refused to let Sunghoon see the expression in your face as you stuffed some of your clothes into your luggage.

“We don’t have to, my father said—”

“What your father said is right. It’ll be perfect for the company’s name.”

Finally, you had the guts to look at him. Just barely.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says, frustrated. He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Why’re you acting like this?”

But deep down, Sunghoon knows why.

“Like what, sir? I’m completely fine. Please, get your things packed, it’s already past lunch and the driver is waiting for us outside.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Please.” You now beg, looking at him as a whole now. You felt the tears trickle down your face. “Just go.”

“Listen to me, Y/N. I didn’t want this to happen, okay! I tried talking to father about it, and—”

“So you knew for weeks that you were getting married?” You scoff, “and you refuse to tell me and chose to do this instead?”

Sunghoon’s eyes shifts, he swallows the dryness in his throat. “I didn’t know father would take it seriously. Listen, I refused the absurd idea when he told me before and he seemed okay with it.”

You shook your head, “He wasn’t okay with it. You thought he was, but you know how this industry works, Sunghoon.”

The weight of your words felt heavy on Sunghoon’s shoulder, he couldn’t utter a single word, only watching as you haphazardly fix your things, your luggage, your clothes— everything. Like you were showing him that traces of you were never meant to be here in the first place.

And for the worst part? Sunghoon knows you’re right. He knows something like this— whatever you had going on, would never slip by in such a world where power was everything and you had none of that. At least, neither in money nor in status.

You were just his secretary.

And he was someone so high up that it hurts.

Sunghoon knows he couldn’t do anything about it either, because the marriage was in two days time. Unbeknownst to him, his father has already organized and planned out everything behind his back.

Unbeknownst to him, he was getting married for the sake of family business all against his own will.

And you knew, too that Sunghoon is just your boss, nothing more, nothing less. Someone deserving of respect and none of this. Your awful, tainted desire of wanting him. The hesitant gazes and touches, none of the office romance you’d always read and watched in movies.

Sunghoon just stood there, unresponsive. He stood with a frustrated gaze and a heavy heart as he watched you pack. “Just leave, sir. Please.” You beg for the last time.

And Sunghoon listens.

He leaves.

The ride on the way back to Korea felt exhausting to say the least.

It was silent yes, with the way neither of you spoke a word and let the silence hung in the air. But it was an uncomfortable silence, the kind that was dreadful and undesirable.

Sunghoon did not bother to speak at all, neither did he try and resolve the problem. And although it stung, it had to be for the best.

After all, are there any more solutions left?

It had been some time in the afternoon when you arrived back to Korea, opting to go to the company first to attend to some business at hand regarding Sunghoon. The said business being his marriage preparations. Ironically enough, you were in charge for the preparations and the designing of the venue itself.

His father was there, his sister, his mother, the woman she was to marry— Kim Sohee, and her relatives involved in the matter.

It was a proposal of marriage, all for the game of business and wealth. But Sunghoon knows Sohee, and she knows him too. They’ve been close enough since they were little, after all.

Sohee’s eyes, though, are different towards him.

The woman felt and looked like one of stature, keeping her head up high and her words crisp and straightforward. She kept her guard and her image well put, yet she had that strange look towards Sunghoon whenever he gazed over in her direction, must be love or something like that.

As for Sunghoon? You couldn’t bother— couldn’t bear to see what his expression would hold.

The meeting ends on a peaceful note, with Sunghoon going along with what was planned for him and you, trying to keep everything professional all in the name of your job. But every minute you hear the word marriage, it had felt like torture on your end.

“The honeymoon must be held in Italy! It’s surely such a beautiful place.” The mother of Sohee spoke, she was a bit of a nagger, too enthusiastic for this entire ordeal. Park Sungwoo, Sunghoon’s father, chimed in, “No, no. I was thinking of France. You know? The city of love, it is very worthwhile to spend their moments there as a newly-wed couple.”

You physically feel your eyes roll. How fucking ironic.

“Secretary Y/N? I entrust the matters of the preparation to you.” Sungwoo says, nodding with enthusiasm. He knows of your capabilities as Sunghoon’s secretary, but he doesn’t know what you’ve done with Sunghoon. He’d be sad if he ever hears about it, honestly. You nod, attempting to feign innocence and professionalism. “Yes, leave it up to me, sir.”

You feel a pair of eyes slice you in half but you ignore it regardless. It didn’t matter now, at least, not anymore.

The two days of rushing the preparations back and forth proved to be much troublesome than expected.

Weddings take months, if not, years to prepare. Doing it in a day was torture, absolute fucking hell. From venue, to designs, food and other paraphernalias, sleeping had barely been an option anymore.

Spending late nights over at the office had once again, become inevitable. During office hours, you raked through paperworks. The hours following it, consisted solely of wedding planning.

Each task felt heavy and long when it came to the latter part. Time passes by so swiftly whenever you worked on paperworks. But for this? It’s like time wasn’t moving at all. Like right now, a particular moment late at night. Twelve hours before the ceremony, you were busy working your ass off for the guest list. Much aid had already been handed out to you from your previous department.

You were a perfectionist at heart. Refusing to let your feelings get the best of you, and ensuring that each and every aspect of the ceremony was spot on.

“Yes, yes. 9AM tomorrow if it’s possible, I’ll send the venue over.”

The clicking of your keyboard reverberated throughout the room, you squeezed your phone in between your ear and shoulder.

Part of you hoped Sunghoon would swing by and perhaps stay a bit longer like he’d used to.

But he didn’t do so yesterday, so it was highly unlikely he’d do it right now.

Yet you hoped, you wished for him to stay a little longer despite all the pushing away.

“Thank you, I’ll give the complete details tomorrow.” You end the call on your end, feeling a bit of the weight sliver away from your shoulder. It was 1AM now, office hours had long been gone and it was just you inside the office and the dim lights from your table.

You stretched your arms over your head, yawning as you did so.

A soft thud can be heard and suddenly, a small bottle of coffee and a sandwich was placed in front of you; the kind of coffee that’ll have you awake for hours and the kind of sandwich that’ll have you full for a while. Surprised, you looked behind your back only to see him. Arms crossed, leaning in one of the spare tables.

Park Sunghoon.

“Sir, what’re you doing here?”

He nods towards the coffee and sandwich, “Go eat. You haven’t eaten.”

“I’m fine.” You nudge the food away.

“Still so subborn? I said just eat.” Quickly taking it upon himself, Sunghoon unwraps the sandwich and he prods it towards your lips. Your eyes scan over his features, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. He probably came home first, then came back here to give you this.

You don’t open your mouth, mainting politeness and pushing his hands away. Still so soft and gentle. “I’m not hungry, sir. I’m fine.”

But as if he was some sort of fortune teller, he holds your chin and opens your mouth to push the sandwich in. The moment you took a bite, your stomach grumbled and Sunghoon visibly smirked. Embarrassed, you chew on the sandwich with a slight frown, taking the food from his hand.

“See? I told you.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s past office hours, what are you still doing here?”

“Why? Can’t I be here at my own company?” He says, clearly amused.

“No, it’s just that, you know, you should be sleeping and preparding for the big day and all that.” You had to give yourself a pat on the back for letting that slip out so smoothly.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond for a couple of seconds, contemplating whether or not to tell you. That he tried to go to bed early, convincing himself that everything was for the best. That all it ever led to was him waking up in the middle of the night, only to imagine you laying in his sheets, body wrapped with his.

That all he ever thought of the duration of his so called wedding preparations was you and you alone.

That he told his father about this whole thing and it had led them to fight and end up in an intense disagreement, only for his father to be ever so stubborn but understanding at the same time.

That his father understood where he was coming from but still decided to push the marriage regardless because it’ll solely benefit the company.

That at the same time, his father and Sunghoon had come on a mutual agreement on marrying Kim Sohee in name only and parting ways after because the woman too, had someone for her own.

That in the end, all you ever thought of were the negative outcomes, thinking it was beneficial for the two of you, not knowing there was a solution.

So Sunghoon doesn’t speak, choosing not to overwhelm you. Instead, he watches as you take small bites of the sandwich and small sips of the coffee.

“Is it good?” He asks, clearly not having to with the way you inhaled the food. You nod, “Thanks, I hadn’t had lunch yet.”

“I know.” Sunghoon still looms over you, his fingertips coming contact with the side of your lips as he sweeped off a piece of the food you ate. You were given not the chance to respond as the moment came all too quick.

“You’ve been overworking.” He mumbles, crossing his arms once more as he observed the way you fumble with the things you needed to prepare. You nod, “I have to make sure your wedding is perfect. I can’t let it fail.”

“Why do you care so much?”

His sudden question caught you off guard, a heavy weight bears on the air as he awaits for a response. Barely looking at him and focusing on typing instead, you heave out a sigh.

Because not caring will make your growing feelings have the chance to prosper.

Because not caring will truly reveal your desires of wanting him, needing him.

And you don’t want that.

“What do you mean? I’m your secretary, sir. It’s only my job to care.”

“Really?”

But Sunghoon knows deep down that wasn’t the case. “Y/N.” You don’t respond. Sunghoon repeats his words with more force, “Y/N, can you look at me?”

You look at him, hoping the vulnerability in your eyes don’t show. “Do you think that time at Paris, the things we did were all a mistake?”

You were quick to answer, “No. I would never think like that. Would you?”

The response that came next came was a surprise.

“I didn’t lie when I said I want you. And I still do.”

“You just want the idea of me sir. When I can’t give anything anymore, things will be useless in the end.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Then tell me what is.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? So it’s really true then?”

“I can’t tell you right now.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Cause—”

“Why, Sunghoon? Because if you’re telling me you can’t tell me because of your feelings, then what about mine? Have you ever thought about mine?”

“Cause it’s all I fucking think of Y/N— Your feelings, my feelings. Us. This. Shit.”

A heavy silence hung in the air once more.

You couldn’t speak. It didn’t help that Sunghoon was there, waiting for a reaction, waiting for something, anything. And when he realize you wouldn’t, he sighs and rakes his hair with his hand, “Do you fucking trust me?”

“It’s hard.”

“Will you try?“ Sunghoon offers a hand, hesitant and doubtful, you take it. “Please?”

And for once, he pulls you to his chest.

He kisses you.

“Please? Just trust me this once?”

It didn’t take long before the ceremony was over and everything was closing its doors.

It’s all a marriage of convenience, Sunghoon reassures you.

Months past, and even through the honeymoon trip set up by their families, Sunghoon reassures you. Through the places they go to, the sites they saw and admired, Sunghoon reassures you that everything he shared, he treasured most with you.

He returns from his trip, greeting you with a boquet of pink lillies in the office door. He’d brought it on the way to his office, countless gasps and stares came his way, assuming it was for Kim Sohee.

But it wasn’t.

It was for you and you only.

Kim Sohee respects this fact, there was no need to argue over such things given that she too, had something of her own. Assumptions were made on your part and you internally had to apologize for being so quick to judge. It was all a mutual agreement, that upon public name, the two were married. But in private, the two had romantic matters of their own.

On your end, it was better that way.

There was no prying nor discrimination with your relationship with Sunghoon, no snoopful ears to disrupt anything you had with him, no jealousy nor bashful comments towards your way.

It was a particular moment months after everything had begun between the two of you, behind closed doors, or particularly, inside Sunghoon’s office— you frequented the place more than usual. You have lunch there, you spend a little more time there during moments where you had nothing to do, you spent late nights working at his office rather than your usual table.

Sunghoon loved the company you gave him. Often times, stirring off work and observing everything you do instead, or getting a bit too nosy and sticking his nose in your tasks.

Like right now.

“Sunghoon, I promise this’ll be the last part. Can you let go for a bit?”

Sunghoon sat beside you, right hand behind your back as the other entertained itself by aimlessly roaming around your thigh. His head nuzzled itself on your shoulder, nose inhaling your scent. H

Contrary to others’ beliefs and assumption, Sunghoon was clingy and stuck like glue whenever no one else was looking over your way. He acted like he wasn’t your boss. He had this habit of touching you discretely, and you bet on hell that he must be some koala during his past life.

Because when he wasn’t touching you or grazing his hand over you, he was staring at you instead.

“I can’t, you’ve been working for hours on that thing. How long will will that end?”

He mumbles, peppering soft kisses down your neck and down to your shoulders.

“In a bit.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

“Really? Did I?”

“You did, can you stop working now?” Sunghoon’s voice sounded like a bit of a whine on your part. You liked him better this way, so attached to you like a little kid, so devoid of his snarky responses and mean comments. Different from the Sunghoon you’ve come to know him from.

Choosing to finally follow his constant whining, you closed your laptop and faced the man who had a slight pout etched upon his features. “Are you always this clingy?” You quip, allowing Sunghoon’s arms to wrap around your waist. You held his face in your hands.

“I’m not, don’t tell anyone.”

“What if I do?” You tease him. Sunghoon tickled the spot just below your chest. “You won’t.”

You laugh uncontrollably as Sunghoon tickled you in places he knew you were ticklish in. A soft grin escapes his features as your laughter continues to bubble from his constant tickling. “Sunghoon— stop!” You laugh.

He grins, making you think he had stopped by pulling his hands away momentarily, only to attach itself back to you.

The ruckus eventually dies down though, and Sunghoon retracted his hands back and settle them on the curves of your waist. The large grin that adorned his features was inevitable, it felt like he had stars in his eyes.

“You done teasing me now?” He says, you laugh. “I wasn’t teasing you! Only stating facts.”

“Oh, but you were.”

“Wasn’t.”

“Were.”

“Wasn’t.”

“Were.”

“Wasn’t—”

Soft, plump lips crashed itself upon yours. He shuts you up with a kiss, the impact causing you to stumble ever so slightly.

He really just knows the effect he has on you.

Sunghoon pulls back, connecting his forehead with yours.

“Can you say that again?”

You pout, defeated by his tactics of getting through your heart. He knows the right tactics, the right time and place to make your heart jump out of your chest.

“Whatever, have some little respect to ypur secretary.”

And you? Well, let’s just say you had the secretary weapon to use on him.

Sunghoon chuckles, caressing your supple cheeks with a large smile.

“You’re so cute, baby.”

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ END *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

EXTRAS!

“I think a touch of pink would go best with your skirt.”

“No, peach would definitely be better.”

“Baby, what’s the difference, exactly?”

Piles of fabric lay within your fingertips, a pastel color for each their own. Blue, green, pink— aha!

“See? Peach looks much lighter, while pink is just, well, pink.”

“Very detailed description.”

Sunghoon turns to the small little figure, staring at the two of you with clueless eyes. She tilts her head as her eyes feigned curiosity as to what the two of you were arguing about.

Cuteness agression much?

“Jimin, which one would you like best for your skirt? The peach or the pink one?” You hold two pieces of fabric in fronf of you, expectant that she’ll choose yours, because you refuse to lose to Park Sunghoon.

“Purple, I want purple, mommy.”

Oh.

Sunghoon laughs exasperatedly, clutching his stomach as he pointed at you, “See! I told you our choices wouldn’t matter!” He quips. You frown, “This isn’t funny.”

“So purple it is? Are you sure?” You talked to the child— your child in a high pitched voice while Sunghoon gets one of irritation. Jimin nods, “I don’t like pink, or kroral.”

You smile, thinking of exactly the same thing as your husband: so fucking cute!

Suddenly, soft wails and cries could be heard from your shared bedroom. It was your son, Park Junsoo, awake from his usual nap. You and Sunghoon looked at each other, before eventually, he’s the one that loses the staring battle and he goes to the bedroom to pick your son up.

He comes back with a wailing little baby in his arms, gently cooing until he calms down.

“This little guy’s such a crybaby…” Sunghoon mumbles, rocking the baby in his arms, side to side, back and forth. The little stars that adorned his eyes were evident as he looked at his son with much love and adoration.

Park Jimin, your daughter who is seven years old, had facial features similar to you, but her personality came from Sunghoon. Calm, collected, and composed. While Park Junsoo had gotten his face from his father, but from the way he whined and clinged, you could tell this child was going to become a bit of a nagger, much like you.

“I wonder where he got it from.” Sunghoon teases, looking over your direction.

“Oh shut up.” You roll your eyes at him.

This was your little family now.

A home filled with so much love and gentleness you wouldn’t have things any other way.

And truth be told, this was the thing you love most about Park Sunghoon. Always so patient, so kind and gentle— the epitome of the perfect everything.

Before, you always used to think he was some sort of spoiled brat who wanted everything to go his way.

But now, he is the father of your two children, sacrificing most of his time and effort despite coming home from work exhausted and tired. Just to see you smile, just to see your family smile.

Life is beautiful on your part, so, so, beautiful.

For years on end, you no longer survived on cup noodles or anything instant, constantly living in life of luxury as Sunghoon spoils your family to death after inheriting the family business.

Park Sunghoon knows the way to your heart, to everything about you, down from the tips of your toes to your whole entire soul.

“Finally got them to go to bed, god.”

It was past midnight now, Jimin had finally run out of energy to stop jumping around bend and close her eyes. While Junsoo had stopped his little fits of crying and dozed off. It was exhausting, taking care of two kids at the same time.

Most days, when Sunghoon was at work (you had to stop momentarily to take care of your younger), the routine was ten times harder. Constantly in a back and forth motion to tend to your childrens’ wants and needs— it was an endless battle in an entire day.

But when Sunghoon was with you during the weekends, taking care of your children became much more bearable and somewhat enjoyable. Partly because the task was split and partly because you got to spend time with your husband.

“I think we need to go to sleep now. I’m tired from all that.” Sunghoon agrees, tiredness also evident in his features. The two of you proceeded to your nightly routine in silence, battery recharging bit by bit.

Then, you settled down in your shared bed with his arms wrapped around yours.

It was cold, but the warmth of the blankets and his body heat gave you a sense of comfort and reassurance, the kind that had your eyes blinking in utter drowsiness. “So warm…” You mumble in his embrace as Sunghoon traced circular patterns around your back.

He lifted your pajama shirt just slightly, allowing him to grasp the exposed part. “Thank you, baby.” He whispers, kissing your forehead ever so gently. “Mmh? For what?”

“For this. I’m grateful for you and this beautiful family we’ve built.”

You smiled, “Are you happy to have me?”

Sunghoon nuzzled his head in your neck, inhaling the fresh soap you’d showered with. Then, he peppered soft kisses to your shoulder, down to your collarbone. “More than. I love you so much.”

“Sunghoon, just wondering…”

Sunghoon hums, you feel the drowsiness start to make its way to his features. “Those days at the office, you know, when you were being mean and an ass and all that.”

Sunghoon chuckles, nuzzling his head in your neck as you tease, “Why’d you suddenly become all nice and offer a ride home?”

“I’m not a complete ass you know.”

“Well, you were.”

“I was but—” He chuckles, pulling away from your embrace slightly and pecking your forehead, your nose, your lips. “Yeji kind of beat me to reality with treating you properly.”

Surprised, you ask, “Yeji? She did that?”

Sunghoon nods, “She said she saw how you looked when you left the company and it made her feel bad.”

“How do I look then?”

“Tired. Anxious. You know, stressed from dealing with my stuff.”

“Ugly?”

“Mmmmm, never ugly baby.” Sunghoon’s lips ghosted above yours, and it didn’t take long before he kissed you with such love. The kiss was slow, careful, and filled with sleepiness that you chuckled in the midst of it.

“Always pretty.” He mumbles. You grin, “Always pretty?”

Without any more words said, Park Sunghoon nodded and soon dozed off to sleep with a large grin adorning his features. He relaxed against your touch and your touch alone, no longer was he the Park Sunghoon that had the entire weight of the world on his shoulders.

You shared that weight with him.

So you kissed the top of his head, ruffling his soft hair within your fingertips.

“I love you too.”

#enhypen #enhypen fanfics #fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen ot7 #kpop #enhypen fics #park sunghoon #Park Sunghoon x reader #Sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fanfiction #park sunghoon enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #fanfic

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thedensworld · 20 days ago

Text

No Safe Place | C.Hs

Pairing: Hitman Vernon x reader

Genre: Action, Romance, Suggestive (mdni!)

Word Count: 18k

Preview: He was meant to kill for her, but he didn't expect to fall in love

Amazing gif from @chwedout 🤍🌼🤍🌼

Hansol glanced at the new message notification on his phone—an unknown number. Just two words, "hi". Followed by another, "I need your help."

They weren’t the first. He lost count of how many people had texted, called, or even left anonymous notes with the same desperate plea. Help me.

He wasn't a saint. Far from it. Not really a sinner either—though some might argue otherwise. Honestly, who gets to decide? But one thing was certain: he had helped some people. In his own way.

He grew up in a foster home after his parents died in a car crash when he was six.

It was supposed to be a trip to the beach before starting elementary school. He remembered the smell of sea salt and the soft sound of waves—before everything went black.

Instead of a classroom, he entered a new life in a cramped government house. The foster home wasn’t all bad. He shared it with one other kid, which made things bearable—almost fun sometimes. Minus Mrs. Park, the caretaker. God, she was horrible. He didn’t even want to start unpacking that.

Now, he's a hitman. People pay him to kill. Ironic, right? Some people study ten years behind a desk to keep a heart beating. He was trained to stop it in seconds.

At 12, a man adopted him. Just like that—papers signed, suitcase packed.

Mr. Ki. He never smiled, never yelled. Just barked orders like a military ghost. Hansol never understood why he had to run kilometers every morning, or why his squats and jumping jacks had to be counted out loud. Reflex training. Silence drills. Night vision tests.

Then, one day, Mr. Ki handed him a gun. No words. Just a deer in the woods. His first kill.

Cold eyes. Steady hands.

“You are Vernon now,” the man said.

That was the day Hansol died. And Vernon was born.

Now, he tossed his Nietzsche onto the nightstand and walked toward the computer, phone still in hand. He typed back, "Tell me."

Almost instantly, the reply came. "I'm Jung Y/n. I want you to kill my husband. His name is Lee Seokmin. He works at Shinjeon & Baek Law Group."

He arched a brow. Efficient. His fingers flew across the keyboard. Lee Seokmin.

Dozens of links. Headlines. Smiling photos. Press statements. Typical corporate face. White-collared. Polished. He clicked one photo—Seokmin, arm wrapped around a woman. Her hand rested on his chest. Wedding bands caught the light.

That must be her. Jung Y/n. Out of habit, Vernon clicked her profile next. Her account wasn’t private.

Bio: Kindergarten Teacher. Devoted Wife. Philosophy Lover.

That last part made him pause. A crooked smile tugged at his mouth. A woman who quotes Plato but hires a killer in secret?

Interesting.

He leaned back in his chair, still staring at her photo. “Let’s see what kind of truth you believe in, Jung Y/n.”

The café was nearly empty, just the way Hansol preferred it.

Muted jazz played low in the background, blending with the soft clink of porcelain and the occasional murmur of baristas. Rain tapped gently against the windows—persistent, but polite.

He sat in the farthest corner, back to the wall, hood pulled low. His fingers curled loosely around a cup of black coffee—untouched, cooling. He didn’t drink when he worked. And this? This counted as work.

The door creaked open. He looked up.

You stepped in, brushing raindrops from the sleeves of her coat. Hair still damp, cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes scanning the room until they landed on him. You looked… ordinary.

Hansol didn’t wave. He didn’t need to.

He just sat there, a shadow in the farthest corner of the quiet café, the scent of dark roast and rain-soaked pavement wrapping around him like smoke.

Then you walked in.

The soft chime of the door followed you, along with the sharp scent of petrichor clinging to your coat. Your eyes scanned the room, then lit up when they landed on him—

A smile bloomed. Warm. Natural. Disarming.

And it took him aback.

Because you were smiling at a man you believed would soon kill your husband.

“Hey, nice to meet you. You must be Vernon.”

You said it with the polished tone of someone used to customer service counters and PTA meetings—cheerful, bright, oddly soothing. The same kind of tone the woman near his apartment used to sell massage chairs every weekend.

“Yes,” he said simply. He took your handshake—cool fingers, light grip, steady. “That would be me. And you’re Jung Y/n?”

You nodded, setting your coat over the chair before sitting across from him. A few rain droplets clung to your hair, glittering like tears under the café lights.

“I was a little nervous before coming, so… I brought you this.”

You pulled out a box and nudged it toward him.

“If you don’t mind.”

Mini donuts.

Neatly arranged. Some glazed, some dusted with sugar, one with pink sprinkles that didn’t quite match the mood.

Hansol blinked at the box.

In ten years of this life, he’d received death notes, bloody wallets, burner phones—never pastries.

He didn’t reach for one. He just stared at them for a second longer than he meant to.

Strawberry sprinkles. Jesus.

He remembered liking them. Once. Long ago. When someone packed him lunch before first grade. Before things turned cold.

His eyes lifted to yours.

And he watched.

Straight-cut hair, still damp. Your features were quiet, balanced, unremarkable—but somehow the softness in your expression caught him off guard.

You smiled like you didn’t know where you were. Like you didn’t care.

“I forgot my umbrella at school,” you said lightly, brushing hair behind your ear. “Sudden rain, of course.”

“How are you, by the way?” you asked next, like you weren’t sitting across from a killer-for-hire.

Your eyes were curious. Not cautious. That, too, surprised him.

Hansol nodded slowly. “Good. Very good. Like every day.”

You mirrored him. Smile intact. “You… you look normal,” you said without hesitation.

That stopped him. Hard.

Normal.

No one had ever called him that. Not in any tone that wasn’t sarcastic or suspicious.

Hansol cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his chair.

“So,” he said, his voice returning to neutral, “what do you do for a living, Mrs. Jung?”

You waved your hand, almost shy. “Please. Just call me Y/n. Be casual with me.”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher. St. Louisville Kindergarten. Ring a bell?”

He nodded. “Yeah… Heard about it. Kind of far from here, isn’t it?”

“Yes! That’s why I’m drenched.” You glanced down at your clothes—water-darkened at the sleeves, a few strands of wet hair clinging to your cheek. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, that’s fine,” he said, watching closely. “But are you fine?”

There was a flicker of concern in his voice.

You shook your head quickly. “I’m heading home anyway. I just didn’t want to miss this.”

Hansol nodded. Still quiet. Still measuring.

Then you tilted your head slightly. “So… what about you, Vernon? What do you do?”

He raised his brows, caught off guard. That wasn’t a line people usually crossed with him.

A beat passed.

Then your eyes widened as you groaned under your breath.

“Ah—I’m sorry, I tend to forget things when I’m nervous. That’s… ridiculous.”

Hansol inhaled slowly. He had to bring this back to what mattered. “So, Y/n. Y/n, right?”

You smiled again. “Right.”

“Listen.” His tone lowered, firm now. “I don’t do business without reason. My rules are clear. I kill bad people. That’s it. Sinners only. I don’t touch the innocent.”

His gaze locked onto yours. There was nothing playful left.

“So if you want me to kill your husband…” He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table, voice like steel behind velvet.

“You need to tell me. What’s his sin?” Hansol noticed it immediately—the way the color drained from your face the moment he mentioned your husband.

It was subtle. The way your shoulders tensed, your fingers curled slightly in your lap, your eyes losing that soft shine. He’d seen it before. Too many times. That quiet shift before a story that hurts.

You took a deep breath, voice quieter now, careful. “I’ve been married to Lee Seokmin for five years.”

Your thumb brushed the rim of your coffee cup. “He was a good man. Really. Funny, dependable, affectionate when he wanted to be.”

Hansol didn’t blink. He listened.

“But… things changed. Slowly. At first, it was just the way he talked—he got mean when he was angry, started throwing things when we fought. But it escalated. Last year, he started getting physical.”

Hansol’s brows pulled together slightly. “Why?”

That made you pause. You blinked, lips parting.

“I just wanted to have a child,” you said, almost like a confession. “That’s all I asked. A baby. A family. But he was… afraid. Said I was trying to trap him. Said he wasn’t ready.”

You looked away, jaw tightening.

“The more I brought it up, the more he pulled away. And then one night…”

Your voice trembled slightly as you reached into your coat pocket and pulled something out—a small mirror. You angled it under your chin and slowly lifted your scarf.

Hansol’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in.

There it was. A healing cut, faint but unmistakable, just under the curve of your jaw.

A blade. Close. Intentional.

“He threatened to kill me,” you said softly. “That night, I knew it wasn’t just words anymore.”

Hansol sat back. A deep silence stretched between you.

You stared at your hands. “I just wanted a happy family. That’s it. A house with a kid, maybe two. Someone to come home to. Laugh at stupid movies with. Fight about groceries and then make up the next day. I didn’t ask for too much, did I?”

Happy family.

The words echoed.

Hansol looked down briefly, his fingers tapping against the table, almost like they remembered something his mind didn’t want to.

Then he looked back up. “Have you ever considered divorcing him?”

You let out a breath that sounded too close to a laugh.

“I did. Twice. But every time I packed my things, he’d cry. Apologize. He’d tell me he’d change, say he’d go to therapy. He even bought baby clothes once. Told me we could try.”

Hansol tilted his head, unreadable.

“And did he?”

Your silence was answer enough.

“No,” you whispered. “He just got better at hiding the threats. At gaslighting me. At making me question my own memories. And I… I got tired.”

Your voice cracked then. Just slightly. Just enough to make Hansol lean back, look at you differently.

He’d seen people cry before. Seen them beg, scream, curse. But this— This quiet surrender in your voice. This was different.

And for the first time, Hansol took a sip of his coffee.

The amber glow of the bedside lamp stretched over the pages of the book resting in Hansol’s hand, it cracked open to a passage he’d read too many times to count. His eyes moved slowly over the line, Schopenhauer’s quote lingering at the edge of his mind:

“A man can do what he wills, but he cannot will what he wills.”

He paused. The sentence seemed to hum beneath his skin, more familiar than he wanted to admit. He leaned back against the headboard, the leather spine creasing beneath his thumb, and let the words take him somewhere else.

A week ago.

A rainy afternoon.

And you.

His memory slipped easily into that quiet café, where the sound of soft jazz tangled with the patter of rain against the window. You had sat across from him, your damp sleeves clinging to your arms, fingers wrapped around a lukewarm mug of tea. The donuts sat untouched between you, half-glazed offerings between strangers.

Your voice had trembled only slightly when you told him about your husband. Married for five years. A good man, once. Then cruel in slow, almost invisible degrees. Throwing things. Silence as punishment. One night, the blade. The thin scar you showed him was still pink beneath your neck.

And Hansol had said, his voice quiet but unyielding,

“You should punish him, not kill him.”

You had looked up, startled. Your eyes widened—not with fear, but disbelief. Hope, maybe, or the lack of it.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the table. “Men can’t run from who they are,” he said. “They’ll never change.”

His fingers tapped once against the rim of his cup. “Killing him won’t give you anything. Not peace. Not justice. Not freedom. And it won’t give his family anything either—just another grave they’ll never understand.”

You didn’t answer immediately. You simply blinked slowly, and your lips parted as if you wanted to say something but didn’t trust the words to come out right.

Back in the present, Hansol closed the book gently and placed it on his nightstand. The silence in the room felt heavier now, like the echo of a decision that hadn’t yet been made. He rubbed the back of his neck, then glanced at his phone, the screen still dark. No new messages. No name at the top of the list.

Only yours—still saved as Jung Y/n.

Hansol remembered how the conversation ended that day—unexpectedly gentle for a man like him.

You sat with your fingers tangled together in your lap, eyes fixed on the corner of the table like the grain of the wood might reveal a hidden answer. The scar you’d shown him still hovered in his memory like a question mark. But it wasn’t the wound that haunted him—it was the way your voice trembled after. Not with rage. Not with vengeance. With fear. With exhaustion.

You were scared.

And Hansol, for once, didn’t feel like a weapon. He felt like a man sitting across from someone trying not to drown.

“Think about it,” he’d said after a pause, sliding the untouched box of donuts toward you. “You don’t want to do this. Not really.”

You looked up at him, surprised, as if his words cracked through some wall you hadn’t realized you’d built.

“I don’t usually offer that,” Hansol added, leaning back into his chair. “Options. Most people come to me with answers, not fear.”

Your lips parted. You wanted to argue—he could see it in your eyes. But instead, you nodded. Slow. Grateful. A little broken.

He let you go. Told you to take your time. Think it through.

That had never happened before. He never gave people time. They either meant it, or they didn’t.

But something about you made him certain—you didn’t. You weren’t a killer. You were just cornered, and no one had ever handed you a way out that didn’t end in blood.

Back in his apartment now, Hansol stared at the ceiling, the quiet pressing down like a weight. He rolled onto his side, phone still silent, screen dim.

He should’ve heard something by now. A text. A thank-you. Even a final word, saying you’d changed your mind. Maybe you’d filed for divorce. Maybe you were healing.

He almost smiled.

For once, he hoped he’d done something good.

He hoped, in this twisted life of contracts and kill orders, he’d managed to give someone a different ending.

And for the first time in a long time, Hansol told himself he should try to believe in that.

He shut his eyes, and let that quiet hope keep him warm. A frustration sighed out, he started to think he'll make a good therapist

Hansol didn’t believe in coincidences. But when he reached for a jar of jelly—blueberry, the good one—only for his hand to brush against someone else’s, he paused.

And blinked.

You.

You, with your hair tied up messily and a basket half full with tofu, milk, and instant coffee. You, wearing a soft blue sweater and looking at him with the same wide-eyed surprise he must’ve mirrored.

“…You shop here too?” you asked, sounding more breathless than the question warranted.

Hansol glanced at his own basket—just two items. Packed kimchi and jelly. It almost felt embarrassing. “Only for essentials,” he replied, raising a brow. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I just moved in with my sister. She lives a block away.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You moved?”

“Yeah,” you said, shifting your weight to one foot. “I filed for divorce this morning.”

That made him straighten a little. “You did?”

You nodded, and for the first time, he saw something new on your face—relief. Not full, not yet. But it was a start.

“I needed to. I mean… you were right.” Your voice softened as you looked down at the neatly stacked rows of jelly. “Killing him wouldn’t have made me feel safe. It would’ve made me something I’m not.”

Hansol exhaled slowly through his nose. The faintest curve touched his lips. “I see…” He placed the jelly in his basket and leaned a little closer. “Is that a sign I’ll be seeing you a lot around this area?”

You looked up, surprised again—he kept catching you like that.

“Depends,” you said slowly, teasingly. “If you keep your grocery list this short, maybe not.”

Hansol smirked. “Then I guess I’ll start cooking.”

You laughed, and the sound lingered, unexpected and warm among the quiet fluorescent aisles. It felt strange. Natural. Dangerous, even. But Hansol didn’t walk away. For once, he didn’t want to.

Again… Hansol never believed the world was small. He believed it was deliberate. The way things happened. The way people crossed paths. Like how he saw you again—twice that same week.

Once, in a quiet bakery when he was grabbing his usual black coffee and you were hunched over a cinnamon bun with whipped cream. You waved when you saw him and offered a bite without hesitation.

Then again, outside the pharmacy. You were picking up vitamins, hair still damp from a shower, bundled in a hoodie and slippers like the world was your living room. You smiled, and that smile sat in his mind for the rest of the day.

The next night, he texted you.

[Unknown Number]

“Don’t tell me you’re going to show up at my gym next.”

You replied ten minutes later:

[Y/n]

“Do you go to the one with the green sign near the station?”

“Asking for a friend. Who likes jelly and kimchi.”

Hansol stared at his screen longer than he meant to, lips twitching into something dangerously close to amusement.

[Vernon]

“If I say yes, you’ll show up on purpose.”

[Y/n]

“No comment.”

It wasn’t normal for him—this kind of banter. But nothing about you was. You weren’t like the people he dealt with. You didn’t walk in with envelopes or plans. You walked in with donuts. With a storm in your past and a laugh that somehow cut through his quiet.

He started texting more after that. Little things.

“Saw this and thought of you.” —attached was a photo of a small bookstore display featuring Nietzsche.

“Is the school near the coffee place?”

“Don’t forget your umbrella this time.”

You answered. Every time. And slowly, it stopped being surprising that you were in his day. It started feeling… expected. He didn’t know if it was dangerous. Maybe it was. But then again, so was he.

Hansol had just finished dinner—nothing fancy, just some rice and grilled mackerel from a nameless place down the street—when he stepped into the alley behind the building to cut across toward the main road. The air was damp, heavy with the smell of rain and old grease.

Then—

An arm coiled tight around his neck.

His reflexes kicked in. No time to think.

He dropped his weight low, elbow driving backward into the assailant’s ribs. A grunt. Another twist, and he slammed the stranger against the wall. The man fought hard, fists flying, but Hansol moved faster. A punch to the jaw, then a brutal knee to the gut. The man collapsed in a heap, unconscious before his body fully hit the ground.

Hansol didn’t wait.

He darted through the alley, turning corners, hand sliding into the pocket of his coat where his gun rested.

Every sound was a threat. Every shadow, a question. Someone wanted him dead. That much, he knew.

Then—

Movement.

A flash of white fabric. Soft footsteps. Running. He raised his weapon.

But then your voice cracked through the air.

“Vernon!”

You came into view like a ghost out of a nightmare—wearing what looked like a nightgown, breath coming in short, fast puffs. And in your hand—

A gun.

He blinked. “What the hell—?”

You looked just as shocked to see him. “Why are you here like this? What happened? What is this?” his eyes dropped to the weapon in your hand, then to your clothes—ripped slightly, stained from the scuffle.

You followed his gaze and swallowed. “Someone broke into my place. I—I knocked him out and took his gun.”

His jaw tightened. “You should’ve called the police.”

“I was too scared,” you said, voice breaking. Your fingers gripped his jacket like it was the only solid thing left. “I couldn’t think straight.”

He understood that. Who could think clearly when death brushed your skin?

With a sigh, Hansol pulled off his coat and draped it over your shoulders, steadying your hands. “Stay with me.”

He gripped your wrist, careful but firm, and led you toward another alleyway—a shortcut to his apartment. His mind raced, calculating. Someone was targeting both of you. This wasn’t a coincidence.

Then he saw it. A flicker of movement near the stone gate at the far end. A silhouette.

Gun raised.

In one motion, Hansol spun, pulling you flush to his chest, shielding you. His arm extended, finger on the trigger—

Bang.

The shot rang out clean. The figure crumpled, weapon falling from their grasp with a metallic thud.

Silence. Then just your breathing, heavy and uneven against his collarbone.

Hansol slammed the apartment door shut and double-locked it. The air inside was warm, lived-in. Sparse lighting and the faint smell of black coffee clung to the corners. He didn’t speak as he dropped his coat, yanked open a drawer beneath the shoe rack, and tossed you one of his black jacket.

“Here. Wear this, you’re shivering.”

You caught it silently, hands still trembling from the alley encounter.

Hansol was already moving—opening cabinets, drawers, retrieving a duffel bag from under the couch. He threw in a handful of ammunition, a switchblade, burner phones, an old passport. The shift in his demeanor was swift—methodical, practiced. This wasn’t the first time he had to move quickly.

“You’re not safe anymore,” he muttered as he knelt beside a safe hidden in the floorboards. He clicked it open and pulled out two more handguns. “Keep these. One in your bag, one on you. Safety’s on. Don’t take it off unless you’re aiming to kill.”

He placed one gun in your palm, firm and cold.

But you didn’t grip it.

Not yet.

Hansol turned his back to you, kneeling again to tie up the duffel’s zipper.

And that’s when he felt it—

A sharp, chilling pressure at the back of his neck. Metal. He froze. His eyes shifted to the window’s reflection in front of him—and there you were.

Gun in hand. Arm steady. Finger near the trigger.

His breath caught.

“Shit.”

Hansol’s fingers were still wrapped loosely around the gun when you reached into your night gown pocket and pulled out something small—flat, encased in leather. You flipped it open.

The badge caught the dim apartment light, flashing gold and stark against the dark—

NIS. National Intelligence Service.

His jaw locked.

You looked up at him, expression unreadable now. Everything—your trembling hands, the nervous smiles, the soft-spoken fear—fell off you like a mask. Your voice, when you spoke again, was steady. Crisp. Cold.

“Let’s go down,” you said. “People are waiting outside.”

The shift hit Hansol in the gut like a steel punch. Your tone—professional, sharp, devoid of warmth—wasn’t the woman who brought him donuts, or the one who clung to his jacket in the alley, whispering that she was scared.

You were someone else. Someone trained.

Hansol didn't move right away. He let out a bitter chuckle, short and humorless. “So that’s what this was.”

They’d been waiting for this. For him. For a while. And the worst part? He hadn’t seen it coming. Not once. He, the one who could smell death in a three-mile radius, had been outplayed. Cornered. By you.

The agents closed in. And all Hansol could do was walk. Then he noticed it—no one had their weapons trained on him. Every barrel, every laser dot, every cold, quiet threat… was aimed at you.

His steps faltered.

Eyes narrowing, he turned just enough to catch your profile. Your jaw was clenched, unreadable. But your grip on his wrist trembled—only for a second—before locking firm again. It was a slip, but it told him everything.

“They’re not here for me,” Hansol muttered, voice low and certain. “They’re here for you.”

You didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Your breath hitched. The silence screamed louder than any denial.

Hansol scanned the crowd again, his eyes landing on the man nearest—a clean-cut figure with sharp posture and a standard-issue Glock. The man didn't even spare Hansol a glance as he barked the order.

“Agent Jung. Step away from the target.”

Hansol froze.

Agent Jung.

So even your name… had been real.

The gun you still held to his neck hadn’t wavered, but he could feel it now—your arms weren’t braced in duty anymore. They were trembling beneath the weight of something heavier. Regret.

“Y/n,” the man said again, harsher this time. “You know the protocol. You’ve compromised the mission. Step away—now.”

Hansol turned slowly, deliberately. Your eyes met his. Not the eyes of a stranger, not the eyes of a spy—but of someone who had cooked with him, shared stolen laughter in the quiet aisles of a grocery store, who had once clutched his jacket in fear and now held a gun to his neck with shaking hands.

You blinked. And something broke.

The muzzle dropped an inch. Then another.

Hansol didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He didn’t want to rush you. This wasn’t about the agents or the mission anymore. This was about whatever war was being waged inside you.

Then, slowly, you reached into your coat pocket and pressed something cold and familiar into his hand.

One of his guns. The one he’d given you.

Your fingers curled over his. You leaned in, your lips grazing his ear, and whispered, “In three.”

Hansol’s mouth twitched. Damn.

He didn’t know what twisted part of him found this thrilling—but it was there. He could feel it rising like heat under his skin. A hell of a night was about to begin, and his heart wasn’t afraid.

It was alive.

He counted in silence.

“One…”

Your eyes flicked sideways. Your stance shifted.

“Two…”

The man in front of you stepped forward, aiming. “Agent Jung, do not engage—”

“Three.”

In a single motion, Hansol twisted left, catching your wrist to pivot you behind him as he fired up, shattering the overhead lights. The alley plunged into chaos—glass rained, red beams danced across the walls like wild eyes.

You dropped low, scooping a weapon from a fallen agent and rolled behind a car.

Hansol was already moving—swift, calculated, every movement a blur.

Two agents dropped before they could find cover. Another shouted, trying to call for backup, before a clean shot from you silenced him.

“Parking lot,” you said between breaths. “East exit’s clear.”

Hansol reached for your hand. “Then what are we waiting for?”

You didn’t hesitate. Your fingers met his, tighter than ever. No orders now. No protocol. No lies. Just two fugitives, running headfirst into the dark.

And Hansol—grinning, blood thrumming—knew one thing for sure.

This was far from over.

The road stretched endlessly in front of them, headlights carving through the darkness like a scalpel. Hansol gripped the steering wheel in silence, the hum of the engine the only thing filling the air between you. You sat rigidly in the passenger seat, tapping furiously on your phone, switching between encrypted channels, hoping for a response.

Nothing.

No confirmation. No debrief. No explanation.

Just silence… and that one chilling command you’d caught before the line went dead.

"Terminate if compromised."

Your pulse roared in your ears. The phone shook in your hands. With a breath that barely stayed in your lungs, you shut it off and—without a second thought—hurled it out of the window. The sharp crack of glass on asphalt echoed like a closing door.

Hansol didn’t say anything at first. But you caught the smirk twitching on his lips through the faint dashboard light. Of course he noticed.

“What?” you snapped, your voice rougher than intended.

He didn’t look at you. Just kept his eyes on the road. “Nothing.”

You turned fully toward him, eyes narrowed. “You’re enjoying this.”

Hansol let out a breath that was nearly a laugh, but there was a thread of disbelief in it. “No. I’m trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Wrap your head around what?” you asked, biting back the storm in your chest.

He glanced at you, just briefly. “I mean, first off—you’re not a wife with a violent husband. You’re NIS.”

You said nothing.

“Second, you tried to arrest me. After I saved you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And third—plot twist of the year—they weren’t even coming for me.” He turned to you with a smirk. “You really buried the lead there.”

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered under your breath. Your fists clenched in your lap.

“And what?” Hansol continued, quieter now. “You were going to let them take me? Tie up a loose end?”

You looked away, jaw tight. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

“That’s not a no.”

“No,” you snapped. “It’s not.”

His silence returned, but it wasn’t comfortable—it was sharp. Heavy. He shifted in his seat, his hands tightening on the wheel. The smirk was gone.

“Figures,” he muttered.

You exhaled through your nose, shoulders tense. “Don’t pretend you’re some innocent bystander. The agency had every reason to keep eyes on you.”

“Yeah?” he bit back, calm tone fraying. “Then why are those same eyes on you now?”

That stopped you.

He chuckled, low and cold. “Exactly.”

The tension in the car was thick enough to strangle. The betrayal ran both ways, and neither of you were pretending otherwise now. You stared ahead at the road, your pulse drumming against your ribs.

“I don’t know what they’re hiding,” you said finally, voice brittle. “But they weren’t just watching you. They used me to get close.”

Hansol scoffed under his breath, but didn’t interrupt.

“And now they’re trying to erase it. Erase me.”

A long pause.

The night stretched on, the highway empty except for their car cutting through it like a blade.

Hansol’s knuckles were tight on the steering wheel, but his tone stayed even when he spoke again. “Then… is Lee Seokmin real?”

You nodded slowly, still staring out into the dark. “An old friend. Got him a lot of cash for the role. We're going to his safe house.”

The car’s engine cut off with a low rumble, and the world fell into silence again. A worn cabin stood before you—quiet, nondescript, half-buried by trees and dusk. No lights, no sign of life. But you knew better.

You moved first, brushing past Hansol as you stepped toward the entrance with practiced caution. He followed, eyes sharp, tense fingers near the hem of his jacket—close enough to draw if anything went wrong.

The front door creaked open under your hand. No alarm. No traps. Just the smell of dust and old wood.

As you stepped inside, Hansol scanned the place in quick, calculated sweeps. A map folded on the table. A lantern, a half-empty mug, sealed ammunition cases. The kind of house built for vanishing.

You dropped your bag to the floor, exhaled slowly.

"Seokmin was an agent as well," you said, breaking the silence as you pulled off your jacket. “He ran a month ago. Burned all his ties. Don’t know the reason… just vanished mid-mission.”

You ran your fingers along the edge of the desk, as if grounding yourself with something familiar. “He left me this. Said if anything ever felt off at HQ, come here and don’t look back.”

Hansol raised a brow. “So he knew something.”

You nodded. “He always knew things before anyone else. It’s why they hated him.”

There was a pause.

Then Hansol asked, voice low and unreadable, “Was he… close to you?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Just met his eyes.

“We trusted each other,” you said finally. “More than most.”

Hansol didn’t push. He turned instead, eyes flicking toward the window, body never fully relaxed.

“Do you think we’re safe here?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Safe enough to breathe. Not enough to sleep.”

He smirked, just barely. “Good. I wasn’t planning to sleep anyway.”

You scanned the safe house—barebones, dim, but stocked. Your hands moved quickly, gathering weapons, spare mags, folding maps. One bag, efficient. No room for mistakes.

“We drive to Busan before sunrise,” you said, checking a pistol’s slide before slipping it into the side pouch. “Lay low for a day or two. I have a contact who can forge IDs. After that, we head to China by boat.”

Behind you, Hansol leaned against the doorway, arms crossed casually. “I’m coming with you?”

You paused mid-movement. Turned slightly. “What?”

“One bag. Two sets of plans,” he said, one brow raised in mock surprise. “I assumed I was invited.”

You scoffed, flustered. “You’re not. I mean—I didn’t think you would even want to. I figured you'd have your own escape planned or… I don’t know. Whatever. I don’t have to explain this.”

Hansol’s lips curled into a smirk. He pushed off the doorframe, walking toward you. “Relax,” he said softly. “I’ll come with you.”

He reached out, gently taking the bag from your hands, setting it aside without looking.

His fingers brushed against a loose strand of your hair, tucking it carefully behind your ear. Then, they lingered—just for a second too long—against your cheek.

“The fact that I don’t feel betrayed by you,” he murmured, his voice low and unsettlingly honest, “is dangerous.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But you didn’t stop him, either.

His fingers traced the line of your jaw, and you leaned into the touch without thinking. Your breath hitched.

He tilted his head slightly. “At least now, I don’t need to feel bad about liking you.”

Your eyes flicked up to his just as he leaned in—deliberate, slow, with the kind of tension that made the air feel sharp. His hand slid to the back of your neck, gentle but firm, and then—

He kissed you.

There was nothing rushed about it. No fury, no heat of survival. Just something solid, something dangerously steady in a world that had just fallen apart.

When he pulled back, your forehead rested against his. You could feel the weight of his breath, feel your pulse pounding through your ribs like it wanted to say something your mouth couldn’t.

“You sure about this?” you whispered.

Hansol gave a soft, short laugh. “No. But I’m sure about you.”

Your breath tangled with his, and for a moment, time warped—flickering between everything you were running from and the person standing in front of you.

Hansol’s hands didn’t leave you. They rested at your waist, grounding you. But the silence between you cracked like a match striking dry wood.

You should’ve stepped away. You didn’t.

Instead, your fingers reached for him—curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. You didn’t need to say anything. He was already moving with you, pressing you back until your spine met the wall of the safe house.

The kiss deepened, no longer careful.

It was urgent now—desperate, laced with the kind of heat only shared between people who had seen death knock and chose to cling to something alive instead.

His jacket dropped first, then yours. Hands fumbled against belts and holsters, mouths parting only to breathe hard, uneven. There was no room for caution—only want, and the tremble of adrenaline refusing to fade.

“You should hate me,” you whispered against his skin.

Hansol’s mouth grazed your neck, voice low and ragged. “I should. I don’t.”

The bag of weapons lay forgotten on the floor. The outside world—the betrayal, the chase, the agency you once trusted—felt miles away.

Morning slammed into you like a slap to the face—uninvited, merciless, and too bright for a pair of fugitives with no time left to lose.

You woke to the weight of a warm palm brushing your cheek. The low hum of a car engine idled outside the cabin’s thin windowpane, muffled by cheap curtains and the restless hush of wind through pine branches.

“Hey.” Hansol’s voice cut through the fuzziness in your head, a soft rasp close to your ear—gentle, but edged with urgency. “Y/n. Up. Now.”

Your eyes cracked open. For a fleeting moment you didn’t know where you were. Then the night came back in pieces: the safe house. The loaded bag on the floor. The stolen heat of his mouth on yours. The truth sitting between you like a live grenade, its pin half-pulled.

You shoved yourself upright, blinking the sleep from your eyes. “What time is it?”

Hansol shot a glance at the crooked wall clock above the door. “Eight. We should’ve been gone an hour ago.”

You groaned, pressing your palms to your face, trying to squeeze out the ache behind your eyes. “God—did we really—”

His low chuckle cut you off. Rough, amused, and infuriatingly unbothered. “We really did. Also… you snore, by the way.”

Your head snapped up, a weak glare in place of a retort. “Shut up,” you muttered, already fumbling for your jacket and shoving your half-loaded pistol deep into the bag beside the spare clips. He caught your wrist just as you brushed past him—strong fingers wrapping around the pulse point, halting you like it was nothing.

Hansol leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your lips. Forehead pressed lightly to yours, grounding you in the middle of this storm.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice steady as an oath. “You’ll be safe with me. I promise. Even if the whole damn country wants us dead.”

You stared at him—really stared—and for one quiet heartbeat, all the running, the betrayals, the blood that wouldn’t wash off yet… none of it mattered more than this.

You nodded, the word stuck in your throat but clear in your eyes.

“Okay.”

The car rumbled down the highway an hour later, tires humming against cracked asphalt, a battered duffel bag tossed in the back seat next to leftover ammo boxes and half-spilled maps.

You pulled into a quiet rest stop near the coast—last chance for a hot drink and anything vaguely pretending to be breakfast before Busan swallowed you both whole.

Hansol returned from the convenience store, dropped a packaged sandwich and a steaming coffee in front of you where you sat on a cracked picnic bench beneath a lonesome pine. Salt air drifted in from somewhere past the highway, a briny promise of freedom you weren’t sure you’d ever touch.

You ate in silence for a while, trucks and early commuters groaning by in the distance. Your body was wound tight, yet beside him, your heart felt oddly, stubbornly steady—like he was an anchor in the storm you’d unleashed together.

But the quiet didn’t last.

“Why did you become a hitman?” you asked suddenly, your voice rough from sleep.

Hansol didn’t answer right away. He turned the coffee cup in his hands, thumb pressing down on the cheap plastic lid, releasing and pressing again—like he needed something to hold him here.

When he finally looked at you, there was no mask left. Just Hansol—raw, unguarded, heartbreakingly young beneath the man you’d come to trust with your life.

“I didn’t choose it,” he said simply. His voice was so calm it almost hurt. “I was trained for it before I even knew what the word meant.”

Your half-eaten sandwich sagged in your lap, forgotten.

Hansol gave a small, bitter laugh that didn’t touch his eyes. “The first time, I thought maybe… if I took out people who deserved it, it would mean something. That it would balance out whatever was broken inside me.”

He looked past you then, eyes lost to a road only he could see. “I kept telling myself that lie. That I was doing good work. That ending bad people made up for how I started. And it gave me… a life. Purpose.”

His gaze flicked back to yours—steady now, but threaded through with a grief you knew too well.

His gaze flicked back to yours—steady now, but threaded through with a grief you recognized too well.

He drew in a slow breath, then murmured almost to himself, “He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster.”

Your eyes snapped to his, the quote sparking recognition deep in your chest. “Nietzsche.”

A small smile ghosted across Hansol’s lips, tired but real. “Yeah. Funny thing to live by for a hitman, huh?”

You huffed a laugh, more air than sound. “I remember that line.”

Hansol cocked his head, studying you like he was reading a puzzle he already knew the answer to. “Did you ever actually read philosophy, Y/n?”

You dropped your gaze, nudging the sandwich aside, suddenly fascinated by the cracks in the old picnic table. “No. Tried. But it just… messes with my head.”

Hansol barked a short laugh, not mocking but almost relieved. He reached out, nudging your knee with his own under the table, his hand still wrapped around his coffee cup like it was armor.

“It does,” he agreed quietly. “Breaks it open, then leaves you to pick up the pieces.”

You looked up at him then, the salt wind tugging at your hair, the taste of half-meant promises between you. For a breath, neither of you were fugitives. Just two people stranded in the same question: Who am I now?

A truck engine rumbled to life behind you, snapping the moment. You stood, offered him a hand.

“Come on, philosopher. Busan’s not gonna wait for us.”

Busan swallowed you whole in the haze of late afternoon—salt air heavy with brine, fish stalls, and the sharp cries of gulls circling overhead like they could smell secrets slipping through the alleys.

Hansol wedged the borrowed car into a narrow spot behind Jagalchi Market, where rows of battered scooters leaned against graffiti-tagged walls. You tugged your cap lower over your brow as the sea breeze tugged loose strands of hair across your mouth.

“First things first,” you said, scrolling through your phone for the address burned into your memory. “We need clothes. Food for the ferry ride. And then—my contact.”

Hansol cocked an eyebrow as he fell into step beside you, weaving through the crush of fishmongers and tourists trailing plastic bags dripping with saltwater.

“Contact,” he repeated, voice edged with a lazy mockery that didn’t fool you for a second. “Should I be worried?”

“Only if you hate pretty faces and suspiciously efficient paperwork.”

He gave a sharp bark of laughter, but you didn’t miss how his eyes flicked sideways at you, narrowing just enough to betray the flicker of possessiveness he probably thought he hid well.

“Oh, I hate both,” he said dryly. “Definitely hate both.”

You bumped his shoulder as you pushed through a cluster of chattering students in matching uniforms. “Relax, Vernon. He’s harmless.”

Hansol clicked his tongue, but you could feel the tension rolling off him—like a blade pressed flat against your spine, warm and unspoken.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

You led Hansol through a maze of back alleys behind the market, ducking under hanging laundry and sidestepping crates of flopping fish that stank of yesterday’s tide. Finally, you stopped at a battered metal door tucked between a noodle shop and a storage shed. You didn’t bother to knock—just rapped twice and shoved it open.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of oil and cheap cologne. Files and fake passports littered a metal desk, an old radio murmured some upbeat pop song in the background. And there he was—Kim Mingyu.

Tall, tanned, muscle packed tight into a plain white shirt stretched across broad shoulders. His grin was wide and careless, boyish dimples carved deep into his cheeks—a dangerous combination with those quick, clever eyes that flicked straight past Hansol and pinned you like a butterfly.

“Well, well, well…” Mingyu drawled, arms already open as he crossed the room in three easy strides. “If it isn’t my favorite headache come crawling back.”

Before you could stop him, he caught your shoulders and planted a kiss on one cheek—then the other, lingering just enough to feel his smirk against your skin.

“Mingyu—” you warned, shoving him back a step with a palm to his chest.

He laughed, ignoring the shove entirely, then flicked a teasing glance over your shoulder at Hansol. “Relax, man, I’m just saying hello. She’s the one who taught me how to greet French diplomats—very convincingly, might I add.”

Hansol didn’t say a word, but you felt his presence shift closer behind you—a quiet threat wrapped in casual silence.

Mingyu winked at you and released your shoulders, only to cup your face lightly and squint at you like he was looking for cracks. “Here’s my favorite person—finally got your pretty ass here in one piece. So tell me, boss… what happened? You look like you crawled through a bar fight and made out with a hurricane.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking his hands away. “We made it out of Seoul—barely. Turns out the Agency didn’t want me alive long enough to file paperwork.”

Mingyu’s grin faded a fraction. He dropped his hand, gaze flicking to Hansol, then back to you. “No surprises there. Seokmin was here an hour ago getting the same escape kit you’re about to beg off me.”

Your pulse jumped. “Seokmin was here?”

“Yup.” Mingyu tapped a stack of IDs on the desk, then leaned a hip against it, folding those annoyingly perfect arms. “Asked for a new identity and ferry papers to Shanghai.”

Hansol shifted beside you, voice quiet but edged in iron. “Where is he now?”

Mingyu’s smile returned—wolfish now, eyes flicking between you both like he was watching his favorite drama in real time. “That, jealous friend, depends. How nicely are you gonna ask?”

Before Hansol could open his mouth—and before Mingyu could smirk his way into getting punched—you stepped in, palm pressed lightly to Hansol’s chest to hold him back.

“Mingyu, behave,” you warned, voice low but firm.

Mingyu’s grin only widened, eyes dancing. “Behave? When did you ever like me behaving?” He flicked his chin toward Hansol, who stood a step too close behind you, bristling like a guard dog. “So… who’s Mr. Sunshine here? Bodyguard? Stalker?”

You shot him a look. “He’s… a friend.”

Mingyu clutched at his chest dramatically. “Friend? More than me?”

You almost rolled your eyes out of your skull, but then you felt Hansol’s stare burn into the side of your face—sharp, questioning.

You ignored it, turning back to Mingyu. “He makes sure I’m safe. That’s all you need to know.”

Mingyu cooed like you’d just handed him the gossip of the year. He leaned in, stage-whisper conspiratorial. “Mmm. Lover? You always did have a thing for the tragic types.”

You pushed at his shoulder—hard enough to shove him back a step. “Shut up. Just give me what I asked for.”

But behind you, Hansol’s voice rumbled soft and dangerously amused, low enough for only you to hear.

“Lover, huh?”

You felt your ears heat immediately, but refused to turn around. “Don’t start.”

Mingyu just laughed—loud and delighted—as he bent over the battered desk, rifling through stacks of fresh IDs. “God, I missed this. Okay, Romeo and Juliet. Let’s get you two ghosts out of my city before you ruin my clean record.”

The dusty back office rattled with the hum of an ancient fan while you and Hansol lingered by the grimy window, the staff cursing under his breath as he double-checked exit stamps and ferry tickets.

Hansol leaned one shoulder to the wall, eyes drifting lazily over the port beyond the glass—where fishing boats and rusty cargo skiffs rocked gently on choppy water. Then something snagged his gaze. A shape too familiar to dismiss.

“Y/n.” His voice cut through the staff's muttering. “Look.”

You turned just in time to see a tall figure slip through a gap between two crates stacked high with fishing nets—black leather jacket, faded cap pulled low.

Seokmin.

For a split second, your breath caught in your throat—then your body moved before your mind caught up. You shoved past him, crashing through the door into the bright slap of salt air.

“Seokmin!” you shouted, but he didn’t turn. He broke into a sprint instead—boot soles slamming the wet dock boards.

“Shit—Hansol, come on!”

Hansol was already at your side, boots pounding in rhythm with yours, the two of you tearing past startled fishermen hauling ropes and crates of wriggling octopus.

Seokmin darted left, vaulted a rusted railing, and landed hard on the deck of a battered trawler bobbing against its moorings. He scrambled for the cockpit, fumbling with the ignition as the old diesel engine coughed awake.

You hit the deck a heartbeat later, Hansol right behind you, gun drawn but lowered—eyes locked on the man who, for years, had been your friend, your cover, your silent co-conspirator.

“Seokmin—don’t!” you yelled, hands spread, voice raw from wind and betrayal.

But Seokmin barely glanced over his shoulder, one boot kicking at the gear lever, desperate to launch the boat out of the harbor before you could close the distance.

Hansol’s hand shot out, grabbing your elbow just as you lunged for Seokmin’s jacket. Together, you slammed him back against the rusty cabin door, the engine roaring beneath your feet.

Cornered. Caught. Nowhere to run but open water—and not fast enough.

Breathless, you locked eyes with him.

His chest heaved, eyes darting between you and the silent threat that was Hansol at your shoulder.

“You're here…” Seokmin rasped, voice cracking with something deeper than fear—guilt, maybe, or something darker. “…they're coming for us. There's no safe space.”

“Seokmin—” you stepped forward, trying to steady him by his shoulders. “Who? Who’s coming? Who sold us out?”

But Seokmin just laughed—high, splintered, wrong. His knees buckled before you could catch him properly. Hansol stepped in, grabbing under his arm to keep him from cracking his skull on the deck.

Too late. His head lolled forward, eyes rolling white for an instant before flickering shut.

You and Hansol were left half crouched on the swaying boat deck, your fingers fisted tight in Seokmin’s jacket, the sound of the harbor all around you—seagulls crying, waves slapping hulls, engines growling as if mocking you with the normalcy of the day.

“What the hell—” you gasped, heart pounding so hard you thought you’d pass out too.

Hansol looked from Seokmin’s unconscious face to you, mouth twisting into something between a snarl and a grim laugh.

“Fantastic,” he bit out. “Just fantastic. Now what, Agent Jung?”

Your mind spun—Seokmin’s words echoing like a gunshot in a tunnel: No safe space.

The salty wind lashed strands of your hair across your mouth as you crouched on the old trawler’s weather-beaten deck, knees tucked up, braced against the gentle heave of waves beneath you. Seokmin lay sprawled on his back beside you, jacket half unzipped, face pale under the slap of late afternoon sun.

Hansol stood a few feet away, half-shadowed by the rusty cabin wall—legs braced wide, one hand resting casually on the grip of his holstered gun, the other shielding his eyes as he swept a glare across the endless sprawl of water. He looked carved from stone: all hard lines and coiled patience, like he’d been born with the ocean wind snarling through his hair.

Seokmin’s eyelids twitched once, twice—then fluttered open to the white glare of the sky. His brow crumpled in confusion at the sight of gulls swooping lazy arcs overhead, their cries shrill and mocking. He sucked in a thin breath, licked cracked lips, and turned his head just enough to catch a shadow looming over him.

Hansol stared down at him like a cat sizing up an injured mouse. He didn’t blink. Didn’t smile.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.” His tone was so dry it could’ve sanded rust off the deck.

Seokmin’s mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again, the shape of your name forming on a hoarse exhale. He dragged his gaze sideways until it landed on you—your face half hidden by wind-tangled hair, eyes sharp as broken glass but weirdly soft around the edges when they landed on him.

“Y/n…? What—where—what the hell—”

You didn’t bother with sympathy. You thunked a plastic water bottle against his chest so hard he wheezed. “Drink. And breathe, genius. Or pass out again, I don’t care.”

Hansol’s chuckle rumbled under the whine of the old engine. He shifted his weight, boots scuffing the deck. “We’re on our way to Shanghai, by the way. Mingyu said that’s where you were headed—so… surprise. Road trip, but wetter.”

Seokmin choked on the first mouthful of water, hacking like an old man as a splatter hit his chin. He pointed an accusing finger at Hansol, hand shaking so badly he nearly smacked himself in the nose.

“Shanghai?! Who are you?! Why is he—what is this—”

Hansol shrugged, unbothered, mouth curling into a shark’s grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bodyguard. Lover. Emotional support hitman. Depends who you ask.”

You shot him a death glare but didn’t dignify it with a comeback. Instead, you jabbed a finger at Seokmin’s forehead, ignoring how he flinched. “We didn’t have options, Seokmin. Either I drag your sorry ass with me or they’d find your corpse floating back to Seoul in a week.”

Seokmin’s wide eyes ping-ponged between you and Hansol—then to the rolling gray water stretching forever in every direction. He sagged back down with a dramatic groan, using the bottle now like an ice pack pressed to his temple.

“Perfect. I faint for five minutes and wake up in the middle of the sea. God, I hate my life!”

Hansol crouched down just close enough to cast Seokmin’s face in shadow, voice dropping to a low, pleasant threat that made even your skin crawl in a good way.

“Behave, buddy.”

Seokmin squeaked something that sounded like a prayer to every sea god he could remember. You laughed—sharp and sudden, the sound ripping through the salt and the fear like sunlight splitting storm clouds.

Hansol flicked you a glance, half-smirk playing on his lips despite the tension pulling his shoulders taut. And just for a fleeting second, the ocean didn’t feel so vast.

Your laugh hadn’t even finished echoing across the choppy water when you turned back to Seokmin—knees digging into the rough deck, eyes narrowing as the weight of everything you still didn’t know came crashing back in.

“Alright, Seokmin—enough stand-up comedy,” you said, voice low and sharp. “Tell us. All of it. Why did you run? What the hell is really happening to us?”

Seokmin rubbed a shaking hand over his mouth, still pale and clammy, breath misting the air between you. For a moment he just stared at you—like he was cataloging whether you could handle it. Then he huffed out a bitter laugh so soft it almost didn’t survive the wind.

“This wasn’t supposed to get this messed up,” he muttered, voice cracking at the edges. He wiped a tear that wasn’t really a tear, just the ocean salt stinging his eyes. “God, we were kids… Should’ve known better.”

Hansol shifted behind you—close enough that you could feel the tight coil of muscle and mistrust vibrating off him. He didn’t say a word, but you knew he was listening to every syllable.

Seokmin lifted his eyes to yours, dark and raw. Older.

“Remember what we talked about… about the foster home?” he rasped. “How we were all placed there, how they called it a ‘haven for war orphans’? We knew It wasn’t. It was a breeding ground.”

You felt the blood drain from your face. “I remember. But we knew that. We knew we were trained—conditioned.”

Seokmin swallowed hard, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “I got orders months ago. Quiet ones. My assignment was to start eliminating everyone from that program—everyone. Us. The old handlers... You.”

The words punched the air right out of your lungs. “Why? Why now?”

Seokmin barked a humorless laugh. “They’re phasing us out, Y/n. Cleaning up the old experiment. Making room for a new one. A better one. Perfect little soldiers—no flaws, no memories, no stupid feelings that make us hesitate to pull the trigger on each other.”

He dropped his gaze to the deck, shoulders curling in on themselves. “I tried to dig deeper. To see who’s funding it. How far it goes. It’s worse than we thought. They’ve got a whole batch of kids—trained harder, broken younger. They don’t want anyone left to question it. So they started tying up loose ends. Us.”

The gentle slap of waves against the hull filled the silence that followed—too gentle, too normal for the earthquake cracking through your bones.

“How many more of us are alive?”

Seokmin met your eyes. Defeated. Hollow. “I don’t know. Not many. And we’re next if we stop moving.”

The harbor at Shanghai cracked open before dawn—fog clinging to rusted cranes and the scent of diesel heavy enough to choke on. You’d barely spoken since you left the South Korean coast behind.

Hansol had watched you the whole way—how your shoulders stayed stiff even when you pretended to sleep, how your fingers ghosted over the old scar on your neck you’d lied about once upon a time.

When the boat bumped against the dock, he pressed a cheap chocolate bar into your hand. The wrapper crinkled, loud in the hush before morning chaos.

“You’ll be fine,” Hansol murmured, low enough that only you caught it. His eyes held yours steady, unwavering even as the deck crew shouted around you. “Worst case, I teach you how to kill. Properly this time.”

It was stupid. It was wrong. But the corner of your mouth twitched—just for a breath—and the flicker of it was enough to make his own chest ease for the first time in hours.

Seokmin jumped down from the railing beside you, rubbing at his sore shoulder from where Hansol had kindly yanked him out of that fishing net he’d almost fallen into earlier. He jerked a thumb your way, grinning at Hansol like they weren’t all fugitives now.

“What are you babysitting her for, Vernon? She’s the biggest badass out of the three of us— she dragged my corpse out of Seoul. I say let her handle you instead.”

Hansol shot him a dry look, then turned to you—taking in the smudge of fatigue under your eyes, the chocolate still unopened in your palm.

“She is,” he agreed simply. No teasing this time, no heat. Just the truth—sharp and steady as a blade.

The drive out of the harbor city was long and winding—through roads that spat them out at nameless villages, rice paddies blurring in the rearview until even memories of Seoul felt like a half-forgotten nightmare.

Thanks to you and Seokmin—both fluent enough to barter for a dusty secondhand van and a moldy apartment above a closed-down bakery—Hansol didn’t have to do much but watch, silent and absorbing, while the two of you did the talking.

The first month was awkward. Hansol hovered at the edges of local diners while you negotiated extra bowls of rice or free pickles from soft-hearted aunties who liked your accent. He ate in silence, listening to you and Seokmin argue over soy sauce ratios like a pair of squabbling siblings—each word foreign yet comforting in how it filled the spaces his old life had left hollow.

By the second month, the routine softened. Hansol found the abandoned town library a mile from your shared apartment—its books dusty, its shelves crooked, its windows permanently clouded by sea mist. He asked the local council for permission to “watch over it” for free, and they agreed with a shrug—no one visited anyway.

Most days, the door creaked open once or twice at most: a child looking for picture books, a bored housewife browsing old romance novels. Between those fleeting interruptions, Hansol read. Philosophy—whole shelves of it, Chinese and Western alike. He liked the quiet arguments on paper better than any order barked through a phone back when killing people was his job description.

Sometimes you would come by after your morning shift at the Chinese restaurant two blocks away—your apron still dusted with flour, your fingers warm from the wok. You’d press your nose to his cheek, ignoring the stale scent of old paper and coffee in favor of the steady comfort he’d grown into.

By the third month, it all felt real enough that the old ghosts only murmured now and then.

Nights were his favorite. The library keys heavy in his pocket, the hush of closing time settling like a promise. And you—tucked into his side on the thrifted couch in the corner of the tiny living room you both called home.

Hansol didn’t expect this. Happiness, he realized, wasn’t the roaring thing people described. It was quieter: your laughter bubbling from the kitchen, Seokmin’s footsteps creaking on the floorboards upstairs, your weight soft against him as he traced the lines of your collarbone while a half-read Nietzsche balanced on the armrest.

He’d forgotten how to be gentle—until you gave him the perfect excuse to remember every day.

Even paying rent was bearable, with Seokmin grumbling about leaks and sharing the bills without complaint.

An ex-hitman. A runaway agent. A traitor turned tenant upstairs.

And you—at the heart of it all.

Hansol closed his book one slow night and pressed a kiss to your hair, the words still echoing somewhere behind his ribs:

If this is freedom, I’ll guard it better than any job I ever did.

It was the crack of gunfire that tore the hush of your little safe life apart—one sharp echo that rattled the thin windows and the fragile peace you’d built in three stolen months.

You jerked awake, pulse stuttering as you instinctively reached for the warmth beside you—Hansol, already half up on one elbow, eyes wide and sharp in the dark.

For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke—just stared at each other in the faint spill of streetlight sneaking through the curtain. It was a look that spoke in the language you’d both learned the hard way: Are you okay? Stay with me.

Then came the heavy thud of feet on the hallway stairs—boots or shoes, too many to count, muffled orders barked in a dialect that even your sleepy brain recognized as local police slang.

Hansol slipped from the bed, a predator’s grace in every careful step. He tugged on sweatpants, grabbed the pistol he still kept tucked in a false book spine near the dresser—old habits die slow deaths—and turned to you with a rough whisper.

“It’s okay. Stay behind me, yeah?” His palm pressed briefly to your cheek—warm reassurance against the cold coil tightening in your belly.

Out in the dim hallway, Seokmin was already cracking open the door to the stairwell, his hair sticking up wildly, only half awake but eyes snapping clear the moment he caught Hansol’s low question:

“You heard it too?”

Seokmin just nodded, jaw tight. You stepped close behind Hansol, fingers brushing the bare skin of his back—anchoring yourself as much as him.

“What was that?” you murmured, voice raspy with sleep and dread.

Seokmin glanced back at you both, then stepped outside barefoot, the boards creaking under his weight. He disappeared down the landing while you and Hansol waited, every second stretching thin and tight as piano wire.

Hansol wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing you against his chest. You felt the steady hammer of his heart, the calm strength in the way he kissed the top of your head despite the tension rolling off him in waves.

“It’s nothing, okay? Just some idiot with bad timing.” His whisper ghosted against your temple—equal parts comfort and promise.

The door swung open again. Seokmin came back in, hair ruffled from the wind, an exasperated scoff riding his breath.

“Local cops. They’re hauling in one of the dragsters from the pier. Guy tried to bolt through the alley—gun went off, but he’s in cuffs now. Just dumb luck they passed our floor.”

Hansol let out a quiet huff—half laugh, half leftover adrenaline—and pressed another kiss to your hair.

“See?” he murmured. “Wrong place, wrong time. We’re fine.”

Seokmin rolled his eyes, already trudging back upstairs to his bed. “Next time, lock the damn window. I need my sleep.”

Hansol just chuckled under his breath, his arm never leaving your shoulders as he guided you back inside—past the ghosts that still sometimes rattled your door, but couldn’t touch the sanctuary you’d both built from scratch.

The library was a tomb at midday—dust motes drifting through shafts of sunlight, the faint hum of an old fan the only thing keeping the heat from swallowing the narrow aisles whole. Hansol sat alone at the back desk, sleeves pushed to his elbows, ink smudged on the side of his palm from labeling the new arrivals.

Half of him was content, oddly at peace in this quiet sanctuary of forgotten books and old stories. The other half—it never slept, not really. It flickered awake the moment he tugged open the last battered cardboard box and found, nestled beneath romance paperbacks and old newspapers, a thin manila file marked in Korean:

GwFH-02 PROJECT

Hansol stared at it for a long moment. He knew better than to touch ghosts. But some things called you whether you wanted them or not.

His chair creaked as he sat down at the back table, the file spread open before him. Faint pencil notations, official stamps, the yellowed edges of old secrets. His eyes caught on a seal—simple, sharp, unmistakable.

A logo he hadn’t seen—except once, half-hidden at the bottom of your old badge, the one you’d tucked away beneath the bed back in Busan.

His heart thudded.

He turned the pages with care, his pulse a slow hammer in his ears. A list of names lined the next page, each neat row ending in a brutal red line through the middle—strikeouts like silent executions. His eyes tracked them one by one, jaw tightening, until the list stopped—two names untouched by red ink:

정Y/N — Jung Y/n

이석민 — Lee Seokmin

And there, typed beneath in faded letters: Raised in Gwangju Foster Home.

Hansol’s fingers trembled as he flipped to the last page—a photograph. Black-and-white, edges curled with time.

A group of children in mismatched clothes stood in front of a squat old building with a crooked sign: Gwangju Foster House.

Faces blurred by age—except for the ones circled in red pen.

He found you immediately. A girl, maybe nine, hair pinned back, standing shoulder to shoulder with a boy who was unmistakably Seokmin—round-cheeked but with the same sharp glint in his eyes even then.

And to the far left, nearly cut out by the edge of the photo, half-hidden by an older boy’s shoulder—was him.

Hansol.

Staring at the camera with a blank face.

He hadn’t remembered this place. Not until now.

A distant, sick hum filled his ears—like the sea roaring in a seashell pressed too hard against his head.

He snapped the file shut, breath caught somewhere in his ribs.

You, Seokmin, him. Not a coincidence. Never had been.

Dinner was quiet that night. Too quiet.

The old kitchen table creaked under the weight of three mismatched plates—steamed dumplings, stir-fried greens, and leftover rice warmed a second time because none of you had really remembered to cook.

Seokmin ate like nothing was wrong—shoulders hunched, sleeves rolled up, cracking dumb jokes about the neighbor’s runaway dog. You smiled politely, chiming in when you had to. But Hansol barely tasted the food.

His chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth more than once, the clatter of the neighborhood muffled under the roar inside his head: Your name circled in red. Seokmin’s too. And his own face—hidden in plain sight.

He heard your voice only faintly through the noise.

“Baby?”

You said it again, softer this time, a gentle nudge at the edge of his wandering mind.

“Vernon.”

His eyes snapped to you—startled, caught like a man dragged back from somewhere deep underwater.

You tilted your head, a faint wrinkle between your brows. “Where did you go just now?”

Seokmin let out a small scoff, jabbing another dumpling onto his plate. “He’s been weird since he got home. What did you read this time, professor? Another dead philosopher?”

Hansol ignored him. His eyes were only on you.

“Tell me about it,” he said suddenly, voice so low it almost didn’t sound like him.

You blinked. “About what?”

“The foster home. How they trained you. You and Seokmin.”

The room stiffened at once. Seokmin froze mid-bite. You set your chopsticks down too carefully, a small, deliberate click against the chipped ceramic.

“Baby—” you began, your tone suddenly fragile and tired all at once.

But he pressed on, needing it like a splinter needed pulling. “Tell me. I just… I need to hear it from you.”

You looked at him then—really looked. Not with fear. Not with the fragile softness he’d grown used to waking beside. But with a quiet, raw disappointment that cut deeper than any bullet ever could.

“You promised,” you whispered, voice barely above the hiss of the old kettle on the counter. “You promised me, Vernon. No past. No ghosts. That was the deal.”

Hansol swallowed. But the truth burned his throat too bitter to swallow down now.

“But I deserve to know!”

Seokmin pushed back from the table, hands raised, voice trembling. “Hey—hey—can we not do this now—”

But neither of you heard him.

You glared at Hansol, fighting to keep your voice steady while your chest wanted to break open. “If you open that door, Vernon… if you drag that hell back into our life—then you kill this. Us.”

Hansol’s lips parted—like he might say I’m sorry. Like he might lie and promise to stop digging. But the truth was right there in his eyes: he couldn’t.

Sleep never came easy for Hansol these days.

That night, after the argument you hadn’t really finished, he lay awake far too long—listening to your breathing, to Seokmin’s restless shuffles upstairs, to the faint hum of night insects outside the cracked window.

And when he finally drifted under, the dark did not cradle him gently.

A hallway. Dimly lit. The creak of old floorboards under his tiny feet. Seven years old, maybe eight. Too small to understand what real cruelty tasted like—but old enough to hear it.

A scream, raw and jagged, echoing from somewhere past the sleeping quarters. Not the first one—never the first.

He remembered whispering to the boy next to him, “Did you hear that?”

He remembered the boy rolling over, blank eyes, saying “Sleep, Hansol. It’s nothing.”

It was never nothing.

Tiny Hansol had pressed his ear to the splintered door, trembling, heart a rabbit in a snare.

Then courage—foolish, childish courage—pushed him to slip into the hallway. Bare feet on cold wood. The scream again. Then a groan, low and choked, like someone drowning in their own throat.

He found the room. Half-open door. A girl—in his age—pinned to a cot by rough straps, tears streaking her dirty face. A man leaned over her, syringes lined up on a metal tray. Her eyes found him through the gap—pleading, delirious.

“Help— please—”

Little Hansol backed away. The man turned. A cold look, then a smile, teeth too white. “Back to bed, It’s just a test. You dream too much.”

He ran.

Hansol sat bolt upright, breath ragged, the ghost of a scream ringing in his skull long after the room had gone silent again.

He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of a trembling hand. Next to him, your arm lay draped loosely across his stomach, your breathing slow and steady—utterly untouched by the storm still raging behind his eyes.

A month. Maybe more. This same memory, rising from the grave he’d buried it in the moment he left that damned foster home for good. He’d told himself it was a trick of childhood fear — a boy’s overactive mind before he was rescued by Mr. Ki and forged into the thing people later called Vernon.

Except tonight, in the hush between sleep and waking, it hadn’t felt childish at all. It felt like a warning.

Hansol slid out from under your touch, careful not to rouse you. He crossed the creaking floor and pushed open the window, gulping down the wet night air like a drowning man.

Behind him, you stirred. A sleepy mumble.

“...Vernon?”

He shut the window, cutting off the sticky air, and turned.

You were sitting up now, hair a soft mess around your face, your eyes searching his in the half-dark. “Bad dream again?” you asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

Hansol let out a short laugh—rough, humorless. “You could say that.”

You reached for him, fingers brushing his wrist, grounding him to the now. To you. Not the hallway. Not the screams.

“You’re shaking,” you murmured, concern deepening the line between your brows.

He covered your hand with his own, rough palm swallowing yours completely. “Go back to sleep, love. It’s nothing.”

You frowned, but before you could press, he bent down, kissed your forehead, and let the old name slip away into the dark.

Hansol’s hands stilled over the spine of a returned book—some local student’s half-torn poetry collection—when he spotted it:

A plain envelope, cream-colored, sitting dead-center on his desk like it had grown there overnight. No postage. No fingerprints. Just his real name printed in neat, slanted ink:

Offer for Mr. Choi Hansol.

His breath caught behind his ribs. He looked around, too sharply. The library was its usual graveyard at this hour—two old women gossiping by the history shelf, a single high school boy nodding off over a math workbook. No CCTV. No staff besides him.

Careful not to crumple it, Hansol picked up the envelope and turned it over twice. Nothing else—no seal, no logo. Just him, staring at the truth of his name like a bullet meant only for his skull.

He sank into his creaky chair behind the low desk, the old wood groaning under his weight and his pulse hammering so loud he almost expected the dozing kid to hear it.

With stiff fingers, he broke the flap and slid out a single piece of thin paper.

Only a few words, typed.

Wanna know more about your parents? Do me a favor.

That was it. No signature. No instructions. Just a hook baited perfectly for a man who’d spent thirty years burying questions he’d never dared say out loud.

Hansol’s eyes flicked over the shelves—dusty stacks, uneven rows, the quiet hum of a ceiling fan. He forced himself to breathe, folding the letter once, twice, and tucking it inside the battered leather notebook where he hid receipts for overdue fees and grocery lists.

For a moment, he let his fingers rest on the cover. Choi Hansol. Not Vernon. Not the hitman. Not the runaway boy.

Just him. And somewhere out there, someone knew exactly which ghosts would break him open again.

He stood abruptly, startling the napping kid. “We’re closing in fifteen,” he called, voice steady, though inside him something old and half-dead had begun to claw its way back toward the light.

A few days passed. He tried—truly tried—to pretend the first envelope hadn’t wormed its way into his skull. He shelved books like a machine. He kissed your temple each morning as if his hands didn’t tremble the moment you turned away. He told himself the past was ash, and he was done breathing it back to flame.

But fate—or whoever was playing puppeteer—wasn’t done with him.

It was a Wednesday afternoon when he found it. Same paper. Same ink. Same neat, mocking words. No stamp, no return name. It was waiting for him on the seat of the staff break room chair this time—like a cat dropping a dead mouse right where he’d have to look.

“What do you know about your parents, Hansol?”

Just that.

He read it once. Twice. He didn’t realize how hard his knuckles had clenched until the thin paper began to tear at the fold.

Hansol scanned the empty break room. The cracked kettle. The cheap instant coffee. The tiny window rattled with winter wind. He shoved the envelope deep in his coat pocket, heart pounding. The hum of dusty fluorescent lights suddenly sounded like whispers above his head.

He pressed a palm to his mouth, forcing his pulse to calm. Then he stepped out, forcing a bland smile at the old woman asking about folk tales, guiding her kindly to aisle four.

But inside him, Vernon the hitman sharpened his knives again. Whoever they were, they weren’t playing for fun. And if they knew how to push him—

They knew how to reach you, too.

He finished his shift with the same careful face, every muscle tight as wire beneath his skin. As closing time came, he replayed the single question over and over,

What do you know about your parents, Hansol?

What did he know?

The next day, Hansol pushed open the library door, the faint creak cutting through the hush of rain tapping on the old windows. He shook off his damp hood, eyes adjusting to the dim aisle of shelves—then froze.

A man in a dark suit, sleeves immaculate, hair slicked back like he owned every step he’d ever taken. He stood casually at Hansol’s work desk, setting down a thin envelope right on top of Hansol’s old philosophy book—like he’d done it a thousand times before.

The man didn’t flinch when Hansol entered. Instead, he turned, slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Arrogant. Inviting.

Hansol’s eyes flicked to the envelope—To: Choi Hansol scrawled in tidy block letters—and back to the stranger’s face.

“Choi Hansol,” the man drawled, voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. “Finally, we meet properly.”

Hansol let the door close behind him. He flicked the lock shut with a click that echoed through the empty library.

“Cute trick,” Hansol said, rolling his shoulders back, hands loose at his sides. “You think paper scares me?”

The man’s grin widened. “No. But truth does.”

They stared at each other—two animals testing the cage. Rain pattered the windows, the only witness.

Hansol’s smile turned feral. “Last chance. Who sent you?”

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped forward—and Hansol’s body moved before his mind caught up.

The first punch came fast, the stranger’s fist grazing Hansol’s jaw. He twisted with it, absorbed the pain, then slammed his elbow into the man’s ribs. Wood creaked under their boots as they crashed into a shelf—books thudded to the floor like muffled applause.

The man swung again—Hansol ducked, caught him by the coat lapel, and drove him backward into the stacks. Shelves rattled. A dictionary split open at their feet.

“You think you know me?” Hansol snarled through clenched teeth, knuckles burying into the man’s stomach—once, twice—each hit a wordless curse for every envelope, every lie.

The man wheezed but laughed through bloodied lips. “Oh, I know you, Vernon. Or should I say—Hansol.”

Hansol grabbed a fistful of hair, yanked the man’s head back, eyes burning. “Keep talking.”

The man’s grin was red now, teeth stained. “I’m just the first. You want your past—fight for it.”

Hansol’s vision tunneled—red, white, then cold clarity. He slammed the man against the window so hard it rattled in its frame.

“Say that again,” Hansol growled, voice a blade of ice.

“You were adopted before your training…” the man hissed, spit and blood flecking his grin, “but life brings you back again, doesn’t it? Funny, ain’t it?”

Hansol’s knee drove up into his gut, cutting off the words in a choking gasp. He didn’t let him crumple—he hauled him back up by the collar, nose to nose.

“I’m free enough to bury you here if you don’t start making sense.”

The man choked on a laugh, then spit blood at Hansol’s boot. “They want you back. All of you. The old ghosts—they’re not done—”

Hansol felt it—a shift in muscle. He dropped instinctively just as the man swung the hidden knife, steel singing past his ear.

Hansol caught the wrist mid-swing, twisted—crack—the knife clattered to the floor. With a roar born of every lie he’d ever swallowed, Hansol drove the man back into the shelves, books exploding around them.

When it was done, the man lay half-buried under an avalanche of hardcovers, groaning, one arm bent at a sick angle.

Hansol’s chest heaved, blood dripping from the shallow slice on his forearm. He stared at the man—this messenger, this threat wrapped in a suit—and saw no more answers in him than in those cursed envelopes.

Quietly, almost gently, Hansol crouched, fisted a handful of the man’s shirt, and hissed against his ear,

“Tell your puppets I’m done running. They want me? They can come themselves.”

Hansol stood at the doorway for a beat, the envelope heavy in his hand, before stepping into Seokmin’s room. The floor creaked under his weight, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even knock. The door swung open with the kind of casual finality that made Seokmin’s head snap up from his seat by the window.

“Hansol?” he blinked, caught off guard. “What’s going on?”

He immediately noticed the tension radiating off Hansol’s frame—his shallow breaths, the twitch in his jaw. But what Seokmin didn’t see, at least not yet, was the faint purpling bruise hidden at the corner of Hansol’s mouth.

Hansol didn’t answer at first. He simply walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. Then he held up the envelope—creased, slightly blood-smeared at the edge from a cut across his knuckle.

Seokmin’s brows drew together. “What’s that?”

Hansol didn’t speak. He pulled out the photograph, unfolded it carefully, as if it might explode in his hand.

There, frozen in grainy color, were three couples. Young. Dressed in uniform. All smiling like the world hadn’t yet asked them to die for it.

He pointed to the couple in the middle. “These are my parents.”

Seokmin leaned forward, squinting. His expression faltered—recognition flickering like static in his gaze.

Hansol pulled out another sheet—documents with the stamp and insignia he’d seen before.

GwFH-01. National Intelligence. Strategic Human Asset Division. Special Forces.

Two other names were highlighted beneath his parents: Jung and Lee.

Hansol didn’t need to ask.

“How did your parents die?” he asked quietly, too quietly.

Seokmin flinched. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer me.”

“I was six.” Seokmin’s voice turned sharp. “Why does it matter?”

“Mine died in a car crash,” Hansol said, stepping closer, eyes dark. “Off a beach highway. No other vehicle. I woke up in the hospital with a concussion and no parents. They told me it was an accident. That I was lucky. Then I was sent to Gwangju Foster Home.”

Seokmin’s blood drained from his face. “You… you too?”

Hansol gave a mirthless smile, paper trembling slightly between his fingers. “They planned to move me into the same program. GwFH-02. I was supposed to be trained alongside you. And her.”

He didn’t need to say your name.

Seokmin slowly stood up. “How… how do you know about the project name?”

Hansol let the envelope fall to the floor, his voice a low growl.

“Because someone sent me this. With all the information about our past and our parents.”

Seokmin stared at the document, then back at Hansol—expression somewhere between horror and disbelief.

Seokmin stood still, barely blinking, as Hansol’s words settled in the space between them like ash.

Hansol ran a hand through his hair, fingers trembling with something between rage and disbelief. Then, in a quiet voice too steady for the fire burning in his chest, he spoke again.

“They offered me a deal,” he said.

Hansol looked up at him, and something about the hollowness in his gaze made Seokmin take a step back.

“They want me to kill you,” Hansol said, then paused—his throat dry. “And her.”

Seokmin’s jaw tightened. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” Hansol exhaled slowly, forcing the venom out with the air. “They said if I did it—if I ended what’s left of GwFH-02—I’d be rewarded. Recruited as a mentor for the next batch.”

Seokmin’s fists clenched at his sides. “So that’s their plan now? Make you their new monster?”

Hansol gave a dry, hollow laugh. “That’s always been the plan, Seokmin. We’re not people to them. We’re blueprints. Test groups. And our parents too.”

He took a step forward, the fire in his voice rising. “I’m telling you, these people—they’re not just corrupt. They’re evil. And there’s no safe space for us. Not here. Not in China. Not anywhere.”

Seokmin’s chest rose and fell, his pulse thundering in his ears. “Why are you telling me this?”

Hansol’s answer came without hesitation.

“Because I’m not going to do it. I couldn’t kill her even when I didn’t know the truth. And I’m sure as hell not killing the only people left who know what we went through.”

The silence that followed was thick with something unspoken—shared trauma, trust half-formed, a desperate need to believe they weren’t truly alone in this fight.

Hansol turned to the door. “We need to get ahead of this.”

Seokmin’s voice stopped him. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Hansol shook his head. “Not yet.”

The small dining table creaked as you set down the last plastic container, the steam curling up between you in lazy ribbons. You dropped the chopsticks beside the plates with a sigh, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I accept no complaints,” you declared, flopping into the chair opposite Hansol. “Because these are made by Minghao and I’m too tired to fix the taste.”

Seokmin chuckled, but there was a twitch in the corner of his mouth—something uneasy. “Oh no, Minghao’s food is sacred. Wouldn’t dare.”

Hansol gave a half-smile, eyes lowered as he opened a container of mapo tofu. “Wouldn’t dream of criticizing the chef. Especially not when she has a kitchen knife collection bigger than mine.”

You smirked and pointed your chopsticks at him. “Damn right. Eat fast. There’s a war tomorrow.”

The table fell into a comfortable rhythm—quiet chewing, the soft clink of chopsticks against ceramic. But you weren’t stupid.

You noticed the glances.

Quick ones. Fleeting. The kind that carried meaning.

Between Hansol and Seokmin.

You caught one exchange mid-bite and raised a brow. “Okay. What’s with the looks? Did one of you break something? Or are you two communicating telepathically now?”

Seokmin coughed into his tea, looking away. Hansol, ever the calmer liar, shrugged and shoveled more rice into his mouth.

“Nothing,” he said. Too quickly.

You leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes. “I may be tired, but I’m not blind.”

“Really, it’s nothing,” Seokmin added, trying to sound casual. “Just something… we were talking about earlier.”

“Uh-huh.”

You let the moment go—for now. But you saw the way Hansol’s chopsticks paused mid-air when you looked at him a little too long. The way his eyes didn’t quite meet yours when you smiled.

Something was unraveling. You could feel it.

But you were too tired to tug the thread tonight.

So instead, you ate your dumplings in silence.

And Hansol, across from you, forced himself to do the same—while the truth burned a hole through the lining of his gut.

Then, the floor trembled.

It was so slight you almost mistook it for a passing truck—but Seokmin’s head snapped up. Hansol froze mid-bite. The silence that followed was loud. Too loud.

Then—

BOOM.

The window nearest the kitchen exploded inward, shards of glass raining across the tile like ice shrapnel. You didn’t scream—you couldn’t. Instinct slammed into your chest like a switch flipped on.

Hansol was already on his feet, toppling the table to its side just as bullets ripped through the dining room wall.

“Go! Go!” he shouted, grabbing you by the elbow.

Seokmin was behind the pantry door in seconds, yanking it open to reveal the hidden trapdoor beneath. A storage crawlspace that, to most, looked like a forgotten floorboard—inside it: three duffel bags, one metal crate, and enough weaponry to start a riot.

You dove in, heart in your throat, hands moving without thought. Seokmin tossed you your pistol while grabbing the loaded AR.

Hansol pulled out his favorite — compact, silenced, perfect for indoor retaliation.

“We’re boxed in,” he growled, listening as footsteps approached the front porch.

You popped the mag, checked the rounds, slammed it back in. “I haven't touched the dumpling!”

Hansol met your eyes, and even through the rising smoke, there was something calm there. Cold. Focused.

“You take back. Seokmin, right. I’ll hold center.”

You nodded, breath short.

The door blew open before you moved.

Black figures poured in, tactical gear and masks, rifles drawn. You rolled behind the broken couch as Hansol fired first, two clean shots dropping the first man to enter. Another tried to flank, but Seokmin was already sweeping the hallway with ruthless precision.

The war was today.

“They’re still tailing?” Seokmin’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, eyes cutting between the dark road ahead and the side mirror as the ruined town faded behind them.

Hansol, in the passenger seat, didn’t answer right away. His jaw was tight, his bruised lip cracked open again, the taste of blood metallic on his tongue. He’d seen it coming—just not this fast.

You sat in the middle of the backseat, hair messy, a cut just above your brow, chest still rising and falling too quickly from the ambush. Your voice cut through the suffocating silence.

“Somebody want to tell me what the hell just happened?”

Seokmin didn’t respond, not right away. His glance toward the rear view was brief but loaded—then toward Hansol, who exhaled sharply. The weight of the truth finally became too heavy to dodge.

“We’re running again,” Hansol said, voice low and cold. “They found us.” he turned to you.

Your blood ran cold. “What?”

Hansol shifted in his seat, facing forward again. The light from passing road lamps flickered across his bruised features, casting shadows like ghosts over the truth he was about to release.

“I got a message,” he began, voice rough. “Anonymous. At first, just words. Then photos. Then files. Things no one else could’ve known—not unless they were part of it.”

You leaned forward slightly, hands braced on the back of his seat, your breath still uneven.

“What kind of files?”

Hansol’s jaw clenched. “A project name. GWFH-03. My parents’ names… with red stamps across their profiles. Deceased. Labeled ‘eliminated.’ Then yours. Seokmin’s. GwFH projects. Both still marked active. That’s how I knew. We weren’t just orphans. We were curated.”

Seokmin’s hands tightened even further on the wheel, veins bulging beneath his skin. His mouth was shut tight, but his eyes—through the rearview—were locked on Hansol.

“They staged our parents’ accident,” Hansol continued, a cold edge in his voice now. “Said it was a rainy cliffside crash. I remembered the ocean. The blood. But I never questioned why I survived. Why I had no relatives, no trail to follow. They wiped it all.”

He paused, hand drifting to the envelope wedged in his coat pocket, thumb brushing its frayed corner.

“I was supposed to be part of GwFH-02. But I got intercepted. Someone else got to me first. A hitman. He took me. Raised me.”

You inhaled sharply, not daring to interrupt.

“He trained me to kill, but not for them. For his own reasons. Which means—” Hansol looked over his shoulder at you again, eyes now burning with clarity, “—I was the only one from the project who slipped through the cracks.”

Seokmin finally spoke, voice low and stunned. “You’re telling me… you were supposed to be one of us. But someone stole you from the system?”

Hansol gave a grim nod. “And now they want to pull me back in. Not as an agent—” he scoffed, bitter— “as a mentor. They offered me the job. Said if I did one thing—eliminate both of you—they’d let me in.”

Your blood turned to ice.

He turned fully now, his body tense, eyes unreadable. “And I didn’t. Because you’re the only people I’ve ever really had. And I’m done being someone’s weapon.”

Silence stretched, tense and uncertain. The hum of tires on the highway underscored the weight between you all. Seokmin didn’t say a word.

You slowly leaned back, your hand unconsciously brushing the healing cut on your brow. When you finally spoke, your voice was softer than before.

“So now what?”

Hansol looked ahead, eyes narrowing as the black road carved deeper into the unknown.

The car rolled through the backroads of Gyeonggi-do under a gray, tired sky. The silence inside was heavier than the fog outside — thicker than the tension Seokmin wore on his face after leaving Seungcheol’s place.

He was gripping the steering wheel like it owed him an answer. Hansol, next to him, kept an eye on the side mirrors, his gun tucked at his hip, resting but never forgotten. You sat in the back, hoodie up, headphones in, not listening to anything — just needing the quiet, just needing space.

“He’s scared,” Seokmin muttered finally, voice gravel-thin. “Can’t blame him. Regional office or not, helping us puts a target on his entire department.”

Hansol exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We didn’t ask him to burn the building down. Just help validate the evidence. Point a press contact. Something.”

You leaned forward, unplugging the dead headphones. “He didn’t even look at us after the video.”

The video.

It had been live for forty-eight hours.

Posted under an anonymous name, with no edits, no filters, no masks.

GwFH: NIS Strategic Human Assets Division

— a title dry enough to sound like nothing, but heavy enough to break the country apart.

The video opened with old footage—news clips of three seemingly unrelated car accidents over decades ago. One in Incheon, one in Busan, one on the coast near Mokpo. Each accident had no surviving adult. But each had one child.

Each child ended up in the same foster home.

Gwangju Foster Home.

And then came the interviews.

You and Seokmin—on camera, faces shown, voices steady—speaking of the drills. The beatings. The surveillance. The drugs. The way they turned a trauma-bonded family into machines.

Hansol was last to speak, and his voice cracked mid-way through his segment when he said:

“This wasn’t fate. This was designed. Curated. Our lives were manufactured in grief so they could be sharpened into weapons. Even our parents—agents of GwFH-01—were removed to clear the path. And now it’s happening again. A new project. A new batch. This video is a last stand.”

The public reaction? Loud. Divided. Explosive.

Some cried conspiracy. Others saw the truth too clearly.

But the NIS?

They responded with silence.

And then with shadows.

“This is not over,” you muttered as you checked your phone, notifications coming in too fast to process. “Our faces are out. Our story is viral. And that bastard—Kim Jong-il—is finally being pulled out of his nest.”

Seokmin snorted humorlessly. “He won’t go down easy. If we don’t finish this, he’ll erase us before morning.”

Hansol’s voice was calm. Too calm.

“Then we don’t give him until morning.”

You all went quiet for a beat.

The apartment Mingyu rented under a fake name was hidden between a bookstore and a defunct bar in the maze of Mapo’s older alleyways. From the outside, it looked like nothing—just another sun-bleached door and a flickering hallway light. But inside, it was wired.

A monitor lit the room with a sickly glow. Phones, routers, portable hard drives, and at least two stolen signal jammers littered the floor. Mingyu had always been reckless in a way that worked. Chaotic, loyal, and brilliant.

“You’re late,” he said the moment you walked in, without looking up.

Hansol shut the door and immediately went to the window to check the alley again. Seokmin dropped into the nearest chair, wincing from a healing wound on his side, bandaged fresh the night before.

You stepped closer to the table, where Mingyu tapped his fingers against a keyboard with one hand and held a half-eaten gimbap with the other.

“Is the journalist in?” you asked.

Mingyu didn’t answer for a moment, too focused on encrypting the newest drive you handed him. Then he said, “Yeah. They’re in. Got connections at JTBC, but I told them to go independent first. We don’t need censors this early.”

“Do they believe us?”

He shrugged. “You’re trending in five countries. Half of Seoul wants you canonized, the other half thinks you’re traitors. But the journalist? She believes you. And she’s mad.”

You raised a brow.

Mingyu finally looked up at you and grinned.

“She’s an orphan too. Grew up in a similar home, though not military-grade. She’s running this piece like it’s war. Asked if she could meet you before the next release.”

Hansol moved closer to the table, his jaw clenched but his voice even. “It’s not safe.”

“No shit,” Mingyu said, standing. “That’s why we’re doing it my way.”

He stepped into the back room and came out with three burner phones and a bag of wires.

“We’re splitting the next part into three clips. One with the black site locations. One with a live audio recording from the last year’s training session—courtesy of our boy Seokmin—” he pointed with his gimbap, “—and one video that Seokmin gave me. From Gwangju.”

Seokmin stiffened.

You blinked. “Wait—what video?”

Mingyu’s expression sobered. “The basement tapes. From the home. Footage of the injections. The training drills. The... the punishments.”

A cold swept through the room. Hansol stopped breathing.

“How did you—” you tried to ask.

“I’ve been saving them,” Mingyu interrupted, softly. “Back when you and Seokmin disappeared. I knew someday... someday you'd need to burn it all down.”

Silence.

Then Hansol said, voice tight: “When’s the journalist meeting us?”

Mingyu looked up at the clock. “Tonight. 2 a.m. On the bridge near Dongjak station. Quiet place. Just one hour.”

You nodded, eyes meeting Hansol’s.

“Then let’s make sure we survive until 2 a.m.”

The wind under Dongjak Bridge was sharp at this hour. It bit through your coat like truth cutting through the fog of lies you’d lived in. The journalist, Lee Haeun, sat across from you on the concrete step, recorder set between you both. Her eyes were steady. Angry. Hungry for justice.

You'd been speaking for thirty minutes—laying it all bare. The indoctrination. The surgeries. The names they made you forget and the pain they taught you to carry like a medal. Seokmin sat not far, eyes scanning the dark river. Hansol was on edge, pacing in small loops like a panther caged by memory. Mingyu leaned against the support beam, trying to look casual, but you could tell by the way he tapped his lighter that he was counting heartbeats.

Then Hansol stopped walking.

His gaze fixed on the road above.

The sound came next. Tires.

Five cars.

Black. Silent. Boxed in.

You saw it in Hansol’s face first. A twitch of the eye. A barely there nod to Seokmin, who immediately slid his hand under his coat. Mingyu tensed, already moving toward Haeun.

The journalist didn’t stop recording. Not yet.

Hansol spoke first. “We’re boxed.”

You grabbed the journalist’s wrist, fingers firm. “Stay close. Don’t run. Do you understand me?”

She looked like she might argue, but something in your eyes stopped her.

Seokmin murmured, “Two exits. Gone. We fight or disappear.”

“No disappearing,” Hansol said, his tone edged in finality. “We end this tonight.”

From the nearest car, the back door opened.

Boots hit pavement. And then you saw him. Kim Jong-il. The head of the division. He wasn’t wearing a suit anymore. He didn’t need to. Power wrapped itself around him like smoke. But something in his face was... worn. Maybe it was age. Maybe it was guilt. Or maybe it was just arrogance finally curdling into fear.

“You’ve caused quite the storm,” he said casually as he stepped into the circle of weak orange light. “I figured you’d go underground. Instead, you go viral. Cute.”

You pushed the journalist behind you, slowly drawing your gun and letting the barrel rest against your thigh, low and ready.

Hansol spoke without emotion. “We told the truth. That’s all.”

Kim smiled. “Truth, huh? You think people care about truth? They want stories. Villains. Redemption arcs. You gave them a fairy tale. But fairy tales end.”

You took a step forward. “So do tyrannies.”

He tilted his head, mocking. “Still the mouth on you, Agent Jung.”

The air thickened.

Behind Kim, a small unit of armed men formed a half-circle. Not uniforms. But you recognized the way they stood. The way they breathed.

They were raised like you.

The next thing, the gunshot cracked through the plaza—sharp, violent, and unmistakable.

Seokmin jerked violently, his body folding mid-step as the bullet struck him high in the chest. He hit the pavement with a dull, sickening thud, limbs tangled beneath him.

“Seokmin!” you shouted, instinct kicking in as your hand reached for your weapon— But too late.

The second shot found you.

It slammed into your torso like a battering ram, sending you sprawling backward. The world tilted, your lungs seized, and for a split second, all you could hear was the roar of your own heartbeat. It wasn’t pain—it was pressure. Blunt force trauma. You crashed to your knees, hands scrambling for balance as air fled your lungs.

Hansol was there before your body hit the concrete. He caught you, arms strong around your waist, dragging you behind the low wall that lined the plaza’s garden. His heart thundered against your shoulder. He pressed his hand to your side, fingers checking for wetness, for blood.

Nothing.

His chest rose sharply. “The vest,” he muttered, voice strained with disbelief.

You barely managed a nod, coughing as you tried to find your breath. “Vest,” you rasped.

Hansol gave a tight, humorless chuckle, more relief than mirth. “Yeah. No kidding.”

Across the lot, Seokmin groaned and rolled onto his side, spitting blood but still alive. The bullet had knocked him down—but hadn’t punched through. The Kevlar held. He lifted one arm with effort, giving a thumbs-up like a man half-drunk on adrenaline.

The plaza had erupted in chaos. Civilians scattered—some screaming, others frozen in shock. But one person didn’t move.

Kim Jong-il.

He stood where he had fired the shots, pistol still smoking in his hand, unmoved by the wreckage he caused. His face was blank—eerily calm, like pulling the trigger had been as routine as breathing.

The journalist was frozen behind her camera, lips trembling but hands steady. Mingyu yanked her behind a pillar, hissing, “Keep filming. Don’t stop. You stop, we die.”

Your pulse thundered. Your limbs trembled as you pushed yourself up from the ground, Hansol’s hand still steadying you. You emerged from cover, chest heaving, eyes locked on the man who had spent years turning children into weapons—then discarding them like broken tools.

Hansol stood at your side, weapon still drawn but held low. His eyes never left Kim.

Kim raised his voice, calm and calculated. “Turn off the camera,” he ordered, gesturing toward the journalist.

Mingyu stepped out from behind the pillar, defiant. “No.”

Kim’s expression flickered—only slightly. His voice dropped low, meant only for you. “You’re making a mistake.”

Your reply was ice. “We made that mistake when we didn’t put a bullet in you sooner.”

And then the sirens came.

Fast. Loud. Unmistakable.

Unmarked black sedans skidded to a halt on either side of the plaza. Riot vans flanked the street entrance. Doors flew open and uniformed officers, one of them was Choi Seungcheol, spilled out like water from a burst dam—tactical gear on, rifles raised, shouts tearing through the tension.

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

You didn’t move.

Hansol turned to you, silently asking. You nodded once, steady despite the pounding in your ears. His gun hit the pavement with a sharp clatter.

Kim didn’t resist. He turned, slowly, his fingers lifting in surrender. But Hansol saw it—the micro-expression. The twitch in his mouth. The smallest crack in the mask.

He knew.

It was over.

Hands raised, Kim opened his mouth—but no words came.

There was nothing left to say.

Hansol felt the tension drain from his muscles like a fever breaking. Cold sweat coated his back. His knees ached from crouching. His arms ached from holding you, like if he let go, the truth might disappear.

From the ground, Seokmin lifted a shaky arm and waved. “Just so we’re clear…” he coughed, “we’re the good guys.”

Laughter nearly broke from your throat—frayed, raw, and unhinged.

Hansol turned to you, his hand brushing your back without thinking.

You leaned into him—burned out, sore, aching in places you hadn’t even noticed were wounded. But alive.

Above you, the camera was still rolling. The world watching. And for the first time in years… you were no longer running.

You were fighting back.

The hall buzzed with the low hum of conversation, camera shutters, and rustling pages. Banners flanked the stage, displaying the matte-black cover of “GwFH: No Escape”—Seokmin’s book that had taken the country by storm.

The subtitle was small but powerful: A Survivor’s Chronicle of the NIS Strategic Human Assets Project.

Now reformed and forced under constant government supervision, the NIS had become a symbol of accountability. And much of that began with the three of you.

Seokmin sat behind the table, signature pen clicking between his fingers, face lit with a smile that never once dimmed. His hand moved fast—signing book after book, sometimes with short notes, sometimes with a high five, a nod, or a joke.

He had become that guy. The one people wanted to talk to. Not just because he’d survived something unthinkable—but because he’d turned that survival into purpose.

Seokmin now wrote full-time. His books were hybrids of memory and method—insights into criminal profiling, the dark logic of systemized violence, and how institutions manipulate trauma for control. Part memoir, part analytical guide, his writing didn’t just educate—it warned.

And today, he was beaming.

Then his gaze caught a small figure in line—a little girl bouncing on her mother’s hip, waving her book up and down with uncontainable glee.

“June!” Seokmin called out, straightening in his chair. “You came to see me?”

June, now three, squealed. “UNCLE SEOKKIE!” Her voice was loud enough to make the woman behind you laugh as you stepped forward.

“You came alone?” Seokmin asked with a knowing smile. “Hansol still lecturing today?”

You nodded, hitching June up higher on your hip. “He got cadets running obstacle courses until sunset. He’ll join later.”

Seokmin reached out, and June practically dove into his arms.

“She missed her favorite uncle,” you said with a smirk, watching your daughter snuggle into his chest.

“Really? I missed you too, baby June.” He kissed her temple. “Let’s get dinner tonight. My treat. Ice cream after. Don’t tell your dad.”

“She’s already spoiled,” you laughed.

And you meant it. June was raised not in fear, but in healing. By people who had once seen the worst the world had to offer—and chose to fight for better.

Hansol—Vernon, as he finally went by publicly—had built a small academy on the outskirts of Seoul. Mostly, it was training for students preparing to enter the police or military academies, a program that emphasized not just physical defense, but critical thinking, trauma management, and ethics.

He never talked about the past unless asked. But every lesson he taught carried the weight of what he’d lived through.

You had returned to your roots—quietly consulting, occasionally teaching, and now… raising a child in peace.

A year after the fall of Kim Jong-il, after the footage, the trials, and the national apology—you and Hansol stood in a tiny mountaintop registry office, exchanging rings with only Seokmin and Mingyu as witnesses.

There were no fireworks. Just promises.

And now, here you were—watching Seokmin hold your daughter, a copy of his story in one hand, a hopeful glint in his eye.

You’d run far. Fought hard.

The world had stopped spinning.

Or maybe… it just slowed down long enough for you to catch your breath.

It was a small night, months after the trials, after the streaming, after the names and faces were exposed to the public and the machine that nearly swallowed you all was forced into the light.

You and Hansol were sitting on the rooftop of your temporary safe house in Busan. A blanket draped over both your shoulders, the sea wind brushing your skin, the stars above you hazy from city lights but still visible if you looked hard enough.

He was beside you, legs stretched out, hands warm around a chipped mug of tea. Quiet. A rare kind of quiet that didn’t feel like tension—it felt like peace finally had a seat at the table.

You glanced at him. His profile soft in the moonlight, lashes low, jaw relaxed. And still, you could feel it.

Something held in. Something waiting.

“What?” you asked gently, nudging him with your knee.

He didn’t answer right away. Just set the mug down, the ceramic clinking against concrete.

Then he looked at you.

Really looked.

He drew in a breath, like he needed to summon it from somewhere deeper than lungs.

“I’m Hansol,” he said. “Choi Hansol.”

Your eyes didn’t widen—but your chest tightened in the way it does when you’ve been waiting for something you didn’t realize mattered this much.

“I figured,” you murmured. “Somehow.”

His lips quirked—barely a smile, more like the release of a held breath. “I wanted you to know before anyone else did. Before the world labels me again.”

“Why now?” you asked, searching his expression.

Hansol leaned closer, resting his arm behind you, thumb brushing the edge of the blanket.

“Because the only name that ever felt like mine… was the one I didn’t have to hide when I was with you.”

Your fingers found his, slow and certain. “Choi Hansol,” you repeated softly.

He nodded.

And then you kissed him—not like a first kiss, not like a goodbye kiss—but the kind that seals something. Like truth. Like beginnings.

That night, you fell asleep on that rooftop, cheek against his chest, name whispered between heartbeats.

Choi Hansol.

No more running. No more hiding. Just him. Finally, a safe place.

Your safe place.

The End.

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kwilquib · 6 months ago

Text

Pojangmacha

(if your unfamiliar with the word, its the red bar tent you often see on streets of South Korea).

Minnie X Male Reader (Yunjae) ft. Park Jiwon (Fromis_9)

Word Count: 18k+

Notes:

This is my first Fic, any feedback is appreciated :)

If you're expecting Jiwon smut, I'm sorry there's none, I just really need a reason for Minnie's insecurity

just for additional context, the second pojangmacha scene happened around during G-idle's haitus.

I used the name Yunjae because i didn't like the "y/n" format actual name feels more immersive. I picke the name Yunjae randomly though

You swirled your soju glass in silence, staring at the swirling liquid like it held answers to questions you couldn’t ask.

“Yunjae,” Jiwon’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft but pointed. “You’re killing yourself like this.”

You laqughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Am I? Feels more like I’m just surviving.”

“Same thing,” she shot back, leaning closer. “You’re stuck, Yunjae. You’ve been stuck for years. It’s like you’re waiting for something to change when you’re the one who won’t move.”

Her words cut close to the bone. You wanted to argue, to deflect, but what was the point? She was right, and you both knew it.

“It’s not that simple,” you muttered, your eyes dropping to the faint gleam of your wedding ring.

Jiwon’s gaze followed yours, and her lips tightened into a line. She never said it outright, but the ring was always the elephant in the room.

“Why do you stay?” she asked quietly, her tone softer now. “If it’s really this hard—if she doesn’t even care anymore—then why?”

You looked up sharply. “You don’t know that,” you said, more defensively than you intended.

Her brows arched, her disbelief evident. “Oh, really? When was the last time you two actually talked? And I don’t mean the polite, ‘pass the salt’ kind of talk. I mean really talked.”

You didn’t answer, because you couldn’t.

Jiwon leaned back with a sigh, her frustration bleeding through. “Yunjae, you’re wasting your life waiting for something that’s never going to happen. You’re loyal to a fault, I get that, but maybe it’s time to let go.

"Four years," you muttered, swirling the last remnants of soju in your glass. "Four years since we said, 'I do.' And what do I have to show for it?" Your laugh came bitter, tinged with self-loathing. "We don’t even talk anymore."

Jiwon's expression softened. She reached across the table, her hand resting lightly on yours. "You've said that before, Yunjae. Let's call it a night."

"I just don't get it..." you continued, your voice tinged with confusion, ignoring Jiwon's request for now. "We had our reasons, sure—convenience, mutual benefits. But maybe I expected more. At the very least, I thought we could remain friends, not this distant... this nothingness."

You sighed, frustration building inside you like a tidal wave. You grabbed the Soju bottle and poured its contents into your glass, emptying it in one swift motion. The liquid burned as it slid down your throat, the sensation both comforting and familiar.

Jiwon’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, her silence speaking volumes. She hesitated, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed she might voice the truth lingering between you. But instead, she looked away. "I don’t know either," she said softly. "If it were me…" Her voice trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

You furrowed your brow and locked your gaze on hers, the unspoken thoughts echoing in the empty space between you. You already knew what she meant—you were childhood friends who had lost contact but reconnected years later. In the time that had passed, her intentions had changed, and you sensed that she was well aware of your realization. The tension grew palpable as the truth hung there, waiting for a moment of honesty to break the silence.

The heavy silence pressed in on you, demanding acknowledgment. You knew you had to confront the elephant in the room, to end it once and for all, lest it lingered in doubt. "Jiwo-"

But Jiwon interjected before you could finish, her voice steady as she changed the subject, "Anyway, it's pretty late. We've been here since 7 PM, and it's almost midnight now."

You nodded, your heart heavy with the unsaid words between you. You straighten your sitting posture, gather yourself. “Right. You can go first, thank you for being here”

She hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I can’t leave you alone like this."

“I’ll be fine, I'll just stay here for a couple minutes to sober up, then I'll take the cab,” you explained. “Promise”.

A pang of frustration flickered across Jiwon's face, her sympathetic gaze lingering on your burdened spirit. She fidgeted with the strap of her purse, and you caught sight of a fleeting flush on her cheeks. It seemed as though she might have been embarrassed by whatever thoughts she harbored or the words she almost spoke, using your suggestion as an escape.

"Alright. Promise me you’ll go straight home." she sighed, her feigned surrender tinged with uncertainty as to where the two of you would stand in the aftermath of this night.

“I promise” you answered.

With a final glance, she stood and left, her figure disappearing into the night. Alone once more, you reached for the soju bottle, pouring what remained into your glass. The cold burn slid down your throat, offering little comfort.

Park Jiwon, she is an excellent friend, but her role in your life had remained firmly in the platonic realm. You couldn't see her romantically, and not being platonic with a friend is exactly how you found yourself in this situation in the first place. Plus there's another reason why you couldn't be with anybody else right now.

Your fingers toyed with a ring on your ring finger, the silver two strands intertwining like an infinity sign. A row of tiny diamonds adorned it, capturing light in their faceted depths. You lifted your hand, eyeing the ring as though presented with a cruel joke—how something so beautiful could symbolize the absence of light in your life.

The promise to Jiwon lingered, as did the knowledge that you should head home. Yet, you hesitated, aware that returning to your cold home on this day would only accentuate the issues plaguing you. In the back of your mind, a part of you yearned for a shred of hope, an irrational belief that perhaps something miraculous might transpire here. This bar had become a place of hope, however fleeting or destructive, from the reality awaiting you at home.

Your gaze lingered on the ring as memories began to resurface. Drowsiness crept in, pulling you into the haze of a dream. When you opened your eyes again, the scene hadn’t changed. The same table, the same empty glasses. But the person sitting across from you was no longer Jiwon.

—

"Ya!! Are you listening? I'm paying for the drinks, and you're ignoring me?" Minnie's voice jolted you. She sat opposite you, her sharp eyes narrowing in frustration. her chopsticks pointed at you like a weapon.

The sight of her stirred something in you—a pang of nostalgia, a mix of joy and regret. "But I’m paying for the meat," you retorted weakly, though she ignored you entirely, continuing her tirade.

She sighed dramatically, slapping the table for emphasis. "Can you believe my parents? My career is on the line, and they want me to just drop everything and go home to Thailand?" She let out an exasperated sigh, her words tumbling over each other.

Deciding to give her your full attention, lest her tirade be endless, you asked, "Can you tell me again why they wanted you back?"

Minnie hesitated, her face contorted with a mixture of confusion and irritation. "They said I've done enough; it's time to think long term, find myself a partner, a husband. That's their reason, at least," she explained.

She then continued murmuring under her breath, "I think they just want me to be married off to a royal bloodline so our family could get even closer to being Thai royalty."

Silence enveloped you both, acknowledging the gravity of her situation and your shared understanding that she desired nothing more than a sympathetic ear.

Minnie's frustration reached a crescendo as she let out a frustrated "Aggghhh!!"

You found yourself staring at her, the sight of her distress oddly endearing. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. you don't know when it started but at some point during your history of friendship, without realizing it, you were falling for your dear friend, Minnie. Afraid to jeopardize the relationship, you concealed these feelings deep within, unable to pinpoint one singular reason for your infatuation. It could have been her alluring smile, captivating personality, soulful gaze, lithe frame, or an intoxicating blend of all these traits.

Minnie's sharp eyes caught you in the act of smiling, "Ya!!" she teased, "Look at you smiling, it must be fun having a grandfather who's the opposite of my parents.".

"He's giving you all of his as an inheritance," Minnie remarked, her tone laced with indignation as she nibbled on the pork you had purchased. "I don't know why I'm paying for you when you're rich."

You corrected her gently, "Well... not yet."

Minnie started to question whether your grandfather was still alive, but you interrupted her. "I didn't mean it like that!" You realized you had raised your voice, yet Minnie appeared unfazed as she continued drinking from her beer mug.

When she signaled for you to continue, you explained, "I can't have the inheritance right now, and if I don't get married before turning 30, I might lose it." You paraphrased your grandfather's words: "I don't want all this wealth given to a house bum; you need to have at least a family.”

Minnie's arm remained in midair, her mouth hovering over the mug as she paused, processing the gravity of your situation. After what felt like an eternity, she gently set it down and fixed her gaze on you. Silence pervaded the table as she mulled over your words.

Finally breaking the silence, she said, "So you need to be married to get your inheritance?" Her eyes held a mix of concern and curiosity. You found yourself furrowing your brow, unsure where this revelation would lead.

"And my parents don't want me to continue with my career because..." She mimicked air quotes, "Think long term, find a good husband."

It was then that you noticed your fingers were entwined with the silver pair of rings hanging around your neck on a chain, their design intricate and familiar. An heirloom from your grandfather, their intricate design held meaning beyond just the gift itself. In this moment of realization, you knew where this conversation would eventually take you—back to a familiar crossroads, one you'd faced before, yet helplessly watched unfold.

"Why don’t we just get married?" Minnie proposed, the words hanging in the air like a question that demanded an answer.

You blinked, convinced you’d misheard her.

"What?"

"Let’s get married," Minnie said again, her tone firm. "Why not? We’re already close, we get along, It solves your problem, and mine. You can be my excuse for my parents not to worry, and you secure your inheritance like you said."

The scene felt eerily familiar yet disjointed from your reality, causing you to laugh nervously.

"Are you serious?" you asked, while laughing.

Minnie's tone turned sharp when she yelled, "Of course I’m serious." Her voice softened, the faintest hint of vulnerability slipping through her usual bravado.

"Unless marrying me is that funny to you?" Her distress at your laughter was apparent.

"No, it’s not that," you said quickly. It hit you then: she wasn't joking, despite the alcohol. Both of you were clear-headed and sober enough to be making this decision. "I just—"

"You’re insane," you said, trying to mask the way your chest tightened.

"Maybe," she admitted, her tone lighter now. She was already reaching for the grill, flipping pieces of meat with practiced ease. "But you can’t deny it makes sense."

Your heart twisted at the suggestion, an unfamiliar blend of hope and dread coursing through you. For years, you’d hidden your feelings for Minnie—feelings that had grown quietly, relentlessly, despite your best efforts to suppress them.

"Okay, If you're serious. You're suggesting a marriage of convenience, right?" You asked, seeking clarification even though the thought of Minnie proposing to you elicited an immediate, overwhelming 'yes.' However, you had to temper your enthusiasm given the pragmatic nature of her proposal. It wasn't love or a confession; it was an offer mutually beneficial for both of you.

Minnie looked surprised by your question, replying, "Yeah... Yeah, of course, marriage of convenience, what else could it be?"

Perfect. You almost laughed agian at the irony. For her, it was a convenient solution to a problem. For you, it was a chance to stay close to her in a way you’d never dared to hope for.

You reached out for her hand, and Minnie complied, placing her hand on the table. You took off the necklace—the pair of silver rings meant for your grandfather's heir. A hazy sense of déjà vu washed over you as you removed the rings from the chain. The air seemed thick with unspoken words, and you felt your chest constrict as if this scene had played out before. This weight pressed against your consciousness, but you couldn't discern why.

"This is an heirloom," you began. "My grandfather’s. If we’re going to do this… it has to be with these rings. We really have to get married, we can’t trick my grandfather" Your heart pounded as you extended the ring.

Minnie’s eyes widened slightly as you placed one of the rings in her hand. The moment felt surreal, yet inevitable, like you were playing out a scene you’d already lived.

For a moment, something flickered across her face—something soft, almost vulnerable. Then she smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re such a sentimental idiot,” she said, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

"Nicha Yontararak," you whispered, your voice steady despite the tremor in your chest. "Will you marry me?"

Her response came quickly, her lips curving into a small, almost shy smile. "Yes."

The dream fractured then, the edges dissolving as reality crashed back in. You woke up with a start, slumped over the table where the conversation had once unfolded. The bar was empty now, save for one figure standing over you. A cold metal brushed against your cheek—the ring finger of a hand, as if beckoning you.

"Yunjae," the voice said, familiar and unmistakable. You looked up to see Minnie, her face obscured by a cap and mask.

"Why?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question carried the weight of four years of silence. "Why did you say yes?"

Her expression was unreadable as the world around you faded to black.

–

Your eyes flickered open to reveal the interior of a car, the engine's low hum the only soundtrack to this moment. You turned your head toward the driver, the faint glow of city lights illuminating her form in a fleeting manner. As your vision cleared, you recognized Minnie behind the wheel. She was dressed in a sleek pink suit jacket with matching pants, her attire immaculately tailored to fit her figure. Beneath the jacket, a cropped top peeked through, adding a casual edge to her otherwise professional look.

Questions flooded your mind. How did she find you? Did she remember that place? And most importantly, does she know the significance of today's date?

Your gaze lingered on her outfit, and a thought struck you—she must have come straight from work. The slight crease in her sleeves and the faint traces of fatigue around her eyes hinted at a long day, but she carried herself with an air of determination. Whatever had brought her here, it was enough to pull her directly from her world and into yours.

Before you could fully explore these thoughts, Minnie spoke, "Jiwon called me. She told me you refused to go home." The answer felt like a slap, and you couldn't help but laugh at your own naivety. Of course, Jiwon had informed her.

Your gaze fell upon Minnie's hand resting on the steering wheel, the silver ring glinting. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you pondered the question: "Where did it all go wrong?" Your mind whirled with memories and regret, searching for answers to a past you couldn't change.

—

In the aftermath of your impromptu proposal in the pojangmacha, you and Minnie knew you had to convince your grandfather of your relationship's authenticity. To achieve this, you devised a plan that entailed showing affection publicly—holding hands, sharing stolen kisses, and spending time together.

You had fallen for Minnie well before this event, but enacting your love intensified these feelings. The line between your performance and genuine emotions blurred, as your heart yearned to reveal your true sentiments. Your unrequited love swelled with each passing moment that deepened your connection. You could only hope that your efforts would ignite the same burning desire in Minnie's heart.

Similarly, you had to convince Minnie's parents that you were indeed the ideal husband for their daughter. You showcased your commitment, respect, and dedication to making her happy. You took an active role in family gatherings, bonding with Minnie's siblings, and proving your worth as a son-in-law.

Once these obstacles were overcome, everything else seemed to happen at breakneck speed. Wedding plans came together swiftly; invitations were sent, venues booked, and the big day loomed closer. In the blur of excitement, you found yourself standing at the altar, about to exchange vows with Minnie. The transition from pojangmacha proposal to nuptials felt almost dreamlike—too quick to fully process.

The ceremony took place in a remote chapel far from unwanted attention. Pews were populated with guests that were thoroughly selected, aside from close family only few were invited.

As you stood before the altar, the chapel filled with the soft hum of anticipation, you could see her—Minnie—beginning her journey down the aisle. Through the delicate veil that framed her face, a smile bloomed, and even from this distance, it was impossible for you not to be entranced. With each measured step, she approached, each stride bringing you closer together.

Your eyes trailed over her dress, so resplendent and elegant, as she moved with the grace of a dancer. The sunlight filtering through the chapel's stained-glass windows bathed everything in an ethereal glow. Each hue, dancing and twirling across the floor, seemed to celebrate our union.

The air in the small, candle-lit altar was heavy with quiet reverence, the murmurs of a few close witnesses fading as the officiant began to speak. It was an intimate affair—just as they had planned. No grand celebrations, no sea of faces, only the people who mattered most.

You stood across from Minnie, your palms slightly damp as you held the delicate silver ring between your fingers. The ring’s intricate design seemed to weigh heavier in your hand than it should, its symbolism pressing on you more than you cared to admit.

Minnie, radiant in her understated elegance, met your gaze with that familiar mix of mischief and something else you couldn’t quite name. She looked calm, collected—but you knew her well enough to catch the flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

“This is it,” the officiant said, his voice steady. “The vows you exchange today will bind your hearts and lives together. Do you wish to proceed?”

You glanced at Minnie, searching her face for any sign of regret. She gave him the faintest of nods, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile.

You cleared your throat, your voice quiet but firm as you began.

“Minnie, I know we’re standing here today not for the reasons most couples do. We’ve always been practical, and this… this is no different. But I want you to know that I’ll honor this vow, not just as your husband, but as your friend.

I promise to be there when you need someone to lean on, to laugh with, and even to argue with when the mood strikes. I promise to keep our trust unbroken and to stand by you, no matter how complicated life gets.

This isn’t just a promise for today, but for every day after. Not out of duty, but because you’re someone I respect, someone I’ve always believed in. And if that’s the foundation of our marriage, then I think we’ll be alright.”

You made a commitment to yourself although some might consider this marriage as a fraud, to you at least you didn’t want your vow to be a lie.

Your voice softened as you slipped the ring onto her finger, your hand lingering a moment longer than necessary. For a second, you thought you saw her eyes glisten, but she blinked it away before it could fall.

Minnie took a small breath before she began, her tone steady but tinged with something deeper.

“Yunjae, you’ve always been the kind of person who sees things through—whether it’s fixing a broken coffee machine or helping me dodge my family’s relentless matchmaking.

Today, I stand here because I trust you. I trust that no matter what, you’ll keep your word.

I can’t promise that I’ll always be the easiest person to deal with, or that life will suddenly make sense because of this decision. But I can promise that I’ll try. I’ll try to be someone who doesn’t let you down, someone who holds up my end of this partnership.

And who knows?”—she allowed herself a small laugh—“Maybe we’ll surprise each other along the way.”

She slid the matching silver band onto his finger, her touch light but deliberate. For a fleeting moment, her fingers brushed against yours, and it felt like more than just an accident.

The officiant’s voice broke the silence that hung between them. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

You hesitated, not out of reluctance, but because the moment felt heavier than you had anticipated. You leaned forward slowly, your lips brushing hers in the lightest, briefest of touches—enough to be proper, yet leaving a quiet ache in its wake.

When the two of you pulled apart, Minnie’s eyes met yours again, and for the first time that day, her smile reached all the way to her eyes.

The witnesses applauded politely, and the ceremony moved on, but You couldn’t shake the lingering warmth of her lips or the quiet weight of her words.

For a marriage born out of convenience, the moment felt startlingly real.

—

The silence of the apartment was heavy, oppressive, and electric all at once. Every tick of the wall clock echoed like a heartbeat, a relentless reminder of the moment you now found yourself in. This wasn’t just any night. It was your wedding night.

Minnie lingered by the doorway, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to break the silence that stretched between you like a live wire, taut and humming with unspoken tension.

You leaned against the counter, your jacket slung over your arm, your tie loosened just enough to breathe. But breathing felt impossible now, every inhale shallow, every exhale trembling.

“It feels strange,” she said suddenly, her voice soft but slicing through the stillness like a blade.

You glanced at her, catching the way her eyes darted nervously around the room, avoiding yours. “What does?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

“This,” she said, gesturing weakly at the space around you. “Us. Here. Like this.”

You let out a dry laugh, more out of habit than amusement. “Yeah. It does.”

She moved further into the room, her steps slow and deliberate, as if she were testing the ground beneath her. Her hand trailed along the edge of the couch, her touch light but deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine. “I guess I should change,” she murmured, still not meeting your eyes.

You nodded automatically, your throat tight. “Yeah. Me too.”

You retreated to the guest room, the cool air brushing against your skin as you stripped off your wedding attire and slipped into the silky pajamas. The fabric clung to your body, soft and cool, but it did nothing to quell the heat simmering beneath your skin. When you returned to the living room, you collapsed onto the sofa, your mind racing.

A few moments later, you heard the soft click of a door opening. Your head turned instinctively, and there she was. Minnie. She stepped out from the bedroom, her long, black hair cascading over her shoulders like a midnight waterfall. The sight of her stole the breath from your lungs.

She wore a gown of white lace, the fabric sheer enough to hint at the curves beneath, yet modest enough to leave everything to your imagination. The delicate material clung to her body like a second skin, the neckline dipping just enough to reveal the faintest shadow of cleavage. A slit ran up one side, exposing the smooth expanse of her thigh, and your gaze lingered there, tracing the line of her leg with a hunger you couldn’t suppress.

The air between you grew thick, charged with something primal and undeniable. Your pulse quickened, a throbbing ache building low in your abdomen as your eyes roamed over her. The swell of her hips, the curve of her waist, the way the lace hugged her breasts—every detail was a temptation, a provocation.

She hesitated by the doorway, her hands fidgeting slightly, her lips parting as if she were about to speak but couldn’t find the words. Her eyes met yours, and in that instant, it was as though the world had stopped. The tension between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that neither of you could resist.

“Minnie…” you said, your voice rough, strained with desire.

Her gaze flickered to yours, holding it for a heartbeat before dropping to the floor. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You didn’t,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could think. “You’re not.”

She took a tentative step closer, her bare feet silent against the hardwood floor. The scent of her perfume—something floral and intoxicating—wafted toward you, filling your senses. “This is… different, isn’t it?” she said, her voice carrying a vulnerability that made your chest tighten.

You nodded slowly, your throat dry. “Yeah. It is.”

The space between you seemed to shrink with every step she took, the air growing heavier, hotter. Her eyes searched for yours, dark and unreadable, but there was something in them—a flicker of desire, of uncertainty, of need.

“Yunjae,” she began, your name trembling on her lips. “Do you think we should…?”

Your chest tightened, your heart pounding in your ears. You knew exactly what she was asking, even without the words to complete the thought. You leaned back against the counter, running a hand through your hair to buy yourself time.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice low and rough. “Do you want to?”

Her breath hitched, and you could see her struggling to find the answer. “I don’t know either,” she confessed, her honesty cutting through you like a knife. “This isn’t how I pictured…”

“Me neither,” you said quickly, desperate to ease her discomfort. “But here we are.”

The air between you crackled with something unspoken, something electric and terrifying all at once. You took a hesitant step closer, your pulse hammering in your ears. The heat of her body radiated toward you, and you could almost feel the warmth of her skin against yours.

“We don’t have to do anything we’re not ready for,” you said, your tone firm, though you weren’t sure if you were reassuring her or yourself.

She dropped her gaze, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her dress. “It’s not about being ready,” she said, her voice so soft you almost missed it. “It’s about what it would mean.”

“What do you think it would mean?” you asked, your throat tightening as you waited for her answer.

She lifted her eyes to meet yours, and the vulnerability there made your breath catch. “That this is real,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “That we’re not just pretending anymore.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Of course it was real—how could it not be? But hearing her say it, seeing the fear and hope mingled in her expression, made it feel all the more tangible.

“It is real,” you said, your voice rough. “But that doesn’t mean we have to rush anything.”

She took a step closer then, and you could feel the warmth of her presence, the gravity of her drawing you in. Her hand reached out, her fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

“Yunjae,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “what do you want?”

The question struck you like lightning, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you reached out, your hand hovering near her face before you finally let it rest against her cheek.

Her skin was soft, warm, and you could feel the faint tremor in her as she leaned into your touch. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you said, your voice raw with emotion.

“You won’t,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving yours.

Her breath was warm against your skin, her closeness intoxicating. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to close the gap, to let go of the restraint that had held you back for so long. Your other hand found her waist, the lace of her gown smooth beneath your fingertips, and you pulled her closer, your bodies almost touching.

Her lips parted, her breath hitching as your foreheads brushed together. The tension between you was unbearable, the air thick with desire and hesitation. You could feel the rapid beat of her heart, the way her body trembled against yours.

But just as you let yourself imagine it—just as you felt the pull to kiss her, to lose yourself in her—the sharp, jarring ring of your phone shattered the moment.

You froze, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. Minnie blinked, her eyes wide with surprise, and you reluctantly pulled away, your hand falling from her waist as you reached for your phone on the counter.

The screen lit up with the name “Grandfather.” You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the answer button, before glancing at Minnie. She took a step back, her arms wrapping around herself as if to shield herself from the sudden intrusion.

“You should get that,” she said softly, her voice tinged with both relief and disappointment.

You nodded, your chest tight as you answered the call. “Grandfather?”

“Yunjae,” his voice boomed through the phone, loud and commanding. “I just wanted to make sure you two made it home safely. How’s married life treating you so far?”

You forced a laugh, your eyes flickering to Minnie, who was now standing by the window, her back to you. “It’s… it’s good, Grandfather. We’re just settling in.”

“Good, good,” he said, his tone softening. “Take care of her, Yunjae. She’s a special one.”

“I will,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. Then, almost as an afterthought, your grandfather added, “Oh, and by the way, Jiwon just returned from overseas. She asked about you.”

The name hit you like a bolt of lightning. “Jiwon?” you repeated, louder than you intended, your voice carrying across the room.

Minnie turned sharply at the sound of the name, her eyes widening slightly. You could see the curiosity flicker across her face, though she quickly masked it, turning back toward the window.

“Yes, Jiwon,” your grandfather continued, oblivious to the tension his words had just created. “She’s back in town. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Right,” you said, your mind racing. “Thanks for letting me know, Grandfather.”

After a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set the phone down, the silence of the apartment pressing in on you once more. Minnie turned to face you, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp with questions she wasn’t asking.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice quiet but laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “Just my grandfather checking in. He, uh… mentioned that an old friend of mine is back in town.”

“Jiwon,” she said, her tone neutral but her gaze piercing. “I heard.”

You nodded, unsure of how much to say. “Yeah. We grew up together. She’s been overseas for a while.”

Minnie nodded slowly, her arms still wrapped around herself. “That’s… nice,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching yours, before turning toward the bedroom. “I think… I’m going to head to bed. It’s been a long day.”

You nodded, the ache in your chest intensifying. “Yeah. Of course.”

She hesitated at the doorway, her hand resting on the frame as if she wanted to say something more. But instead, she simply said, “Goodnight, Yunjae,” before disappearing into the bedroom.

The soft click of the door closing behind her felt like a finality, a punctuation mark on the night. You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. The weight of the day—and the night—pressed down on you, suffocating and inescapable. The memory of her body, her warmth, her scent, lingered in your mind, a tantalizing reminder of what could have been.

—

The memory lingered like a phantom, the weight of her warmth and scent still wrapped around you. Yunjae closed his eyes, trying to shake it off, but the pull of what could’ve been was stronger than he liked to admit.

The soft hum of the car engine brought him back, the rhythmic vibration beneath him grounding him in the present. His eyes fluttered open, the dim glow of passing street lights illuminating Minnie’s face, her features etched with a quiet tension.

“Why did you drink that much?” Minnie’s voice broke the silence, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You glanced at her from the passenger seat. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles pale, but her focus remained on the empty road ahead. The streetlights cast fleeting shadows across her face, accentuating the tension in her jaw.

“And why go all the way to that pojangmacha?” she continued, her voice steady but probing, cutting through the silence.

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. “I could ask you the same thing,” you finally muttered, leaning your head back against the seat.

She let out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s not an answer, Yunjae,” she said, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern.

You looked out the window, watching the world blur past in a haze of light and shadow. “I just… needed to clear my head,” you said after a moment, your tone low.

Minnie glanced at you briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “And drinking was the best way to do that?” she asked, her words sharper now.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Maybe,” you admitted. “I didn’t plan to drink that much. It just… happened.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but the silence between you was far from comfortable. The only sound was the soft hum of the engine and the occasional noise from the tires against the asphalt.

“Why?” she asked again, quieter this time. Her voice had lost its edge, replaced by something softer, something closer to worry. “What were you trying to forget?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. You swallowed hard, your mind flashing back to the memories that had surfaced earlier—the echoes of laughter, the warmth of shared moments, the way everything once felt so easy between you. Your relationship had been so bright back then, a beacon of connection and understanding. But now, the contrast was stark, almost painful, like a photograph faded with time.

“Nothing,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Minnie shook her head, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. “You’re terrible at lying,” she said, her tone a mix of exasperation and something else—something closer to sadness.

You didn’t respond, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. Instead, you turned your gaze back to the window, hoping the passing scenery would offer some kind of distraction.

…

The silence stretched, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Turning to her, you blurted out, “Why are we like this, Minnie?”

She froze, her fingers flexing against the wheel, her lips parting slightly as if she didn’t expect the question. Slowly, her voice leaves her mouth, as if she was hesitant. “What… do you mean?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

“This,” you gestured between the two of you, the frustration clear in your tone. “The silence, the distance. It wasn’t like this before. What happened to us?”

The silence in the car felt suffocating, your words hanging heavy between you both. Minnie’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles turning white. Her lips pressed together into a thin line as her gaze stayed locked on the empty road ahead. For a moment, you thought she wouldn’t respond.

But then her voice cut through the tense air, sharp and brittle. “You think I don’t wonder the same thing?” she shot back, her tone trembling just slightly at the edges.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head in frustration. “Then why don’t we talk about it? Why do we keep pretending like this is fine when it’s not?”

She glanced at you briefly, her eyes flashing with something between anger and pain. “What should we talk about, Yunjae? Should we just end this? Is that what you want?” Her words came fast now, a barrage of questions that hit you like punches, each one sharper than the last. “Sure, okay, why not? Let’s get divorced. That’s what you want, don’t you?”

Your chest tightened, the venom in her voice cutting deeper than you thought possible. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. For a moment, you just stared at her, stunned by her sudden outburst. The word “divorce” lingered in the air, harsh and unyielding.

And then it hit you—that question wasn’t entirely meant for you. The way her voice cracked, the way her eyes darted to the side for just a second—it was as though she was asking herself, questioning everything just as much as she was questioning you.

Memories of the past came rushing in, unbidden. Even before your marriage, she would jokingly throw out remarks about divorce whenever you two had playful arguments. Back then, it was just a bad joke, something you brushed off easily. But over time, as the relationship began to sour, the sarcasm faded from her tone, replaced by something heavier. Something real.

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, your nails digging into your palms as the realization settled in. It felt like a cruel irony, the weight of her words suffocating you. And yet, something in you snapped.

“Sure,” you said, your voice low but laced with anger. “Yes, let’s get divorced. It sounds like that’s what you’ve wanted all along. At this point, why not? I’d wish for it too.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, each syllable fueled by frustration and hurt.Her foot slammed on the brakes, the car jerking violently to a halt in the middle of the empty road. The force of it threw you forward, the seat belt digging into your chest as you caught yourself against the dashboard. Your head snapped toward her in disbelief, but the fiery glare in her eyes made you freeze.

It was as if your words had ignited something even angrier within her, a flame that she refused to let die down. The weight of the moment pressed down on you, and though the sudden halt had taken your breath away, it wasn’t the car’s jolt that had you reeling—it was her.

You glanced out the window and realized with a start that you were already in front of your apartment building. The neon lights from the convenience store across the street flickered, casting a dull glow on the car's interior. But Minnie didn’t say a word, her expression unreadable now as her hand moved to the gearshift.

The silence returned, thick and oppressive, as she slowly released the brakes and guided the car into the underground garage. Her movements were controlled, deliberate, as though she were holding herself together with the thin thread of composure she had left.

You wanted to say something, anything, to ease the crushing weight of the silence. But the words refused to come. The hum of the engine was all that filled the car, its persistent noise somehow highlighting how alone you felt.

The car jerked to a stop, and without a second thought, Minnie threw the car door open with a slam, the sound sharp and final. The anger in her movements was unmistakable—each action deliberate, each step away from you carrying the weight of something you weren’t ready to face. You could feel the sting of her frustration in the air, and it made your chest tighten.

You sat there in the car for a moment, paralyzed. Everything had happened so quickly, faster than you could process. Her words, the anger, the sudden shift in the air—it felt like the end of something. Your heart beat in your ears as your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Was this really the end of everything? Was this what your relationship had come to?

But no. You couldn’t let it end like this, not without confronting the mess you’d both created. You shook yourself out of the daze, forcing your body to move, to take action. This conversation—no, this argument—wasn’t finished. It needed to end here and now.

You opened the car door, your breath shallow, and rushed after her, ignoring the heavy feeling in your chest. You barely made it to the elevator before the doors closed. You caught a glimpse of her, just a fleeting moment, but it was enough. Her eyes met yours, as her face was slowly covered by the closing metal doors.

Your heart raced as you watched the elevator ascend, and you cursed under your breath. You weren’t going to let it go like this. You couldn’t. Not when everything felt so broken, but so fixable at the same time.

You pressed the button for the elevator, your hand gripping the edge of the doorframe, waiting for it to return. The silence in the garage seemed to stretch on endlessly, and with every passing second, the weight of what was happening only seemed to grow heavier.

You stepped in to the elevator, the slow, rhythmic ping of the floor numbers echoing in your mind. The numbers on the screen flickered, counting up, but in that moment, they felt more like a cruel countdown rather than progress. Each number, each floor felt like a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, giving you just enough time to think—too much time to think.

You tried to recall the last moment you saw Minnie, the brief glance exchanged before the elevator doors shut between you. It had been only a second, but in your mind, it felt like a lifetime. Your thoughts were in conflict, each memory fighting for dominance, each one pulling you in a different direction.

The numbers on the elevator’s display shifted slowly, and you watched them one by one.

"One..." You could almost feel the heat from her glare again, that fiery anger that had burned through the car earlier. It was all too real, too raw.

"Two..." But was it really that? You thought back, trying to see beyond the anger. Had her gaze been cold? That piercing coldness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Three..." It wasn’t that simple, was it? Maybe it wasn’t anger at all. Maybe you saw sadness in her eyes—real, raw sadness that had made your chest tighten, your breath catch in your throat.

"Four..." Or maybe it wasn’t any of those things. Maybe you had been too clouded by your own frustration to truly see her. Maybe, just maybe, there had been a tear glinting in her eye, too fast to catch, but real.

"Five..." The numbers came to an end, and the harsh ding of the elevator doors opening brought you back to the present.

You stepped out of the elevator, your mind still swirling with conflicting thoughts, but you knew you had no more time for hesitation. The door to your apartment was right there in front of you, yet it felt miles away. You approached it slowly, every step feeling heavier than the last. Your hand reached out for the door handle, and as you gripped it, you hesitated for a moment. The door felt impossibly heavy, almost as if it were holding you back, forcing you to confront whatever lay on the other side.

You pushed through the weight, twisting the knob and stepping inside. The apartment was eerily quiet, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the walls. It felt so different now, so foreign. The last few years had drained the warmth, the life, from this place. And now, here you were, standing in the same space with Minnie, but it felt like a universe separated the two of you.

You closed the door quietly behind you, the sound echoing in the empty apartment. You didn’t know what to say or do, but you knew that this couldn’t be ignored any longer. This silence, this tension—it was unbearable.

The tension in the room was suffocating. You stood in the middle of the living room, your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your breath shallow as you tried to keep your emotions in check. Minnie only a few steps away, hunched over the sofa facing the window, deliberately facing away from you. The dim light from the single lamp cast long shadows across the walls, the space between them feeling like an unbridgeable chasm.

“Minnie,” you said, your voice firm but edged with exhaustion. “We can’t leave this conversation here.”

She finally faced you locking her eyes to yours. You noticed her eyes were swell as if she had just recently cried, yet her face was a mask of indifference. It was the look she always wore, the one that had become her shield. But you weren't about to let her hide behind it tonight.

She let out a sharp laugh, bitter and mocking. “You’re so eager to end this, aren’t you?”

Her words stung, and you clenched your fists at your sides. “Don’t kid yourself, Minnie,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone measured. “You know I’m right.”

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharpening. “Right about what?”

You took a breath, steadying yourself. “You’re more successful in your career now than ever before. Your parents can’t pressure you like they used to.”

She frowned, clearly unimpressed. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

You stepped closer, your voice dropping as you tried to make her see reason. “This agreement—this marriage of convenience—it’s outlived its purpose. We don’t have to do this anymore. We don’t have to be together anymore.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Her lips parted slightly, as if the words had caught her off guard. But then her expression hardened, and she shot back, “What about your inheritance? You still need to be married to get it. You’ve got over a year left before you even qualify.”

Her tone was biting, but there was something else beneath it—something you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat.

She seized on your silence, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. “Is that what this is about? Ending this so you can run off to be with the woman you actually love? Jiwon, wasn’t it?”

The accusation slammed into you, the air in the room growing heavier. It wasn’t the first time she’d brought Jiwon into a fight, and it stung just as much as every time before.

You inhaled sharply, trying to keep your temper in check. “Minnie, how many times do I have to say this?” you said, your voice low but trembling with frustration. “Jiwon is just a friend. She has always been just a friend.”

But she didn’t waver. Her gaze stayed locked on yours, sharp and unrelenting. “Am I wrong? You went out drinking at some far-off pojangmacha with her, of all people, in the middle of the night. Then suddenly, you’re bringing this up now, like this is some big revelation. What else am I supposed to think, Yunjae?”

You stared at her, disbelief and anger surging in equal measure. “Do you even hear yourself, Minnie?” you demanded, your voice rising. “This again? Jiwon again? How many times are we going to do this?”

Her silence spoke volumes, but you didn’t let up. “You keep throwing her name in my face like I haven’t explained myself a thousand times already. You think I enjoy repeating myself? Telling you over and over that there’s nothing there, just to have you ignore me every time?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line, but she didn’t respond.

“Do you even know what day it is today?” you asked, your patience cracking under the weight of it all. “Do you know why I was at that far-off pojangmacha?”

Her shoulders stiffened, but she still didn’t answer.

“Do you really have no idea, Minnie?” you pressed, your voice growing louder, harsher. “Today is our anniversary, for fuck’s sake. Instead of celebrating with you, instead of being with my wife, I was sitting there drinking alone, drowning in my own goddamn misery while you were nowhere to be found.”

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came, and the disbelief in her expression pushed you further.

“And Jiwon?” you continued, your voice sharp now, cutting through the tension. “She was there because you weren’t. She sat with me, talked to me, did the one thing you couldn’t—she showed up. She was a companion. A friend. That’s all she’s ever been, no matter how many times your insecurities tell you otherwise.”

Her breath hitched, her shoulders trembling slightly, but you weren’t done.

“It might’ve started as a marriage of convenience,�� you said, your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm you, “but I’ve never treated it as a joke. Not once. I’ve given it everything—my patience, my effort, my whole goddamn self. I’ve tried to be a good husband, or at the very least, a friend you could count on.”

You took a step closer, forcing her to meet your gaze. “But you, Minnie? You’ve avoided me. Treated me like a stranger. Like I wasn’t even worth the bare minimum effort to make this work. And every time you bring up Jiwon, every time you accuse me of something like this, it’s like you’re trying to justify shutting me out. To make me the villain instead of facing whatever it is that’s really going on.”

Her hands clenched at her sides, her head bowing slightly as if your words had physically struck her.

“The least you could’ve done,” you said, your voice quieter now, but no less firm, “was trust me. Trust what I’ve told you, over and over again. And try to preserve what we had—our friendship, at the very least.”

Her arms dropped to her sides, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

You pressed on, your words gaining momentum. “I tried to be understanding. I told myself it was your job, that it was just too taxing. But there’s only so much I can compromise, Minnie. Do you know how much it hurts every time I think about what we used to be? What we’ve thrown away because of this… this stupid marriage?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. For the first time in the entire argument, she looked vulnerable—small.

“Isn’t that why you’ve grown distant?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost pleading. “You regret this, don’t you? That’s why you’re like this. Isn’t it? Tell me, Minnie. Why did you say yes in the first place?”

She stared at you, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. For a moment, you thought she wouldn’t answer. But then, her voice broke through the silence.

“Because it made sense,” she said, her tone flat, almost mechanical.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Of course. That’s the reason. ‘It made sense.’”

“It’s not just that!” she snapped, her voice breaking, the anger and frustration spilling out all at once. “It’s not only because it made sense.”

“Then tell me!” you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls of the apartment. “Give me another reason why we should continue this, Minnie, because what we have right now—whatever this is—isn’t worth keeping!”

Her hands balled into fists, and for a moment, you thought she’d lash out at you. But instead, she took a shuddering breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Because I was scared!” she yelled, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Because I thought I was going to lose you!”

Her confession hung in the air, raw and heavy, piercing through the anger like a blade.

“What?” you whispered, your voice faltering, confusion overtaking your frustration.

“I acted that way because I was afraid,” she repeated, her voice cracking. “Because this marriage meant we can’t go back. Because I realized too late that if I lose you in this marriage, I’d lose you forever.”

Her words lingered, their meaning teetering on the edge of something deeper, unspoken. She looked away, her arms wrapping around herself as if shielding something she couldn’t bring herself to admit.

You stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in, the truth cutting deeper than you anticipated.

Her voice wavered as she continued, a hint of desperation slipping through. “Being with you, acting like a couple—it made me happy. Too happy. But then it all started feeling too real. It felt like I was enjoying it too much.”

Your breath hitched as her meaning sank in.

“Minnie…” you said, your tone softer, a tremor of realization in your voice.

The silence that followed was deafening, filled with everything she couldn’t say and everything you weren’t sure you wanted to hear.

But she didn’t stop. Her voice trembled as her emotions spilled out, years of fear and pain surfacing all at once. “And then it hit me. This wasn’t real. It was never real. I was so scared of losing you, I regret agreeing to something I didn’t even understand. And every day, I kept thinking, ‘What if he wakes up and realizes he doesn’t need me? What if he decides to leave?’ So I distanced myself. I thought it’d hurt less that way. But it didn’t. It just made it worse.”

She drew in a shuddering breath, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It felt like I was taking advantage of you. Like I was holding you hostage in something you never wanted. Every time I looked at you, I felt guilty. It felt like I was coveting something I didn’t deserve. And I… I didn’t know what to do with that. I thought if I kept some distance, it’d hurt less when…” Her voice faltered as she swallowed hard. “…when we finally ended this.”

Her voice broke entirely as the tears finally came, streaming down her face in uncontrollable waves. She brought her hands up to cover her face, but her sobs filled the room, raw and unguarded.

You froze, the sight of her unraveling like this rendering you speechless. All the anger, all the frustration that had built up inside you, dissolved into something else—something achingly tender.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, closing the space between you. Gently, you reached out, your hands trembling as they brushed against her arms, then her shoulders, before finally pulling her into a hesitant embrace.

She stiffened at first, but then, as if the dam inside her finally broke, she leaned into you, clutching at your shirt as though letting go might shatter her entirely. Her sobs wracked her body, her pain and fear pouring out into the silence between you.

And for the first time, you found yourself holding her not out of obligation, but because you didn’t want to let her go. Slowly, carefully, you reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you brushed the tears from her cheeks.

She flinched at first, but when she felt the gentle press of your fingers, she stilled. Her hands fell to her sides, and she stood there, her sobs quieting as you wiped away her tears in silence.

Your thumb lingered on her cheek for a moment, and then another, your touch soft, unhurried, as if you were trying to erase not just her tears but the pain they carried.

“Minnie,” you finally said, your voice a low murmur. “I had no idea…”. You cupped her face wanting to meet her eyes

Her shoulders shook again, but this time she didn’t pull away. She leaned into your hand, her tears still falling but slower now, her breathing uneven.

“All this time…” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “You’ve been scared. And I—”

You stopped, your throat tightening. The realization struck you hard, the truth you had avoided for so long staring back at you. You had been scared too. Scared of the vulnerability, of admitting how much she meant to you, of risking it all and losing her in the end.

For the moment, your eyes finally met with hers, but neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy but not unbearable, filled with something fragile yet unspoken.

The tension in the room didn’t disappear, but something shifted. For the first time in what felt like forever, the truth was out in the open. And even though it hurt, even though it felt like your chest was being torn open, it was a start.

But words weren’t enough. Not tonight. Not when the air between you was still crackling with something raw and unspoken. Not when she stood there, her long black hair falling over her shoulders, her bangs slightly tousled, her slim frame trembling with the weight of her confession, her vulnerability laid bare.

Before your mind could think, your body moved.

In one impulsive motion, you closed the distance between you, your hands cupping her face as your lips crashed into hers. The kiss was sudden, reckless, and charged with all the emotions you’d been holding back. Her lips were soft, warm, and trembling against yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

But then your brain caught up, and you jolted away, your breath ragged, your heart pounding in your chest. “Minnie… I—” you stammered, trying to explain yourself, to apologize for the impulsiveness of it all.

But before you could finish, her lips found yours again, cutting off your words. This time, it was her who closed the gap, her kiss just as desperate, just as messy, as if she couldn’t bear to let you pull away. Her hands clutched at the front of your shirt, her fingers twisting into the fabric like she was afraid you’d vanish if she let go.

“Yunjae,” she whispered against your lips, her voice breaking. “Don’t leave me.”

The plea was raw, unfiltered, and it shattered whatever restraint you had left. Her lips were soft but insistent, trembling with a vulnerability that mirrored your own. You could feel the dampness of her tears as they spilled over, mingling with the heat of your kiss. She kissed you back with a hunger that matched your own, her fingers tangling in your hair as if she was trying to anchor herself to you.

In one swift motion, you scooped her up into your arms, her body light and trembling against yours. Her arms instinctively wrapped around your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair as she clung to you, her breath hot against your skin. She felt fragile in your arms, her slim frame fitting perfectly against you, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart as you carried her toward the bedroom.

Her pink jacket and pants were still partially on, the fabric soft against your skin, but the black sleeveless crop top she wore underneath clung to her body, revealing the delicate curve of her waist and the faint outline of her ribcage. Her long black hair spilled over your arm, her bangs slightly messy from the intensity of the moment, and she looked up at you with wide, uncertain eyes.

You kissed her again as you walked, your lips brushing against hers in a slow, heated kiss that made her gasp. Her hands tightened around your neck, her nails digging into your skin as if she was afraid you’d let her go. But you didn’t. You held her closer, your arms tightening around her as you carried her into the bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across the walls. You laid her down gently on the bed, her dark hair fanning out around her like a halo. She looked up at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes wide and vulnerable as she reached for you, her hands trembling as they traced the lines of your chest, your stomach, your hips.

“Minnie if you want me to stop…” you asked for confirmation.

“Yunjae,” she whispered again, her voice breaking as she pulled you closer. “Please.”

You kissed her again while taking off her jacket, your lips trailing down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. She gasped, her hands clutching at your shoulders as you moved lower, your lips brushing against the edge of her crop top. Her breath hitched as you pulled her crop-top over her head, putting into full view her whole upper body, the well defined lines of her stomach, the delicate curve of her waist. Her ribcage was faintly visible as she arched into your touch.

You kissed her stomach, your lips brushed against her skin as your hands slid down to the waistband of her pants. She let out a soft moan, her hips lifting slightly as you undid the button and zipper, sliding the fabric down her legs. She kicked them off, leaving her in nothing but her black lace underwear, her body trembling under your gaze.

She was beautiful. Her long black hair fanned out around her like a halo, her bangs slightly tousled as she looked up at you with wide, uncertain eyes. Her ribcage was faintly visible as she took a shallow breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. You could see the faint outline of her collarbone, the delicate curve of her waist, the way her body seemed to tremble with every touch.

Her hands slid down to your chest, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of your shirt as if she couldn’t get close enough to you. You helped her, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor, your skin prickling under her touch. Her breath hitched as her palms flattened against your chest, her fingertips tracing the lines of your collarbone, your shoulders, your arms. Her touch was hesitant at first, almost shy, but there was a hunger in her eyes that made your breath catch.

But then her hands moved lower, her fingers brushing against the waistband of your pants. She hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing as she looked up at you, her dark eyes filled with a mix of nervousness and desire. “Can I…?” she whispered, her voice trembling with need as she looked into your eyes, her dark gaze filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire.

You nodded, your breath catching as you reached for her hands, intertwining your fingers with hers as you guided her to the button of your pants. “Go ahead,” you murmured, your voice low and rough as you pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she undid the button and zipper of your pants, her fingers brushing against your skin as she pushed them down your legs. You kicked them off, leaving you with only your boxer. Her breath hitched as she took in the sight of you, her dark eyes wide with a mix of awe and desire.

Your lips met again, and this time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was deep, desperate, and full of all the things you couldn’t say. Her tongue clashed with yours, the heat between you building as she kissed you with a ferocity that left you breathless. You could feel her trembling against you, her hands clutching at your shoulders as if she was afraid you’d pull away.

But you didn’t. You kissed her back just as fiercely, your hands sliding down to her waist as you pulled her closer. Her body pressed against yours, her slim frame fitting perfectly against you, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart as she moved against you.

Her aggressive kissing pushed you back, and before you knew it, your back was against the headrest, her body on top of you as she straddled your lap. Her hands roamed over your chest, her touch frantic and desperate as if she was trying to anchor herself to you. Her breath hitched as your lips trailed down her neck, her collarbone, her chest, and she let out a soft moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your hands slipped underneath her bra, your fingers brushing against the soft, warm skin of her chest. She gasped, her body arching into your touch as your palms cupped her breasts, your thumbs brushing over her nipples. They were already hard, sensitive to your touch, and she let out a soft whimper as you teased them, your fingers rolling and pinching gently.

But as your hands moved to the clasp of her bra, fumbling clumsily in your haste. Her hands reached behind her back, and with a practiced ease, she unhooked the bra herself, letting it fall away. Her breasts were now bare, her nipples hard and sensitive in the cool air of the room.

“Yunjae,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she clung to you. “Please.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your lips trailed down her neck, her collarbone, her chest, and you took one of her nipples into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. She gasped, her hands clutching at your hair as she arched into you, her body trembling with every touch.

Your lips returned to her neck, your hands tracing the curves of her hips, leading to her midriff. Your touch was deliberate, exploring every inch of her as if committing her to memory. Your hand moved downward, sliding over the smooth skin of her stomach until your fingers brushed against the fabric of her panties. She was already drenched, the wetness seeping through the thin material, and her entire body jolted as your finger made contact.

You rubbed her gently, the wet sounds filling the room as her hips instinctively rocked against your hand. Her crotch throbbed with every movement, her breath hitching as your fingers slid against the fabric, teasing her through the damp material.

“You’re so wet…” you murmured, your voice low and rough with desire.

Her eyes trembled, her lips parting as if she wanted to explain, to justify the way her body reacted to you. “Yunjae… I—” she began, her voice shaky and breathless.

But before she could finish, you slipped a finger inside her, and her words dissolved into a sharp, breathy moan. Her body tensed, her back arching as she instinctively pressed herself closer to you, her hands gripping your shoulders for support. She was warm and tight, her walls clenching around your finger as you moved slowly, giving her time to adjust.

“Yunjae…” she gasped again, her voice breaking as her hips rocked against your hand, seeking more of your touch. Her nails dug into your skin, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you added a second finger, stretching her gently.

Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her body trembling as you curled your fingers inside her, hitting a spot that made her cry out. Her thighs clenched around your hand, her hips moving in rhythm with your fingers as she chased the pleasure building inside her. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her nails digging into your shoulders as she clung to you, her body taut with tension.

“Yunjae… I’m—” she gasped, her voice breaking as her body began to shake. Her walls clenched around your fingers, her hips stuttering as the pleasure overwhelmed her. Her back arched, her head tilting back as a sharp, breathy cry escaped her lips. Her entire body tensed, then shuddered as she came, her release washing over her in waves.

Her strength gave out almost immediately, her body slumping against yours as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. Her breath was hot and ragged against your skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. Her hands, which had been gripping your shoulders so tightly, now rested limply against your back, her fingers trembling as she clung to you.

“Yunjae…” she whispered, her voice soft and hoarse, her lips brushing against your skin. Her body was still trembling, her legs shaky as she tried to steady herself. She felt small and fragile in your arms, her vulnerability laid bare in the aftermath of her release.

But as she shifted slightly, trying to catch her breath, she became acutely aware of the hardness pressing against her through the thin fabric of your boxers. Her crotch, still clad in her damp panties, was now positioned directly over your cock, the tip of it protruding past the garter of your boxers. The sensation made her gasp softly, her eyes widening as she realized just how much you wanted her.

She looked up at you, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and nervousness. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she bit her lower lip, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the waistband of your boxers. Her movements were hesitant, her fingers fumbling as she tried to pull them down, her inexperience evident in the way she hesitated.

“Minnie…” you murmured, your voice gentle as you reached for her hands, stopping her. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she interrupted, her voice soft but firm. Her eyes met yours, and there was a determination in them that surprised you. “It’s my turn now. Let me… let me make you feel good, Yunjae.”

You nodded, letting go of her hands and giving her the space to continue. She took a deep breath, her fingers trembling as she finally managed to pull your boxers down, freeing your hardened length. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of you, her breath hitching as she reached out, her touch tentative as her fingers brushed against you.

“Is… is this okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked up at you, her dark eyes filled with uncertainty.

“More than okay,” you assured her, your voice rough with desire but gentle, encouraging her.

She nodded, her fingers wrapping around you hesitantly, her grip loose at first as she began to stroke you. Her movements were clumsy, her touch unsure, but the sensation of her hand on you was enough to make your breath hitch. She watched your face carefully, her eyes searching for any sign of discomfort or pleasure, her cheeks flushing as she realized just how much her touch was affecting you.

“Like this?” she asked, her voice trembling as she tightened her grip slightly, her hand moving a little faster.

“Yeah,” you groaned, your hips bucking instinctively as her fingers brushed over the sensitive tip. “Just like that, Minnie.”

Encouraged by your response, she continued, her movements growing more confident as she found a rhythm that made you groan. But then she hesitated again, her eyes flickering down to your cock before she looked up at you, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Can I…?” she began, her voice trailing off as she gestured toward her mouth.

You nodded, your breath catching as she leaned down, her lips brushing against the tip of your cock before she took you into her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, her warm, wet tongue swirling around you as she began to move her head. Her movements were slow and tentative, her inexperience evident in the way she hesitated, but the sheer fact that she was trying, that she wanted to please you, made it all the more intense.

“Minnie…” you gasped, your hands tangling in her hair as she took you deeper, her tongue pressing against the underside of your cock as she sucked. The wet sounds of her mouth on you filled the room, her moans vibrating against your skin as she worked to bring you pleasure.

But she wasn’t done. She pulled back slightly, her lips still wrapped around you as she looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and determination. She took a deep breath, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked you deeper, her tongue swirling around you as she moved her head. The sensation was overwhelming, her warm, wet mouth enveloping you as she worked to bring you pleasure.

“Minnie…” you groaned, your hands tightening in her hair as she took you deeper, her tongue pressing against the underside of your cock as she sucked. The wet sounds of her mouth on you filled the room, her moans vibrating against your skin as she worked to bring you pleasure.

Her free hand reached up, her fingers intertwining with yours as she looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire. She didn’t need to say anything—her actions spoke volumes, her determination to make you feel good evident in every movement. Her lips tightened around you, her tongue flicking against the sensitive spot just below the tip, and you felt yourself nearing the edge.

“Minnie… I’m close,” you warned, your voice strained as your hands tightened in her hair. “You should… stop…”

But she didn’t. Instead, she looked up at you, her dark eyes glinting with determination as she took you deeper, her lips tightening around you as she sucked harder. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, her movements growing more confident as she focused on bringing you over the edge. The sensation was overwhelming, her warm, wet mouth enveloping you as she worked to bring you pleasure.

“Minnie, I—” you tried again, your voice breaking as your hips bucked instinctively, but she didn’t pull away. Her hands gripped your thighs, her nails digging into your skin as she held you in place, her mouth working tirelessly to push you closer to the edge.

And then it happened. With a low groan, you came, your release spilling into her mouth as she continued to suck, her movements slowing but not stopping. Her eyes fluttered shut, her cheeks hollowing as she swallowed, her throat working to take everything you gave her. The sight of her like this—her lips wrapped around you, her face flushed, her mouth full of you—was almost too much to bear.

When she finally pulled away, her lips were glistening, a faint trace of cum lingering at the corner of her mouth. She looked up at you, her dark eyes wide and dazed, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she tried to catch her breath. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips clean before she swallowed again, her cheeks flushing as she realized what she’d just done.

“Minnie…” you murmured, your voice rough with emotion as you reached for her, pulling her into your arms. She came willingly, her body collapsing against yours as you laid back against the pillows, her head resting on your chest. Her long black hair fanned out around her, her bangs slightly tousled as she looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and vulnerability.

“Did I… do okay?” she asked, her voice soft and hesitant as she traced circles on your chest with her fingertips.

“More than okay,” you assured her, your voice gentle as you pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You were amazing, Minnie.”

She let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing against yours as she nestled closer, her head resting in the crook of your neck. Her breath was warm against your skin, her body still trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. You held her close, your hands stroking her back as you tried to steady your own breathing.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The room was quiet, the only sounds the soft rustle of the sheets as you shifted slightly, pulling the blanket over the two of you. Minnie’s body was warm against yours, her slim frame fitting perfectly against you as she lay on top of you, her legs tangled with yours. Her hair, messy and slightly damp, brushed against your neck, and you could feel her steady breath on your skin.

“Minnie…” you whispered, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

She hummed in response, her head resting against your chest, fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm.

“When did it start?” you asked, your words hanging in the quiet air between you.

She tilted her head, looking up at you with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?”

“When did it start?” you repeated, your voice a little firmer now. “Was it after the marriage?”

Her brows furrowed briefly before the realization dawned on her. Understanding your question, she shook her head.

“No?” you asked, a hint of surprise in your tone. “Then… was it during our wedding day? During our first night?”

Minnie hesitated, her gaze flickering away for a moment.

“Or when we exchanged vows?” you pressed, your curiosity tinged with something deeper, almost like hope.

Her lips parted as if to respond, but instead, she shook her head again. “Earlier,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Earlier?” you echoed, confusion lacing your tone. “When were we convincing our parents?”

This time, she didn’t answer right away. Instead, a faint smile appeared on her lips, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen from her in a long time—soft, genuine, and tinged with something unspoken.

That smile was enough.

Your heart clenched, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. “Minnie…” you said, your voice cracking slightly.

She didn’t say anything else, just nestled closer against you, her fingers still idly tracing shapes on your arm. Her smile lingered, and though the silence between you stretched, it was no longer heavy with doubt or regret.

But then, something shifted. The air between you grew warmer, heavier, as if her smile had unlocked something deep inside you. You couldn’t help it—you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. She froze for a moment, her breath hitching, but then she kissed you back, her lips trembling against yours.

The kiss was slow at first, almost hesitant, but it didn’t take long for the tension to build again. Her hands slid up to your chest. Your hands found her waist, your fingers digging into her skin as you deepened the kiss, your tongues clashing in a heated dance.

“Yunjae…” she gasped, her voice breaking as she pulled away slightly, her breath hot against your lips. Her eyes were dark with desire, her cheeks flushed as she looked up at you, her lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you kissed her again, your hands sliding down to her hips as you pulled her closer. Her body pressed against yours, her slim frame fitting perfectly against you, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart as she moved against you.

But then she surprised you. With a sudden shift of her weight, she pushed you back against the pillows, her hands pressing against your chest as she straddled your lap. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, her bangs slightly tousled as she looked down at you, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of determination and desire.

Then she shifted, her hips rolling against yours in a slow, deliberate motion that made your breath catch. The damp fabric of her panties rubbed against your hardened length, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Her movements were slow at first, almost teasing, but it didn’t take long for her to find a rhythm that made your hips buck instinctively.

“Yunjae…” she gasped, her voice breaking as she rocked against you, her body trembling with every movement. Her breath was hot against your skin, her moans soft and desperate as she moved with you, her body trembling with every thrust.

You couldn’t take your eyes off her. The way her body moved, the way her hips rolled against yours, the way her breath hitched with every movement—it was mesmerizing. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, her bangs slightly tousled as she looked down at you, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of determination and desire.

“Minnie…” you groaned, your hands tightening on her hips as you guided her movements, your fingers digging into her skin as she rocked against you. The damp fabric of her panties rubbed against your hardened length, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

Her moans grew louder, more unrestrained, as she moved against you, her body trembling with every thrust. Her hands clutched at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she clung to you, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she chased the pleasure building inside her.

“Ah!” Minnie suddenly moaned, her body tensing as her climax neared. With her release just within reach, you pushed her hips down and thrust your hips up, the sudden additional stimulation catching her off guard. Her body, unprepared for the intensity, collapsed, her arms barely catching herself just before her face met yours. Now, you were close enough to exchange breaths, your lips inches apart as you both gasped for air.

“Yunjae…” she whispered, her voice trembling with need as she looked into your eyes, her dark gaze filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire.

“You’re so wet…” you murmured, your voice low and teasing as your fingers toyed with her pussy, the damp fabric of her panties pushed to the side. Her breath hitched as your fingers brushed against her sensitive folds, her body trembling with every touch.

“Do you want it?” you asked, your tone playful but laced with desire as you looked up at her, your fingers still teasing her.

She didn’t respond with words, just nodded, her cheeks flushing as she looked down at you, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

“But if I don’t loosen you up beforehand…” you began, your words trailing off as you shifted your position, with her still kneeling with you underneath, you positioning your face between her open legs. Her breath hitched as you leaned in, your tongue brushing against her sensitive folds, the taste of her overwhelming as you began to lick her.

“Yunjae…” she gasped, her hands tangling in your hair as she arched into your touch, her body trembling with every movement. Her moans grew louder, more unrestrained, as you continued to pleasure her, your tongue swirling around her sensitive bud as you worked to bring her to the edge.

You started slow, your tongue tracing delicate patterns over her folds, savoring the taste of her as she writhed above you. Her thighs clenched around your head, her hips rocking instinctively against your mouth as you teased her, your tongue flicking against her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. Her breath hitched, her moans growing louder as you increased the pressure, your tongue pressing harder against her sensitive bud.

“Ah… Yunjae…” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she clutched at your hair, her nails digging into your scalp as she tried to steady herself. Her body was trembling, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you continued to pleasure her, your tongue working tirelessly to bring her closer to the edge.

But then you decided to take it further. Your tongue dipped lower, tracing the entrance of her pussy before pressing inside. She gasped, her body jerking slightly as your tongue entered her, the sensation new and overwhelming. Her hands tightened in your hair, her nails digging into your scalp as she tried to steady herself.

“Yunjae…” she moaned, her voice trembling with need as she rocked against your mouth, her hips moving in rhythm with your tongue. Her breath hitched as you continued to explore her, your tongue moving in and out of her in slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation was overwhelming, her body trembling with every movement as you worked to bring her closer to the edge.

You could feel her thighs shaking, her body tensing as she neared her climax. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as you focused on her clit, your tongue swirling around it in tight, rapid circles while still pressing inside her. Her hands tightened in your hair, her hips bucking against your mouth as she tried to chase the pleasure building inside her.

“Yunjae… I’m… I’m going to…” she gasped, her voice breaking as her body tensed, her thighs clamping around your head as she reached her peak. Her back arched, her head tilting back as a sharp, breathy cry escaped her lips. Her entire body shuddered as she came, her release washing over her in waves.

You didn’t stop, your tongue continuing to lap at her as she trembled above you, her body still twitching with the aftershocks of her climax. Her hands, which had been gripping your hair so tightly, now rested limply against your head, her fingers trembling as she tried to catch her breath.

“Yunjae… I can’t…” she whispered, her voice soft and hoarse as she slumped against you, her body collapsing onto the bed beside you. Her breath was hot and ragged against your skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to steady herself. Her long black hair was damp with sweat, her bangs sticking to her forehead as she looked up at you with wide, dazed eyes.

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm as you pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can’t wait anymore either.”

You shifted slightly, your hands moving to her hips as you gently rolled her onto her back. She looked up at you, her dark eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and nervousness, her breath hitching as you leaned down to kiss her again. Her lips were soft and warm against yours, her hands tangling in your hair as she kissed you back with a hunger that matched your own.

But then you pulled away, your hands moving to the waistband of her panties. She froze for a moment, her breath catching as she realized what you were about to do. Her cheeks flushed, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for yours, her fingers intertwining with yours as she looked up at you.

“Yunjae…” she whispered, her voice trembling with need as she looked into your eyes, her dark gaze filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire.

“It’s okay,” you assured her, your voice gentle as you pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve got you.”

She nodded, her hands falling away as you gently slid her panties down her legs, the damp fabric clinging to her skin as you pulled them off. She was completely bare now, her body trembling with anticipation as you settled between her legs, your hands resting on her hips as you looked down at her.

“Minnie…” you murmured, your voice rough with desire as you leaned down to kiss her again, your lips brushing against hers in a slow, heated kiss that made her gasp. Her hands clutched at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she clung to you, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you positioned yourself at her entrance.

“Are you ready?” you asked, your voice soft but firm as you looked down at her, your eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

She nodded, her hands tightening on your shoulders as she looked up at you, her dark eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and desire. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need as she arched into you, her body trembling with every movement.

All you needed was her confirmation. With a slow, deliberate motion, you pushed inside her, her body tensing slightly as she adjusted to the sensation. For you, the feeling was indescribable. The warmth and tightness of her around you was overwhelming, a sensation that sent a shiver down your spine. Her body was soft and yielding, yet so incredibly tight, as if she was made to fit you perfectly. The way her walls clenched around you, hot and wet, made your breath hitch, your hips instinctively rocking against hers.

“Yunjae…” she gasped, her voice breaking as she arched into you, her body trembling with every thrust. Her breath was hot against your skin, her moans soft and desperate as she moved with you, her body trembling with every movement.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, your voice low and concerned as you stilled inside her, giving her a moment to adjust. Your hands moved to her hips, your thumbs brushing against her skin in a soothing motion.

She shook her head, her hands clutching at your shoulders as she looked up at you, her dark eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire. “No… it’s just… a lot,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need as she arched into you, her body trembling with every movement.

You nodded, your hands moving to her hips as you gently guided her movements, your fingers digging into her skin as she rocked against you. “Tell me if it’s too much,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm as you looked down at her, your eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort.

She nodded, her hands tightening on your shoulders as she looked up at you, her dark eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and desire. “I will,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need as she arched into you, her body trembling with every movement.

As you continued to move, the initial tension in her body began to ease. The pressure gave way to a deeper, more pleasurable sensation, a warmth that spread through your lower abdomen and made your toes curl. Her hands clutched at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she clung to you, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she chased the pleasure building inside her.

You couldn’t take your eyes off her. The way her body moved, the way her hips rocked against yours, the way her breath hitched with every movement—it was mesmerizing. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, her bangs slightly tousled as she looked up at you, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of determination and desire.

But then you noticed something—a few strands of her hair had fallen onto her face, sticking to her damp skin. Without thinking, you reached up, your fingers gently brushing the hair away from her face. She looked up at you, her dark eyes wide and vulnerable as you caressed her cheek, your thumb brushing against her lips.

“Yunjae…” she whispered, her voice trembling with need as she looked into your eyes, her dark gaze filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you leaned down to kiss her again, your lips brushing against hers in a slow, heated kiss that made her gasp. Her hands clutched at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she clung to you, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you continued to move, your hips rocking against hers in a slow, steady rhythm.

But then you pulled away, your fingers brushing against her lips again. This time, you pressed them gently against her mouth, her breath hitching as she realized what you were about to do. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue darting out to lick your fingers as you pushed them into her mouth, her warm, wet tongue swirling around them as she sucked.

“Yunjae…” she moaned, her voice trembling with need as she looked up at you, her dark eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire. Her hands clutched at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she clung to you, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you continued to move, your hips rocking against hers in a slow, steady rhythm.

As you thrust deeper, the outline of your length became faintly visible against her lower abdomen, the subtle bulge a testament to how deeply you were inside her. Her slim frame made it impossible to ignore—every movement, every push and pull, was mirrored in the way her stomach tensed and relaxed. It was a sight that made your breath catch, a visual reminder of how intimately connected you were.

“Do you feel that?” you murmured, your voice low and rough as you pressed a kiss to her neck, your hands gripping her hips to guide her movements. “How deep I am?”

She nodded, her breath hitching as she arched into you, her body trembling with every thrust. “I… I can feel all of you,” she gasped, her voice breaking as she clung to you, her nails digging into your skin. “It’s… so much…”

“You’re taking me so well,” you whispered, your voice filled with awe as you watched her body respond to yours. Her hips rocked against you, her legs hugging your hips locking you in, her movements growing more desperate as she chased the pleasure building inside her.

“Yunjae… I’m… I’m going to…” she gasped, her voice breaking as her body tensed, her thighs clamping around your hips as she reached her peak. Her back arched, her head tilting back as a sharp, breathy cry escaped her lips. Her entire body shuddered as she came, her release washing over her in waves.

You didn’t stop, your hips continuing to move against hers as she trembled beneath you, her body still twitching with the aftershocks of her climax. Her hands, which had been gripping your shoulders so tightly, now rested limply against your back, her fingers trembling as she tried to catch her breath. Her legs, which had locked around you moments ago, now lay idle on the bed, completely spent and devoid of strength.

Feeling her body go slack beneath you, you slowed your movements, your own breath ragged as you leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “You did so well, Minnie,” you murmured, your voice rough but tender. As you pulled back, your cock slipped out of her, the sensation making her gasp softly, her body twitching in response.

You took a moment to admire her—Minnie, laid bare and utterly spent on the bed. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her long black hair fanned out around her like a dark halo, damp with sweat and clinging to her skin. Her bangs stuck to her forehead, and her lips were slightly parted as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes were half-lidded, her gaze unfocused as she looked up at you, her expression a mix of exhaustion and contentment.

She was beautiful, completely undone by the intensity of what had just happened. But even as she lay there, utterly spent, the fire inside you still burned. The sight of her like this—her body trembling, her skin glistening with sweat, her lips swollen from your kisses—only stoked the flames further.

“Minnie…” you groaned, your voice rough with need as you looked down at her, your eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. You knew she was exhausted, but the primal part of you couldn’t let go just yet.

She nodded, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of anticipation and desire, even through her exhaustion. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. Then, softer, almost shyly, she added, “I want you to… inside me.”

Her words snapped something primal within you, a deep, instinctive need to claim her, to make her yours in every way possible. You gave her only a second to rest before you lifted her legs, draping them over your shoulders. Before she could react, you were already pushing inside her again, your length sliding deep into her warmth.

“Hmmphh…” she gasped, her exhausted body arching slightly as she let out a muffled sound of pleasure. Her eyes fluttered open, wide with surprise at the new depth she hadn’t experienced before.

“Yunjae!!” she cried out, though her voice was weaker now, softened by exhaustion. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her body trembling as she tried to adjust to the overwhelming sensation.

You started slow, each thrust deliberate and deep, the weight of your body pressing her into the mattress. With every movement, you could feel her walls clenching around you, her body responding even as she lay there, spent and overstimulated. Her moans grew louder, more unrestrained, as you gradually increased your pace.

“Yunjae–... you’re… so deep…” she managed to gasp between breaths, her voice breaking as her body writhed beneath you. Her hands moved frantically, unsure of where to grip—one moment clutching your arm, the next clawing at the sheets, then flying up to cover her mouth as her cries grew louder, more desperate.

You caught both her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand, while the other moved to her mouth, your fingers slipping past her lips to muffle her screams. She sucked on them instinctively, her tongue swirling around your digits as her muffled moans vibrated against your skin.

The sight of her like this—completely at your mercy, her body trembling with overstimulation, her eyes glazed with pleasure—was almost too much to bear. You could feel your release building, the pressure in your lower abdomen growing with every thrust.

“Minnie… I’m… I’m close…” you groaned, your voice strained as you fought to hold on just a little longer.

“Yunjae… I’m… also… Inside me… please…” she screamed, her voice unhinged by pleasure, her body arching into yours as she begged for your release.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a few more deep, punishing thrusts, you felt yourself reaching the edge. Your body tensed, and with a low, guttural groan, you came, your release spilling inside her in hot, unending waves. The sensation was overwhelming, a warmth that spread through your lower abdomen and made your toes curl. Her body tightened around you, her walls clenching as if trying to draw every last drop from you.

Your release was so intense that it pushed your cock out slightly, the excess spilling out of her and pooling on her stomach. Her pussy dripped with your cum, her body spasming uncontrollably as she rode out the waves of her own climax. Her cries were unrestrained now, her voice breaking as she clung to you, her nails digging into your skin.

When it was finally over, the room fell silent except for the sound of your ragged breaths. Minnie lay beneath you, her body still trembling, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to steady herself. Her eyes were half-lidded, her gaze unfocused as she looked up at you, her lips parted as she gasped for air.

“Yunjae…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, soft and hoarse. “You… came inside…” Her tone was a stark contrast to the unrestrained screams from moments ago, now filled with a quiet awe, as if she was asking for confirmation that it had really happened.

You nodded, your own breath still uneven as you leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I did,” you murmured, your voice gentle but firm. “I couldn’t hold back… not with you.”

She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing against the pool of cum on her stomach, her touch almost reverent. “It’s… warm,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her smile widened slightly, a soft, contented expression that made your chest ache with something deeper than desire.

You leaned down to kiss her again, this time on the lips. It was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the raw intensity of what had just happened. Her hands moved to your face, her fingers trembling as they traced the lines of your jaw, your cheeks, as if she was memorizing every detail.

“Yunjae…” she whispered against your lips, her voice trembling with emotion. “I… I love you. I’ve loved you for so long… I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Her confession hit you like a punch to the chest, your breath catching in your throat. You pulled back slightly, your eyes searching hers, looking for any hint of doubt. But all you saw was sincerity, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Minnie…” you murmured, your voice rough with emotion. “I love you too. I’ve always loved you. Even when I didn’t know how to say it… even when I thought I couldn’t have you. You’ve always been it for me.”

Her lips trembled as she smiled, a single tear slipping down her cheek. You wiped it away with your thumb, your touch gentle as you leaned down to kiss her again. This time, it was slow and sweet, a kiss that spoke of all the things you hadn’t been able to say before.

When you finally pulled away, she nestled into your chest, her body still trembling slightly as she tried to catch her breath. You reached for the tissues on the nightstand, cleaning yourself off before gently wiping her stomach and the mess between her legs. She watched you quietly, her eyes soft and filled with affection as you took care of her.

When you were done, you collapsed beside her, pulling her into your arms. She fit perfectly against you, her head resting on your chest as her fingers traced idle patterns on your skin. Her breathing slowly evened out, her body relaxing as exhaustion finally claimed her.

“Yunjae…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she drifted off to sleep. “Don’t let go…”

“I won’t,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m here, Minnie. I’m not going anywhere.”

As her breathing steadied and she fell into a deep sleep, you held her close, your own exhaustion finally catching up to you. But before you let yourself drift off, you whispered one last thing, knowing she couldn’t hear it but needing to say it anyway.

“I love you, Minnie. Always.”

—

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, its golden rays falling across your face. You stirred, your body slowly waking. As you opened your eyes, the events of the night before rushed back to you in vivid detail. Minnie’s words, her touch, her warmth—it all felt so real, so vivid.

But the bed was cold beside you.

Frowning, you turned to the empty space where she had been. The sheets were smooth, the faintest hint of her scent lingering on the pillow. You sat up, running a hand through your messy hair, your heart sinking slightly.

“Minnie?” you called out, your voice hoarse.

There was no response.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, wincing slightly as you stretched. For a moment, you expected a hangover to hit you, but you felt fine—physically, at least. Emotionally, though, a heaviness settled over you as you searched the room for any sign of her.

She wasn’t in the bathroom.

She wasn’t in the living room, either.

Disappointment crept in as you moved through the apartment, checking every corner, every room. By the time you circled back to the kitchen, your chest felt hollow. After everything that had happened last night—her confession, her vulnerability, her promise—she was gone.

And then you saw it.

On the table was a neatly prepared breakfast. A plate of rice, eggs, and a bowl of soup sat perfectly arranged, steam still rising faintly as if she’d just finished making it. Beside the plate was a small folded note with your name scrawled in her neat handwriting.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you picked it up, unfolding the paper.

—

Yunjae,

I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when you woke up. I really didn’t want to leave, especially after last night, but I had to. All I could do was make you breakfast before I left. Please eat it while it’s still warm.

And one more thing—don’t eat dinner alone. Promise me, okay? I’ll be back, but it’ll be late. Wait for me.

-Minnie

—

After reading the letter, you sat back in your chair, the note still clutched in your hand. For a moment, you simply stared at it, rereading her words over and over again. The tone of her writing—it struck you. It wasn’t just thoughtful; it was so unmistakably her.

It reminded you of how she used to be, back when things between the two of you were simpler. Back before the distance, the hesitations, the quiet battles you both fought without words.

You could almost hear her voice, playful and teasing yet tinged with warmth, as she used to remind you to take care of yourself. Back then, her care wasn’t forced or overshadowed by guilt—it was natural, effortless. And this note, with its soft insistence that you not eat dinner alone, was a glimpse of that.

Your chest tightened with a mixture of longing and hope.

Is this what healing feels like? you wondered.

You thought back to the way she’d smiled last night—the first real smile you’d seen from her in what felt like ages. The kind of smile that made your chest ache with memories of days when her laughter filled the air around you, unguarded and free.

Back then, there were no walls between you, no shadows of doubt hanging over every exchange. And now… now, for the first time in years, it felt like you were finding your way back to that place. To her. To what you had been before.

As you set the note down and picked up the chopsticks, a small smile tugged at your lips. She was right here with you, even when she wasn’t physically present. And maybe, just maybe, she was starting to believe in this again—in you, in both of you.

The breakfast she’d made tasted like home, each bite carrying with it a sense of care you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed.

As you finished your meal, you glanced at the note again, her words echoing in your mind.

“Don’t eat dinner alone. Wait for me.”

You leaned back in your chair, exhaling deeply. The apartment felt a little less empty now, the hope lingering in the air making everything seem lighter.

For the first time in a long while, it felt like the cracks in your relationship were starting to mend. Like you were no longer walking on separate paths but finding your way back to one another.

And for the first time, you felt certain that when she came home tonight, you’d be ready to meet her with the same hope and love she was slowly, carefully showing you again.

#minnie smut #gidle smut #male reader smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #smut #qwilorg #idle #minnie #idle smut #qwib-short-story #qwib-idle

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mononijikayu · 3 months ago

Text

what was i made for — gojo satoru.

You paused. “Even if that means you’re technically with someone else’s wife?” “Baby, I’m with you. Not your paperwork. Not your status. Just you.” He grinned, leaned across the couch, and kissed your cheek. “And besides, if I ever feel insecure, I’ll just buy you a vacation home to stroke my ego.” You rolled your eyes, but your heart softened anyway. “I already have a vacation home.” “And?” He raised a sly brow. “You can have another one. Again, I’ll buy you one. Pick whatever you like.” You become flustered. “You’re ridiculous.” “Yeah, I know. But you love me.” “.....That I do.”

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: nsfw!, r-18, afab! reader, use of she/her pronouns, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, love, fluff, humor, light-hearted, falling in love, long-term relationship, separation, healing, age gap, emotional, relief, doubt, profanity, drama, doubt, explicit, sexual intercourse, making out, scratching, biting, multiple orgasms, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, fingering, creampie, praising, bodily fluids, mention of bodily fluids, mention of trauma, mention of cheating, mention of sexual innuendos, depiction of sexual activities, actor! nanami, actor! gojo, housewife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 18k words

NOTE: this is probably the happiest chapter in the story. which means that something else will happen with time. there's about two or three chapters in this part of the story. toji's is almost finished too, but that takes time. we're about to see the end of the cheating au!!! thank you so much for reading it and loving my work and writing!!! i love you all so much~ see you in the next chapter!!! <3

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the good life ― masterlist.

THINGS MOVED ON SO FAST IN A BLINK OF AN EYE, YOU COULD HARDLY CATCH THEM. It’s been four years since you and Gojo Satoru began… whatever this beautiful whirlwind was. Love, romance, partnership, a second chance.

Many people can call it what they will, those who know behind the scenes. But you were certain that these few years were the best years of your life.

At first, it felt strange, even unfair that you were living these experiences without a care in the world. It was all like you were stepping into sunlight too soon after the storm. Yet the more you saw the smile on your face blossoming, the more your hand was warmed by Satoru’s own, you started to think that the strange feeling was gone.

Your amicable separation from your estranged husband Nanami Kento had been quiet, civil and weirdly calm. There were absolutely no fights.

There was no betrayal of confidence in that table, sitting across from each other in the home you once shared together. This was not what you expected for yourself after being married to him for nearly three decades. But that was just what it was.

You two were just people who grew apart, slowly and inevitably, like leaves falling from the same tree but drifting in different directions. Two miserable people who can’t bear to be miserable together any longer. This was for the best. At the very least, you both weren’t going to kill each other like that anymore.

Before long, you both were sitting in front of your lawyers and discussing everything. A legal agreement, a legal separation in a sense. Not yet divorce. That was what Kento and you had talked about at length that morning, after not seeing each other for a long time.

It wasn’t sentiment, exactly. Well, at least that’s what you like to think. Perhaps it was practicality, perhaps with a thread of stubborn care. Nanami Kento insisted on it. Even if you didn’t want anything to do with it at all.

“Kento, I do not want your money.” You shake your head at him. “The kids can have it.”

“Look, the law states that if something happens to me, as my spouse, you’re entitled to half. All of it!” Kento jabs a finger at the paper like it personally offended him. “To be honest, you have more entitlement to all of it than anyone else.”

You scoff. “That doesn’t mean I want it. I’m not some fortune-hunting widow-in-waiting. You knew that when we got married.”

“I do know that.” he snaps back, exasperated. “That’s exactly why I’m giving it to you.”

“Oh, well, thank you, Your Royal Highness.” you mutter. “Shall I curtsy, or do we just skip to the part where you fake your death and live in a cabin in Norway?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You still want to keep your little charity empire alive, right?”

“Yes, of course I do—”

“Well, surprise!” He cuts in smoothly, that old lawyer–glint returning to his caramel eyes. “The money for that comes from the fund tied to this account”—he wraps the page with his knuckle—“which, might I remind you, was created by us, for you. The only way it keeps going is if you take the damn money.”

You cross your arms. “Fine. But we’re only selling the main house. Not the summer or winter homes. The kids still love those. They’re the only places where no one cries during dinner.”

“That’s a done deal.” he says too quickly. “But I’m giving you the full sale from the main house. All of it.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Why does this sound like you’re trying to bribe me into being your ghost–wife?”

He sighs and crouches in front of you, resting his arms on your knees like a man about to confess a war crime. “Because I’m thinking about the long term. When I die—”

“Don’t say it like you’re ordering takeout, gosh.”

“—you get half of everything.” he continues, unbothered. “The kids get the other half. I’ve already set it up.”

There’s a beat of silence before you say flatly, “That’s a very unsexy way to say you still care about me.”

He grins, crooked. “I stopped trying to be sexy when we started arguing about hedge funds in our pajamas.”

You shake your head, trying not to smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, Nanami Kento.”

“And you’re the reason my accountant drinks.”

“Are you sure it’s not because of you?”

“I give him gifts.”

“I do too. That’s why you pay him double, don’t you?”

“Only because he likes you more than me.”

You both fall quiet in that moment, still looking into each other’s eyes. You could feel all of the tension shifting, even just slightly. A mutual understanding weaving through the sarcasm and legalese like it always has.

Finally, you sigh. “Fine. We’ll sell the main house. You keep your weird death–plan. I’ll take the fund. But if you die on me in the next five years, I am haunting you.”

“That’s fair.” He nods solemnly. “You’ll probably be a very stylish ghost.”

“Oh, I will be in heels.”

“Gosh, that blue eyed bastard rubbed on you too much.”

“I can say the same thing about your new play thing.”

“It’ll be over in five months. Don’t be ridiculous.”

You snickered at him. You let yourself sit back, arms crossed, legs tucked under you like a queen on her crooked little throne. “After all that and the cheating, Nanami Kento…..You and I really are better as friends.”

He flinches, just a little. Enough for you to notice. “You’re not gonna let that one go, huh?”

“Oh, I’ve let it go. That’s why I’m fucking your co–star.” you reply coolly. “Well, not all of it. There’s still some anger. Right into the bonfire of my dignity, along with your cufflinks and that hideous espresso machine your secretary picked out.”

He presses his lips together like he’s deciding between biting them or biting his own tongue. “That machine cost three grand.”

“And couldn’t even steam milk right. Fitting, really.”

Kento lets out a huff of something halfway between a laugh and a groan. “You know, it’s weird how you can make me feel guilty and impressed at the same time.”

“I’m gifted like that.” You tilt your head at him. “But you know I’m right. We were always better when we weren’t trying so hard to be something... storybook. Friends with a shared mortgage and matching towels was a lie we told ourselves to make brunch less awkward.”

He nods slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Yeah. Friends who actually like each other, instead of married people tolerating each other’s toothbrushes.”

“Exactly.” You pause. “No one tells you how quietly devastating that kind of cohabitation is. One day you’re in love. Next, you’re arguing about throwing pillows and whose turn it is to pretend they’re happy.”

Kento’s eyes soften. “I did love you. I hope you know that.”

You smile. It's sad and dry and a little crooked. “I know. I loved you, too. Just… not enough to live in a sitcom with a laugh track made of resentment for the rest of my life. Not after Satoru loved me so well.”

“I know.”

There's silence again, but it's the calm kind this time. The “I see you” kind. The kind that only comes after the worst of the storm passes and you’re standing in the wreckage, somehow still upright.

“So…” he says after a beat. “Do I still get to crash at the winter house when the city drives me crazy?”

“As long as you don’t bring any dates there.” you reply. “That’s the only ground rule. I won’t bring Satoru either. It’s just for us and the kids.”

“Deal.”

“And if you break that, I’ll have the kids hide your socks in the freezer. Actually, throw you in the river.”

He grins, standing up and offering you his hand like it’s some kind of truce. “You really are a menace.”

“And you dear fool….” you say, taking it. “You are tragically still in love with your ex-wife who has better taste in furniture.”

“Touché.”

You both laugh ever so earnestly, honestly. It was a sharp, honest, tired laugh and for the first time in a long while, it feels real. You knew it was. That was the last time you met him in a few years.

The kids see him still, to be sure. But not enough. They still aren’t on the best terms, after all. Though your estranged husband sends greetings and gifts, he keeps himself busy with project after project. But perhaps that was for the best.

Even after your paths diverged, he did as he promised and still funds your charity work. In fact, doubling what he has given over the years. And gave the money from the sale of the house. No questions asked. No comments. The wire transfers came in like clockwork. It was always clean, quiet, and consistent.

Gojo Satoru found out about it early on. You’d braced for a reaction. Almost anything from jealousy to disapproval. But he’d just blinked, snorted, and said:

“Well, it’s the least your absentee husband can do. Dude skipped out on being your soulmate, the least he can do is pay rent on your greatness.”

You laughed, surprised at how easily the tension melted away around him. “You’re not even the slightest bit weirded out?” you asked him once, months into your relationship.

Satoru glanced up from his phone, where he was reading something with that smug, unreadable look of his. “What, that your ex is still investing in your humanitarian ambitions? Please. If anything, I respect the hell out of that. He knows you’re worth betting on.”

You paused. “Even if that means you’re technically with someone else’s wife?”

“Baby, I’m with you. Not your paperwork. Not your status. Just you.” He grinned, leaned across the couch, and kissed your cheek. “And besides, if I ever feel insecure, I’ll just buy you a vacation home to stroke my ego.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart softened anyway. “I already have a vacation home.”

“And?” He raised a sly brow. “You can have another one. Again, I’ll buy you one. Pick whatever you like.”

You become flustered. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I know. But you love me.”

“.....That I do.”

There were days when guilt stirred quietly in your chest, especially when you caught yourself smiling at Satoru in the middle of an ordinary day. Just cutting vegetables in the kitchen, waiting in line for coffee, brushing your teeth side by side. That deep kind of joy felt… undeserved, sometimes.

But Satoru never made you feel like you owe anyone an apology.

He had a way of grounding you without anchoring you. He never demanded explanations. He never needed to be assured that he was loved. He just… was. He was everything you could ever dream of and more.

He was steady and unshaken. So sure that whatever you gave him. Your time, your touch, your quiet little smiles—it was more than enough. And maybe that was what made you love him more fiercely than you ever expected.

One morning, you stood at the stove in one of his oversized shirts, stirring miso soup while he wandered in half-awake, hair a chaotic mess of white and pillow–pressed waves. He slid behind you without a word, arms slipping around your waist. His face pressed into the crook of your neck.

“You smell like tofu and betrayal, baby.” he mumbled.

You laughed, leaning back into his warmth. “Betrayal?”

“I was supposed to wake up before you and impress you with breakfast. Now I have no choice but to pout dramatically for the next hour.”

You turned in his arms, spoon in hand, raising a brow. “We both know you were never going to wake up first.”

He gasped, pressing a hand to his heart like you'd wounded him. “I could have. If I believed in myself. And if you hadn’t drugged me with your love and a weighted blanket.”

“Maybe I’ll drug you again tonight.”

He smirked, eyes glinting. “Now that’s romantic, baby.”

But behind the jokes, the little routines, the comfortable touch of familiarity, you knew he saw it too, that quiet shadow in your eyes on some nights.

The way your tender gaze drifted just a second too long when Nanami Kento’s name was mentioned on the news. The stillness in your shoulders when letters came in with his name on the envelope.

You never talked about it much. Well, at least not directly. You found yourself curled up on the balcony with wine and a blanket between you, Satoru carefully nudged your knee gently with his. He looks at you with stars in his eyes, with love in his eyes.

“You don’t have to feel bad.” he said, not looking at you. “For loving someone who loved you well. That’s not a wound. That’s just… life. And you don’t have to tuck it away for me.”

You swallowed, the knot in your throat rising too fast, too suddenly. “I never wanted it to feel like I was splitting myself between you two.”

“You’re not, baby.” he said, finally meeting your eyes. “You’re here. With me. That’s all I need. What you shared with Nanami doesn’t take anything from what we have. If anything, it just proves you know how to love deeply. And I’m lucky you chose to do it again.”

Your eyes blurred, and he let you fall against him, his hand smoothing over your hair as if keeping you from falling apart entirely. “I didn’t think I could have this again.” you whispered.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “You can. And you do.”

And somehow, you believed him.

IT WAS A LOT, LEARNING HOW TO BE INDEPENDENT AGAIN. At that time, you bought your first apartment in a long while. It was supposed to be liberating—exciting, even.

A fresh start, a space all your own. But no one warns you that real estate hunting in the city is just emotional roulette with better lighting. The search was insane.

Open houses felt like war zones. Every place you liked had at least one dealbreaker: too exposed, too small, too haunted by the spirit of bad interior design. And the ones that ticked all the boxes? Snatched up in seconds by people with deeper pockets or better poker faces.

You were melting down daily. The need for privacy, for a place that didn’t come with a paper-thin wall and neighbors who fought like they were auditioning for a reality show.

It all felt like too much. You’d walk into listings and walk right back out two minutes later when you realized the "third bedroom" was actually just a glorified closet with a weird smell.

Enter: Satoru’s mother, Gojo Sasaki.

A force of nature in kitten heels, wielding real estate knowledge like a weapon of divine intervention. She insisted on tagging along “just to make sure no one sells you a shoebox and calls it a penthouse.” and thanked every deity you half-believe in that she did.

She brought snacks. She brought printouts. She brought energy. She fought brokers with a smile that could freeze lava and charmed doormen into giving her the real scoop on the building. And despite your initial protests, you were grateful. Deeply, surprisingly grateful.

You were sitting cross-legged in the back of yet another overpriced studio with water stains on the ceiling, staring blankly at the fake marble countertops when you sighed. “If I die here, tell the coroner I wanted better flooring.”

“I told you we should’ve skipped this one, sweetheart.” Satoru’s mother said, arms crossed, sunglasses still on indoors like she was ready to assassinate a broker if necessary. “That listing said ‘charming’ which we both know is code for ‘run.’”

You cracked a tired smile. “How do you always know these things?”

“Sweetheart, that’s simple.” she said, linking her arm with yours, “I survived three housing markets, two recessions, and your boyfriend’s rather stupid ‘minimalist’ phase. I know things. Now come on, we’re getting coffee and pretending this didn’t happen.”

You had no idea how you would've survived that apartment hunt without her. Satoru was off filming with Suguru for their big duo project. It was some morally ambiguous, slow–burn, guns–and–gloves drama where both of them looked like trouble and sin on-screen.

Which meant you were left with a string of missed calls, loving texts like “you find a place with a bathtub yet? asking for my muscles” and a FaceTime from a desert set where he looked like a mirage with eye bags.

So yeah, you were mostly on your own. Except... not really.

“Let me guess.” you said after touring a third apartment that day, this one with a layout that made no architectural sense. “They called this one something like blah blah blah modern oasis. Or something like that.”

“Open-concept disaster is more accurate, sweetie.” she replied, flipping through her printouts with a level of judgment only a mother–in–law could wield. “Also, did you notice the neighbors? That man with the parrot who said he sings at night?”

“He does. I heard him through the vents.”

“That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

You laughed, even as you leaned heavily against the hallway wall, overwhelmed. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

She looked at you then—not with pity, but with that calm, razor–sharp gaze Satoru inherited. “Yes, you can. You’re just tired. And stressed. And madly in love with my idiot son, who thinks sending you something called memes is emotional support.”

You choked on a laugh. “You noticed that too?”

“Oh honey. He sends me the same ones. I’m quite confused about them, but all the same it’s what it is.”

Eventually after a long search, you found it. Tucked on a quiet street, the sixth place on what had become your no chance in hell sort of day. A sunlit living room, solid walls, a balcony just big enough for four chairs and a wine night. You stood in the middle of the room, blinking like you'd been hit by soft light and maybe.

Satoru’s mom placed her hand on your shoulder. “This is the one.”

You swallowed. “Really?”

She nodded. “You already relaxed. You haven’t done that in weeks. Also, the plumbing is from this century. And sweetie, you can afford this. It’s good to lavish on yourself.”

You turned to her. “You think he’ll like it?”

She smiled. “He’ll love it. But more importantly, you do.”

When Gojo Satoru finally returned back to Tokyo, the first thing he did was come to your new home. It was hard to get everything ready by yourself but your kids and Sasaki–san helped out and got everything done just before noon. You wouldn’t have gotten anything done in time if you did it all by yourself.

Your beautiful boyfriend came with his messy white hair, voice still quite a bit hoarse from late–night reshoots. You smiled at him and helped him take off his coat. You put away his coat in the coat hanger as he bothers himself with the slippers you laid on the floor. When he was done, you let your lips pressed to his. He smiles into the kiss, deepening it.

“Well, that’s quite a welcome after a long day.” He whispers against your lips, when you both separate. “Happy about that.”

“Hm, you always are.” You whisper back, smiling back at him. “I’m glad you could come.”

“Of course. Any time with you is precious time spent.”

You giggle. “You always flatter me.”

“My girl deserves nothing but the best, you know?”

“Welcome to your part-time residence, babe.” you said to him, moving to give him his own set of keys. “No parrots from creepy rich old guys. No cursed plumbing. Room for your life–size cardboard cutout of yourself.”

He blinked, grinning. “Wait—you found it? Like this is it?”

“She did, with my mapping, of course.” his mother said, arms folded proudly. She had just come from the kitchen. She was making dinner for the three of you. “You could say this was the diamond in the rough, son.”

Satoru looked between you both, stunned. “I leave for a bit and suddenly she’s your daughter and I’m the in–law?”

“Oh, honey, definitely.” his mother purred. “In my mind, it was when you told me you liked her. That was twenty odd years ago. But I digress.”

“Duh, she’s my mom now, baby.” You snorted. “She’s part of the deal now. You lose me, you lose her.”

“Noted, we switched roles.” he said, pulling you into a kiss before turning to her. “So do I get a closet?”

“No.” you and his mother said in unison.

“Oh, come on! I gotta buy my own?”

“Son, that’s the least you can do.” His mother says as you and her hooked arms into the kitchen. “Pull your weight!”

“You tell him, ma!”

Gojo Satoru shakes his head. “I’m outnumbered now.”

“And don’t you forget it, honey!”

You started hosting dinners there, at first nervously, then with growing comfort. Satoru’s many friends who were loud, messy, chaotic in the best way began to fill your space with laughter, empty bottles of wine, and stories that tangled into the early morning hours.

They weren’t just his friends anymore. They became yours, too. And that has made you very happy. You hadn’t had friends in a very long time. Many had only been countless faces in the sea of your estranged husband’s stardom. Relationships in his world were fast paced. You hated it. But it was not the case with Satoru’s own pride. That you had adored so much.

Geto Suguru always offered to help with dishes, even if he did them all wrong. Ieiri Shoko brought a new dessert every time and left her lighter on your bookshelf without fail.

Haibara Yuu always complimented your cooking with such sincerity it made you blush, and Shoko’s girlfriend, Utahime Iori often stayed behind with you to help clean and vent about her day.

Gojo Satoru would lounge on your couch like he paid rent, socks mismatched and grin ever-present, always somehow finding the softest throw blanket before anyone else. He moved through your space like he belonged there, because he did.

It wasn’t official, not yet. There was no key permanently on his ring, perhaps that’s just going to be the case for a long long time. Yet he does not care. And neither did you. His presence clung to the place like sunlight caught in the curtains. It was warm, familiar, impossible to ignore.

Sometimes he’d show up late, well past midnight, hair still damp from the shower, smelling like hotel soap and whatever cologne Suguru dared him to wear that week. He never made a big entrance. Just a soft knock, or sometimes no knock at all. It was just a quiet door click and the shuffle of his sneakers.

He wouldn’t say much. Maybe just murmured his loving words to you before setting his bag down and collapsing onto the couch like gravity worked harder on him than anyone else. His head would find your lap within minutes. His breathing would slow the moment your fingers slipped through his hair.

“What are we watching?” he’d mumble, half-asleep.

“Something stupid.”

“Perfect.”

And that was it. That was the whole language between you some nights. And it meant to you more than anything in the world. This beautiful shared silence, the hum of the television, the weight of his trust resting quietly on your thighs. This was everything you had dreamed of for all those dark thirty years.

There was still a drawer in your bedroom that held unopened letters from Kento. There was still a part of you that carried the shape of another life. But Satoru never asked you to erase it. Instead, he brought light into the corners you didn’t know were dim.

He never rushed your healing, never tried to step into places that weren’t his. He just… waited. Patiently. Kindly. With that unwavering presence that made you feel safe without ever making you feel small.

Sometimes, in the hush of a Sunday morning, he’d make coffee before you even woke up, padding around barefoot with bedhead and the sleeves of his hoodie covering his hands. You’d find him standing by the window, sipping from your favorite mug like it was his, bathed in soft light, looking at peace.

He never said it, but you knew he liked being there. Not just visiting. You saw it in the way he knew where the sugar went, how he refolded the throw blankets without thinking, how he started bringing over books and leaving them by your bed.

Other times, he brought Sasaki–san with him. Announced only by the scent of pastries or expensive perfume. She’d breeze in with a tote bag full of skincare samples and gossip swiftly declaring to you words she said best.

“You look tired. Lie down. I brought a cooling mask and judgment.”

“I’m fine, ma.” you’d always say, even as she was already applying something that tingles in a concerning but oddly pleasant way. “Really.”

“Lying makes you puffy.” she’d reply firmly. “Come and be a good daughter and let me help care for you!”

When she didn’t bring him, she came alone happily. This was usually after one of his longer shoots. As if she knew the exact moments you needed a little something soft and strange to anchor you again.

She’d brew the fancy tea no one but her understood, talk about vintage cookware, offer unsolicited but accurate relationship advice, then leave like she hadn’t just recalibrated your entire emotional frequency.

There was one evening you found your boyfriend Satoru asleep in your bed, sprawled diagonally, stealing your side like a cat. His mother was in the kitchen, humming and slicing fruit with the precision of a surgeon.

“I go and change his position, ma.” you said, leaning in the doorway. “He’ll catch a cold.”

“Add a blanket, nothing more than that, sweetie.” she replied without looking up. “He only sleeps like that when he feels safe. Let him.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. Because he did. He was safe. And somehow, so were you. You stood there for a moment longer, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his hand had flopped over to your pillow like he missed you in his sleep.

His socks were still on. Still once more mismatched and rather dirty. One of his feet brutishly hung off the edge like he hadn’t quite figured out how to fit in a bed built for two. “He’s overworked again, isn’t he?”

“He snored loud a little earlier, so that’s true.” his mother added, casual as anything. “But only when he rolled onto his back. Suguru used to throw a pillow at him when they roomed together in their early days in the business. You could try that. Or just pinch his nose and pray.”

You snorted. “He’s lucky I love him.”

“He is lucky, sweetie.” she said, pausing to hand you a slice of apple, crisp and chilled. “But so are you. My son is a storm, but he doesn’t land where he doesn’t mean to.”

You took a bite. Sweet. Cold.

Sharp at the edge, like the things she never said out loud.

“I know.” You whispered to her tenderly. “I’m very lucky.”

Later, when she’d gone and the house had gone quiet, you slid into bed next to him, gently nudging him to scoot over. He murmured something incoherent, squinting one eye open. He looks at you, drooling.

“Mmm… 's it tomorrow already?”

“Almost. You’re on my side, you know.”

“Your side is warmer.”

“Because I warm it.”

He grinned sleepily, latching onto you like a koala. “Exactly.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You love me.”

You buried your fingers in his hair, resting your cheek against his. “Yeah. I really do.”

He looked at you softly. “You know, I used to think home was a place. But now I think maybe it’s just wherever you are.”

You didn’t answer right away.

Just reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

Because what do you say to something like that?

You’d stopped believing in forever a long time ago. But maybe this wasn’t about forever. Maybe it was about now. This sliver of time where you were both here, both whole, both willing to try. So you let him stay a little longer than that wrapped in your arms. You let yourself believe a little more.

A little while later, he was out again in seconds, breathing slow and steady. And you lay there, listening to the rain tap softly at the windows, his warmth bleeding into you, your heart quieter than it had been in years.

Both of you, safe. For once, completely and irrevocably safe.

PEOPLE HAD STARTED TO NOTICE EVERYTHING, WITH THEIR KEEN LITTLE EYES. Not just fans or critics, but colleagues, directors, interviewers who had worked with him for years.

Gojo Satoru had always been brilliant, undeniably talented, magnetic on screen. He was the kind of actor who could make silence feel like dialogue. But something had shifted in the air with him.

There was a new depth to his performances, a stillness beneath the chaos. Like he had nothing to prove anymore, just something honest to offer. A kind of clarity. Vulnerability. Everything had become more intense, more overwhelming, more real.

“He’s always been good to work with.” one director said in an interview. “But now he’s present. It’s like he finally stopped running like he’s running out of time. He’s started walking at a pace that he can feel leisurely about.”

“Oh definitely!” The actress he worked with smiled back at the director’s words. “Gojo–senpai really has become so much more of a human being, in a sense. It’s hard to explain. But there was just something about him these days.”

“Maybe he’s in love?” The interviewer posed to the cast and director, with a smile on her face.

“Or maybe he’s sleeping well.” Another actor snickered to the side.

“Maybe he’s earning more money!” The actress once again snides, earning laughter. “Bonus is upcoming, senpai! Be even more radiant!”

Besides that, people started to take notice of how he was no longer chasing project after project the way he used to. He still worked, still showed up, still delivered. But the rhythm was different now. Softer. More deliberate.

He took longer breaks between all the roles he’s been taking little by little, turned down parts he would’ve once jumped at with eagerness, and merely smiled unapologetically, bright eyed even, when asked about it in interviews.

“Life’s too short to never rest, you know?” he said once, shrugging. “And there are places I want to be. People I want to be with. Just gaining a new perspective in life lately.”

He was traveling more, and not alone. Sometimes fans would spot him in quiet corners of other cities. His hands tucked into his pockets, sunglasses low on his nose, walking next to you like the world wasn’t watching.

You were laughing beside him, or reading on a train while he leaned on your shoulder, or slipping your hand into his without fanfare. You had no worries in the world as you stood together with him as his equal.

There were photos of you both by the coast in Italy, wrapped in shawls and laughter. Or in Kyoto, at a food stall, faces lit by lantern light. Or somewhere quiet and nondescript, where only the lucky few realized who they were seeing and chose not to interrupt.

There were no worries about everything else either. Gojo Satoru held the media and the people with the palm of his hand. His fansites refuse to post anything about his private time, at his manipulative request accompanied by fan service. And his little text to Higurama Hiromi makes every headline go away.

No one knows and no one seems to care. That’s why you can say, your boyfriend just seemed lighter. Not in the way someone loses weight, but in the way someone puts something down. And everyone could see it, even if they don't know why.

But you knew everything too well. You knew everything the world didn’t. And that’s what mattered. You were the beginning and end of his happiness. That’s why he wasn’t escaping anymore. He was arriving.

He stopped talking about needing to disappear into a role to feel alive. Stopped measuring his worth by the size of the screen or the buzz of the press. Instead, he started asking questions like, “Do you want to stay another day?” or “What if we took the long way back?”

He started calling his agent less. Started denying any guest appearances left and right. Started singing and goofing around more. Started sitting in silence with you like it was a conversation worth having. Everything was done with you by his side.

Life lived like this had everything to do with stillness. With safety. With love that didn’t demand, but invited. It had everything to do with the nights he spent asleep with his head on your shoulder.

With the mornings you brought him coffee before he asked. With the apartment full of his friends who had become yours. With your laughter echoing through every room he’d once thought he’d only pass through.

You became the reason he didn’t need to run anymore. And he didn’t say that out loud all the time. He didn’t need to. But he told you in the way he looked at you when you weren’t watching. In the pictures he took of you on film, quietly, reverently. In this way he always waited to fall asleep until you were beside him.

Gojo Satoru hadn’t changed for the world. He’d changed because, for the first time, he didn’t have to be larger than life to be loved. He just had to be here. He can just be himself in the world locked away like this with you.

The villa was still. Except for the echoes of your heavy breathing and the soft creak of the mattress beneath you. Days had blurred into nights, or maybe it was the other way around. You didn’t know anymore. You can’t think straight.

You had no sense of time anymore, not with Satoru constantly between your legs, his hands all over you, his mouth pressed to your skin like he’d die if he stopped. And you let him. Hell, you craved it just as much.

You and Satoru in blissful isolation here in Switzerland. No paparazzi, no cameras, no media. It was just the two of you in a secluded villa where no one could see how utterly undone you had both become.

What started as innocent stolen moments quickly turned into madness you could only crave because of him. You hadn’t left the bed for days. You didn’t want to. There was no need to do so And he was happy to oblige. Pamper you with your wants.

Your body ached, raw from his touch. You could feel his teeth, his tongue, his fingers all over you. They were all too rough and brutish, but you didn’t care. The sheets were soaked, clinging to your damp skin.

Your thighs still trembled from the last time he was inside you, and yet, here you were again. On your back. On your stomach. Bent over. Under him. Over him. There was no end to it. You’d lost count of how many times he’d taken you, but your body kept begging for more.

"You’re crazy, baby." you gasped in nonsensical tones, your voice hoarse from the endless screams he’d pulled from you. Your nails dug into his back, his sweat-slicked skin hot and feverish beneath your touch.

Satoru just laughed, breathless, his bright blue eyes blown wide with something feral. His white hair stuck to his forehead, and his beautiful mouth was red and swollen from kissing you senseless everywhere and anywhere.

"And you're just as bad, aren’t you?" he rasped, his hand gripping your jaw to force your mouth open before his tongue slid inside. It was messy, all teeth and desperation, but it only made you dizzier.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pooling all the wetness of your bodies all around you. You kept pulling him deeper into you and you wanted more. You want him to overtake you. You needed it. You needed him. Your mind was gone, reduced to nothing but a hazy, animalistic desire to keep him inside you.

"Fuck, fuck. Baby, baby…..hoooooo…..hu—" you sobbed, arching against him as another orgasm barreled through you, unexpected and violent.

Your rigid body seized around him, walls fluttering as you felt his cock throb. But he didn’t stop — he never stopped. Not when he had you all for himself to pamper and to love. Even when you came, he kept moving like a man possessed. It didn’t help that you kept encouraging him too.

"You’re not tired yet, are you?" Satoru's voice was wrecked, but his grin was sinful. His hands tangled in your hair, yanking your head back so he could bite down on your throat, leaving yet another mark. "You can take it, can’t you, baby? My good girl can keep up, right?"

"You’re insane……" you gasped, but your hips still lifted to meet his thrusts, helpless under his touch. "We’ve been in bed for days."

"And I’ll keep you here for more if you let me." His teeth grazed your jaw, his hand sliding down your stomach until his fingers found your already oversensitive clit. You jolted, legs clamping around him, but he just chuckled darkly. "You’re not tapping out, are you?"

Tears burned your eyes from pleasure, from overstimulation, from the sheer intensity of it all. "Satoru—"

"I know, baby." He kissed you, swallowing your cries as his thrusts turned bruising. "I know."

Your nails raked down his back, leaving angry red marks bleeding all over, and his answering groan shot straight to your core. His grip on your waist tightened, possessive and desperate, like he couldn’t get deep enough.

"We’re so fucked up, aren’t we?" you whimpered, head spinning. "We haven’t left this bed—fuck…fuckkkkkk. W–we haven’t eaten—"

"Don’t need food, baby." he bit out, his pace rough and frenzied. "Need you. Only you, mmm…."

And you lost it. Again. Your body locked up, mouth open in a silent scream as another orgasm wrecked you, and Satoru followed seconds later, spilling inside you with a guttural groan.

But even after, he didn’t move away. He didn’t pull out. Instead, he collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy and grounding, and you felt his cock twitch again. Still hard and excited.

"You're fucking deranged, you bastard—what the fuck, you feel too good….." you whispered, your voice shaking. “You still feel so big, oh my god…..”

Satoru lifted his head, his grin dangerous and boyish all at once. "And you love it."

And you did. Because when his mouth dragged down your chest and his hands gripped your thighs again, you didn’t stop him. You spread your legs. You let him take you again. And again. And again. Until the sun rose and set and rose again and you still hadn’t left the bed.

Because he wasn’t done with you. And you weren’t done with him.

The air in the room was becoming more suffocating than ever before. It was highly toxic, thick with sweat, sex, and the sheer heat of your bodies colliding over and over again. You didn’t know how long it had been. Hours. Days. Time didn’t exist anymore. Not here. Not in this bed where Satoru refused to let you leave.

Your limbs felt boneless, pliant beneath him. Your voice was completely gone, too hoarse and too raw from screaming his name until you couldn’t anymore. Your throat burned, your entire body ached, and yet… you still wanted it.

Satoru hovered over you now, his face flushed, his white hair clinging to his forehead. His pupils were blown wide, eyes glazed with something primal. Something unhinged. He hadn’t let you go. Hadn’t let you leave this bed. Hadn’t stopped touching you. And you didn’t fight it, not once.

"You look ruined, baby." he rasped, his voice cracked from hours of panting and groaning your name. His thumb traced your swollen lips, still slick from his last kiss. "So pretty like this. All fucked out and begging me to keep going."

"I’m not—" your protest died the moment his hips snapped into you again, knocking the air from your lungs. Your back arched off the mattress, another shattered moan tearing from your throat. "Fuck, fuck…..Satoru, Satoru, what the fuckkkkkk……I can’t—"

"Yes, you can, baby." he cut you off, voice like gravel as he drove himself impossibly deeper. "You always can."

His hand found your throat, not tight enough to cut off your air but firm enough to make your head spin. "You think I’m stopping now? After everything we’ve done?" His grip tightened slightly, his pace punishing. "After the way you’ve been screaming for me like a little slut?"

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t form words. All you could do was feel. And God, you felt everything. The thick drag of him inside you, the sting of his teeth on your skin, the burn of your overstimulated nerves. You’d come too many times to count. The sheets beneath you were completely ruined, your legs trembling with each thrust. But he wouldn’t stop.

Did you even want him to?

"S–satoru….please, I’m close, I’m close. Give me….fuck—" you begged, your voice cracking, unsure if you were begging him to stop or keep going.

"Please, what?" His grip on your throat tightened, his other hand gripping your thigh so hard you were sure it would bruise. "Please fuck you more? Please don’t stop? Please fill you up again?"

Your eyes rolled back. "Y–you bastard—"

"Yeah, baby." Satoru growled, teeth sinking into your shoulder. "That’s what I thought."

It was insane, he was insane. The way he wouldn’t let you out of his grasp, the way his body was still ravenous for yours despite having already taken you more times than you could count. And he still wanted to take you more.

You felt his cum leaking out of you, sticky and hot. But it didn’t matter. Every time he finished inside you, he never let it go to waste. He’d push it back in with his fingers, murmuring, “Not done yet, baby. Can’t waste it.”

And here he was still hard, still fucking you like he was trying to break you. “Baby, you can do it. I know you can.”

"I can’t—I can’t…holy fuck….. babe—" you sobbed, tears pricking your eyes from the sheer overstimulation. Your body trembled, your legs kicking weakly, but he just growled and forced you to take it.

"Yes, you can. You did it already, didn’t you?" he snarled, his hand moving from your throat to your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His face was twisted in something dark, obsessive. Like he’d die if he didn’t keep you like this. "You’ve been taking it so well, baby. You think I’m letting you stop now?"

Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, your mind barely tethered to reality as his thrusts turned brutal. "I’m gonna break you, like you break me." he promised darkly, his tongue dragging up your jaw. "You’re gonna leave here and never forget how I fucked you like this. Never."

You sobbed, but your body betrayed you. It was another violent orgasm ripping through you, and your walls clenched so hard around him that he cursed, his hips stuttering. "Fuck! that’s it, baby. You take it all, it belongs to you. Fuck, fuck…..take it, all. Take it!"

Your body arched again, screaming his name, and you felt his cum spill inside you for what had to be the fifth time that day. But Satoru still didn’t stop. Even as you trembled and gasped, trying to push at his chest, he caught your wrists and pinned them above your head.

"I’m not done." His voice was wrecked, but his cock was still hard inside you. "I said I’m not done, baby."

"Satoru…please. I’m full of you.”

"You will." His teeth bared in a dangerous grin. "You’re gonna stay here, in this bed, until you can’t fucking walk."

And you believed him. Because the hunger in his eyes wasn’t fading — it was getting worse.

The moment you tried to push at his chest again, his grip snapped.

"Don't fucking do that, baby." Satoru growled, his hand flying to your throat again, pinning you hard into the mattress.

His cerulean eyes were wild, almost rabid, pupils dilated so far there was barely any blue left. His chest heaved, his cock still buried deep inside you, still hard, despite just filling you moments ago. "Don’t fucking push me away."

"I can’t —" your voice cracked, absolutely wrecked, tears streaking your face as your body spasmed beneath him. "Satoru, I can’t — I can’t take anymore —"

"Yes, you can." His grip on your throat tightened, his teeth bared like an animal. "I’m not done with you. You’re not leaving this fucking bed until I say you can."

Your body jerked as he pulled his hips back and slammed into you again. It was too deep, too hard, too much. Your scream was choked, his grip blocking the sound, and your eyes rolled back as another orgasm shattered you. Your thighs clamped around his waist involuntarily, but he didn’t let up.

"Fuck, yes," Satoru groaned, his head dropping back, white hair sticking to his sweat-slicked skin. "That’s my fucking girl—keep squeezing me like that. Fucking take it. Take all of it."

"Satoru — I —"

"What?" His hand released your throat only to grab your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His hips were still punishing, rutting into you like he’d die if he stopped. "You wanna stop? Huh? Is that what you’re crying for?"

You couldn’t answer. Your mouth opened, but only broken sobs fell out as your body twitched beneath him. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. Your brain was scrambled from overstimulation, but your body still craved him. It was like a drug you couldn’t quit.

"Nah, baby." Satoru’s voice was dark, twisted, and unrecognizable. "You don’t get to fucking quit. Not when you keep coming around my cock like this — you like it. You fucking love it. Look at you."

Your eyes were blurred with tears, but you couldn’t look away. His face was pure madness. Everything about him was flushed. You could see his teeth gritted, brows furrowed as his eyes bored into yours with deranged obsession. Like he was watching you come apart and thriving off it.

"Satoru, the butler’s going to come soon! H–he said he’ll bring up supper! Y–you…fuck! You heard him on the phone earlier!” you choked out, voice cracking. "We….we have to stop—"

A laugh fell from Satoru’s lips, his grip on your jaw bruising. “Baby, don’t worry. Do you think they’ll care?" His thrusts got harder, splitting you open again and again, like he wanted to break you. "You think they’ll care about me making love to the love of my life?”

"Satoru—"

"Let him watch, if he wants.”

Your body froze. "W-what?"

"You heard me." His voice was eerily calm, but his grip on your jaw trembled with fury. "If he walks in here and sees you like this and sees you all fucked out and dripping with my cum , let him watch.”

“That’s….Satoru….You—” Terror shot down your spine, but it was overshadowed by the way his words only added to the arousal building in your gut again. "Y–you’re insane!"

"I know." Satoru grinned, manic and unhinged. "I fucking know. And I don’t care. Let him stare. That’s all they’ll ever get. But baby, I get to love you like this for the rest of our lives. I don’t care if they all stare.”

“Satoru, you’re being an….fucking…..idiot!” You croaked to him, your nails digging harder against his back. Arousal tightening against him. “You’re….fucking…..fuckkkkk.”

"I don’t care babe!" His hand flew to your thigh, spreading you wider, shoving himself deeper into you, making your back arch from the intrusion. "I don’t care what they do. You’re mine now. ‘m yours too. That’s all that matters. You get that, baby?

"Satoru. Fuck you, you brat—”

"Say it, baby." His hand left your thigh and grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him again. "Fucking say it. Say you’re mine."

Your stomach twisted. Your mind was unraveling. "I’m yours….fucking yours."

"Louder." He bottoms down, slowing a little bit, to hear your words clearer.

"I’m yours.....Fucking yours, only yours.....Fuck, fuck, you’re getting deeper…..and….and fucking hell, you’re fucking mine. You fucking hear me? Fucking mine, you…you bastard!"

"I’m fucking yours, babe. Forever and ever. How’s that sound?” He starts once again, moving deeper and then picking up the pace. “Love it babe. Love it.”

"You….you better fucking do.” You groaned loudly, wrapping your legs higher, meeting his thrusts at the fastening speed.

“Of course, I do.”

You bit his neck, tighter and tighter. “G–good….you bastard. Fuck, more. More, Satoru. Deeper…..fucking deeper!”

His groan was visceral, chasing your command with all he could. Your lover had become more animalistic than before. His mouth devoured yours, tongue shoving in deep, teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip until you tasted blood. His thrusts turned inhumane and accursed, like he was trying to carve himself so deeply inside you that you’d never forget.

"That’s it, fuck. You’re perfect. You’re my everything." he panted against your lips. "That’s my fucking girl. Mine. Fucking mine…..I’ll kill anyone who touches you. I swear to fucking god, baby….I’ll kill for you. Anyone, anything. Just to have you with me."

And you believed him. Because the unhinged, murderous look in his bright blue eyes wasn’t pretend. You knew it was real. Gojo Satoru had officially snapped. Days locked in this villa with you, keeping you in bed, not letting you leave. It had broken something inside him. And now he couldn’t stop.

"Satoru….fuck, fuck, babe. I can’t anymore…..I’m gonna come!"

"Again." His hand slapped your thigh. "Come again. I wanna feel you fucking milk me dry, baby. Don’t stop—"

"I can’t, you’re too….fuckkkkkk, fuckkkk….You feel good.” You cried and cried, weeping as you held him tighter, feeling euphoria you had never thought before possible.

"Yes, you fucking can."

And you did. You came so hard you almost blacked out. Your vision blurred, your body convulsed, and your mouth opened in a silent scream. And the second you did, Gojo Satoru had his final stand off.

"You fucking feel so good. Fuck, fuck, baby." His hands bruised your waist, his cock jerking deep inside you as he spilled again. It was once more hot, thick ropes of cum that filled you to the brim. “Fuckkkkkkk!”

Your entire body arched, twitching as his thrusts stuttered, grinding deep as if he was trying to force his seed even deeper. "Shit, baby…..you’re so full of me….Fuck, baby, I can’t stop wanting to fill you good!"

And he didn’t. Even after he came, his cock didn’t go soft. He just kept thrusting, fucking his own cum back inside you, his mind completely broken. “Satoru, you’re—”

"I’m gonna put a baby in you, baby." Satoru panted wildly, his voice dripping with obsession. "You hear me? I’m gonna keep you here….I’m gonna fuck you until you’re full of me. I’m gonna put a fucking baby in you.”

"Satoru, baby…..I’m full of you, fuck!”

"Mine, mine, mine—"

And you couldn’t escape his tightening hold.

Because the terrifying part was a truth you didn’t say out loud.

You didn’t want to part from it all.

THE SHOWER WAS MUCH NEEDED TO BE SURE. And you were lucky to shower before the butler actually arrived. He hadn’t shown up just yet. And that was a relief to you.

You had hit Satoru for a while, because you were flustered coming to your senses, knowing a man could have seen your partner fucking you well. Satoru merely laughed.

You can only thank whatever higher power had mercy on your debauched souls. You both needed at least ten minutes to pretend you hadn’t been trying to devour each other since sunrise.

The air in the bathroom was thick with steam, clinging to your skin like a second, hotter layer. The mirrors were already fogged up, the scent of expensive soap and something headier. The sweat, breath, skin were all just hanging in the air.

But neither of you noticed. Not really. Not with your chest heaving and your back against the cool tile, and Satoru’s mouth still tracing the shape of your jaw like he was mapping it for memory.

Your legs were trembling, practically useless, so he held you there with a firm grip around your hips, his broad frame still pressed to yours like he hadn’t decided to let you go yet.

“I was a little rough, wasn’t I?” he murmured, voice low and scratchy from the things he'd groaned into your ear an hour ago. He pressed a kiss just below your ear, then another to your collarbone. “Sorry, baby. Got carried away.”

You laughed, breathless, fingers sliding through his damp hair. “You say that like I didn’t scratch half the skin off your back.”

He chuckled, low and pleased. “You did. It was hot.”

“You were hot, ‘toru.” you corrected, tilting your head back as he kissed a new bruise blooming near your neck. “Still are.”

He hummed against your skin. “You bit me. Hard.”

“You liked it.”

“I love it very much.” he said with a grin that made you squeeze your eyes shut from the sheer intimacy of it. “I love everything you do to me.”

Your fingers ghosted over the angry red lines down his shoulders. “I should apologize too.”

“For what?” he whispered, thumb brushing under your chin to lift your face back to his. “Making me lose my mind? Making me say filthy things into your ear until you forgot your name? No, baby. Don’t apologize for that.”

You shivered at the memory, skin still tingling, still tender in places. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re irresistible, baby.” he replied, as if it were a fact of nature. Then softer, almost reverent, he added, “You should see yourself right now. Hair wet, skin flushed, legs still shaking. You ruin me.”

You swatted his chest, not with any real force. “We have at least ten minutes before the butler arrives, Satoru.”

“Plenty of time, baby.” he said without missing a beat, already reaching for the shampoo like this was normal. Like he hadn’t just wrecked you and then made it romantic.

You huffed, leaning your forehead against his chest, his warmth anchoring you to the moment. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m in love with you.” he whispered, fingers combing through your hair like you were something delicate and sacred. “That’s even worse.”

And just like that, the steam wasn’t the only thing making the room feel so impossibly full. So soft. So much. You let out a quiet laugh at his words, closing your weary eyes as the water poured over both of you.

“Then help me not look like I just crawled out of your bed, and maybe the butler won’t quit.”

“No promises, baby.” he smirked. “But I’ll try.”

“Hm, so will I.”

“Give me five minutes, baby.” he breathes into your ear, voice thick with heat and mischief.

His lips ghost along your skin like he’s trying to brand you with just his breath. The warmth of his words, the low timbre of his tone. It’s almost worse than the hands that haven't left your body since you stepped out of the shower.

Your cheeks flush instantly, the color blooming high and hot, because you know exactly what five minutes means in Gojo Satoru’s language. And it’s never five. Ever. You know your lover way too well for that.

“Actually… just two minutes, at the very least.” he amends, already trailing kisses down your neck like a man possessed. “You don’t even need to do anything. Just… let me.”

“Satoru…” you gasp, voice catching as his fingers slide between your thighs again, slow and certain, right where you’re still sensitive. Still aching, still trembling from the last time you told him you couldn’t go again.

Your whole body jolts in response, hips twitching before you can stop yourself. You press your hand to his chest, not to push him away, but to ground yourself. Because you can’t. Not again. Your body is begging for a break, but your heart is already folding.

“Stop, baby…” you plead softly, breath hitching. “I can’t…”

But he’s already pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth, his nose brushing your cheek as he whispers, almost reverent, “We’ll actually eat after, I promise.”

He’s grinning—smug and beautiful and completely unrepentant. “Just one more, baby.” he murmurs like a prayer. Like a devil luring you into a sin you both know you’ll never regret. “Please.”

And the worst part is that you always give in.

You always believe him. Even when you shouldn’t.

And unfortunately, you become as playful as him.

You shudder, legs already weak, caught in that hazy middle place between resistance and surrender. And Satoru knows it. Feels it in the way your breath stutters, the way your fingers curl around his wrist instead of pushing him away.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder, then your collarbone. “You always say you can’t. But you always let me make you feel good anyway.”

You turn your face into his neck, heart racing, teeth pressing into your lip to suppress the moan building too fast in your throat. “That’s because you don’t play fair.”

He huffs a soft, sinful laugh against your skin. “I never promised to.”

That’s why lately he seemed… happier. You indulge him, you keep him happy. You humor him. You accept him whole. You love him whole. And just as much you let him do all that for you too, you let him have devotion complete him and his life. You let him have happiness.

This is not the kind of happiness that makes headlines or gets captured in flashbulbs. Not the showy, curated kind. But something quieter. More grounded. More secure. The way his shoulders sat lower. The ease in his laugh. The glow that didn’t come from lighting or makeup, but from something, someone, steady beneath the surface.

He looked well-rested, too. For once.

Like he’d finally given himself permission to breathe.

And in his interviews, something had changed.

He spoke more deliberately now, less performative and more open. And when the conversation drifted toward love, because it always did, eventually, he no longer danced around it with jokes or vague metaphors.

Instead, he’d smile, tilt his head a little, and say things like: “Love is showing up, I think. Over and over. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s quiet.”

Or: “It’s not always fireworks. Sometimes it’s knowing someone remembers how you take your tea, or what song makes you cry. That kind of thing stays.”

And every time, every time, the world would erupt with speculation. The tabloids would buzz. Fans would dissect every word, every glance, every new piece of jewelry or change in wardrobe, wondering who it was.

Who had Satoru Gojo fallen in love with?

But you knew. You knew it in the way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention, like he was memorizing you. In the notes he left tucked into your books. In the quiet gratitude in his voice when he’d say: “Thanks for waiting up, baby.” or “I missed this so much, baby.” like it was a confession.

You didn’t need the world to know. Not really. Because when he said “she grounds me with everything.” on a late-night talk show, or “I didn’t know I could be loved like this, you know?” in a magazine profile, you knew it all too well.

He was talking about you.

You knew, every single time—it was you.

And there will only ever be you.

When he talked about the way love had softened him, made him better, you remembered the quiet evenings on your couch, your fingers carding through his hair while he let himself fall asleep without armor for once. You remembered the mornings he spent reading next to you in bed, his knee brushing yours under the covers, like even in sleep, he needed to know you were close.

So when he said in that glossy cover story: “It’s not the kind of love that makes you lose yourself. It’s the kind that hands you back to yourself, steadier.”

It wasn’t just a beautiful quote. It was a memory. It was true. It was you, pressing a kiss to his temple when he told you he was afraid of not being enough anymore. It was you, reminding him that he could be tired, that he could be soft, that he could be held, and the world wouldn’t fall apart because of it.

When he looked directly into the camera during a premier night red carpet and laughed shyly after being asked if he was in love and then said: “Yeah. I think I’ve been for a while. I just didn’t know what to call it at first.”

God. You knew. You were the only one who saw him on the in-between days, when he wasn’t glowing under studio lights or basking in the glow of red carpets. You were the one who listened when he questioned himself, who stayed when he asked for space but didn’t really want to be alone.

He spoke of her, you, like a story he’d lived into. Not a fantasy, not an escape. A real thing. A grounding thing. And maybe he didn’t say your name. Maybe the world would never know exactly who he meant when he smiled a little too softly, when he looked down and mumbled something private in the middle of an interview, like the memory was too precious to speak aloud.

But you knew. You knew it in the way he always texted you afterward, even if it was just a heart emoji or a blurry photo of his dressing room mirror. You knew it in the voice messages at the end of the day—tired, warm: Hey, did you watch it? Was I weird? I thought about you when they asked that love question.

You were the thread in every word he spoke about gentleness, about coming home to someone who made him feel safe in a world that never quite let him rest. The world could guess all they wanted. Whisper, speculate, make charts and guesses and fandom theories.

But the truth was never in question. Because the way he looked at you when he walked through your door after a long trip, when his whole body exhaled just from seeing you standing there—it told you everything. It was always you.

YOU WERE SATISFIED WITH YOUR LIFE, TRULY. There was warmth in your days that you never thought you’d ever find for yourself. It was quiet, earned happiness. The home you’d built was full of laughter and good food and people who loved you deeply.

Gojo Satoru’s hand always finds yours, even in sleep. Your children, growing into themselves with humor and kindness, called or visited often, always bringing noise and stories and that joyful kind of chaos that only family can.

You had friends. You had peace. You had enough. And yet. There was this ache. Soft, but persistent. Like a door inside you that had never fully closed. You knew what it was. You always had. You wanted to be a chemist.

You’d wanted it for so long that it had once felt like a part of your blood, your breath, your blueprint. You used to dream in formulas, used to feel your hands itch for glassware and lab notes. The thought of discovery used to thrill you. It was not for acclaim or prestige, but for the simple, sacred magic of understanding how the world worked, molecule by molecule.

But life has taken you on other roads. Beautiful ones, no doubt, but different. Detours that became destinations. You made choices, built a life. You found love, more than once. You became a mother.

You learned how to hold a family together, how to cook three meals while writing deadlines pressed down on your back, how to be present, even when your dreams whispered from another room.

And now, in your late forties, that dream felt far away. Like something belonging to a younger version of yourself. A version who hadn’t known grief yet. Who hadn’t learned how to compromise. Who hadn’t yet fallen in love with other things. With books, people, seasons, the slow beauty of an ordinary afternoon.

But still, it pulled at you. You kept circling the idea. Clicking on courses. Watching lectures late at night. Making excuses not to apply. Then reopening the tab again in the morning. You told yourself it was too late.

Your children didn’t agree.

“Why not?” Keiko asked you once, over coffee, her voice gentle but firm, like she was already anticipating your excuses. She stirred sugar into her cup absently, but her eyes never left yours. “You tell us we can be anything. Why not you, mom?”

You opened your mouth to respond, to say something witty or self-deprecating, to laugh it off the way you always did. But nothing came out. Because Nanami Keiko had always been sharp, always seen through you, even when she was little. She didn’t ask questions unless she already knew the truth behind them.

Kenshin was sitting across from you, legs sprawled out like he still hadn’t outgrown the teenage habit of taking up too much space. But he looked up from his phone then and nodded without hesitation.

“Yeah, Mom.” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I’m sure Tokyo University will let you come back. You donate so much to everything there. Plus….You’re, like, crazy smart. You always will be. Plus, they’re probably waiting for someone like you to shake things up a little.”

You snorted into your tea, shaking your head. “I’d be twice the age of my classmates. Maybe more.”

“So?” Keiko shrugged. “You always say learning doesn’t expire.”

You laughed then. A reflex. An instinct. The kind of laugh that was meant to deflect, to soften the edges of the truth they were gently pushing toward you. But their words stayed with you, as your words with them.

They lingered like a dare. Like a blessing. Like two mirrors held up to you from either side of the table, showing you what they saw: someone capable. Someone worth investing in. Someone who could. And it rattled you, in the best way. You realized you raised your kids too well.

For years you’d told them those words: dream big, work hard, don’t let anyone else define your path.

You said it when they doubted themselves, when their grades dipped, when the world was loud and cruel and uncertain. You said it because you believed it with your whole heart. But you hadn’t applied it to yourself. Not in a long time.

Your beloved Keiko and Kenshin weren’t challenging you out of impatience or pressure. There was no timeline, no ultimatum, no “you should have done this years ago.” — not a single peep of judgment or malice.

There was only love.

There was only faith.

There was only joy.

Only the gentle belief that you were still allowed to want things. And that belief, their belief cuts through all the noise in your head. You were sure that you felt it in your heart that other than leaving your horrible marriage, raising your kids was the other best thing you’ve ever done.

It made you wonder what it would feel like to walk back through the doors of that university, older, yes, but also fuller. To sit down with a blank notebook and a sharpened pencil and write your name on the first page.

Not just as a mother, not as a partner, not as a caretaker or host or writer or planner but just as you. No prefixes. No titles. Just the version of yourself who still dreamed. The one they still believed in.

Gojo Satoru, too, had noticed.

Of course he had, easily.

Your partner was just the best with that.

He noticed everything about you. Not just the way your eyes sparkled when you were laughing, or the way your breath hitched slightly when you were moved but the smaller, quieter tells. The ones even you didn’t always catch.

Like how your posture subtly straightened whenever a science documentary came on, how you instinctively leaned forward, completely absorbed, mouthing terms under your breath. Or how you paused mid-chop in the kitchen to rant about a show getting a chemical process wildly wrong, then blinked in surprise when he started grinning at you.

“You were listening?” you’d asked, half–sheepish. You shook your head. “Figures.

“Obviously. I’m that type of guy, baby.” he said. “You’re way more fun than the actors pretending they know what ‘stoichiometry’ is.”

So one night after a long day of promotion work, unannounced, in the middle of an otherwise ordinary evening—your boyfriend brought home a box. You looked at him confused, but he was just smiling from ear to ear.

Wrapped in paper with tiny molecules printed across it, like he’d gone out of his way to make it thoughtful, not just playful. Inside: a beginner’s chemistry set. Nothing fancy. Just enough glassware and compounds to spark something familiar.

You laughed when you opened it, touched but amused. “Satoru, babe.” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me I need a hobby?”

He shrugged, a little too casual. “Just seeing if the lab spark’s still there.” Then he smiled, that sideways, dimpled grin that always softened you. “Spoiler alert: it is.”

He said it like a certainty. Like he already knew what you were still trying to believe.

Because the truth was, you weren’t unhappy. Your life was full. Deep. Rich with love and memory and purpose. But beneath it all was a piece of yourself you had tucked away for safekeeping, like a glass vial labeled Someday. A part of you that had never been extinguished, only shelved.

Quiet.

Patient.

Unforgotten.

You used to think you’d outgrown that dream. That it belonged to the younger, hungrier you—the one who used to pull all-nighters solving problems no one had assigned, the one who found poetry in equations.

But maybe… it wasn’t about outgrowing it. Maybe that dream had simply needed time. Maybe it had been waiting for you to become the person who could return to it without fear. Who no longer needed it to prove anything, but could pursue it purely for the joy of becoming.

Because now you know things your younger self didn’t: How to endure. How to love. How to begin again.

And maybe, just maybe, now was exactly when you were meant to start.

Yet you did not start just yet.

The doubt was too much of a sinner.

YOU THOUGHT ABOUT IT LONG AND HARD. And it was all over your head these few weeks. You were pretty sure your partner knew that too. How could he not, when he was the one that knew you this well?

The air between you and Satoru was thick with the kind of silence that only followed moments of true intimacy. It wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet, but a content one. It was the kind that lingered after everything had been said in quiet gasps and tender touches.

Your bodies had tangled together with ease, finding that familiar rhythm, that soft, perfect connection that existed between the two of you. The sheets, half-draped across your bodies, barely covered the curve of your waist, and Satoru’s arm was slung lazily across you, like he had no intention of ever moving again.

It felt like a moment frozen in time—a pause before the world outside crept back in.

Through the gentle hum of the night, the rain outside tapped lightly against the windows, its rhythm matching the pulse of your heart, calm and steady. The sound of it brought a kind of peace to the room, as though the universe itself was holding its breath with you, waiting for something. Or maybe, it was just you who was waiting.

You turned your head, just enough to catch the faintest gleam of his silver lashes against his cheek. The peace on his face was so unmistakable, so deeply serene, that you almost didn’t want to disturb it.

You wanted to stay there forever, just existing in this little bubble of warmth and stillness. But the thought was there, persistent, tugging at you like an unspoken word at the edge of your mind. It had been there for days, weeks even, and now, in this tender moment, it finally found its voice.

“I was thinking about school again, ’toru.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. It felt almost like a confession. It was something soft and vulnerable, spilling out as if it had been quietly waiting for permission to be heard. “About… coming back to….maybe try it again.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and delicate all at once. You didn’t look at him right away, unsure of how he might respond. You weren’t sure you were even ready to hear it, but they were out now.

Satoru’s response was instant. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light of the room as they locked onto you with that spark in them that always made you feel like he saw the whole of you. He blinked, like he was still waking up from something deeper than sleep, and then his face shifted into an expression of pure warmth.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice husky with sleep, still filled with that post-intimacy softness that only made him sound more sincere. He propped himself up on his elbow, his fingers brushing across your skin absently, a touch that was both casual and intimate. “That’s amazing. You should go for it.”

There was that enthusiasm again, that effortless support you’d come to count on from him. It made your heart flutter, but it also made you feel like you were suddenly on the edge of something big. It was a precipice you weren’t sure you were ready to stand on.

You stared up at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. You wanted to believe in it, wanted to feel that same excitement he was projecting, but it felt distant, like a dream that wasn’t quite your own.

“I don’t know…” The words slipped out, coated with uncertainty.

“No, really.” he continued, not missing a beat, his voice softening into something almost pleading now, like he couldn’t understand why you were second–guessing yourself. “You’ve been talking about this for so long. You light up whenever it comes up, babe. I think you should do it. What’s stopping you?”

He wasn’t wrong. Every time you spoke about it, about chemistry, about the passion you once felt….It was as if a light flickered in your eyes, the old flame rekindling in ways you hadn’t realized. He understood better than anyone. He loved chemistry too, as much as he loved you.

But hearing him say it so simply, so assuredly, made it feel like you were being asked to jump into something that you didn’t know how to approach. You flinched slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around your chest, a physical barrier that mirrored the one in your mind.

“I just…” You paused, your heart starting to thump harder, louder in your chest.

The vulnerability you hadn’t expected to feel in this moment surged, and you couldn’t shake the sense of fear creeping in. “I don’t know if I’m ready. It’s been so long. What if it’s too late? What if I can’t keep up, or I’ve forgotten everything? What if it’s a waste of time? A waste of—”

Before you could continue, Satoru’s hand found yours, his touch gentle, grounding. “Hey, baby.” he murmured, his voice full of quiet understanding. “It wouldn’t be any of that. And you wouldn’t be doing it alone. You’d have all of us. It’s me, the kids, everyone. You’d be doing something for you, and that’s—”

His words, full of love and unwavering support, cut through the panic building inside you, but it wasn’t enough to calm the storm that was rising in your chest. You needed space. You needed time to think, not in the middle of this moment.

“I’m tired, babe.” you said, cutting him off with a sharpness that you immediately regretted. The words were out before you could catch them, but they were there, ringing in the air between you. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, but it was palpable. Satoru’s hand stilled in yours, and for a moment, you both just lay there, the weight of your emotions settling between you like a gentle fog.

He was quiet, not pushing you, not questioning your need for space, but still present. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just… aware. He sighed, a soft sound that was more for himself than for you, and nodded slowly, pulling away just a fraction, giving you room to breathe.

“Okay, baby.” he said quietly, his voice full of the kind of understanding that only came from years of knowing someone deeply. “Tomorrow.”

You didn’t mean to push him away, but you needed this. You needed a moment where the dream was just that. It was a dream, not a pressure. One night where you didn’t have to make any decisions. Where you could just breathe and let things settle.

And Satoru, as always, understood. He didn’t pull away completely. Instead, he curled back around you, his body molding against yours, a comfort. His lips pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, a promise of patience, of waiting.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby.” he whispered into the quiet of the room, his words a balm, a gentle reassurance. “I’ll be here.”

And you knew that he meant it. In the way he said it. In the way he held you. He wasn’t rushing you. He was just there. The silence between you and Satoru lingered, but it was no longer filled with tension.

Instead, it was a comfortable kind of quiet, one where the weight of the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in the warmth of your shared space.

The rain outside had softened into a gentle patter, a lullaby that seemed to carry away the restless energy from the conversation that had almost been too much too soon.

Satoru’s arm draped over you once more, his fingers grazing the curve of your waist in a gesture that was equal parts tender and possessive. It was his way of showing you, without words, that he was still here. Still present.

His warmth seeped into your skin, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft rhythm that mirrored your own breath. You felt the cool touch of the night air against your skin.

But there was something about the quiet intimacy of the moment that made everything feel safe, like you could be anything, do anything, and still be loved. Even your doubts, the ones that had clouded your thoughts for weeks, seemed less urgent now. Not gone, but softened—held in the gentle care of his presence.

“I know you want it, baby.” Satoru said softly, breaking the silence, his voice low, almost a murmur. “And I know you can do it. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. Don’t let fear keep you from something you’ve always wanted.”

You shifted slightly, turning to face him, finding his gaze already fixed on you, those familiar blue eyes filled with understanding and something more. A quiet conviction. A belief in you that went beyond your own self-doubt.

“I just… I don’t know if I have it in me anymore. I’m not the same person I was when I first dreamed of it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the vulnerability creeping in once more. “I’m not sure I’m still that person.”

He leaned in, his forehead pressing gently against yours, a subtle, intimate gesture that made your heart flutter. His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, his voice soft but steady. He takes a moment before speaking.

“You’re still you, the same person with the same fire. You don’t lose that. Not even if you take a break for a while. It’s still there, waiting for you to reach for it again. All you need to do is trust it.”

You let out a slow breath, the weight of his words sinking in. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to take that step, to push past the fears and doubts. But there was something so terrifying about the unknown, about putting yourself out there again after all this time. What if you weren’t good enough? What if it was too late?

But then Satoru shifted slightly, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a kiss so gentle it felt like a promise. "And no matter what, I'll be here. With you, every step of the way. You don't have to do it alone."

The sincerity in his voice was enough to calm the panic swirling inside you. He meant it. You knew he did. And maybe that was what you needed to hear. Maybe that was all you needed, the reassurance that no matter where this journey took you, you wouldn’t be walking it by yourself.

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Tomorrow, then, ‘toru.” you whispered, the uncertainty still there, but tempered by something more—something that felt like courage, hidden under the layers of fear and doubt.

“Tomorrow.” Satoru echoed softly, his lips pressing to the crown of your head, holding you close, as if grounding you to this moment.

And in that moment, you knew that no matter how many times you doubted yourself, no matter how many times you felt like you weren’t enough or that it was too late, there would always be someone by your side. Someone who believed in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself.

And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe, too.

THE EVENING UNFOLDED LIKE A DREAM. It was the kind of night that felt like it was tailor-made for memories. It was your fourth year anniversary, and Gojo Satoru had whisked you away to a private, elegant restaurant he’d rented out for the two of you.

The place was intimate, with soft candlelight flickering across the tables and the hum of classical music playing in the background. The meal was incredible, an array of dishes that felt like an orchestra of flavors. Each bite seemed to deepen the connection between the two of you, like a conversation without words.

You laughed, you talked about everything and nothing. There were moments where Satoru would look at you with that mischievous smile of his, and you would feel your heart flutter as if the world hadn’t shifted, as if time hadn’t passed. You were still the same. He was still the same. And the love between you. Well, that had only deepened.

As the night wound down, the sky outside had darkened into a rich navy, the moon casting a soft glow across the horizon. You were both standing, preparing to leave, when Gojo Satoru stopped you with a soft word.

“I have a surprise for you, baby.” he said, his voice carrying the familiar warmth, but there was something else in it. Something a little more serious, a little more solemn. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes, those piercing blue eyes, held a quiet intent. “Come with me.”

You followed him out into the cool evening air, the glow of the restaurant fading as you walked toward a sleek black car that was parked nearby. He opened the door for you, helping you in with a grin that made you wonder what kind of surprise he had in store.

The drive was short, but there was a palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air. You couldn’t help but feel like something big was about to happen, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

It wasn’t like Satoru to keep secrets. At least, not ones that didn’t involve teasing you in playful ways. But this felt different. Finally, the car came to a stop, and Satoru turned to you with a knowing look, a hint of something serious flickering in his eyes.

“Wait here, okay?” he said, before stepping out and disappearing into the dark.

Moments later, he returned with something in tow. Two large suitcases, their zippers securely fastened, the weight of them making his stride a little slower than usual. He set them down in front of you, his expression soft but unreadable.

“What’s this?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Satoru knelt down beside the suitcases, unzipping them one at a time. When the first one opened, you could hardly believe your eyes. Piles of cash, stacked neatly in bundles, filled the case to the brim. Your breath caught in your throat.

“What is all this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you were seeing things correctly. “Satoru….Oh my god.”

He reached into the suitcase, pulling out a thick stack of bills, his fingers brushing the edges of them as though they were delicate things. He smiles at you, with so much pride. That pride that could only be as pure as the driven snow.

“This is what you think it is.” he said to you tenderly. “This is the money you gave up for me. To help me escape. To get me away from my mother. The money you sacrificed when you helped me study, when you gave me a chance at a life outside of the abuse and everything that held me back.”

He paused, looking up at you, his face hardening slightly, as if the weight of it was just now hitting him. “This is the money you gave up for me to leave everything behind. And tonight, I’m giving it back to you.”

Your heart raced, confusion swirling in your mind. “Satoru, I—”

“There’s more, baby.” he interrupted, and you could see the emotion in his eyes, raw and unguarded.

Your eyes widened. “Satoru, what do you mean?”

“This….”—he tapped the bundles of cash—“has twenty years of interest on it. You’ve been waiting for me to give this back, and tonight, I’m doing it. You deserve it. You deserve to have it back, all of it.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and the moment seemed to stretch out, frozen in time. Your mind struggled to comprehend it. It was twenty years of interest. The money. The sacrifice. The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thicker as everything clicked into place.

“I know you hate that you have to still depend on what Nanami gives you.” Your partner smiles at you. “You had to give your own savings to me to save my and my mom’s lives. I just….I wanna give your life back to you, babe.”

“You don’t have to do this.” you said, your voice trembling slightly. You reached out, your fingers brushing against the edge of the suitcase, but you didn’t dare touch the cash. Not yet. “Satoru, this is too much. I can’t….I can’t accept this!”

Satoru looked at you with such intensity, his face softer than you had ever seen it. “I want to do this. You never asked for it, but you deserved it, from the moment I left that house to start over. This is me giving you what you should have gotten all along. Every penny of it. And more, if I could give it.”

There was so much unsaid in those words. It was so much more than just the money, just the years that had passed. You were just overwhelmed by it all. You were overwhelmed by his kindness, his tenderness, his love.

It was his way of saying thank you, of showing you just how deeply he understood what you had sacrificed, even when you hadn’t said a word. It was a way for him to show you that he had never forgotten. That he could never forget what you did for him.

Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them back, not out of pride, but because you couldn’t let the weight of this moment overwhelm you. You had always been the one who gave, who put others first. But Gojo Satoru… Satoru had always known how to turn that around, how to see you. Really see you.

“You don’t need to repay me for any of that, babe.” you said softly, but the words felt hollow in the face of his gesture.

You could feel the magnitude of his love and respect in every inch of this moment. He was doing this not out of obligation, but out of gratitude, out of a desire to give you something back that was long overdue.

“I know, I know,” he said, his voice low, sincere. “But I want to. I need to. So you’ll know that you’re always worth it. That you were never a second thought. That you have always been everything.”

For a long moment, you just stood there, taking in what he had done for you. It wasn’t just about the money. It was about love. The recognition of everything you had given up, everything you had done. Satoru had seen it all, and now, he was giving it back to you, with interest.

And in that moment, you knew that no matter where life took you, you had everything you needed. You had love, you had respect, and most of all, you had someone who would always make sure you never had to sacrifice for anyone but yourself again.

Satoru’s gaze softened as he saw the doubt flicker across your face. He reached out and gently took your hand, his touch grounding you as you stood there, frozen in the moment, surrounded by the weight of his gesture.

"I know you don’t want my money." he said quietly, his voice steady, but his eyes filled with something much deeper. Something like tenderness. "But this isn’t just money I’m giving you. This is your money. The money you sacrificed all those years ago to help me start a new life, to help me escape the life I was living. It’s time it came back to you. You’ve earned it."

The simplicity of his words hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t just the physical money. It was everything. All the years of pain, the sacrifice, the love, and the dreams that had been deferred.

And now, Gojo Satoru was giving it back to you, asking you to take what was rightfully yours, to use it for something you had always wanted but never fully allowed yourself to reach for. You were finally going to be free.

He placed the money in your hands, but it felt like he was offering you something far more precious. “I want you to use this to go back and study chemistry. I want you to finally fulfill that dream, the one that’s been waiting for you. I want you to be whole.”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. The tears welled up quickly, spilling over your lashes before you could even blink them away. Your chest tightened as everything you had held back for so long. The guilt, the doubt, the fear, it all came rushing to the surface. You felt like you were drowning, but in the best way.

You could barely find the words as you turned to him, pressing your face into his chest, the sobs shaking through your body. Gojo Satoru held you close, his hands running soothingly over your back, offering his strength and his presence.

“I don’t know how to thank you, babe.” you whispered through your tears, your voice muffled against his skin. “I never… I never thought you would—"

“You don’t have to thank me, you know.” he murmured, his lips pressing gently to the top of your head, a quiet promise in his voice. “You deserve this. You deserve everything, and I want to see you happy. I want to see you live the life you’ve always wanted, with no more excuses. I want to see you go after your dreams and never look back.”

You held him tighter, your fingers clinging to the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded. “I don’t know if I would’ve ever had the courage to do this on my own. To really go after it. But with you… I feel like I can. I feel like it’s possible.”

Satoru’s arms wrapped around you even more securely, holding you as though he could protect you from all your fears, all your insecurities. “You’ve always had the courage, baby. You just needed someone to remind you. And I’ll always be here to remind you. No matter what.”

You let the tears fall freely now, no longer holding back the flood of emotion. You cried for the years lost, for the dreams that had been on hold, for the life you thought was slipping away. You let yourself feel it all, those tears.

But you knew that you also cried for the hope that had bloomed in your chest, the knowledge that it wasn’t too late. You weren’t too late. And for the first time in a long while, you could see the future in front of you, clear and bright.

When you pulled back, your face was still wet with tears, but the weight in your chest had lifted. You looked up at Gojo Satoru, seeing him with fresh eyes. His love, his patience, his belief in you, in your dreams.

“Thank you, Satoru.” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it was enough. It was all you could say. “Truly.”

Satoru smiled softly, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to thank me, just… go live your life. Go do what makes you feel whole. And I’ll be here, cheering you on every step of the way, okay? I am your biggest cheerleader.”

You nodded, a quiet promise to yourself forming in the depths of your heart. You had spent so many years unsure of who you were, of what you could be. But now, with Satoru by your side, you could see the path ahead of you—a path that was yours to walk. And this time, you weren’t alone.

“I will, ‘toru.” you said, your voice firm and full of conviction. “I will. For me. For us.”

Satoru leaned down, his lips pressing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. “I know you will, baby.” he whispered. “I know.”

And in that moment, everything felt possible. Everything felt like it was falling into place. Because now, for the first time in years, you believed that your dream, your life. Now all of it was finally within reach.

AFTER FOUR YEARS TOGETHER, IT WAS TIME. The news broke quietly, but with an undeniable weight. [last name] [name] and Gojo Satoru, after all the years of shared moments, the lingering chemistry, the journey together had finally decided to announce what had been obvious to those closest to you: you were dating.

The announcement came naturally, a soft exchange between you and Satoru during a rare public moment when your worlds collided. It was simple, understated. No grand declarations, no elaborate explanations, it was just the truth of the matter.

You weren’t the type to thrive on headlines or public speculation, and neither was Satoru. So, when reporters asked about your relationship, you both simply said you were happy, together, and content with where life had taken you.

Neither of you felt the need to elaborate. The questions surrounding your estranged marriage were left unaddressed, neither mentioned nor speculated on. What mattered now was you and Satoru, in this present, in this space.

For a while, there was silence. The kind of silence that comes from people waiting for the next chapter to unfold. And then, it came. People started to ask everywhere and anywhere — ‘what does Nanami Kento think of this?’

In his latest interview, your estranged husband was suddenly asked about the news of your relationship with Gojo Satoru. He was calm, composed as always, his usual air of professionalism in place as he responded.

The interviewer probed gently, curious if there was any bitterness or unresolved tension. If there was anything to say about the dissolution of your marriage. But Kento, your estranged husband, simply smiled, his eyes betraying nothing but a quiet understanding.

“I’m happy for them, really I am.” he said, his voice steady, measured. “I’m happy for her. She deserves to be happy. And I’m glad that she’s found someone who makes her feel that way. I’m not here to comment on the past, but I do wish them both well. I hope they continue to find joy in each other’s company.”

There was a pause, and then the interviewer asked what anyone would have expected. “Do you think your paths will cross again?”

Kento leaned back slightly, the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I mean, we have children together. That’s bound to happen. But I’m too busy. And she has her own life. We’ll see. I’m content with where we all are. Just as she was.”

And just like that, the interview continued, the subject moving on to other topics, but the words hung in the air. It was a quiet, respectful nod to the past, to what had been and what could still be.

The interview had been going smoothly until the interviewer, perhaps trying to pry for more details in order to farm for more views and dirt, asked the question that lingered in the room like an unwanted shadow.

“But you’re still technically married, aren’t you?” the interviewer pressed, a hint of skepticism in their voice as they glanced between Nanami Kento and the camera.

For a moment, Kento was silent, his jaw tightening just slightly as he processed the question. It wasn’t the first time he had been asked about your estranged marriage, but it always felt like an invasion of privacy, a reminder of a chapter he wished he could undo.

Still, he had made peace with the past, and it was time the world did too. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes focused, and when he spoke, it was with a calm, steady voice. One that carried a weight of truth he hadn’t realized he needed to share.

“That’s none of people’s business.” Kento said, his gaze unwavering. “We’re married on paper, but we’re not together anymore, and she reverted to using her maiden name long ago.” His voice remained even, but there was an honesty there that couldn’t be ignored. “She’s her own person now. Leave her alone.”

The interviewer was momentarily taken aback, probably expecting more resistance, more nuance. But Nanami Kento didn’t hesitate, his words cutting through the tension like a quiet confession.

“I just realized it very late, her worth. I did a lot of wrong.” He continued, a quiet regret in his voice now. “I was the one who hurt her. I was the one who betrayed her. I cheated on her. And I—"

“Mr. Nanami, I didn’t mean—”

“But you did. You mean to get shit out of me, of me being horrible to her. I don’t want to do that.” He stopped for a moment, collecting himself, as if the weight of his own admission settled deeper than it had in years. “It’s time to move forward. I have to live with that thought. It’s time you all do the same.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as Nanami paused, letting his words sink in. There was no need to embellish the story or offer excuses. The truth was laid bare for anyone willing to listen.

His gaze softened, but there was no self-pity in his caramel eyes. It was only the understanding that the past could never be rewritten, but it didn’t have to define the future.

“I’m happy for her. That’s that.” Kento added, a subtle shift in his posture as he leaned back, his voice gaining strength. “I’m happy that she’s free from the marriage I helped destroy. She deserves to be happy, and I hope she is.”

The silence that followed was respectful, heavy with the weight of years gone by, but there was peace in the air. Nanami Kento wasn’t asking for forgiveness. He wasn’t making excuses for what had happened. He didn’t deserve to have either.

He had simply come to terms with the reality that you, too, had the right to move on and rebuild your life, without him. And that was okay. That’s just how it was. It was better that way. People should learn to know that too.

The interviewer nodded, clearly sensing the sincerity in his words, and the conversation shifted again, but the echo of Kento’s admission lingered, a quiet acknowledgment that even the most painful truths had their place in the light.

And for you, as you watched the interview unfold, there was a sense of finality to it. Nanami Kento had spoken of the past not with bitterness or anger, but with the quiet understanding that you were no longer defined by your history with him. You had been freed from that chapter, not just by time, but by your own strength and by the love you had found with Satoru.

Kento’s words didn’t undo the hurt or the betrayal, but they gave you the clarity that you had long deserved. It was the validation for the life you had fought to rebuild, and a recognition that, no matter what, you had always been your own person.

In the days that followed, the news spiraled, finding its way into conversations, headlines, and even gossip–filled whispers that had a way of slipping under doors and through cracks.

Some saw the romantic union between you and Satoru as a surprise, others as inevitable, but there was one thing they couldn’t deny. You weren’t the same person you had been before.

For years, you had been trapped in the shadows of your past, tethered to a marriage that had once held so much promise but had slowly become a cage. The divorce with Nanami Kento had always been painted as a sad, complicated chapter of your life, a chapter that people refused to let go of.

But now? Now, you were free from those labels, those assumptions that others tried to write for you.

You sat across from Satoru in your favorite café, the sunlight spilling through the windows and illuminating the space with a soft warmth. The buzz of casual conversation around you felt distant, almost irrelevant.

You could only focus on the present that you live happily now. The present that was now your reality. The present was full of laughter, soft touches, and a love that seemed as though it had always been meant to find you.

Gojo Satoru reached across the table, his fingers brushing over yours, a silent reassurance that you were in this together. The world could be spinning with its opinions, but at that moment, all that mattered was the connection you shared.

“You know, baby.” Satoru began, leaning in slightly with a mischievous grin. “They’re still talking about us, right?” His voice was playful, but his eyes were warm, filled with something deeper than just the humor in his tone.

You laughed softly, feeling the lightness of the moment. “I know. They’re obsessed. But honestly, babe, I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t care that they’re questioning everything? You don’t care that they’re digging into every detail?”

“No, of course not.” you said, shaking your head with a smile that held more peace than you had ever known. “Because I’m not part of their narrative anymore. I’m living my own story now.”

Satoru’s grin softened, and he squeezed your hand gently. “I like that. I like the sound of that. Your story. Not anyone else’s. I really really love that.”

“I spent too long living for everyone else, you know?” you admitted, your voice quiet but firm, as if you were finally speaking the truth you had buried for too long. “I let the past define me. I let what other people thought about my life dictate my choices.”

“You’ve always had a mind of your own, baby.” he said, his tone softening as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “But I get it. You had to find your way out. And now you have. You’ve freed yourself. And here you are now.”

You nodded slowly, your chest filling with a sense of something new, something freeing. “I didn’t even realize it until now. But for the first time in years, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. I’m not defined by what’s happened. I’m defined by what I choose from here on out.”

Satoru’s hand still held yours, a steady anchor in the storm of your thoughts. “And you choose this, right? You choose me?”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, and you squeezed his hand in return. “I choose us. I choose what we’re building. I choose this love.”

The warmth in his smile matched the affection in his eyes. “And I choose you, always.” he said, his voice rich with sincerity. “Every part of you. Every piece of this life we’re building together.”

You leaned across the table, your forehead resting gently against his. The world around you continued to buzz, the voices of others rising and falling, but none of it mattered anymore.

Because what you shared with Gojo Satoru was not a story written by anyone else. It was your own. It was one that you had crafted, nurtured, and chosen to live with all your heart.

And as the days passed, the whispers only grew louder, but you were no longer disturbed by them. They faded into the background, overshadowed by the certainty you carried in your soul. You had found your way, and nothing could take that from you.

Even Kento, who had once been a constant figure in your life, seemed a distant thought. His words of acceptance from the interview lingered in your mind, but they no longer held the same weight they once had. He had let go, and so had you.

You were free from that chapter, free from the expectations of others, free to finally be who you had always been beneath the layers of doubt and obligation. You were your own person now. You belonged to yourself.

You were no longer just someone’s wife, no longer defined by the failures of a past relationship. You were the author of your own narrative. And that narrative, at long last, was one of love, hope, and possibility.

It was a story that had only just begun.

epilogue

The bustling streets of Tokyo had never felt so alive, and yet, there was a calm that settled in your chest as you walked toward the familiar gates of Tokyo University. The campus loomed ahead, its towering buildings standing tall like silent witnesses to the passage of time.

You had walked through these gates once before, years ago, with ambition and dreams shining brightly in your eyes. But then life, as it often does, has steered you in another direction. You were planning to enjoy it all now.

Now, as you stood at the edge of the campus once again, those dreams didn’t feel like distant memories. They felt alive, pulsing in your veins, stronger than ever. You had come back for them.

You crossed the threshold, your shoes clicking softly against the stone pathway. Every step felt like a reclaiming, a return to something you had nearly let slip away. The scent of the old buildings mixed with the faint smell of fresh ink and textbooks. It was a scent you had missed.

Entering the main building, you made your way to the student affairs office. The door opened with a soft creak, and the low hum of activity inside made the space feel welcoming, alive with the energy of students coming and going, of new beginnings being made.

You approached the counter, your heart steady despite the nerves that had once kept you from even considering this moment. You hadn’t been sure, back then, if you were meant to walk this path. But now, with each passing second, that uncertainty was fading away.

A friendly receptionist looked up from her computer screen, her smile warm and inviting. “Good morning! How can I help you today?”

You cleared your throat softly, meeting her eyes with a sense of quiet confidence. “Hi, I’d like to inquire about getting a student ID, if you please.”

She tilted her head slightly, intrigued by your request. “Of course. May I have your name, mam?”

You took a deep breath and smiled, the weight of the decision finally sinking in. “My name is [last name] [name], and I’m a chemistry major.”

The receptionist’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she glanced back at you, a hint of surprise in her eyes. You can tell she was probably looking at your records. She happily nodded and smiled warmly.

“Well, it’s an honor to welcome you back, as a UTokyo student again.” she said, her voice laced with sincerity. “Let’s get you set up, okay? You’re starting a new chapter, so we should finish quick here. I’m sure there’s stuff you wanna explore on the campus.”

As she processed the necessary paperwork, you stood there, a quiet sense of fulfillment washing over you. The past years had been filled with challenges, with moments of doubt and struggle, but now, standing here, you realize how far you have come. You had chosen this path, and you were walking it on your own terms.

This was just the beginning, you knew that much. This beginning was just a part of the exciting, unknown journey you’re taking. This beginning was something you had dreamed of for so long. And it was happening. You could feel the future unfolding before you, and it was brighter than you had ever imagined.

When the receptionist handed you the new student ID, she smiled. “Welcome back to Tokyo University!”

“Thank you….Thank you so much.”

Your shining eyes gazed at the lady and you smiled at her. Then back at your ID. It felt surreal. It was like a symbol of everything you had fought for. You saw it all in full.

Your name, your identity, your choice. The chemistry major you had once dreamed of was now a reality, waiting to be filled with knowledge, experiences, and possibilities.

And as you stepped out of the office, holding your ID in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. You were no longer defined by what you had left behind. You were writing your own story, one step at a time.

The world, once again, was full of endless possibilities.

363 notes · View notes

shyxcherry · 2 months ago

Text

bite me | k

summary: when your best friends invite you over for dinner, you didn't think anything of it. you didn't expect him to ask you to be his clan leader's 'fake girlfriend.'' and you surely didn't expect for someone to want to kill you over it. but here you are, in a snowed in cabin with a vampire you just met.

pairing: vampire!k x human!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, smut (oral (female), fingering, one spank, p in v, unprotected sex), k's a vampire and has a bite kink

word count: 18k

notes: this somehow disappeared the first time when i tried to publish it. thank god i saved it somewhere else or i would've cried. let me know what you think! likes and reblogs appreciated.

"for someone who doesn't eat actual food, you really know how to cook."

you look up from your food when you heard harua snort. normally the two of you meet at your place for your weekly hang outs. but for some reason, he wanted you to come over to his place. you weren't opposed to it. you just weren't used to being in this side of town.

the area that harua lived in was nice. like something you would see in a movie. all of the houses looked like small mansions. the people were always put together. but then again, you expected nothing less from vampires. because of course you had to find a best friend who was immortal.

the two of you met when you were in college. the two of you were in the same class when the professor partnered you two up for an assignment. the two of you hit it off right away and have been friends ever since. even if he was 100 years older than you.

"i'm glad you like it." he smiled at you, fangs peaking out at you. "you never come over to mine, so i wanted to spoil you."

"and who's fault is that?" you question.

he was always the one insisting of him coming over to yours. he was too afraid of the other vampires who live by him. you didn't see much of an issue. the area that harua lived in were nice, as were some of the vampires you had met while coming here. you never felt unsafe in the area.

"you know why." he told you, pouting when you ruffled his hair. he smacked your hand away before going to fix it.

"i know rua. i just like messing with you."

"don't i know it."

you finish your food, arguing with harua about who would clean up. in the end, harua cleaned everything up while you watched with a pout. he walked over, booping your nose as he tidied up the kitchen.

"this isn't fair." you complained. "you always clean when you come to mine."

"well it's my place, so it wouldn't be fair of me to make you clean."

"it's not making if i'm offering." you watch as he turns to you with another one of his smiles. you smile at him before realizing something. "that's it. what do you want?"

if there was one thing you knew about harua, he was a horrible liar. his back stiffened before looking away from you. "nothing."

"do you smell that?" you ask, sniffing the air around you. harua turned, confused as he smelled around. "i smell a liar."

you yelped as he smacked you with a damp towel. "you're so funny."

"i know." you smile at him as he walks up to you. "seriously though. what's wrong?"

"nothing's wrong." he answers, and this time you could tell he was being honest. "i just have a question for you."

you follow after harua as he walks back into the living room. "so that's why i'm here. you're buttering me up for something."

"well..." he trailed off as he sat on the couch. "you're free to say no. but just hear me out first."

you sit next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest as you watch him. "i'm all ears."

"do you remember my friend group?"

"the one's i've been dying to meet, but you won't let me?"

you've heard about his friends multiple times, though you've never head him refer to them as 'friends.' normally he calls them his clan. you've seen some pictures of them, and you know they're all like him. but you've never met them despite you and harua being friends for the past 3 years. harua tells you it's because you're too good to meet them, or that he doesn't want them to take you away from him because you were his friend first.

"well, we're having this sort of get together. it's where a bunch of the clans around the area get together and talk stupid business that none of us really care about." harua explains. you remember him vaguely talking about this in the past. mostly because after them, he comes over to your, complaining to you while you drink wine.

"it happens once a year right?"

"yes." he answers. "the reason i'm telling you this is because of k. you remember him?"

"he's the leader of your clan, right?" he nodded his head at your response.

"the past few times we've went, the clans have started talking about k's lack of partner. i still think he's young, but the others think that he needs to settle down and find his partner." you listened intently as harua explained the situation.

"how old is he?"

"your terms or ours?" harua answers making you sigh out. you hear him laugh before he answers. "human age is about 27. our age he is roughly 150."

"so why are you telling me all of this?"

harua sighs before looking over at you. "k is trying to get them off of his back. we came up with the idea for him to bring a "girlfriend" if you will, so they'll leave him alone."

"you want me to be the fake girlfriend?" you ask unsure.

"i know it's a huge thing to ask of you, but i wouldn't be asking if it i didn't have to." harua told you. "if he goes this time without someone, they may try to over rule him."

"what does that mean?" you ask.

"they'll try and fight him for his position. more than likely killing him in the process."

your eyes widened at the answer. "you guys are fucking barbarians!"

"tell me something i don't know." harua leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. "i can't lose him. none of us can. it's like taking a child away from their parents."

"when is this thing?" you ask him.

"next friday."

you thought about it for a moment. you've read stories of vampires who has lost their clan leader. even if someone tries to replace them, most of them go insane. you know harua's told you that one clan who lost their leader destroyed an entire town, full of innocent humans. you didn't want to see that happen to your best friend, or any of the people he cared about.

"i'll do it."

haura jumps up at your answer. "you will?"

"of course. you're my best friend. i'd do anything for you." harua pulls you into a hug that involved a little to much of his vampire strength, but you didn't mind.

"i don't know how i'll ever repay you."

"you can start by making me that pasta for the rest of my life."

"deal."

"why do i need a new dress?" you complain as you follow after harua. "i have so many at home that i've never even worn."

the get together you'll be attending as k's girlfriend was in a few days. you had already planned out what you were going to where. apparently though, it wasn't good enough for harua because he was taking you shopping for a new one.

"bubs, i've been through your closet. you don't have anything that fits the theme."

you look over at him with raised eyebrows. "theme? what the hell is this? prom?"

"wrong choice of words." you turn around when you hear someone talk behind you. you come face to face with who you're sure is one of harua's friends. he wasn't much taller than you with dark hair and sharp, cat like eyes. "what he mean to say was dress code. everyone dresses way too fancy for these stupid things."

"yn. this is nicholas." harua introduced the two of you. "he's going to help us pick out a dress. he has the best eye when it comes to stuff like this."

you nod your head, becoming quiet as the two vampires converse. you have been wanting to meet harua's friends for years, and he's always brushed you off. it isn't until you're going to this dinner with them that you finally get to meet everyone. once their conversation is over, harua grabs your hand as you three walk into the mall.

"how fancy is this thing?" you ask harua as the two of you follow after nicholas. your question was answered when he walked into the store with the most extravagant dresses you've ever seen. you turn to glare at your best friend- him knowing of your hatred for things like this. he avoided your eyes as he looked to the ground.

"i love you?"

"i take back everything i said about doing anything for you. you owe me big time." you mumble as you walk into the store, knowing he could hear you. you look at a price tag, gasping at the price before looking back at harua. "i can't afford something like this!"

he scoffed before bumping your shoulder. "i know you can't. that's why i'm buying."

"harua-"

but before you could scold him, nicholas called out your guys name from deeper in the store. you glare at harua one last time before walking away to find nicholas. you found him near the dressing rooms with a handful of red dresses.

"i'm guessing the theme is red?" you assume. you look up when you hear nicholas laugh.

"it's our clan color." he answers you. "plus, it goes good with your complexion."

you follow after him as he walks into the dressing rooms. he hangs up the dresses before leaving, but before he shuts the door, harua slips in. if it was anyone else, you would probably yell at them to get out so you could get changed. it's also not like you could get into these dresses by yourself anyway.

he helped you into the first dress, but you didn't even let him tie it up before you took it off, hating how it looked on you. you did that to two more dresses until you found one you would let him tie it. just for nicholas to veto that one because he didn't like it.

you tried on the last dress, letting harua fix it before turning around. it was a off shoulder deep satin dress with pearls on the torso. it flared out at your hips.

"i like this one." harua says fixing the dress. "you look beautiful."

"am i going to be the only human there?" you look up at him. it was a question that had been bothering you since you said yes to him.

"no." you let out a sigh of relief at his answer. "fuma, who is similar in age to k, has a girlfriend who is a human. she's coming with us. some of the other vampires from other clans have human significant others as well."

you nod your head at his words, smiling with he pulls you into him and kisses your forehead. "even if you were, we wouldn't let anything happen to you. especially me."

"i know, rua."

the two of you walked out to show nicholas, who immediately approved of the dress. you changed into your normal clothes while harua, much to your dismay, pays for that dress. now the only thing left was to attend the dinner. should be easy right?

you fiddle with your dress as you sit in the passenger's seat of harua's car. to say you were nervous was an understatement. he has reassured you multiple times that everything would be okay. that they would love you, but you were still nervous. especially when harua told you that the two of you would be riding separate to and from the dinner.

you were supposed to ride with k, which made you nervous because you haven't even met the guy and you were riding alone with him for 30 minutes. you know harua would be in the car behind you but still. you tended to be quiet around people you didn't know, and you didn't want to be awkward around anyone.

once you two arrive at k's place, which was somehow even more stunning that harua's, you were stopped before you could get out of the car. "before we go in there, i need to do something for me."

"your list of owing me is getting longer by the day rua." you joke, but nodded your head for him to continue regardless.

"when we get to the dinner, you need to listen to anything k tells you to do without question. it needs to look like you trust him as much as we do."

"trust one of the most powerful vampires alive because you tell me to. got it." harua snorts at your attempt to make light of the situation, but he could still tell you were nervous, even with you hiding it.

you follow behind harua as you enter k's house. you take a moment to admire the simplistic decor before someone gains your attention. a girl in a red dress similar to yours, except her top was corset style, was walking over to the two of you. once she reached you, she immediately pulled you into a hug, shocking you.

"you must be yn. it's so nice to finally meet you." she smiled as she pulled away. "i'm mijung, but everyone calls me mj."

"you're fuma's girlfriend, right?" you recall one of your many interrogations with harua about his friends.

"i am." she answers. "almost everyone is here waiting in the den. we're just waiting on ej and nicholas."

"late as always." harua laughs, grabbing your hand before leading you to where everyone was. he squeezed your hand when he noticed how tight you were holding his. a grip that got tighter when you two stepped into the den.

to say you were overwhelmed was an understatement. not when 6 very attractive vampires all turned towards your direction. before you could too nervous though, one of them sped over with a large smile.

"you're even prettier than the photos."

"taki!" harua yells, stepping in front of you some. you, along with everyone, laugh at the interaction. the laid back vibes helping you calm down.

"it's true!" he exclaimed before holding out his hand. "i'm taki."

you move from behind harua before shaking his hand. "i'm yn."

everyone went around the room introducing themselves. you tried your best to remember everyone. once just about everyone was introduced, the leader of them turned towards you. of course the one who you were supposed to 'fake date' is the most attractive man you've ever seen. he looked like he had just walked out of a tv screen. he was wearing a black suit with a red tie that matched your dress. his hair was also slicked back, revealing his forehead.

"i'm k." he smiled at you, causing your knees to shake for a moment. what the hell was wrong with you? "thank you for doing this for us. it means a lot."

you nod your head, quickly breaking eye contact with him and looking a haura. you shake off the feeling of his eyes staring at you as you nudged harua. "of course. it's hard to say no to him anyway."

"typical harua effect." mj joked. "i think its the baby face."

"oh definitely the baby face." you agreed, reaching up and pinching haura's cheeks. the guys laughed when he blushed before pushing your hand away.

"now that everyone's here, are we ready?" mj asked. it was then that harua turned towards you.

"one more thing before we go."

"hit me."

the two of you turn with you heard the youngest vampire, maki, laugh. he was laughing at k who was looking between the two of you with wide eyes. you shuffle under his gaze. did you already say something wrong?

"relax, k. it's just a saying." maki told him before turning to you. "you'll have to forgive the old man. knows nothing of todays terms."

you chuckle at the glare k gave maki before turning your attention back to harua. "you need to stay with one of us at all times. preferably k since you're supposed to be his girl."

you nod your head, trying not to let the words 'his girl' get to you. you didn't have a chance to freak out over it due to someone walking up beside you. you look up to see k standing next to you- his strong cologne invading your senses. even with heels on, you barely reach his shoulders.

"relax, harua." k reassured him. "i'm not going to let her out of my sight."

"good. because if something happens to her, i'm going to kill everyone."

after harua's threat, everyone got loaded in their respected vehicles. the car ride wasn't too awkward thankfully, just quiet. once you were almost there, k turned his attention towards you.

"i'm hoping harua explained to you about how the night would go, right?"

"yeah." you answered. "we go in there, have dinner, and impressive some vampires."

you didn't know what you were expecting as a response, but you didn't think it would be a laugh. you turned in time to see his smile before he looked at you. "you're cute."

your eyes widened at the compliment from him as he turned his attention back to the road. that was the end of your conversation thankfully as you didn't think you could properly respond to him without sounding like a complete idiot.

once you two arrived, k helped you out of the car, keeping a hand on the small of your back

"who's ready to smooze some vampires?"

"really taki?"

you felt like a fish out of water the longer the night went on. k did as he said, not letting you out his sight which you were thankful for. you didn't think that included his hand resting on your waist the whole night- not that you were complaining or anything.

you could tell, however, how much he dislike certain people due to his grip on you. if someone said something that offended him, his hand would tighten on your waist. you even noticed he got upset when one of the other clan leaders look at you for too long.

after what felt like an eternity of meeting everyone and listening to things that you had no clue about, the dinner had started. you did question harua why dinner since vampires didn't normally eat. you knew they could if they wanted to. it just wasn't necessary. he then proceeded to go on some tangent that they did it to seem more 'human.'

you sat in between k and mj at your table. you wanted to sit next to harua, but he didn't think that would be a good idea since you were comfortable around him. you reluctantly agreed, not wanting to raise any questions. there was also apparently a rule that the humans sit in between the two more vampires, which would be k and fuma.

you did meet mj's gaze during the dinner. she motioned to her lips before mouthing to you. "you hate this as much as i do?"

"i don't think i've ever been more bored. or uncomfortable." you mouth back.

her perfectly sculpted eyebrows raise. "you don't seem to uncomfortable in k's embrace." your jaw drops at her words. she laughs at your expression before nudging your shoulder. "don't worry. your secret's safe with me."

the rest of your dinner went off without a hitch. all of you being thoroughly entertained by the two youngest member, taki and maki, as they argue back and forth over something.

you almost startle when you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder. you look over to see k smiling at you before leaning in close to you. it took everything in you to not shy away from him as his lips graze your ear.

"i want to thank you again for doing this." his warm breath hits you, almost making you shiver.

"don't mention it."

"you know, when harua suggest that you would do it, i almost didn't believe him."

you met his gaze when he pulled back. "why is that?"

"what human agrees to be a date for a vampire she's never met?" he asked.

"the type who cares about her friend." you answer before shrugging. "and besides, you weren't a total stranger. haura's talked about you multiple times. he thinks very highly of you."

he leans in closer to you once again. "what amazing things has he said about me?"

"the term arrogant may have popped up a couple of times." you find yourself smiling when k threw his head back with laughter. that moment of happiness that you allowed yourself as you watched him was short lived.

a vampire you met earlier burst through the doors, covered in blood. you froze, jaw dropping as you looked at him as he stumbled into the room. k's arm tightened around you as two other vampires rush to catch him.

"the wolves." he spoke. "the wolves are here."

as if on que, a loud howl came from the direction the vampire came from. other's howled in response, and your eyes widened when you realized they were completely surrounding you. everyone, including you, looked towards k for directions. you watched him whole demeanor change as he thinks of a plan.

"harua. jo. get yn and mj out of here. the rest of you with me." he demands, shocking you when he presses a kiss to your forehead before getting up.

everyone except the four of you follow after k. you watch him for a moment before turning to harua. he gives you a calming smile as he helps you get up while jo goes to scout a path for you guys. he wraps his arm around your waist when he feels your legs start to shake.

"are you okay to walk?" he asked you. "if not i can carry you."

you shake your head. "i'll be okay."

"i won't let anything happen to you." he promised as jo walked back over to the three of you.

"this way is clear."

harua gripped your hand tightly in his as you follow after jo and mj. as soon as you stepped outside, you could hear the fighting on the other side of the building. you flinched when you heard one of the wolves yelp before harua stops in front of you, nearly making you run into him.

you grip onto the back of his jacket with your free hand as you peak around him to see two wolves that haven't shifted yet staring at the four of you. the one on the right had a sinister smile as he eyed the two vampires blocking you and mj. that was until one of them looked at you. you pushed down nausea as he nodded his head towards you.

"this is the one that was with that bastard, wasn't it?" he questioned his friend. harua tightened his grip on you, blocking you even more.

"it is." his friend responded. "i can smell him on her from here. boss will want her."

"we'll let your other little human go if you give us her. we may even let you two live as well." the first one spoke again. haura let out a sound that you had never heard from him before. it almost sounded like a growl.

"i'll be dead before i ever let you touch her."

"that can be arranged."

but before the wolves could do anything, harua sped away from you. you couldn't see much, but your jaw dropped when the two wolves dropped dead in front of you. harua sped back to you wiping his now bloody hand on his suit. you had never seen this side of harua, and apparently neither have jo and mj from the looks on their faces.

"jesus, rua." mj mumbled. "remind me not to get on your bad side. or yn's."

you stare at the bodies, having never seen someone dead before. let alone killed right in front of you. and the fact that your sweet best friend who nearly jumped in your arms last week because of a bug was the one who killed them. you felt bile rise up your throat as everything you thought you knew shift.

"bubs, you okay?" you finally look away from the two dead men, meeting harua's eyes. he was now almost trembling as much as you were.

"i will be once we get out of here."

"you heard the woman. let's go." mj commented as she motioned for the two vampires to lead the way. you hold back a gag as you step around the bodies. you felt like you were going to need a therapist after tonight.

you and mj continued to follow after harua and jo as they let you to what you recognize as the parking lot. that was when the four of you went separate ways. mj hugged you goodbye before getting into jo's car. you get into harua's car before the two of you speed off.

"they're going to be okay, right?" you ask, referencing the rest of his friends who were fighting. you may have just met them, but you didn't want anything to happen to them. although if they were anything like harua, they would be fine.

"yes." he answered without hesitation. "it's not our first times fighting wolves."

you scoff, picking at your dress as you try to calm yourself. "clearly."

"look, yn." haura sighs. "i didn't mean for you to see that-"

"i'm going to stop you right there, rua." you interrupt him. "nothing that happened tonight is going to change anything between us."

"it's not?" he asked. you looked over to see him gripping the steering wheel in fear of you leaving before you met his gaze. you could see the relief in his eyes when you shook your head.

"no." you answer. "nothing you could do could ever stop us from being friends."

"i'm sorry? what?"

after the disasterous dinner, harua took you back to your place. he stayed the night which wasn't anything new, so he could watch over you. he sat in the chair in the corner of your room while you slept, or at least attempted to. you got a few hours of restless sleep at best.

the sun hadn't even risen when you got up, but you were tired of laying in bed. you know that harua left that chair sometime during the night, and you could tell something was off with him when he came back. and by the time you got up, he was acting even weirder. you could tell by his actions that there was something bothering him, but he wouldn't tell you. it wasn't until he got a phone call from k that he explained everything to you.

the pack of wolves who attacked you belonged to an alpha named aric. apparently him and k go way back, but harua wouldn't tell you the details. all he told you that they were once really close friends turned enemies. k's clan, along with another vampire's clan, were going head to head with him. but now, aric has been growing his pack to where he vastly outnumbers them.

"aric threatened you." harua explains again. "he thinks you and k are together, and he wants revenge."

"and that involves killing me?" you yell as you pace around your living room. it was way too early to be dealing with this, and your lack of sleep was like the cherry on top. you turn to continue pacing when you run into harua. he pulls you into a hug, not only to comfort you but himself as well.

"i'm so sorry i dragged you into this. if i knew this was going to happen, i never would've asked."

"harua." you sigh pulling away. "you don't have to apologize. i don't blame you for anything. i knew it would be dangerous. just tell me what we need to do to fix it."

"the only way to fix it is to kill aric."

"well even i could figure that one out." you roll your eyes. before he could respond to you, someone knocked on your door. you jump in fear before turning to harua. "who is that?"

he rubbed his hands along your arms soothingly. "relax, yn. it's k and taki."

you relax as you watch harua leave the room to open the door. you hear him greet the two before you were wrapped in a hug causing you to let out a shocked sound. you recognize the laugh that came from your hugger was taki.

"did you miss us?" taki asked as he pulled away from you. he stepped away from you as k and harua walked into the living room.

you let your eyes quickly glaze over k. you didn't see how someone could still look like a model in jeans and a t-shirt. his hair was fluffy instead of the gelled back like it was last night. you preferred this style better. although now you felt self conscious with your messy but and overly large t shirt that completely covered your shorts, so it looks like you weren't wearing any.

"terribly." you answer turning back to taki. "i was starting to go through withdrawals."

"especially because of me, right?"

you let out a chuckle as you play along with him. "you caught me red handed."

you are rewarded with a loud laugh from taki. "i like you. harua, i will forever question why you waited so long to let me meet her."

the two of you look over when neither one of them answer you. you see k and harua in what looks like a heated discussion. you look over to taki in confusion. he watches them for a moment before looking back at you.

"i'm guessing harua didn't tell you why we we're here, did he?"

you looked between him and the other two. "no. are you going to tell me?"

"don't you say a word, taki!" harua exclaims, stopping taki from talking. it also caused the both of you to jump at his outburst. "i am her best friend. i am telling her. you two bud out."

harua walked over, grabbing your wrist before dragging you back into your bedroom. it was now his turn to pace as you sit on your bed. "okay, yn. i need you to hear me out before you start asking questions."

"the last time you said that, i was nearly attacked by wolves." you chuckled when he glared at you. you held out your hands in a mock surrender as you mumble a 'sorry' under your breath.

"aric has too many wolves going after k, which in return means they're going after you as well since they think you're together. we have decided that it would be safest if k goes into hiding while we look for aric and stop him."

"i have a feeling k's not too happy about that."

"he's not!" you hear taki yell from the living room. you then hear what you could assume of k smacking him and telling him to be quiet and to stop listening in. you roll your eyes as you look back to harua.

"it's the only thing we could think of to keep the two of you safe."

you freeze when you hear the end of harua's sentence. he realizes what he says, throwing a hand over his mouth in shock. you motion to the door where k was. "you're asking me to go with him, aren't you?"

"it'll only be for a few days. a week at the most."

"a week! i can't just leave." you stand up. "i have a job that i can't afford to lose."

"we can compel your boss to not fire you." you hear taki say from the living room. you ignore the sound of rough housing at the two vampires in your living room as you look over to harua. he had a hopeful expression.

"do you think this is necessary for me to go into hiding?" you ask.

"i do." he answers, and you could tell he was being truthful with you. not he had ever lied to you before. "i need you safe, yn. i will lose my mind if something happens to you."

you laugh softly, knowing that you felt the same way about him. you had never had a friend like harua. "i trust you, rua. if you think i need to go, i will."

"thank you." he sighs in relief. "you two will leave as soon as you're packed. oh, and pack warm."

you let out a groan, hating the cold. "is it to late to say no?"

"yes."

once you had gotten packed, k loaded up your bags into his car before you two set off. the two of you were quiet during your journey, having a lot on your minds. you let out a yawn as you watched the scenery fly by. eventually your exhaustion won and you fell asleep.

you didn't know how long you were asleep. you just knew that the sun was fully in the sky at that point. you shift in your seat, furrowing your eyebrows when something falls in your lap. you look down to see that k had covered you with his jacket.

"you looked cold."

you look over at k, meeting his gaze for a moment before he looks back at the road. "thank you. how long was i out."

"a few hours." he answers. "we still have about another hour to go."

you nod your head before looking outside. you could tell just from looking outside that you were traveling north. the mountains were covered in snow. there also wasn't any sign of civilization anywhere.

"where are we heading?" you ask. you couldn't use your phone to look to see where you were. you had it turned off, placed in your bag in case someone tracked it. you were under strict instruction on not using it unless necessary.

"nicho has a cabin up here that he stays at from time to time." he answers you. "no one knows about it outside of us, so it'll be safe."

"it's also in the middle of nowhere." k laughed at your comment.

"try to get some more rest. we'll be there soon."

you did as he said, pulling up his jacket up more as you settled back in your seat. you didn't fall back asleep, so you spent the rest of your time looking out the window. the closer the two of you got to your destination, the colder it got. eventually, it started snowing much to your dismay.

"come on, yn." you jump at the sudden sound of k's voice causing him to chuckle. "the snow isn't that bad."

"says the vampire." you mumble as the two of you pull up to a small two story cabin. it was surrounded by woods, completely shut off from society. you unbuckle your seatbelt before turning to k. "here's your jacket."

"put it on. it's going to be cold in there until i get it warm." you look over at him like he had grown two heads.

"all the reason why you should wear it." k took the jacket from you, but didn't put it on like you thought he would. instead, he leaned over the console before draping it over your shoulders. you clear your throat as he pulls away as you try to recover from that. "really?"

k shrugged. "i can't get sick."

you roll your eyes before doing as he wants and sliding your arms into the jacket before zipping it up. "better?"

"much." he winks before he gets out of the car before going around to the trunk. you had a feeling he would scold you if you walked back and tried to help him with the bags. and you were correct by the glare he gave you when you took a step in his direction. "don't even think about, little human."

"you're so dramatic." you turn your back on him, mostly to hide your blush as you walk towards the house. it was a weird nickname, but for some reason, you really liked it. not like you would ever say that out loud.

you walk up the steps, slipping off your snow covered boots before going inside. the inside wasn't what you were expecting. the decor was modern, but with a twist you couldn't put your finger on.

"why is the couch pink?"

"pink is nicho's favorite color." k answered as he walked inside with your bags. he set his down before turning to you. "there are two bedrooms. one upstairs and one downstairs. i'm going to take the one downstairs."

he motioned you to follow him upstairs where your room would be. he sat your bags on the bed before pointing at the room behind you. "that's the bathroom. and there's the closet."

k left you alone while you explored some. the theme of this room was cream colors, along with pink accents which you thought was cute. you would've never guessed that the dark haired man's favorite color would be pink.

after you put away your things and freshened up, you grabbed k's jacket before going back downstairs. you hung up his jacket by the door before wandering into the kitchen. you don't know why, but you expected it to be empty. instead, it was completely stocked like someone lived here.

you look over when you hear k enter the room. "ej and nicho came here last night and stocked everything. harua told them all of your favorites to buy."

"did he now?" you question walking over to the fridge. you open the freezer, examining everything until your eyes landed on your favorite thing to eat. ice cream. you grab it with a small smile. "i love that kid."

k walks over to see what you were holding as you look for a spoon. once you find one, you open the lid before taking a bite. you look over when you hear k laugh at you.

"it's snowing outside, and you're eating ice cream?"

"you drink blood for a living, and you're questioning my food choices?" you retort before eating another bite of ice cream.

"harua did say you hate cooking." you agree at his statement.

"i do. i mostly eat ramen or this."

"that's probably not very healthy."

you look over at him. "i don't see your point."

"my point is while you're with me, i'm going to take care of you." k tells you.

you raise your eyebrows before looking back down at your ice cream. you didn't know if you could look at him after those words, even though he didn't mean it like that. "what does that mean? you're gonna cook for me?"

"i am." he nods his head moving closer to you before taking the ice cream out of your hands. you watched him with wide as he puts it back in the freezer. "that also means no ice cream until after dinner."

you thought that was the end of the conversation, but it wasn't. he grabs your spoon which still had ice cream on it, eating what was left on it before putting the it in the sink. you didn't even have a chance to react as he walked out of the kitchen. "dinner will be ready at 6."

this man was going to be the death of you.

you spend the rest of your afternoon exploring the house before relaxing in the living room. you watched some movie on tv, and k ended up joining you until he got up to go start dinner. you offered to help out of kindness, but he shut you down. you did sit in the kitchen though to keep him company.

you've learn so far that k doesn't like silence very well because as soon as you sat down he began talking. you do your best listening to his story as you watch him cook. he had taken off his sweater leaving him in the same white t shirt as this morning. his back was turned to you for the most part, so you had a clear view without getting caught.

you tuck your legs under you as k finishes up cooking. "all of your stories seem to involve taki."

"me and him have been together the longest." k answers sitting the food in front of you. you thank him before starting to eat, and he starts to wash the dishes. "he was the first vampire i turned."

"so that's why he clings to you like a child."

you look up when k groans. "don't say that around him. i just got him to stop calling me dad."

"he's such a cutie. all of the younger ones are."

"oh?" k questions you. watch him turn to you with a smile. "what about the older ones?"

you roll your eyes, standing up before walking over to the sink and washing your plate. "ej and nicho are attractive. not saying anything about fuma since he has a girlfriend."

"and the oldest?"

"what about him?" you tease. his shoulder brushes yours as he leans on the counter next to you causing you to look up at him. he hands you a towel for you to dry your hands.

"what was your first impression of me?" you raise your eyebrows at his question.

"you expect me to just tell you that?"

"what if i tell you what my first impression of you was?"

you thought about it for a moment. "you going to go first?"

"i asked you first though." you laugh at his answer.

"and that's where you messed up. i've known harua long enough to trust him, but to also know that he's a trickster. who's to say you're not as well?"

you could tell by the glint in his eyes that you were right. it also helped that harua told you he learned everything from the man in front of you. "what if i give you my word?"

"your word means nothing to me. don't forget you're still a stranger to me."

"you wound me." he overdramatically grasps his chest. "i really thought we were best friends at this point."

you roll your eyes at his dramatics. "boy makes me food one time and assumes were besties."

"isn't that how it works?"

"you're ridiculous." you chuckle at him.

"ridiculously cute?"

ridicoulsly attractive were the words that came to your mind, but you obviously didn't say those words outloud. instead, you pull away from him completely before stepping away.

"you're going to have to try harder than that."

he smiles at the challenge. "oh, little human. you have no idea what you've just done."

it had been three days since you and k went off the grid. you felt like you were going stir crazy since you have been stuck in the cabin since you got there. and it's not like you could go for a walk, or do anything outside for that matter because it hasn't really stopped snowing.

it was after dinner and you were yet again watching another movie, snuggled under a blanket while the fire kept you warm. thankfully k knew how to keep a fire going because you didn't. speaking of k, it was sitting on the other end of the couch driving you insane.

it's not like was trying to or anything. he was just wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie, but he still looked amazing. the two of you had spent the last few days in each others company. for some reason, you felt yourself open up around him, something that normally took you ages to do. you just felt comfortable around him in a way you couldn't explain. you didn't know how you were going to go not talking to him after you two went back home.

"i feel like i'm going crazy." you mumble, blankly watching the tv screen.

"at least i'm not the only one." k agreed. "i can't remember the last time i went even 12 hours without talking to one of the guys."

"harua and i facetimed daily, sometimes even twice." you tell him.

you couldn't help but wonder if he was okay. you did bring it up to k once, and he was able to help with your worries. apparently he had a satellite phone that the guys could call if they needed help. the fact that no one's called is a good sign according to him.

"you want me to be your harua?" you furrow your eyebrows as you look over at k.

"you can't be serious." he shrugged at your answer. "no offense, but i don't think you want me to do what i do when harua and i watch a movie."

you hear k grumble causing you to look over. he wiped his hand over his face before giving you a smile. "try me."

you look at him for a moment to see if he was actually serious. when you showed no sign of joking, you shifted on the couch, moving closer to k. you felt him stiffen when you lay your head on his thigh, though he relaxes fast.

"play with my hair."

"i'm sorry?" you laugh at k's question.

"you said you were going to do what harua did. play with my hair."

it took k a moment to respond, causing you to believe he wasn't going to. but he lifted up his hand before running it through your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp. since you were watching the movie, you couldn't see the smile on his face when he felt you relax into him. likewise with you, k couldn't see the blush on your face at your boldness.

"can i ask you a question?" you ask after a few minutes of the two of you watching tv.

"you just did, little human."

you scoff at his answer causing him to laugh. "alright smartass. seriously though. what happened between you and aric?"

"it's a long story." you hear k sigh.

"all we have is time." you retort. you glance up to see him deep in thought. "but you don't have to if you don't want to. i was just curious."

"you deserve to know since we brought you into this mess. what did harua tell you?" k asks.

"just that you two were friends turned enemy."

"we grew up together." you listen closely as k tell you the story. "everyone wondered how we got along so well since i'm a vampire and he's a wolf. neither one of us ever questioned it though. things didn't start to happen until he found his mate, sarah."

you had read enough to know what a mate is. "she started to change him. he was turning into someone i didn't know. and then came creating a pack."

"what do you mean creating a pack?" you ask him.

he twirls you hair between his fingers as he answers. "once a wolf finds their mate, they can create packs of their own. most wolfs spend decades finding the perfect matches for their pack, similar to vampires. but sarah just made things more difficult."

"how so?"

"she was making him turn people who should've never been wolves. people who had done horrible things while a being a human, and even worse things as wolves. i tried to talk to him about it, but he never listened. told me to stick to my clan, and he'll stick to his pack. i should've done something sooner."

"what happened?"

"one of his pack members attacked an innocent kid. nearly killed him if i hadn't saved him."

"and by saved him, you mean you turned him?" you ask. he hums a yes, watching as the gears clicked in your head. "was it taki?"

"it was." he answered. "i wasn't at the age yet to start a clan, but aric's pack made me become one before i was ready. and the worst part is, he didn't even care."

"he soon caught the attention of other vampires. normally we don't interfere with these kinds of things, but the wolves were doing anything, so we had to."

"what did you guys do?"

"do you remember meeting alex?" you nod your head at the question. he was one of the oldest vampires at the dinner last week. "he came up with a plan to confront aric and sarah. things were supposed to become violent. we just wanted to talk, but sarah told him that we were going to kill all of them, which caused them to attack. aric went for me while sarah went for violet."

"who's violet?" you ask.

"violet was alex's beloved." you guess you looked confused because he explained it to you. "a beloved is the vampire version of a mate. it's something you could only do once."

you didn't know if you wanted the answer to your next question, but you couldn't help it. "do you have one?"

"i've never had one." he answers, and you try to not let your relief show. "i made a promise to not have one until aric was dead."

"is that why he wants to kill me? because he thinks i'm your beloved." k nods his head at your question. "but why?"

k let out a sigh before he continued with the story. "sarah killed violet in the attack. in return, alex killed sarah. aric went crazy and tried to kill alex, but he ended up being outnumbered by us. he retreated, but not before threatening to kill my beloved as revenge for his dying. he sees it as my fault that she died because i wouldn't leave it alone."

"have you seen him since that night?"

"no. i didn't see him at the dinner either. that's why the guys, along with alex's clan, are trying to find out where he is. because it won't stop until he's dead."

"are you going to be the one to kill him?"

"little human, that right is solely alex's." k answers you.

"makes sense." you hum. "though i still hate that you're not out there helping."

"i'm right where i belong. keeping you safe."

you already felt guilty that you couldn't help in any way, and k's words just made you feel worse. even though you know he didn't mean anything by it. and now one of the most powerful vampires can't do his job because he is protecting a useless human. you felt your eyes water causing you to sit up from k's lap. you stretch your legs, making sure to keep your back to him, so he couldn't see your face.

"i'm sorry you're here protecting useless me." k froze at your words.

"the last thing you are is useless." k tells you, but you make no effort to acknowledge them. "yn, look at me."

you shake your head, faking a yawn before trying to get up. "i'm fine. just tired. i'm going to head to bed."

before you stood up, k's long arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards him. you let out a gasp as you landed in k's lap. his other hand gently grasps your face, making you look at him. your nose brushes his as you meet his gaze.

"you are not useless, do you understand me?" you nod your head at his question. "i didn't have to come here. the original plan was for harua to come here. i was the one who insisted on being here with you."

"why? you don't even know me."

"i know you well enough." he moved his hand away from your face to where it rested on your lower back. "i know you would do anything for the people you care about. someone useless wouldn't go to a vampire dinner just to help out someone they've never met before. plus, harua has told me a lot about you. he also thinks very highly of you."

you choke out a laugh as you wipe your eyes. "thank you."

"you're welcome, little human."

you expected k to release his grip on you, so you get off of him. instead, he tightened his grip on you, pulling you closer and resting his chin on your shoulder. you could feel his eyes on the side of your face as you avoided eye contact with him.

"are you okay now, yn?"

before you could answer, you heard a phone ring. both of yours were off, so it had to be the satellite phone. you quickly stood up from k's lap, and he ran off into the kitchen. you quickly run off after him. but by the time you got into the kitchen, he was already on the phone.

"harua, calm down. i can't understand you." you couldn't hear what harua was saying, but by the expression on k's face, you could tell it wasn't good. "how long? okay. no, don't worry. i'm not going to let anything happen to her."

k hung up the phone before looking over at you. "we need to go. they know where we're at."

"h-how?" you stutter, fear coursing through your body.

"i don't know. harua just said that aric sent a group this way. some of the guys are on their way, but aric's group has a thirty minute head start. they'll be here any minute."

you nod at k's explanation. "but k, it's been snowing nonstop over the past three days. the car's more than likely snowed it. how are we going to get out?"

"fuck." k cursed, running a hand through his hair. his head snapped towards the front door. "stay inside."

he sped out of the room. you assumed he going to check your theory. he didn't come back though right away, and that scared you. you walk out of the kitchen and towards the front door. you peak out of the window to see if you could see any sign of him. instead, some guy banged on the window making you jump back and scream.

"come on, sweetheart. i don't bite." he growls with a smile. "hard."

you jump when he's suddenly ripped away from the window. you hear multiple growls, but you couldn't tell how many wolves were outside. you also thought you heard a shout of pain come from k. you wanted to run outside to check on him, but listened to his command to stay inside.

it went quiet outside, and you took another chance to look out the window again. you didn't see anybody, but it was hard to see since it was dark. you heard the back door open, making you freeze. you looked around you for a place to hide when your name was called.

"yn!"

"i'm here." you answer k's panicked tone, moving towards the kitchen where the back door was. your eyes widened at the state of him before rushing over to where he was leaning on the counter. "oh my god, k. are you okay?"

he was covered in blood. his lip was busted, and he had a bruise forming on his left cheek. his hand was clutching his stomach, and you removed it to see 4 deep claw marks going across his stomach. your worried eyes look back up at him.

"what do we do?"

"i need you to go and hide. i'll take care of them as they show up." you stop him from moving when he turns to go back outside.

"like hell i'm letting you go back out there! you'll die."

"that's a sacrifice i'm willing to make."

"it's not one i'm willing to make." you all but yell at him as you wrack your brain, trying to come up with a solution. "do you have any blood stored? will that help?"

he shook his head. "animal blood won't heal me."

"then what-" you stop yourself as you look at him. "will mine?"

"i'm not drinking from you." he refused.

"if you want to go back out there, you will." you demand. he still look unsure, so you kept trying to convince him. "k, you're pale, and you look one step away from death. and that's saying a lot because you're already dead!"

"yn-"

"k, please." you beg him, holding on to his wrist. "bite me. i'm begging you."

you hold out your wrist to him. he looks at your wrist for a moment before grabbing it. but instead of bringing it to his mouth, he pulled you to his chest. your hands land on his chest as you look up at him in shock. he wasn't looking at you though. instead, he was looking at your neck.

"here." you move your hair out of the way as well as moving your shirt.

"yn, are you sure?" k's eyes met yours.

"i wouldn't be offering if i wasn't sure. bite me."

k's hand slid up your body, wrapping around the back of your neck as he leans down. his breath hits your skin as his lips ghost over your neck. you almost jump in shock when he places a kiss to the spot where your shoulder and neck meet.

"i'm sorry."

you make a small pained sound when his teeth puncture your skin. his arms hold you steady as you fall into his embrace. the pain quickly fades away, and it confuses you when it turns into being somewhat pleasurable. you grip his hoodie as you bite down on your lip, so you don't make any noise.

once he's had enough, he pulls away from your neck. he places one last kiss to the spot before pulling away from you. his eyes are filled with worry. "are you okay?"

"i feel like i should be asking you that."

he no longer has the split lip or bruise on his face. his color was also looking better. and when you look down at his stomach, the claw marks are still there, but there more shallow than they were before.

his fingers brush your cheek, bringing your gaze back to him. he opens his mouth to say something, but a howl stops him. he looks behind him before back at you.

"hide. and don't come out until i come get you."

you turn, quickly running up the stairs. you make it to your room, grabbing the vanity chair before going into the closet. you put the chair under the door handle before going back to the very corner. you heard the faint sound of fighting farther away from the house, so you thought you were safe for the moment.

that moment was ruined when you heard the front door slam open. you heard a set of footsteps searching around the house before making their way upstairs. you place your hand over your mouth as they slam through the bedroom door as well.

the door handle to the closet move, but the chair stop it. you cry out as they slam their shoulder against the door. after three tries, the chair breaks and the door flies open making you scream. you look up to a guy well over 6 foot looking down at you.

"well. well. well." he drawls, crouching down to look at you. "what do we have here?"

"leave me alone." you kick at him when he tries to get close to you. you manage to kick his throat, making him fall on his knees coughing. you get up and manage to run around him, but his hand wraps around your ankle before you get to far. he yanks, and you hit the ground hard, nearly knocking the breath out of you.

"let go of me, you mangy mut!"

"watch it, baby. insults turn me on."

you try to pull away from him, but his grip was too tight. you scream as he pulls you towards him. your fingers graze something, causing you to see one of the chair pieces laying next to you. you grab it, lunging forward and stabbing him. he yells out, letting go of you.

"you little bitch!" he yells as you move away from him again. "fuck bringing you to aric. i'm going to kill you myself."

you freeze at the threat for a moment before moving into action. you get up, running out of the room and into the hall. you scream when you run into someone. their arms wrap around you, holding you steady.

"yn, it's me!" you recognize the voice as harua. you look up, never feeling more relieved as you meet the gaze of your best friend. you throw your arms around him, burrying your face into his neck.

"there's a wolf in there. he tried to-"

someone sped past you causing you to stop. you look back when you heard the man yell again before hearing a thump. k walks back out of the room, now covered in twice as much blood as before.

"i'm sorry we couldn't get here fast enough." k apologizes as he walks up to you two. his eyes scan over you to check for any injuries. relief fills him when he didn't see any.

"is it over?"

"no." k answers, looking down at you. "harua is going to take you out of here while we stay."

"be careful." you tell him. he smiles at you, bending down and kissing your forehead before walking away.

"always, little human."

you didn't bother grabbing anything but your shoes and k's jacket on the way out, slipping them on before following after harua. he stopped walking, head snapping to one direction before turning towards you. he picked up up before speeding over to an already started car. he placed you in the car seat before speeding over to his side, but before he could open the door, you saw something move behind him.

"harua, look out!"

you let out a sigh, feeling like you were on autopilot, as you clock out of work for the weekend. it had been almost two weeks since the cabin. it was also the last time you saw k. it was the last time anyone had seen k for that matter.

that night, fuma showed up just in time to keep harua from getting attacked by a wolf. it was the first time you had ever seen one shifted, and they were even larger than you thought. the one that almost attacked harua was well over 6 feet.

after that, he got the two of you out of there safely. the two of you didn't stop until you reached harua's place, which is where you've been staying for the past two weeks, but not anymore. aric hasn't made any moves, so today was the first day you were staying back at your apartment. you told harua it was because you wanted things to go back to normal. that wasn't a full lie, but there was more to it.

you just wanted to be alone.

especially because you knew your best friend was lying to you. he told you that k ran off after the fight, and none of them have been able to find him. they also said they haven't been able to contact him either. you made things easier for them by making them think you believe them, but it was far from what you think. not like you've been able to think much due to your anger.

you were mad at harua for lying to you, but for some reason, you were more mad a k. you didn't understand why you were mad at him. the two of you had only known each other for 4 days prior to him leaving. you two were barely friends, but it still hurt that he left with saying good bye. he didn't even make sure you were okay. the only thing he left you with was a hundred questions, some conflicting feelings, and a new scar on your neck from where he bit you.

you rub at your scar as you make your way back home with some ice cream and a bottle of wine. two choices that you knew k would hate, causing you to shake your head to get rid of the thoughts. as soon as you get home, you change into some sweats before opening the bottle of wine. you paired it with some tv show you were binging.

you were about three glasses of wine in when someone knocked on your door. you rolled your eyes, instantly recognizing the knock as harua's. you groan, putting your drink down before getting up. "harua, i told you i'm fine."

you didn't get an answer as you opened the door. your eyes widened when the person at your door wasn't just harua. it was harua and k. a very beaten and bloody k. as soon as you fully opened the door, he lost his balance, almost falling if you didn't the two of you didn't catch him. you wrap your arms around his waist. the two of you were struggling to hold him up.

you look over at harua. "what the fuck rua?"

"i'll explain. just help me get him to the couch." you look at him for a moment before turning to k.

"how come every time i see you, you're covered in blood?" he laughed, but it turned into a cough before he grasped at his side. you lift up your leg, closing your door before you two drag him into the living room. "if you get blood on my couch, you're buying me a new one."

"yes ma'am."

the two of you helped him sit down. he laid his head back, resting on the back of the couch before closing his eyes. you examine him, but you couldn't tell what was wrong with him due to the blood.

"care to tell me why you two are here?" you ask harua. he looks at you before glaring at k.

"you're guess is as good as mine. all i know is he shows up to my place injured, and he won't let us touch him. even mj offered her blood to help heal him, but he refused."

you look over at k. "why did he refuse?"

"he said he wanted you." harua answered. it didn't take a genius for you to figure out his words. he wanted your blood. "did he feed off of you at the cabin?"

"once. during the attack before you guys got there."

his eyes widen at your answer. "and you didn't tell me?"

"i didn't think it was important. besides, it's not like you haven't been completely honest with me either!" you raise your voice slightly.

"i couldn't!" harua exclaimed. he motioned to the vampire laying on your couch. "he wouldn't let me. you know i can't break his commands."

you look away from him and back at k. this time when you look over at k, his eyes were open and looking straight at you. you notice that his skin was more pale than before, but you still couldn't bring yourself closer to him. "so you disappear without telling me a thing, force him to lie to me, and you expect me to help you?"

"i'm sorry." he apologizes. you break eye contact when you see the guilt in his eyes. "i'll explain everything. i promise."

you look between him and harua. you know however mad you are at him, you couldn't live with yourself if you refused to help him and something happened to him. you let out a sigh before moving over to k. he groans as he shifts on the couch when you sit next to him.

"same spot?" you ask, moving your hair when he nods. the same as before, his hand slides around the back of your next as leans in. he presses a kiss to the scar before you could feel him hesitating. "it's okay, k."

that was all he needed to continue. you hear harua gasp as k bites your neck. the feelings you got before were somehow even stronger causing you bite your lip to avoid making any sound. you don't know how or why you trusted him enough to not take too much blood from you, or even kill you. but right when you felt slightly lightheaded, he pulled away.

"thank you." he whispers as he pulls away from you. "i know i don't deserve it."

you nod your head, feeling too choked up to say anything to him as you move away from him. he lays his head back down before closing his eyes. you watch it looks like he falls asleep, but then you notice his breathing slow down. you shake his shoulder, trying to wake him up, but he doesn't move.

you look over to harua in a panic. "what's wrong with him?"

"nothing." he answers. "it's something vampires do when they're healing. we go into this coma like state."

"meaning?"

"he won't wake up until his body thinks it's healed enough." you look over at him when he said that. you know now that he didn't have a choice, but you were still upset with him. you wanted to cool down before you talked to either one of them, but now it looks like you weren't going to get that.

"great, so i'm stuck with you two."

"yn-" harua tries to talk to you, but you move away from him. you grab your wine glass before leaving the living room.

"i need another drink."

you could see harua from your kitchen as you make yourself another drink. you watch him move k into a laying position before covering him up with a blanket you had on the back of the couch. if you weren't so conflicted, you would laugh at the fact that k was so tall, his feet hung over the arm of the couch.

after he was done with k, he met you in the kitchen. without speaking, you walk over, grabbing another wine glass and filling it before giving it to harua. he thanked you before taking a sip. you grabbed your glass before moving to sit at your counter.

"i'm sorry i lied." you look over at harua. "i didn't want to. i wanted to tell you the truth, but he told me not to tell you anything."

"why?" you ask.

"i have my theories. and questions for when he wakes up." harua answers. "all we knew is him and alex were hunting aric. i didn't lie when i said we hadn't seen him, but he did reach out to us a few times."

"did he kill him?" harua nods his head at your question causing you to let out a sigh of relief. you didn't have to continuously look over your shoulder anymore. "good."

"why didn't you tell me k bit you?" harua asked you. you shrugged your shoulders as you played with your drink.

"like i said. i didn't think it was that important." you answer. "those wolves would've killed him if i didn't."

"but why your neck?"

"because he asked?" you look over at him confused. "why does that matter?"

harua lets out a sigh. "we don't normally bite people on the neck."

that got your attention. "you don't? then where to you normally bite?"

"we normally go for the wrist." harua answered. "if i needed blood from you, no matter how long we knew each other, i would bite your wrist. never your neck."

"is it like… i don't know, illegal or something?"

harua shook his head. "no, it's just something personal. most of the time, a vampire only bites the neck of someone their extremely attracted to. only it's more."

"more?" you ask, very confused by everything. "so you're saying k's attracted to me?"

"no." he answered before shaking his head. "i mean, yes. but it's more."

"you keep talking in riddles, and i'm going to throw my drink at you."

"we only bite the necks of someone we want to spent our lives with." your eyes widen as harua's outburst. you almost thought you misheard him. you asked him to repeat himself, and he said the same thing.

"you're telling me the man passed out on my couch wants to spend the rest of his eternal life with me?" harua nods his head at your question. "how? i just met him."

"fuma knew that mj was his beloved an hour after they met." harua shrugged. you stopped mid sip as his words hit you. you look over at him to see him watching k. he didn't even realize what he had just told you. you turn around to see that k was still asleep on your couch.

you didn't know if you wanted to believe that you were k's beloved. you thought that he was attractive, and that you had some feelings for him that you couldn't explain. but you didn't think he felt the same. could human's feel that pull as well? and why didn't he tell you? instead, he just abandoned you without a single word. you didn't even realize you were crying until harua called your name.

"bubs, are you okay?"

"no." you answer honestly. "you just told me that i could be his beloved. i don't know how i'm supposed to react to that."

"i was just giving an example. i don't know if that's true, or…" harua trailed off as he watched you as you watched k. "you feel the pull too, don't you?"

you swallow, not answering him as you stood up. you grab your phone before putting it in your pocket. "i'm going for a walk. i need some air."

"yn-" you didn't listen to him. you slipped on your shoes before running out the door, slamming it behind you.

an hour later you found yourself alone sitting in a park. it was starting to get cold now that the sun had set, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. you just pulled up your hood and tucked yourself into your hoodie.

your phone laying next to you started to ring, making you groan. you had already had 3 missed calls and about 100 texts from harua trying to check on you. you messaged him once saying that you were fine and that you wanted to be alone. but in typical harua fashion, he kept trying. the last message you got was him saying that k woke up, and the two left your apartment.

to your surprise, it wasn't harua. it an unknown number. you stared at it for a moment before you decided to pick it up. you pick up the phone, answering it before putting it up to your ear. "hello."

"yn?" a female voice came from your phone. "it's mj."

"oh, hey." you mumble, fidgeting with your sleeve. "what's up?"

"i just wanted to check in on you. i know the last time we talked you were mad at k for leaving, and i know they just came over unannounced." she explained.

you scoff as you look back at it. "i don't know how i'm feeling. i just found out my best friend was lying to me."

"if it makes you feel any better, i didn't know either. i'm still debating on killing fuma for lying to me or not." you laugh at her threat before realizing something. she's the beloved to a vampire. maybe she could answer your questions.

"fuma's your beloved, right?"

"he is." she answered. "is this about k?"

"how'd you know?"

she laughed. "honey, i knew you were his beloved as soon as he laid his eyes on you. i've never seen him act like this."

"how so?"

"well for starters, he went into hiding for you." she answered. "k is always in front of everyone, keeping them safe. especially when it came to aric. so the fact that he left it completely up to alex and the guys says a lot."

"it's not technically confirmed if we're… you know." you trail off.

"based on the argument k and harua just had, i think it's confirmed. fuma had to go over and separate them."

"how did you feel when you and fuma met?"

"when we first met, it was like an instant connection. i immediately felt at home around him. then there was this pull." she started to explain. her last sentence felt familiar to you.

"pull?"

"yeah." she answered. "it was almost like i was connected to a string. i was on one end and fuma was on the other, so it felt like we just kept gravitating towards each other. i always wanted to be near him."

"is that how he felt as well?"

she let out a sigh. "he's tried to explain this to me multiple times. he said it felt stronger for him than it did me which i didn't think was possible. the pull nearly drove me crazy. he said once he felt that pull, he almost instantly knew i was his beloved. but it was only solidified when he bit me."

"so they have to bite you to know for sure?" she hummed out a yes at your question. "k bit me at the cabin."

"so that's why he went crazy." she mused with a laugh. "fuma said he'd never seen k loose his cool like he did after you left. he said it like he flipped a switch. killed every wolf that was left before leaving without a word. that's also why k wouldn't feed from me and demanded to go to you."

you furrow your eyebrows. "i thought that was because fuma and you were together."

"you are partially right." she answered. "if k fed from me, that would be completely fine. but if a vampire has a human beloved, the only person they can feed from their beloved. it's like a scent thing."

"scent thing?"

"the way fuma described it is like they become basically obsessed with your scent. if it doesn't smell like you, they're not going to want it." so that explains why k keeps his face buried in your neck both before and after feeding from you.

"so, the only way for k to feed now is from me?"

"i mean, he can still feed from animals which is what most of the guys do anyway, but fuma says it just doesn't feel the same." she answered. "but the two of you aren't fully beloveds yet."

"how so?" you ask.

"unless you two have had sex and didn't tell us." you gasp at her words causing her to laugh. "i'm taking that as a no."

"no sex." you tell her before rubbing your hand over your face. "i don't know what to do. i'm mad he left without telling me anything. but-"

"but the pull makes you not want to be. it can be a bitch. trust me." she finished your sentence. "are you going to let him explain though?"

"once i calm down."

"good. you're good for him, yn." you heard her talk to someone before she spoke to you again. "i have to go. we'll talk later, okay?"

"okay."

you hang up the phone before shoving it back in your pocket. you sat on the bench for a little while long trying to clear your thoughts. it wasn't until your fingers started to tingle that you got up and started walking home.

you felt conflicted. this pull that mj explained really made you want to instantly forgive k, but you yourself couldn't bring yourself to. you know you were going to make any decision until you heard k's side. he can't shut you out anymore. if he really wants this to work and be with you, he can't just not leave without telling you and keeping things that involve you from you.

you open the door before sliding off your shoes. you take your keys out of your pocket and hang them up when you felt something. or more like someone. you somehow knew that k was in your apartment. you should've knew better than to believe he would he would leave you alone. you didn't even bother to look for him, knowing that he could come to you.

you walk into the kitchen, noticing that harua had cleaned up your mess in the kitchen. you walked over to the fridge, grabbing you newly bought ice cream before grabbing a spoon before sitting on your counter. right as you open it and take a bite, you could hear footsteps come up from the living room. you didn't look up from the ice cream, not ready to meet his gaze just yet. he stood opposite of you, leaning on the counter while watching you. he stayed quiet, as did you, but you know he was waiting for you to speak first.

"how long?"

you hear k let out a sigh as he shifts. "i had theories before the dinner, but it was confirmed at the cabin."

"and yet you still left without telling me anything." you scoff before eating a bite of ice cream before setting it down. "i had no idea if you were okay. you could've been dead for all i knew."

you still refused to meet his gaze as he moved to stand in front of you. your breath hitches as his hand brushes along your cheek. and as much as you don't want to, you find yourself leaning into his hand. "i'm sorry i left without telling you. i panicked. i just found my beloved, and the fear of him taking you away from me was too much. i knew if i saw you, or even spoke to you, i wouldn't be able to do what i needed to do to keep you safe."

"harua said you and alex killed him?" you were looking up enough to see him nod his head. "is that what happened to you?"

"he had more wolves there than we were anticipating. i took them on while alex killed him."

you then remember that when he came to you, he was injured and covered in blood. you look to see he had changed his clothes. "are you okay now?"

"thanks to you." he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. once he pulled away, you finally looked up, meeting his dark gaze. as soon as your eyes met his, he let out a breath before softly smiling. "hello, my beloved."

three words.

three words from him was all it took for your walls to come crashing down. you blink back tears as you throw your arms around his neck. his arms immediately wrapped around you, holding you just as tight as you were holding him. you rest your head on his shoulder when he pulls you closer, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"i'm so sorry about how i handled things." he mumbles, lips grazing your neck as he spoke. "if i could go back and do things differently, i would. the last thing i wanted to do is hurt you."

you let out a sigh. "i know. i understand now why you did what you did. just please don't do it again."

"never." he agreed. he pulled just enough to press his forehead to yours. his hands cup your cheeks before he speaks again. "i'm never going to leave your side again. and i know you probably don't trust me, but believe me when i say i'm going to spent the rest of our lives doing everything i can until you do trust me."

there wasn't a doubt in him that he was in fact going to do what he said he was. the determination in his eyes said enough. but your focus soon shifted to something else. his lips. they were so close to yours, and you found yourself craving to know what they felt like against yours.

you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. he let out a groan, like he had been waiting for this, before instantly kissing you back. to say it was the best kiss you've ever had would be an understatement. the way his lips molded to yours like the two of you were made for each other. you never wanted to pull away, especially when his tongue brushed against yours, but you did eventually when your lungs started screaming for air.

once his lips left yours, he moved before attaching them to your neck. you tilt your head as he kissed down your neck before stopping at his mark. he didn't go any further though, stopping before anything got heated. you could tell he didn't want to, groaning as he placed one last kiss on your mark before pulling away. his eyes were dark, and his lips were swollen making him look even more attractive.

"i want to take you on a date before…" he trailed off, but you knew what he meant. he wanted to take you out before he made you fully his. you almost missed the slight pink to his cheeks.

"so, no fake titles this time?" he lets out a chuckle at your question.

"no fake titles. just a man taking his beautiful beloved out to dinner." you felt yourself flush at his words, but you didn't want to give him that satifaction.

"what a shame. the fake titles kind of turned me on."

the vampire in front of you threw his head back with a groan. you eyed his neck, wanting to place your lips on him. but alas, you weren't going to start anything before your date. you had to make him suffer somehow for the last 2 weeks. once his gaze met yours again, his eyes were even darker than before.

"you're not going to make this easy on me, are you?" you smile at his question. you pull him back down for another kiss. this one softer and shorter than the last one. you brushed your lips against his as you pulled away.

"absouletly not."

to say you made the next week for k miserable would be an understatement. you quickly learned that the man is very sensitive to touch, and of course you used that to your advantage. he took it very well, in your opinion, but there were a few times he would slip.

the two of you developed a routine. every day after work, he would pick you up before taking you home. he would then make you dinner because 'my beloved will not eat only ice cream and take out for the rest of her life.'

though since he was making you dinner, the two of you had to go grocery shopping which was a fun experience. because the one that is next to your house is where your ex works. the ex who still isn't over you. normally you bring harua with you because at least he scares your ex enough for him to leave you alone.

k left you alone for not even 2 seconds before your ex came up to you. conversation started out simple until he asked you out. but before you could say no for what seemed like the hundredth time, you felt a hard chest press against your back. k's arm slid over your should as he no doubt glared at the man in front of him.

"baby, is this man bothering you?"

that sentence alone was enough for him to run away from you two. you laughed, finding the situation funny. that was until k turned you towards him. you didn't even have a chance to question him before his lips were on yours- his tongue immediately sliding past your lips. his hand had a soft but firm grip on the side of your throat, thumb pressed against your pulse point. it was only when a small moan left your lips that the two of you pulled away from each other, realizing that you two were literally in the middle of the food aisle.

he would make enough food for the both of you to eat because he said he didn't want you to eat alone. that alone melted your heart. after dinner, you two would lounge around, eating talking or watching movies like you did at the cabin. although this time, he wouldn't let you more than two inches away from him. most of the time, your head was either in his lap, or you were laying back on his chest in between his legs.

that second position often got you in trouble. because you could so easily pull him down to you, locking lips with his. one time, you moved your hand up before raking your fingers through his hair. he had you pick up and straddling him before you could even blink. the two of you soon got carried away, especially you. without thinking, you moved your hips against his. you felt him harden beneath you as he pulled back with a groan, laying his head on your shoulder.

"i'm sorry." you apologized.

"don't be, beloved." he kissed your cheek before helping you get off of him. he then spent the next 10 minutes in your bathroom. at least you were nice enough not to question him when he came back.

a week had finally passed, and today was the day k was going to take you on your date. you hadn't seem him today due to the vampire that was laying on your bed- harua. the two of you having spent the day hanging out together. you knew you weren't going to be able to stay made at harua. not when he showed up to your house the day after everything came out crying. you instantly forgave him.

"do you know where he's taking me?" you ask as you fix your hair. harua grumbled rolling over to where he was on his stomach. you met his gaze through the mirror.

"i do. and don't even think of asking where."

"i would never." you laugh at the accusation. "i just want to know what to where."

you watch as harua gets up before strolling into your closet like he's done a hundred times before. you hear him mumble to himself for a minute before he walks out holding a black dress. you instantly recognize it as something harua forced you to buy not long ago.

"rua, i can't wear that!"

he put the dress down before turning to you. "you are even if i have to force you in it."

it wasn't that you didn't like the dress. it was pretty. it had a long sleeved black dress with a squared neckline that showed some cleavage. the issues was the length. it only went to right above your mid thigh, and it had a slit that went even higher.

you let out a whine. "why that one?"

"honestly?" harua asks. you turn around to look at him, not sure if you want his answer. "not only do you look sexy in this dress, you're going to blow k away. and that's exactly what we need from him."

you raise your eyebrows. "you're still mad about last week, aren't you?"

"yes!" he exclaimed. "he hurt you, and he made me hurt you by forcing me to lie to you. i'm going to hold a grudge against him for the rest of my life."

"but i forgave him." you stand up, making your way over to him.

"doesn't mean i have to yet." he told you. "i'm still thinking of a revenge plot, and you're going to help me when i do it."

"okay." you instantly agreed before grabbing the dress. you go to your closet before putting it on, adding some accessories that you think go well with the dress.

"wear those black heels i like." harua called out from the bedroom. you finished putting on your ear ring with an eye roll.

"okay, mom."

"don't make me come in there." while you were doing the finishing touches, someone knocked on your front door. you could only assume it was k as it was almost time for him to pick you up. "i got it, bubs. finish getting ready."

you hear him leave your room. you hear him great k, or more like threaten him just like he's been doing for the past week before letting him into your apartment. he's your 'number 1 protector' as he calls it.

once you were ready, you grabbed a small should bag before walking out of the room. you hear k make a noise that almost sounded like a growl, and harua saying you're welcome as you walk into the living room. you look up to see k looking at you like deer in headlights. he doesn't say anything, but his eyes take you in, making you shudder.

"i've successfully broken him, so i can go now." harua laughs before walking over to you. he presses a light kiss to your cheek, careful not to mess up your makeup. "i'll call you later. if you don't answer, i know what happened."

"rua!" you hear his laugh as your front door closes. you turn back around, nearly jumping when k appears in front of you. his hands grip your waist as his eyes meet yours. "hi, k."

"hello, my beloved." k smiles down at you before leaning down. you meet him halfway, happy you wore transfer proof makeup as you kissed him. he squeezed your waist as he pulled away. "you are the most beautiful women i've ever seen. i almost just want to keep you here all to myself."

you feel your face blush at his words. "come on. you'll have me all to yourself when we get back."

you smile when you hear him groan as you walk away. you grab your keys before placing them into your bag along with you phone. he leads you to his car with his hand on your back. once the two of you are in the car, he drove you guys to wherever k was taking you.

while he was driving, you were able to look over at him. he looked fresh off of the runway in his suit. he kept his hair natural though, and not slicked back like how it was when you first met. you chalked that up to you telling him this was how you like his hair best.

"like what you see?" you smirk at k's question, not ashamed at all that you were caught. not like you were being sneaky in the first place.

you shifted in your seat, leaning on the center console some. you reached over, running your hands through his hair. "do you remember at the cabin when you asked me what my first impression of you was? do you want to know what it was?"

"don't do this to me." k pouted, clearly not liking your teasing.

you ignored his request. "i thought that you were the most attractive man i've ever seen. i'm pretty sure my exact thoughts were that you looked like you just walked off of a movie set."

"you're going to be the death of me." he sighed, shifting in his seat. you chuckled, deciding to give him a break from the teasing. you leaned over one last time kissing his cheek before returning back to your original position.

once you arrived at the restaurant, k kept his hand in yours as the waitress led you to a table. it was in the back corner, which k knew you preferred so you weren't too crowded.

you were instantly greeted by your waiter when you sat down. k ordered you two some wine while the two of you looked over the menu. once he was back with the drinks, he took your orders before leaving again, but not before checking you out, which you didn't notice because you weren't paying attention. but k did.

he brushed it off though, forgetting it once he got pulled into a conversation with you. you were telling him some story about you and harua from college when the waiter came back with your food. you thanked him with a polite smile before going back to your story. but once again, the waiter was looking at you once again. he even did a double take once he walked away. you still didn't notice, too into your story, but you did notice k's emotion shift.

"k?" his eyes quickly met yours. "are you okay?"

"of course i am. why wouldn't i be when i have the most beautiful date sitting in front of me?" he reached over, grabbing your hand. you smiled at his words. "now, finish telling me your story, pretty."

you did as he asked, continuing to tell the story while you two ate. that was when the waiter came up for the fourth time, asking if everything was okay. you both agreed, and this time, you finally noticed what was wrong with k when you caught the waiter looking at your chest, except k didn't catch it since he was so busy watching you.

you then started to keep an eye on your waiter, and you caught him multiple times staring at you. you weren't going to bring it up to k since he was finally starting to go back to your smiley beloved, but you did ask him for his coat. he immediately took it off before draping it over your shoulders.

after the two of you finished eating, you two were still chatting when you had to use the bathroom. as you got up to leave, k noticed once again that the waiter was staring at you. he finally had enough, and he was ready to leave before he did something stupid.

as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom, you were pressed against the wall by your clearly jealous beloved. his head ducks down, kissing your neck- paying close attention to your mark which you have learned how sensitive it is. you let out a whimper when his fangs graze over your mark. "if i see one more person look at you, i'm going to loose my mind. please let me take you home."

"take me home k."

as soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, you were pressed into the door- k's lips instantly going to yours. his hands were roaming everywhere he could reach. they grazed the end of your dress before he gripped your thighs, pulling you into his arms with ease. you let out a gasp as your legs wrapped around him, and k took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips.

your hands started to unbutton his shirt, but apparently it wasn't fast enough because k ripped it open with one hand, causing buttons to fly everywhere. you smile into the kiss at his actions before sliding the shirt off of him. his hands gripped your ass, squeezing as he moved you away from the door. your lips left his, kissing his neck while your hands explored his toned chest.

he moved you two to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed before pulling your lips to his again. your dress started to ride up, bunching at your waist and showing your black lace underwear. k let out a groan into you mouth as his hands ran over the fabric.

k found the zipper for your dress, and you pulled away before he pulled the fabric over your head. his eyes darkened at the sigh of your body, slowly running his hands up your sides before grazing the matching black bra. he met your eyes before kissing you again.

"my god, you are breathtaking." he mumbled against your lips before he started kissing down your neck. "and you're all mine. isn't that right, baby?"

you let out a moan when k suck on the skin where his mark is. "yes, k. i'm yours."

"good girl." he praises, and you feel yourself become even more wet with his words. his hands graze the edge of your bra. "can i take this off?" you nod your head, not saying anything. you jumped, gasping when k's hand landed on your ass. not hard enough to hurt- just enough to send a spark through you. "use you words baby."

"yes, take it off."

once the words leave your mouth, he unhooks your bra before sliding it down your arms, leaving you topless. k eyes your breast with hunger before squeezing them in his palms, making you gasp. you feel him smile against your skin before his lips replace one of his hands. a moan falls past your lips as he sucks on your nipple while twisting the other one with his fingers.

your hands twist in his hair as continues to suck on your breast, leaving marks. his hand falls away from your other breast, slowly sliding down your stomach before trailing the edge of your underwear.

"please k." you beg, wanting some kind of relief. he hummed against your breast, pulling away for a moment to smile at you.

"you sound so pretty when you beg for me, beloved." his hand slipped past your underwear- fingers gliding along your soaked slit. "you're soaked for me."

you let out a moan as k presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing gently, and giving you the relief you want. his other fingers tease your entrance before he slides one finger in.

"fuck, k." you moan, letting your head fall on his shoulder as he starts moving his finger in and out of you in a slow pace. he then adds a second finger, stretching you out before increasing his pace. he was rewarded with another moan of his name from you.

"i'm never going to get enough of you, beloved." he whispers, lips grazing your ear. his fingers curl inside of you, making you arch your back. your chest presses against his as you tighten around him. "are you close? is that why your squeezing around my fingers?"

"y-yes." you moan out when he curls his fingers again. "i'm c-close. fuck."

he smirks at your answer, increasing his speed and watching you come undone in front of him. your nails dig into his shoulders as k brings you over the edge. k wraps his arm around you, holding you tightly to him as you reach your orgasm. he slows his pace as you come down before pulling his fingers out of you.

"that was the most beautiful thing i've ever seen." k presses his lips to yours- you responding instantly. once he pulls away from you, you watch as he puts his hand that was covered in you in his mouth, sucking them clean. he groans as he tastes you. "i need more of you. will you let me taste you properly, beloved?"

as soon as the word yes is out of your mouth, you're on your back in the blink of an eye. he kneels in between your legs, running his hands along your thighs until he reaches your underwear. you lift your hips for him when he starts to slowly slide them down your legs. once you were completely bare in front of him, his eyes raked over every inch of your body. and even though he already gave you one orgasm, you felt yourself becoming a little self conscious. you try to move your hands to cover yourself, but k's hands hold yours down.

"none of that, beloved." he scolded, letting go of your hands. "there is no need to be self conscious with a body like this."

k bends down to line his face up with your heat. his lips press to your inner thigh before he looks up at you. "everything about you drives me crazy. your scent. your blood. i feel like i'm loosing my mind."

"i've been loosing my mind about you since i saw you for the first time, so i guess we're even." k laughs at your words, pressing on last kiss to your thigh before moving closer to you. you let out a gasp when he licks along your heat. "oh my god, k!"

he smirks, watching as you jump when he brushes against your clit. you whine his name before he finally puts his lips on you, sucking harshly on your clit.

"f-fuck, k!"

"you taste so sweet, beloved. i could spend the rest of my life between of your thighs."

his tongue teased your entrance, sliding in a few times before replacing them with his fingers again. you squeeze around his fingers as you adjust to him. once you were adjusted, his lips attached to your clit while he added a third finger into you. you clutched the sheets as a loud moan escaped you. his hand held your hips down while he feasted on you like it was his last meal.

you felt your stomach twist as your second orgasm approached you. he mumbled something that you couldn't make out. you couldn't pay attention due to your second release washing over you. k continued to pleasure you through your orgasm, but he didn't stop once you had come down. you let out a whine before trying to pull away, but his hand tightened around your thigh, holding you in place.

"my sweet beloved." he hummed as he continued to move his fingers inside of you. "you can handle one more before i fill you with my cock, can't you?"

another whine came from your lips when he curled his fingers. "fuck, yes k."

"good girl." he praises before bringing you to your third orgasm.

you didn't think you could handle another one, but when you caught the outline of his hardened length, you could help but pull him closer to you when he finally lifted himself away from your heat. his lips crashed against your when he settled in between your legs. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

you moved your hand from around his neck, trailing down his stomach before unbuttoning his pants. he groaned into the kiss when your hand slipped past his clothes, gripping his hard length in your hand before squeezing. his hips moved against your hand when you started stroking him.

"my beloved." k mumbled, reluctantly pulling away from your lips. he grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. "i'm not going make it inside of you if you keep that up."

you removed you hand from his pants as k pulls you into to another kiss before unhooking your legs from his waist. he moved off of you before standing up. you watched him intently as he removed his bottoms, leaving him bare in front of you. your eyes widened as you eyed his length. somehow you knew his dick would be a pretty as the rest of him.

"beloved, i'm going to ruin you if you keep staring at me like that." you look up to meet his eyes that were so dilated, you could barely see any color. you raise your eyebrows with a smirk before motioning to him.

"you expect to have a body like that, and me not stare?"

you blink, and he's right back on top of you, kissing you like there's no tomorrow. his hands grip your thighs, squeezing them before wrapping them around his waist like before. as he does that, his length brushes against your heat making you shudder.

"are you ready?" he asks you, lining himself up with you when you nod. "i'll go slow, but you need to tell me if i hurt you, okay?"

you nod. "i will."

once he got your confirmation, he started to slowly press into you. you moan as you feel him stretch you. you could tell he was being cautious, taking his time making sure you were comfortable even though he was struggling to do so. when his hips were flush against yours, he laid his forehead on yours, giving you time to adjust to him.

it took you longer than you thought to adjust to him since he was so large. you tried to apologize, but k cut you off mid sentence with a kiss. he then proceeded to kiss all over your face, telling you sweet thoughts as he went.

after a few minutes, you nodded your head to him, telling him he could move. he slowly pulled almost all the way out of you before pushing back in. when you tapped his shoulder whispering out more, he looked down at you in confirmation.

"are you sure?"

"yes. please, k." you answer him. he presses a kiss to your forehead before speeding up his pace and being rewarded with a moan from you.

"you feel so good, my beloved." you squeeze around him at his words. he groans while head falls into your neck. "i'm not going to last long if you keep doing that."

your nails rake down his back at a particular harsh thrust. you could tell he close, as were you. his hand moves your legs up higher on his waist, allowing him to hit and even deeper spot. you throw your head back in pleasure before k's lips find yours. his forehead rests on yours when he pulls back. you could tell he wanted something, but wouldn't say. it didn't take you but a second to realize when he glanced at your neck what he wanted.

you grip the back of his neck, kissing him before nodding your head. "bite me."

"are you sure?" he asks you. you feel your stomach twist, signaling your orgasm was close. you nodded your head.

"k, bite me."

he moved forward, kissing your mark before his fangs teased the area. you let out a pleading moan, and that was all k needed to sink his fangs into your neck. the pleasure from his bite was all you needed to bring you over the edge. a few seconds after you and a few harsh thrusts from k, he followed after you, filling you with a groan.

his fangs left your neck, kissing the area before pulling away. his hands gripped your face as his lips find yours. even though you're on the brink of exhaustion, you find yourself kissing him back.

"did i tire you out, my beloved?" k asked, pulling away with a smirk. you rolled your eyes, but ultimately agreed with him.

"i don't think i've ever came so much." you hiss when he pulls out of you. his arms wrap around your back as he sits up, pulling you up with him. "what are you doing?"

"shower." he answered, standing up with you wrapped around him like a koala.

"i'm too tired, k."

he sit you on the counter before turning the shower on. "don't worry about a thing, my beloved. let me take care of you."

and take care of you he did. he washed your hair and body- being very careful not to hurt you before he bathed himself. once you two were done, he carried you back over to the counter before drying your hair and dressing you. he even took off whatever makeup you had left on your face.

as he was taking off your makeup, you came to a realization. no matter how little time you knew him, you never wanted to be apart from him. that thought scared you immensely. but when he looked at you with a smile, all of those fears went away. you weren't going to say anything to him yet, not sure if he felt the same, but you knew without a doubt that you were in love with him.

once you were nice and clean, he carried you back to bed, placing you under the blankets before putting on his boxers. he turned off the lights before sliding into bed with you. you instantly went to him, throwing your leg over his waist and resting your head on his chest. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him.

you place a kiss on his chest. "thank you."

"you don't need to thank me for anything, beloved. if anything, i should thank you."

"who knew you were so sweet?" you smile, jumping with he softly pinches your side.

"you're not going to say that in a few hours when we go for round 2." you pull your head away from his chest, looking up at him with raised brows.

"really?" he smiled at you, moving forward and kissing your temple.

"like i said earlier beloved. i'm never going to get tired of you."

#kpop #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #&team x reader #k &team #&team k #&team smut #&team #&team scenarios #&team hard thoughts #&team hard hours

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sungchanphile · 7 months ago

Text

we'll always have summer ☀︎ lee juyeon

₊ ⊹☼ WORD COUNT: 18.0k ₊ ⊹☼ PAIRING: the boyz' lee juyeon x female reader ₊ ⊹☼ TAGS & WARNINGS: summer vacation!au, teeth-rotting fluff, no angst whatsoever nada, juyo having a crush, reader is a bit shy at first, no plot just y/nyeon hanging out and pining for each other, dialogue heavy, a scene making out and some kisses here and there, canadaz instigating together

₊ ⊹☼ SYNOPSIS: during your post-college-graduation crisis, you meet lee juyeon during a 3 week lake house vacation with your mutual friends. serendipity watches over you as you get entangled into a whirlwind summer romance.

₊ ⊹☼ NOTES: hyung line are all the same age in this as each other, 98 line as each other and maknae line as each other! idk how i wrote 18k words of juyeon pathetically crushing on y/n but here it is! also the female ocs in this fic have no relation to any idol irl or at least was not written with anyone in mind :-) this also feels like the wrong time to post a tbz fic but i'm desperate to get this out and i'm hoping and praying that the boyz can resolve their negotiations with ist and find a good home in their new label <3

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Whoever said that university was supposed to be the best 4 years of your life didn't think about the implications of that phrase on deeply lost and terrified new grads. Sure, it was intended as an encouragement to try and enjoy your college years while you were in them, but now you're on the other side and all you can feel is... now what?

In hindsight, there was a reason that seniors spent practically the whole year panicking about what came next and applying to every internship, grad role and job listing that popped up, no matter how relevant. You too had participated to some degree but to no avail as you stand here with no employment or future education plans in mind.

Okay, so maybe going on a 3 week holiday as soon as you come out of graduation wasn't the best idea you've ever had, but technically, it wasn't even your idea. In fact, you had even rejected Kevin's invitation multiple times citing your need to job hunt in the city immediately, but he kept pestering and pestering and pestering that you eventually had to give in. The universe will reward you for at least trying to resist, right?

There were really many reasons to not go on this trip. The main one being that Kevin was the only person out of about 15 people you knew that were coming on this trip. You had met a few of his friends fleetingly before, but never long enough or often enough to form a proper friendship or relationship with them as you did with your junior year project partner turned friend. Another reason was that you were so painfully introverted and shy that meeting all these new people all at once with nowhere to run to or hide seemed like the perfect recipe for disaster. What were you going to do if it all went wrong?

Still, Kevin had managed to address all your worries and reassured you that his friends were very welcoming and aware not to overwhelm you too much.

"Remember Y/N, we're here to relax, have a good time and forget the worries of the real world," Kevin lectured you as the two of you entered the lake house together. He had been the one to organise this trip as he found the cabin slash mansion and then roped all of his friends into joining.

Chanhee and Changmin had slept the entire ride, so Kevin allocated them the job of hauling everything from the car into the house. The people pleaser in you was desperate to help, but Kevin maintained that staying up and entertaining him on the long drive up was enough and that the two boys deserved it for being so called lazy.

"There's 5 bedrooms, all with two double beds," Kevin recalled as he scoured the house, "We take the biggest room with the en-suite."

"We can sleep 20 people? Why didn't you invite more?" you plopped your bags onto the large sectional couch.

Kevin just shrugged and stepped away to investigate the documents on a table, "So we could have a bit more space. Plus, we didn't want to invite anyone else."

"Aw i'm honoured to have made the cut, Kev," you teased by nudging him on the shoulder.

He shot you an unimpressed glare, "Clearly not considering that you literally refused to come until two weeks ago."

"I'm here, aren't I?" you countered, running to the front door to hold it open as you saw the other two boys approaching with the miscellaneous things your group was assigned to pack. It mostly involved some activities like a karaoke machine, some boards and floaties for swimming and other things to keep you entertained.

Another group set to arrive later was assigned the food supplies, while the girls that were coming on the trip were in charge of drinks.

"How far away are the others?" Chanhee smiled at you appreciatively as you make their life a little easier. He set two bags down on the floor. Changmin hobbles behind him with overflowing arms, clearly not wanting to make more trips than necessary.

Kevin pulled out his phone and hummed as he checked on the drivers' locations, "Jacob's car is like only a few minutes behind. Sangyeon's car is like an hour behind and the girls won't be here for a couple of hours since Minseo had to do a morning shift at work so they left a bit late."

"Who's in Jacob's car?" you asked curiously, wondering who you were going to meet first. You'd met Jacob a few times before when you were a junior and he was always very nice to you despite not having spent an extended period of time together. However, you hadn't seen him in almost a year! Obviously you had been acquainted with Chanhee and Changmin now, but you'd only met them once before they climbed into Kevin's car for the long journey that they dozed through.

"I think Hak, Eric and Juyeon are with Jacob and Sunwoo, Younghoon and Hyunjae are with Sangyeon," Changmin listed off quickly, "Prepare yourself to meet Eric, seriously."

"Hopefully he's sleepy from the drive," Chanhee rolled his eyes playfully but fondly at the thought of their youngest friend.

While this was a graduation trip for the boys in your car and a few of the others, Kevin had still invited their friends of different ages. It was a nice way to escape the reality of adult life for those who had graduated the year before you and just a fun trip for the incoming seniors below you.

You've heard from Kevin that his friends had a vast range of personalities, which you expected considering there were 11 of them. The concept of opposites attract definitely applied to friendships too, which was how Kevin's bubbly and social self found you, a raging introvert.

By the time that Jacob's car roared into the pebble driveway, you had already unpacked your clothes in the closet that you were sharing with Jacob and Kevin- the only ones you knew and felt comfortable with. Kevin had decided to just throw his duffle onto the foot of the bed and will probably just dig out some outfits each day from the floor.

You heard commotion begin to rumble downstairs through your ajar door and fought an internal conflict whether to go down and make yourself known or have Kevin come and get you. By the end of it, they had made that decision for you when you hear multiple footsteps stomp up the creaky stairs.

"Y/N, how are you? It's good to see you again!" Jacob flashed you his signature sweet smile as he tapped on the door and opened it wider, "Can we come in?"

"Sure, it's your room too! It's also good to see you, Jacob," you replied, getting up from the edge of the bed where you were rummaging through your backpack.

"You must be the famous Y/N," someone with a boyish smile peeked from behind Jacob, "I'm Eric! Nice to finally meet you."

"Ah, I've heard lots about you!" you gave him a small but enthusiastic wave.

"And knowing Kevin, it was probably not nice things," Eric scoffed as he shot a glare over his shoulder in the direction of the staircase behind him. That was when both he and you noticed a tall boy lingering behind him.

Eric wrapped an arm around his shoulders and brought him forward, "And this is Juyeon-hyung."

Through his sleepy, lid-heavy eyes, Juyeon gave you a soft smile, "Hi, it's nice to meet you."

"Juyeon," you let the word ruminate in your mouth as to why his name sounded familiar until it comes to you, "Ah, you're one of the others who graduated, right?"

He nodded, letting his face relax into a small smile, "Yeah."

"Congratulations to you," you tell him.

"You too, Y/N," there's a softness to Juyeon's voice- a kind of kindness and sincerity that comes naturally. Whereas Eric's voice was immediately enthusiastic and upbeat, Juyeon was calmer and more demure.

Eric disappeared behind Juyeon and Jacob was unzipping his bag behind you on the bed he was sharing with Kevin. You point awkwardly to the bag that Juyeon was clutching in his hands, "Which room are you staying in?"

As if he just remembered he was carrying it, Juyeon's eyes snapped to his hold before he let out a soft 'ah!', "I'm rooming with Chanhee and Changmin. Do you know which room that is?"

If you recalled correctly, you did, "I think it's that one," you point to the door immediately behind him, just opposite of your room.

Juyeon gives you an appreciative nod and pushes the handle of his room open with his elbow, "Thanks Y/N. See you later."

"Bye Juyeon."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Over the rest of the first day, you settled yourself on the living room couch with Kevin playing a variety of card games and planning what you wanted to do on the trip while doing so. The others dipped in and out- Jacob joining when he finished unpacking and Changmin once he got tired of Chanhee beating him at table tennis outside.

Eric was stretched out on one of the other couches, soft snores coming out of his mouth after the drive exhausted him (and also the other passengers who he was 'entertaining'). You don't know where Juyeon disappeared to, but it was probably to replace Changmin as Chanhee's opponent.

The game of dobble was getting heated with Jacob's rare frustrated side coming out, as was teased by the other players. So far, Changmin had won the most games, but that was probably because he was the most willing to scream and snatch the card away. You, on the other hand, had miserably lost every single round.

But at least you were able to plan your meals over the game of snakes and ladders you played earlier.

Once Sangyeon's car arrived and you acquainted yourself with him, Younghoon and Sunwoo, you excused yourself from the game under the guise of being a very bad loser, which you were.

You hadn't checked out the back garden and it's various facilities yet, so you were intrigued considering that was one of the main reasons that Kevin booked this place.

"Hi Y/N, do you wanna play?" Chanhee waved to you as soon as he spotted you in between serves. Juyeon followed suit.

"Nah, I'll watch for now- I just wanted to check out the yard!" you gestured to the area.

You immediately noticed the large blue swimming pool that dominated most of the garden. There were lounge chairs and umbrellas strewn around it and a little enclosure with pool floats provided. There was a fire pit with outdoor chairs in the back corner and then a stretch of grass that was perfect for net games like foot volleyball or badminton. Chanhee and Juyeon were occupying the ping pong table, but you were also standing next to a pool table in the covered patio.

The lake you were staying at was located a short walk down some steps from the front of the house, so you could only see some hills and other houses from the back. It was definitely a nice atmosphere combined with the warm weather you were having and not a bad place to spend 3 weeks procrastinating your life.

You took a seat on the cushioned furniture under the patio, covering your eyes from the sun to watch the boys play. It seemed that Juyeon was overall better than Chanhee, but Chanhee could catch him out with fast balls and spinning balls.

It was entertaining to watch them for a while, your eyes moving either side to follow the ball. They were getting competitive with each other, bringing out their vicious sides, which was amusing to watch. Juyeon seemed like a collected person when you first met him, but like everyone else, he had a different side to him in situations so tense.

"I wanna play," you heard a voice ring behind you, "Let's play pairs?"

Sunwoo appeared from the woodwork and approached the table. Chanhee and Juyeon paused their game, claiming Juyeon as the winner before agreeing to the game.

"Y/N, play with us? Who do you wanna pair up with?"

"I'm not any good at ping pong, so whoever is unfortunate enough to have me then," you got up from your comfy position and stretched out.

"Hm, Sunwoo's not bad so Sunwoo can go with me and you can go with Juyeon since he won," Chanhee reasoned, bringing up the extra paddles from the ground.

You migrated to Juyeon's side, giving him a sheepish look, "I'm sorry, but we're going to lose."

Juyeon chuckled and shook his head, "You have to believe in yourself, Y/N. Here, watch me serve and then you can serve the first ball."

He positioned himself with his body open to you so you could see what he was doing. Juyeon carefully explained what he was going to do and demonstrated the serve. Sunwoo threw the ball back and it rolled over to you.

"You can do it," Juyeon encouraged as you readied your stance.

Taking a deep breath and not wanting to disappoint your partner, you mimicked his movements and jumped in elation when it went exactly where it should have gone. Juyeon cheered beside you, which quickly faded as Chanhee returned the ball to your side, only for it to bounce twice and then land at your feet.

Juyeon was giggling as you looked at him apologetically, "The serve was good, but now we have to work on your return."

"How about I serve and then you just return all of the balls while I stand behind you?" you countered teasingly, "This isn't much of a competition for them."

"Y/N, by the end of this trip, you're going to be a ping pong goddess," Juyeon said firmly, holding up the ball to you again.

Over the next while, you started improving with your skills with tips that the other boys showed you. Juyeon did end up having to carry your team, but you had some good moments too. You didn't expect to be so open to play with the guys, but if Kevin's friends were anything like Kevin, you should have known you would have got along great.

Eventually, some more of the boys decided to come out and play while they started preparing lunch inside with the ingredients they had brought, so you retreated back inside to join Kevin.

"Your friends are nice," you told him sincerely at the kitchen island as you watched Younghoon and Changmin open up endless packets of ramen.

"I told you they were," Kevin agreed.

You had known Kevin for a year and a half, first meeting him at the start of the second semester of junior year. While he had tried to get you to meet his friends multiple times, it just never worked out properly with your schedules all the way up to college graduation. You did want to meet them properly instead of fleeting introductions and goodbyes in the hallways or around campus, but it wasn't your fault that your timetable was absolutely rammed and you were too anti-social to attend any evening events.

However, he had told you enough stories about his friends that it really felt like you did actually know them. That's why meeting them for the first time was weird- you knew lots of things about each of them.

"I don't think me and Chanhee would have ever worked out though," you frowned as you remembered Kevin trying to get you to go on a blind date with him when you first met and got comfortable with each other.

"I see that now," Kevin huffed at his failed matchmaking, "You're both divas- hey!"

You held back a laugh as Kevin's stumbled on his stool from you pushing him, "Don't spread false rumours about me around your friends! They could get the wrong idea!"

"Honey, it's a fact," Kevin snorted, "Once they get to know you better, they'll see what I mean."

Your personality slowly but surely crept out the longer you knew someone, but you weren't sure that 3 weeks was enough time. Then again, it was 3 weeks of constantly seeing them and being forced to spend time with each other, all while doing activities that might just end up testing your will.

"How about Changmin, though?" Kevin tried to whisper lowly.

Said boy whipped his head around and gave Kevin a pointed look, "I'm right here, you know?"

"So? Anybody who I set up with Y/N would be lucky to have her," Kevin jeered to his friend.

From behind you, you hear a deep voice, "Who's being set up with Y/N?"

Juyeon takes the stool beside you, an orange manifesting in his hands that he began to peel. A small smirk flashed on Kevin's face that you did not miss, but Kevin leaned forward and placed his chin and his hand, "Why, are you interested?"

You shoved Kevin again, "You are so annoying. I'm sorry about him Juyeon."

"I'm used to it," Juyeon shrugged casually as he offered up a slice yo you, "Orange?"

You quickly refused and thanked him and he carried on eating the fruit beside you. He must have got bored of the game or wanted to supervise the lunch. You vaguely remember Kevin telling you that Juyeon was one of the better cooks in the group.

After a while of silently supervising the ramen station, the doorbell sounded through the house. Kevin raced to open the door and welcome the girls in.

You had never met them before as they were some of Chanhee and Changmin's friends, but Kevin reassured you that they were very nice girls that you probably would get along with. It's not even that you didn't have many friends of your own- Kevin was just the first to ask you to come on a trip and all of your friends were diving straight into their big-girl jobs.

"I'm guessing you're Y/N? I'm Minseo," a girl with short, cropped hair approached you cheerfully, "Stick with us whenever you get tired of these boys. They get old pretty quick."

Younghoon scoffed as he walked past with the big pot of ramen in his gloved hands to bring to the table, "You three are way more chaotic than us."

"Don't believe him," another one of the girls came over with a backpack that was making a clinking sound, "I'm Suyeon! And I have some of the drinks and Jiwon has the rest."

Suyeon has copper-red hair and piercing eyes, while Jiwon has mousy brown hair and tattoos on her exposed arms. They definitely have dancer builds, so you imagine that they first met Changmin through dance.

The boys take their turns saying their greetings to the girls and Juyeon calls in everybody outside as lunch was ready. Other than the ramen, Younghoon and Changmin had managed to whip up some side dishes from what they brought, so it wasn't a totally helpless lunch.

The table was just a large slab of polished wood on some legs with long benches around each side. It was a little bit of a squeeze to get all 15 of you around the table, but it wasn't totally horrible once everyone settled and stopped squirming.

You had Kevin to your right and Jacob to your left with Eric directly in front of you. The table was too broad, however, to be able to make meaningful conversations with those in front of you without shouting.

"Is there any activities you want to do, Y/N?" Jacob asked you.

You tried to recall the array of activities you saw outside when you pulled up to the house, "I want to row a boat out on the lake. I'm kind of scared of stuff like that. What about you?"

Jacob shrugged, "Nothing particular. I just want to relax after a full year working."

"How has that been anyway?"

He sighed defeatedly, "It's nice making money, but I definitely miss college. Don't let me scare you though."

"I'm terrified enough as it is, considering I don't have a job lined up," you tried to make it sound like it wasn't weighing you down, but Jacob seny you a sympathetic half-smile.

"Loads of people are in the same boat, Y/N. Don't worry about it, honestly. There's always something waiting for you," Jacob advised you softly, "Promise you'll try to enjoy this vacation before worrying about real life?"

"You sound like Kevin, Jacob," you stifled a chuckle, "I will try, I promise.

Your conversation with Jacob is cut short by Eric yelling at the elder to pass the water with his mouth full, followed by him being scolded by the others.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You don't even know what time it is when you wake up the next morning. It's well into summer so the sky is already bright and gives you no indication by the colour and you find that your phone is dead when you tried to check. Remembering that you brought your charger down after dinner while you all watched a movie in the lounge, you groaned at the thought of having to get up so early.

Soft snores were still escaping from Jacob and Kevin's bed, so you tiptoed out of the room, all while trying to brush through your tangled hair with your fingers. The house was so quiet that you definitely did not expect to see someone's back leaning over the kitchen counter while they sat on a stool.

At your footsteps, the mystery figure turned around with a surprised sound.

"Oh, Y/N. Good morning," Juyeon's voice was deep and still raspy this early, "What are you doing up?"

He was wiping his eyes with his fists bawled up and you resisted the urge to 'awh' at him as you fetched your charger from nearby, "I left this here last night and my phone died. I don't know what time it is, but why are you up so early?"

Juyeon shrugged, "I sometimes wake up early and I couldn't go back to sleep. I was going to make a coffee if you want one too?"

In your head, you weighed up the pros and cons of an early morning beverage. Something in you was screaming to go back into your bed and doze off the rest of the morning- something that will be robbed from you when you reach the real world- but at the same time, Juyeon was looking at you with his sleepy, cat-like eyes and red cheeks.

"Sure," you slid onto the stool beside his as he hopped off and made his way around to the kitchen side. There was only the whistling of the kettle for a while as Juyeon collated all the ingredients he needed and found the mugs in the cupboard. He only broke the silence to ask you if you took milk and sugar in your coffee.

You had zoned out so much that you didn't snap back into reality until he was sliding your coffee over to you and placing a plate full of French pastries between you as he took a seat. Gratefully, you pinched the croissant to curve your morning hunger.

"How did you find yesterday?" Juyeon began as he sipped on his drink.

"It was nice meeting everyone. I think I knew everyone's names anyway from Kevin talking about you all before and from his posts," you told him, "I'm still feeling shy, but it will just take time for me to get comfortable."

"I was the same when I first met everyone," Juyeon nodded, "We all came at different times since we're different ages, but I also get shy meeting new people, so I know how you feel. I'm glad that Kevin managed to convince you to come, though."

Your surprised look doesn't faze him, "Ah, really?"

Juyeon looked slightly more awake after a few sips of coffee as he smiles gently at you, "It's always nice to make a friend."

"Yeah," you agreed. Juyeon had a certain way of speaking that was just so comforting and he was quickly becoming one of Kevin's friends that you could see yourself being close to.

"Are you staying in the city after this?" he moved on casually.

Ah, the famous question. Your grimace told him everything he needed to know as you scrunched up your face, "I would like to, but that's T-B-D. It's gonna be stressful looking for a job after I get back from the trip- that's why I didn't want to come in the first place. But whatever. What about you?"

"I'm gonna be a dance teacher at a local studio," Juyeon told you, pride sparkling through the statement, "I'm excited about it, but my dream is to have my own studio one day, have a crew and work with some famous people."

You suddenly remembered something Kevin had told you once, "Ah, you majored in dance with Changmin, right?"

Juyeon nodded.

"Kevin took me to one of your showcases once this year, but I had to run out before I could meet you guys after," you recalled fondly, "You had a duet with Changmin and I remember being very, very impressed. I can't dance, so..."

He looks at you in surprise as you remembered it, "Oh, thank you for coming! And I really appreciate that. I'm going to miss those showcases, actually. They were always stressful leading up to them, but when I get to perform, it's the best feeling ever."

The lilt in his voice told you just how passionate he was when it came to dance. You wished that you had something you treasured dearly too, but you tried to remember Jacob's words from dinner- something will always be waiting for you.

"I'm gonna have to see you guys dance again at some point," you smiled, "I know Kevin said a lot of you guys do."

"What has Kevin told you about me?" Juyeon placed his chin on his palm, body leaning over towards you.

You paused for a minute, trying to recall all the facts you knew about Kevin's friend and trying to pick out the ones related to him, "He said you're the best cook in the group and that the world moves too fast for you. He said that you like nature too."

"Too? You do as well?" he asked curiously, "They say I'm slow, which they may be right."

"Yeah! I like taking walks and seeing the world," you affirmed, "I've never been to this part of the country, so I'm intrigued by the area. It looks so beautiful from what I saw on the drive up."

"We should definitely take walks together!" Juyeon suggested enthusiastically, "I don't know how many of the others will join, but it'll be fun."

Before you could agree with him despite how shy he was making you feel, Changmin's sleepy voice boomed out behind you, "Morning guys."

"Did we wake you up?" you asked him in concern.

Changmin shook his bed hair firmly, "Nope. Chanhee rolled over and started cuddling me."

"So you left him?" you teased.

"It got too warm," Changmin whined as he noticed your small breakfast spread, "Can I get a coffee too?"

"Hah, make it yourself," Juyeon huffed as he pointed out where the supplies were kept, "Did you know Y/N attended our showcase a few months ago? The one where we had the duet?"

Changmin laid out the items on the other side of the island and thought for a second before a eureka moment came to him, "Was that the one you had to leave early cause you had a date?"

You groaned at the thought, flopping your head in your hands on the table, "Oh, don't remind me! I can't believe Kevin told you."

Juyeon looked between the two of you, confusion splattered on his face, "Why, what happened?"

You shivered in your seat, "He was a dickhead. It was a blind date with one of my friends' boyfriend's frat brothers and it was so bad I had to actually tell him I wanted to leave."

"Oh, that bad?" Juyeon grimaced.

"He shamed me for ordering a proper meal, insinuated many, many times how he wanted to come over to my place after, picked up a call from one of his friends in the middle of it and then made me pay the whole bill when I said I wanted to leave and offered to split," you recounted, slightly more amused looking back on it now.

"That's really horrible, Y/N," Changmin offered as he stirred his drink.

"I'm used to bad dates now," you sighed in defeat, "I've never had any luck."

Juyeon made a noise of recognition from your side, "Have you gone on a lot of dates?"

"Mhm, my friends all found their partners pretty early on in college. I guess they just wanted me to have the same magical experience as them, so they'd always set me up on dates," you recalled your dating life through the past 4 years, "Actually, I went on a date with Jacob accidentally without knowing he was Kevin's friend before he graduated."

Changmin's eyes widened as he laughed in realisation and slapped the countertop, "I forgot that happened! That's so funny."

Juyeon pouted beside you, "Am I the only one that's never heard of any of this?"

"Maybe it's cause you holed yourself up the last two years in the practice room," Changmin replied sassily.

"Says you!" Juyeon turned to you, "How did your date with Cobie-hyung go?"

"I thought he was really sweet, but we decided not to go on a second date because he was graduating soon," you answered honestly, "He only did it as a favour to my friend when they worked on a project together."

"Oh, so you liked him?" Juyeon pressed on.

Your face reddened as you vehemently shook your head, "It's not like that! We just went on one date, that's all."

"Stop teasing poor Y/N," Changmin frowned from the other side, "It's like coming up to 8 now, so we should start making a proper breakfast for everyone."

You hadn't exactly established how you were going to do the cooking rota, but since you three were already down there, it wasn't a bad idea to get started. Juyeon agreed, hopping off the stool and rummaging the fridge for what they brought.

A grocery trip was definitely due with everyone, but for now, Juyeon's car had lugged along some ingredients from their college apartments that could be utilised.

"Can I be of any help?" you asked into the air as you watched Changmin check what was in each cupboard.

"Are you good at cooking, Y/N?" Juyeon quirked an eyebrow at you. You gave him an unsure look, to which he laughed and handed you a carton of eggs, "I guess I have a lot to teach you during this vacation, Y/N-ah."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You've always preferred the sunset to the sunrise. Maybe it's because you've seen far more sunsets in your lifetime, due to your previous displeasure of waking up early. Over the last few months with finals, though, you've gotten used to being up at the time the sun peaked through the horizon, even if it was because you hadn't slept yet.

The moment that Minseo noticed the first shades of pinks in the sky, she dragged the whole group out to the waterfront and you all were sprawled out on the ground, watching as the sun dipped down. There hasn't been a good sunset in the four days that you've been here, so you were excited for the first one with the group.

You were even almost confident enough to call them friends as you spent the past four days getting to know them through lunches and dinners, boardgames and pingpong and cooking and cleaning. They were all great people with impeccable sense of humour- you were glad to have come to the trip.

You perched Hyunjae's digital camera on your tucked knees as you examined the way the sky was transforming. Beside you, Kevin was sketching in his notebook.

It was getting late, nearing 8, and you had spent the whole day in the pool with everyone playing different games and lounging around. You all decided as a group that you would take the first week easy- no plans, just relaxing. After that was when you would jump into activities outside of the lake house. You were on the winning team of pool volleyball today, but had lost every chicken fight on top of Kevin's shoulders.

After dinner, you were all drying up when Minseo called everyone out. The air was still warm, but less aggressive than the sun beating down on your skin earlier in the day. There was a mild breeze that cut through the heat, making it more bearable to be outside.

Chanhee was sat on your other side, humming a song as he scrolled on his phone, meanwhile in front of you on the small hill, Jiwon and Suyeon were playing uno with Younghoon and Juyeon. You snapped a picture of them with the camera entrusted to you, which they didn't even notice.

"Jiwon has a crush on Younghoon," Chanhee whispered in your ear. You jumped in your spot, clutching the camera tight to your chest.

"Jesus, Chanhee. You scared me!" you scolded the smirking boy.

"Oops," he patted your head in apology, "Isn't it obvious though?"

You turned your head back to the group to examine. Now that you knew that, you could put meaning to the way that Jiwon was leaning her body towards Younghoon's and the way she clung onto every word he said and everything he did.

"Does Younghoon know?" you hummed.

"I think so, or he's pretending to be dense," Chanhee murmured, "I think he was waiting for Jiwon to graduate, so maybe something will happen on the trip. They've been friends since high school, but the girls are on the dance team with us."

"That's cute," you noted, "What about the other girls?"

"Minseo and Sangyeon dated for a few months, but nothing ever came of it and they stayed as friends," Chanhee recalled in a dropped voice, leaning his lips up to your ear due to Sangyeon's proximity, "But they don't like it when we make jokes about it. Suyeon's never showed interest in anyone but Eric used to have a crush on her. Not anymore, though. In my opinion, proximity can make people think they feel things."

"What, like being around someone can trick you into liking them? Isn't that how crushes and relationships work?" you turned your body to face Chanhee.

He cocked his head in thought, "Maybe, but sometimes people develop crushes for the sake of having crushes instead of actually liking someone. Like some people feel compelled to date someone or like someone because everyone else expects them to because they're close."

"That's..." you trailed off, trying to find the right word to say, "Interesting."

Chanhee lets out a small giggle and turns back to his phone, "It's just something I've thought about after seeing so much friendship group incest."

When you swivel your head back to the lake and the sky beyond it, you find Juyeon staring at you with a perplexed look. When he noticed that you were looking back, he raised his arm in a small wave. You return one back to him, a little confused why he was looking. Suyeon nudged his arm, directing his attention back to the game in front of him.

"Have you ever thought about dating Kevin?" Chanhee asked after a moment of silence.

Kevin beside you perked up at the sound of his name, the scratching of his pencil ceasing. You met his eye and chuckled, "I think we always knew that we'd be better off as friends."

"She's not my type," Kevin dropped in as a dig. You nudged him when you made sure his pencil wasn't touching the paper.

"What's your type, Y/N?" Chanhee pressed on, "If you don't mind me asking."

You thought about his question carefully, trying to pick out what was actually important to you instead of what you would list off to your friends when they would find blind date suitors.

"I just want someone I can be comfortable with and not have to put on an act," you told him simply, "It'd be nice if they'd have some of the same interests as me, but I want someone I can find comfort in. Someone not too energetic and just someone who can treat a girl right. It's not a big ask."

"What, that's it?"

You nodded sheepishly, "To be honest, I just want to find someone naturally- to have them come to me. I've appreciated being set up on dates, but I don't want to look too hard anymore."

"What about giving Jacob another shot?" Kevin quizzed suddenly.

You release a small laugh, "I think that ship has sailed, Kev."

Jacob was a few metres away, strumming on his guitar surrounded by the rest of your friends. There was something so lovely about Jacob, but past that, you don't think you could see a relationship with him.

"Hmm, Hyunjae? He's very nice," Chanhee offered up, a teasing tone in his voice.

You rolled your eyes at your companions, "Did you two not hear anything I said? I want it to happen naturally."

You suddenly get distracted by someone ooh'ing and ahh'ing loudly. When you look up, you're instantly met by the most vibrant sky you've seen in a long time. The sky is painted in shades of cotton candy pink and vivid oranges. It was one of those bright, golden sunsets, devoid of any moody colours.

Snapping a few pictures on the camera of your friends and their silhouettes against the sky, you stood up for a better view. Through the lens, you find Jiwon and Younghoon standing together, shoulder to shoulder as they peered up. You were so preoccupied by their figures that you missed Juyeon standing up, brushing himself off and walking over to you.

"Y/N, can I have the camera?" Juyeon appeared beside you, making you jump slightly.

"Oh yeah, sure," you carefully placed the camera in his palm, not wanting to be reckless with something that wasn't yours.

Juyeon smiled appreciatively, taking one step back behind you and holding it up, "Okay, smile!"

Your eyes widened in surprise as you shook your head, "Don't get me in it! It won't turn out nice."

Trying to escape, you ducked to the side of him, but he caught onto your wrist and gently manoeuvred you back to your original place. Juyeon gave you a pointed look, "Trust me, okay? Just smile. Say cheese!"

Sensing that you wouldn't be able to get him to back down, you indulged his request and smiled softly at the camera. The digital device looked so tiny in his large hands compared to how they looked in yours that it was almost comical. He had to fumble a little to find the button, but when he clicked it finally, you broke your pose.

Juyeon looked down at the screen as you came closer to see for yourself. He turned it towards you with a triumphant smile on his handsome features, "See? So pretty."

He's probably talking about the sunset.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

On a morning you found yourself awake early again, you received a DM from one Lee Juyeon.

juyeon: i was about to go on a walk. care to join?

y/n: how did you know i was awake?

juyeon: i saw that you viewed my story i just uploaded :> will you come?

y/n: give me 10 minutes

When you tiptoed down the stairs at precisely 7:15AM, you found Juyeon squinting at you from the living room couch.

"Has anyone ever told you that you squint a lot?" you yawned out as you placed your shoes on the ground and slipped into them.

"I have terrible vision," Juyeon explained, "And before you ask, I don't have glasses because I cheated on my eye test."

You slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the laughs coming out, "How is that even possible?"

Juyeon rolled his eyes playfully, "Yeah, yeah. I know!"

He stood up from his place on the couch and followed you out of the front door. With one of the spare keys, he locked the door behind him and joined your side.

"Do you even know what I look like?" you teased him.

He made you stop on the gravel track, placing his hands on your shoulders. Teasingly, he squinted his eyes at you before relaxing onto the heel of his foot, "Of course I do. I would never forget a pretty face like yours."

Shocked at his flirty remarks, you pushed against his shoulder with your hand, "You're too much, Lee Juyeon."

His laugh is melodic as he tried to catch up with your fast pace, "You should learn how to take compliments, Y/N."

"Yeah, but you're teasing me," you humphed in response.

"Maybe, but it's still a factual compliment!" Juyeon argued. You were embarrassed to know that your whole face and ears were probably lit up like a tomato right now from his words.

Instead of replying, you chose to steer the conversation away, "Do you even know where we're going?"

Juyeon shook his head, "I just thought we could follow this trail around the lake. It's a nice morning."

The air was crispy- not too hot, not too cold. Everything was pretty still, other than the few people you could see having coffee on their front decks at the other houses surrounding the river. All you could hear, though, was the chirping of the birds in nests nestled in the trees and the soft crunching of rocks and grass under your shoes.

You hadn't managed to walk around the lake with the others yet in the week you've been there already. Time was moving so fast and there was still so much left to do. You were intrigued by the flora surrounding the lake, so you were trying to find free time to explore- thankfully, Juyeon beat you to it.

"Look at those flowers," you murmured after a few minutes of walking. There were tufts of pink flowers by the water edge that you crouched down to investigate further.

You heard the shutter of a camera faster than you could see Juyeon taking a picture of you on the ground.

"Hey!" you pouted up at him, swatting at his hand, "Let me see!"

"No can do," Juyeon replied smugly, "For my eyes only."

You brushed off your legs and stretched up next to him to continue walking, "That's not fair! I'm in the photo!"

"Later," Juyeon hummed innocently, walking forward a bit faster.

He continued leading you around the lake for a while, just chatting about trivial things you could see. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his cargo shorts, eyes shaded from the sun with his cap. At one point, you spotted a paddling of ducks near the edge, so you dragged Juyeon down to crouch beside you as you took pictures of them.

"Look how small that one is!" you cooed, pointing to what seemed like a baby duck that was following behind its mother closely.

"And look how cute they are when they tuck their necks in," Juyeon reciprocated as he found a flock further away that seemed to be sleeping or resting on the water.

"I used to have a stream behind my house when I was young, so I've always loved ducks," you waft a blade of long grass in the direction of the ducks, hoping they'd come to you.

"That seems like a nice childhood," you could hear the gentle smile in his gentle voice, "What was your childhood like?"

Your eyes followed the animals splashing about in the water, amused as two of them started chasing each other, "Nothing special. My parents had ordinary jobs and I have an older brother and a younger sister, so I was stuck in the middle. I grew up just outside of the city we went to college in, so I got to visit them often. My life's not very exciting. What about you?"

Juyeon humphed in disagreement, "I'm sure that's not true. There's always something special about the mundane. I grew up not far from the city too. I have a little brother who's 4 years younger and he's kind of in his teen-angsty phase right now, so I'm staying away physically. I call home pretty often, though."

"My sister just got out of hers," you laughed in solidarity. You finally decided to leave the ducks alone as they changed course away from you, "We get along much better now."

The sun was rising higher in the sky as you reached the halfway point around the lake. At this point, you had probably been out together for 45 minutes, but no one was noticing your absence yet.

"I can't believe they're not awake yet," you murmured as you checked your notifications.

"Nah, Changmin and Chanhee were awake and reading webtoons in bed," Juyeon informed you, "I told them we were going on a walk."

"You didn't invite them?"

"There's no getting those two out so early for no reason. That one morning with Changmin was a fluke," Juyeon uttered, "Besides, it's nice just us two, right?"

His words send the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy- he seems to have a way of doing that to you without even realising. You've spent a good amount of time with Juyeon on this trip, thinking that he was just taking you under his wing. Unfortunately for you, the man was drop dead gorgeous so it was hard not to feel giddy around him. Especially since he had such a way with words.

You have to remind yourself often that you were just friends. He treated everyone just like he treated you, right? Lee Juyeon was just a nice person.

"Right," you smile slightly, hiding your pink cheeks from him, but in turn getting blinded by the beams of light, "The sun's so bright."

Juyeon sighed beside you, "I should have told you to bring a hat."

You opened your mouth to reply, but you suddenly feel fabric encapsulating your head and the sun fade out behind the material of a cap- Juyeon's cap that he had taken off his own head and placed on yours.

"Oh, no, Juyeon. Keep the hat; the sun's gonna be in your eyes now," you moved to take it off, but he keeps his hand splayed on top of your head to prevent you from doing so.

"I'm taller than you, so the sun's hitting my face differently," he said to you sweetly.

You think he's lying, but if you've learned anything about Juyeon the past week, it's that he doesn't take no for an answer, "Thanks, Juyeon."

"You're welcome, Y/N-ie."

And if anybody noticed that you were wearing Juyeon's favourite cap when you arrived back to the house with a full spread of breakfast on the table, they certainly didn't say anything.

But when Jacob perched himself on the edge of your bed when you woke up from your post-breakfast nap, you knew you were in trouble from the mischievous yet apprehensive look on his face.

"What?" you groaned into the pillow that you smothered yourself with.

He waited for you to remove the pillow from your face before giving you a knowing look, "Kevin sent me."

"Why?"

"He's busy with Sunwoo and Hak," Jacob dismissed, "We want to know what's going on with you and Juyeon."

You sat up on the bed, looking at him incredulously, "What do you mean what's going on with me and Juyeon? Nothing."

Jacob frowned at what he thought was a blatant lie, "Don't think we haven't noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together recently. You two went out on a secret walk this morning alone."

"No one else was awake!" you protested, "None of you are morning people anyway!"

"You're not either, said Kevin," Jacob retorted.

"I'm trying to be," you huffed, "Besides, I've known the guy for one week. I'm not hiding a relationship from anyone."

"Yeah, but do you like him?" Jacob tacked on, "Kev wanted me to interrogate, so I am doing so."

"You're all so nosy," you murmured exasperatedly, "Juyeon is very nice; we're friends. Kevin would act this way no matter who I got close to."

"That might be true," Jacob nodded, "But I've never seen Juyeon act this way. He's normally pretty reserved when it comes to girls, but he's always approaching you first, looking out for you and considering you in things."

Your heart fluttered learning this new information about Juyeon, but you don't show it as you crossed your arms at Jacob with a disapproving glare, "Then take it up with Juyeon and not me."

"You know what'd be funny? To see if Juyeon will get jealous if anyone else gets close to you," Jacob tapped his chin in thought, "I've never, ever seen Juyeon jealous over a girl."

And as if the world was playing a hilarious, cruel prank on you, you heard Juyeon call your name as his feet padded up the stairs. He let out a sound of surprise when found your door ajar and Jacob sitting on your bed instead of his shared bed with Kevin.

Juyeon's eyes darted quickly between the two of you, with you still half-tucked under the sheets. His face kind-of hardened at the sight, but he quickly masked it with a half smile, "Hey, Y/N. I made you a smoothie to energise after our walk! Hi Cobie-hyung, what are you doing here?"

Jacob shot you a smug look, that you rolled your eyes subtly to, "I was just talking with Y/N. Is there something you need?"

Juyeon eyed him suspiciously, placing the cold glass on your side table. He didn't even reply when you thanked him, instead keeping an eye on Jacob, "Nah. Was it something private, though?"

"Hm, a bit," Jacob smirked. You were half a second away from shoving him off your bed for playing with Juyeon like this.

"Oh, okay. I'll go then. But we're about to go paddling in the lake so make sure you get ready soon," Juyeon backed down hesitantly and he turned his attention to you with a disarming smile, "You still have my hat, right, Y/N? Don't forget to bring that with you out. The sun's intense today."

As Juyeon left the room with the door wider than it was when he found it, Jacob rotated his body to you comically slow like he was in a movie.

"Shut it, Jacob."

He shook his head and released an angelic, teasing laugh, "That was next level, Y/N. I've never seen that man jealous let alone put on a territorial display!"

"Jacob!"

He put his hands up in surrender, "Fine, fine. I'm leaving too, but have a think, yeah? Don't want to let a guy as good as Juyo slip away."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

There were multiple boats scattered around the lake-side. There were 15 of you, so it wasn't an even split into pairs, but some of the boys were more confident to go by themselves.

As expected, Jiwon and Younghoon were pushed together to pair up and they strapped on life jackets first before clambering onto a rocky paddle boat at the end of a dock. Sangyeon and Hyunjae got their own boats, while Chanhee and Changmin shared one together. Minseo and Suyeon climbed on after, meanwhile Sunwoo and Haknyeon paired up. Eric, ever the brave, slid into a boat by himself, but let out a scream when it wobbled immediately. Thankfully, the activities staff was still holding the boat to keep it from tipping.

That left you, Jacob, Kevin and Juyeon to decide how to configure yourselves and you could see the Canadians' meddling from a mile away.

"Dibs on Jacob!" Kevin slung his arm around his friend and ran off towards the dock, leaving you speechless with Juyeon.

He gazed at you with shiny eyes, "Guess it's us again?"

"Ha. Us. Again," you enunciated dumbfounded at how obvious Kevin and Jacob were being.

Juyeon didn't seem to note any of this as he casually tugged on your arm in the direction of the boats, "Come on. Let's go."

You were the last ones to put on your life jackets and when you looked out at the lake, you could see your friends had already ventured far into the water. Juyeon stepped into the shaking boat first, taking a seat at the far edge.

When you looked nervous about climbing on, Juyeon held out his hand towards you, "Be careful," he said, nonchalantly.

You held your breath as you took his large hand. Your hands looked like a kid's in his large hold, but the way he wrapped his fingers around your own and made you feel secure had you less wary of getting onto the boat.

When you finally were able to sit across from him, you released the breath and the staff had unhooked you from the dock. Juyeon clapped for you in pride.

"I've always wanted to do this," you admitted to him, watching the water ripple around you.

He quirked an eyebrow at you and held the oars in your direction. He was the one currently manoeuvring the two of you further into the water, "Oh, do you wanna steer, then?"

You took the two pieces of wood from his grasp and grinned at him lopsidedly, "Can't promise we won't capsize though."

He smirked at you from across the boat, "I can swim. Can you?"

Your terrified look had him laughing in stitches as he teased you, "I guess I'll be the one saving you from your own disaster, then."

You kissed your teeth playfully at him as you tried to get into a rhythm with the oars. It was actually harder than you thought to move the boat in a smooth motion due to the drag of the water, but Juyeon just watched you in amusement as he leant back on the boat. You appreciated that he wasn't trying to take over the second he realised you weren't any good at this.

"Y/N-ie!" you heard a voice shout to your left. You looked over to find Eric's lone boat coming towards you at full steam. You watched as his face contorted into panic, realising that he didn't know how to slow down his boat.

Before it could crash into you, Juyeon reached over and held you down on the boat by your shoulders. When Eric made impact, you rocked in your seat, but less than Juyeon who swayed in his mid-standing crouching position. You stabilised him by holding onto his arms with yours.

Juyeon jumped back once he realised the crash was over, cheeks pink as he felt your touch on his bare skin. He settled back into his seat, looking unimpressed at his younger friend.

"Eric," he scowled at the sheepish boy, "Be careful. You could have tipped us over."

"Sorry," Eric pulled his lips into an apologetic pout, "I just wanted to say hi."

"It's okay, Eric. We're safe," you laughed off the incident as you brushed your hair back into place. You had passed over the oars to Juyeon at this point as you conversed with the guilty tanned boy, "Are you enjoying it?"

Eric nodded happily, "It's so much fun! I could do this all day."

Your heart melted at his enthusiasm. Eric was definitely giving you younger brother vibes through this trip with his puppy-like energy.

Juyeon swatted the oar in his direction, "Go bother someone else, Youngjae."

You glared at your boat-mate, "Juyo, that's not very nice."

"He almost killed us, Y/N," Juyeon exaggerated dramatically as he pushed the nose of Eric's boat away from yours.

Eric clicked his tongue and shook his head, laughing under his breath, "Alright, alright, I get it, hyung. Sorry for almost killing you."

You watched in disbelief as Eric paddled away at the speed of lightning, now looking like he was about to crash again into Minseo and Suyeon's boat. Turning back to your partner, you shook your head at him.

"What? That was dangerous," Juyeon whined at your glare, "Anyway, you called me Juyo."

Your hands flew up to your mouth as you burned red at the slip up, "Oh sorry! I never asked if I could call you that. I just heard Jacob call you it earlier."

Juyeon flashed you a boyish grin as he paddled your boat away from where everyone had seemed to congregate, pushing at each other's boats, "I don't mind. You can call me Juyo; I like it," then his face morphed with something unrecognisable for a second, "What were you and Jacob talking about?"

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you examined the boy in front of you. Where he was confident meeting your eyes earlier, he was now looking at everywhere other than you. It had you thinking whether there was some truth in Jacob's words, but you definitely didn't want to get your hopes up.

"Didn't he say it was a bit private?" you tried to say nonchalantly. Juyeon began to nod like he didn't care much at all, but you just laughed at him, "I'm kidding. We weren't talking about anything specific. I don't know why he said it was private."

"Oh, so you're not dating?"

You gasped at the accusation, "Me and Jacob? Why would you think that?"

Juyeon shrugged as he continued to row steadily, "You guys spend a lot of time together. He was teaching you to play the guitar last night."

Ah, Juyeon must have noticed Jacob instructing you on the patio after you expressed interest in learning to play. You had thought that he was inside making dinner with the girls, but he must have stepped out or seen you in the reflection of the glass door.

You smiled coyly, "We spend a lot of time together, but we're not dating are we?"

You don't know where this bravery came from- you weren't usually so teasing to anyone you spoke to. However, being with Juyeon showed you a new, more playful side to yourself that knew how to be a bit less uptight and closed off.

Juyeon pressed his lips into a thin line, "Right. We're not."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Halfway through the trip, Minseo had the idea to have a fancy dinner out one day in the nearest town. She wanted to get dressed up and get properly ready, since most of the activities you'd been doing thus far either involved the water or getting sweaty in the sun. Because this wasn't in your itinerary, you and the three girls took their car out to shop for new dresses, while the boys searched their luggage for something appropriate.

You deduced that they didn't have anything to wear either when you bumped into Sangyeon, Younghoon, Haknyeon and Eric midway through the shopping trip with bags and bags occupying their hands. They must have been sent out by the others to buy shirts and slacks. While buying new outfits could be considered excessive, the pieces were always recyclable and appropriate for the real world that the graduates were about to go into and the working adults were already partaking in. The dresses on the other hand, were not so transferrable, but you just hoped that you'd find an occasion to use it again in. You didn't feel too guilty considering the four of you only delved into thrift and second hand shops to find your outfits for the mid-scale restaurant that Minseo found.

You got ready in the girls' room, spending more time with them since being around the boys 24/7 got tiring sometimes. They had been very welcoming to you through the past week and a half despite being a tight-knit trio already. They were also all graduated and figuring out their lives, but welcomed you into their group regardless. You could definitely see yourself keeping in touch with them after the trip ended, even if you ended up in a random city far away.

There was always something nice about getting ready with a group of friends. Jiwon had curled the back of your head while she rambled on about how Younghoon was taking his sweet time making a move on her, meanwhile Suyeon was painting pink varnish on Minseo's right hand. The four of you took pictures after cleaning up the inevitably messy room and sat cross-legged on the bed as you sent them to each other.

"Juyeon's gonna die when he sees you," Suyeon smirked as she airdropped a set of photos she had taken from you.

"Why does everyone keep thinking me and Juyeon have something going on? We're just friends," you muttered, swiping through the images.

The room fell into silence and you looked up to three disbelieving faces. Minseo rolled her eyes at you, "Be serious, Y/N. Juyeon is smitten with you."

You pressed your lips together to contain a cheesing smile. Suyeon nodded in agreement, "Don't forget we're on the dance team so we know him quite well. We've never seen him with a girl like this."

"Maybe he just kept it separate from dance."

"Then he was not seeing anyone because he was dedicated to that shit 24/7," Jiwon told you, "Trust us. He likes you."

You looked on apprehensively, "Guys, we just met. It's been a week and a half."

Minseo flopped back on the bed in exasperation, "Have you never heard of love at first sight? I feel like it's pretty common that crushes develop quite quickly, especially if you're spending all day and night with someone."

"Think of Love Island," Jiwon offered, glaring at you when you stifled a laugh, "They're locked in a villa together 24/7 and by day 3 they're married with kids making out by the pool. You're basically doing better than them!"

You giggle at her analogy, appreciating the girls trying to justify the growing affection you've developed for the sleepy-eyes boy the past few days, "Maybe, but even still, I'm not the type to make the first move at all. I still want to give it time."

Suyeon nodded in understanding, "That's fair. Don't worry though, you'll know your answer by how he reacts to you tonight. You're a literal smoke show, babe."

You side-hug her in thanks and return the compliment. Minseo pushed herself off the bed as she checked the phone, "The guys have already left. We should get going too."

Downstairs, the four of you strapped on your sandals and did a sweep of the house to make sure everyone had left and you didn't accidentally leave anyone behind. Jiwoo recalled a time to you about how after one dance show that everyone either attended or participated in, they were sorting out transport after the show and each car thought that another car was taking Sunwoo home. It resulted in Sangyeon having to turn the car around once they realised at the restaurant that Sunwoo wasn't there and a grudge that Sunwoo held for months afterwards.

When you reached the restaurant in town after a small drive, the boys had already been sat down for a few minutes. The server led you to an area where they had joined 3 tables together to accompany your large group. You could see the spaces they left in the middle for the four of you.

"Y/N," a soft voice called out for you as you reached the table. Juyeon stood up from his spot and pulled a chair out, "Hope you don't mind sitting next to me."

The girls let out some sounds of amusement behind you as they took their seats. Jiwon slid in to the sit between yours and Younghoon. With your body aflame, you returned a gracious smile, "Not at all, Juyo."

After you had sat down and greeted the other boys, you opened up the menu to confirm what you wanted despite checking it earlier. Everyone's attention had turned away from you, so Juyeon took it as an opportunity to lean closer and bring his lips up to your ear, hidden from view by the menus.

"You look beautiful, by the way," he murmured shyly.

Fighting the urge to just scream in glee and giddiness, you chewed on your bottom lip. Juyeon's hair was styled differently today with some of his hair being pushed back and away from his forehead when day-to-day, his hair fell into his eyes. He was wearing a plain button up with the top buttons undone and he had sprayed on a perfume that was completely intoxicating.

"You don't look too bad yourself," you whispered to him, masking the way your heart was racing just at the sight of him.

Juyeon returned a triumphant smile and moved back to look at his own menu. From beside you, Jiwon was practically vibrating in her seat from excitement.

"He's just being nice," you mouthed to her. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her best friend slash longstanding crush.

You were never much of a drinker in college. Sure, you partook in your fair share of college parties and bar hopping nights, but you wouldn't say that you were an expert in the matter. Your tolerance was okay, but as the dinner progressed, it seemed like a better and better idea to keep ordering more wine.

By the end of it, all non-drivers on the table were verging on tipsy, all while Kevin, Sangyeon, Minseo and Jacob watched in amusement. There hadn't been any more heart-swooning moments from Juyeon through the dinner, but just being sat in close proximity to him made you feel safe and warm.

When it was time to head back to the lake house, Sangyeon had proposed the idea of ending the night with lighting the fire outside. You had utilized it a few times already, so there was a reserve of wood and flammable materials in the corner waiting to be used. It was a clear and still night with a slight breeze, so it was perfect to light it up.

Thankfully, Sangyeon and Jacob being sober worked out as they could start the fire together without harm. You definitely didn't trust the stumbling Eric or mumbling Haknyeon to do it themselves. Even Hyunjae looked a bit out of it.

The fire was roaring strong as you perched yourself on one of the benches surrounding it. Every so often, Sangyeon was throwing a log into the flames and fanning it to keep it going. It wasn't too cold in the night, but the fire provided a blanketing warmth. You were all still in your 'fancy' outfits and everyone was taking photos at different spots in the back yard. Jacob had fetched his guitar and was strumming random melodies while Sunwoo and Chanhee sang along beside him.

To your left, you heard a click of a camera.

"Lee Juyeon, will you stop taking photos of me?" you mused as you found him with the camera up to his eyes.

He smiled softly, "What's wrong with wanting to remember this moment? You look beautiful."

Your eyes fluttered shut as his words tugged at your lips, "Juyeon..."

Juyeon let out a hearty laugh as he put the camera down and scooted closer to you on the bench, thighs pressing against each other, "I'm being too obvious, aren't I?"

Everyone else was far away enough from you to be able to hear, so you were less fearful of being subject to teasings if they heard this conversation.

You thought that the wine was giving you a bit too much liquid courage, "Keep it up and I might believe what our friends are telling me."

Juyeon's breath hitched, "And what are they telling you?"

Eyes closed, you felt Juyeon press his side more purposely against yours, "I don't wanna say," you mumbled.

"Oh come on, don't I have the right to know if it concerns me?" Juyeon retorted back, "Please?"

A burst of courage pumped through your veins, "They're saying you might have a crush."

Juyeon was silent for so long that you were afraid that if you opened your eyes, he'd have disappeared. Still, you felt the warmth of his body radiating to you. Your head was heavy, lolling in front of you while Juyeon formulated his words.

You opened your eyes to a blazing fire as Juyeon chuckled lowly beside you, "I might."

Your voice indicated the surprise you felt at his indirect confession, "You might?"

"I might," he repeated. You could hear the smile in his voice, "Hard not to."

You avoid looking at him as you find a stick on the ground and start poking the fire, "You develop crushes that quick?"

"What can I say? I've always been a hopeless romantic," Juyeon mused, stretching out his arm behind you to be able to lean on them as he shuffled in his seat.

"That's not what I've heard," you recalled the conversations you've had with his friends.

Juyeon gasped, "How much have they been talking to you about me?"

You chuckled, "You're all they can ever talk about with me, if I'm being honest."

Juyeon grumbled under his breath, "I'm gonna kill all of them!"

You paused for a moment, suddenly frowning at the orange flames, "Is this just the wine talking, Juyeon?"

He snapped his head towards you so suddenly that you do the same and finally meet his eyes. The flames reflecting back in his eyes and on his face cast a golden glow on his skin, "What? No! They might have given me the courage to say these things but I'd never deceive you."

You dropped your voice to a whisper, "Do you mean it? That you might have a crush?"

Juyeon giggled at your words as he reached up to your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. Oh, he was surely a hopeless romantic.

"Definitely."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

When you woke up the next morning, your heart was already racing. It was the residual effects of the way Lee Juyeon made you feel the night before. While you couldn't talk much more after Kevin plopped down on the bench beside you causing you two to jump apart, you shared many knowing smiles throughout the night.

But it left more questions unanswered than answered. Despite that, you tried to push down the feelings of uncertainty to focus on the present.

Kevin and Jacob were already awake by the time that you emerged from under your sheets. They were both applying their skincare on the bed, a Youtube video playing on low volume near them.

"Morning sunshine," Kevin's voice was too teasing that you knew you were in for it, "How was your night with mister loverboy?"

"Kevin," you warned lowly, sending piercing glares in his direction. Jacob had stopped what he was doing to listen in.

"All I'm saying is that you two looked very comfy by the fire last night," he shrugged innocently, "Look, Juyeon's a great guy. Not sure why I didn't think to set him up with you, but you two go together well."

"Can't believe you thought Chanhee was a better option," Jacob snorted beside him. Kevin picked up his pillow and smacked his companion with it.

"Juyeon's great," you affirmed, "I just don't want to go too fast or anything since I don't even know where I'm gonna end up."

"Have you heard back from any of the jobs you've been applying for?" Kevin asked softly.

Every single day, at the end of the evening, you would open your laptop in bed and send applications for every new job listing you could find, even if they weren't related to your degree. Someone would have to take you, right?

You nodded slowly, "I have a few interviews in the city after we get back. I'm trying not to get my hopes up with any of them since I've done so many interviews this past year to no avail."

Kevin got up to your bed and gave you a squeeze, "You'll find something, okay? You're too good to let go of and all those companies were dumb to not have you."

"Thank you Kevin," you said sincerely.

"Now, get up! It's beach day!" Kevin yelped excitedly.

Although you were facing a very large lake, there was still something different about going to the beach, digging your toes in the sand and dipping into the ocean. The nearest nice beach was nearly an hour away, so you all agreed to try and get up and get ready early.

You took a lightning fast shower and packed your things into your bag. The boys had brought tents with them that you could use to get changed in once you got to the beach, so you just slipped on a sundress with sandals. You met the girls in their room and then planned to go down to Minseo's car. Although you rode over with Kevin, you were definitely enjoying the girls' presence and so moved yourself to their car by their insistence.

When you were at the top of the staircase, you felt an arm brush against yours and the weight of your tote bag disappearing as it was snatched out of your hand.

"Morning," Juyeon breathed, bringing his lips to the shell of your ear.

You jumped in your spot, clutching your chest in surprise, "Oh my God, Juyeon! You scared me! And I can take my bag."

Juyeon raced ahead a few steps to keep it out of your grasp, "It's no problem. Are you going in Minseo's car?"

"Mhm," you nodded as he opened the front door to find some of the other boys loading their things in. You waved good morning to each of them as you unlocked Minseo's car with the keys she entrusted to you. They were still packing their last bits.

Sangyeon bounded over from his car, eyeing you and Juyeon, "Hey, we only want to take 3 cars instead of 4 to the beach. We need another person in the girls' car."

Before Juyeon could open his mouth to volunteer, Younghoon had rushed over and stretched his arms over the both of you, wedging you apart, "And that's gonna be me. Sorry Juyo. Get Eric or Hak to switch with your girlfriend."

Both you and Juyeon let out a trapped, muffled sound of surprise at his comment and you kept your eyes down on the gravel to avoid showing everyone your flushed faces.

Younghoon's belly laugh echoed through the lake, "I'm just playing, guys. You should see your faces- ow! Juyeon!"

Juyeon smirked innocently, batting his eyelashes like he didn't just kick Younghoon in the shin. Sangyeon tutted like them like a disgruntled dad as he returned to his own car. Through his window, you could see Chanhee, Changmin and Sunwoo all already asleep in the back of the car while Hyunjae loaded heavy-looking coolers into the back.

Younghoon dashed inside, probably to help the girls with their items, leaving you and Juyeon looking at each other wide-eyes and shy.

"Sorry about him," Juyeon sheepishly said.

You waved him off with a dismissive hand, "Don't worry- I've got used to the teasing. How was your sleep?"

"I barely slept last night," he admitted, "I was overthinking. I wasn't too much last night, was I?"

You shook your head immediately, "No, no. Of course not. We didn't get to talk much last night, but honestly, you're good. We're on the same page, I think."

Juyeon fought the smile on his face, "We are?"

"Definitely," you echoed his words from the previous night with a teasing tone. You could practically see him folding into himself in shyness, but you just tugged at the hem of his shirt with a soft expression, "It's so early in the morning to be teased together by Jacob and Kevin if we go in the same car, so I'll just see you at the beach. Is that okay?"

Juyeon nodded affirmatively, "I agree. I'm just gonna pass out in the car anyway. Have a safe trip, pretty."

Your cheeks were permanently red around him, "You too, Juyeon."

When your car was finally on the road going at a constant speed, Minseo looked at you through the rearview mirror and sighed, "I've always wanted a summer romance."

You frowned slightly, "Do you think me and Juyeon will just be a summer thing?"

Minseo's mouth dropped agape as she rushed to collect herself, "No, no. I didn't mean that. I just meant I've always wanted to meet someone on vacation and make a relationship out of it. I think it's cute."

"Juyeon's not one for flings," Jiwon uttered beside you. She was squished in the middle seat between you and Younghoon, who was sleeping soundly with his head nested in her shoulder, "He's never had a girlfriend or a situationship through college. I don't know about high school, but I don't think Juyeon's the type to play around with girls."

"And he wears his heart on his sleeve. We've always been able to tell what he's feeling- if he's nervous, if he's mad or frustrated. He's such a sweet guy so we hope you can take care of him too," Suyeon added on from the passenger seat.

You nodded slowly at their heartfelt words, "I've realised that about him. He's very real."

"Did you guys confess to each other last night?" Minseo asked hesitantly, "You guys looked really close by the fire."

"Kevin said the same thing this morning," you chortled, "And kind-of, I guess? It was more of a half-confession."

"That's better than nothing," Suyeon hummed, "You guys should talk properly before we leave."

You agreed noiselessly as you thought about it. There was definitely something going on between you- that much was clear. You were a little nervous about it all after remembering what Chanee said to you about people developing feelings in close proximity, but you thought to yourself that that wasn't something to project onto yourself or onto Juyeon without proper deliberation.

You were also in close proximity with the other boys, but that didn't mean that you developed feelings for them either. You felt that you owed it to Juyeon who was brave enough to be so forward with his feelings to explore the relationship without prejudice.

Sure, it might get hard when you start working and living your lives again, but that was for future you who had experienced it to decide. You've let your fears stop you from many things in your life before, but whenever you're beside Juyeon, he makes you feel like you should throw out all those doubts and just enjoy the present moment with him.

You got so in your head during the car ride that you didn't even notice the car halting to a stop and the locks clicking open.

"We're here," Suyeon murmured softly, reaching from the front to gently shake Jiwon and Younghoon awake. She turned to you with an understanding look, "You okay, babe?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, "I'm just trying not to worry about it."

"Mhm," she smiled softly as Jiwon stretched awake beside you with a sleepy grunt.

The beach car park wasn't too far from the sand, so you all loaded your arms with the items from the trunk in order to set up camp for the day. It was blazing hot with the sun high up in the sky, so you were all sweating by the time you decided on a large enough spot on the beach. Thankfully, it wasn't too busy as it was a weekday, but there were still some people dotted around.

Jacob's car hadn't arrived yet since Kevin texted in the groupchat that they had to make a stop to let Eric go to the bathroom halfway through. Sangyeon's car was taking the coolers and the tents down to the beach and thankfully, the tents didn't require setting up other than anchoring them down in place with sandbags and everyone's belongings.

The group decided a few nights ago that you were going to do a barbecue on the beach after you swam for a bit, so Hyunjae and Younghoon were separating all the ingredients they had brought for that into a corner of the space. Sunwoo, Chanhee and Changmin had immediately ran away with a beach volleyball to play with away from the food.

You laid out a bunch of beach mats and picnic blankets, keeping them from blowing away by placing someone's bag on each of the corners. Suyeon and Jiwon were applying sunscreen on each other, having changed into their bikinis already, meanwhile you were waiting for Minseo to change in the second tent after you changed in the first one.

"I'm so hungry," Minseo grumbled as she dropped her bag of clothes on the mat and rummaged for the sunscreen.

"Me too, but we can't swim for a while if we eat," you reminded her. You had munched on a breakfast bar that Minseo kept stashed in her car at the start of the journey, but you had to wait to eat lunch or else going into the ocean wasn't a good idea. You don't actually know if that's a myth or not, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

She squeezed a dollop of cream into your hands that you lathered all over the areas you could reach and then turned your attention to each other to help get the spots missed. You let it seep into your skin first so it wouldn't get washed off as soon as you entered the ocean.

By the time you felt ready to go, Jacob's car had pulled up and you could hear them coming from a mile away thanks to the speaker in Eric's hand already booming music. They didn't have much in their cars, but you could see a donut inflatable around Juyeon's arms.

"Hi gorgeous," Juyeon smirked at you as he placed down the ring on the mat, "You look ready to jump into the sea."

"We've been waiting for a bit," you burrowed your toes into the golden, warm sand.

"Blame Eric. He didn't go to the bathroom before we left and then chugged a bottle of water," Juyeon rolled his eyes, "It's okay, I put on sun protection in the car."

You laughed at the visual that appeared suddenly in your head, "You guys were definitely rubbing sunscreen on each other's backs, right?"

He hid a guilty smile, "Maybe, maybe."

Mid-laugh, you were struck silent as Juyeon suddenly pulled his shirt off in one quick motion. The past week and a half that you'd been swimming in the pool, he'd been wearing a top. Sure when he was drenched, the fabric would cling to his skin and you could see the outline of his abs through them if you were looking (you definitely were not), but seeing him suddenly shirtless in front of you had your mouth gasping apart. The sun made his abs reflect golden honey and his muscly arms flexed as he pulled the shirt off.

Juyeon smirked at your reaction, "You're gonna catch flies, babe."

You snapped your mouth shut, scrunching your face in embarrassment as he chuckled at you. Trying to walk away from him, Juyeon just huffed and caught your bare waist with his large hands, pulling you back towards him, "Don't be shy, c'mere."

A passing Changmin gagged as he glared at you two, "Oh I'm gonna be sick. Get a room."

Chanhee, who was walking by his side and practically attached to his hip, huffed along, "They make me feel so single. It's so gross."

"Fuck off," Juyeon smiled innocently at his friends, who flipped him off without even sparing a glance at the two of you. He turned his attention back to you, "Sorry, is this too much?"

The sliver of skin he was touching was burning under his fingers, but you pushed down your usual reservedness, "I feel like exploding, but no, it's okay."

He bit at his plump lips, "You're so cute. Let's go swim?"

"I don't know if swim is the right word. I told you I can't swim. Maybe waddle is better," you reminded him at your inability.

Juyeon ahh'ed and picked up the inflatable, "Use this, then. Or hold onto me, yeah? I won't let you drown, promise."

He held up his pinky finger at you, which you wrapped your own around. But instead of breaking apart, Juyeon used it to tug at you towards the ocean. He started breaking out into a jog, catching you off guard, and you picked up your pace to run beside him.

When you reached the ocean, you were struggling to catch your breath from both laughing so hard and the sudden exercise he made you do. Thankfully, the sea was warm under the sun, so it wasn't an added shock to the system.

Juyeon helped slide the ring over your body so that you were in the middle of the donut hole and you paddled deeper into the ocean where your feet couldn't touch anymore. A few metres away from you, Haknyeon and Sunwoo were splashing at each other.

"This is nice, I like this," you told Juyeon happily, "I was kinda scared to go into the ocean."

Juyeon placed his hand on the ring, "Don't worry, I got you. Let's go a bit deeper, yeah?"

You let him push you along a bit further since his feet were still touching the sand at the bottom and when the water came up to his shoulders, he stopped and let you paddle around him in the donut. He watched in amusement as you giggled to yourself happily.

"So adorable," he murmured. After a few minutes, when he realised that there was no one near the two of you for a considerable distance, he reached his arm out to half your floatie.

"Mhm?" you quirked an eyebrow at him as he pulled you in closer.

"Do you trust me?" Juyeon began, eyes shining with mischief.

Your eyes widened as you gripped the float tight to your body, "Oh no. What is it?"

Juyeon chuckled and reached for your waist under the water. He tugged at you, but the float kept your bodies at a distance.

"Wrap your legs around me. I'm gonna take the float off you," he proposed slowly, watching your reaction.

"Juyeon," you drawled in fear, holding on even tighter.

"I won't let you drown, come on," he encouraged, "I'm still touching the ground."

Reluctantly, you moved your body as close as you could to him. The minute he felt your legs close around his torso, he flicked the float off over your head and pulled you in flush with his toned arms. Disregarded, the donut moved steadily with the waves.

"I told you," he murmured. You had got a bit surprised from the way he pulled you tight to his body, instinctively tucking your head into his neck and squealing. Juyeon rubbed at your back with his palm to reassure you.

This was definitely the closest that you'd been to Juyeon at all- actually, it was a major step up altogether. You think that you half-confessions you'd shared with each other had given him all the confidence and courage all at once.

"Is this okay?" Juyeon asked quietly as both of your hearts thumped against your chests strongly.

He had asked you that so much, just showing how much of a gentleman he truly was, never wanting to go further than you were comfortable with.

"Yeah," you hummed softly, pulling your head back to look at him. A gentle smile rested on his features as he gazed at you. Your back was turned away from the shore, "Are they looking?"

Juyeon craned his head around you and stifled a laugh, "They're trying to act like they're not. Do you care?"

You thought about it for a moment. To be honest, they all already knew; they were the ones pushing you together at every moment. You shook your head, "No."

Juyeon grinned, moving the hair that had floated to your face behind your ear. Your hands were preoccupied hanging on for dear life around his neck, so he took it as his obligation to help, "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

A lot of guys had told you that, especially on the blind dates you've been on. Whenever they said it, it never felt real and always just felt like they were saying it to get in your pants or as a gateway for you to owe them something. When Juyeon says it to you, his words drip with sincerity.

"Thank you," you mumbled shyly, moving your head back into his neck.

Your torsos were pressed against each other, so you could feel the rumble and vibration of his body as he laughed at your reaction. You tried to unbury yourself away from him, but his hand crept up to the back of your neck and kept you there, sending shivers down your spine. Your body shook in anticipation as the silence hung thick in the air.

"I'm just gonna say it," he breathed out shakily, "I really do like you, Y/N. I know we've only known each other 2 weeks, but I've really enjoyed spending time with you. You honestly have made me feel things I haven't before and I get excited to see you every morning. That's so cheesy, I know. If you do like me back, I don't want to ask you to be my girlfriend yet, but would you be down to keep getting to know each other and going on dates after this and seeing where it takes us?"

You're not sure if he kept your face buried into his skin for your benefit or his, since his voice was shaking as he spoke. You smiled into his neck, whispering confidently, "I like you too, Juyeon. Isn't it obvious?"

"Maybe, but I like that. I don't like playing games," Juyeon released his hold on the back of your neck and moved his arm back to your waist to keep you pressed against him.

"You've only been out of college a few weeks, how are you so mature already?" you playfully teased as you peered up at him.

Rolling he eyes, he squeezed at your waist, "I've always been mature. It's a shame we didn't meet earlier; now I feel like they were gate keeping you away from me."

"You were one of the last ones I had yet to meet," you revealed, "I had met everyone briefly other than you, the girls, Eric and Hak."

He bumped your forehead with his, "Best for last, right?"

"Definitely," you grinned.

"Okay, I dragged you out just to tell you all this, to be honest. Let's go back to everyone before I lose control and kiss you or something," Juyeon suddenly blurted, taking a few steps back to the shore with you still wrapped around him.

A surge of confidence had you squeezing your legs around him to stop him, "Who's stopping you?"

Juyeon's eyes widened in surprise as he chewed at his lip. Reluctantly, he dropped his voice and leaned in closer to you, "Are you sure?" His hot breath fanned over your lips.

He'd practically made all the first moves up until this point and you could see the honesty in his eyes. You figured you'd save him the trouble as you reached forward and pressed your lips against his.

He tasted a bit salty from when he had splashed the ocean water over his face and a bit like the orange Fanta he was drinking earlier when he got out of the car. Juyeon yelped in shock against your lips, but smiled into them as he applied more pressure and properly slotted his lips between yours.

You hadn't planned on actually making out with him in the middle of the ocean as your friends watched on in astonishment, but he captured your lips every time you pulled away slightly and licked at your bottom lip with his tongue. Your hold around his neck grew stronger as his grip on your waist grew tighter.

"Juyeon," you whispered against him when you came up for air.

"Don't blame me, this is your doing," he uttered each word between deep kisses. He wasn't kidding, he felt like he had lost control when it came to you and he couldn't bring himself to pull away from you. The gentle tide was bobbing the two of you up and down, but he kept his hold tight as he kept your lips attached and slotted his tongue into your mouth.

You indulged in him, deepening the kiss even more, "I'm really glad I met you, Juyeon," you panted.

This was enough to pull him away from you, keeping your foreheads pressed together, "Me too, Y/N. Me too."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

So you didn't hear the end of it from your friends during the rest of the beach day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. It wasn't like you'd planned the impromptu make out session to be witnessed by 13 pairs of eyes, but honestly it's their fault for not looking away.

Juyeon also didn't hear the end of it from Sunwoo for letting his inflatable donut float away too far out of reach to retrieve. The younger boy forced him to send more money than it actually cost as compensation, but Juyeon believed it was totally worth it.

It was your final full day at the lake house and you haven't been able to peel Juyeon away from you for more than a couple minutes. In full honesty, you'd always wanted a boyfriend that clung to your side and kept you warm, safe and protected and he was definitely checking off all those boxes.

"Disgusting," Hak scoffed as he passed behind you on the couch. You were sitting sideways in Juyeon's lap, scrolling on your phone as he played against Hyunjae on a game you had never heard of. The competitor was sat far away from the two of you on a different couch across the living room.

"It's not my fault you're single," Juyeon clapped back without missing a beat.

Haknyeon groaned and ran away faster to the back yard. You'd already spent the morning outside- Juyeon had been making good on his promise to improve your table tennis skills this whole trip, but you definitely wouldn't consider yourself a ping pong goddess yet. Thankfully, there wasn't a time limit anymore for him to keep helping you improve.

In between rounds, Juyeon would pat your head and stroke your hair softly. You would turn to him and give a soft smile that he would return before Hyunjae loaded up the next game. You were just going through your emails, blocking out in your calendar all the interviews you had amassed from your applications over the three weeks. You were feeling more optimistic about returning to the world, even more so with new relationships and friendships making your life more exciting. You were also excited to see your college friends again; they were sulky about missing out seeing you become smitten with a man, but their teasing was never-ending anyway.

"Baby you can go join the others if you're bored," Juyeon murmured lowly as he kept his eyes on the flat screen TV. He was aggressively mashing the buttons on the controller and you actually had no idea if he knew what he was doing.

"I'm fine here," you assured him.

One thing that had changed since Juyeon confessed to you was the development of pet names. Juyeon adored calling you every pet name under the sun, no matter how shy or blushing they made you. Another thing was his clinginess; Juyeon barely touched you at all before you two bared your feelings and you had no idea how he kept that side of him under wraps. He was lucky that you indulged in each and every one of his quirks.

When Juyeon was by your side, he was either holding your hand, playing with your fingers or wrapping his entire, huge body around you. He was so much taller than you that he practically swamped you, but it made you feel so giddy. Now you knew the exact meaning of the honeymoon phase.

He showed you his affection previously through acts of service and he hasn't slowed down in that department since. In only a few days, he had committed himself to making you a morning beverage as soon as you woke up and making sure that you were warm when the nights became cooler or shaded when the sun was too hot. Sure, he may have a patch of sunburn on his back, but as long as you didn't, he was a-okay.

"You're quieter today. Are you sure everything's okay?" Juyeon hummed. Hyunjae was too busy screaming at the TV to hear anything you two were saying.

"I dunno. I'm excited to go back and explore us, but at the same time, I really, really don't want to leave," you squeezed your eyes shut with a deep breath, "I don't want anything to ruin what we have."

Juyeon's eyebrows pulled together in concern, but he dropped a comforting kiss on your shoulder to comfort you, "It might be different, which I know is scary, but that's the exciting part. It might be even better than this! We'll always have this summer together, but just give us a chance out there, yeah?"

"Of course, Juyo," you flopped your head into his chest and nuzzled yourself into his shirt, "I don't have any doubts about us, I promise. It's just that everything is so new."

"It's gonna be great, baby. I'm already planning all the dates I wanna take you on and all the things I wanna show you and everywhere I wanna eat with you and-"

Hyunjae let out a yelp of frustration as he lost the battle. You don't know how Juyeon was winning despite him rambling adorably to you.

Your lips curled into a smile at his blabbing and you cut him off by pressing your lips into his jawline. Juyeon mirrored your expression and craned his head to connect your lips together. Juyeon was definitely insatiable when it came to kissing.

"I thought the pining was bad, but this is much, much, much, much worse," Hyunjae cried out, throwing his controller on the seat beside him, "Do you two have no shame? Y/N, you were so shy in the beginning."

Your head was buried into Juyeon's neck as he wrapped his arms around you, game abandoned. Feet padded loudly on the hardwood floors as Kevin's voice sounded out, "Oh, she's only shy at first. Y/N is actually a menace."

"This is all kind of your doing, Kevin," you gestured to you and Juyeon.

Kevin bounded over and leaned down to squeeze the two of you in his arms, "And that's why I expect your first baby to be named after me! Kevin or Hyungseo, I'm not picky."

Juyeon scoffed at him and shoved him away, "Shut up, you didn't do anything. Don't give him credit, Y/N."

"You know I had to beg Y/N for three months straight to come, right?" Kevin deadpanned, "I definitely deserve thanks."

"Well it's definitely no thanks to you that I only met her now when you've known her for a year and a half!" Juyeon retorted passionately.

Kevin plopped down on the couch beside Juyeon, shoving away your feet that were perched up on them, "We had to physically drag you out of the dance studio if we wanted to hang out with you. You genuinely had a visceral reaction to the thought of leaving that basement."

Juyeon had been showing you videos of his choreographies the past few days and while he was incredibly innately talented, you also could see how much work he put into his craft. You were definitely very, very attracted to that side of him, not only for his talent but also for his dedication and persevering nature. He promised to teach you a few things about dance, but you told him not to get his hopes up in that department.

Juyeon couldn't argue with that one, so he just nuzzled his head into your body. You squealed at how adorable he was being, while the other boys around you audibly cringed in unison.

"Is it too late to back out of our tenancy agreement?" Changmin sighed, also taking a seat on the adjacent couch. Juyeon just threw a pillow at him that he caught and popped on his lap.

Both Juyeon and Changmin were employed by the dance studio to start after graduation. Since they'd been house mates for a couple of years already, it just made sense to continue living together at a place closer to the studio. Another reason why you'd never met Juyeon was that out of the batch of guys in your graduating class, only Kevin lived apart from them off-campus. Chanhee was left behind from the roommate situation after Juyeon and Changmin found a new place, but he quickly weaselled his way into convincing the incoming seniors Sunwoo, Haknyeon and Eric to live with him in a 4 bedroom house since he got a job at the university.

"Where are you gonna live by the way, Y/N?" Kevin asked curiously.

"My childhood home isn't that far, so I'll probably stay at home for a bit until I figure out everything. I'll probably get a place in town as soon as I can," you manifested to yourself, "I'm trying not to worry about it."

Juyeon gently ran his fingers through your hair, "Yeah, don't worry about it."

"You can sleep on mine and Jacob's couch if you ever need. We're gonna get a pull-out," Kevin grinned. He was giving up his solo, roommate-less life to move in with his fellow Canadian.

Juyeon gasped dramatically and trapped you in his arms, "No way is she sleeping on your couch! What if Cobie-hyung tries to steal her from me?"

Kevin reached over the couch and slapped Juyeon around the head playfully, "Stop being jealous that Y/N and Jacob went on a date before she even knew you existed."

You giggled at his pout and leaned into his hold, "Jacob has no chance against you."

A pained sound came from the direction of the back door, "Y/N! You wound me!"

"Why are you all just suddenly appearing when you're mentioned in the conversation?" you cried out exasperatedly as Jacob passed by the living room. He sent you a teasing wink, which Juyeon belatedly blocked by placing his hand in front of your face. You swatted at his hand, but he in turn just gripped your fingers in his hold.

Eventually, everyone congregated in the living room one by one. It was your last night together, so you all decided to just collate a bunch of food in the middle of the living room, put on some music and drink if you wanted to. Juyeon had volunteered to drive Kevin's car home since Kevin had a whole bottle of whiskey he was dying to finish, so you decided to stay sober with him so you could stay up on the drive without the effects of a hangover.

In the kitchen, you, Juyeon and Chanhee had prepared a bunch of snacks, ramen, meat and other food, meanwhile everyone dragged their pillows and duvets downstairs. You don't know if one big sleepover on the couches and hardwood floors was good for your bodies the night before a long drive home, but it seemed like the best idea at the moment.

It was amusing to watch everyone get drunk and recount their favourite memories from the trip, such as finally succeeding in ambushing Sunwoo to throw him in the pool. One of your own personal favourites was finally being consistently on the winning team of chicken fight in the pool once you convinced Juyeon to partner up with you. You deduced that Kevin was the problem in the pair.

When the night was dwindling down and everyone began to transition into a sleepy state, you changed the music to a calm Disney film that you could leave running in the background. Eric and Sunwoo were the first to knock out, snoring on one of the mattress they had hauled from their rooms. Two mattresses and a knocked out Hyunjae, Sangyeon, Minseo and Suyeon away, you were tucked under Juyeon's comforter and cuddling against his body. He had one arm under your head and the other draped over the top of you, his fingertips ghosting on your back. You were facing him, chin tilted up as you peppered silent kisses along the bottom half of his face and his neck.

"Are you sure you don't mind falling asleep next to me? I can move if you want," Juyeon mumbled sleepily, his eyelids heavy and closing involuntarily no matter how much he fought. Even in this state, he still put you and your comfort first.

"Thanks, Juyo. This is perfect, I promise," you cooed into his skin, "Let's go to sleep, yeah?"

"Mhm, goodnight my love," Juyeon's breathing eventually slowed down and became more steady as his heartbeat did the same. You matched his breathing and it wasn't long before you fell into dreamland with him, "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, my Juyeon."

You never could have expected or anticipated just how much this trip that Kevin had pestered you to go on would change your life. Maybe your story with Juyeon was a whirlwind romance, but it was still just the start. You never could have foreseen the way the sweet boy with the cat-like sleepy eyes could unpick your heart and nestle himself in there. You never would have guessed you would find comfort and solace in someone like Lee Juyeon at such an uncertain time of your life.

And when he dropped you off at the doorstep of your parents' house at the end of the trip (it was definitely way too early for him to come inside), the searing kiss he left on your lips and the promise to see you the next day made you feel like meeting Lee Juyeon was your serendipitous fate - an accidental discovery, a happenstance you stumbled upon, but one that was inevitable in every way.

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for reading. find my masterlist here & all likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are so, so appreciated <3

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minniesfiles · 7 months ago

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{WONWOO} FIC RECOMMENDATIONS

ᯓ★ VOL. 1

(note; each volume has 15 fic recs)

[a] — angst│[f] — fluff │[s] — smut

❖ lucky — by @97-liners

the fanfic trope where a character wakes up loopy after wisdom tooth surgery. | 1.3k [f]

❖ closer — by @hannieehaee

after making it all the way to your final year of uni still having not experienced a single orgasm, you decided to take matters into your hands. your solution? asking your best friend wonwoo to teach you all he knew. | 12.9k [s, f, a]

❖ endpoint — by @highvern

Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint. | 19.5k [f, a, s]

❖ in front of me — by @wonustars

jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. | 49.6k [a, s]

❖ payment due — by @solarwonux

HYBE U one of the top highly prestigious universities in the country. A shit hole, a total money making scam that liked to sucked the life out of its students. Not being able to meet the funds to pay for your tuition your best friend lets you in a little secret. A way he’s been keeping afloat for years now, easy money. The problem is you want in. | 56.1k [f, a, s]

❖ blind — by @wtf-taeyong

? [a]

❖ ten questions — by @chocosvt

wonwoo isn’t at home as often as he used to be. you know he doesn’t exactly have a regular job, but you still can’t help this feeling of isolation. the less you see him, the more questions you have, which provokes one question above all - does he even have the time for you anymore? | 4.3k [a, f]

❖ a moon without stars — by @chocosvt

you work as a part time florist whilst jeon wonwoo balances his time between being a body piercer and helping out at his uncle’s garage. the two of you are thrust together in an awkward meet up when you get your first piercing. wonwoo thinks you’re kinda odd, but he knows he isn’t much different, and little by little he becomes infatuated with how you can make watering hibiscus flowers sound so interesting. | 18k [f, a, s]

❖ wonwoo: the protector — by @gamerwoo

If there’s one thing Wonwoo hates, it’s feeling helpless; like there’s nothing he can do to stop somebody he loves from getting hurt. It’s happened to him once before, and he swears it’ll never happen again. Especially not after he meets you. | series [f, a, s]

❖ pomegranate — by @idyllic-ghost

You, a princess from a doomed kingdom, have been arranged to be married to an heir of a much more prosperous kingdom. However, when you first visit them, you realize that you would much rather be with the heir's younger brother. | 13.8k [a, s]

❖ sweet chaos — by @viastro

you and wonwoo are the best assassins in south korea. however, underneath it all, the two of you fell in love. what will you do when you're hired to kill him? | 3.4k [a, f]

❖ take a chance with me — by @saythenametotheworld

You could not believe that no one ever told you how frustrating (and beautiful) it was to be hopelessly captivated by a boy who thinks love is overrated. | 25k [f, s, a]

❖ boys and their toys — by @babyleostuff

Fighting with you has to be one of wonwoo's biggest nightmares, so when you reset his game - will that be enough for him to finally lose his temper? | 1.9k [f, a]

❖ grease — by @gyuswhore

In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go. | 5.8k [f, s]

❖ the story of us — by @gyuswhore

So many walls that you can't break through; except you do. | 2.1k [a, f]

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cutehoons02 · 1 month ago

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PREVIEW: Blood Sacrifices

words of the one-shot: around 17/18k taglist is open!! publication: 5 June or 6 June This one-shot is the first of 4 stories: Desire:Unleash

-------------

The Blood Bank was packed with with vampires, each with their own code granting access to special rooms where they could drink from blood bags or, for those who preferred it, pick up sealed packs to take home. He was sitting in the designated room, where his blood type was clearly marked on the wall, waiting to drink. But the moment the first drops touched his tongue and slid down his throat, he knew something was wrong: the scent from the bag had changed. Jake noticed it instantly, as the ruby liquid grazed his palate. It wasn’t the same. It no longer had that warm, deep note... the one that used to scream inside him every time his tongue touched the vial’s spout.

He drank. One sip, two... then stopped. His fangs had emerged of course they had, it was still blood but they hadn’t tapered the way they usually did, and his breathing grew shallow. His heart-if he could still call it that-was beating too slowly and he didn’t feel that jolt of electricity, that erotic surge, that always came when he drank blood. Especially yourblood.

He placed the container on the lab table, staring at the red liquid trembling under the cold neon light. “What the hell…” he muttered, pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt tighter over his arms too long, too thin. The lab door opened with a hiss of sterile air.

'Oh, Jake. Still here? It’s late. Why haven’t you finished all your bags?' The Blood Bank supervisor a vampire who looked about seventy, but was probably over five hundred gave him a warm, familiar grimace. He had known Jake since the first time he’d shown up, one of the rare vampires who could only feed on one very specific type of blood. 'I’ve never seen you leave a single drop behind. What’s going on, kid?'

Jake shot to his feet, red eyes gleaming. “It’s not… it’s not the same as always. This isn’t the blood I drank last week,” he said, irritation sharp in his voice from the lingering taste. 'What do you mean?' the supervisor asked, puzzled. “The AB Rh negative blood bag I get every week. This one’s different. The chemical profile is off. The iron levels are higher. The glucose composition, different. And the smell... The smell is completely wrong.”

'Jake…' “I want to know why. I want to know why you changed my donor.”The supervisor sighed. He opened an old tablet, tapped the screen a few times, and scrolled through the data. Then he stopped. 'Anonymous donor. Code ‘VT019-Z’. Last donation: two weeks ago. The donor signed off. Chose to stop contributing. No explanation given.'

Jake went pale. His hands turned colder, as if someone was ripping away the only thing that still kept him warm kept him alive, these past five years. He’d gone through several donors, but you were his favorite. He didn’t even know who you were, but your blood was pure addiction, poison, and longing all at once.

“They… don’t want to donate anymore?” he murmured, lips tight in a pout. 'It happens. Sometimes donors change their minds. Too tired, too drained… or they just stop. They can’t donate forever. What’ll you do when the person with this code dies? Jake, you need to understand-humans have the right to choose. And don’t worry, there will always be someone out there with the blood type you need.'

“It can’t happen to me.”

'Jake-' "I need that blood. I’ve been fine for five years, even with slightly lower glucose or iron levels. But my body will feel the difference.” His tone was too human, too childish and the supervisor realized just how fragile he was under all that brilliance. Jake said nothing more. He walked out. He returned to his bunker in the university basement, where the hum of servers drowned out his thoughts. He still had a couple of your bags left in his apartment, and now more than ever, he was determined to find out who you were.

Twenty-four hours later.

The code was burned into his mind: VT019-Z. He wasn’t supposed to access the donor database. It was locked down multiple layers of protection and if anyone found out he’d violated privacy protocols, he’d be slapped with a lawsuit and a massive fine but to discover who had kept him alive for the past five years, Jake would do anything. And Jake was a hacker. A desperate one and when you put those two things together, even the gods start to tremble.

So he slid on his nerdy glasses, his noise-cancelling headphones, and started typing. Encrypting. Bouncing through firewalls. Masking his IP. “Who are you, VT019-Z?” he whispered, fingers dancing over the keyboard as he entered the code into the Blood Bank’s account database.

Then—he saw it. The file opened after nearly two hours of relentless hacking, and Jake couldn’t believe his eyes. Your photo but most of all your name, bolded above the blood type he’d been drinking for years. That blood had come from yourbody. And you were the only girl who had ever truly driven him mad—from the first moment he saw you in the computer science classroom.

Name: [YOUR NAME] Age: 22 Major: Communication and Marketing Status: Influencer – verified profile Last Donation: Two weeks ago Reason for Stopping: Confidential

Jake’s breath caught. He shoved his chair back and slammed his head into the backrest. He knew you, of course he did. Everyone at university knew you. You were one of the most popular girls on campus, one of the hottest influencers in the state. You’d taken a basic coding class with him. Sat in the front row with your oversized Apple headphones, designer sunglasses: Prada, Miu Miu, Céline. Hats of all kinds. Bags that cost more than his entire apartment. A clean girl dream, styled like someone who had it all and you’d smiled at him once in a while. Maybe just to be polite. Because to you, he was the loser in the back row. The one in faded hoodies, who stammered when he spoke to you. The one who watched you from afar when you ordered matcha vanilla lattes at the campus café. The one who’d had a crush on you since day one.

“It was her. It’s always been her. The blood… it was hers.”

Jake buried his face in his hands. His lips trembled. He felt like crying but his body hadn’t allowed itself that release in a long, long time. So instead, he collapsed onto the bed: a giant mattress with black covers that smelled of something dark and citrusy, set atop stacked server crates. He still held your half-empty blood bag in his hand, drinking from it like it was his only reason to exist. And maybe it was.

After a few minutes of silent sobbing and cursing the world, Heeseung walked in his work partner, roommate, and one of his closest friends.

-Bro, where the hell have you been? You disappeared for two days.-

Jake didn’t answer. His lips were stained red, he buried his longish hair into the pillow and groaned softly.

“Did you binge again?” Heeseung asked, walking closer like an older brother checking on his little one. Sometimes Jake overindulged in the rare blood he was allowed to drink and it left him a mess but Heeseung could see Jake looked physically fine. It was the expression that was off.

“It’s not my blood,” Jake muttered, clutching the bag to his chest like a child hugging a stuffed toy.

-What? What do you mean, Jake?- Heeseung said, serious now.

“My blood. The one I always drink. The one that keeps me calm, that makes me feel… alive. It’s gone. The donor stopped. And I’m obsessed.” -Jake… I’m sorry. But you know donors can stop after a few years. It’s their right.-

“It’s her. The girl. It’s always been her. She’s my worst nightmare,” Jake whispered, curling up against Heeseung. -What girl?- Jake turned to him, eyes shining.

“Her. [Your Name]. The popular one. The one everyone wants. I was drinking her blood and didn’t even know it, every time I looked at her, I felt something and couldn’t explain it. Sure, she’s gorgeous and completely my type but now I get it. It’s because she was inside me. Her blood. Every week. Feeding me. And now…”

-Oh… shit.- Jake nestled into Heeseung’s arms, still hugging the bag like a lifeline.

“Why did she stop, Heeseung? Why doesn’t she want to donate anymore? I didn’t do anything to her. She doesn’t even know me. I respect her....I do..but I need her. I need her blood. I need to feed… and I need to possess her.”

Heeseung crouched beside him, lost for words. Jake’s eyes welled up with blood-tinged tears.

“I want to talk to her. I want to give her everything. I just want her to let me stay close. I just… I just need to feel her inside me again. Just one more time.”

And in that moment, Heeseung realized the youngest vampire in the room had crossed a line....He wasn’t just dependent anymore. He was obsessed and it was about to get worse.

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faevi · 2 years ago

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TABOO LOVE. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: Your parents & Geto Suguru are visiting you & Satoru’s new apartment. You’re nervous about having to keep such a big secret. You’re step-siblings & your parents thought it was such a wonderful idea to share an apartment in a new city. Good thing Satoru helps you relax. Before & after their visit.

Word Count: 18,762.

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her), dark content, STEPCEST (step-siblings), STEPBRO!gojo, daddy kink, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, blowjob, face-fucking, breath-play (via cock), choking, unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, cowgirl position, creampie, cock-warming, spanking (impact play), dirty talk, degradation, humiliation, hickeys, marking someone, bruises, pain, dacryphilia, crying, big dick gojo, stomach bulging, cum denial, multiple orgasms, a stressful dinner with the fam(?), hiding a taboo secret, jealousy, everything is consensual, tit slapping, body worshipping, possessiveness, suguru is here too!!! not really a warning but if it piques people's interest, suguru temporarily shows interest in you, too.

I think that’s it?? Please let me know (kindly) if I accidentally missed anything and I’ll add it!

Note: Obviously please take note that this is dark content and contains something that is taboo - being step-siblings. Aka stepcest. Don't read if you don't like it (: It’s not just 18k words of smut, I did actually write the dinner scene, which was kind of rough to write basically 5 characters at once kldfjgdf. Instead of the usual 2. I haven’t edited this and yet again, not my best writing but, I hope people will still read and enjoy it ; - ;. Please let me know if you do!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Satoru could hear your anxious footsteps throughout the entire apartment, hand cupping his cheek as his elbow rested against the edge of the couch, watching you with slight amusement as you moved from room to room. He’s not as worried as you are about the upcoming scenario that will play out. Satoru clears his throat before calling out.

“Baby, just come and relax. Sit with your ever-so-handsome boyfriend.”

You look over your shoulder in the direction of his voice, choking on a strangled laugh at his words before head whipping around to double-check the set of drawers in the shared bedroom. The photo frames aren’t there. Good. Instead, just a cluttered mess of Satoru’s belongings. That was your idea.

“You should probably start calling yourself my stepbrother again, for practice. Don’t want you slipping up.” You couldn’t help but whine out dramatically, footsteps thumping down the hallway until you’re back in sight of Satoru. You stand there for a moment, gazing at him. Satoru’s eyebrow raises, hand extending out towards you.

Your boyfriend— Also known as your stepbrother, doesn’t seem nervous at all. In a couple of hours, your parents are visiting for dinner. Both of you were lucky enough to claim excuses to move to another city about a year ago and it’s been perfect. Your excuse was university and Satoru’s was work. Your parents didn’t even question sharing an apartment when it was noted that there were two bedrooms. Just being friendly roommates as well as step-siblings. It was way, way more than that to the pair of you. Deep down in your teenage years, you were always attracted to your stepbrother and desperately tried to be in denial. Until that one fateful night where you ended up in his arms after drunk-possessive sex; learning that he felt the same way towards you. That is a story for another time; feeling too stressed out to think fondly of your first time with your stepbrother.

Now there is no more hiding behind closed doors. Able to hold each other’s hands. Go on public dates. Lots of public affection— That was definitely a pleasant surprise to learn that Satoru is a sucker to hold onto you in public and not be ashamed. Even mutual friends from the city are utterly oblivious to your ‘history’ outside of dating. It’s impossible to just cut your family outright. Especially when love and good relationships are tightly bound. You still want your family. It’s just… Satoru was more than that. Good thing you both just have to be quiet about your passionate love affair, away from family and old friends.

“Y/N, snap out of it and just sit on my lap already. There’s nothing to worry about.” Satoru attempts to reassure you as he reaches out for you, fingers twitching with eagerness to touch you. He loves touching you. Can never get enough. His large hands manage to grab you by your hips and pull you in close. You prevent him from pulling you directly onto his lap, hand against his toned chest.

“How are you not nervous? Worried, even? Our parents are coming in about five hours and you’re just sitting there being all—“

“All?” Satoru asks, lips forming a playful grin as his fingers caress your hips, loving the sight of you squirming and pathetically trying to pull his hands off of your body. He knows your body craves him. All the time. Since day one or even before that day.

“Cute.” You sigh with feign annoyance and collapse onto his lap, unable to resist the comfort that is Gojo Satoru. His arms wrap around you and pull you with ease until you’re slumped against his upper body, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I am nervous, I just don’t see the logic of being your kind of nervous.” He jokes lightly, ignoring the jab of your elbow. Even dating, you both still have the habit of the bickering, playful sibling moments you developed through the teenage years of knowing each other. Not many years apart, in his defence. Not even blood-related. Didn’t /exactly/ grow up together. You met him when he was already in his upper teenage years. Those are the excuses he’d try to use if anyone found out and showed disgust. Satoru may have been protective of you when you were younger and still going through high school but, he never really viewed you as a close sister or anything. He cared for you but, in his eyes; His father and your mother ended up together. You were just there, ready to cause havoc and have him fall for you.

“They’re just staying for dinner, alright? We can handle that much. Sit opposite of each other and do that typical sibling shit.” He reassures, long fingers playing with a few strands of your pretty hair. He always liked your hair. You bury your face against the side of his neck and inhale deeply, wishing you could just soak in everything that is him. “But, I hate doing that. I came here to get away from it and to be with you properly. As lovers.” You confess quietly, voice shaking. Satoru’s face softens from hearing your words. Usually, people think he can’t be serious. Friends often joke about him not having a serious bone in his body. They’re all wrong. You know the real Satoru, every shade of him. His hand comes down to tenderly stroking along your back, pressing multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“I know, baby girl. It always feels close to impossible and I want to just kiss you whenever I want, without having to worry. It’s just sometimes, we have to go back to what we originally were— siblings. Step-siblings.” He corrects himself swiftly, nails grazing your back lightly. Not blood-related and never will be. “It won’t be every day, Y/N. Just a couple of times a year, maximum. Just for a few hours, okay?” He says in his low voice, feeling you relax into him.

You hate to admit that he’s right. It’s even a miracle that this is the first time your parents are visiting this year and they won’t be for Christmas. You should look at this as luck. You can do this. Just for a few hours. You’re beyond nervous about everything and sure, wish you could hold his hand over the dining table but… You can do this. Both of you can. You sniffle quietly, tilting your head to look at the wall, still clinging onto the white-haired male who easily towers above you, even when sitting. “Okay... There’s nothing that screams us being a couple out in the open, right? All tucked away?”

Satoru playfully rolls his eyes, fingers curling around your chin to gently coax you to look up at him. “Everything is hiding, even my monster-sized condoms. So they can think their charming son gets zero action at all.” Satoru adds jokingly, enjoying the sight of your expression twisting and smacking his chest. “Rather they think that than you fucking someone that isn’t me.” You grumble quietly, leaning in to bump your nose against his. “Ah-ah, Y/N. You know how I feel when you show your jealous side. Better watch your mouth before I fuck it and get cum stains on the couch from there being too much of my seed for you to swallow.” Satoru teases, feeling rather endeared that you made no rejection of ‘monster-sized’. To you, he’s so huge that you can’t even deny that. Satoru leans in to press his lips against yours eagerly; desperate to get his fill before the nerve-wracking night begins.

Every sensible thought went right out of the window as you responded to the kiss with your own eagerness. Hands coming up to cup his cheeks as your body presses against his, fitting against him perfectly like soulmates. You belong to him, thinking so when he’s able to leave you so breathless and your head spinning just from a single kiss. His soft tiers move against yours, slowly devouring you. His finger presses against the underside of your chin to keep your head in place, wanting to take his sweet time with you. The white-haired male’s other hand glides down to boldly grope your ass cheek, easily coaxing out a needy whimper from you.

“Nn, wait— We can’t, mmf..” You try to stop Satoru from going any further, but words fall on deaf ears. His long fingers splay out across your ass cheek, roughly tugging on the thin fabric that acts as a shield. “I don’t fucking care about making a mess, baby. We have plenty of time. Let Daddy ease your nerves, hm? Don’t you want Daddy to take care of you?” Satoru whispers hotly against your ear between deep breaths, firm hands pushing you further down against his crotch, cock already throbbing. It isn’t about him, though. Satoru wants to help you relax and he knows that his fingers alone can make you melt and keen for him.

Your head already starts to feel fuzzy and warm. People would probably tell you that you’re going to hell if they knew that you call, not only your boyfriend but your stepbrother; Daddy. Neither of you cared. It just felt right between you both. “Can we at least move to the bedroom?” You plead softly, feeling two of his digits drag along the wet patch that forms on your shorts. “Y/N, you’re so fucking filthy. Already getting so wet just from me fondling your ass and kissing you? You’re soaked.”

The humiliation drives you further, embarrassed as a hand clamps tightly over your mouth to muffle the sounds that dare to escape as the two fingers continue to drag up and down slowly. Satoru always enjoys humiliating you. He can be quite sadistic and the only one who can handle him is you. Still, Satoru isn’t /too/ evil and still prefers you to feel comfort and so he lifts you with ease, carrying you down the hallway, hand soothingly rubbing along your back once more. Your arms and legs wrap around his tall form, clinging to him so tightly. Satoru just finds it cute. It’s even cuter when you hug his arm, breasts cushioning either side as you try not to act jealous of a girl hitting on him. If only you knew that no girl could ever even compete with you. He’ll always be your lover and stepbrother. The world doesn’t matter to his selfish heart.

From a height, Satoru just drops you onto the bed that you both share, laughing at the sight of your playful glare, body bouncing from the mattress. The sight of his wide grin is more than enough to ease your mind. You love this man. “Shall I grab the camera and take some photos? Plaster them all across the walls for our parents to see?” He jokes, hand instantly grabbing a hold of your ankle and you move to kick him. “I’m supposed to be the bratty one, Satoru.” You say breathlessly, feeling his large hands tenderly massaging up your leg. He leans down to press a kiss to your ankle, bright blue eyes focused on your face. “You are the brat and I can easily put you in place. Babbling like a crybaby as your ass throbs. My sweet crybaby. All mine. Let me focus on making my girl feel good.”

Satoru gently drops your leg before he easily manhandles your body until you’re resting against the pillows, hands firmly keeping your quivering legs apart as he starts to lower himself to the ground, just at the edge of the bed. “W-Wait! Maybe we should— get a towel, or something.. So we don’t make a mess.. They’ll explore, I know they will.” You mumble out shyly, yelping from the pleasant sting of pain that spreads through your inner thigh, glancing down to see Satoru’s hand now soothing the pain. “Stop worrying. We have plenty of time.” He attempts to reassure you, though far too distracted by his lust to properly calm you down. Selfish? Maybe. Satoru just knows that you will end up relaxing and even chasing for more of his touch.

Making sure you’re close enough, Satoru wraps his arms around your quivering thighs to hoist you towards him, dragging your body across the neatly made bed before his face is buried against your cunt, inhaling the scent of your sex deeply. You whimper softly, shifting yourself onto your elbows to see the gorgeous sight you’ll never be able to forget. Your stepbrother between your legs. The white-haired male looks up at you from beneath his white lashes, tongue flat as he drags it teasingly along your covered folds, knowing that you’re only wearing booty shorts that are already soaking through. Your breath hitches from feeling the fabric rough against your sensitive clit, biting down on your lip in a pathetic attempt to silence yourself.

“Don’t,” Satoru warns, nipping at your inner thigh. “Our parents aren’t here yet, I want to hear you.” He says, unwrapping his arms around your thighs and hooking his long fingers beneath the elastic band of your shorts. You couldn’t help but huff, looking off to the side and your teeth not holding your lower lip anymore. You wouldn’t dare disobey him. “What if they decide to surprise us and arrive early?” You question anxiously, though not stopping as Satoru guides your legs up so he can tug your flimsy pair of shorts up the length of them. “Then they’ll see their son eating out their beloved daughter and enjoying every moment of it.” He states and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Step..” You hastily add, flustered. Though, you couldn’t deny that deep down the thought of being caught with him is so arousing and Satoru knows that. You’ve often gotten riled up by his filthy words about potentially getting caught. Satoru’s large hands grip your inner thighs to force them open and you drop your upper body back down to the bed, a hand coming to cover up your face and Satoru eagerly takes the pretty sight in. Your needy pussy coated in your juices already, giving it a light sheen beneath the bedroom light and looking even more enticing. “Fuck, you’re dripping so much. Even anxious, you won’t ever stop thinking of Daddy’s cock.” The white-haired male states, soft lips curling up to form a grin.

His humiliating words just go straight to your cunt, hands covering your flustered face. You could practically feel how wet you are just by shifting your body and Satoru wastes no more time. Arms back around your thighs to hold them in place, he dives forward to press a sloppy kiss to your slick-covered folds and dragging his long tongue through them, groaning happily as your sweetness already begins to fill his mouth. Tasting the juice always reminds him of the first time he got to taste his stepsister’s pussy and that he refused to turn back ever since. You belong to him now and he’ll eat you out any chance he can get. He’s a lover of it and always leaves you stunned because what kind of man loves to eat a girl out?

Gojo Satoru. That’s the kind of man. Beyond addicted to it as his tongue continues to hungrily lap up your slick and you whimper loudly, hands gripping onto the blanket beneath you as your body already trembles from the pleasure that surges through you, directly from your hot core. “D-Daddy..” You stutter out softly, impatience starting to form as Satoru continues to take his sweet time; just his tongue sliding up and down between your folds, not even touching where you truly want to feel his tongue. Satoru hums, already reading your mind, but doesn’t relent. No one tells him what to do, especially you… Well, when it comes to being between your legs. He’ll happily oblige for anything else.

Time seems to tick by, your taste permanent on his tongue and with one final swipe of his tongue, he finally pushes in a little further. Slick smearing on his cheeks as he buries in, your folds parting for him and he continues to just lick up your mess, though the tip of his tongue now teases your tight entrance, swirling around it. You moan out pleasantly, feeling the sweet daze coming over you and your hand comes down to weakly grip his white hair, pulling. “So fucking good..” Satoru murmurs, voice muffled thanks to being ‘busy’ with his mouth. His tongue teasingly glides up until it meets your throbbing clit and you gasp at the sudden sensation you feel, pulling further on his hair until his scalp aches.

His laugh is soft, pressing sloppy and needy kisses to your clit, eagerly making out with it as if it’s the last day on Earth. You used to be embarrassed by hearing the loud slurping sounds, as it meant you were making too much of a mess, but your stepbrother loved it. It’s a beautiful sound to his ears, aside from your voice. So, naturally, you’ve grown to love it, too. His tongue swirls gracefully around the sensitive nub, teeth occasionally grazing against it to coax more of your whines to leave your lips. You’re dripping so much that it’s already causing stains on the blanket, but you’re too blissed out to care at the moment, just so happy to have his mouth against your hot cunt. Satoru knows he’ll have to calm you down afterwards, though.

His large hands soothingly caress along your thighs that still quiver. You’ve always been sensitive to his touch and it sure does boost his ego and eagerness. Nails graze along the soft flesh and you’re whining as the tip of his tongue repeatedly flicks against your clit, your stomach already feeling hot and tight as the urge to climax grows.

You know that only Satoru has been able to make you come just from his mouth, previous partner would refuse anything sexual asides from blowjobs to benefit him. You briefly remember Satoru snorting obnoxiously when you told him in his bedroom back at the family home and wanting to show you how a lady should be touched. It was the morning after your first time with your stepbrother. The point was definitely proven and addiction grew on both sides.

“Daddy, please—“ You choke out between soft pants and the white-haired male’s tongue drags flat across your clit, looking up at you. “Hold it in.” He orders, voice loving yet rather menacing. A threat. He brings one of his hands down, two long fingers parting your folds as he drags his tongue between to break the strings of slick before his other hand shifts further down until one finger teasingly glides across your entrance and he coos as he watches it clench from the sudden touch.

Cheeks stained with your slick, he presses multiple kisses to your clit, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub to suck on as his finger slowly rubs against your hole before he presses the tip in and slowly pushes the digit in. You whimper as you feel the length of his finger slide in comfortably, velvety walls snug around it. Already, you just want to let go. Especially as he continues to suck on your clit and now the single finger slowly pumping inside of you. You can feel it drag along your inner walls, only to thrust back in, curling slightly to find that sweet spot.

Just as the second finger joins the first to finger you slow and deep, a jolt of pleasure shocks through you when they rub against the sweet spot inside of you and a string of moans just spills out of you, eyes rolling. It feels so fucking good. “Daddy, please... Just let me—“

“No, you’ll come when I say you can, baby.” He says so sweetly despite the harsh words, lips curl to form an open smile as his tongue slides out, saliva mixed with your juices dripping back down onto your cunt. You whine, tears in your eyes when he denies you and your body just feels so tingly and warm. So relaxed and like jelly as he continues to pump the index and middle finger inside of you. Satoru couldn’t get over how your walls squeezed so deliciously around his invading fingers— something he’ll never get used to, truly. It just leaves him excited to have you tonight once the whole ordeal is over.

His cock throbs in his sweats, but he does nothing about it. He did not try to grind against the edge of the bed or even bring his other hand down to relieve himself. This is all about you. His beloved stepsister, who happens to also be his lover. You’ve been uptight for weeks about tonight and he’s always eager to help you relax. Whether through bedroom activities or something else. Satoru presses a loving kiss, a final one to your clit before he scatters kisses, tongue dancing across your inner thighs. Your body is twitching, feeling so hot and desperate to just let go as his fingers continue to slide in and out with ease, thanks to your slick. They continue to abuse that sweet spot and leave you sobbing softly for your release, tears glued to your long lashes.

“Look at you, my pretty crybaby. Not from my cock either.” Satoru mocks lightly, though incredibly endeared by you. The tall male lifts himself until he’s hovering above you, leaning against his elbow at the side of your head. He grinds his long fingers into you and you look up at him, almost blinded by the tears in your eyes. He’s dragging this out for so long and you could barely think anything incoherent. Just drunk off of the pleasure and feeling so hot. “You want to come?” He asks tenderly and you notice how messy his face looks, the bottom half covered in your juices. It just sends a flush of neediness down to your cunt from how pretty he looks, the hair even looking so soft and fluffy. You couldn’t form words between your filthy moans so all you can do is nod, face twisting from the ecstasy you feel. Satoru grins a little, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his voice low and husky. “Go on, stepsister.”

His fingers pick up the pace and you can’t even express the light annoyance you usually feel from him calling that because it’s shameful how easily he can read you. It turns you on. The whole stepsibling thing is so taboo in society, but the pair of you not caring. Fuck, yeah it’s hot that your stepbrother is the best at eating you out and everything else. Hell, even riling you up. He just knows that you find it thrilling to go against the norm and aside from that; you deeply love him for more than that. He isn’t just your sibling that you’re not related to by blood. Not just some stepbrother you met during your teenage years and have to pretend he annoys you like siblings do. Not just some stepbrother you sit next to as ‘Clueless’ plays on the television screen for the last family movie night before moving out and your hand secretly holding his in the dark. Not just some stepbrother who promises your mother that he’ll take care of you in the big scary city. He’s your boyfriend and more. Soulmate, even.

You gasped sharply as his fingers thrust into you rapidly, gliding in and out so quickly. Your inner walls could barely cling onto his fingers, only squeezing around. The pads of his fingers rub against your sweet spot and you’re choking through your sobs of pleasure, arms wrapped around his bigger form to hold onto him, as if afraid you could sink into the mattress. “A-Ah, Daddy— Feels so— Nngh!” You cried out and you could feel it rapidly approaching. He shifts his fingers within you, rubbing the sweet spot still but now his wrist moves up and down rapidly and fuck, you know what he’s going to make your body do for him. “N-No, ah!!”

With a high-pitched cry of ecstasy, Satoru swiftly pulls his fingers out and you are gushing. Sprays of your juices spurt out from your throbbing cunt and your body trembles through the addicting high that continues to crash over you. Your mind is wiped clean and all you can do is hold onto him as your pussy squirts. Your nails dig harshly into his broad shoulders, forehead pressing against him and Satoru holds you through your orgasm, soft praises falling from his lips. His entire attention is on the heavenly sight of the mess you just made. Still making as the last spurts escape and he soaks it all in, not giving a damn that his arm is also dripping with your juices. You’re so going to murder him when reality hits you. He doesn’t care. He knows you like it deep down, even despite future scenarios giving you anxiety.

“Satoru…” You slur out in your sweet daze, your body still feeling so warm and jelly-like. The white-haired male smiles down at you, crystal blue eyes full of love. “Less anxious now?” He teases lightly. You know he cares about your well-being more than you do at times, even if he teases. You feel your walls clenching around nothing, clit throbbing and slowly coming down from the high. You slump against the bed with a content sigh, pulling him down against you and he obliges, eager to get some cuddling in.

Until you realise what’s happening and gasp in shock, pushing him up so you can sit upright, eyes wide in horror as if witnessing the scene of a crime. There’s a damp patch on the edge of the bed and even a mess on the carpet. “Satoru!” You whine, gripping hopelessly onto his shoulder. “We have to clean this up, they’re going to be here soon. Oh my god, why did you have to be— So hot.” You grumble, nudging against his shoulder. Satoru lets out a delighted laugh, slightly amused by your outburst and presses a kiss to your forehead, shifting himself until he’s standing. “Go take a shower, babe. I’ll clean everything up. Don’t worry and just truuuust me. Please?” He quickly adds, lips curling to form an innocent smile.

You easily melt because of his charms and stand up, only to stumble into him from your legs being so weak from the orgasm you just went through. His arms loosely wrap around your waist, gazing down at you as he smirks. “Not even with my cock, mind you.” He sighs and you can’t help but shake your head, lips twitching as you hold back your smile. His cockiness is attractive and you will not admit that to his face. You glance down towards his crotch at the mention of it, noticing how his cock seems to strain against his tracksuit pants. “I’ll take care of it.” Satoru says when he notices where you’re looking, though secretly wishing you would. You couldn’t help but pout, wishing you could just wrap your lips— or even your fingers and help him feel good. There’s no time. You manage to coax your legs into walking in the direction of the bathroom.

“Oh, by the way… Your high school crush is coming tonight, too.”

You pause in front of the bathroom door, hand on the doorknob and turn around to face the white-haired male, feigning an innocent smile. “What?” You ask and watch as Satoru shrugs, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Dear diary, Suguru said hi to me today when he came over to chill with Satoru. I swear I creamed my panties when he smiled at me. I like him soooooo much. Satoru’s best friend is so hot.” He dramatically whines with his voice shifting to a higher pitch and your jaw drops in shock; not from the fact that there’s an extra person coming tonight, but the fact that your stepbrother read your diary in secrecy back when you were both teenagers.

“Satoru, you read my diary!? I never said I creamed my panties!” You squeal with frustration, stumbling towards your boyfriend to repeatedly smack his firm chest, though no actual strength behind it. Not that any of your genuine strength could hurt the older male. Satoru finds himself grinning to the point of his cheeks hurting, laughing at seeing you become so flustered and gently holding onto your wrists, not stopping your punches. “Couldn’t help myself, was curious who my little sister was crushing on at the time— Maybe cause I wanted it to already be me, but sheesh. It was my best friend instead. That would have stroked his ego.” Satoru jokes, arms draping around you and begins to shuffle towards the bathroom.

You huff a little, curled fists against his chest as you look up at him. “Suguru is hot, I’m not going to deny that... Maybe I was already crushing on you deep down but didn’t want to admit it— Either way, why are you only telling me now that Suguru is coming? Now we have to be even more cautious! He may not be our parents, but he’s an extra person and Suguru is seriously… perceptive. We’re doomed, he’s going to find out.” You whine, slumping against Satoru, arms draping by your sides in defeat.

Satoru rolls his eyes and opens the door behind you, gently nudging you into the bathroom. “He’s not that perceptive, relax. Everything will be fine. No one will find out about our love, I promise. Evidence is currently in hiding and we’re not going to make out in front of them. We got this, Y/N. We’re a team.” He says, gently bumping his fist against your forehead and you couldn’t help but smile softly. He’s right. “A team… Okay, well— It will be nice to see Suguru. He’s hot, after all.” You state with a playful smirk before closing the bathroom door in Satoru’s face.

Jealousy briefly surges through Satoru, but he’s able to calm himself down before giving you what you want; him riled up. He just scoffs quietly. “Don’t forget who made you squirt with just his fingers! Enjoy your shower.” He shouts through the door as he hears the sound of water. With a playful shake of his head, Satoru looks down at his crotch as he turns around before the mess on the bed.

“…Cleaning can wait.”

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The gentle chime of the doorbell is heard through the small apartment and dread crashes over you. It’s time. Satoru is next to you, both of you standing just off to the side and out of sight of the peephole. Just in case one of your parents tries to eagerly look through. His hand rests on your waist, giving a gentle squeeze. His eyebrows are knit together to form a slight frown. He just had to help you calm down from crying out of fear and anxiety only an hour ago. “H-How’s my face?” You ask with a pitiful singular laugh as you look up at him. “The most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Are you ready? It’s just for a few hours.” Satoru says, knees bending a little so he can meet you face to face.

You inhale deeply, frantic heartbeats calming down at the sight of your boyfriend’s face. It’s cute when he looks all serious and concerned. You glance around you. “Everything is clean, even the mess from before. There’s nothing they can find, Y/N.” He reassures and the doorbell goes off again. Your mother has always been rather impatient. You smile towards him and nod, reaching for his hand to give a squeeze. You didn’t need to say you’re ready, Satoru can sense it. He presses a loving kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He reminds you and your heart flutters. “I love you, too.” You return softly.

Satoru pulls away, large hands dusting off his front. He’s wearing an outfit that you always want to rip off— Just a simple white shirt that isn’t buttoned up all the way and black slacks. You’re currently wearing one of his favourite dresses on you. You smooth out the creases before you walk ahead of him, taking one final deep breath and a glance at Satoru before you open the door with a wide smile.

Three people stand before you and the lady is already pulling you into a crushing hug. “Y/N, my daughter! I’ve missed you so much. Are you eating enough? School isn’t too stressful? Oh, I just can’t wait to see the place.” Your mother expresses excitedly, moving on to hug Satoru. It may be her stepson but you all get along like a close family. Not being blood-related never mattered. Satoru wraps an arm around her, guiding her inside. “Hey, Mum. Good to see you. Come in.” He says, laughing as you didn’t even get to answer her.

You turn to face your stepfather and smile wide. “Dad! It’s been too long.” You say as you give him a tight hug. He pushes up his glasses before smiling down at you. He’s tall, just like his son. “Your Mother has been quite eager for tonight, let me go calm her down.” He jokes as he enters the apartment to greet Satoru. You look towards the last person, heat rising to your cheeks when you briefly remember what Satoru mentioned before. Geto Suguru is smiling politely, reaching in to embrace you. You don’t have a crush on him anymore, but it doesn’t mean you’ll never be flustered by his beauty. “Hey, Y/N. I hope Satoru hasn’t been too troubling to live with.” Suguru jokes, voice smooth and calming. He’s always spoken rather gently. Especially with you and Satoru.

“He’s an absolute pain sometimes, but he takes care of me as brothers are supposed to.” You say and Satoru scoffs from hearing your words. “She can be a pain too, y’know— Suguru.” He says, pulling the dark-haired male into the typical bro hugs that guys do before actually hugging the male properly. You couldn’t help but smile, happy to see Satoru pleased to see his best friend after so long. You close the door behind you, checking to see everyone’s shoes are already off and neatly in a row in the entryway.

Before they can even pull apart, your mother is already inspecting the lounge area, smiling wide. “Well? Show us around!” She says, hands rubbing together. Your lips quiver from anxiety and Satoru’s hand clasps on your shoulder to give a squeeze. It’s the only way he can touch you in their eyes. Typical sibling touches. “Y/N has been a madwoman with all the cleaning today, wanted it all neat just for you, Mum.” He says and you jab your elbow against his side to play out the sibling retaliation. Your father chuckles as Satoru pretends the elbowing hurt, rubbing his side. “Some things never change, hm? Still brother and sister with some rivalry.” Your stepfather says, following your mother.

You just knew that your mother would want to see every inch of the apartment, though thankfully respectful enough to not open drawers, where evidence such as couple photos are hastily stuffed between clothing. “I must send some photos for you to hang up on the walls, they look so empty.” Your mother says, hand patting the empty hallway. Family photos… Could they pass off as you and Satoru just being a happy couple visiting one set of parents if friends in the city visit? “I think some paintings would also be nice, make us appear like we’re totally art snobs.” Satoru jokes as he opens the door to the guest bedroom— ‘His’ bedroom. The parents peek inside as they laugh at how silly their son is. Suguru thankfully isn’t too bothered to see the apartment compared to seeing his best friend it seems and so he only lingers about in the background.

It’s set up rather neatly to look like Satoru’s bedroom, though the bed appears like it’s slept in with creases and not properly tucked and the laundry basket is filled to the brim with his clothing and items scattered about— You were anxious about it appearing like he lives in it and definitely never sleeps in your room. Satoru is slumped against the wall, arms casually crossed as he watches them look around with excitement. “Satoru, you need to be a bit cleaner. What would you do if you brought a girl home.” Your stepfather jokes lightly and instantly, your heart squeezes with jealousy at the thought of your stepbrother with another woman. He swiftly glances towards you, having to bite back a small grin and shrugs. “Think my charm will be more than enough to make up for it.” He says, brushing against so casually to lead your parents away. Perhaps the excuse could be a tight hallway, but you know it’s him trying to reassure you.

You walk alongside Suguru, who is just shuffling behind your parents who now walk to the bathroom that isn’t attached to the master bedroom. You look up at him, he’s always been incredibly tall. Just like Satoru, except not as tall. He’s grown out his hair even longer than before, only half tied up in a bun. Suguru notices you looking and offers a smile. “You must have been stressed, Y/N. About tonight… Though, I can imagine it’s often chaotic when you just live with Satoru. Are you able to get sleep?” He jokes and the white-haired male overhears, playfully sending a glare and you giggle softly. “Some nights it’s impossible.” You sigh, knowing your stepbrother would pick up the implication and have his ego inflate.

The bathroom is just like ‘Satoru’s’ room, with items looking half used, rather than new and rubbish in the bin. No one uses the bathroom, since you both use the one in the master bedroom. You rub at your eyes, finding it a little exhausting that every inch must be checked, but that’s just parents when it comes to their children living away from them and just how beneficial it is that their children get along fine enough to share an apartment. ‘Ha’, you think. They’d be horrified with the truth. You enter the master bedroom behind them, anxious eyes double-checking that nothing is in sight. You hate it. You want your photos back up and cute couple items you’ve gotten together, like plushies from an arcade or hell, even your sex toys out without a care.

“It’s so nice of you to let Y/N have the bigger room, Satoru. Such a good big brother you are.” Your mother praises, patting him on the cheek before she looks around. His lips curl up to form a smug smile, shrugging. “Gotta take care of little sis.” He says, words dripping with playfulness that only you can pick up. He wraps an arm around Suguru’s shoulder to lead him back out since there isn’t else to see, eager to just catch up with his best friend. Your anxious heart starts to settle down. It’s just the other basic rooms now— dining, kitchen and a study. It seems like you’re both managing to pass the test. Then, only dinner and dessert will remain and they’ll be out of here, maybe around 10 o’clock and you can return to clinging onto Satoru. Knowing you… You’ll probably cry in relief and he’ll pat your head. You sigh quietly. Even just a head pat would be nice and will help you through the night.

Soon enough, your parents do seem satisfied with the apartment that you’ve both chosen to live in and are now settling into their seats at the dining table. Your stepfather at the head of the table, your mother next to him and you next to her. Satoru is across from you, Suguru by his side. Everyone is starting to sit down, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s a lovely little place you’ve chosen, it just needs to look more lived in. Like a home.” Your mother says and you smile, nodding. “We’ve both just been so busy but I guess we can find some things both of us like to decorate… Nothing inappropriate, of course. Right, Satoru?” You ask through clenched teeth as you smile towards him, desperate to keep up the sibling act.

He rolls his eyes and holds his hands up. “No girls in bikinis, I promise. I’m an adult, y’know.” He retaliates lightly and you laugh, rising from your seat. “Please tell me you two don’t bicker all day and do get along.” Your stepfather says lightheartedly, looking towards his wife. “We get along fine,” Satoru replies with ease and you’re internally grateful that he takes charge of the conversation because knowing yourself? You would have screwed up the very second they walked in. You leave the dining room just as your parents start to ask Suguru how he is doing and if he’s taking care of himself, looking behind your shoulder to see Satoru glance towards you with a certain glint in his eyes.

You sigh out softly, thankful to be alone for a moment as you begin to prepare the dinner plates. You decided on a simple roast, far too lazy to do any cooking… well, more like too stressed out. Even if you secretly crave a comforting and warm bowl of ramen. Hell, even just simple miso soup would be nice. You carefully stack the full plates onto the tray and turn around, gasping sharply as you nearly walk into a much taller body— Satoru. “You startled me.” You huff, walking past the white-haired male and he swiftly plucks two plates from the tray to lessen the weight, leaning down to whisper against your ear. “Sorry, babe. Just wanted to check on you.”

His warm breath tickles your ear and his words provide comfort to your heart. Satoru is willing to risk things for even the brief moments and you’re thankful. Even if you do nervously glance at the open doorway of the kitchen. You follow behind him to return to the dining room, smiling when you see your parents laughing along with Suguru. The dark-haired male always got along with your parents and they’d often joke about how Suguru keeps Satoru in line. You place the plates in front of your parents before yours on your placemat, setting the tray aside. “Please help yourself to some garlic bread— I know, I know. Usually goes with pasta and not a roast. I was craving it.” You laugh lightly as you sit back down, next to your mother.

“It looks lovely, dear. Did you do it all by yourself? I hope your brother helped you..” Your mother trails off, eyes narrowing in warning towards Satoru’s direction. You’ve already ripped a piece of garlic bread to nibble on, hiding your smile behind it as you look towards your secret lover who sits across from you. The white-haired male sits up straight, fork dramatically stabbing into a roasted carrot that he bites in half. “Actually, I was in charge of dessert and no, I didn’t just secretly buy it. I’ve been learning to bake.” He grumbles lightheartedly and you smile even further, biting on the bread.

You know the truth. Satoru has indeed been learning; ever since he discovered how much you loved pastries and anything sweet, he picked up the hobby. It was sweet, really. It’s funny how girls in high school claimed that Gojo Satoru would be an immature boyfriend to have and be someone so selfish; just because he’s a bit loud at times and enjoys goofing off from time to time. They never saw what you could see and even now, you get to happily live with your loving boyfriend who takes such good care of you. Your mother’s eyes widen at the news, cutting into her meal before taking small bites. “That’s an excellent hobby, Satoru. Hopefully, Y/N doesn’t inhale it. You have to be careful, Y/N and take care of yourself.” She warns lovingly and you sigh softly, nodding. You know she’s just saying it because she cares, but you’re internally grateful you don’t have to hear it anymore.

“I eat most of it.” Satoru lies with ease as he continues to eat. Suguru snorts lightly beside him, taking a sip of his glass of wine that was prepared earlier. “I can vision that.” The dark-haired male jokes, winking towards you. You snicker quietly, nibbling on the end of a potato that you cut into. Satoru tilts his chair sideways to shove against Suguru lightly and steal a sliced piece of meat off of his plate. “Less dessert for you, Suguru.” He chimes happily, shoving the meat into your mouth.

The five of you continue to peacefully eat as you talk, giving life updates. Whether about work or college. It seems Suguru is thinking of moving into the city and you couldn’t deny your heart being squeezed by your anxiety. It’s not that you don’t like Suguru. You adore him, really. It would just be so difficult to hide what you have with Satoru if someone from your past is here… Still, Satoru would be happy and that’s what you care about. As you cut into your last slice of meat, you accidentally drop your knife against your plate from hearing your mother’s words and your stepfather humming in agreement, eager to hear. “Satoru, have you been trying to find a nice girl to date? You’re in your late twenties now. I’m sure pretty ones just flock to you. You’re our handsome son, after all.” Your mother expresses sweetly, eager to hear some gossip.

Your hands feel clammy. Heart sinking into your stomach at just the mere thought of your… boyfriend finding another girl to date. It would be so much easier. You feel too uneasy, desperate to feel some sort of reassurance from your stepbrother. Your eyes focus heavily on him as your leg slides under the table to bump against his foot. Quietly and in complete secrecy, you shift your foot to caress along his ankle, eyes refusing to look away from him. He’s not looking your way at all, nor looking affected by your touch as he just laughs a bit too naturally at the words, shrugging. “I don’t know, I don’t feel any desperation to find a partner. If it happens, it happens. Don’t try to put pressure on me, Mum. I got a job to focus on.” He jokes, your foot creeping just a bit further up his leg, applying pressure to make him really feel it. You’re utterly oblivious to a different pair of eyes glancing towards you before Satoru as he speaks, all attention focused on your stepbrother.

“Like he could get a girl. His confidence might scare them.” You finally joke as well, feeling defeated that Satoru didn’t even look your way as you teased him under the table, moving your legs to tuck beneath the chair and your shoulders deflate. It was stupid of you to be so risky, Satoru was right to behave like that. Your stepfather chuckles, setting his cutlery down. “What about you, Y/N? Any nice person at university?” He asks gently and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, now having Satoru’s fierce gaze snap towards you and you couldn’t deny how searing it feels. You squeeze your legs together under the table, hands sliding between them and shrugging. “Haven’t been looking, maybe 'cause I believe too strongly in destiny. Time will come.” You laugh sheepishly, leaning back into your chair.

Satoru’s gaze softens on you, briefly thinking of the time back at the old home when you secretly snuck into his bedroom for cuddling and the topic of destiny came up. He couldn’t help but eagerly agree. That’s what it feels like. What you have together is destiny. Satoru stands up as he begins to stack the plates. “I’ll go prepare dessert.” He says, surprised to see both Suguru and his father stand up to help with the dishes. “Let us help you out, son. Y/N, it was really delicious.” Your stepfather praises and Suguru smiles towards you. “Agreed, Satoru must feel lucky to eat his stepsister’s cooking.” He says smoothly and you smile shyly towards him. You shift to talk to your mother as the three men walk into the kitchen.

The white-haired male exhales out softly, setting the plates down near the sink. “Thanks, Dad. Suguru, you as well. You can go relax.” He reassures and Suguru gives a nonchalant shrug, opening the dishwasher. “Might as well lessen the burden.” He says and Satoru’s father nods with eagerness. “Agreed, let me help out.” Satoru’s father says and Satoru laughs, approaching one of the top drawers and opening it. “Not going to deny help, less work for me—“ He pauses, looking down into the drawer and instantly notices a particular kitchen item that should definitely be hidden— or even burned. He slams the drawer shut with a bang and leans against the counter, trying to appear as casual as possible with his toned arms crossing his chest. “Actually, Dad? You travelled quite far, you should go sit down. Suguru and I can do this.” Satoru says, words hastily escaping his lips. His father blinks innocently, oblivious to his son’s behaviour. Suguru is standing behind Satoru’s father, eyes shifting to the top drawer with interest.

“Are you sure? You know I don’t mind—“ Satoru’s father begins and the white-haired male lets out a fake laugh, slightly strained. “I’m sure, besides I need some— bro time with Suguru.” Satoru quickly adds, forcing a smile in his best friend’s direction. His father looks towards Suguru and Suguru smiles wide, eyes shaping into crescents. “Yeah, bro time. I hope that’s okay.” He adds politely and Satoru’s father chuckles, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright.” He says before shuffling out of the kitchen. Satoru sighs deeply, body only relaxing slightly. His hands are still gripping onto the countertop anxiously and he forces out another awkward laugh. “Bro time.. Right, thanks for helping me out with the dishwasher. So— what’s up? Any ladies you’ve been interested in?” Satoru tries to ask casually, his voice strained and his back still against the counter. How the hell is he going to deal with this with Suguru still in the kitchen?

There’s a mischievous glint in Suguru’s eyes as he looks towards the other male, leaning down to slide a plate into the dishwasher, stepping closer to Satoru as he keeps his voice quiet enough so he can’t be heard by the others outside of the kitchen. “Oh, I don’t know. I do think this one girl is interested in me. Might shoot my shot. She’s pretty cute.” Suguru says, tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear that escaped his tied-up bun. Satoru shows interest, eyebrow raising as he steps closer, though one hand still blocks the top drawer. “What? Who? Come on, tell me.” Satoru whispers with excitement, lips curling to form a grin.

“It’s your stepsister. See, just now—“ He pauses, watching the colour drain from his best friend’s face and smirking a little before he feigns a thoughtful expression. “At dinner, I felt someone caressing my leg for a minute or so. Very slow and teasing, y’know? It felt really good to be touched like that. It was Y/N. I could tell…” He trails off and Satoru leans back against the counter, jealousy bubbling up within him. His knuckles begin to turn white from how tight his grip is on the counter. “Yeah? Is that so? My own stepsister, huh?” He asks, his voice tight and even resentful. Suguru steps closer, resting against the counter next to Satoru and leans in, voice laced with playfulness. “Except, she wasn’t even looking at me. Her eyes were just locked on you, refusing to look away.” Suguru explains, hand cupping his chin as he rubs it in thought, noticing a nervous shift in Satoru. How fucking obvious. Satoru lets out a small laugh, avoiding eye contact.

Fuck. So maybe Suguru is perceptive. He’s doomed. Even if the jealousy simmers down, he’s still so fucked. “Maybe she was just shy and didn’t want to look your way..” He lies, though despising the mere idea of it. He must have had his legs tucked under the chair for that one moment and you mistook Suguru’s leg for his own— Fuck, you were also probably seeking reassurance, Satoru realises. He didn’t know. Suguru scoffs, moving to stand in front of Satoru, a hand clasping his best friend’s shoulder to give a squeeze, making sure his voice is still quiet, even soothing so Satoru knows he means no harm. “You and Y/N are secretly dating.”

Satoru’s large hands drag across his face as he hunches forward, forehead briefly resting against Suguru’s shoulder. Fuck. “Suguru, fuck— Listen, I know it’s wrong, okay? I know it’s fucked up. I can’t help it, alright? I’m in love with her, I don’t care if she’s my stepsister.” Satoru tries to explain, words just babbling out nervously as he leans back up to look at Suguru’s face, determination in his eyes. “I love her. She loves me. That’s why we ran away to live here, so we can be— y’know, free. Listen, Suguru… You can’t say anything, please.” He pleads a light tremble of fear in his voice.

Satoru is never scared. This is surprising to Suguru and he holds his hands up to show innocence. “I’m not going to say anything, relax. Your secret is safe with me. You know I only want you happy. Y/N, too. It’s not like you’re blood-related so as your best friend? Easy to look past the whole taboo. Sucks I can’t make my move, though.” Suguru jokes and Satoru glares at him. Suguru snorts. “Jokes, jokes. Relax. Don’t want to be murdered by my own best friend. Still, though. It was rather risky for Y/N to do that. The leg thing. I thought she would know better.” Suguru adds, returning to the dishes and Satoru’s shoulders hunch forward, body deflating with concern. “Was it around the time of me being asked about my dating life? She was probably anxious and just needed comfort... Just wish I could openly give it to her.”

The white-haired male twists his body to look down at the counter, crystal blue eyes shifting towards Suguru. “Don’t even react—“ Satoru threatens before opening the drawer. Instantly, Suguru is hovering to see inside. Directly in the middle of the clutter lays a wooden spoon, black writing across the curved surface of the spoon. ‘Y/N’s spanking spoon, spanked lovingly by Daddy Satoru.’ Little hearts are drawn around it and Suguru has to cover his mouth to muffle his amused snicker. Satoru elbows him before a hand comes up to grip his white hair, desperately trying to think of what to do with it. There’s always that slim chance of his stepmother opening the drawer. He wouldn’t put it past her. “I need to get rid of it,” Satoru says, reaching to grab it.

Suguru snatches it up to inspect it. “Wow, so this spanked your stepsister’s ass, huh? Daddy? Why do you keep it in the kitchen?” The dark-haired male teases and Satoru tries to snatch the wooden spoon up. “It’s a spoon! Since when were you such a brat, give it back.” Satoru huffs, only to raise an eyebrow when Suguru tucks the end into his pants and pulls his oversized sweater over it. “Can’t get rid of something so precious, hm? I’ll go hide it in her bedroom… Well, your bedroom, too. Can I stay over tonight? Just tell your parents that I’ll use the couch if they happen to ask.” Suguru suggests, lips forming a smug grin.

Satoru’s cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment but he pretends to not feel such an emotion and grins, gesturing for Suguru to go. “Thanks, go hide it. Yeah, you can stay… I’ll have to tell Y/N that you know about us. She’s going to be mortified when she realises how you figured it out. Maybe I’ll just fuck the mortification out of her.” He says, moving to the fridge to grab the plate that contains a cake. Just a simple sponge cake, covered in cream. Suguru scrunches his face up. “TMI, Satoru. I may not mind hearing Y/N’s sex life, but definitely not yours.” He teases before swiftly leaving the room to avoid Satoru’s retaliation. His hands are laced ever so casually behind his back as he enters the dining room.

You look towards him, raising an eyebrow as he begins to walk towards the exit. “Just going to quickly use the restroom, if you don’t mind Y/N?” He asks and you nod eagerly, smiling. “Go for it.” You say before turning back to talk to your parents, answering their eager questions about the university. Satoru on the other hand, leans his arms against the fridge for a moment, gazing blankly at the cake. He’s so relieved. Truthfully speaking, Satoru always wished just one other person knew of his secret love affair with you. Someone who also knows that you’re both stepsiblings who happened to grow up with each other during their teenage years. Even further relieved that it’s Suguru, his best friend. Thankful to not be judged or criticised. Just accepted. If Suguru had rejected it, Satoru would have thrown him out of the apartment and refused his parents’ questions. He’s not afraid to admit to himself that he’d choose you over anyone else. If it meant packing up and moving elsewhere for good, he’d do that, too. Where no one could reach. Anything to be with the one he loves.

Heart and mind now feeling at ease, Satoru grabs the plate that holds the cake and carries it into the dining room, dessert plates already set in the middle of the table. You perk up at the sight of Satoru, though try to play it off as if it’s the cake that catches your interest instead. “Oh my! That looks delicious, Satoru!” Your mother praises as Satoru sets it down, grabbing the knife as he neatly begins to cut even slices to dish out, smirking a little. “Naturally, I’m good at everything.” He says lightheartedly and you press your lips together to prevent a smile from appearing. Anyone else would find his cockiness to be obnoxious and yet, it’s just one of the many things you love. Hell, your stepbrother has taught you to be more confident in yourself. You help with the plates, setting them in front of your parents.

Suguru happens to arrive just in time, gripping Satoru’s shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze. The white-haired male relaxes. The ‘spoon job’ is done. Everyone is settled down now and you refuse to even try to touch Satoru under the table, just focusing on taking small bites of the sweet cake. You can’t prevent the soft moan from escaping as you lick the cream off of your lips. Your parents are oblivious to such sounds, but Satoru is looking right at you, fingers tightening around his fork. Suguru has to cover his amused smile, pretending to wipe his mouth.

“Y/N, I hope it’s okay that I stay over tonight? Satoru has already agreed.” Suguru says gently and your heart sinks a little. You like Suguru. Obviously. If it was during high school, you would be running to your room to squeal and jump with joy. Now though… you were hoping to be able to unwind and be free with Satoru. To have all stress gone and to cling to your tall lover. Now you’ll have to keep the act up. You force a polite smile, nodding. “That’s completely okay, Suguru. I’ll set up the couch for you when Mum and Dad leave for the night.”

Your parents gush about the lovely idea for Satoru to have even more time with his best friend, finishing the slice of cake before they relax in the chair. Everyone is finished and not wanting to bother with the mess later, you stand up to collect the last set of dishes. Satoru shifts to move and you hold your hand up. “Don’t worry, I can do it.” You reassure, allowing Satoru some time with your shared parents before they’ll be leaving soon. You love them, really. You just feel exhausted. Hopefully, with time, it will become easier to hide things to the point that it won’t feel like an act. You doubt it. With one arm managing to balance the plates, you use your free hand to grab the leftover cake.

You enter the kitchen to start hastily stacking the plates into the dishwasher, along with the cutlery. You eventually turn it on for a normal wash before you begin to clean the kitchen; wiping over the benches and putting items away back into their original spot. Finally, you slide the cake onto the bottom shelf and close the door. You look towards the time on the microwave and relief washes over you. It’s past 10 o’clock. The dinner seemed to go relatively fast, thankfully.

You return to the dining room to witness everyone starting to stand up and feign disappointment. “Oh no, is it that time? It went too quickly.” You whine, lips naturally pouting. Satoru’s gaze momentarily softens when he looks at you, knowing that you’re relieved; even if you do love family. You follow them through to the lounge and then towards the exit of the apartment. Suguru decides to stay back to give the four of you space. You could hear your mother rambling, not taking in anything she was saying. No offence to her, of course. You’re just a bit tired. There are quick kisses to cheeks and your stepfather is expressing for your mother to hurry up because he doesn’t want to stay up for too long. With final embraces and shoes on, both you and Satoru wave goodbye before closing the door.

You slump against the back of it for a moment, eyes wide and blank as you think back over everything. Every conversation. The tour through the apartment. Your limited affection with Satoru. Nothing… seems to be obvious. The night was a success and even tears of relief glued to your lashes. Satoru’s hand gently rubs your back soothingly, tall body leaning over you as he whispers. “It’s all over, baby. You can relax now—“

You absolutely cannot. Quickly, you move away from his touch and glance nervously towards the lounge room where Suguru is lingering. “Satoru, you know that’s a lie. Keep the act up.” You insist gently, prying his large hand off your shoulder as you move towards the lounge room, lips forcing a polite smile. Satoru follows behind you, trying not to show his amusement. “Right, let me prepare the couch.” You say, turning towards the hallway.

“Actually, Y/N. I think I might use the guestroom if that’s okay. Just so you don’t have to deal with such troubles.” Suguru says lightly and you find yourself frozen on the spot. “You— You mean Satoru’s room? You want to sleep next to Satoru?” You ask, voice straining and laced with jealousy. Only you’re allowed to sleep next to your stepbrother. “No, I mean the guestroom. I assume Satoru will want to sleep with you since you’re both dating.” Suguru finally explains, biting back his laugh that threatens to escape.

Dread crashes down over you and you twist around to face the pair of tall males and Satoru is already laughing, a hand pressing against his toned stomach. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had to wait until our parents were gone—“ The white-haired male begins to explain through a soft chuckle. He feels guilty for laughing at your shock, but he knows that you’ll find the situation to be funny later on. Satoru is quick to wrap you up in his arms, pulling you against his firm body. He isn’t scared to shower you with affection, even if Suguru just discovered the ultimate secret. Suguru smiles slightly, rubbing the back of his neck and you’re just completely baffled, automatically leaning into your boyfriend. “Did you tell him—?” You ask timidly, fingers curling into the front of Satoru’s button-up shirt.

They both shake their heads. “It was my leg that you were touching… Honestly, I was flattered at first, and won’t deny such thoughts. I looked at you, but you were looking at Satoru and refusing to look away. I just put two and two together.” Suguru explains as gently as he can, not wanting you to feel embarrassed. Too bad you’re instantly flooded with the emotion and bury your face into Satoru’s chest, voice muffled. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry… That’s so embarrassing, I-I just... I just gave us away so easily, Satoru.”

Satoru brings a hand up to stroke the back of your hair, ruffling it up a little. “It’s fine, love. Honestly, I’m glad that Suguru knows and just accepted us. You can just be yourself in front of him now, hm?” Satoru says gently, voice deep and soft. Still, you smack his chest lightly as you pull away, pouting. “You always have your legs out under the table, why did you change!” You whine, lips starting to curl as Satoru barks with laughter, head tilting. “We both have long legs and take turns. It’s been like that since school.”

You sigh heavily, pulling yourself out of Satoru’s arms, although already missing the comfort. One of his hands lingers against your waist. Your face feels hot as you look towards Suguru, who as always, smiles towards you. “I’m so sorry that I touched you like that.” You apologise, voice somewhat small. Suguru gives a light shrug, holding his hands up to show he holds no grudges. “You’re fine. I would say I enjoyed it but your boyfriend would cut my head off.” He says rather slyly as he looks towards Satoru.

Already, Satoru’s lips are pressing together and eyebrows creasing in concern as he tugs you back towards him to wrap his arms possessively around you from behind. Butterflies form in your stomach as your hands gently grip his arm that’s wrapped around your neck, giggling softly. “You may be my best friend, but no way. She’s all mine. I’ll fuck her in front of you if I need to.” Satoru bluntly states and you choke on your saliva from the childishness, though desperately trying to ignore how the butterflies seem to flutter wildly before being burnt up by the fire ignited within you. His possessiveness is so hot. “S-Satoru!” You squeak, bumping into his taller form that continues to cling to you.

Suguru pulls a face at the boldness, though curiosity appears in his gaze that lands on you. It was fleeting before he looked towards his best friend instead. “What are you, some alpha?” Suguru snorts, palm rubbing against his eye. Satoru grins, almost like the Cheshire cat as he rocks side to side, chin resting on top of your head. “Might want to wear earplugs tonight, Suguru. You might hear my beloved stepsister cry out from my fat knot.” He retaliates and your hand briefly covers your face, feeling so hot and flushed. It’s almost embarrassing but, his filthy words always arouse you with such ease. You feel your panties becoming damp under your dress. You really want to go to the bedroom now. Too many hours spent stressing and you just really….

You fake a yawn, nuzzling back into Satoru, still wrapped up in his possessive yet rather loving embrace. He feels so warm. “Very funny, yes— Anyways, I think it’s time we all hit the hay…” You trail off, glancing nervously towards Suguru in hopes of him not seeing right through you. He does, but he’s a nice guy. He smiles warmly, grabbing his backpack that he left by the edge of the couch. “I agree, I’m so thankful I won’t have to hear Satoru’s snores at least. Am I able to use the bathroom to freshen up?” He asks and Satoru is too distracted by you to even be offended by the light insult. His hot gaze is only on you. He could see through the lie from the second you faked a yawn and uttered the first word. “Yeah, go for it. I guess we’ll see you in the morning, Suguru… Thanks, by the way. For accepting our secret.” Satoru murmurs, long fingers gently combing through your hair.

Suguru simply nods. “That’s what friends are for, goodnight. Enjoy your sleep.” He says, emphasising the last word before he walks down the hallway. You turn around to look up at Satoru, his crystal blue eyes meeting yours.

You’re both thinking the same thing. -------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, in the comfort of the bedroom that you share with your boyfriend; aka stepbrother, you sigh out in relief, already reaching to unzip your dress. Your soft fingertips meet a set of other fingertips that seem far too eager to unzip. Your tiers curl into a fond smile, bunching your hair up to let it be out of the way as Satoru begins to glide the zipper down, taller body leaning down so his lips can press lovingly against your bare shoulder. He’s trailing kisses gently up towards your neck, warm breath fanning across your smooth skin. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. You did so well tonight. I know it must have been tough.” Satoru whispers, voice sounding raspy. He needs you. Badly.

His praise easily melts you, shimmying out of your dress until it pools around your bare feet. Satoru knows that you’re an absolute sucker for praise and that you often try to chase the wonderful feeling of making him proud. You behave so well for him, no matter the situation and so, Satoru finds himself always proud of you. Still, you’re emotional from having to deal with something so stressful and tears begin to pool, make-up already smearing cause of it. You love your parents, you do. It’s just obvious they can’t know and you hate it so much. You hate that you have to hide your love for your stepbrother.

Satoru isn’t an idiot. Even with your back to him, he can tell that you’re starting to cry and honestly, he’s not surprised. You’ve been so tense for weeks. Ever since it was announced by your parents. You wouldn’t ever relax unless he coaxed you into it or lovingly distracted you. His smile is soft, firm hands on your bare shoulders to move you until you’re facing him. “D-Don’t look at me, I’m getting all gross.” You whine, hand pitifully trying to cover up the fact that black lines from mascara are gliding down your cheeks, mixed with your tears. Small hiccups escape as you try so hard to hide.

“Y/N.” He laughs, completely endeared as his large hands come up to tenderly cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing at the wet make-up, not caring that he’s smearing it further. “Firstly, I’ve seen you cry so many times since we were teens. Not a new sight for me. Secondly, you’ll always be beautiful and take my breath away every single time.” His voice falls into a whisper, unable to stop himself from leaning down to capture your lips with his own, kissing you with passion. You gasp against his lips and he pours all of his love into the one kiss, hands refusing to part from your cheeks as his lips move slow and hungrily against your own. Your fingers curl into his shirt that’s already half unbuttoned, desperate to pull him flush against you as you return the kiss, your tiers moving in sync with his own.

Neither of you part, becoming so breathless and yet refusing to be the first to pull away. His taller body is leaning into you as he continues to kiss you with loving eagerness. His tongue glides across your lower lip and you happily oblige, parting your lips to allow him to take further control as his wet muscle dominates your mouth. Every passionate kiss will always remind you of your first kiss with Satoru. He rubs his tongue against your own before sliding across every inch of your mouth, eager to claim. He can still taste the sweetness of cream lingering and it causes him to groan softly.

Satoru, addicted to kissing you; found it so difficult to pull away. He presses multiple kisses to your saliva-coated lips before he leans back to exhale air. His crystal blue eyes are clouded with complete desire and you look up at him, eyes full of mutual feeling. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly from your cheeks stained with your make-up, though noticing you’re not crying anymore. He’s thankful for that, even if usually the sight of your tears causes a raging hard-on. “Y/N..” Satoru mumbles, hands caressing along your bare sides and admiring your choice of lingerie. Soft pink lace. He realises it’s hard to have a favourite colour on you when you make every colour seem so perfect.

“Go relax on the bed, I’ll be with you in a moment,” Satoru says, pulling away. Instantly, your hand latches onto the back of his shirt, looking up at him with wide eyes. You don’t want him to go for even a second, that’s how clingy you can get and it’s an absolute weakness of his. “Where are you going, Daddy? I want— I want to touch you. Make you feel good, it’s my turn now.” You insist, briefly thinking about when he was between your legs several hours ago. Satoru’s heart squeezes, easily melting from your cuteness and plants a quick kiss on your cheek. “Just listen to Daddy.” Satoru says, prying your hand off of him as he playfully rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to take care of you, you’ll see.” He finishes.

You pout a little, absolutely hating to be away from your stepbrother, but you can’t resist obeying. Especially since he’d easily put you in your place. Even when he’s feeling sweet and wants to make love. You carefully step out of your dress, grabbing it to rest it on the chair at your dressing table. Not wanting to waste time after you noticed he left to go to the bathroom, you climb onto the king-size bed and crawl to the middle, flopping down. Wait— What is that? You feel something solid beneath you and move to tug the blankets down, eyes widening in shock when you see the spanking spoon hiding beneath the covers and take hold of it, face feeling flushed. “Oh— So that’s where he put it.”

You turn around to look at Satoru who is snickering with amusement, a damp cloth in his hand. “He? You don’t mean…” You trail off, suddenly remembering. Suguru asked to use the bathroom before and oh my god, that means he’s seen this. Satoru’s knees rest against the edge of the mattress, reaching forward to take hold of it with his free hand, smirking from witnessing your shocked expression. “We did well with hiding evidence, Y/N. We just forgot the one small thing.” He says, deliberately dragging the round end of the spoon across your thigh, patting it a few times and you’re whimpering softly, muscles tensing up and hands coming down between your thighs.

Satoru is delighted by your reaction. He knows you tend to enjoy pain by his hands, though you both know the difference between pain for fun or punishment. Context matters, after all. Even if you enjoy a good spanking, you hate to be punished because it means you need to be corrected. The spoon is usually used for the latter. He leans forward to press a kiss to your temple, setting the wooden spoon on his bedside table before he tenderly cups your cheek, bringing the damp cloth up to your face and starting to gently wipe the smeared make-up off. “My good girl, I don’t think tonight calls for pain. Even the fun kind. I just want to make love to you.” He hums softly and you smile softly towards him. “I’ll still rile you up, just saying.” You whisper, fingers playfully walking up his toned thigh, approaching his crotch. He looks down at your hand, gulping quietly.

“Every time we do something is making love, in my eyes. Rough or soft. Loving or mean.” You express, hand reaching the area to cup, giving a light squeeze and your palm starts to rub against it. His breath hitches, managing to wipe the last of the mess from your face and smiles knowingly. “Can’t deny that you’re right, beloved stepsister.” He purrs softly, setting the damp cloth down next to the spoon. Even so, Satoru rather craves to just take time and be gentle tonight since you’ve been stressed. Remind you that everything is okay and it’s all over. Does his fingers twitch occasionally with the urge to be rough? Sure. He’s no idiot and knows he enjoys how pretty you look, and how sweet you sound when it is like that, but you’re just as pretty when it’s not played like that. Just always pretty.

He raises an eyebrow when your hand presses against his firm chest and he follows the pressure until he’s lying down on his back, head against the pillows. “You really love to mention the whole step-sibling thing, don’t you?” You laugh, not particularly denying that you enjoy hearing it. His lips curl to form a playful smile, broad shoulders shrugging as his hand comes up, finger slipping beneath the bra strap. “What can I say, taboo turns us both on. Besides, you know I love you beyond that.” He says, voice sounding rather distracted as his crystal blue eyes refuse to look away from your hands.

With the hint that he gave from tugging on your bra strap, you couldn’t help but giggle softly. He’s so obvious. An impatient man who wants the underwear off so he can properly ‘admire’ you as he regularly tells you. You remember your teenage years when you often wondered if Satoru was a ‘boob man’ or an ‘ass man’. You got your answer on day one when you both first fooled around; he loves both equally. A first for a male, in your opinion. You always heard teenage boys obnoxiously state their preferences, but at age 18 and Satoru hitting 20, you realised just how different your stepbrother is. He appreciates the body as a whole and when it comes to you? You often tease him for being a simp with how he worships you and he doesn’t care. Simply because you’re just as much a simp as he is when it comes to worshipping him in return.

Your hands swiftly unclasp your bra, though slowing down as you pull the straps until both arms are out. Satoru’s stare is hot and heavy, fingers twitching against the blankets. You offer a sweet smile before finally discarding the underwear to reveal your breasts rather confidently. You used to be so timid, but Satoru has taught you to love yourself more. He groans, hands coming up to dramatically drag across his face until his mouth is covered and he’s not looking at just your hands anymore, but your breasts. So soft and pretty looking. Even your nipples seem to already harden from being exposed. “Fuck, I’m so lucky. Suguru must be fuming.” He jokes, prompting you to swat at his chest and laugh.

“Stoooop, Suguru doesn’t see what you see.” You say as you gracefully shift yourself until you’re straddling his lap, not wasting time to teasingly rub your ass against his crotch, feigning innocence as you just act out trying to get into a comfortable position by wiggling. Satoru couldn’t even tell you the truth that Suguru expressed interest in you, far too distracted by the friction of the clothing rubbing against his already hardening cock and the pleasant pressure that is your weight. Satoru just lays there, allowing you to do as you please for the moment; feels so good to have you on his lap after all. He manages to exhale a sigh. It sounds strained. “What if Suguru did see you that way?” He asks breathlessly as your hips continue to roll in small circles, body fluid and graceful. Your hands come down to unbutton the rest of his shirt, noticing the spike of jealousy within the white-haired male. You start to feel giddy again.

“He’s handsome, I had a crush well before you.” You begin and Satoru rolls his eyes and looks off to the side, large hands cupping your bare thighs to give a rough squeeze. A warning. He loves the guy. It’s just that you belong to him and no one is ever going to take you away from him. You grin, utterly endeared by the jealousy and lean down as your hands spread the open shirt, your breasts pressing directly against his naked chest, a hand caressing soothingly along his side. “But I’m not interested in him anymore. My eyes only see Daddy. You’re so hot when you get all jealous.” You whisper, lips hovering over his.

Fuck, he can feel your soft, squishy breasts pressing against him and he only wants more. His strong arms wrap around your waist to keep you flushed against him, nose rubbing against yours. “Prove it to Daddy. Show Daddy how much you love him, stepsis.” He whispers in return and your lips already hungrily press against his, muffling your whines. You waste no time, eager for more and so your lips begin to travel towards his jawline, nipping at the flesh. You’ve been uptight for far too long and finally get to let it all out and relax with your lover, Satoru. Some may think it’s crazy to call passionate sex as relaxing but honestly, that’s what it feels like to you. It can be both thrilling and calm. Calm in the sense that you can just let go and feel good, especially afterwards. Satoru, your amazing partner (stepbrother) may have eaten you out this morning and even made you squirt, but you still felt a bit too stressed cause tonight wasn’t over. Thank goodness it is now.

“Gon’ mark you, Daddy. Can do that now. Girls at work will know to back off— Boys, too.” You grumble lightly, tongue sliding out to teasingly dance across his warm skin and Satoru laughs breathlessly, his hands reaching down to cup your ass cheeks and give a rough squeeze. “Possessive little thing.” He coos, breath hitching as you bite down on the side of his neck to suck harshly and you couldn’t help but moan happily, so delighted to be able to mark him up now. You pull away momentarily to admire the dark purplish bruise that formed, pressing an innocent kiss to it before you move in to form another. And another.

His neck is scattered the various hickeys, also varying in different shades depending on how harshly you went. His cock is throbbing beneath you, pleased by the aching pain he felt during the process. His large hands continue to fondle your ass, squeezing hard to the point of feeling your supple flesh filling up the gaps of his long fingers and it entices him to the point of spanking your ass roughly. You yelp from the jolt of pain that soon forms into a nice tingly feeling in your ass and he gives another spank, nails dragging across the flesh. “Thought you weren’t going to be rough, Daddy.” You tease, wet tongue trailing saliva down his chest. “Your ass is impossible to resist. Your needy cries, too.” He breathes out softly, stopping you from going any further down by tightening his grip.

“Stay still, baby.” He whispers against the top of your head, voice heavy with lust. You lay against him, not daring to disobey anything he commands. You love to please him. As you nuzzle against his hickey-covered neck, you whimper from each hard smack that lands on your ass, feeling the spanks alternate from cheek to cheek. Smack! Your body jerks up against his body as he lands a hard spank, causing you to sob out quietly. The stinging pain feels so good, causing you to crave more. Smack! Harder this time. “Were you really trying to touch me under the table tonight? Maybe you’re just a bit of a slut who wanted to get a reaction out of Suguru. Such a naughty girl.” He teases and you frantically shake your head, hands clinging onto his broad shoulders and breasts squishing against his chest once more. He knows that’s not the case. You’re just so cute to tease and naturally, you’re just so naughty that humiliation drives you further. More eager. He doesn’t relent with the hard smacks until you’re sniffling against his neck and his hand feels far too numb, unable to feel a thing.

“Mm, good girl. That’s enough, I promise.” He says, hands giving your now throbbing ass cheeks a soothing squeeze. You pull away with a small huff and lips naturally pouting, eyes appearing wet. “Can I please just touch you now?” You plead, wanting to focus on him from the beginning. Satoru grins wide, eyes lighting up with excitement as his arms rise until his hands rest ever so casually behind his head. “I can’t resist touching your gorgeous body— smacking it, too.” He pauses, looking at you. Is he too sadistic? He couldn’t help but question. The question is swiftly answered by a reassuring kiss on his lips. You’re masochistic and so you both make a great pair. “Touch me, baby.” Satoru whines out dramatically, snapping you back to reality.

You bite back a smile from how cute he can be, leaning down to press loving kisses along his well-defined abdomen, tongue dragging along the toned lines, nails grazing along his sides. Satoru’s lips latch onto his lower lip as he watches you, crystal blue eyes darkening as he enjoys the slow yet steady show. You’re able to wiggle down now, his hands not stopping you and you pull up for a moment, hovering as eager hands unzip his black slacks and you hook your fingers beneath both the pants and underwear. “Let’s get the annoying stuff out of the way first, shall we?” You hum and Satoru happily obliges by lifting his hips.

With three rough tugs, you drag the clothing down his long legs until you could toss them to the floor, jaw dropping slightly at the beautiful sight of his now free and throbbing cock springing out of the confinements and slapping against his own lower stomach. Never. Never will you get used to the glorious sight of it. So long, curved and has just the right amount of thickness that leaves you for craving it. The pretty protruding veins from the base, up towards the bulbous tip, red and eager for a hand— or mouth. You smile a little, pleased to see it twitch before you. Satoru inhales deeply, half-lidded eyes focusing on you, rather than his cock. You love his cock. A blunt thought to have, but you do. “Babe..” He warns quietly.

You snap back out of your cock thirsty fantasies and drop your body down between his legs, laying comfortably. Satoru was right about buying an oversized bed, it makes the fun hassle-free. “Daddy, you’re so pretty..” You whine, leaning forward to nuzzle your face lovingly against his cock and already, one of his hands behind his head comes around to drag across his face, wondering how he’ll be able to control himself as you take your time enjoying him. Each praise you give to him; whether about his dick or his personality, always inflates his confidence and self-love. He’s peeking between two of his fingers, watching as you continue your loving nuzzle with ‘innocent’ kisses being pressed to his throbbing length.

You smile up at him, long lashes fluttering as you hold your hand out just beneath your chin, keeping your gaze on your stepbrother as your tongue slides you and you allow the drool to slowly seep out of your mouth and drip from your tongue. The saliva pools in your palm and Satoru groans in sexual frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re such a slut.” He says lovingly, breath hitching when your fingers finally curl around the thick base of his cock and begin to stroke slowly. Your saliva isn’t the ‘best’ lubricant in the world, but it’s enough to keep your hand from feeling too rough as you slide your hand up and down, wrist twisting with each pump.

“I just love it so much, Daddy. So warm and heavy in my hand. All mine to play with.” You purr, tongue dragging along the length of his cock where your fingertips couldn’t quite meet. You find yourself resting your head against his thigh, eyes focused entirely on his cock as it throbs in your hold as you continue to stroke his length with just so much love. It’s nice to just lay there and admire. Even if his thigh quivers slightly beneath your head and his stomach muscles tense up, trying his hardest to not rush you. How cute. You occasionally dribble out and spit onto your hand to continue with the slow strokes of your hand, enjoying the weight of his heavy cock, thumb rubbing the tip every time your hand slides upwards. You smile from hearing his heavy breathing and voice hitching every so often as your hand squeezes the thickness.

You notice pre-cum starting to bead at the bulbous tip and so you lean forward, hand wet with your saliva sliding down to fondle with his balls, giving a tender squeeze. “Fucking hell, Y/N…” He moans out, long fingers dragging through his white hair to grip on. You mewl softly in response, always loving how your stepbrother curses with your name. It always sounds so sweet. The flat of your tongue presses against the underside at the base before you slowly drag upwards, tracing along one of his veins and tasting the saltiness. Your eyes met his just as you brushed the wet muscle along the tip and moaned in sync with his low ones as you tasted the pre-cum.

“You’re so delicious, wan’ taste you every day.” You express your wish as your tongue playfully swirls around the head of his cock, one hand soothingly stroking his toned thigh as the other continues to fondle and squeeze his balls with just so much love for the older male. “I’ll make you taste me every day, even if it means choking you with my dick, princess.” He sighs heavily, enjoying the slick velvety feeling of your tongue sliding around the leaking tip of his length. You hum in response, his harsh words only fueling your actions and drenching your panties further. You do always feel like some omega in heat around your stepbrother. Unaware of it, you roll your hips against the bed, focusing entirely on Satoru and making him feel good. Nails scrape along his thigh as your hand trails up towards his abdomen, eager to feel him.

It was several minutes of just your tongue swirling and lapping up the pre-cum and you finally wrap your soft lips around the head and suck gently, cheeks hollowing as you begin to bob your mouth nice and slow along the first two inches or so, just savouring the taste of him and length weighing down against your tongue, twitching in your mouth. Your soft moans send vibrations along his lengths and Satoru’s hips buck upwards, causing your mouth to take just a bit extra. To prevent yourself from choking, you keep your jaw slack, bobbing your mouth steadily now, eyes refusing to look away as the white-haired male’s face scrunches up; brows furrowing and lips parting as he grunts out your name.

Your mouth feels good. Too good, even. So warm and wet, inner cheeks rubbing along the sides of his length as your tongue caresses the underside. He notices drool seeping out from the corners of your lips and a breathless laugh escapes. His hand coming to stroke along the top of your head, voice low. “So damn cute, stepsis. Drooling and looking so depraved.” He says as he teasingly pulls on your hair until your scalp aches and you whimper softly. With your jaw relaxed you take more of his delicious length into your mouth to savour on, swallowing around it to tighten your mouth and prompt him to grunt, hips bucking slightly once more from the pleasant tightness of your mouth.

Satoru, being the greedy guy that he is; cups the side of your head, close enough for his fingers to lace together behind your head. You sense what’s to come, knowing your stepbrother very well and whine softly, eyes closing tightly. Instantly, he grinds his cock into your mouth, forcing you to take more and more until your lips are stretched right around the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Your loud gags are muffled as his hips thrust roughly, his hands moving your head with ease to meet each movement of his hips, forcing you to take it all.

You’ll never deny the fact that you love him taking complete control and fucking your mouth as he pleases. Slow and deep. Fast and rough. All of it. You’ll take it all cause you’re just as greedy as him. Perfect for each other. His throbbing cock slides down your throat and you swallow helplessly to try and contain yourself from choking too much. You have to rely on breathing heavily through your nose, but even that feels near impossible when he presses on the back of your head firmly so your face is pressed into his lower stomach, nose buried against a neatly shaved area. Saliva smears across your face as he continues to move your head as he pleases, head tilting back as he groans out happily, addicted to the pleasure that surges through him from having your mouth around his cock, nice and snug.

“So— fucking good.” Satoru pants out as your lips drag along his saliva-coated length. He can hear you breathing frantically through your nose and so being the sadistic stepbrother that he is; Satoru yanks your head back down along his cock, leaning up so he can hug your head properly, locking you in place. Your hands weakly grip the blankets, throat tightening around his thickness that pulsates and you try to breathe, but you can’t. Satoru is lovingly suffocating you. Choking you with his length stuffed down your throat and arms embracing your head against him so you can’t move. It sends excitement right down to your core, whimpers muffled as you simply stay there, your head starting to feel light. Satoru is delighted and wrapped up in the pleasure.

“Aw, look at you. My baby sis choking on my cock and enjoying every bit of it. Such a whore for me, aren’t you? Only for me.” He pants heavily, eyes half-lidded as he looks down at the top of your head. His long legs are bending so he’s able to properly hold onto you, feeling your throat muscles hopelessly constrict around his length. Tears burn and nails claw at the blankets, feeling your head starting to pound from the lack of oxygen. Snot threatens to smear on Satoru as you pitifully try to breathe through your nose that’s pressed too tightly against him and it only makes him laugh, endeared by you struggling so desperately. The urge to climax reaches quickly, his stomach clenching and feeling so hot.

Finally, he lets go, fingers wrapping around your hair to guide your head back, lips dragging along his cock until there’s an audible pop, a sharp gasp following afterwards as you’re desperate for air. You feel all woozy and high for a moment as oxygen rushes back to your brain, your heart hammering hard in your chest. Satoru smirks, only being further aroused from how fucked out you already seem to be just from a bit of face-fucking and… well, choking, too. You cough a little, unable to stop the dry-heaving; Satory is relentless when it comes to blowjobs and you thrive off of it. Multiple strings of saliva attach your swollen lips to his cock, breaking when you pull back further and whine, voice raspy. “I lo- agh.. I love your— cock, so much, Daddy.” You manage to splutter out between deep breaths.

Satoru coos, only being reminded of how deeply he loves you, his stepsister. His hands tenderly cup your warm cheeks to pull you in between his legs, feeling your hands resting against his chest. “And I love you on my cock, so much. Whatever hole, I love your holes. I love you.” He whispers, pressing multiple kisses to your lips, deliberately lingering with each kiss despite you still trying to inhale deeply. A little struggle is so cute. His cock still throbs, leaking with pre-cum and your hand travels down between your bodies to wrap your fingers around once more to stroke, biting back a small grin.

“I love you, too.” You sigh happily, watching the way his brows furrow in concentration as your hand strokes so slowly. You both tend to confess your feelings to one another multiple times a day. Never annoying. It’s just like breathing. It feels normal. “Daddy took such good care of me for the past few weeks, especially today. So…” You trail off quietly, letting go of his cock and playfully smearing the saliva across his chiselled abs. It might have just been an excuse to touch them. Satoru slowly lowers himself until he’s lying back down, his heart racing with excitement. He hopes it is what he thinks it is.

You move until you’re sitting comfortably against his cock once more, angling yourself so your slick-covered folds spread across the underside of his length, one hand coming down to tease the bulbous tip as you grind slowly, sliding your dripping cunt along his throbbing erection and he hides his sounds of pleasure by laughing breathlessly. “Don’t wanna use one of my many monstrous-sized condoms?” He asks, voice dripping with playfulness. You haven’t used condoms since basically day two of being together, you went on the pill after the first night of making love. Never missing a day of it. Naturally, the pile of condoms stay like that; as a pile of condoms. Completely forgotten.

“Your stepsis loves being pumped full of her Daddy’s delicious cum.” You tease, noticing the way his eyes glaze over from mentioning the relationship you both keep buried. Both of you are so sinful and some would say have no morals. Neither of you cares. It’s fun to play around with the taboo. It’s even better that Satoru has such a huge Daddy kink. He loves being both for you. As well as your loving boyfriend. “Ah— Is your cock twitching from the reminder of what we are? You’re so naughty.” You mewl sweetly, your clit throbbing from the contact as it rubs along Satoru’s cock, sending tiny jolts of pleasure through your body.

His large hands grip onto your hips, teeth clenching. Satoru is getting impatient, even if it’s so cute seeing you grind against his cock like some bitch in heat. “Babe—“ He grunts out and you only smile, hands spread across his firm pecs as you grind, sliding from the base to the very tip. Finally, you decide to give him what he really wants; what you both want. One hand takes hold of his cock at the base, moving yourself until the leaking tip presses against your entrance.

You begin to lower yourself, breath hitching when the tip of his length pushes past the entrance of your tight hole. “Let me take care of you, Da-ah~.” Your words break apart as a needy moan escapes, sinking further. Your tight walls are forced to stretch right around the thickness of his cock as you continue to sink, face scrunching up as you whimper from the pain mixed with pleasure. It feels so good to be stretched out by his pretty cock. So long and thick, twitching inside of you. Out of instinct, you squeeze around his length and Satoru groans out from finally feeling your absolute tightness around his length. It feels so fucking good to him; to have his cock buried deep in your needy cunt, the warm velvety walls clinging onto him.

You don’t stop until you’re filled up and your ass meets his thighs beneath you. It was a bit of a struggle since he didn’t usually prepare you like usual— You were desperate to just have him inside of you, besides he already spoiled you this morning with his fingers and tongue. There was just a bit of a delay. You pant heavily, hands light on his abdomen as you try to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, always feeling like your beloved stepbrother stretches you out beyond what your pussy is made to take and yet, you always manage. You’re made for him. “Fucking tight..” He breathes out heavily, hand soothingly stroking your thigh.

“My perfect girl, looking so pretty when you’re stuffed with your stepbrother’s cock. Look at you— Always bulging, thanks to me.” He purrs out, the other hand coming up to brush against your lower stomach, teasingly pressing against it where the end of his length is able to make you bulge out slightly and you whimper from the pressure being applied, nails clawing into his warm flesh. “Daddy~.” You mewl softly, lips threatening to drool out saliva as you couldn’t even focus on keeping any part of yourself together. The painful ache of your walls seems to slowly subside, though lingering and you begin to roll your hips.

Your aroused juices just drip out, making a mess across your thighs and his. Not that either of you care. The mess just enhances the excitement. Your eyes are clouded with pleasure mixed with complete love for the white-haired male beneath you and for a moment, neither of you look away from each other; eyes locked. You rock back and forth, inner walls clinging onto his cock as you move, just for a few of the inches. You moan out happily, eagerly taking the pleasure that washes over you with each grind of your hips. “So pretty, so so pretty..” Satoru whispers, one hand gliding up until he cups one of your breasts to give a playful squeeze, coaxing a spill of needy whines out of you. He pinches the hardened bud, twisting it and you cry out, always being so sensitive to any touch he blesses you with.

He grins, eyes wide and alive as he watches you with deep fascination and feeling even more aroused as you begin to bounce. It’s slow and steady, hard enough for skin to slap against skin and leave the flesh tingling. Your breasts follow your bouncing as you move, your velvety walls squishing around his cock and both leaving you breathless for two different reasons. Your walls just squeeze so tightly and drag along every inch of his length. You swear you’re so tight that you can even feel the protruding veins that run along his cock. Thank god for no condom, you couldn’t help but think; thrilled to have him bare inside of you.

“So— Big!” You cry out, lifting yourself up to feel his thickness drag along your walls before you drop yourself back down, trembling from the pleasure that constantly wraps around you as you bounce on his cock. Your feet are flat against the mattress as you move, so desperate to slide up until only his tip is inside of you and then slam back down until he forcefully stretches you out. Your sounds of pleasure only increase in volume, with cute yelps and needy moans leaving your lips. Satoru is in absolute heaven to be able to witness the sight of you bouncing on his cock, hand occasionally slapping your tits to encourage you to go further, panting heavily. Your inner walls, no matter how aroused and wet you are; continue to cling so tightly around his length as you fuck yourself onto his erection.

His brows are furrowed in concentration as he focuses on the pleasure that surges through him, leaving his toes curling and panting heavily as his mouth hangs open. “So fucking good for me, baby. Fuck— You look so hot, feel so hot.” He groans, your wet cunt especially feeling warm as it clenches around him. His hands land on your hips to give a harsh squeeze and you whimper, tears in your eyes. It all just feels like too much already but in a good way. A way that you never want it to stop, you just want to grind your hips and ride his cock like the addicted whore you are for his length.

There’s a manic glint in those crystal blue eyes and Satoru slams his hips up, forcing his throbbing length in until balls deep and you scream out his name in ecstasy, hands weakly pressing against his chest. “A-Ah, ‘Toru! Daddy, feels so—“ Your words are cut off by your sob as he starts jackhammering into your tight pussy, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air and obnoxious squelches from how wet you are. You didn’t care— Couldn’t care for anything asides from how you’re made for your beloved stepbrother and his cock hammering inside of you. His eyes focus on your dripping cunt, watching with deep fascination as his length rapidly appears and disappears.

The ecstasy continues to surge through you in pulses, each time his length slams up into your tightness, your stomach bulging a little from how deep his long cock goes. He’s taken control entirely and all you can do is sit there— hovering as his fierce grip holds you in place and thighs shaking. Tears spill down your cheeks as you continue to sob out for him. “Daddy! Daddy, ah— fuck!” You wail out happily, eyes rolling upwards as you stare at the ceiling. Your mind feels completely wiped, all thanks to his length that drills into your tightness, cock dripping with your juices and Satoru just feels delirious from it all, especially as your inner walls flutter around his length and clench. He’s grunting with each snap of his hips, nails digging into your hips.

Both of you feel it rapidly approaching as he keeps up the pace. Your breasts even start to ache from the constant bouncing. Blindly, your hands find his to desperately hold onto and ground yourself, gazing down at him with eyes completely clouded over. “You’re so beautiful, baby. All mine, too. Got it? No one will take you away from— fuck, me.” He groans, voice low and breathless. You nod eagerly to his words, tightening your fingers on his hands. “Pl-Please, I wan’ cum, please, Daddy. It feels so— nnn..” You choke on a needy sob, face scrunching up.

You appear so utterly fucked and Satoru finds it beautiful, wishing he could burn the image of your face when you’re stuffed full of his cock into his mind. He tugs you down by your hands until your body is pressed flushed against his own, letting go of your hands to hug around your waist and trapping you against him. “I’m going to come inside of you~. Even if you don’t want it, you won’t stop me.” He purrs against your ear and you whimper softly. You want him to pump you full every time. He pulls his hips back until only the tip is in, lips brushing against your jawline. “Let go, stepsis.” Satoru whispers before he slams back into your tight core, groaning as he can never get used to your soft squishy walls clinging onto his cock.

You cry out from the sudden rough thrust and he continues. Thrust, after thrust. The final one, his cock sliding into you and you completely let go as he told you to. Your body trembles hard against his own, face scrunching up and your eyes closing tightly despite the tears of pleasure they spill and you bite down hard on his shoulder to try and muffle the sounds. His long fingers wrap around your hair to tug back gently, pulling your mouth off of him. “Don’t silen— fuck..” He grunts out as your walls repeatedly squeeze around him and his orgasm rapidly approached until he’s coming inside of you, his cock throbbing hard as strings of sticky white cum pumps inside of you. Satoru has always had a large amount to spill and so you feel so full as he spills it all inside of you, barely moving his cock. He’s panting heavily as your filthy cries continue to escape your swollen lips, clinging onto his body so desperately as if you’re afraid you’ll fall if you don’t.

The high is beyond everything else, like usual when it’s with Satoru. All you can see are stars. Mind blank and lips parted, your clit pulsing through the orgasm. Your body still trembles and despite feeling his own perfect high from the love-making, Satoru’s hand soothingly rubs along your back, head refusing to leave the pillow. “Ah…” You exhale out, finally feeling your body calming down. Eventually, you start to giggle softly, elated from just having sex with your stepbrother. Satoru smiles faintly, amused by the giggles and keeps his strong arms wrapped around you.

“What are you so giggly about?” He asks, voice raspy. You shake your head and snuggle against the side of his neck, refusing to move. “Just got a good reward, that’s all.” You joke lightly and Satoru snorts, knowing full well that he would have been intimate with you - whether tonight went right or wrong. “My good girl.” He praises sweetly, voice laced with playfulness. You tilt your head to look up at him, eyes full of complete love. He shifts his head a little, crystal blue eyes meeting yours. Your hand comes up to brush strands of white hair out of his eyes.

“I refuse to pull out, by the way. Give me some cock-warming.” He demands lightly, lips naturally pouting. You grin a little and press a kiss to his lips. Multiple times. “You know how much I love to cock-warm you, stepbrother.” You purr, resting back against him. Satoru couldn’t deny it. It feels good, having his cock just surrounded by this lovely warmth and slick-covered walls clinging onto him. He knows he’ll have to pull out eventually so you both can clean up but… just for a bit, he’ll enjoy this. Satoru loves it when you lay on top of him, your weight against him offering him comfort.

“I love you, Y/N. I really am proud of you. I know it was stressful and it probably looked like it didn’t faze me at all, but it did. I’m relieved we both got through it all.” Satoru says, thumbs gently caressing your bare back. You smile softly. Of course, he was stressed out, too. Satoru just kept himself together through the stress so that you could rely on him. Your stepbrother… really is so wonderful. Best step-sibling you could ask for and especially the best lover. “I love you, too. Proud of you, too. You know that, right? Always proud.” You respond, nuzzling into him. There’s a brief pause between you both before you remember something. “I hope Suguru couldn’t hear us..” You mumble, cheeks feeling hot.

“I doubt he could hear me, but he definitely heard you. You’re fucking loud, babe.” He jokes and you gasp, lightly smacking his shoulder. “I am not!” You whine and Satoru only chuckles, tightening his hold. “You are, but you’re my loud girl. All mine.” He huffs, biting your bare shoulder. You roll your eyes playfully, but smile and rest your head against his shoulder once more.

Whatever.

You’re happy to be loud when it comes to your stepbrother.

2K notes · View notes

wandagcre · 2 years ago

Text

drive you mad (part 2) | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You had enough of your complicated relationship with Sam. You’re trying out new coping mechanisms to move on, but sadly, even going on a date with another person didn’t make things better. However, your best friend had too many tricks under her sleeve, willing to try them all to have you again.

WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, fluff, some of sam's daddy issues, possessive sex, strap-on, subdrop, jealous sam, breeding kink, blow job, dubcon(?), humiliation, fake cum, praise, edging, implied size difference, mentions of violence and stalking, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship, just a lot of reader and sam fucking like rabbits omg, not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 18k+ Note: BEAR WITH ME. I am aware of how much of a lengthy (wink wink) last part this is but I swear things are looking good ;) hope everyone enjoys it!

[ LAST PART of TWO | Previous ]

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

Apparently, the worst thing that can happen is that your date for tonight shares few similarities with Sam.

You try to be humoured with how it started with your same friend again, it’s like she simply knew what your type was. Your date's name was Lucy and while she didn’t possess the tanned skin that you loved; she was still taller than you, her mother tongue happens to also be Spanish, and she also had an attractive set of thick eyebrows.

The resemblance in terms of characteristics was uncanny.

At first it felt foreign to you to dive into an established romantic date after a while. Besides the comparisons that your brain kept making, you were also unsure if any of the ones with Sam actually counts.

Nonetheless, it's been so long since you’ve been into one, you feel like a newborn learning to walk.

To Lucy’s credit, it was an enjoyable experience. She was considerate of your taste, threw you compliments that weren't only out of politeness, and preferred that the two of you decide which place you’ll be more comfortable in. Lucy was specific and admittedly it helped, because you had the tendency to be indecisive. She was chatty and at times it was comical with how she told you little stories that genuinely made you laugh as you dined in an Italian restaurant.

Lucy also took you to an arcade that recently opened. It was creating quite a buzz around, based on how you constantly see teenagers flock enthusiastically in the area.

Surrounded with glowing lights and bold, colorful neon signs, packed with a variety of games you haven't even seen before. The place was indeed inviting for you to let loose.

“This is cliché. But in a good way. I haven’t been in a place like this for a while now,” you look up to your date who had an unwavering smile.

“See! Clichés can be good! Opens the forgotten memory you once enjoyed.” Lucy beamed at you. “What’s your favorite game to play? I’d have to say I’m great at these things, so we’re totally going to win something by the end!”

“Even the claw machines?” You jab playfully at Lucy's confidence. “Aren't they always rigged? I believe just the same since I never won anything from those things.”

“Can't argue with that. Sometimes it's all about the timing and well, other times, all rigged business as you say. Lucky for you, I happen to be good at this stuff!" Lucy stretched her hands outward, comically, cracking her neck muscles as well.

You can’t help but snort at the sight. Nerves were slightly put into ease, because tonight was going well. She won you a dolphin stuffed toy and she definitely hard carried the gunning zombie game of two players, where Lucy amusingly acted out as though she was in real despair with your character constantly dying. You had a great time.

Even if Sam continued to ebb in your mind.

“Lucy, thanks for tonight.” She opened the car door for you and you exhaled with relief because you did enjoy her company. “I had a lot of fun, even if I kept dying on those two player games.”

She leaned on her car, Lucy’s look remained at you. “I did too. I was happy to be accompanied by a beautiful date. Totally worth the coins! But do know that I don’t mind if we do this again…” she extended her hand to yours, silently asking for permission if you’d let her hold you, which you accepted. “And I also won’t mind if you say no. I’ll be a bit bummed, sure, but I can handle it.”

You sense Lucy's nervousness as she fiddles with your hands, head looking down while sporting an upturned mouth. You’re still wearing the jean jacket she lent you from earlier, and insisted that you needed it more because she can handle the cold breeze better.

You loathed to think that maybe, if a specific woman didn’t occupy your mind and body this much—maybe—you’d get a better shot with the lovely woman right in front of you.

“I appreciate how you’ve been so good to me all night,” you tighten your hold, it was softer than what you were looking for. Unaccustomed to the calloused hands you have grown to love over the past few months.

“I sense that there’s a but…”

Then all of a sudden, your phone rings.

It was the devil herself.

Sam.

Retrieving your phone from your purse, you stared at the screen for a few seconds. Not even debating if you should answer, simply frozen that Sam is calling you. She wasn’t the caller type, knowing that she liked to give head's up before anything. So you thought it must’ve been an emergency if she was this insistent.

Worry filled you. Yet, you don't trust yourself to answer right away, knowing you were bound to embarrass yourself or worse; be easily pulled in by Sam's sweet nothings. She was your weak spot, your ability to say no vanishes with ease.

Taking a peek at your notifications, it only shocked you, seeing that Sam was bombarding you the whole evening. They were sweet first, her usual cheery self, until they got cold for some reason. You stifle an uneasy grimace—hating how this was confusing you to no end.

Pocketing the phone back, you had no energy for this tonight. There’s no escaping this situation or this woman, really. Why did you think it was a good idea in the first place? You decide on calling Sam the next day to get things over with.

“Are you okay? I don’t mind if you’re going to answer that,” Lucy asks with a comforting smile, gesturing at your phone that rang for the second time.

You shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

The ringing eventually stopped.

“No. Uh, where was I?” You clear your throat. She looks at you expectantly. “Again, Lucy, it’s been nice. But I think for now all I can handle is… friendship.” you answer in a heartbeat and for a moment, your date was crestfallen at your answer. “But you’re right, you know. Cliches can be nice. I never thought I actually needed this.” It was genuine; not a mere attempt of cheering her up. You didn’t realize until now how you needed to unwind in a way that wasn’t discrete nor foreign.

After a few beats of silence, the woman nodded, perhaps she has accepted her fate for tonight. Lucy bounced back to her unaffected and cheery disposition. Before parting ways, she surprisingly left a soft kiss on your cheek, almost at the corner of your lips.

“I’m content with the fact that I managed to change your mind over one thing.” Lucy quips and shoots you a playful wink.

You were still blushing at the sudden action but you didn't quip at it, giving back her jacket. “Thank you really. For keeping me warm and making this night wonderful.” Lucy says and waves goodbye one last time to you with a toothy smile on her face.

Standing from the pavement in front of your apartment, your eyes follow your date’s car as it drives farther away from you. Still stunned and occupied with your own thoughts, you pay no mind to the roaring engine in the streets, at this late hour—thinking it was one of the many overbearing and supercilious owners that likes to boast of their possession.

You rolled your eyes internally, and immediately headed to your apartment. Reaching your room, maybe the only thing you've cleaned up was your hands. Nothing had felt good for the past few days—work was demanding. Sam kept blowing up your phone, but she didn't make any move to come and see you and that bothered you still.

Even if this date was the most normal you've felt tonight, the exhaustion easily took over your body.

The paranoia comes in waves, surprising you every now and then. Because sometimes, you felt as though eyes were on you.

Mind drifting to Sam again, you wonder what could she be up to these days. What could’ve been the reason for her to call you out of nowhere. Has she missed you this much? Your heart flutters at the thought.

Was it a good thing? To avoid Sam this long even with her small attempts of reaching out?

Of course, it wasn’t. You idiot. Taking off your boots with a resigned sigh, you lazily placed them on the floor. The plushie was still on your other hand and you plopped the dolphin stuffed toy next to you in bed. It was easy to get lost as you laid all comfortable on warm sheets and cold pillows—you're off to la-la-land, dozing off completely into a dreamless state. As your body relaxed, you found it odd how all of a sudden it smells like chemical.

It was strong and vivid for your taste, that even if your brain sends a jolt of panic, you are numbed—unable to move nor wake up.

Like a terrible nightmare, it seemingly paralyzed you until you blacked out again and you didn’t have any more time to analyze it further.

How many hours has it been?

You worry that you’ll miss work. Disoriented, you feel yourself starting to wake up with eyes calibrating as they open. It smells different, though it’s more pleasant; earthly and flowery than the blur of chemical induced you've experienced before. Was it a dream? Your heart started racing—this is definitely not your bedroom. The mattress was softer than yours, the layers of sheets felt gentle against your skin. Not to mention you didn't have this amount of pillows underneath your head, like you were some sort of royalty. The bed was too wide for your limbs that were acquainted with the minimal space you were used to. Then it clicks to you; you are definitely in a different place.

But wait.

You've been here before.

In your hazy sight, you yanked on your forearm as your wrists felt oddly sore and prickling your nerves, only to find out the restraints that kept you for god knows how many hours. Your breathing pattern started racing—attempting to shake off the handcuffs. It was tight. You were still wearing your flowy dress as you glanced at your body.

"Good morning, mi amor." says the deep voice that rattled you.

Your sight makes out a figure of a person standing in front of you, ominous, yet had an amused look on her face.

How did you get in here? Into Sam's room?

"Sam? What—?" you rasped out weakly. "I don't… what is this?"

Sam had the audacity to smile through her little contraption. You poor sweet thing, she had anticipated many things; first comes the confusion.

She’s wearing your favorite shirt, worn out and tightly fitted to her body. With how Sam is built, you fear that the fabric will rip if she keeps on moving. It’s the same one you've lost during senior year and luckily for Sam, she found it in her room during one of your sleepovers and upon finding them, she had no intentions of returning it to you. The timing was perfect, she carried this piece of you as her father left her with no choice but to move away from your town then. Sam stood barefoot and her legs were covered with her silk sleepwear.

"Hush, It's okay, you're okay. You’re safe with me, (y/n/n)." Sam cooed as she sauntered your way, the bed dipping as she gently straddled your legs. It’s the same softly spoken tone you heard many times before, but Sam's actions remain to perplex you. "Relax, you’re at home—with me."

Then comes the panic.

You huff out frustratedly, "What home are you talking about? This isn't my– it isn't–! Fuck, I need you to uncuff me!” with gritted teeth, you try to kick your feet and legs in the air in protest. You didn’t like being forced into this. It was simply insane. Because either way, you were hopelessly drawn and possibly in love with Sam—enough to comply with whatever she desired.

Your wrists tug on the restraints again making them clink against the headboard and to no avail, you weren't able to loosen them up. It was a genuine pair of handcuffs. This wasn't a prank. The terror rapidly coursed through your veins, much more now that you can't move your legs as well, being trapped in Sam's weight.

"But you're with me. I've told you before, I missed having you, I even repeatedly begged you to come back home. You belong here with me."

Sam had wanted to do this hours ago—missing to be in your proximity, evading your space fully. But she knew it'll suffocate you and she couldn't risk putting her favorite pretty girl into a worse spiral of panic attack.

"No, no, no... I was with- this wasn't where I went right after Lucy... I- I got home, my house and I remember sleeping on my bed," Surely you aren't mad. You can recall the events step-by-step, hence this current situation you're in has left you confused. "How did I get here?"

"First, no mentioning of other women when I'm with you. Or ever at all." Sam breaks out a growl. When you gasp, she holds your jaw, tilting them up. Her hold onto you shifts, thumb now soothed your cheeks gently, wiping away the tears you were unknowingly shedding out of panic. "I had to do it my way, mi amor. I'm sorry."

And it swiftly shifts to anger.

A snarl breaks out of you in the midst of panic.

But oh, Sam could never hurt you.

"What the fuck is your way, Samantha?!"

Sam believed that you only need a little more push—convincing how perfect the two of you are together. After all, she has waited for you for so long and had expected that your reunion was enough to prove that. She has been so good to you. Sam thought; why did you have to look for more? She can give you everything.

"This right here." Sam quipped airily, a teasing look written on her face. "The last time you were in my bed... you were eager to leave. And you did, abruptly and odd, when I first thought of it. Then, you didn't plan on returning at all. That hurt me so much, (y/n/n)." Sam's gaze changed to hurt, head tilted as the intensity of her doe-eyes bore into yours.

Guilt prickled on your side. While you disapprove of Sam's ways, maybe you could have prevented it—this. Confronted her after what you found out. She's a friend first that you cherished before being entangled intimately. After all, communication also goes both ways.

"So, you basically took me? Handcuffed me, too. This is kidnapping, you know I could—"

"Report me? If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time. These cops are sloppy and way too easy. But still, they do make a good ear and connection for me, I must say."

You gasp at her implication. You should have expected it.

"Unbelievable. You've gone crazy, Samantha."

Sam shifted her weight, locking your hips with her thighs. Your breath hitched at the force, much more when you felt something hard poking at your pelvis.

"I hate it when you call me that. You're pushing it, baby. First you ignored me and your solution was to go and date someone else? I thought I made myself clear that I didn't like sharing you with anyone else, (y/n/n)?"

You blinked rapidly.

"It- It wasn't like that—"

"No? If it weren't for Tara and Martin giving me a heads up, you would've invited that girl to your house, wouldn't you?" Sam uttered with gritted teeth, "She must’ve done it to spite me. The nerve to leave a lipstick stain on your pretty face, tell me, did she kiss you?" Her thumb swiped your bottom lip, as if to erase the remains of what once laid in there, then up to your cheek but much more firmer than this time.

Sam was already debating ways on how she will dispose of this Lucy you speak of. Her eyebrows now furrowed and the loving eyes were ripped off, anger fixated on the red mark on your soft cheek.

"What? I don't—no, no, Sam. I'm telling you, it was just a simple date. We only ate at this restaurant and—what does your sister and men have to do with this?" you asked, growing confused even more.

If you loathed how defensive you were, Sam however, took immense pride in it. It just meant that you still cared for her feelings. So, there was something indeed. She wasn’t being delusional all this time—like her father distastefully implied.

Sam cowered onto you lower, her dark hair curtained as you were underneath her.

"Tara's wife owns the restaurant that you visited last night. As for Martin, well, I ordered him to call me in case something happened. Imagine my surprise when they both did."

He was following this whole time. That explained one of your conundrums of feeling eyes on you these days.

"You've been following me around?"

Sam was immovable, unphased by your words. She didn’t confirm nor deny your implication.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Come on, love — it's me." The pad of her fingertips trace on your features feather-like. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Haven't I made that very clear?"

You scoffed at her nonchalance. "See, I would have believed you if you didn't take me unwillingly out of my apartment and cuffed me in your bedpost!"

"But I've always wanted to see you tied up like this. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I can recall you getting all flustered when I brought it up before. Wasn't it a confirmation on your end?" Sam had her pearly teeth clamped on her bottom lip. As she dropped the words, your cheeks grew hot. "Call this... me reading between the lines." Sam husked out right on your ear.

"Samantha, you are something else." A strained voice weakly comes out of you.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

You rolled your eyes. "'course you will."

Sam hiked up your dress further, exposing your undies. You squirmed at being exposed and she smacked the side of your thigh in return. You yelped as it stung in your skin, throwing your head to the side of the pillow.

"Now, don't put up that attitude with me princesa."

It was embarrassing enough how you're affected with Sam and her way with words. Were you damp in the southern part? She has to stop and not pry further with her advances—or else she'll never live it down.

"I just don't understand how you were so insistent on taking me here," You peer at Sam who had her jaw clenched as she detached her hold to you. "I dunno, we could've talked about this normally. In a space preferably where I’m not restrained like this. Samantha, I mean it. I can't play any more games with you."

Sam raised an eyebrow over your words. A game? She was absolutely displeased with how little you think of her admiration for you. The disbelief was written all over her face.

She became eerily stoic at your words. You didn’t like being the receiver of her blank expression.

"The last time I did, you were adamant on leaving me. Fully avoiding me right after. You didn’t even pick up my call. And a game? Is that what you think it is? Oh, princesa. You're absolutely driving me up the wall. You're shutting me out, I’m familiar with it.”

You couldn't retort anything back at her words, gulping as you found the truth behind them. Sam was right; you've always wanted to run away from any forms of confrontation.

You were never good at dealing with them.

Such a poor little thing, Sam thought. This was evidently giving you a whiplash, her attitude and unconventional ways, but she doesn't think she can wait any longer and the unforeseen little date you had last evening just accelerated, no, ruined her plans.

"Was she any good?" Sam lowly questioned with her other hand trailed underneath your dress, running on your upper thighs as she moved back. You shiver at the contact and warmth that spread goosebumps all over your skin.

Sam refused to call this woman by their name, it would make things harder for her. She detests how for a moment, you chose someone else over her.

You helplessly squirmed, making the handcuffs clink repeatedly once again. "She- she was nice—" you truthfully said.

When you wiggled out your legs, Sam overpowered you. She gripped your plush thighs, opened them to have herself placed in between, with your folded legs raised in the air, she took her hips to push them downward to stop you. Her own core met yours and you felt her packing.

"Nngh—!" you heated up, so close from erupting louder.

And Sam? She hated to see you suppressing them. Especially when you have deprived her of your sweet presence for so long. But she has already learned that loosening up too much wasn't the good approach. She barely knew a lick to romance, not when her upbringing was surrounded by coldness and violence. She thought in realistic terms, the romantic movies that you loved and forced her to see were pathetic. Adorable that you found hope in them, so she gave that formula a shot when she saw you again.

Only to see that you slipped away from her. It was ineffective, so to say.

Sam decided that she was going to create her own.

"Wrong answer, honey.” she smiled. “You say that yet I can tell you're already wet for me, aren't you?"

You didn’t like how this turned out as foreplay and what was worse, is how you were enjoying this deep inside. Sam being in tune with your body—she already knew that. You just needed a little more… breaking.

"Fuck off, Sam. Just uncuff me already!"

"Now don't get me started. Say, I'll make a deal with you," Sam combed her fingers through your messy hair. "If you're wet once I inspect you, we'll do things my way. If you aren't– maybe– I will let you go."

Astounded with her proposition, annoyance crept into you.

"What's so fair about that?"

"The illusion of choice." Sam grinned mischievously. "But you can't possibly be wet aren't you? It's still early in the morning and your words are insisting that you dislike this whole setup." she gestures on your body, huffing at how you're still resisting her.

"You don't own me," you attempted to stand for yourself.

Mirth settled on Sam's features. She tilted her head and an unsettling smile was set on her lips.

“Haven’t I proved that otherwise from time to time?”

You look away at her crystal clear innuendo. Of course it's Sam. Everything that she did always had you transfixed and mesmerized by her.

"You're just mocking me now. Seriously, maybe if you knew why I pulled away..." you wryly replied.

"That's the thing, I don't! It frustrates me what I have done wrong," Sam now appeared equally exasperated as you.

You look at her bewildered. She had the nerve to say all of this, while her eyes were pleading at you. It was jarring to witness her crumble and desperate to seek answers in the softest way she can, while having you handcuffed.

"I heard you! That day, when you cooked for me and wanted me to stay in.” There wasn't going to be another chance if you didn't pour it all right now. With a shaky breath and a lump in your throat, you continue. “I accidentally eavesdropped on your phone call, confirming that you were going to a strip club. I hated that you were fucking around, even when we– whatever we were. I thought it was better to stub it out right after that. Apparently, I’m still not good with keeping things casual.”

Her calloused hands came back to softly soothe your face. You were close to shedding tears as previously.

"But… I've never been with anyone else since we met again."

"Bullshit." you quickly spat out.

She gave you a stern look. Sam was displeased with how you were denying her. Still, she evens out her breathing, holding back from taking the reins for now.

"I swear on it with a knife on my throat, (y/n/n). I had to go for work reasons. I recently acquired the place so I had to finalize some things. It also helped to muddle our meet-ups in case someone was lurking."

It made you tense up underneath Sam.

"And pray tell, why the hell would someone be lurking at you—better yet, at us?" you curiously asked, worry dripped at your tone.

Sam exhaled, her eyes momentarily shut.

"Because I deal with an under-the-table business, honey." Sam meets your eyes again, holding onto the headboard. "It's the main reason why I had to step up, as I said before. My old man let his temperament slip terribly, fucked up, and I had to take the reigns. That's why I disappeared. I didn't have much choice." She appeared solemn as she admitted the truth you've been longing for.

Sam leading a mob made so much sense now for you. Always wanting to be discreet, her men tried to blend in—not wanting to stand out, and especially that night where Sam was disoriented and had bruising, injured fists, more times than you can count after your first time seeing them.

The glint of amusement on Sam’s eyes did not go amiss for you as she gently stroked your hair. “Though, I gotta hand it to my old man. I hated how his voice nagged constantly in my head, how he figured out that I had feelings for you then–utilized it to taunt me every time I fucked up.” Sam scrunched her nose. The resentment seeped vividly as she revealed more. “He’ll always say, I can’t see you yet or- or that I don’t deserve you if I can’t defend you—that I’m weak. You were my silver lining, (y/n/n). Still is.” She confessed, stroking your jaw softly as though you were her most prized possession.

Similar to that one night, your affection for Sam overpowered your common sense. You were moved by her words, ached that she had to be tormented at a young age. Feeling bile rising up your throat; you then realize how deep were you enough to be willing to ignore the unconventional and wicked ways of Sam, even if it raised red flags. But it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t posing an immense weight over you.

It was all new information to you. For god’s, she had to kidnap you and cuff you to her bed. You never thought that your sweet Sammy could ever—

"That's... okay- okay. It's a lot to take in," you whispered to Sam who was internally worrying at your response.

Before you can delve more to the sirens threatening to grow louder, Sam scooted her lower body away from gripping you, and now you feel her lips softly yet so eagerly peppering your face with kisses.

"We don't have to talk about it right now, but I just want you, (y/n/n)."

She pinched your inner thigh, making your mouth open agape from the shock. Sam took it as her chance to meet your mouth with hers, no hesitation now as she was eager to kiss you. Her lips moved and you tentatively returned the gesture, dancing with familiarity that you didn’t know you badly craved for weeks now.

You groan at the overwhelming feeling of Sam and how she moved against you. Wet and eager sounds of kissing vibrated delectably to your body and it made Sam shift to a hunger and lust fueled kiss.

Soon you were gasping for air. Sam reluctantly pulled away as you did, chasing your lips for more. She was more than pleased to see you equally half-lidded and affected with now swollen lips.

“God, I wanna be inside of you already…” Sam husked out as she swept back her hair. “You’ve made me so desperate, you have no idea.” The ragged breathing made you throb. She moved aside to spread your legs apart and you became wetter at what’s about to happen. Sam quickly placed herself between your legs, now folded up. “Do you wanna feel me?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for Sam.

She grabbed you by your cheeks, “I need an answer, mi amor.”

“Yes!” you breathed out, nodding dumbly.

Sam grinned wolfishly as your need starts to crack upon the surface. She knew that this irresistible feeling goes both ways. Still, she thrived on seeing this each time, being proved right.

“Arch your back for me.”

As you complied, Sam slithered her own body flushed against yours. It gave her enough space to reach behind to unzip your dress, tugged it down, her look barely faltered with a glint in her eyes.

She saw your matching jade underwear pieces. Seethe began to bubble inside of Sam as it sinks in that you dressed up too nicely for your date last night. It drove her crazy, how your gorgeous tits were threatening to spill out of its confinement; you were such a sight for her.

Only for her and it should always stay that way.

She cupped them out of your bra, finally revealing your supple breasts. It only took one glance for her desire to take over and now you’re pressed against Sam. She feels your nipples harden on her as she begins to mark you from your neck, to your sternum, and coated them with her spit as she sucked on them needily. Throughout the process, all you could do was spill moans helplessly, eyes closed and arched your body for her—gladly letting Sam do however she wanted.

Now your body was littered with red and purple marks, some parts glistening with her saliva.

“I want to taste you too, fuck, I don’t know which one I’ll do first.” Sam admitted, voice all raucous. Taking a peek of her needy, doe eyes was enough to make you feel lightheaded. “No more dates with other people alright? So god help me, I’ll fucking behead anyone who dares to.”

You nodded, now eager to comply with Sam as your whole body ached for her. Your green light made her weak in the knees—she worships you. Sam swore that she won’t hesitate to kill more for you, if they cross you or come between the two of you.

Sam pulled you in by gripping your legs, lower body completely arched for your core to meet hers as she knelt at the bed in front of you. She thrusted her hips upward and the dull ache of your pussy throbbing intensified tenfold. She continued teasing you and while your arm and wrists were beginning to ache, knowing you can’t do anything, you started to cry, pleading for the woman to do something.

“Please Sam, can you just– shit, it hurts, I need you… please…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sam gently released her hold of you, pulling down her sleepwear and revealed the strap that dangled between her legs.

You involuntarily widen your legs at the sight. Fuck, you were so ready for her. She smirked at this and tugged your underwear down. Your arousal flowed like crazy, the vivid imagery of your wetness stringing on the fabric of your panties and Sam was intoxicated at it, more so with your heavenly scent.

“Wanna fuck your mouth first, (y/n/n).”

With no further warning, Sam hovered against you once again, leaving your pussy exposed and being teased with the mere air, feeling yourself drip already at her expensive bed sheets. Strong thighs and muscular lower abdomen peeked through her tight shirt, covering your entire sight.

Sam tilted her head and you see the mirth on her face. Unexpectedly, she grabbed the middle of the strap’s length and slapped it harshly on your cheek and mouth, barely an ounce of respect. You were a fan of how she loses herself onto you—because of you.

Body twitching repeatedly, without a doubt, you were craving for more.

“I need my good girl. Come on, open up for me.” Sam orders, probing your mouth open with the tip. Sam’s scent was intoxicating for you, too, with barely space from her core to your face, you almost wanted for her to ride you. Maybe later. “And I need to prep you first.”

Wanting to please her, you met her lust filled gaze and opened your mouth wide, tongue stuck out. She immediately pushed in a few inches, your tongue already swirling around the silicone. It stretched your mouth. With closed eyes you were sucking so eagerly that Sam moaned at each thrust she did, hit the back of your throat that you had to adjust your breathing through your nose–and how you easily complied with no hesitance. You covered it in the slick of your spit until your cheeks hollowed, eager to please even if you were close to gagging. Drool sloppily dripped on corner of your mouth; equally lost as her right now and Sam loved that.

No one and nothing else can compare to this sight.

“Shit, you love me moving like this huh? Being cock drunk, you’re pooling already in my sheets…”

She grunts as she thrusted harder, getting more turned on as the slick wet sounds become aggressively loud in the confines of her bedroom. Sam kept her gaze on you the whole time–loved the sight of your eyes welling up with tears out of pleasure, drooling on the corner of your mouth, and you were releasing throaty moans as she moved on your mouth.

“You missed this, don’t you?” Sam breathily asked, the bed creaked along. “Because I sure did,”

You hummed loud in agreement and this urged Sam to grab the shaft of her strap, with one final thrust, she poked it against your cheek, the head of the cock bulging against it. She groaned at the imagery—ingraining it on her mind. She pulled out with a pop noise and you were already dishevelled.

“Fucking hell, (y/n/n). Not so responsive now are you? Fuck, if my cock was real I would’ve made you swallow my cum already. Spilling them warm on your throat. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you?” Sam asked you through her rapid breathing and held you by your cheeks again to fully look at her.

“Yes, yes! I’ll swallow it all. I need you, I always need you, Sam,” you admit with no shame and spread your legs wide once again, your hole soaked and clenching over nothing—all for her.

“Must be your lucky day then. Because this is a cumming strap, mi amor.”

As your eyes widened, Sam pumped on the shaft, directing it to your mouth that was slightly ajar and you felt liquid oozing on your lips and tongue. She dragged it until spurts were all over your face, torso, and then your lower tummy.

You made sure to put on a show for the woman, seductively licking off the remains of her fake cum, fully immersed as if it was the real thing. Sam groaned and moaned, immediately pulled you for a bruising kiss that made your head spin.

“I know you wanted more but I need you to be patient,” Sam muttered as she pushed your inner thighs outward, positioning herself between you. “Shit, you’re dripping. I was right. Soaking, just like I expected you to be.”

“Yes, yes! But for the love of god, uncuff me, Sam… I want- no- I need to feel all of you,” you begged for her mercy. Sam simply bit your exposed clavicle. As you moaned, the action sent delicious tingles all over her body.

“No, not just yet.”

Sam’s calculations were going well so far, she’s about to have you and then keep you forever.

There’s no escaping her now.

You whined a bit more as Sam had her grip on the back of your knees, making you fold as she pressed herself beneath you. She held you by the ankle and threw them above her shoulder. Fuck, she’s got you folded. Maybe Sam should’ve let you do some stretching first.

“Need you to take a deep breath for me, pretty girl.” Sam uttered with her voice all gruff, and looking at her, you see the sheer sweat becoming evident on her skin though not as much as yours. “You didn’t like me so much earlier but now, I’m barely in, and your pussy is clenching already?” she mocked you. Her giggling burned your body, you did not expect how enjoyable it was to be ridiculed in this way. “Loosen up for me.”

With a bated breath as you relax your throbbing core, Sam slid her cock further, the head and a few inches entering you with ease than earlier. Sam was keen on looking at your expression and your mouth, in case it was too much for you. She knew it was a new thing for the two of you, she can only imagine that it’ll be a new adjustment compared to her slender fingers.

This was an insane type of stretch for you. The biggest you’ve ever taken.

“See? You’re taking it so well. I’ll make it fit.”

Eventually, it wasn’t enough for Sam as you expected. Drunk with the sight of your pussy swallowing her whole, she picks up her pace and rammed the cock inside of you—full of hunger and determination to see you fall apart; she needs it more than air.

“Shit! S-Sam, can you just–”

“Shhh. Don’t be so greedy now, where are your manners?”

The curve of the whole shaft inside of you was vivid against your walls, her impatience getting the better of her as the pace was ragged, no longer gradual. It was downright pornographic–you didn’t expect to be this loud and wet. The ache of being deliciously stretched out made your eyes roll back to your head and let out a moan. The sloshing and slapping sounds were too defined for your ears.

“You… you’re going to be the end of me, Sam,” You whisper as you bucked your hips, the squelching of your sopping pussy only motivated Sam to thrust deeper who smiled at your words.

She waited for you for so long and to finally have you was intoxicating beyond her comprehension.

“As you are mine,” Sam replied and with a newfound fervor, she began fucking you deep into her mattress, hitting the depths of your soaked pussy. The bed uncontrollably shaking and with her grip on the headboard–you feared that she might actually break it.

“Oh m-mmh! Fuck, oh-Oh my god!” you cried, not even able to ground yourself through holding onto something as you’re still cuffed.

“Shhh you can take it. Just a little more,”

Your arousal dripped enough to smear itself to Sam’s hips and thighs. She grunts loudly as she fervently pounds the strap on you, "Esto es mia." her accent dripped deliciously and you whimpered, whole back arched, as Sam splayed her hand, pushing the bulge of the strap that appeared on your lower tummy. “You like that baby? Needy little thing, I’m going to fucking breed you until all you can think of is me.” you wish to have your nails dug and scratched over Sam’s muscular back, finding the ideas she kept on seeding onto your dirty mind pleasurable more than ever.

Your stomach twitched like crazy, the tangled coil grew unbearable now for your liking. Both of your muscles burned but it was barely an issue for Sam who was still relentless.

Just as you were close as Sam hit the right spot, her pounding came into a full halt.

With hazy sight, you try to blink a few times. Sam started to pull out, while you cried, canting your hips to chase more of the strap and she simply took deep breaths. She growled, slapping you harshly by your inner thighs—you yelped unadulteratedly, the sting crossing the line of pain and pleasure. Sam muttered a string of curses in her mother tongue as soon as she saw the strap coated and glistening with your slick.

The tension on your stomach twitched madly in waves. It doesn’t help that your clit was throbbing painfully to reach the needed high. You wail as you turn your head to the side, burrowing to the soft pillows. Your vision turns warped as you grew dizzy, staring at the high ceiling.

The harsh reality sinks in. Like a cold bucket of water spilled onto you, you realize that you’re in Sam’s complete mercy. She makes it known with her giggling that resonated in the spacious room, making you feel humiliated. Though, it oddly adds to the erotic atmosphere. She worked you up–gaping hole still clenching, now onto nothing.

“This is what happens when you do dumb things and deprive me of your pretty self, mi amor.” she smiled and stroked the apple of your cheek, wiping the tears away.

Sam couldn’t wait to fully break you.

While previously wallowing in deep yearning and questions, Sam however, took it up a notch. It was terrible; aware of Sam’s tendencies to be rough in bed, nothing had prepared you from yesterday. Her intentions were clearly personal and she took the detachment horrifyingly and dealt with it in unimaginable ways you never thought could happen to you. For gods’s sake, she was following you and not so long ago you were in her bed. Uncertain how you’ll face this mess, there’s one thing that you were sure of: you cannot get enough of Sam.

Isn’t that terrible?

You woke up gasping for air—your body doesn’t feel like yours. It felt as though you were paralyzed, your motor senses weren’t coordinated as you wanted them to be. It was like being plunged into a body of water for hours, coldness surrounded you and oxygen was scarce, you were completely deprived. Your lungs were clogged up and you didn’t know how to manage the air through your body. Panicking at this, the tears involuntarily well up your eyes, blurring your vision and just in time, someone catches you.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Warmth covers your body. The soothing voice kept on lulling you to calmness. The grasp was firm on your midsection—continuously rubbing back and forth. It wasn’t like being trapped anymore. “It’s just me, mi amor. It’s Sam—your Sammy. Try to breathe slowly with me, come on baby, you can do it.”

The voice faintly goes through your hearing but it was distinguishable enough. It was still difficult to breathe but being in her proximity, you feel her pattern of breathing. She takes a deep breath and draws out the release just as slow.

“Breathe with me, come on honey,” The voice urges you gently, sweeping the hair away from your face. She anchors you through the turbulent waves. Sam thought; How can you still look so beautiful even at your most vulnerable? If anything, this had made her even more set with her plans—wanting more days of waking up next to you.

Your breathing was less ragged, albeit still unregulated.

Sam wanted to see your eyes now, the one that she loves the most, and your subdrop is depriving her of it.

She tries to paint an easy picture for you in hopes of calming you down. “You’re alright. You stayed with me—in my house the whole day. It’s nighttime and nothing bad is going to happen to you. What’s going to happen is that you’ll rest the whole day. I’ll prepare some food, we’ll go for a bubble bath, and reapply a soothing cream to your sore thigh and we can watch some romantic comedies that you like so much—you’d pick the movie, of course.” Sam finishes with a light chuckle.

Finally, the panicking has settled down, her words have lulled you to calm down. You aren't drowning in the vast and deep sea nor restrained like a prisoner. It provided enough details that you didn’t know your mind longed for.

“Sam,” you drawl out with your hoarse voice. You’re met with the beaming hazel eyes, crinkled at the corners, attentive to your next words. “Fucking warn a girl next time.”

“No promises.” She teases you, nose scrunched and tickling your side lightly.

You fight off a weak smile threatening to spread on your lips. “What do you mean no promises? I don’t think I can walk! Don’t even look smug right now–I mean it.”

The woman in front of you was not guilty at all. Shrugging her shoulder, Sam was seemingly ready to get up.

No!

You shrieked. Panic immediately courses through you, tugging her down harshly to your side once again. Your grasp was in her arm. Why were you so adamant to have her beside you? It was unexplainable but if anything is certain, your body couldn’t handle it if she left you. Not after letting her have her way with you earlier—you refuse to feel disposable, even by the slightest. You wanted more of Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, was shocked at the action but not at the reason. She blamed herself—knowing you were still processing your feelings, how rough she has been—she should have remained gentle, at least for now. Sickeningly, she loved having your attention this way. It felt like a teaser of what was more to come—to eventually have your full devotion; equally as she does to you.

“I’m sorry, honey, I was about to carry you.” Safe with me now. She murmured to no one, soon as you clung to the front of her body, legs wrapped tightly to her waist. Her arms and hands quickly caught you for support. You nuzzled in the crook of her neck, making her shiver delectably more so as you tangle your fingers on her hair—scratching lightly on her scalp.

Not long after as she started walking, she pressed multiple innocent kisses to the expanse of your neck. Sam sighed. God, everything had to be so addicting about you—even your scent. She gently drops you to the cold marble of her kitchen’s counter and before you could protest, Sam reminds you of the plans she had made for tonight.

You’re surrounded with appliances that you had no idea how to properly pronounce, one that you would’ve only seen in the magazines. She always wanted the best of the best, it seems. Hell, Sam can start a cooking show if she wants to. This part of her house wasn’t too decorated, you noticed, somewhat lifeless. You tuck the observation at the back of your mind, a piece that could be useful later on.

Soon as you settled in, Sam told you that she intends to make an appetizing flatbread and her own concoction of guacamole dip. How she managed to improve her culinary skills in these years remains to surprise you. Younger Sam was already capable of making edible food fixes and some humble meals, but her skills as she made them was evidently different and an upgrade.

Your curious eyes remained at Sam as she moved. Her apron appeared threatening—it read don’t make me poison you! Attached with a kiss mark was ridiculously endearing to you. But also very, very hot. The way Sam tied it around her waist and how it clung to her fit figure. Not to mention, you were rewarded by the sight of Sam’s hair tie momentarily trapped by her teeth then doing a messy half-pony with it.

She first started with the dough with the trusty rolling pin, her arms flexing and contracting at each force she put into it. The veins were slowly becoming prominent as Sam does her work, the outline of its curves bulging, also making themselves known. Remnants of the powder were a nice touch as she was making a meal for you.

Don’t even get started with her knife skills. Sam easily chopped through the vegetables, completely hypnotized by the motion, you failed to notice that she was preparing some greens that you personally had a vendetta with. Your eyes were fixated on how she cut through them with much precision and ease. Then, you recall her admission, leading a mob—you can only imagine how swift she must be with her sharps when using them in business situation, the menacing glare and—

What?

Now, you were thoroughly confused.

You gulped and squirmed on your seat. The ache in between your legs made you remember how she deprived you of orgasm previously which was a first. She even promised to breed you. But you didn’t know whether it was an act of mercy, knowing if she pushed you more, you would have spiraled much worse the following hours when you woke up or was it an act to build an excitement through you.

No wonder, similar to the physical hunger, you found everything in front just as equally gratifying. Even the thought of her malevolent ways, which you initially had conflicting thoughts about. You were still aching and sore, it didn’t help that Sam was quite the eye-candy as she maneuvered in her own space. Shit.

“I know you still don’t like these. I remember you shoving them sneakily on my plate whenever we ate dinner at your house back then.” Sam snapped you out of your…derailing thoughts. Oh, you wanted to be railed, alright. She dusts off her hands on her aprons after washing them. “But you have to eat up your greens, missy. Don’t make me force you.” she quips in a jest, eyes scrunched at you.

“I don’t have much choice, do I.” You deadpan and roll your eyes as Sam hummed, agreeing. “How come you don’t have a personal chef?”

Might as well shift your thoughts to something else. Admittedly, you also wanted to know more about Sam. After the continuous bombs she had dropped to you as she fucked you to oblivion.

“Ouch, baby. You haven’t even tasted what I’m cooking and you’re already doubting me?”

You laughed. “No. But I heard it’s what rich folks have. And you must be busy.”

“Not for you, never too busy.” She replied, quickly like it didn’t need much forethought. She shot you a charming smile and proceeded to chop away. Did your heart do the somersaults? Hell yes. You were always puddy when it comes to this woman. “Sometimes I do… but I prefer doing it personally for you. Especially today. But on another occasion, maybe you’ll see my personal chef.”

“Do I sense an early invitation for an indoor date?” you tease her.

Sam nodded her head adorably. “Well, yes, (y/n/n). I thought that was clear already. More things to come.”

Well, that joke of yours bit you quickly in the ass.

You coughed and turned around to your side to hide how affected you were. This version of your Sammy would need more time to be processed into your consciousness. Few weeks apart and you’re still clammy and hopeless at her forward nature.

“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. For all I know, this feels like another booty call for me.”

“A booty call?”

Okay, maybe that was a bad idea. Sam halted her motions, you flinched in your seat as she spun the knife effortlessly in her fingers, then gripped the knife and pierced it in the chopping board—the sound resonating in the kitchen.

“You are my girlfriend and it better stay that way.” A lilt of aggression and possessiveness dripped in her honeyed voice. She couldn’t stand you doubting more of her actions. Or worse, you mentioning any traces of your past experiences of hooking up with other people. “Like I said, I despise having to share you amongst all things. I thought I made it clear; no talking of other people–more so when you were entangled with them at one point–around me. I absolutely cannot stand it.”

Her jaw grinded as it bothered her. Sam didn’t know whether she should throw up or plan to hunt them all down and slice them all up, gut them up like a fucking fish, as she pays them a little visit. Starting with this Lucy woman you just went on a date with.

Shiver ran through your spine at her tone, coupled with Sam’s harsh parting of your still sore legs, settling between them as yours dangled on the marble counter. You turn into jelly oddly both at Sam’s admission of wanting you—claiming you—and her hand that greedily ran on your ribs, dangerously under your breast, and the other brought up your inner wrist, and pressed a kiss softly.

“I wasn’t– I just wanted to clear this out. It confused me for a while, what we were. I just needed it spelled out. For the sake of my inner peace.” You stammer out and Sam’s features slowly relax to your admission.

“Well, you are mine, mi amor. I’m reiterating that for a million times more until it sinks in to you.”

She professed, tilted her head and leaned to you with no hesitation, and as you met her halfway, one of her hands rested to the side of your head, pulling you for a chaste kiss. You burned for Sam, chased her touch, and the butterflies on your stomach were still there. Not even the little cheek kiss from your date last night could compare by the slightest.

Soon as Sam pulled away, your stomach growled, reminding you of actual hunger. She chuckled upon hearing and quickly resumed her work.

“I didn’t know you were this…” You stop to find the right words. Sam tilted her head to the side again, always attentive to you. “Passionate.” Possessive, almost. Maybe you would have said that but you didn’t want to break such an intimate air between you. Not when Sam is officially your girlfriend.

Sam however, found it amusing. She’s surprised you barely caught up with her nature. Even in your younger years, she assumes that you only took it as protectiveness. Casualties were barely encountered then because you were attached to the hip, by default nobody wanted to mess with you as everyone was aware of Sam’s intimidating self. She was all talk and bite.

"You can say possessive and I won't be mad. I don't want you holding back to me."

“Okay. I was about to say that. Were you ever like this with other girls?” you timidly ask out of curiosity.

She shook her head. “No, just you.”

Sam clearly remembers this girl from her lacrosse team who wanted to ask you out for homecoming. Unlucky for her, Sam had heard her previously in the locker room, talking about you as they perceived you both in sweet and disgusting ways.

She mentally agreed with how they recited your beauty out loud. You are definitely a piece of art to Sam. She unashamedly admired you out in the open, but it appeared that you were oblivious to it. But then, they also talked about how you were possibly freaky—your innocent and quiet nature was a mere ploy in their eyes and they would like to tap your ass and ramble more of your curves.

It may or may have not intendedly caused Sam to perfectly stage an accidental scene to break the girl's ankle during one of the practices then sneered for her teammate to 'watch out next time' and 'not even think about you' in the slightest.

“Guess I was indeed full of surprises, hm?” She simply replied, getting a glass and a bottle of your favorite flavor of fruit juice for you.

How did Sam even know that this was your go-to comfort drink?

With wide eyes, you accept it gratefully.

“Yes, you are.”

Not long after, Sam had finally finished up preparing food for you two. The serving was definitely quite generous. She didn’t hesitate overfilling it with the toppings and sauce. She brought up a piece of her creation in your mouth, which you easily took a bite of. The food and its flavors melted in your tastebuds. You couldn’t help but moan in pure delight.

Sam laughed. “That good?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re stroking my ego, baby.” She places her palm flat on her chest, seemingly flattered. “Don’t talk with your mouth full—you know this.”

And you? You almost spluttered out the food you were chewing. Sam and her devilish antics will be the end of you.

It wasn’t you to be contained in one place. You were always moving, whether there was a force or not. Yet, for the last few days, you manage to be unmovable. Miraculously taking your sweet time with Sam. Time seems to fade when it comes to her. More than anything, you were in disbelief you get to call your long time crush as yours.

The small haven the two of you built for the last few days came to an inevitable end with Sam having to attend to her business matters.

You were displeased, the bubbling separation anxiety somewhat coming to the surface already. Just before Sam left, she pulled you into a deep make out session, and both of you were getting handsy. Gleaming at the thought of finally getting a sense of release, to your surprise, Sam managed to break away and compose herself—smoothening the material of her dress shirt and fixing up her tie.

To pile more to your frustration, you saw the emerald upholstered chair that Sam shamelessly paid and took when she fucked you senselessly at that lingerie boutique. As expected of the woman, she had it in her placed in the resting area of her house.

Before deciding to explore more of the nooks and crannies of Sam’s home; you eventually noticed the red lights at some corners placed in the bedroom and a brilliant idea popped out in your mind.

You retrieve your phone and dial Sam to confirm and quell your thoughts.

“Miss me already?”

“Terribly so.” you fiddle with the strings of Sam’s hoodie–the owner giggling to your direct confession. “I just noticed, but are these cameras in your bedroom?” your eyes flit to one to your right.

Sam cleared her throat. “Before you detest the idea; baby, it’s all for safety. If it makes it all better, I’m the only one with access to the bedroom cameras.”

You almost snorted because of course, she would.

Audibly, you sighed out of relief with a hand clutched to your chest. “Thank god. ‘cause I was about to touch myself.”

You’ve dropped the words so casually that Sam for the first time, was out of words. Faintly, you picked up something on the other end, a sound like a clear fall–unbeknownst to you, you have successfully made her flustered beyond her comprehension.

“Sam? Don’t tell me you hung up on me,” you rolled your eyes.

The woman took a deep breath. “No. Still here.”

“Good…”

Your eyes remained on the camera, giving the best of your pleading eyes–hoping it’ll somehow be visible enough through Sam’s static screen. Hand slithering on your ribs then your covered mounds, making you groan out loud and eventually your fingertips hovered around your pelvis–a flimsy underwear that you Sam chose for you to wear earlier. It was practically see-through. Your body felt feverish, eyes fluttered shut.

It would be so easy to dip your fingers inside…

You hear Sam growl. “Don’t touch yourself. Not without me there. I swear to god, (y/n/n) I’m not playing with you…”

A whine escaped your lips at her order, actions coming into a full stop. It was no use to sneak off, aware now there’s cameras in her house and Sam was bound to figure it out no matter what.

It took Sam half an hour to reach you. You’re met with a determined woman, loosening the tie on her neck and unbuttoning her dress shirt halfway as soon as she barged into her bedroom door—while you gasped, looking still the same as Sam last checked on her monitors.

She manhandled your body, as though you weighed nothing. It spurred your libido higher than ever, mouths crashing and Sam devouring you until your lips bleed and bruised. The only thing that came out of your mouth was her name and more moans that echoed beautifully in her room. Bodies flushed together, you grinded in perfect sync, breasts brushing that made you putty. The familiar gliding of her hands soon met your soaked center. Sam slid her long and slender fingers, entering you but not fully. She started to rub circles slowly until you were worked up enough, playing with pressure, she pumped them deep into your throbbing pussy. Sam grunted at the squelching sounds, obsessed with the warmth of your core. You easily took her in, greedily swallowing all of what she can offer to you.

The twitching of your stomach was absurd and seemingly nonstop. Yet again, Sam noticed, and she took out her coated fingers out of your sopping apex.

“No, not yet princesa.” She devilishly giggled, breathless as you were on top of her lap. You simply cried and squirmed, as the lack of release was making you crazy. “Give me a good reason,”

Your hips bucked but Sam was moving away. You didn’t like it at all. Surely, you were going to combust if you were deprived of this heaven for much longer.

“Please, I can be good! Sammy… I’d do better!”

How can Sam deny you now? She giggled at your state. Sam had to admit, edging you was a form of sick atonement that she wanted to pull out of you. Forged as a punishment for leaving her dry while she was understanding and patient. Her devotion was clear as a day and you’ve failed to notice that. Yet, it was also a ploy to have you in her orbit, even by sexual means. With a sardonic smile, Sam absolutely had fun with it.

“Now you’re talking. Just like how I want you, (y/n/n).”

With newfound fervor, she resumes her motions to your pulsating and insanely wet pussy. You clenched repeatedly around her digits. It released a throaty moan out of Sam, low and breathy, spurring you to arch your head back.

“Tell me how much you need me.”

“N-need you… only—s-shit—just you, Sam! Nngh!”

Pride deeply surged on her chest. If it were possible, her love for you only heightened.

“Oh, I love you.” She confessed against your skin. “Cum for me, (y/n/n).”

The endearing look that Sam had in her hazel eyes had made you even more lightheaded as you took a peek at her. She loves you? You couldn’t believe it. Just in time, your body shook in pleasure as finally you were able to cum. With weeks worth of teasing, it definitely scratched an itch but somewhat it wasn’t enough, yet you couldn’t raise your voice for more as it exhausted you. Maybe you should start working on your stamina, you thought. But then again, Sam was insatiable with her teasing and foreplay. She had been sinfully eyeing you and grabbing you so casually without any promise of making you cum.

Your profession of love to Sam came out in a mumble. Of course, it was no-brainer that you reciprocate her love, too. She simply laughed at your state, body slumped and nuzzled on her neck, a gentle kiss pressed out of appreciation for her. Sam held you tighter, combing through your hair that had grown sticky due to sweat, all softly and breathing in your scent. She smiles upon realizing that you used her own shower items instead of yours, one that she provided, knowing which products you used religiously.

As this was happening, Sam bestowed your little date with a gift. A bloody pig head awaits the woman, the item placed not out of her doorstep but rather from the inside. The scene was gory for her or any sane person’s liking. The trail of redness was spread through her floor and has oxidized. It left a stench of rot, that flies were starting to appear in your date’s home. Sam is anything but rude, so her present came along with a note—one that relayed a clear message of threat for the woman to stay away from you and it would be better if she moved away.

Sam would have made her death swift, dealt with it clean this time as she has no longer a message to relay for you, a contradicting safety and fear which she can both offer—all in order to have you.

Your stunt of touching yourself today effectively reduced Lucy’s sentence. She cut her plans short and had given this woman a second chance and made a simple scare instead of personally gutting her up with ease. Although if she pulled any attempts of challenging her again, Sam would no longer be merciful to her.

Another day of Sam giving you a bouquet of flowers. To her surprise, today was different. Soon as you placed them carefully on a vase filled with water, quickly you retrieved your own gift for her. She always gave you something and you wanted her to know how you always thought of her, too.

You handed Sam a dark blue colored mug that was rough around the edges, a proof of your inexperienced clay making. Designed with stars and the waxing crescent as the main subject, the outline is painted in gold.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked, still in awe.

“Should there be any? It reminded me of you,” You smoothly replied. Her eyes twinkled and it was easy to say that it was a success.

Sam was over the moon. You remembered. Honestly, it was hard not to, because her pillow sheets were still related to the cosmic – only portrayed with much elegant material. Then her ramblings and how Sam would take you out to simply admire the moon at night. As she held your present carefully, you thought now of how it was a fitting symbol for her, with her tendencies of being a night owl and broody. She chuckled at your perception of her.

“Oh and I’m broody?”

You add, "It makes you hot and mysterious though, don't worry."

“We should watch the night sky sometime again. I missed doing that with you.”

With Sam’s eyes crinkled in delight and her million dollar smile directed at you, caught you in her grasp with your feet in the air—her hold flooding you with warmth and adoration—it wasn’t much work for you to smoothen and forgive her of the previous disagreements you’ve had with the woman.

She was simply your Sammy, far from the frightening glimpse you’ve seen of her as someone determined and powerful of a mob leader.

Somehow, you managed to get back unscathed when you returned to work. With absence equivalent to a honeymoon trip, you didn’t know what excuse the universe had provided over you. You explained a made up family-related emergency problem, even though you haven’t seen them in years, and it worked like a charm on your end. You weren’t fired even with the sudden absence, no resentment in your bosses’ tone, and your coworkers simply wondered and then welcomed you back.

What you did not know was that your absurd omnipotent of a girlfriend conjured something, effective enough not to pull much attention in tying her name with yours. Sam already invested in your company. It was clear for her that you wanted your own thing, getting out of work so quickly. She respected this wish of yours. A negative push from her would have made you shut like a clam and she didn’t want that—not when Sam was making progress already.

Were your spirits lifted? Without a doubt. Luck didn’t strike you this much, so you gladly took it in.

Initially, you planned to go back to your apartment after work then call your girlfriend. You can’t deny that you missed your own space, wondering if it was dust littered already, given your absence for how many days.

Although, a car was already waiting for you outside.

“After you.” Martin greets you, opening the car in the backseat. You offer him a polite smile. To your surprise, Sam was seated there too. Immediately, you tackle the woman for a tight hug. Sam returns it with a loving smile and you didn’t want to let go of her addicting embrace.

She looked stunning with her navy turtleneck and usual trousers, along with her polished leather shoes. Sam’s attire always complemented her tanned skin that you love so much–especially with the gold accessories that adorned her look. If anything, getting a sight of her energized you and made your mouth water.

She laced your hands together. “How was work?”

“Good as it can get.” You sighed contentedly, head already leaning to Sam’s broad shoulder. “I don’t know what magic you pulled, but I wasn’t berated at all? And this guy from the other cubicle was the only thing that annoyed me by far.”

“What’d he do to you?” Even without looking, you can already see Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You giggle as it wasn’t a serious matter. “Relax. I just couldn’t tune out his singing and humming today. It got on my nerves… he didn’t exactly have the voice of an angel.”

“Oh I’m sorry you had to put up with that?” Sam meekly says in hopes of comforting you and her thumb rubbing on the back of your hand.

“You know I should be the one asking you–how was your day?” you retort. You always wondered how it worked; Sam being a mob boss. She must’ve always been caught in some form of distress.

Sam bit her lip. She looked at the rear view mirror before answering you. There was nothing much to hide at this point.

“Good. Somewhat smooth, no one annoyed me with a shitty singing voice.” She replied in a deadpan which made you laugh. “No one had to face my knife nor my fists, surprisingly.”

“That for real?” your eyes went wide.

“You asked,” she mumbled. Sam held your hand tighter as though you were going to disappear in thin air. “It’s nothing like a war, (y/n/n). I know your head is getting all creative–but the machine gun out in the open? Not real. Not an efficient way to stay low, either. Sometimes it’s about looking at paperwork and more on discussions. But lately it’s more of in between securing deals, cordially as we can. Then like I said, sometimes… it takes force and grit—in case things go south.”

A pout spreads on your lips. It pulled out a hearty chuckle from Sam. As she suspected, you indeed had a comical imagery of her work.

What she didn’t know was how you grew into liking the vision of her being stern and domineering. You even thought of her office, how her seat must’ve looked like a throne to sit in. Completely lacking in warmth, assertive, cold and calculated as she gave orders around.

You blurt out, “That’s hot.”

“Hot?” Sam looked at you in disbelief and some flattery. “I didn’t expect that from you, (y/n/n).” an amused smile graced her features.

You simply shrugged and soon yawned.

“When was the last time you had time to rest? You deserve this, mi amor, and so much more. It wouldn’t hurt if you let go once in a while.”

It got you thinking. Sam is right. You weren't used to having this privilege; by means of simply resting and existing in a peaceful space. Always trying to get by, going through the tedious nine-to-five routine. You’re forgetting something but you have already succumbed to the idea that crashing onto your girlfriend’s place (once again) was a given, due to your sleepy state.

“Before you fall asleep on me, I got you this,” Sam shuffled on her seat as soon as you leaned against the car’s headrest, mindlessly fiddling with the sun pendant placed below your jugular notch. Sam got it for you a while back.

She reached at the back of the car and pulled a gorgeous bouquet arrangement. It was becoming a common occurrence every week, since you managed to make a deal with the woman. You had issues with being spoiled too much and Sam petulantly met you halfway, understood it, even if she acted like a kicked puppy. This was her alternative of spoiling you of love—amongst other things. Sam balanced her unconventional approach of romance through this, willing to give this traditional courting-like gesture another shot, not wanting to be too rough with you as it wasn’t an image she wanted to be fully attached to.

Another huge motivator for her was the discovery of your admittance when she came up with this unannounced, saying that the first and last time you received them was in high school and it was because of her. Sam can recall the time, unknowingly having missed the sight of you being tongue-tied and absolutely flustered. She loves how you glowed at this little gesture.

And now, Sam is eyeing you between like a meal to devour and the trace of gentleness is found on her hazel eyes, as always. Her fingers cradled under your jaw.

You can get used to this.

"But I'll miss you. didn't we plan movie night today?" A rare sight of Sam, pouting and tugging you close, was beyond endearing.

You almost felt bad. Pressing your lips against your girlfriend, you then lead her onto a chaste kiss. "I'm skipping just for tonight please? And it's not like I won't miss you too, either. because I certainly will."

"So smooth with your words."

"I've learned from the best."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. She didn't know whether she'd be pleased at this situation or not. Her issue lies from your current outfit, she thought it was too short. It didn’t help you were a walking vixen and dangerously unaware of it. The idea of you prancing around with filthy leering eyes following you all night? It made her blood boil.

That was already a job taken by her and hers alone.

Her grip loosened around your waist, turned into soft caressing. She beams at you, knowing it was your favorite sight and part of her.

"Mmm. Maybe it was bad that you were taking notes. Too much of it I'd say."

Your phone pings again, your friends were already telling you that they're on their way. A part of you detests to be away from Sam – but you think that your memory has gone oddly hazy and you cannot remember the last time you met up with your friends. You get out of your shared room but not without Sam hovering and sending you off with a kiss and personally driving you there.

Meanwhile Sam was somewhat pleased. Sure, she wanted all of your time, but she had to admit how she reveled in the way you have easily forgotten of her obsessive and conniving ways. Your girlfriend wouldn't let you out of her sight, of course. Constantly worried about your safety and a step ahead, decided to plant two men with a set of skills present on the scene; a safety net in case your fun night out changes its course, her gift of necklace served as an audio receiver and the expensive watch had a tracker.

What you hoped to be a good time, ended up on a terrible note. You disagree with your friends as you open up a few more details to them. It was all because of your curfew and they perceived your relationship with Sam as too intense. That was a given, right? It’s a love thing, you suppose. You fiddle with the necklace she gave you, pondering over how as though they didn't see Sam in the same light as you did. She wasn't borderline abusive. In fact, she had been greater than ever to you, more carefree, unrestrained and unfiltered. You feel it too, she was more relaxed and eager to disclose any information you wanted from her.

Now on your fifth drink? Or sixth? You scoffed and giggled. You were bummed because it took Sam a lot of convincing that you were going to be safe. That you had your own pepper spray with you and that nothing can happen with your friends beside you. It was good, refreshing even. Until it wasn’t.

“I’m just saying, you have to watch out for yourself. And we’re here. Anytime.”

“Are you sure you can trust her after that? She seems… pushy. Won’t take a no for an answer.”

“Seems too fast, (y/n). It won’t be bad if you raised your opinions every now and then, you know.”

It echoed once again to you. Sam was the best for you. Everything between you was consensual. You understood her ways, simply because it was how she was made. You can only imagine how several years of being moulded into a domineering leader with a strong gut have drastically shaped her, refusing to think of it further how you weren’t there for her.

You downed another shot and as you drank away your disappointment of your friends’ criticism of your girlfriend, a greasy man was already eyeing you.

Then you realize Sam's words from one of the nights you spent with her. She was right; these people in your circle wouldn't get it. Not as much as the two of you do.

Upon your realization, a man not so discreetly manoeuvres his way through you. You deny him but he was insistent. It was gross how he was a mouth breather, his stench hovering over you.

“The more the merrier, baby.” He didn't even believe that you had a girlfriend, in fact, he even grinned disgustingly at this information.

“You have one second before I call the fucking cops.”

“That’s a lame excuse–” He whined, looking away in disbelief thinking you were bluffing. “C’mon, I can make you straight… all it takes is a night with me,”

You took that chance to stealthily use your phone and clicked on speed-dial. You were surprised it connected to Sam instead of the cops. You don’t remember changing it although it was a better alternative, truthfully. With the initial shock, it override the rising suspicion from you; how your girlfriend set it herself.

Some men came over to assess what was happening. The greasy man rambled too much, far from convincing with how visibly uncomfortable you were. Thankfully, they came into your rescue. You hoped they were good guys. So far it seemed promising that they pushed the guy who was making you uncomfortable. They had a strong build and now were exchanging in a verbal disagreement. It was getting heavy that you had to step away and as soon as you bumped from someone at your back; it was your girlfriend, doe eyes swarmed comfort to your body.

“Get in the car, mi amor. It’s parked at the front. Lock the doors and wait for me there, hm?” She caressed your cheeks. You were clearly shaken up, still Sam was proud of how you nodded and tried your best to look at her. “I’ll handle this.”

Her thumb caressing gently on your hips, you look at her once again, to see not even the situation and what it holds for the man—but to see if she was truly alright. Sam reassures you again that it’ll be alright and focuses again on the man that had been bothering you.

Where the hell were your friends? Sam groaned lowly in frustration. It was good how she decided it was a good idea to wait out for you. Who knows what could have happened. She takes a glance at the man who added rain on your terrible drinking night-out. She lured him out. He was ecstatic, the idiot not even knowing his fate for tonight. Him trying to take advantage of you sealed it for himself.

Sam already figured that this would be easy, his throws starting on a terrible form, giving away how he didn’t have a proper knowledge of its basics. He might’ve been taller, but his lack of skill proved him to be useless. Sam immediately went for an opening, fist met his face then swoop his feet quite literally which hit his knees badly to the pebbled ground. He groaned out of pain, curses flowing out of his mouth.

“Please! I’ll do anything! Spare me, I haven’t- I didn’t even touch her!” He begged on his now decapacitated knees.

Sam quipped, “Should I be happy about that?”

“N-no, but–”

“You harassed her. Insisted on wanting to fuck her.”

Over a dim corner outside, Sam sighed and took out the silencer concealed in the back of her jeans, and personally shot him right in the head. She liked seeing her power over these people. Always begging for a way out, so desperate.

Her men didn’t even flinch, trained and desensitized. In another vehicle parked near to the scene, a few more men came out of it, dressed for clean up and quickly carried him out for disposal.

She didn't want things to be messy. But she had been listening to your entire conversation; unbeknownst to you that the necklace also served as a down low spy-like device for her. Sam was happy that you were quick to jump in her defense–how you trusted her. Frankly, she was afraid that her attitude and sense of ethics would be something you’d be disgusted with. Being proven otherwise, it warmed her heart, increasing her devotion tenfold if it were even possible at this point.

It was easy to lure you out of your circle of friends grasp. She thought of some point how useless your friends would be, now that you have her. Sam knows they’ll only add as a burden and mess.

As she drove the two of you back home, her free hand constantly rubbed random patterns on your exposed thigh. The streetlights were just as warm as your girlfriend’s touch. Her constant glances at you each time you were in red light. The reassuring smile that barely left her plump lips.

When you waited for her – you didn’t even care what could the man from the club could face. Was it terrible that you reveled in the high possibility of him being a dead meat?

One thing for sure is that you only had one good takeaway this evening.

With your parents out of the picture a long time ago, disapproving of your ‘lifestyle’, and siblings being far and preoccupied with their own lives — this was it for you: Sam is your family. Each time an emergency or a milestone happens to your life, only Sam is there for you, without fail.

You only needed her and she was more than enough.

"Tara wants to see you." Properly and not from afar as Sam instructed, the voice echoed in her mind. "Not today, because I want you all to myself right now. Some other time, maybe."

Your eyes crinkled. "When have you not? But yeah - I'm totally in. She was practically a baby when I last saw her." Both of you giggled at your remark.

You discovered another room in Sam’s house. Barely gone through all of them, you found out just now how she had a gaming area. Littered in between retro and modern game machines, and how it glowed differently from arcades, made it appear much inviting. Now in low lighting in the afternoon, you ended up playing pool with your girlfriend. It was a game you always sucked at; with your shitty aim and handling. Bad news for you, it’s Sam’s favorite and opposed to you, of course she was great at it.

Terribly cocky too.

Not that you minded, because she was attractive for how she flaunted it. She’s carefree with you, seemingly retracting to her playful self that gave her a youthful joy of a glow. With her dressed up in tight cycling shorts that were covered with a sweater around her midthighs; Sam looked appetizing.

Back to the game, your motor movements suffered. Each time you aim and thrust the pool stick, the ball bounced off like a fish - far from the pocket points. Missing the target was also a common mistake for you.

She laughed. “No, baby, you’re holding it wrong too.”

“How is it any different from yours?” You retort.

“It can be your posture as well and the pressure you apply when hitting. Don’t be mad now.”

Huffing, you were so close to breaking this pool stick. “Maybe if you showed me!”

Sam chuckled. She liked your adorable scrunch getting all focused to at least score a point. she gets from your behind, bodies now flushed. Her soft chuckling continues as she notices how you stiffened at the contact. It blows her mind, how years ago things were in reverse; it was her who always panicked at your comforting touch. she welcomed it, relishing each second, replaying the memory of times she missed you before meeting again. She beat herself up mentally at how different she should have approached it.

Sam shook her head, focusing on the present. she has you now and it's all that matters.

“You just have to…” She took your forearms in a grasp and smoothly ran them to your hands. “Hold it like that. Your other fingers for balance however, depend on your level of comfort. It’s a matter of practice–which is what we’re doing.”

“Is that so?” You tease her, turning your head enough to meet her face, hooded eyes greeting you. You feel Sam growing breathless much as you do.

Her hazel eyes had a specific glint to them. They beautifully shone and no doubt had a swirl of lust growing bigger onto them. You purse your lips to hide the spreading smile. Instead, you retaliate by leaning over the table exaggeratingly; practically bending over it. Sam could no longer hold back a small moan escaping her mouth.

It was a matter of a different game and Sam decides she’ll humor you.

However, it was proving to be a difficult task. You just had to rub your ass against her hips. Now practically enveloped by her, weight almost all into you. You wiggle a bit more. Then you felt something else. Fuck. Was she…packing?

She had a cocky smile now. It’s been a while since she has used this on you.

“Mmm, mi amor. And your aim? Don’t push it up like this,” She grabbed your hand to reenact it. The ball thumped as it bounced – showing how you usually hit. More of her weight was on you, her front deliciously pressed on your back. “I noticed you tend to do that.”

“Oh, do I?”

You were playing dumb now. Although, with skins inevitably brushing, it doesn't take long for the two of you to crumble and give in to do something with the tension.

“Fuck this.” Sam muttered, fingers digging on your thighs as she immediately hoisted you up to the pool table. Back of your thigh’s skin rubbed to the rough texture of its surface, somewhat adding to your gnawing hunger.

Sam was bouncing with excitement to take you in here. Mouths crashing in dire need of each other, she explored your mouth as though she hasn’t before, tugging your bottom lip until you tasted iron.

“Oh, oh… god,” you whimper.

Sam gawks at you with darkened eyes. “You think you can tease me like that?”

Your jaw slacked as Sam's teeth sunk in the skin of your neck, far from finished and continued by nibbling with pent up fervor, and the pleasure of her ministrations as the moans rolled off your tongue with ease. Her open mouthed kisses were messy against your skin but nevertheless, you welcomed her through arching your neck to give her more space to paint you red and purple.

Some of the balls clanked as you guys moved desperately, grinding on each other.

“Look at you.” She giggled and had your cheeks on a firm grip. “My pretty girl so eager to get fucked dumbly. Did you feel my cock earlier at your little tease of a show?”

You helplessly looked at her with half-lidded eyes, nodding.

“Yes, please…Sam,”

“Please what?” She mocked you, doe eyes filled with mirth. Her hands slowly moved from your cheek to your neck. Sam gives it a squeeze, making you hum in delight. “I won’t continue if you don’t use your words properly.”

“I…I want you to breed me, like you said months ago,” you murmured and looked away.

Blood rushed in your clit. You were throbbing in need and full of embarrassment. But it was the truth that you wanted to be fulfilled. You didn’t know it caught Sam in a surprise, her joy and libido had gone through the roof.

Sam relishes onto this, a wolfish smile on her features as she takes every inch of your skin with her lips and hands. And you? you can barely keep up, clung onto your girlfriend’s neck to gravitate yourself in the spiraling haze in your head, pretty sounds continuously tumbling off your mouth.

What you want, is what you’ll get.

You managed to take off your top, now almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.

“Good girl. So, so good. I knew you had it in you, mi amor.” You’re met with Sam’s patronizing smile. You gulp in excitement at the praise she’d given you. “You remember your safe word right?” She asked as her hands wandered, pulling your own shorts down and underwear. As you nodded, a predatory look was fixed on her face. “I’m going to make you forget it, I promise.”

Her irises were ignited with a newfound desire, turned you on your back and bent over as previously, against the pool table.

Sam stroked her strap and adjusted your legs. She wanted you wide and ready. Your slick was smeared on your innermost thighs and some of them formed with strings of your arousal, greeting her as she spread you out. God, she can’t wait to ruin you.

Without warning, the skin of your pulsating hole was being dragged out by the strap's length and all you can do is whimper loudly in complaint. The head teased you a little with her pace agonizingly slow. As she pulled out though it didn't last as she decided to ram the entire length back inside of you, absolutely filling you to the brim. You moaned as it burned inside of you. Sam reach on your tits for balance as she started thrusting, picking up a pace. With all things going on at once, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and face pressed against the rough surface.

"Wait... oh my god, fuck, wait!" You trembled underneath her, your palms outward against her the table, weakly attempting to push away determined Sam. "So- so big, Sammy, I don't... oh! d-don't think, I can't!" You deeply underestimated her cock. But reeling onto it was simply addicting that you felt conflicted.

“You can and you will. You wanted this, didn’t you (y/n/n)?” She mocks you again. Sam was right, you wanted this. “Whoring yourself to me, this is the least you can do. Fucking. Take. It.” Your girlfriend punctuated each of her words with a hard thrust, each time you swore that it went deeper into your walls.

Sam was spurred on with your erotic reactions. She wanted to see your limit, see you truly fall apart. For god’s sake, you were already dripping wet, gushing and smeared all over Sam’s cock and hips. Once she found a rhythm pleasing to you both, she moaned along you as the base also met her clit – sending shocks on her end as well.

You were so fucked out right now and an orgasm was ripped out of you so suddenly. “Nngh… oh!”

Breath heaving, you felt the wetness run down your legs. Sam slowed her movements and stayed deep inside of your walls. More liquid gushed out of you, mixed with your girlfriend’s fake cum. It felt heavy and so full inside of you that you can’t get enough. It was beyond gratifying and out of body experience.

“Another one, come on. I have to fill you up to the brim,” Sam whispered against your ear, white-hot that it sent shivers down your spine. Your hips surely will bruise after this, as she resumed pounding relentlessly against the fine wood. It also made you embarrassingly more wet, too. Her pounding didn’t falter at all, Sam’s own hips still at work.

“Fuck– I….Ah!” Your eyes were squeezed shut.

Sam took pride in your current state. She gripped you tighter on your lower back and the other firm on the edge of the table. Sheer sweat already covered the two of you and the pool table continued to shake, now no longer in a prim and proper placement; instead it was crooked due to the movements that were forced upon it. You were fucking like animals.

A vast incoherent mumblings came in a slew to you. Your head pressed against the table and tears came out of the corner of your eyes. Your ears weakly register the mean giggling of Sam. The erotic sound of the skin-to-skin slapping continued to fill the space of your room, synchronizing with the creaking sound of the table. With your mouth agape, you felt the shaft being thrusted in a different angle, the cock’s tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. Sam dug so deep into you that it made you dizzy already.

“Gonna fill you up real good,” Sam continued to penetrate you mercilessly, her aggressive and determined grunts vibrating pleasingly to your body and adding to the carnal state both of you were in. It was too easy to sliver her cock in and out of you now, fully lubricated given your sopping core. “My breedable little bitch. Fuck, I’d say you’re meant for this. Meant to take this huge cock, hm?” The stretch had you bucking your hips onto Sam, gyrating along her teasing thrusts in and out. “Tell me how good it feels. How I make you feel so good.” Her honeyed voice taunting you. Begging you.

You envision Sam’s words to your heart. If only it were possible, you wouldn’t mind a single bit of carrying her child. After all, there are countless good qualities that your girlfriend beautifully possesses.

“You… you feel so fucking good against me,” A strained, throaty moan tumbled out of you. Sam hummed in your validation. “O-only you can have me- do me like this, Sammy…”

With your reassurance, came the rocking feeling of being so full again. Now Sam doesn’t move an inch, refusing to do so and determined to keep all of it plugged inside of you. You’re sure that she has moulded her entire cock out of your warm walls, stretched it out with no hesitation until it explored undiscovered spots from before.

To your shock, Sam flipped you again. It was insane how she recovered so quickly. Almost buck naked she sat now on the pool table and made you come up to ride her properly. She’s met with barely a resistance on your pussy as she easily shoved it up again with no trouble, moaning loudly and growling possessively as the curve of her length faintly made its outline known to your lower tummy’s skin.

“God you look so beautiful with my cock inside of you.” Her grunts were vivid as Sam’s white hot breath directly hit your ears. You feel your core gush more wetness, body all feverish, loving how she's also desperate and enjoying this much as you do.

She needs you. She admires you. Sam wants all of you.

You bounced helplessly and cried some more, to the point that your safeword dangerously hovered on the tip of your tongue. Until finally, Sam emptied out her fake cum inside of you – some of them dribbling down and smeared some more. Both of you were heavily breathing and Sam balanced your bodies – yours being slumped and weak against her, breathing ragged and eyelids heavy. You were fully spent and satisfied.

“So beautiful. Are you alright, mi amor?” Sam asked in pure concern. The lust on her eyes slowly dissipated, soft and only focused on your current state.

“Y-yes,”

Then a person barges in. You’re pretty sure that it’s a man who just squealed. He caught the sight of you and your girlfriend in a compromising position. You jump slightly and it was a bad idea, because one: you are naked, and two: Sam was still nestled deep inside of you. She also grunted at your accidental rocking.

Your stomach churned as you and Sam sober up quickly. Of course, you didn't like being seen like this if it weren’t only for Sam’s eyes to perceive you unashamedly. As expected, Sam hurriedly covered you first – fast and most as she can, at least. Your back was turned away from the man who entered the room, facing the wall.

Meanwhile, Sam had her chin tilted up, seemingly exasperated. If it weren't for your comforting touch on her forearm, she's sure of combusting in a messier manner, sporting the intimidating signature look on her demeanor. She almost looked unrecognizable with her cold and unamused gaze.

"I instructed you to knock three times." Sam quipped with a deep voice. “The receiver was also there, was it not? You could have buzzed in and waited outside.”

"Miss Loomis.. I- I- I did, I knocked before—”

Being in closer proximity to her, you felt some wetness gush out of your pussy. Blood rushed on your cheeks, as you made the previously pristine and high-end of a pool table now all messy and coated of your fluid. You caught a sliver of Sam’s defined hipbones and lines in her abdomen were prominent more than ever. She tucked her strap back as she pulled the cycling shorts up as quickly as she could. The room felt still for what feels like hours.

"And is that enough? I strictly told you to never enter, especially when I’m with my partner."

Sam had a scrutinizing look over him. She’s more than fucking pissed. The mob boss has never seen his face before. It must've been a new recruit. If it were any other mistake, maybe Sam would have spared him.

But no, he had to walk in while you were naked.

She bent down to reach underneath the pool table. She retrieves a gun. Your eyes widen but she hushes you, reassuring that everything is fine. although her eyes expressed the clear fuming with her jaw clenched, you gulped at the sight.

Sam scoffed, she hated being messy in front of you. For her, increases the likely of you leaving her. "Don't turn around." She orders you still with gentleness lace on her tone. "I mean it. Just… stay here."

Okay, you're more than fine with the sight.

Definitely so wet and turned on.

Sam moves and so does the man. Out of the room, you hear a few clicks and the cocking sound of the gun – the metal, spring, and unlocking of the weapon and you don't look further than that. And with the door slightly ajar, there's a loud sound that clearly indicates a shot. It's quick and followed with a heavy thud. A clear shot has been made. Your eyes widened. It rang your ears a little but it soon faded.

"What the hell was that?"

"He's a dumb one, a new recruit." Your girlfriend replied blankly. She fluidly moves around the room and reaches for her phone, eyes not leaving your naked body. "I need you to do some cleaning up- uh huh. in here, near the living room- second one, yes." Then she quickly hung up.

"I hate being interrupted. He had to ruin it. Almost saw you, too. I'm sorry baby, but I had to finish him off.”

Sam sighed and rubbed her temple. She wasn't a fan of losing control in front of her beloved. Although this one tested her greatly, feeling an immense protectiveness, she didn't like one bit having any of her men seeing you in this vulnerable and naked state. Prancing around normally as though your sight isn't engraved in their filthy little dimwit brains. Now she worried only about your reaction; knowing your initial response was to run away, same as you did after opening up to her even then. She always pulled you close—held you tighter—whenever you did.

She left a tender kiss behind your ear. You were immediately flooded with comfort. Her touch had a tendency to numb your worries down. It was familiar and gentle. Were you afraid? Surprisingly, you were not.

Out of all times you’ve seen her ‘lose’ it – was seemingly always out of making sure that you're safe, free from worries, gives you enough room as much as she can (knowing that Sam cannot resist invading your personal space) and has done anything to harm you in any way.

Sure, she just killed in front of you. But now, you can care less – knowing what your girlfriend’s nature and work entails. Besides, she has done it in your honor. In a twisted way, you interpreted it as a sign of her unwavering commitment to you; that you’ve always been a family to her – one that she plans on building one with, anyway. So instead, you reach to cradle Sam’s cheek and pressed a lingering kiss on her irresistible burgundy lips.

“You have me, always. Don’t worry.” You profess to her - a promise you intend to keep.

Sam grinned, visibly relaxing. Finally you fully understood her viewpoint.

Does it make you equally sick? Who the hell knows.

taglist: @not-alesha, @women-lover-kisser , @bluetreecloud20 , @danniackerman , @natsbraids , @melissabarreraswife , @bratydoll , @fantasylandbitch , @rocknr0ll , @mokotodenis123 , @deliriosinrose , @red1culous , @jennasoneanonly , @gaylorvader , @pixielovers2account **i can't tag others? :[

#gg.writes #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam loomis #lesbian #wlw #fanfic #au #scream vi

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0cta9on · 1 year ago

Text

Unlikely Duet - 8

Length: 18k+ words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: First of all, thanks to @msafterhours for beta reading! This chapter wouldn't have been as good without your input :] TW: Violence and mention of blood. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter, it was a blast to write :> )

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Yuno’s POV

It’s weird. It’s a Monday, universally agreed to be the most hated day of the week, and yet, here I am, waking up with a smile on my face like it’s the most regular thing in the world. I had no weird dreams this time around, but that didn’t stop Minji from being the first person I thought about the second I opened my eyes. Whatever I said before about love being stupid, scratch that. I feel invincible.

After quickly getting ready, I head downstairs to see my dad cooking breakfast, an image I’m slowly getting used to. It feels comforting knowing someone cares enough about me to go through all the trouble of cooking a meal.

“Good morning, dad.”

“Good morning, Yuno. You seem happy this morning,” he smirks at me.

My face already aches, not used to smiling this much. “Yeah, just… excited for school, I guess,” I shrug.

“Mhm, sure,” he chuckles, sliding a plate of food towards me. “Eat up.” Right before I dig into my breakfast, I send a text to the group chat, asking Winter and Yujin if they want to meet up at the convenience store and walk to school together.

Winter: sure thing :)

Yujin: yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Actual food for breakfast, actual friends to walk to school with, and an actual crush I get to see at school? It’s only morning and already this day feels perfect.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

My heart thumps with anxiety while my parents sit across from me at the dining table, completely oblivious to the dread I feel in every fiber of my being. In order for me to survive at the banquet tomorrow, I need them to agree to let me bring a plus one. Specifically, I need them to let me bring Yuno, the one person they specifically told me to stay away from.

I inhale deeply, firming up my resolve as best as I can. “Um, Mother? Father?”

They both look up at me. “Yes, dear?” Mother answers.

“About the banquet tomorrow-” “Ah right, Ms. Park told me that Sunghoon is excited to see you again after so long. Isn’t that nice?”

I bite my tongue to keep myself from visibly cringing. “Right, um, I actually wanted to ask you if I could bring a friend to the banquet.”

They exchange looks at each other before turning back to me. “I don’t see why not. Who did you want to invite?”

“Um… Yuno.”

“Absolutely not!” Mother answers a bit too quickly. “We told you already that we don’t want you associating with that boy! Why don’t you bring any of your other friends, like Danielle, or even Hanni would be more acceptable than him.”

“Because, uh…” I need to think of a lie, something, anything that can convince them. “...Because he has an interest in the business,” I blurt out. Not my best work, but it’s better than nothing. Both of them furrow their brows, unconvinced, yet neither of them say a word, simply waiting for my explanation.

“I, uh, told him about the family business and he got so, um, inspired by your story that he wants to, uh, pursue a business degree in college.”

Their glares feel like spotlights, scrutinizing my every little move. Mother’s expression remains the same — bewildered and a little irked — but I can see the gears slowly turning in Father’s pensive gaze.

“I thought the banquet would be a good opportunity for him to make connections in the industry, y’know, just like how you want me to,” I continue. “You two always emphasize the importance of making strong connections in case I need help in the future, so why can’t I be the connection that helps Yuno?”

“Honey, we are not charity workers-”

“Wait,” Father says, turning towards her. “I think we should let him come.”

Both mine and my mother’s eyes grow wide in surprise.

“Really?” We say in unison.

“I’ve always had a firm belief in education, both in and out of the classroom. This banquet could be an opportunity for him to better himself. He clearly has no plans for the future otherwise.”

Mother opens her mouth to argue, but instead sighs and nods. “Fine, we will permit Yuno to come to the banquet.”

I almost can’t believe the words coming out of their mouths. My plan is actually going to work. I’m so happy I could cry.

“But,” she adds, “If he causes any trouble, we forbid you from seeing him outside of school, okay?”

“Y-yes, of course, I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble! Thank yo-”

“And I don’t want you sneaking off and being alone with that boy. We’ll have Sunghoon stick with the two of you the entire time.”

My ears start to ring like a massive bomb just dropped nearby.

“...W-what!?”

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

The morning sun warms my skin as I wait for my friends by the convenience store. Birds fly above, singing their spring song like gentle plucks of a violin, sonorous yet fragile. A clear sky hangs overhead, unblemished by smog or storm clouds. It almost feels like mother nature herself wants me to have a good day.

“Good morning, Yuno!”

“YUNOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Winter and Yujin appear in the distance, walking towards me.

“Hey,” I greet them with a wave. They both stop in their tracks, eyeing me with surprise. “...What?”

“You’re smiling,” Winter states as if it’s the most insane thing she’s ever seen.

I turn my head away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Y-yeah, so what?”

“Aw, Winter, you ruined it,” Yujin teases. “He looked so happy.”

I sigh. “...Let’s just go.”

Both of them chuckle, taking their spot on either side of me like it’s where they belong. For so long, I walked the same route to school alone every morning, yet today, it feels a little different. The colors on the buildings and the street signs seem so much more vivid, the air smells like fresh grass and blooming flowers, puddles and windows glisten like diamonds as they reflect the sun’s morning light. A part of me thinks that I’m dreaming again — when did the world look this beautiful? But the way Yujin nudges my side to show me a drawing he’s working on or the way Winter clutches onto my shoulder after almost tripping on nothing lets me know that all of this is real. The world that I used to hate waking up to is now a world that I can look at with a smile.

A real, genuine smile.

______________________________________________________________

As the three of us walk through the hallways of Evergreen, I feel the familiar stares of the other students, eyeing me like some kind of untamed beast that could jump out at them at any moment. Even with everything else changing around me, I can always count on high schoolers to be ever stagnant and predictable in their behaviors. Although, something in their eyes feels a little peculiar. Instead of just fear, there’s something else hiding behind it. Intrigue? Admiration? Maybe these rose-tinted lenses are starting to make me see things.

“P-people sure d-do stare a lot, h-huh?” Winter asks, her voice shrinking to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I guess they do.” I glance back at them, both their gazes glued to the ground, clearly not used to the unwanted attention. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you guys.”

“It’s okay, Yuno, it’s not your fault,” Yujin reassures me.

“Y-yeah, I’m sure w-we’ll get used to it,” Winter adds with a small grin. Man, what did I do to deserve these two?

The five minute warning bell rings, sending the students still left in the hallways in a hurry. I say my goodbyes to Winter and Yujin as we part ways, enduring the usual stares and hushed voices as I make my way to my seay in the back. Still, something feels odd about the way they’re looking at me today. I try to meet their eyes to get a better look, but everyone keeps looking away, pretending like they weren’t whispering about me to their friends. If this keeps going on for the rest of the day, I’m gonna be pissed.

“Yuno Lin to the principal’s office, Yuno Lin to the principal’s office. Now,” the PA system announces, giving me a wave of deja vu. I have a couple guesses for what this could be about…

______________________________________________________________

Instead of coming out the gate swinging, Mr. Geier just sits at his desk, his hands clasped in deep thought. Normally, I would be pretty indifferent to whatever he has to say, but after everything Minji said to me, I suddenly feel guilty sitting in front of him. It probably isn’t easy dealing with my shit on a weekly basis.

“So…” he starts, finally looking up at me after a few minutes of silence. “I’m sure you know why you’re in here, Yuno.”

“Yup…”

He sighs. “The McGraw’s donate a lot of money to this school. They didn’t exactly take well to receiving a call that their son was found unconscious in the bathroom with a broken nose.”

Ah shit. This is it. The consequences of my actions have finally caught up to me. Fate, you cruel bastard, making me wake up in a good mood for the first time in years, only to send me to jail before the day even starts. Goodbye dad, Yujin, Winter, and Minji. Minji…

“But…”

But…!

“...They’ve decided not to press charges.”

“What!?” I exclaim, relieved and deeply confused.

“We received a tip from one of the boys on the football team that Tyler had been bullying a group of freshman boys for months. They still wanted to press charges anyways, but I may have… insinuated that if they did, I would ensure Tyler could only set foot into a community college at best.”

My eyes widen, slowly connecting the dots. “Did you…?”

“No, it was not for you,” he states matter-of-factly. “It was for the sake of all the freshmen that suffered because of him.”

“R-right.” I sink back into my chair, feeling sheepish. “So… what happens now? Detention? Suspension?”

“No, I have something else in mind for you.”

Just then, the door to Mr. Geier’s office swings open, sending in a wave of lavender and rainbows into his office as the girl of my dreams walks through.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Geier?” Minji says before turning to me, a quizzical look in her eyes.

“Perfect timing, Minji,” he says, “This is Yuno Lin. Yuno, this is Minji Kim, the student council president.”

Minji shoots me a confused look, but I’m too distracted by her beauty to pay full attention. Her hair is in a ponytail today with two strands of hair framing her perfect face. The sound of my thumping heart gets louder in my ears, drowning out whatever Geier is saying. Hopefully it’s not anything important. What could be more important than Minji? God, she’s so pretty, I-

“Yuno, are you paying attention?” Mr. Geier snaps at me.

“S-sorry, what?” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Minji stifling a giggle, making my cheeks burn red.

“As I was saying, your punishment will be to help Minji with prom preparations. Whatever she asks you to do, you do it. If you cause any trouble for her, she’ll report it to me and you will face the consequences, understand?”

You mean I get to spend more time with Minji? As a punishment? “Yup, I understand,” I say, trying not to look too eager.

“Good.” He turns towards Minji. “Just make him lift the heavy stuff or something. He can be a handful, but he, uh… He means well.” How sweet, Geier. I’m blushing.

“That shouldn’t be much of a problem,” she says, smirking. “We’ve actually met bef-”

“U-uh, it’s nice to meet you for the first time ever, Ms. President!” I exclaim, shoving my hand towards her before she can utter another word. If Geier finds out that his “punishment” is more like a “blessing” for me, he’ll probably give me some other grunt work to deal with.

Minji awkwardly shakes my hand, giving me a curious expression. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you too, Yuno.” The feeling of her soft hand against mine beats out any kind of embarrassment I should be feeling right now.

“Alright, you can head back to class now, Minji,” Mr. Geier dismisses her. She gives me a small yet bewildered grin before exiting his office, leaving me alone with the principal yet again. My gaze lingers towards the door even after it closes, wishing she’ll pop back in for a few more seconds.

“So,” he begins, taking me out of my daydreams. “You got lucky. Extremely lucky. However, that doesn’t mean you can keep doing this and expecting to get out scot free just because I stick my neck out for you. There are rules here, and I understand that you may not agree with those rules, but they are there regardless, which means you must follow them just like everybody else. No more playing vigilante just because you can, you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand. I’m sorry.”

“I- you what?” He asks, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Uh, I said I understand and I’m sorry,” I reiterate sheepishly.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good. As long as you understand.” It’s almost offensive just how shocked he is, as if I didn’t know my own actions were wrong. I might be stubborn, but I’m not stupid.

“I’m going back to class,” I state, getting up from my chair. Right before I exit his office, I turn to Geier one last time. “Uh, my dad is doing better now.”

He looks up at me, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. “Really? That’s great to hear, Yuno.”

I give him a nod before shutting the door behind me. I’m not sure what exactly compelled me to tell him that, just a hunch that told me it was the right thing to do at the moment. Geier did ask about him last time, so it only makes sense. I guess.

As I turn the corner, I catch Minji leaning against the wall right outside of Geier’s office. Was she waiting for me?

“Oh. Hey,” I greet her with a small wave. “Hey!” She says, flashing me a smile that could bring about world peace. “What did Mr. Geier talk to you about? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“It was about the, uh… thing that happened with Tyler.”

“Ah, right. So his idea of a punishment for you is to be around me? Ouch,” she jokes. We walk through the halls together despite not sharing the same first period (or any period for that matter). A weird energy hangs in the space between us, like a balloon threatening to pop if either of us get too close. My mind tiptoes on the fence between pushing my luck or staying in a comfortable space. In the end, I throw caution to the wind and close the gap just a little.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it’s a punishment at all,” I say, thinking out loud.

“That’s very kind of you, Yuno,” she chimes, a hint of pink gracing her cheeks. Simply being around her is making my heart pound like crazy. Can she hear it? God, I hope not. How am I supposed to control myself when she’s this cute? I just want to-

“Oh!” Minji suddenly stops and points at my face. Shit, was I thinking out loud again? Is she secretly psychic and can hear all my thoughts this whole time?

“W-what?” I ask, flustered.

“You’re smiling.”

I awkwardly clear my throat, wiping the smile off my face. “Y-yeah, so what? Am I not allowed to smile?”

She giggles at me. “No, you’re allowed to smile. In fact, I think you should smile more often, I rarely ever get to see you smile.”

“W-whatever,” I mutter, trying to hide the growing blush on my face. “About the banquet tomorrow, is there a dress code or something? I, uh, don’t own a suit,” I ask, changing the subject.

Minji’s expression suddenly darkens as a dejected sigh floats from her lips. “Oh right, the banquet…” she groans.

“S-sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, it’s fine,” she assures me. “My parents just told me this morning that if I’m gonna bring you along, the guy I’m trying to avoid has to stick around us the whole time, rendering my whole plan basically useless.”

“This guy you’re trying to avoid, is he, um….” I gulp nervously. “...your ex?”

“Ew! Oh my god, no!” Minji exclaims. “He’s the son of my parents’ business partners. He used to be a complete menace towards me when we were kids until he moved away during middle school. Oh my god, the thought of us ever dating is just…” Her entire body shivers in disgust.

I try my best to appear neutral, but inside, fireworks are going off in my head. It’s like Christmas came early this year. I have to physically fight off another smile from growing on my face.

“So, what are we gonna do now? Maybe…” I search my mind for another possible solution for her problem, but only one comes up, and frankly, it’s the best possible case for her and the worst possible case for me. I sigh in disappointment. “...maybe I just shouldn’t go.”

Her gaze shoots up at me. “What?”

“If I don’t go, then you won’t be forced to be around him the entire time,” I explain.

“But I-”

“I’ll probably stick out like a sore thumb anyways, being in a room full of a bunch of rich business people. Your parents already don’t like me, what would they all think of me being around you? Maybe it’s best if I don’t go-”

“Stop!” She suddenly exclaims, a fire burning in her irises. “I invited you because I want you to go, okay? Screw my original plan, screw everyone who judges you, and especially screw Sunghoon! You’re my friend and I want you to be there, don’t worry about all that superficial nonsense.” Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, carrying the determination of her words. No wonder people voted for her as student council president, a speech like that could move anyone to action.

After a short pause, I concede. “...Okay, I’ll go.”

A smile replaces the serious expression she had, sending my heart into another frenzy. “Thank you, Yuno. All you have to do is enjoy yourself, don’t worry about scaring him off or anything dumb like that.”

Enjoy myself. At a banquet. That I certainly don’t belong in. Sure, I can do that.

“I should probably head back to the student council room, I still have a lot of work to do,” she says. “I, um… I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll see ya later.” And just like that, Minji disappears down the halls, leaving me standing here like a fool in love. The warmth in my chest feels like it’s gonna get hotter and hotter until I explode. I desperately hope she needs my help with prom preparations later.

______________________________________________________________

The presence of a substitute would normally mean all chaos ensues, but the odd tension hanging in the air during English practically suffocates any chances of socialization. I didn’t exactly mind nor care, but the silence only made the nervous glances towards me even more obvious. Furthermore, thanks to Tyler’s “disappearance”, his friends on the other side of the room don’t even try to hide their accusatory pointing and disdainful glares. Their sentiments aren’t exactly wrong, but it’s still annoying being on the receiving end of them. Surely, they know better than to start any dumb shit right now.

And yet, I’m unsurprisingly proven wrong as one of them, a tall boy with blonde hair (is his name Connor? Colton? I have no clue), stomps towards me with fury in his eyes.

“Hey,” he growls at me, “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to Tyler, would you?”

A sigh escapes me. Welp, that’s what I get for getting my hopes up. “Is he not here today? I had no idea,” I mutter, not giving him so much as a glance.

He slams his fist into my desk, causing everyone to look back at the commotion with fearful glances, including Winter. I shake my head reassuringly at her, but unfortunately, Tyler’s friend notices this and scoffs to himself.

“Behind the gym during lunch. Don’t be late.” He glances in Winter’s direction with a smirk on his face. “Or else.”

My fingernails dig into my palms as I ball my fist up in anger, my heart pumping with anger. For the first time since he came over, I glare at him, watching his cocky facade crack in front of my eyes as he scurries back to his little group with his tail in between his legs.

Dammit. God fucking dammit. Is it so hard for me to have one good day without having to deal with anyone’s shit? I notice Winter still staring at me with a worried look, so I conjure up my best convincing smile. She nods and turns back to her book, but I’m not sure if it ends up working.

It’s clear that he wants a fight. Of course he wants a goddamn fight.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno: I won’t be at lunch. I have something I need to deal with.

I send the text to the group chat as I pace around, waiting for Tyler’s goons to show up. The area behind the school’s gym is basically a cesspool for rule breaking; half the concrete is covered in cigarette butts, glass shards, and other mysterious stains from other’s unseemly activities that I’d rather stay unaware of. It’s a wonder how none of the teachers look back here with how often students frequent this place.

Finally, the boy from English class (Kayden? Kenneth? It starts with a K sound, I know that much) appears, alongside a dozen other boys that I’ve seen hanging around Tyler. A few of them are unarmed, but most are carrying broken mop handles. One guy has a pocket knife, so that’s something at least.

“Hey fuckface!” The blonde boy yells. “You think you can mess with Tyler just because you think you’re all high and mighty? Well, newsflash pal, you’re not!”

“Yeah!” His entourage cheers him on.

This is comical. These guys attend a high school in the suburbs, and yet they’re parading around like a bunch of wannabe gangsters. Did they rehearse their lines or something? Why does he talk like a movie bully from the 1950s? It’s taking every fiber of my being not to burst out laughing right now.

“You made a big mistake pal, and we’re gonna make you regret-”

“Fuck, alright!” I groan in annoyance. “Are we doing this or not?”

I stretch my arms, loosening myself up as they timidly inch closer with their little sticks pointed towards me. This could be over in the blink of an eye if I want it to, but I promised Minji I would stop fighting, so I won’t. Not exactly sure what that means, but I’m not exactly known for planning these things out.

I’m not a fighting expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve been in enough to recognize certain patterns. Shaky eyes. Quivering breath. Their knuckles burning white as they clench their fists too hard to compensate for the fact that they have no idea what they’re doing. With each step they take, it only becomes more apparent how downright terrified they are. I almost feel bad for them.

It’s not like I wanted this either, but I brought this upon myself of my own volition. These guys could have said no and went about their day, living their regular high school lives, but instead, they’re rallying behind some guy they’re probably not close with just for a measly ounce of street cred they get for “showing their loyalty,” effectively reducing themselves to lap dogs that get the “privilege” of calling themselves popular. I’m not doing this for street cred or privilege or any of that bullshit that they care too much about. I’m doing this because the asshole that they’re rallying behind threatened my friend.

Inevitably, one of them gets brave enough to make the first move. He swings his stick, hollering at the top of his lungs, and misses wildly as I dodge to the side. The next guy gets lucky, breaking his stick against my arm as I block the side of my head. My arm stings like hell, but I can’t focus on that for too long before the rest of them start getting confident and lunging at me.

Even in the midst of the frenzy, as I dodge a swing aimed towards my head or suffer a kick to the stomach, all I can think about is Minji. I made a promise to her, one I have no intention of breaking. Rather than a fight between me and the dozens of Tyler’s lackeys, it feels more like a fight between me and my instincts, actively trying to suppress the years of bad habits just for Minji. A part of me feels stupid for doing it - it’s not like she’ll ever see this anyways - yet I continue to subdue my instincts, even if it means sustaining a couple brutal blows to the body.

One of the bigger guys in the group tackles me to the ground, taking the wind out of me as my back collides with the hard concrete. My ears start to ring as he lands two solid punches to my cheek. I flail my hands wildly to the side, desperate for something to grab, before landing on a pile of broken glass. Ignoring the blood rushing to my palms, I chuck the shards at his face. He yelps in pain, allowing me to push him off and get back to my feet. Before I can even blink, my head begins to spin as another punch sends me careening towards the brick wall. Warm blood leaks through my lips, staining my shirt. Two more guys stand over me before hoisting me up by my arms.

I’m fucking exhausted. My vision is blurry and the ringing in my ears grows louder by the second. Each inhale burns just a bit hotter than the last. I’m covered in blood again, but this time, it’s all my own. Every cell in my body screams at me for getting into this situation in the first place, berating me for my own stubbornness. Yet the blonde boy, Kyle or whatever the fuck his name is, stands in front of me unscathed, not even a drop of sweat on his brow. The rest of his buddies are on the ground, breathless and covered in injuries they got from tripping over each other. I cough out a weak chuckle, sending a jolt of pain through my chest.

“W-what the fuck are you laughing at?!” Even his threats are starting to get shaky.

“Just funny… You called me out here… Yet… You didn’t do shit…” I mutter. “Fucking… coward…”

The fury ignites in his eyes, the same one present when he first called me out in English. He grabs a broken mop handle off the ground and swings it overhead, aiming for my face. This is it. Started this day off with a smile, and look where I’m at now. In the back of my mind, I always knew I would go out like this. It’s a shame this had to happen after I finally found something to look forward to. With a shallow breath, my eyes flutter shut as I unwillingly accept my fate.

Suddenly, a loud siren blares through the air. The stick that was sailing towards my head mere seconds ago now clatters to the ground. Mr. Geier pops up from behind the building with a megaphone in his hand, alongside two teachers, Winter, Yujin, Danielle, and Minji.

“What the hell are you doing!? Put him down NOW!” Geier yells through the megaphone. I collapse to my knees as the two idiots drop me to the ground. A mix of emotions swirl through my head, but the sense of relief shines clearest through the storm. The fact that I’m alive almost makes everything feel more painful.

As the teachers reprimand the other guys, Minji and the others rush over to me, their overlapping voices of worry combined with the ringing in my ears making it impossible to make out anything. I want to tell them that it’s fine, I made it out alive. In a shit ton of pain, but alive nonetheless. No words come out. My vision is starting to blur again. Minji’s face is the last thing I see before everything turns to black.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

I lean back in my chair, stretching my arms as I let out a long, exhausted sigh. It feels like no matter how much progress I make with prom, there’s still a whole mountain of things I still need to do.

Danielle walks through the door of the student council room, carrying a pile of papers with her. I nearly burst into tears just looking at the size of the stack.

“Relax,” she says reassuringly, reading my expression. “These are all taken care of.”

I slide farther into my chair, releasing a deep breath. “Oh thank god, I don’t think I can handle doing anymore paperwork.”

She grins, taking a seat next to me. “The principal approved the caterers and our ‘Red Carpet’ theme, I informed the club leaders to start working on their floats for the prom parade, and Woohyuk and Julie from the art club agreed to paint a mural in the gym. All we have left to do is pick a venue, find a DJ, and prepare decorations.”

“You say that like it’s an easy thing to do.” I sigh, resting my head on the table while Danielle merely shrugs her shoulders. A couple minutes of silence pass, both of us exhausted and overwhelmed by the ever growing pile of work. “Are Woohyuk and Julie dating?” I ask, making small talk.

“I think so. They seem to have gotten a lot closer after the school festival, and they wouldn’t stop shooting each other heart eyes when I asked them to paint the mural. It was sickening,” she jokes.

Dating in high school always felt like an enigma to me. Statistically speaking, only 20% of couples last until college, and only 10% ever get married. High schoolers are the most emotional, stubborn, immature, and hormonal people on the planet (according to my parents), why would you want to date someone like that? But it’s not like I don’t want to date… I just never had the chance to. I would be lying if I said I don’t look at couples walking arm-in-arm through the halls with some kind of envy. Wouldn’t it be nice to go through the struggles of your teen years with someone that understands you because they’re going through the exact same thing? I say that, and then I look out the potential dating pool at Evergreen, only to be reminded of why I haven’t dated anyone. I mean, there is one guy I wouldn’t mind dating…

“Why do you ask?” Danielle says, interrupting my train of thought.

“U-uh nothing, just curious.” My cheeks suddenly flare up with heat as she leans forward, scrutinizing my expression.

“Are you thinking about that boy again?

My eyes go wide as I shake my head profusely. “W-what, no! Why would I be thinking about Yuno?”

“Because I didn’t even mention a name, yet your mind automatically went to Yuno.” She raises her eyebrows in an ‘I told you so’ expression, causing me to shrink in my chair. “Are you really gonna fall for someone like that just because he saves your purse from a thief?”

“I told you I—Huh? How do you know about that?”

Danielle takes her phone out and pulls up a video from a local news account titled, “Heroic Man Stops Mall Purse Thief.” My eyes grow even wider as the video plays, showing Yuno tackling the thief who stole my purse and the… awkward hug I gave him afterwards. Apparently, someone had recorded the entire altercation and uploaded it to social media. It now has…

“Five million views?!” I exclaim. That explains all the weird looks I’ve been getting today. I faceplant into the table, my face burning with a fire of a thousand suns. So that means the entire school saw me… hugging Yuno… I mean, why do I feel so embarrassed in the first place? Hugging is a perfectly normal way to show gratitude towards someone. He got my purse back, so a hug seems pretty normal, right? It’s not like people are gonna assume we’re dating. Not that I have any problem with dating him, it’s just…

I let out a sigh. “Danielle…” I groan, my voice muffled by the table.

“Hm?” I feel her gently pat my shoulder in support. I lift my head, turning towards her.

“What do I do?”

She tilts her head at me, confused. “Do you want them to take the video down?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s… I don’t know. I’m so lost. There’s a lot going on with prom and my parents, it feels like I’m being tossed back and forth in a tornado with nothing around to hold onto for support. There’s things that I want to do that seem so… impossible given the circumstances. I wish I could freeze time just so I could have a moment to myself to think.” I slump back onto the table in defeat while Danielle continues to rub my shoulder.

Compared to the rest of the girls, Danielle is the most logical one. Hanni does everything she can to cheer me up, Haerin lends an ear and a shoulder to cry on no matter what, Hyein is always there to show me the brighter side of things, and Danielle is prepared with an easy 3-step solution to virtually any of my problems. If I’m drowning in a sea of doubt and anxiety, I know she’ll be there with a spare life vest and an intricately made wooden raft to hoist me out of the water. But not even she has the answers to everything.

Suddenly, the door to the student council room swings open.

“We need help,” a familiar voice shoots through the door. “Quickly.”

Yuno’s friends stand in the doorway panting, worry painted on their faces. Winter looks like she’s on the verge of tears while Yujin’s normally cheery disposition is hauntingly absent.

“What’s wrong?” Danielle asks.

“I-I’m not sure, b-but I think h-he’s in a fight right n-now, behind the g-gym,” Winter answers, her voice breaking.

A fight? N-no… What if he gets hurt?

I hurriedly jump to my feet, my mind racing. “Danielle, Yujin, go get Principal Geier. Winter, come with me,” I command, panic evident in my voice. The four of us promptly leave the student council room, with Danielle and Yujin diverging to the principal’s office while Winter and I walk briskly towards the gym.

“Tell me everything. What do you mean Yuno might be in a fight?” I ask her.

“D-during English, Cameron w-went up to Yuno and he looked r-really angry. I-I couldn’t hear everything th-they were saying, but it s-sounded like he told him to m-meet behind the gym during l-lunch,” she explains. I pick up the pace, adrenaline pumping through my body. With each passing step, all I can think about is one thing.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

______________________________________________________________

As we turn the corner to the back of the gym, my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach while my breath gets completely sucked from my lungs. Two boys hold up Yuno’s limp body as a third prepares to swing a stick straight towards his head. I wanna scream, I wanna run to him and make sure he’s okay, but my entire body stays frozen in place. Why does it have to be Yuno? Why couldn’t it be anyone else? I was just talking to him a few hours ago, he was fine. He was smiling. I wish I could see that smile on his face again. Please.

“M-Minji,” Danielle softly calls out my name, wiping the tears off my face with concern in her eyes. I didn’t even realize I was crying. She holds me as I uncontrollably sob into her shoulder, my heart aching with an indescribable pain. It feels like I’m being torn apart from the inside. I need him to be okay. Please.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she says, patting my arm. I look up from her shoulder, wiping away my tears, to see Yuno collapse to the floor. Mr. Geier and the other two teachers with us yell at the rest of the boys to line up against the wall using harsh language I’ve never heard him say before. The four of us get down by his side, desperate to make sure he’s okay.

“H-he’s fine, right? He’ll be okay, right? D-Dani?” Yujin asks, his voice quivering as he looks up at her for reassurance.

“Just, um, give him some room to breathe for now.”

“Y-Y-Y-Yuno…” Winter’s entire body shakes as she weeps into her hands. I should comfort her. I’m the student council president, it’s my responsibility to make sure everyone’s okay. But my own tears won’t stop flowing as I gently cup his cheek, swollen and red with cuts. You were awake earlier. Your eyes were open and you were smiling. Please wake up. Please smile again, Yuno. Please.

“Guys, we have to take him to the nurse, now!” Mr. Geier exclaims, grabbing Yuno by the arms. “Help me get his legs up!”

The three of them lift up his legs while I’m still too busy crying to help. My body is moving, following close behind them, but my mind is too muddled to properly process anything. The next few minutes are nothing but a blur of hallways and odd stares from students exiting the lunch room. I don’t care. I don’t care about what other students think of Yuno. I don’t care about what my parents think of him. I don’t care about what people at the banquet will think of him. All I care about is him and making sure that he’s okay.

Once we arrive at the nurse’s office, they gently lay his body on one of the cots. I sit down next to him, just staring at his face. His chest slowly rises and falls with breath. That’s good. He’s breathing. He’s alive.

Mr. Geier says something to us that I can’t quite make out. All of their voices fade into the background of my mind like nothing was ever said in the first place. Mr. Geier leaves, with Winter and Yujin following soon after. Danielle sits down next to me and says something, but I’m too distracted to listen right now. She ends up leaving soon too. All I can do is sit here and wait for him to wake up. Please wake up soon. Please.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

My eyes blink open to a blotchy field of grays and blacks. I try to sit up, but a stabbing pain shoots through my entire body. Every breath feels like hell to get through. Memories of what happened moments before I passed out come back to me. I almost got my skull busted open, and then there was this loud siren. I thought I saw Minji before I passed out, but I’m not too sure. Fuck, my body hurts like hell. Where am I anyways?

As my vision begins to focus, I see the familiar fluorescent lights of the school glaring back at me. I finally sit up, doing my best to ignore the pain in my back, and look around - the nurse’s office. The school’s nurse, a skinny woman with giant glasses and violently pink scrubs, sits at her desk and types away at her computer, oblivious to my consciousness. I consider saying something to let her know I’m awake, but my throat is too dry to produce any noise.

I turn to my left and my heart stops in my chest. Minji is lying on the cot next to me, sleeping peacefully. I start to wonder if this is all just another weird dream, but as I reach out and gently brush the hair from her face, the soft skin of her cheek feels too real. Even when she’s sleeping, she’s so beautiful. But… Why is she here?

“Oh good, you’re awake,” the nurse says, rising from her desk. I quickly retract my hand from Minji’s face. “Principal Geier explained everything that happened. How are you feeling?”

I stretch my limbs, testing how much I can withstand the pain before it becomes unbearable. “Could be better, but I’m alive and breathing at least,” I say. “Uh, what is she doing here? Did she get hurt?” My voice raises slightly as I gesture to Minji’s sleeping form. If those fuckers did anything to her, I’m gonna-

“I think she’s fine. She came in with you and wouldn’t move or speak, even after Principal Geier told the rest of the kids to get back to class. She just sat there, watching over you until she fell asleep,” the nurse explains.

I sign in relief, thankful that she’s not hurt, but the nurse’s explanation only produces more questions. Why didn’t she leave? I’m sure she’s busy with a million other things, watching over me will only set her back even more. It’s not like this is the first time this kind of thing has happened to me. Something similar happened right before I met Minji. I’ll feel like shit for a few days, but I’m relatively fine.

So why did she stay?

The nurse pats my shoulder, handing me an ice bag. “I have to go, some kid threw up in the library, just put this wherever you feel like it. Will you and your girlfriend be fine here alone?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “She’s not m- Uh, sure, we’ll be fine.”

She exits the room, leaving me alone with Minji. The silence gives me a moment to get my thoughts straight as the ice bag partially soothes my headache. Her face is so still and peaceful, I slow down my breaths despite the pain just so I don’t wake her up. The last time I saw her face like this was when we slept in the same bed after she almost got attacked in front of the convenience store. My heart still burns with anger at the thought of Minji nearly getting hurt. I want to protect her. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, I want to be there for her in any way I can. In the short time I’ve known Minji, it feels like I’m becoming a better person, or maybe I’m just becoming more and more foolish. I don’t know. Feelings are confusing.

Minji’s eyes suddenly flutter open, and as soon as they meet mine, she jumps up, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. “Y-you’re awake! Oh my god, you’re awake!” She sobs into my shoulders. I completely freeze in her arms, the surprise overtaking the pain.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Minji. Are you okay?” I ask, awkwardly patting her back. She separates from me, tears overflowing from her eyes. With each drop that falls, I feel my heart crack into a billion pieces, this pain worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. Hesitantly, I wipe away her tears with my uninjured hand, making sure my movements are gentle.

“H-hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” She takes a moment to calm down, sinking her cheek into my palm as she controls her breathing. I don’t dare move my hand, even after most of the tears stop flowing.

“I-I was… so worried… that y-you wouldn’t… wake up…” She stutters in between sniffles. “I-I thought you w-were… th-thought you were… dea-”

“I’m okay, Minji,” I interrupt her, afraid she’ll start bawling again if she finishes her sentence. “U-um, please stop crying. I’m okay.”

She takes one more deep breath before sitting back down, regretfully moving my hand from her cheek. We sit in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. She cried after getting attacked by the convenience store, but this time seems different. This time, she wasn’t crying for her, she was crying for me.

“Wait here,” Minji mutters before getting up and walking over to the sink in the corner of the room. I watch silently as she pulls out a few things from the cupboard and fiddles with the sink for a moment before walking back over to me. She gently places a bowl of water and a hand towel next to me before taking out a juice box and poking a straw through the top.

“Here.” She brings the straw to my lips, making me flinch slightly.

“Oh. Thanks.” I take it from her, drinking it as she dips the towel into the water and gently tends to my cut up hand. My body recoils from her touch more than the pain itself. It still feels foreign to me, being cared for like this. Never in a million years did I imagine someone like Minji Kim to pop into my life. She’s way too good for me. What good would I be as her boyfriend? What good am I as her friend for that matter? I don’t want to be a nuisance in her life. I want- No, I need to be better. For her.

She finishes wrapping the gauze around my hand. “Is that okay? Not too tight?” She asks, her voice slightly hoarse from crying.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Thanks.” I look at her, meeting her eyes. “You didn’t have to do this. You should’ve just left-”

“Why did you get into another fight? I thought you said you wouldn’t fight anymore.” Her tone turns stern, softly reprimanding my decisions.

“I didn’t fight,” I assure her. “If I didn’t show up, they were gonna go after Winter, but I promise, I didn’t try to hit them or anything.”

“So you just let them beat you up!?” Minji shoots me a look of disbelief, tears welling up in her eyes.

“N-no! I-I dodged and stuff, they just got a few lucky hits in!” I hastily try to explain myself, hoping she doesn’t cry again. In hindsight, it sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud. I went to the back of the gym, fully expecting there to be a crowd of people wanting to kick my ass, and the only plan I had was to… not fight? Even if I did make it out fine, did I just expect Minji not to say anything about the sudden abundance of injuries all over my body? God, I’m such a dumbass.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone!? A-a teacher!? Principal Geier!? Me!?” The look of outrage alone is enough to make me feel like a child getting scolded by their parents. My gaze falls to the ground, hiding my embarrassed blush.

“I, uh… I didn’t think of that…” I shamefully admit. She sits next to me, sighing into her hands. Seconds stretch into entire years as tense silence overtakes the room. Even my own breathing feels comparable to a car engine with how quiet everything is.

My entire body freezes as I feel Minji rest her head on my shoulder. Her silky black hair tickles my neck while the scent of her lavender perfume wafts through my nose, giving me visions of running through a clear field full of nothing but lavender stems. “Do you know why I’m mad at you?” She asks, her voice surprisingly mild.

“Uh, because I’m… stupid?”

She chuckles lightly at my half-joke. “You’re not stupid. What you did was stupid, but no, that’s not why I’m mad.”

“Because, uh… I didn’t talk to you first?”

“Bingo.” She lifts her head up to look at me. Her face is close, I can feel the warmth emanating from her soft cheeks. “I know you wanted to protect Winter, but you ended up getting hurt in the process. If you had just gone to a teacher, those boys would’ve been reprimanded without you having to get hurt.”

“They would not have been reprimanded-”

“Okay, fine, they probably wouldn’t have been seriously reprimanded without any solid evidence,” she concedes. “But that doesn’t mean you should go through these kinds of things alone. Your friends were worried sick about you. And I…” Her voice cracks like delicate porcelain. “...I was worried sick about you.”

I gulp, finally feeling the weight of my actions. For years, everything I’ve done has only affected me. I never had to second guess anything. But things are different now. I have people around me that care about my well-being, which means all of my actions have some kind of effect on them. This whole thing sprouted from me wanting to protect a friend, but in the end, they got hurt because of me.

“I’m sorry, Minji. For being stupid and not talking to you and letting myself get hurt.”

She nods, offering an appreciative grin. “Next time something like this happens, just text me first so I can at least try to talk you out of it, okay?”

How could I ever say no to a face like that? “Okay.”

Minji’s smile widens, and like a mirror, I can feel my own lips curling to reflect her joy. She’s so… amazing, unreal even—like someone plucked a princess straight from a fairy tale and placed her right in front of me. Kind, caring, courteous, beautiful, strong, intelligent, absolutely perfect in every way possible that it almost feels unfair. I might be fated for nothing more than an early grave, but for once, I want to defy fate and entertain the possibility that something good could happen to me. Maybe Minji is the good thing that happened to me, and maybe, just maybe, there is a future where me and her… y’know.

A whole minute passes before I realize that neither of us have stopped staring at each other. Something in my head clicks. I find myself leaning in, inch by inch, closer to Minji’s lips, just like I’ve done many times in my dreams - But this time, it’s real. Her breath dances against my skin, making my cells tingle in anticipation. Something in her expression shifts. Her eyes widen slightly, flickering downwards every so often, but she doesn’t pull away, even after my intentions become crystal clear. She opens her mouth as if to say something, a protest maybe, but no sound comes out except for her shivering breath. My heart pounds in my ears like a warning alarm telling me to stop. “This is a bad idea, Yuno! What are you doing!?” Yet I continue onward until the tension is palpable. So close, I can almost taste it-

The door to the nurse’s office swings open. “Oh good, you’re both awake!”

Minji and I jump to opposite sides of the cot, my face burning hotter than the sun. The nurses waltzes in with another kid sporting a gross vomit stain on his shirt, tossing any kind of sentiment I had mere moments ago out the window. My heart chugs with the force of a speeding bullet train; it’s a miracle I haven’t succumbed to a heart attack by now.

“U-um, I should, um…” Minji stutters frantically, her eyes darting everywhere but in my direction. If it’s any consolation, I feel too overwhelmed to look at anywhere except the floor. She hurries out of the nurse’s office without uttering another word.

“What’s up with her?” The nurse asks. I’m too busy freaking out to even register her question properly.

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST TRY TO DO!?

___________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Oh my god. Oh… my god. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My god. OH. MY. GOD. OMGOMGOMGOMGOGMOMGOMGOMGOMGM-

“Minj? Are you alright?”

I jump in my seat, my gaze flying wildly around me. “H-huh?”

Hanni and Haerin exchange odd glances as they take their seats on either side of me. “Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Hanni asks, her eyebrow raised in concern.

“I-I’m fine, just working on prom stuff like usual.” That’s only somewhat of a lie: after getting permission to excuse myself from the rest of the day’s classes, I came into the student council room with the intent to work on prom stuff to get my mind off of… that. However, I ended up spending the last hours of the school day staring at my blank computer screen while my mind spirals out of control. “Where’s Danielle and Hyein?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Home stuff,” Hanni answers, sliding an iced coffee towards me. “Are you sure you’re fine? You look… shaky.”

“It’s probably just stress, you know how I’ve been lately,” I awkwardly chuckle. Caffeine is probably the last thing that I need right now, yet I take a sip to keep up appearances. Haerin’s cold, analyzing glare seems to notice this.

“Mmm…” She grumbles to herself, her gaze never leaving mine as she takes a notebook from her backpack and starts to scribble in it. Haerin always had a knack for knowing things before they happen, but not even she could’ve possibly known about the nurse’s office… right?

“Ugh, all this talk about prom is making me sick,” Hanni groans. “Spending over $1000 on hair, makeup, a dress, and a limo, all for what? Three hours of some sweaty boy’s hands on my waist? I think I’ll pass.”

“You can think that, but some people wait their entire lives for this one magical night, I just want to make sure everyone has fun,” I reason.

“Pfft, you just want to slow dance with your little boyfriend, Yuno.”

The shock from her words makes me choke on my drink, devolving into a mad coughing fit. “W-what?! N-no I don’t! He’s not my- shut up!” Hanni throws her head back in laughter, clearly amused by my near death experience at her hands.

With how insanely stressful prom preparations have been, the thought of procuring a date to the event never crossed my mind. At this point in the year, most people have found potential dates to take or a close group of friends to go with, with Danielle, Hanni, and I falling into the latter. All this time, I never even thought what prom would be like for myself. I’ve seen it all the time in movies and TV shows: the main character boy asks the hot cheerleader girl to prom, they slow dance together to a popular song fitting of the time, they kiss, credits roll. A simple, predictable formula riddled with a mess of cliches, but one that many dream about for their own special night. But what did I want out of prom? Would he even- Nevermind, I can’t even think clearly about that right now.

Haerin tosses her notebook over to me. “I drew this,” she states.

I peer down at her drawing, growing more confused with each second. It seems to depict some kind of misshapen blob and a… girl? I think? They’re sitting on some kind of bench really close together. Haerin never showed any interest in the arts before this, so why would she be into drawing all of a sudden?

“Um, it’s nice? I think? What is it supposed to be?” I ask.

“It’s you kissing a shadow monster.”

My arm lurches wildly to the side, inadvertently tossing her notebook across the room. Does she know? How does she know!? She wasn’t there, right? Right!?

“That wasn’t very nice, Minj,” Hanni chides, picking the notebook off the ground. “I think it’s very unique and has a lot of character. She even got your ponytail right. Good job, Kitty Kang.” She pats Haerin’s head, bringing a pleased smile out of her, yet her eyes stay glued to me like a predator stalking its prey. I’m starting to wonder if she ever even blinks.

“Sorry, Haerin, I just feel out of it today. It’s a, uh… lovely drawing,” I sigh, resting my head onto my palm.

“Yah, you’re bumming me out, Minj. Let’s do something fun instead of all this prom garbage. Karaoke?” Hanni suggests. They both look at me expectantly, which only makes my answer even more painful.

“I would love to, especially today out of all days, but I have to prepare for a banquet tomorrow.”

“A banquet? You never told us about that. Ooh, can we come?” Hanni pleads, flashing her big eyes and pouty lips.

“I, um… It’s for my family’s business. They said I couldn’t invite anyone, sorry.” Oh god. Lying to my parents is one thing, but lying to my best friends? The people I trust more than anybody in the entire world? My own words leave a bitter taste in my mouth, more bitter than the strongest black coffee. But what am I supposed to tell them? That I invited Yu- him instead of my own closest friends? Even if his presence serves some kind of purpose, I still can’t imagine how they would react if I told them I basically chose a boy over them. No matter how I try to justify it, it still feels wrong.

“Aww,” Hanni pouts. While she’s distracted, I notice Haerin picking up her notebook and pointing at the “shadow monster” in her drawing with a scrutinizing squint. I try to ignore her, keeping a straight face, but it’s becoming more clear that she knows something’s up.

“I’ll make it up to you guys some other time,” I say, gathering my things. “Next time we go to karaoke, I’ll pay for everything, snacks, drinks, whatever, alright?”

“Woo! I won’t say no to that!” Hanni cheers, skipping out of the student council room. I get up to follow her, but a tug on my sleeve stops me. Haerin stares at me blankly, unblinking, for what feels like forever. It’s normally hard to read her, but especially now when my mind has been in a constant whirlwind for the last couple hours, all I can come to are a few thousand anxiety-ridden conclusions. She suddenly moves her hand upwards with the focused intensity of a cat, waving it around before finally landing her index finger on the middle of my forehead.

“U-um, Haerin, what are you-”

“You’re overthinking things. Go with your gut,” she states before putting her notebook back into her bag like nothing ever happened.

“What are you talking about-”

“If you’re not gonna admit it to us, at least admit it to yourself. It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, you’re barely floating as it is.” Haerin goes up to the door, stopping to look back at me. “Are you coming with us or not?”

“O-oh, right, yeah.” I can barely process her words as I follow the two of them off campus. What does she mean by “overthinking”? I’m not overthinking, I’m thinking a perfectly healthy amount. I just have a lot on my plate, so there’s a lot I need to think about. That’s not overthinking, that’s just… thinking a lot. I need to be thinking a lot, or else I run the risk of letting a ton of people down. My parents, the entire student body, my friends. Once I get a quiet moment to myself, I’ll be fine. Right? Right?

______________________________________________________________

I kick off my shoes by the front door, ready to land face first into my bed and turn off my brain for a couple hours. Unfortunately, fate has other plans for me.

“Minji! Welcome home, dear!” My mom announces from the living room, her tone a bit too cheerful to not raise any immediate red flags. “How was school?”

I fight back an exhausted sigh. “It was fine, Mother. I’m just gonna go up to my room and-”

“Oh, well don’t go upstairs yet! The Parks are here, come say hello!”

The Parks are what!? My eyes shoot up, scanning the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Park sit on the sofa, offering me kind smiles. But if they’re here, does that mean-

“Minji! Long time no see!” My worst nightmare rounds the corner with my father in tow, laughing like they’re old buddies or something. My skin crawls as he walks towards me with his arm spread out like he’s about to hug me. I wanna run and hide, but I’m too terrified to move. In the end, all I can do is try not to vomit on his shoulder as he wraps me up in an awkward hug.

Is this real? Surely this isn’t real, right? Maybe this is all just some sick nightmare and I’m still sleeping in the nurse’s office. Please let this be just a nightmare.

“Cat got your tongue or something?” He jokes, finally releasing me from his grasp.

“Sunghoon, it’s uh… good to see you.”

Father walks up and clasps his hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Sunghoon was just telling me that he’s considering transferring over Evergreen for the rest of the school year. Isn’t that great, Minji?”

“He WHAT!?”

Everyone turns to look at me, shock and concern written all over their faces. “I-I mean what a great surprise! That’s just… so, so, sooo great to hear,” I say through bared teeth. “I have an, uh, important test tomorrow that I need to study for, so I’m just gonna go up to my room and-”

“Why don’t you bring Sunghoon with you, dear?” Mother suggests, oblivious to the fact that she’s slowly destroying my life. “It’ll give you two time to catch up without us adults getting in the way.”

I muster up the most convincing smile I can and say, “S-sure. That would be great. Just… great.”

I stomp up the stairs to my room with Sunghoon in tow, immediately collapsing onto my bed without giving him a second thought.

“Your room is nice,” he says, shutting the door behind him and effectively taking away my only way of escape. Maybe there’s some soft bushes I can land on if I jump out the window. If not, at least death seems more favorable than being stuck in here with the worst human being alive.

“Mhm,” I mutter, half-listening to whatever he has to say.

Sunghoon paces around my room, looking around at my posters and my desk before picking up Mr. Bear from my bed. “I see you’re still into teddy bears,” he chuckles to himself.

“Put that down!” I grab Mr. Bear from his grasp and glare coldly at him, causing him to back off with his hands up.

“Alright, it’s clear that there’s still some bitterness so I might as well just go ahead and address the elephant in the room: I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were kids. I was an immature little brat and I should’ve treated you better. Will you forgive me?”

That was… surprisingly mature. Did the original Sunghoon die in an accident and got replaced by a nicer clone? Does he have an illegitimate twin brother that replaced him and took his name after Mr. and Mrs. Park realized how much of a gremlin their son is? Any of those explanations seem more plausible than Sunghoon actually maturing.

“Uh… sure, I guess,” I say, still weirded about this sudden revelation. He grins at me, sitting next to me on the bed. “Um, I’m sorry for yelling. It’s been a, uh… long day.”

“No worries, I deserved it.” Jeez, this new understanding side of Sunghoon is so off putting. If he acted like old self, at least that would be predictable. This feels like walking through uncharted territory without so much as a map or even a flashlight.

“Your mother told me that you’re inviting a friend to the banquet tomorrow,” he continues. “Some guy named Yuno. What’s he like?

“He’s…” Oh god, I can’t even think properly about him right now after what happened in the nurse’s office. I still haven’t been able to process my own feelings about it. What was he thinking? What was I thinking? I can’t even remember where my mind was during that whole thing, yet I can remember everything else so vividly; his warm breath dancing against my skin, his kind eyes peering into mine with so much care behind them, his soft lips inching closer and closer-

“Minji? Are you alright?” Sunghoon nudges my shoulder, taking me out of my impromptu trip down memory lane. I sink my face into Mr. Bear’s head, hiding the growing blush on my cheeks.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Like I said, long day,” I reason. “Um… He’s nice. A little shy, but he means well.”

“Are you sure you two are friends?” He chuckles at me. “It doesn’t seem like you know him very well.”

“We, uh, haven’t been friends very long,” I explain. As weird as it is, Yuno and I have only known each other a couple of days, yet it feels like so much longer than that. Now that I think about it, we’ve run into each other everyday since we met, even on the weekend. For the past three years of attending the same high school, he’s been nothing but a body walking through the hall or the utterance of a name whenever he stirred up trouble, but now, we’re so intertwined in each other’s lives like he’s been there from the start. Without him, I probably would’ve gotten attacked by that drunk man and I never would’ve gotten over my fear of spiders. His presence has become so integral to my life, I can’t imagine him not being there in some way.

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks suddenly, glancing at me.

I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think or feel about him. He is a part of my life, but I just… I don’t know. “As a friend, yeah,” I utter, unsure of the words coming out of my own mouth.

He nods, grinning to himself. “Good.”

“What do you mean ‘good’?” My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Oh, nothing, just, uh… thinking out loud.” He gets up from my bed and walks towards the door. “I’ll let you study for your test now, I’d hate to interfere with your academics. See ya tomorrow, Minji.”

“Yeah, see ya…” He shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Instead of getting up and doing something productive to distract myself, all I can do is lie there and stare at the ceiling, wondering when everything became so complicated.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

“Yuno, are you okay? You’re blanking out again,” Winter says.

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little headache.”

Honestly, I would prefer it if it was just a little headache rather than the fucking tornado that’s been running rampant through my mind. During the entire walk from the school to the convenience store, all I could do was stare at the ground and let my legs blindly follow behind Winter and Yujin. Hell, I barely even noticed we came to the convenience store until just now.

“Shouldn’t you go to the doctor? You don’t look very good,” Yujin says.

“I’ve been through worse.” Both of them still stare at me, unconvinced of my wellbeing. “I’ll feel better after I sleep it off, alright? You guys don’t have to worry about me.”

“How can we not worry about you, you got hurt b-because of me…” Winter’s voice falters as tears begin to well within her eyes.

“Ah jeez. Look, I…” My mind wanders back to what Minji said to me in the nurse’s office before I did… that: But that doesn’t mean you should go through these kinds of things alone. Your friends were worried sick about you.

“I’m sorry. To both of you. I should’ve let you two know what was going on instead of running in alone and letting myself get hurt. It won’t happen again, okay? I’m done fighting,” I say. Both of them look up at me in surprise.

“So no more Super Yuno?” Yujin asks.

“Uh yeah. No more, uh, ‘Super Yuno’.” If there’s a silver lining in any of this, it’s definitely getting rid of that ridiculous nickname.

“Hmm…” Yujin’s gaze falls to the ground in contemplation. “When superheroes in comic books get hurt, they usually have some kind of healing factor or revival ability that helps them get back up no matter how much damage they take. But you…” He looks up at me, his own eyes glossy with sorrow. “...You’re real. You don’t have any superpowers to help you. It was really scary seeing you not wake up, Yuno. I-I don’t… I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore.”

“Me neither,” Winter adds.

The three of us sit in silence with nothing but the crickets and the gentle howl of the passing breeze to let us know the world is still moving. The weight of their words sink deeper into me, making me feel even more guilty for my lack of consideration. Things are different now. I can’t act like I’m still living the same life I was a couple days ago, and frankly, I don’t want to go back to that life of solitude and pain. I need to change for the better. For me. For my dad. For my friends. For Min… For her.

I clap Yujin on the back, ruffling his hair. “You guys won’t have to see me get hurt anymore, alright? I really am done fighting.”

Winter smiles at me, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Yujin chuckles.

My lips form into a grin, a feeling I’m starting to get used to. “But if anyone messes with either of you, I don’t mind coming out of retirement for a little bit.”

The sounds of their laughter float with the wind, carried wherever fate takes them. I always viewed fate as cruel and unyielding, rendering our sense of choice to nothing but dust. But every once in a while, it’ll surprise me with something new, not necessarily good or bad, just different. This, however, is good. Unequivocally good. It can be convoluted and annoying at times, but still good.

“How’s the student council president?” Winter asks, making my shoulders tense up suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she looked really worried about you. Danielle told me that she’s never seen her act like that before,” Yujin says.

My gaze drifts to the side, unable to meet their eyes. “U-uh, she’s fine. We talked. We’re, uh, cool.” I can’t even imagine how she must be feeling right now after I did all that. What am I supposed to say to her? Do I just pretend like nothing happened? That I didn’t just try to kiss her? OUT OF NOWHERE? I clutch my head as I devolve into another tumultuous storm of uncertainty and anxiety. I need to get this feeling out of me. I need to… I…

“I almost kissed her,” I blurt out. Winter and Yujin’s jaws drop in utter shock at my confession. My entire face burns with shame, but my soul feels lighter now that I finally acknowledged it.

“Uh, what do you mean almost?” Winter asks after several seconds of stunned silence.

“I-I, uh… Fuck…” I inhale deeply, steadying my breath. “We were just talking and then suddenly her face was really close and I kinda just… leaned in… uh…” The more I blabber, the warmer my entire body feels, yet going back and reliving that moment so clearly feels oddly nice in a way. Instead of it being a dream, it was real. I almost got to see what happens at the end of that dream instead of waking up in my bed.

Both of them lean in with amused smirks, completely intrigued by my stupid little accident. “Do you like her?” Winter asks.

“Y-yeah, I do. A lot.”

“Aw, look at him, he’s blushing,” Yujin teases.

I turn my head, hiding my face into my hands. “Sh-shut up…”

“I think it’s very cute that you have a crush on her. Minji seems like a really nice girl,” Winter says, amused. “Are you gonna ask her out to prom?”

“I, uh… I don’t know.”

“Why not? I think you should go for it if you really like her.”

“I don’t know how she feels about me. I mean, I know she thinks of us as friends, but more than that…” I sigh, my shoulders slumping towards the ground. “Minji has a lot going for her, and I’m just me.”

“How did she react when you almost kissed her?” Yujin asks.

“She, uh… She ran out of the room in a panic.”

Both of them turn to each other in contemplation. “Well, that could mean anything,” Winter says. “Regardless of what you think she feels, you should ask her out or else you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life. I didn’t think Karina would ever like me, but look where we’re at now.”

“Yeah, Yuno!” Yujin adds. “We’ll even help you with your promposal! I can make posters and-”

“N-no!” I interject. “No posters. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. I already know what people think of me, so to put that kind of attention on her would be cruel.”

Amused smirks grow on their faces as they exchange knowing glances at each other. “That was really sweet, Yuno,” Winter says, gushing.

On second thought, maybe it’s better if I didn’t tell them all of this; God knows I won’t hear the end of it for the next week. But as I look at the sincerity in their smiles, a warm feeling stirs within me. Maybe it’s better I did.

______________________________________________________________

My hand rests on the doorknob of my home, frozen by the impending dread of having to come clean and explain the sudden influx of cuts and bruises marking my body. If he’s going to be in my life again, he’ll have to deal with the fact that I made and will continue to make really shitty mistakes. I just hope I’m able to learn from them every once in a while.

With a deep breath, I enter my home to find him sitting alone at the dining table, his leg bouncing restlessly as he stares blankly at nothing. All the lights in the house are off, save for the single one floating right above him, creating an ominous tension that blasts me from the doorway.

“Uh, hey, Dad.”

“Yuno!” I expected anger, disappointment, maybe even disgust, but instead I’m met with relief as he walks over to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Your principal called me earlier, I was worried sick about you. Are you okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I thought I would get tired of reiterating for the umpteenth time that I’m fine, but having people around me that care enough to worry gives me this tingling feeling in my chest. It feels… nice, actually.

“Are you getting bullied at school?” He asks worriedly.

“No, it’s nothing like that. It was just a stupid fight.” Some could argue that I’m the bully at the school, and maybe they’re right, but at least I pick on people that deserve it instead of defenseless underclassmen.

“Do you need me to take you to the hospital or something?”

“I’m fine, I’ve been through worse. Just need a little rest,” I say. He begins to speak, but stops and sighs instead.

“Alright. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” I nod. “I trust you know how to take care of yourself by now, but I’m always gonna be here if you need me.” He walks over to the kitchen and pours himself a cup of water, but instead stares pensively at it, watching his reflection in the cup.

“Actually, I could use a ride after school tomorrow,” I say. “I was, uh, invited to a banquet.”

He looks up from the cup, his brow raised in curiosity. “Really? What for?”

“Minji - the girl you met at the mall - she invited me,” I explain.

My dad smirks, finally showing a positive emotion for the first time since I got home. “Sure thing, I can drive you.”

“Thanks, dad.” I grin at him before heading upstairs to my room.

The easy parts are over. I apologized to Winter and Yujin, and accidentally let my feelings for Minji slip out. I talked to my dad and he seemed to take things better than I thought he would. Now there’s just one person left I have to talk to, arguably the most important I need to talk to: Minji.

I stare at my phone, my eyes rereading our previous texts over and over again. Should I call her? What would I even say? Even texting her seems like an impossible feat at this point. After she freaked out and ran out of the nurse’s office, I’ve been struggling to think of how I should address the incident. Hell, I’ve been struggling on how I should feel about it myself. I did, technically, want it to happen, but couldn’t I have chosen a more opportune moment to do it? Y’know, like after knowing for sure what she feels about me? God, I’m a fucking idiot.

To add salt to the wound, I end up going for the coward’s way out, typing up a message that avoids the issue entirely because acting like everything is fine is surely the best course of action.

Yuno: Hi. What should I wear to the banquet? And what’s the address?

Feelings are so exhausting.

______________________________________________________________

Compared to how “eventful” yesterday was, Tuesday went by in the blink of an eye. The weird stares were still there, even more so thanks to my injuries, and Tyler’s group of friends in English class seemed to be down a couple of guys. Not my problem, less trouble for me and it’s not like I even hit any of them. Minji never responded to the text I sent last night. To make matters worse, every time I saw her in the hallway, she avoided eye contact completely and ran the opposite direction. If she told me that what I did was disgusting and to never talk to her again, I would at least understand, but to avoid me completely when I’m literally going to a banquet with her feels like cruel and unusual punishment.

I sigh, banging my head into my locker. Not the greatest decision given my condition, but I don’t give a shit anymore. I just want the girl I like to talk to me.

“Is she still avoiding you?” Winter asks from next to me.

“Yeah,” I utter sadly. “Maybe I messed up. Maybe she doesn’t want to be friends anymore.”

Yujin pats my shoulder in support. “Don’t worry about it, Yuno, you’ll get a chance to talk to her eventually. Didn’t you say you were going to that banquet with her tonight? You can talk to her then!”

“She hasn’t even given me the address, how am I supposed to get there?” I reason. “Maybe this is her way of telling me not to come.”

Winter and Yujin exchange worried glances while I lean against my locker, thinking about everything and nothing. Is this what it feels like to have something good ripped away from you all of a sudden? It sucks. It fucking sucks. Part of me wishes I never met Minji in the first place just so I never have to feel like this.

Just then, Minji’s tall friend walks past, offering a polite wave. What’s her name again? It starts with an H… Not Hanni… Harry… Halsey… Hyemi…

“Hyein!” I call out, rushing over to her.

“Hello, Minji’s friend!” She says. “What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Minji at all today?”

“Of course I have!” She smiles like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Why?”

“Has she, um, said anything about me?” I may sound feeble and desperate, but that’s because I am. If Minji hates my guts, then I need to know, or else I’m gonna be walking around like a hopeless idiot.

“Hmm… No, I don’t think she’s said anything about you.”

“Oh…” I hang my head, completely dejected. Not only did I get any new information, but now her friends are gonna think I’m a weirdo. “Well, next time you see her, can you ask her to check her texts? She hasn’t given me a response yet.”

“Why can’t you tell her yourself? Did something happen between you two?” Hyein squints at me.

“N-no! I mean…” You tried to kiss her, you dumbass. “...maybe. I don’t know. Can you tell her that I want to talk? Please.”

“Hmm…” She studies my expression with an intense glare. “Okay, but I can’t promise anything. Whatever you did must’ve upset her a lot if she’s not talking to you all of a sudden.” I sigh, feeling my heart being ripped out of my chest. “Yeah, I figured. Thanks.” With my gaze fixed on the ground, I trudge back to my locker where Winter and Yujin are waiting. I wanna bash my head into the metal door so I can stop feeling like this, but I can’t even muster up the energy to do that. If only I didn’t catch a stupid crush on her.

A stupid, hopeless, foolish crush.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. I feel like a robot running through a constant cycle to maintain peak productivity. I’ve accomplished so much in the day that I don’t even have time to think about anything else. With prom slowly approaching, my continuous cycle of work will eventually pay off and everyone will finally be happy.

The door to the student council room clicks open, but I don’t even flinch. Eyes are glued to the screen, typing up emails and researching venues until calluses form on my fingers.

“Uh, Minji?” I hear Danielle’s voice ask. “What are you doing in here with the lights off?”

Oh right. The lights are off. I didn’t even notice. The bluelight from my laptop has burned itself into my retinas. Even when I blink, all I see is the screen.

“Just working,” I mutter.

“Hey, girl,” Hanni says, concern laced in her tone. “We got you an iced coffee if you want it.”

“Thanks.” I take a sip, the caffeine having an immediate effect on me like adding coal to the furnace of a speeding steam train. Email sent. New tab opened up. Check notification. Look at potential venues. Don’t think. Just work.

A hand slams my laptop shut. “Hey! What are you-” I look up for the first time to see all of my friends looking down at me with worry all over their faces.

“I told you keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy,” Haerin states, her hand holding my laptop closed.

“W-what are you talking about?” I ask, annoyed. “Can’t you see I’m trying to work!?”

“Minj, look at yourself! This isn’t just stress anymore, you look like a zombie!” Hanni exclaims.

I scoff, rubbing my hands over my face. “I’m fine, I’m just working on prom like usual. Haerin, give me back my-” I reach for my laptop, but Haerin snatches it away. “Haerin, what are you doing!? I’m in the middle of something important!”

“Minji, what is going on with you?” Danielle asks in a calm yet concerned tone. “You’ve been acting weird ever since yesterday.”

I feel like my head is about to explode. What are they not understanding!? Of course I’m going to be mad, they just took away my laptop! If anything, they’re acting weird! “I told you guys, I’m fine-”

“Is this about what happened between you and Yuno?” Hyein asks from the corner of the room. My gaze shoots towards her. Her hands are trembling by her sides like leaves in a heavy storm, barely holding onto the branch they’re a part of. Tears threaten to burst from her eyes. She’s scared, terrified. Of me.

My legs give out from underneath me as my vision becomes blurry with tears. A blanket of warmth covers me as the girls hold me in their gentle embrace. I don’t deserve them. I’ve been lying and keeping secrets from them, and now I yelled at them. All for what? A boy? Have I lost sight of what really matters in my life just because I think I have feelings for someone?

It takes a while for me to come down from the overwhelming wave of emotions. By the time my tears stop, I find myself surrounded by my friends’ caring gazes. The four people I trust most in the world, but also the ones I need to apologize to.

“I-I’m sorry guys,” I begin. “I know I said I’ve been stressed, but that doesn’t excuse my outburst. You guys don’t deserve to be yelled at like that.”

Hanni tenderly brushes my hair with her fingers, letting me rest my head on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Minj, we know you didn’t mean it. We’re just really worried about you.”

“Yeah,” Danielle adds. “It’s clear that this isn’t just about prom anymore.”

“What did Yuno do to you?” Hyein asks.

“He didn’t, um…” I take a deep breath, steadying my heartbeat. “When he got into that fight yesterday, it really scared me. Seeing him pass out like that, I thought he was d… gone. It felt like I couldn’t breathe properly until I knew he was alright. All I could think about was ‘Why did this have to happen to him? It’s so unfair. He doesn’t deserve this at all’. When Yuno finally woke up, it was like… everything felt right again. I was so relieved. And then I looked into his eyes and thought ‘I never want to see you get hurt again’. And I…” My cheeks start to burn as my voice falters. The girls begin to stare at me with intrigue, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

“I-I… I almost kissed him.”

The room fills with collective gasps as each of them freeze in shock. I bury my face into Hanni’s shoulder, each passing second of silence making me feel even more embarrassed.

“W-what do you mean almost?” Danielle asks, the most disturbed out of the four of them.

“The nurse came in before we could, uh… finish,” I say, my voice muffled by Hanni’s shirt.

“OH. MY. GOD.” Hanni squeals. “Girl, tell us everything! Who initiated? What did he say to you? Did he go right or left-” Haerin clasps her hand over Hanni’s mouth, shaking her head disapprovingly. Thank god, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve taken her questions.

“Is that why you were avoiding him all day?” Hyein asks. I sigh, nodding sadly.

“Every time I saw him, I panicked and ran away like an idiot,” I admit. “I don’t know what to think or how to feel.”

“Do you like him?”

I stare at the ground in contemplation, thinking about the past few days with Yuno. Despite what others think of him, he’s proven himself to be kind hearted and loyal, oftentimes putting his friends above his own well being. He’s saved me countless times, never once asking for any sort of recompense, and he’s shown that he’s willing to change for the better, even if it might go against his own ideas of justice. Yuno is a good guy, a great friend, and…

“Yeah,” I nod. “I think I do like him.”

“You think?” Danielle asks, unconvinced.

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a crush on anybody before.”

“Minj, that is so cute!” Hanni chimes. “You should ask him to prom!”

“Shouldn’t he ask me…?”

Haerin shakes her head. “It’s 2024, subjecting yourself to outdated ideals will only leave you disappointed. Get with the times, grandma.”

I side-eye her, grimacing at her insult. “Whatever. I don’t even know if he feels the same and I’d rather not do something drastic to ruin our friendship.”

“But you’ll never know if you don’t try,’ Hanni says. “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t tell him how you feel.”

“I know, but I can’t just rush into something like this without thinking first,” I argue. “Besides, I’m busy with a thousand things right now, I don’t even think I have time for a relationship.”

Danielle takes my hand in hers, looking me in the eye. “You should do what makes you happy, Minji. I mean, look what happened when you bottled up everything inside and put other people’s feelings above your own. Forget everyone else right now and focus on your own happiness for once.”

“But-”

“No buts,” she snaps. “I can get the other student council members to pick up the slack on prom preparations, so go out, have fun, and date a stupid boy. And if he hurts you, then you have the four of us to fall back on.” The others nod in agreement, smiling brightly at me.

“Thanks, guys.” I quickly clap my hands over my eyes in an attempt to stop another onslaught of tears. “God, I feel like I’m gonna cry again.”

“Aww, you big softie,” Hanni says. “Come here.”

The four of them pull me into a warm group hug that melts all my worries away. Honest to God, I don’t know what I would do without them. These girls are like my own little life raft, keeping me afloat even when I fall overboard.

I take out my phone and send a text that I should have sent ages ago.

Yuno: Hi. What should I wear to the banquet? And what’s the address?

Minji: hey :) just wear something nice! the address is 0507 Ador Ln. don’t be late, there’s something i want to talk to you about.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, checking if my outfit is okay for the millionth time. “just wear something nice!” she says, yet the only nice clothes I have are some light blue jeans and the bear sweater that I bought on a whim. I’m not sure if “nice” is how I would describe this outfit, but I don’t exactly have any other alternatives.

I would be lying if I said her text didn’t make my heart feel so much lighter. It doesn’t matter how stupid I look as long as I finally get to clear things up with her. Not being able to talk to her at all for the past day has been complete hell, I wouldn’t wish the feeling on my worst enemy. Yet, a part of me feels downright terrified. What is she gonna say to me? Will we still be friends after this? I’ll have to hold onto this dreadful suspense until I see her, and probably even longer depending on how the banquet goes. Hopefully we can get over this quickly so I can finally breathe normally.

My dad knocks on the bathroom, peeking his head through the open door. “You ready to go?” He asks.

“Yeah, uh…” I pause, awkwardly looking at the ground. “Do I look okay?”

He chuckles at me, patting my shoulder. “You look great. I’m sure she’ll like it.”

I take one last look at myself in the mirror before heading out to the car, my heartbeat ringing in my ears as we head to the banquet.

Naturally, the banquet takes place on the far side of the town where all the rich people live. Grandiose buildings line the streets as opposed to the regular suburban houses I’m used to, larger and shinier than anything I’ve ever seen, their opulence almost blinding under the streetlights. Even my dad looked impressed, staring at all the different houses that we could never dream of affording. All of this only serves as a reminder that I don’t belong in this world and never will. To Minji, this is just another Tuesday for her. I sigh, the pit in my stomach growing deeper and deeper.

The banquet hall sits atop a hill overlooking the town as if it's looking down on everyone else with disgust. As we drive up to the building, the frequency of luxury cars increases, making our car look like garbage on wheels in comparison. The closer we get, the more I’m starting to regret my decision to come along. A few guests are talking outside, dressed in their finest tailored suits and elegant gowns. I look down at the bear on my sweater with shame. I didn’t want to stand out, yet I’m basically wearing a giant sign that says “look at me, I’m an idiot.”

Near the entrance, I spot Minji wearing a stunning black dress that compliments her natural beauty. Simple yet sophisticated… And I’m wearing this god damn bear sweater. Maybe it’s not too late to turn around and go back home. I’ll tell her my body started hurting all of a sudden and I can’t move and-

“Hey,” my dad says, patting my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Go have fun.”

I nod, taking one more deep breath before stepping out of the car. “A-alright. Uh, thanks for giving me a ride.”

He smiles at me. “Of course. Text me when you want to leave and I’ll come right away. Bye, Yuno.” I watch as the car disappears down the hill, leaving me completely stranded with no way of escaping. All I can do is face this head on, like I’ve always done.

With each step I take towards Minji, my heart beat rings louder and louder in my ears. The gnawing insecurity in the pit of my stomach makes it hard to breathe, yet I continue forward towards the impossibly beautiful girl that I’ve fallen completely in love with. Her black hair flows like waves curling from a waterfall, light and airy, as she exudes an air of elegance and grace. If I survived a beating from a group of guys, then I can survive this one night. For her.

“Min-”

“Hey Minji!” A loud voice calls out from behind me. The source of the voice, a tall guy wearing a sophisticated suit, walks over to her and pulls her into a hug. My blood immediately begins to boil with rage. Who the fuck is this guy!?

“You look great! How are you doing?” I hear him ask her.

“U-uh, thanks, I’m fine, um…” Minji spots me, her face lighting up instantly. “Yuno!” I do my best to hide the growing smirk as he looks back at me with bewilderment.

“H-hey. Hi,” I say to her.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she replies, smiling at me. God, I missed that smile. I missed hearing her voice. It’s only been a day, but it feels nice to finally talk to her again.

“Um, hello? Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your friend, Minji?” The tall guy says. He must be the one Minji was warning me about, I can already tell he gives off a pompous energy.

“Ah right. Yuno, this is Sunghoon, Sunghoon, this is my friend from school, Yuno,” Minji says.

“What’s up, man?” Sunghoon reaches his hand out towards me, which I nearly shake before realizing I still have the gauze wrapped around my hand. “Oh damn, what happened to your hand? Are you some kind of fighter or something?” He jokes. Minji gives me an apologetic look while I simply shake my head.

“Cooking accident. I’m fine,” I say, lowering my hand.

“That sucks, man, uh…” He looks down at my sweater, his lips widening into an amused smirk. “Cool sweater, man, where’d you get it? Balenciaga? Armani? Target?” he chides, laughing at his own shitty joke. I shoot a glare at him which makes him shut up pretty quickly.

“I’m just joking man, jeez,” he says. “I’m gonna head inside, Minji. I’ll get us a good table.�� Sunghoon winks at her before walking off towards the building, leaving me and Minji alone finally.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry about him, Yuno,” Minji apologizes.

“It’s fine.” I gaze into her eyes for the first time since arriving, my heart skipping a beat as I got lost in the deep browns of her irises. The stars reflect off of them, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy right in front of me. “U-um, is this sweater okay? I, uh, didn’t really have any nice clothes to wear,” I blabber awkwardly.

“It’s, uh… It’s cute,” she says, her face lighting up as she looks at the bear. “Aw, he’s wearing little overalls. It’s like he’s a little farmer bear.”

I turn my head, quietly giggling to myself. How can someone look so ethereal, yet act so adorable? “Oh right, you said you wanted to talk to me about something,” I say, fixing my expression.

“Oh, um… Uh…” Her gaze nervously shifts side to side as she messes with her fingers. “Can we, uh, talk about that later? My parents are probably waiting for me inside.”

I sigh, disappointed but also understanding. “Okay, that’s fine.”

She offers an apologetic look before leading the way into the building. As we walk through the doors, my jaw hits the floor from utter shock and awe. The banquet hall is a giant room adorned with pillars of flowers and a giant golden chandelier hanging overhead, illuminating the room with a brilliant light. Fancy-looking tables are spread out throughout the room, seating even fancier-looking people, laughing and sipping from skinny glasses of champagne as they talk. The looks I get from school are a little annoying, but bearable enough - They’re all just kids trying not to get into any trouble that I’m usually a part of - but being in this room, looked down upon by these people is a different beast entirely. Instead of being viewed as some scary monster that could act up at any moment, it feels like they’re scorning at me like a rat that wandered into the wrong place. It’s like Minji’s mom times a thousand in here.

“Are you okay, Yuno?” Minji asks, lightly grabbing onto my sleeve with a worried look.

“I-I’m fine,” I assure her. Before she can say anything else, an older man walks up to her, smiling.

“Minji! How are you doing, dear?” He says.

“Hello, Mr. Park! I’m doing well, how are you?” She replies, seamlessly slipping into a more professional tone.

“I’m doing great, of course. It’s great to be doing business with your parents.” He looks towards me, his face subtly shifting into that of disdain. “Who’s your friend here, Minji?”

“This is Yuno, he’s my friend from school.”

“H-hello, sir.” I reach out to shake his hand only to be met with a confused expression as he stares down at my gauze-covered hand. Sheepishly, I retract it, my gaze falling to the ground in embarrassment.

“Right… Well, my wife is probably wondering where I am and I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” Mr. Park says, not even glancing at me. “Good bye, Minji.”

I sigh dejectedly as he walks off, both grateful that he’s gone and annoyed at myself for not making a better first impression. “That was… awful,” I mutter.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Minji soothes. “On the bright side, you’ll never have to talk to him again after tonight.”

“I don’t know, Minji, maybe me being here is a mistak-”

“Oh!” She takes an empty glass from one of the tables and hands it to me. “Here, hold this.”

I take it from her, giving her a quizzical look. “What do you want me to do with this?”

“Just hold up this glass with your right hand and people won’t shake your hand anymore. Problem solved, right?”

She’s trying so hard for me. What a saint. I truly don’t deserve her. “Yeah, okay,” I nod, mustering up a smile. “Thanks.”

“No proble-”

“Ay, that’s where you guys are!” Sunghoon pops out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around Minji. It’s taking every fiber of my being not to knock his lights out right now. “I was wondering where you two were.”

Minji pushes his arm off of her, side-eyeing him with contempt. “We were just talking,” she states.

“Well, I’m sure there’s a lot of people that would love to get to know Yuno. Isn’t that right, man?” Sunghoon firmly grasps my shoulder, pushing me towards a larger crowd of people culminating in the middle of the room. I could kill him if I want to (and I do want to), but with Minji here, I’m left at the mercy at whatever the hell this rich fuck plans to do. Whatever. I can survive talking to old people for a little bit.

The next hour crawls along as I’m swept through countless bouts of small talk with increasingly important people, constantly bombarded with questions that I don’t have the answer to.

“What are your plans after high school?”

“What university are you thinking of attending?”

“Have you started on your college admission papers?”

Minji and Sunghoon handled everything with ease, accustomed to the talk like they’re fluent in a second language, whereas I was barely floating by. Overwhelmed doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. Minji tried her best to help me out, but with an abundance of other people talking to her, her plate was already full as it was.

Finally, after another uncomfortable conversation with a woman that didn’t even try to hide her disapproval, I found myself on the outer rim of the conversation. Minji and Sunghoon were in the middle, keeping everyone distracted, giving me a chance to escape. I spot a door at the edge of the room leading towards the outside. I take one last look at Minji, feeling guilty for leaving her like this, before scurrying out the door.

Fresh air fills my lungs, a luxury I didn’t know I had until now. I scramble over towards the railing, letting myself breath for the first time in what feels like years. Getting another beating would be more favorable compared to the hell that I just went through inside. I don’t know how Minji does that on a regular basis, I could barely get a coherent word out the entire time.

I lean against the railing, watching the full moon float slowly above the town as I ponder whether or not me being here is a good idea. Maybe I should’ve just given Minji a lame excuse and stayed home. Like a dazzling star in the sky, it feels like all I can do is watch her from afar while I’m trapped by the gravity of my own miserable little planet, destined to fade into mediocrity as she illuminates the night sky with her light. A part of me wishes I never offered to walk her home in the rain just so I would never have to feel this pain. But I did and now I’m paying the price for it.

Isn’t it so tragic? To fall for someone that’s so close yet so far?

“There you are.”

The clacking of high heels against the concrete gets louder with each step as Minji walks up next to me. “I was worried you got lost or something. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer, not quite meeting her gaze. Minji slumps against the railing next to me, watching the moon.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I invited you here for a selfish reason, and after that backfired, I thought I could salvage it, but all I did was make you uncomfortable.”

“Hey, it’s fi-”

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you all day,” she says, her gaze falling to the ground. “I should’ve just talked to you instead of running away like an idiot.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that she finally acknowledged it. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too, for, um… y’know.” Heat rises to my cheeks as I’m reminded of why we’re in this awkward spot in the first place. If I just kept my urges in check, neither of us would’ve felt like this.

“U-um, it’s okay, that’s partially my fault too anyways,” she says, chuckling nervously. Minji looks up at the moon and inhales deeply. “It’s really pretty tonight.” Something in my head shifts as she utters those words, and I’m suddenly hit with a wave of deja vu as Minji shifts from “The daughter of the founder of a highly esteemed multimillion dollar company” to “The girl who’s afraid of spiders and likes teddy bears and dreams of becoming a singer one day against her parents’ wishes”. The girl that I fell in love with.

I nod in agreement, but all my focus is on Minji, more beautiful than any celestial body could hope to be. The wind makes her long, black hair float and ebb like a stream of the finest silk, while the Milky Way traps itself in her irises, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy in just her eyes alone. She shivers as another gust of wind floats past, and I contemplate whether or not I should give her my sweater. I’m wearing a tank top underneath, so it’s not like I would be flashing her all of a sudden…

Without anymore hesitation, I take the sweater off my back and hand it to her. “U-uh, here. Y-you seem cold,” I stutter awkwardly.

“O-oh!” Her cheeks turn a bright pink as she eyes my upper body, her gaze flying back and forth. “Thanks, that’s very, um, sweet of you,” she says, wrapping the sweater over her shoulders.

“Y-yeah, no problem…”

We stand there in complete silence, simply watching the moon as the crickets and the wind play their abstract melodies. The breeze may be cold, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth I feel in my heart for Minji. I want to tell her how I feel. I wanna scream it from the top of this hill for everyone to hear. But I can’t. What good would it do, knowing that it won’t work out? I know life has been nothing but cruel to me, but having the person who fills me with nothing but joy be this close to me yet still so far away is this cruelest act it’s committed. I’m cursed to live a life of mediocrity while Minji undoubtedly skyrockets to a space among the stars, a place that I can never hope to reach.

Minji glances at me, scanning the bruises on my arm. Without a single utterance, she gently traces her finger over them, leaving a line of electricity in its wake. “How are you feeling?” She asks softly.

“I’m fine. Like I said, I’ve been through worse,” I say.

She sighs, moving closer to inspect the injuries. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I turn to her, her face much closer than before. “Y’know, I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “People don’t really talk to me in general. They’ll look at the cuts and the bruises and think that I probably deserve them. And maybe they’re right.”

“Hey,” she lightly chides. “Don’t say that, they’re not right at all.”

“I’m always sticking my neck into situations that I don’t belong in, it’s only natural for me to get hit every once in a while.”

“Still, that doesn’t mean you deserve to get hurt.” The worry in her tone begins to grow with each word.

“I’ve hurt countless people in the past, Minji. There’s literal blood on my hands. To say I don’t deserve some kind of divine punishment would be wrong.”

“O-okay, but-”

“And maybe this is it. This is my punishment.” I look in her eyes, tears slowly welling up within them. “My mother’s dead. My father became an alcoholic. I’m left to survive alone while people look at me like a monster. I constantly get into fights because I’m hard-wired to have this fucked up sense of justice that I have to act on for some reason. A-and…” And you. The greatest punishment of all is meeting you. Because I know that I’m not good enough for you and I never will be. No matter how much I like you, you’re always going to be light years away.

“...My life has been nothing but a punishment, one after another. I deserve to-” “STOP!” Minji shouts, pushing me back a bit. “Just… stop, Yuno. You don’t deserve any of that. When I look at you, all I see is someone that’s been treated unfairly their whole life. You deserve to be happy. I-I mean, look at where you are now! You have friends that care about you, your dad is doing so much better now, and I…” She looks at me with steely determination. Her chest rises and falls with breath, as if she’s made up her mind about something.

And then she kisses me.

Her arms clumsily wrap around my head, pulling me into her lips. It’s rough and messy, yet so sweet and soft. The heat in my chest expands, hitting every cell in my body. I melt into her, placing my hands gently above her waist. All of my feelings for her are contained in my lips, transferring over in a silent exchange. Her lips are everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.

Minji pulls away slightly to catch her breath, warm puffs of her dancing against my cheeks. We look into each other’s eyes, not a word spoken but so many things said before going back in for another, this kiss more gentle than the first. She softly cups my cheek, caressing me with her fingers. I pull her in, wanting to be as close to her as physically possible. I want nothing more than to be here in this perfect moment with her forever.

A glass shatters against the concrete, ripping us out of our blissful space. We scramble to get off of each other as Sunghoon stands there, his jaw dropped in shock.

“W-what… What the hell are you two doing?!”

#newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #minji x male oc #newjeans minji x male oc #minji x male reader #newjeans minji x male reader #fluff #minji fluff #newjeans minji fluff

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yparkwrites · 1 year ago

Text

SON OF THE MOB SUNGHOON FF

Pairing: Mafia Sunghoon x Female reader (Y/N)

Content warnings: explicit content (smut), mentions of abuse, bruises, blood, etc.

Word count: 18k+

Synopsis: When Sunghoon, the son of Mr. Park meets a fearless girl everything will change around him as he tries to fight for his freedom from his father's nest.

Note: this is my first ever Enhypen ff, it is published on Wattpad as a complete story.

Part 1 - 4

NO MINORS ALLOWED 18+ ONLY

CHAPTER 1: The First Encounter

The clock was ticking inside the training room where Minjun’s son, Sunghoon, was being trained before his eyes. Minjun, a heartless mobster in a small village, was feared by everyone for his dangerous nature.

Sunghoon was already bruised, bloody, and drenched in sweat, yet his training continued. They were not finished punishing his already weakened body with the relentless punches and kicks from his father's assistant and Minjun himself.

Minjun laughed derisively at his son, muttering, "You’re fucking weak; you can’t even handle this."

Sunghoon's nightmare began when he was 12, following his mother's death. His father's behavior had changed drastically—he drowned himself in alcohol and drugs and started beating his son mercilessly.

This was Sunghoon's daily life.

After the grueling session, or perhaps torture, he returned to his room. He cleaned his wounds, took a bath, and got ready for his first day of classes.

Sunghoon was forced to take business classes. He didn't protest because nothing interested him anymore.

Upon entering the university, murmurs began. The son of Minjun was here. Everyone stared, not just because he was the son of the most dangerous man in the village, but because of his appearance—bruised face and split lip.

Despite his battered appearance, Sunghoon was an attractive guy, and many wanted to date him. However, he rejected every brave girl's confession, including that of the popular girl, Yura.

In the midst of the whispers, a new girl entered, unaware of everything. She looked around, confused as to why everyone was making way for this one guy. Who is he? Why is he so special? These questions lingered in her mind until the bell rang, breaking her thoughts.

As the bell rang, students rushed to their classes, not wanting to be late on the first day.

Y/n, the new girl, looked around, unfamiliar with the university. She needed to ask someone for directions. Should I ask that special guy? she wondered.

She was about to approach him when another guy tapped her shoulder. “Do you need anything?” she asked. He shook his head in response. “Then why did you tap my shoulder if you don’t need anything?” Y/n retorted, annoyed. When she looked back, the special guy was gone. “Great, now I’m late to class, thanks to you, mister,” Y/n said, exasperated.

Sunghoon walked to his class and took his seat in the last row, avoiding any interaction. He put his head down on his desk and chuckled at the scene he witnessed in the hallway.

“Will you stop following me?” Y/n asked the same guy who had tapped her shoulder earlier.

“I’m not following you; we’re in the same class, business class. And don’t even think about talking to that guy if you don’t want trouble, miss,” the guy responded.

“Can you not call me miss? I’m not that old,” she retorted.

“You called me mister, and I didn’t say anything,” he argued back, making Y/n stomp her feet as he chuckled.

“I’m Jake. Now stop stomping your foot like a madman, and I'll tell you who that guy is,” Jake said.

Y/n glared at Jake, annoyed.

They entered the class just in time, but the only available seat was in the last row, next to Sunghoon. The murmurs started again, making Y/n roll her eyes.

“Remember, don’t talk to him,” Jake whispered, loud enough for her to hear. Jake led Y/n to the last row.

“You saved a seat for us? Sweet,” Jake said, greeting Sunghoon. “I can’t talk to him, but you can?” Y/n retorted. “Let me at least sit beside Mr. Special Guy,” Y/n whispered loud enough for Jake and Sunghoon to hear. “No,” Jake said, earning an annoyed groan from Y/n. “It’s fine,” Sunghoon said quietly, surprising everyone and making Y/n smile.

The class started five minutes later, and everyone became busy.

“Why is everyone looking at you?” Y/n asked Sunghoon as they walked to the convenience store to buy lunch.

“They’re not staring at Sunghoon; they’re staring at you, the first girl he’s ever been seen with,” Jake said, pulling her away from Sunghoon.

“So that makes me special then,” Y/n said, moving back beside Sunghoon and grabbing his arm, making both Sunghoon and Jake widen their eyes.

“Yeah, you’re also the first girl his father will put in the torture room if you don’t let go of his arm right now,” Jake said, pulling her away again.

“What?” Y/n asked.

As they entered the convenience store, the murmurs started again. “Hey, Ma,” Y/n greeted her mom at the register. “I brought some friends,” she added. Her mother bowed as soon as she saw Sunghoon enter the store. “Why are you bowing? They’re my friends,” Y/n said, shocked at her mom’s behavior. “Don’t make eye contact,” her mom whispered loud enough for her to hear.

“Oh, come on,” Y/n said, clinging to Sunghoon's arm again, causing him to widen his eyes once more. Her mom was shocked too, grabbing her daughter and apologizing to Sunghoon. “Ma, he’s my friend,” Y/n insisted, earning a smack from her mom as Sunghoon chuckled. “It’s fine, it’s her first day,” Sunghoon said.

After lunch, Jake and Y/n didn’t have classes with Sunghoon. “What do you mean by torture room?” Y/n asked Jake, who was busy copying the lecture.

Jake looked at her and asked, “When did you arrive?”

Y/n looked confused. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“When did you arrive here? In this place, the city, village, or town—whatever you want to call it?” Jake repeated.

“A week ago,” Y/n responded. “Your mom didn’t tell you about the Parks?” Jake asked. Seeing her confused expression, he continued, “She just told me to be careful at night, and that’s it,” Y/n said.

“I’ll explain everything later, after class. I’ll take you home, because there’s no way no one saw you clinging to Sunghoon like that.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?” Y/n asked.

“No, it’s not that. It’s a long story,” Jake said. “I’ll tell you everything later.”

After their classes, Y/n didn’t see Sunghoon again until school was over. She saw him walking to his motorcycle, hoping he would see her, and he did. They made brief eye contact; she waved goodbye, and he nodded, mouthing "see you," which made her smile.

She kept waiting for Jake until she saw him exit the school. “What took you so long?” she asked.

“I was looking for Sunghoon, but I guess he left already. I was going to give him a ride,” Jake responded.

“Yeah, he just left. I saw him. I waved goodbye, and he mouthed ‘see you.’ He was riding a cool motorcycle,” Y/n told Jake.

“He must’ve gotten his motorcycle fixed. And he mouthed ‘see you’? He’s never done that. You’re really special,” Jake said, earning a giggle from Y/n before they got into his car.

“You have a nice car too,” Y/n complimented Jake.

“Thanks,” Jake responded, starting the car.

“So who is Sunghoon?” Y/n asked.

“Sunghoon is the son of the most notorious man in the village—actually, the whole country. I’m surprised you don’t know him. Mr. Park has an assistant, Tristan. He’s tall, but not as tall as Sunghoon. If Tristan tries to mess with you, Sunghoon will beat him up like a pulp,” Jake explained.

“Beat him up like a pulp? What does that even mean?” Y/n asked, chuckling.

“It means if someone tries to touch you, he’ll kill them. Like me—if I try hitting on you, he’ll end me, even though I’m his friend. What’s his is his, and whoever messes with what’s his is dead, just like his father. His father owns him. If Tristan can’t get to you, his father will. So don’t cling to him like that in public. He’s not even allowed to have emotions, yet here you are, making him go crazy,” Jake responded.

“So I’m his?” Y/n asked again.

“Yeah, and congratulations on winning the heart of the mobster’s son,” Jake said, making Y/n laugh.

“Well, we’re here. Take care,” Jake said.

“Thank you. I would appreciate it if you picked me up tomorrow morning,” Y/n joked.

“Yeah, wear jeans tomorrow,” Jake said before waving goodbye.

CHAPTER 2: Morning clashes and new bonds

The next morning, Y/n woke up earlier than usual, unable to fall back asleep after a particularly vivid nightmare.

"I should start buying sleeping pills again," she mumbled to herself as she headed into the bathroom for a bath. Y/n had been suffering from insomnia due to stress ever since she lost her father a few months ago. Since then, restful sleep had eluded her, replaced by relentless nightmares.

Meanwhile, in Jake’s household, his parents were engaged in yet another heated argument about his friendship with Sunghoon. Jake's father was supportive, but his mother viewed Sunghoon as a monster.

"You know it’s your fault they’re fighting," his sister Yura said, entering his room.

"Shut up. Mom will lose her mind if she finds out you go crazy over him. We're in the same boat here, only I can get close to him, and you can't," Jake retorted, smirking. Yura stomped her feet in frustration and left his room.

As Jake emerged from his room, his parents' argument grew louder.

"Did you forget that Sunghoon almost killed a student last year?" his mother shouted.

"Oh, come on, the guy was fine," his father argued back.

"He spent two months recovering from being beaten to a pulp by Sunghoon!" his mother yelled.

"I’m leaving!" Jake shouted, not wanting to hear more of their morning disputes.

When Y/n came downstairs for breakfast, the house was already empty. "Mom must’ve left early to open the store," she mumbled to herself, seeing lunch money on the table along with a note: *Sorry, had to leave early. Here’s lunch money. Please avoid Sunghoon if you don’t want trouble.*

Y/n sighed at the last sentence. "Sunghoon isn’t that bad of a person," she mumbled, grabbing a strawberry milk from the fridge as she lacked the appetite to eat.

After locking the door, Y/n turned around to see an unexpected visitor.

"Hey, Jake sent me," Sunghoon said with a broad grin.

Y/n smiled widely. "No wonder he told me to wear jeans."

"Yeah, he mentioned how much you liked my motorcycle," Sunghoon replied, grinning.

"That little snitch," Y/n said.

"You’re smaller than him," Sunghoon teased, earning a playful smack from Y/n as he handed her a helmet he had bought the previous day.

Y/n put on the helmet and hopped on the motorcycle. "Hold tight," Sunghoon said, starting the engine. Y/n yelped and held on tightly as they sped off.

When they arrived at school, students started whispering as Y/n hopped off the motorcycle. She received glares from several girls, especially Yura, the popular girl.

"They’ll never mind their own business, will they?" Y/n said loudly enough for everyone to hear. The students quickly looked away, avoiding Sunghoon’s gaze. Jake was right: whatever's his is his, and whoever tries to mess with what's his is dead, she thought.

At their lockers, Jake was already waiting, grinning. "You’re early," Sunghoon said, grabbing his books.

"Yeah," Jake replied.

"You know you don’t have to be friends with me if your parents keep fighting about it," Sunghoon said.

"It’s fine. Not your fault," Jake replied.

"We don’t have any classes together today," Y/n said, comparing her schedule with Sunghoon’s.

"Nope, I only have special classes today," Sunghoon replied.

"Good luck handling my sister. She woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," Jake said.

"Ugh, I don’t like her," Sunghoon muttered.

"Who is she?" Y/n asked.

"I’m his sister," came a voice from behind her.

"I’m Yura, the popular girl," Yura said, extending her hand for a handshake.

"I’m Y/n," Y/n replied, ignoring the hand.

"Did you not hear me?" Yura asked.

"I did," Y/n replied.

"And yet you ignore my hand for a handshake?" Yura pressed.

"Do you see any bats flying around the school?" Y/n asked.

"No," Yura replied, confused.

"That’s the amount of fucks I give about you offering a handshake," Y/n said, earning gasps from the students and Yura.

"Hey, that was savage. Tiny one, let’s get to class before we’re late," Jake said, dragging her and Sunghoon away.

"Damn, you’re the first person to ever talk to her like that. I should bring you to dinner with my family so you can tell my mom the same thing," Jake said, laughing.

"I’m not telling your mom that," Y/n said.

"Why not?" Sunghoon asked.

"Because she’s his mom and older than me," Y/n replied. "And my mom would kill me."

"Well, tonight at dinner, I’m going to tell our parents how you shut her down," Jake said, grinning.

At lunch, they decided to eat at the convenience store again. When they arrived, Y/n’s mom smacked her, earning a chuckle from Sunghoon and surprising everyone in the store.

No one had ever seen Sunghoon smile, not even a small one. He had been told to suppress his emotions ever since his father started his dirty business. Smiling, laughing, crying, or getting mad were all forbidden.

"See, I’m funny," Y/n told her mom as she saw Sunghoon chuckling.

"Please let me apologize for my daughter’s behavior. She’s always been stubborn," Y/n’s mom said.

"No, it’s fine," Sunghoon replied, giving her a small smile, shocking everyone again.

After lunch, they headed back to class. Y/n rolled her eyes as Yura entered the room. "We have the same class as her," Y/n said to Jake.

"Yeah, and you can just shut her down again," Jake said, grinning.

"We meet again," Yura said, sitting beside Y/n. Jake was loving it.

"What a coincidence. You're not stalking me, are you?" Y/n retorted.

"Why would I stalk you? Who are you?" Yura replied.

Y/n turned to Jake and said, "You didn’t tell me your sister has a bad memory," earning gasps from everyone again. Jake tried to control his laughter but failed when he saw his sister stomp away in annoyance.

"I hope you don’t mind me bad-mouthing your sister," Y/n said.

"Not at all. I’m enjoying it," Jake replied, grinning widely.

CHAPTER 3: HIS NIGHTMARE

Sunghoon's nightmare had always been his father discovering that he was hanging out with someone, especially girls. His father constantly warned him that having girlfriends would be a distraction, which is why Sunghoon never had one.

Sunghoon and Jake met during high school and had been hanging out behind his father's back ever since. Although his father didn't mind him spending time with Jake because he was a guy, what he would mind was Sunghoon not suppressing his emotions.

When Sunghoon arrived home from university, his father was already at the dinner table.

"You're later than usual," his father remarked, taking a sip of his wine.

Sunghoon sat down at the dinner table and replied, "Sorry, got caught up in traffic." He was served dinner as soon as he sat down.

His father gestured for the maids to leave the dining area. "You know I hate it when people lie to my face, son," his father said, looking directly at him.

Sunghoon sighed and continued eating, uninterested in conversing with his father.

His father smirked at his son's behavior. "Y/n," he said, making Sunghoon look up. "Yes, that's how we get your attention," his father said. "Stop hanging out with her, or next time, you'll find her dead body in your room. Finish your dinner and go to the training room," his father added before leaving for his office.

The next day, Sunghoon didn't go to class, making Y/n worried.

"Do you think Sunghoon's alright?" Y/n asked Jake as they sat in front of her mom's convenience store.

"No, his father found out about you, and he's doing everything he can to protect you from getting into trouble," Jake responded, eating the ramen he had bought.

"But he's not hurt, right?" Y/n asked anxiously.

"I have no idea. His father probably trained him all night, and he's just tired. Don't worry; he'll be here tomorrow," Jake said, trying to ease Y/n's mind.

After their lunch, Y/n couldn't stop worrying about Sunghoon and couldn't focus in class.

"I know you're worried, but if you keep zoning out, you'll miss the announcement about the ball next month," Jake said, breaking her thoughts.

"What?" Y/n asked, surprised.

"See, you missed it," Jake said, chuckling. "There's a ball next month."

"Oh, I've never been to one," Y/n responded with a small smile.

"Well, that sucks," Jake said, earning a playful smack from Y/n.

The next day, Sunghoon still didn't come to class, making Jake worried too, as he wasn't answering any phone calls or texts.

During lunch, Y/n, Jake, and surprisingly Yura sat together in the cafeteria.

"I haven't seen Sunghoon since yesterday," Yura said while eating her sandwich.

"Do you think we have?" Y/n retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Don't start a fight, you two. Let's talk about the ball. I'll try calling him again later," Jake said.

Yura smiled, putting down her sandwich. "So, you've never been to a ball?" Yura asked Y/n.

"Nope, too poor to afford that," Y/n responded.

"Your mom owns a convenience store," Yura stated.

"Yeah, and my dad was sick during the time there was a senior and junior prom, so I couldn't attend," Y/n explained.

"Was? So he's fine now?" Jake asked.

"No, I came here to live with my mom because he passed away a few months ago," Y/n said, looking down at her strawberry milk.

"Sorry," Jake apologized.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Y/n said, smiling. Jake then earned a smack from Yura, making Y/n laugh.

"What the hell!?" Jake exclaimed, trying to smack his sister back, only to receive another smack from Y/n.

"You're not allowed to hit your sister," Y/n said firmly.

"Are you seriously taking her side?" Jake asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes, and we're here to talk about the ball," Y/n said before turning to Yura. "So, what do we wear for that occasion?"

"Brother, move aside. We have to discuss this," Yura said, pushing her brother away from Y/n and sitting beside her.

"Traitors," Jake muttered with wide eyes as he munched on his sandwich.

Two weeks passed, and Sunghoon still hadn't returned to the university.

Yura and Y/n had grown close, while Jake became the third wheel to their friendship.

"We haven't heard from Sunghoon in the last two weeks," Yura said as she sat down beside Y/n.

"No, and he hasn't answered any calls or read any of Jake's messages," Y/n replied.

"Don't worry, he's fine," Jake said, trying to reassure Y/n again.

"The ball is in two weeks, and since it's Friday and we got off early today, how about a little shopping? I'll ask your mom for permission," Yura said, grinning widely.

"Good luck getting my mom to agree to let me go shopping," Y/n said skeptically.

"I know you're worried about your loverboy, but trust me, he'll be there at the ball," Yura assured Y/n.

"I can't believe you made my mom say yes," Y/n said as they walked through the mall, looking for makeup.

"You know I'm good at it," Yura said confidently.

"Yura, you already have a lot of makeup," Jake said, trailing behind them like a bodyguard.

"Not for me, for Y/n. She needs to look pretty at the ball because that loverboy won't miss it," Yura said, grinning at Y/n before pulling her into Sephora.

"I don't know how to use this stuff," Y/n said, trying to break free from Yura's grip.

"I'll put it on you," Yura said, smiling.

Jake just laughed at the two of them, amazed at how well they got along. Just then, his phone started ringing.

"Sunghoon, where the hell are you?" Jake asked as soon as he answered the call.

"Sorry, got busy," Sunghoon replied with a raspy voice.

"Are you alright?" Jake asked.

"Yeah. When's the ball?" Sunghoon responded.

"You know about it? Damn, Yura was right. It's in two weeks," Jake answered.

"Okay, I'll be there," Sunghoon said.

"Do you want Y/n's number?" Jake offered.

"No, I better not have it. I'm hanging up now. Tell Y/n I miss her and not to worry about me," Sunghoon said before ending the call.

"Who were you talking to?" Yura asked, startling Jake.

"Jesus, you scared me," Jake said, holding his chest.

"So, who was it?" Y/n asked eagerly.

"Sunghoon. He said he misses you and you shouldn't worry. Come on, let's get something to eat; I'm starving," Jake said, pulling the two along, while Y/n kept asking about Sunghoon.

CHAPTER 4: THE BALL

“You don’t look excited for the ball,” Yura remarked, examining a selection of ball gowns on sale in the store.

Yura had decided to take Y/n out to buy their outfits for the ball, which was only a week away. However, Y/n’s mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of Sunghoon ever since the night he called Jake. They hadn't heard from him since.

“Earth to Y/n!” Yura exclaimed, waving a hand in front of Y/n’s face.

“What?” Y/n asked, snapping out of her reverie.

“How about this dress? Isn’t it gorgeous?” Yura asked, grinning as she held up a stunning red gown.

“It looks nice, but isn’t it too revealing?” Y/n responded, hesitating.

“Oh, come on! You’re grown up now, and Sunghoon will probably go crazy when he sees you in this,” Yura stated with excitement.

“I’m not really into red. I prefer brown, dark green, or maybe pastel colors,” Y/n said, glancing at the other dresses.

“Alright, I’ll take this one for myself. Let’s find something in brown or green for you. Not pastel, though—you don’t want to wear something like that to a ball,” Yura said, leading Y/n to the other side of the store.

“You know, ever since I met Jake and Sunghoon, my life has changed,” Y/n mused, looking at the dresses Yura had picked out for her.

“How so?” Yura asked.

“I didn’t have any friends to spend time with back at my old school. Everyone there was only focused on their grades. It was a very weird place,” Y/n said, admiring an emerald green dress Yura handed her.

“You like that one,” Yura said, grinning.

“Yeah, I’ll try this on,” Y/n responded, smiling.

“You know, Sunghoon was a happy kid until he lost his mom. After that, he started coming to school with bruises and wounds on his face,” Yura said as Y/n changed into the dress.

Y/n stepped out of the dressing room, leaving Yura in awe. “Girl, I didn’t know you had such nice curves. Damn, I’m jealous!” Yura exclaimed, making Y/n laugh.

“Thanks. Jake never mentioned it,” Y/n said before returning to the dressing room to change back.

“Well, Sunghoon doesn’t like it when Jake talks about it, so maybe that’s why,” Yura explained.

Yura and Y/n both paid for their dresses.

“Thank you for taking me dress shopping,” Y/n said as she stepped out of Yura’s car.

“No worries, and I’ll do your makeup. So, the night before the ball, I’ll sleep over at your place,” Yura said, grinning.

“Or I could stay at yours,” Y/n joked.

“I’d love that, but my parents don’t like visitors. Besides, your mom has been asking for a sleepover here,” Yura told her.

“She loves you more than she loves me,” Y/n said, laughing before waving goodbye to Yura.

The next day, rumors about Sunghoon’s absence spread throughout the school, coinciding with the buzz about the upcoming ball.

“Has Sunghoon texted you?” Yura asked her brother, who was looking at his phone.

“No, but he’s seen my texts,” Jake replied.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n suddenly said, catching the siblings’ attention.

“What are you sorry for?” Jake asked.

“Maybe it’s because of me that he’s been absent and hasn’t attended any classes,” Y/n said, looking down, trying not to cry.

“It’s not your fault, and who told you it’s you?” Yura responded, looking at her.

“Everyone’s talking about it. They’re saying that ever since I started hanging out with Sunghoon, he’s been in trouble with his father. Maybe they’re right,” Y/n said, finally letting her tears fall.

Jake hugged her, trying to comfort her. “Stop crying. Sunghoon is fine,” Jake said.

“He’s not okay. He’s been absent for three weeks now,” Y/n said, her voice rising slightly as she stood up and walked away.

“What should we do about her?” Yura asked.

“I don’t know, but I know Sunghoon will be mad once he finds out,” Jake responded.

Time dragged on inside the training room, where Sunghoon’s father had been putting him through grueling training sessions for three weeks straight.

Sunghoon spat blood after receiving a harsh kick to his stomach.

“You don’t talk back to me, Sunghoon,” Mr. Park said, kicking him again in the stomach, making him wince in pain.

Sunghoon tried to stand but couldn’t, due to the relentless kicks from his father.

“Man up, Sunghoon!” his father yelled, delivering another kick.

“Park, I think that’s enough. You’re going to kill him,” Tristan said, entering the training room.

“Fine,” Mr. Park said, giving one last kick before leaving the room with Tristan.

Sunghoon struggled to stand up. “They might as well just kill me,” he mumbled, spitting more blood on the floor before finally managing to stand.

He collapsed onto his bed, grabbing his phone and seeing another text from Jake: “They’re talking about your absence now and blaming it on Y/n.” Reading the message, his blood started to boil. “It’s not her fault,” he muttered before passing out from exhaustion.

The day of the ball arrived. Yura had been applying makeup to Y/n’s face for the past 30 minutes.

“Does it really take this long to put on makeup?” Y/n asked, chuckling.

“Yeah,” Yura replied with a chuckle of her own.

“When will you finish?” Y/n asked, still smiling.

“Soon,” Yura said.

After Yura finished Y/n’s makeup, she started fixing her hair.

“Do you think Sunghoon will really come?” Y/n asked.

“Of course. He’s not going to miss seeing you,” Yura said, grinning.

“What if he doesn’t come?” Y/n asked.

“He will. Trust me,” Yura reassured her.

“Kids, Jake is here!” Y/n’s mom yelled, making the two girls laugh.

Yura and Y/n carefully descended the stairs, trying not to trip, as Jake looked at them, mesmerized.

“Damn, who are you?” Jake said, making Y/n’s mom laugh.

“Shut up,” Y/n responded, rolling her eyes.

“Come on, let’s go. We’ll be late,” Yura said excitedly.

“Jake, take care of my daughter,” Y/n’s mom said, waving them off.

Y/n, Jake, and Yura arrived at the ball. Everyone was dressed beautifully, and Yura had been right—no one was wearing pastel colors.

Y/n scanned the crowd, searching for a specific person, but he wasn’t there. She looked down, trying not to cry. He’s okay, right?

“I really thought he’d show up,” Yura whispered to Y/n.

“It’s fine,” Y/n said, trying to sound convincing.

As the night wore on, there was still no sign of Sunghoon. Y/n began to lose hope of seeing him.

“I’m going to get some fresh air,” Y/n said, leaving the venue.

Outside, Y/n stared at the stars, finding some solace in their beauty.

“It’s cold,” someone said from behind her, placing a coat over her shoulders.

She turned around and finally saw the person she had been longing to see.

“Sunghoon,” Y/n whispered.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Sunghoon said, looking into her eyes.

“You’re just on time,” Y/n said before hugging him tightly.

Sunghoon hugged her back, holding her close. “I’m so thankful I met you. We’ve spent so little time together, but I’m grateful for every moment,” Sunghoon said before breaking the hug. He took off his necklace and placed it around Y/n’s neck.

Sunghoon pressed his forehead against hers, holding her cheeks with his shaky hands, and kissed her. Their lips moved in sync as Sunghoon pulled her closer, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He pulled away from the kiss. “I’m sorry. Please keep my necklace for now,” he said, stepping back.

He turned to leave, but Y/n grabbed him in a back hug. “Where are you going?” Y/n asked, her voice trembling.

“Away, to protect you,” Sunghoon said, attempting to remove her arms from his waist, but she held on tighter.

“Please don’t go,” Y/n cried.

“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon said, gently but firmly removing her arms and walking away as Y/n continued to beg him to stay.

Jake approached Y/n as she collapsed to the ground, sobbing. He hugged her, having witnessed the entire scene. He knew Sunghoon was leaving but hadn’t expected him to show up for Y/n.

“What happened?” Yura asked, running over upon seeing the scene.

“And that’s the last time I saw him,” Y/n said, looking at Jungwon, Jay, Yura, and Jake.

“Do you miss him?” Jay asked.

“Every day,” Y/n replied just as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

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