ambi01

[ambi01]

I was feeling sad so i opened tumblr and now im feeling sad and LONELY great

Stubbles and Kisses

A little drabble for my starving readers—It’s been a while since I posted because I’ve been focusing too much on writing long and detailed fics. Enjoy this little snack ❤️

Yes I’ve gone feral ever since I saw these pictures. Why is he so hot when he’s being a normal dude? Idk his manliness is driving me insane (I need him so bad pls)

Sunghoon x fem!reader [established relationship]

You were making yourself a snack when all of the sudden your boyfriend had caged you in a tight back hug.

“Where were you…” he mumbled sleepily into your skin as he had just woken up from a nap. He closed his tired eyes and buried his face into the depth of the crook of your neck.

“I’m just making some snack,” you quickly patted his head before focusing on your sandwich again, weighing between sweet-chilli sauce and teriyaki sauce.

“When did I allow you to leave the bed without my permission?” He slapped your butt, his face still buried in your neck. You yelped at the stinging feeling, “you were sleeping, what was I supposed to do?”

His arms tightened around your waist as he began to sway your bodies in a soft rhythm, “hmmm…” he began, thinking about a response.

“Hmmm…” you mimicked, cutting some pickles. You felt his smile form against your skin, “I don’t know… just don’t leave me again like this. Ever.” He threatened lightheartedly, but you knew deep down he was being serious.

“Ok, you big baby~” You replied as if you were talking to a child.

Contented, he rubbed his face against your skin, his chin now planted on your exposed shoulder as the stubbles on his neck began to scratch against your skin. “Gosh~ you’re so soft,” he sighed as rubbed himself against you like a cat.

You pushed your finger against his forehead, putting a distance between your skin and his stubbles, “and you’re scratching me with your unshaven beard stubbles.”

He gasped dramatically, “oh no! What are we going to do?” He attached his chin and neck on your skin again, scratching you now with determination.

“Hoonie~” you began to laugh, “what are you doing?” You tried to pull your head away but he followed you. “Punishing my girl for leaving me all cold and alone in the bed.”

Your laughter echoed through the kitchen, “you’re so annoying.”

He then began to rub the unshaven stubble of his chin against your cheek, you squeezed your eyes at the discomforting scratchy feeling. “I’m not annoying, I’m just a man who believes in a fair world where everyone is punished for their wrong doings,” his attacks didn’t seem to stop, he enjoyed the close proximity between you two. His arms never loosened around your waist, one hand firmly placed underneath your shirt right under your bellybutton.

“And what can I do for a reduced sentence? Because your girlfriend here wants to eat her sandwich,” you squealed as he now started to gently bite into your cheek, trailing down your neck with his love-bites, his stubbles continued to scratch along the way.

“A kiss will do it,” he now peppered your cheek with tiny pecks.

You turned around in his embrace. His eyes softened at the sight of your angelic face, “hi,” he whispered, love-dazed.

“Hi,” you chuckled, caging your arms around his neck to pull him down.

His soft lips met yours, putting all of his love and affection into the kiss. Just as he put his hand on your cheek to tilt your head towards him, you pulled away, “your hair is tickling me…” you giggled as you pulled at the beard hair on his chin. He groaned dramatically, “yeah right. I’m a man. Of course I have hair there.”

“But you usually shave and now it feels rough and weird,” your eyes glistened with childish-like enthusiasm as your fingers now pulled at the hair on his adam apple.

After a couple moments of comforting silence, you made an announcement: “Okey, payment’s done. I wanna eat my sandwich now.” You turned around quickly before he could react.

“Nooo~!” He whined in protest. His cheek rested on your head, pouting, when he suddenly had an idea. He swiftly grasped your face in his hand to turn it to him and rubbed his rough, scratchy jaw and chin all over it.

“Babe!” You gasped at his attack, “what are you doingggg~” you complaint as you tried to pull away, “I already completed my sentence.”

“No, you didn’t kiss me properly.” He continued to scratch his stubble on your face.

You giggled, “Sunghoon, stop…”

“What did you just call me?” He asked, scandalised, and carried on with his assault.

“I- I meant babe,” you bursted out in laughter.

Suddenly, he pulled away and pouted his lips, indicating his need for a proper kiss. You closed your eyes with a dumb smile as you turned to him completely again, hand on his rough cheek, to pull him in for a kiss. He sighed softly into the kiss, eyes fluttering at the butterflies in his stomach. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, almost forgetting his initial plan.

When you finally pulled away, you pecked his lips to satisfy his needs, “good?”

He smiled at you dumbly, eyes twinkling, “yes.”

“Can I eat my sandwich now, you needy baby?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his smile never faltering. You pecked his lips once again cutely—he almost felt bad at what he was going to do.

Almost.

And when you turned around to finally devour the sandwich which you had perfected to your liking, you quickly realised that it was gone.

Eyes widened, you whipped your head back to your boyfriend, only to see him standing a few steps away—distancing himself from you. One hand holding half of your sandwich as he had already shoved the other half into his mouth.

“Sunghoon!” You screeched.

He laughed loudly, though the food in his mouth muffled the sound, as he stuffed the rest of the sandwich in one go. Chewing and swallowing everything in a matter of seconds.

You sprinted towards him. His eyebrows shot up in panic, he quickly began to flee.

“YOU LITTLE SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD-“

Did you land on his back and clung onto him like a monkey while you hit him repeatedly?

Yes.

Did he take you to your favourite burger place to make it up to you?

Yes.

Did he steal most of your fries there?

Also yes.

Did he shave off his stubble?

Well, you kind of liked it so you didn’t let him until he had to shave it off for some shooting again.

Did you develop a habit of burying your face into his unshaven face and neck and scratching yourself like cat whenever you two cuddled?

Yeah.

And he loved every second of it.

—————————————————————————

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Comment, like, reblog, feedback, requests always appreciated very much!

All works are copyrighted ©youngheejay 2025 . Do not repost or re-write without the permission of author.

[ambi01]

This made me yearn for something i cannot even name 😭

BELOW THE SKIN

Pairing: Jungwon x afab!reader

Synopsis: They say moles are where your lover kissed you in a past life. If that’s true, Jungwon’s been searching for your skin for centuries. WARNING: SUGGESTIVE + INTIMATE (no smut)

Word count: 2.2k +

Author's Note: I've always thought about this myth - lmk what you guys think.

Enhypen Bookshelf [[]

You’ve had the same constellation of moles your whole life.

They dotted your skin like stories someone wrote in a language you never learned to read. There was one nestled at your collarbone that people mistook for a fleck of chocolate. One right at your wrist that friends would sometimes trace absently. Your hands were speckled with tiny dark spots, enough that you sometimes hid them under sleeves during childhood photos.

Your neck had another. Your shoulder blade, too. A large, almost heart-shaped one sat at the curve of your waist—barely visible unless your shirt lifted just right. And then there were the others.

The ones you didn’t notice at first. On the inside of your thigh. Below your navel. At the bend of your knee. Beneath the slope of your breast.

None of them symmetrical. None of them in places people talk about in beauty blogs or skin-care reels. But your grandmother used to say they were marks left behind by the lips of someone who loved you in a past life.

“That boy must’ve adored you,” she’d said once, tracing one just below your collarbone. “He kissed you like he was afraid to forget.”

You had laughed at the time. You were twelve. You thought it sounded romantic—but silly.

You grew up and left the idea behind.

Until him.

Jungwon isn’t the kind of boy who flirts. He doesn’t toss compliments like confetti or brush fingers against yours just to make you flinch. He watches people quietly. Speaks with purpose. Carries a kind of stillness that makes noise feel like an interruption.

You meet him in a class you almost didn’t take. He sits beside you on the first day and doesn’t say much—just a small, polite smile. But every time you turn your head, he’s already looking at you.

You’d be unnerved if it didn’t feel… familiar.

Weeks pass. Assignments are shared. Inside jokes exchanged. One rainy afternoon, he pulls a loose thread from your sweater sleeve and tucks it into his pocket.

And then one night, you fall asleep on his couch after watching a late film, and you wake up with your hand in his.

Palm up. Fingers slack.

His thumb moves softly over a tiny mole near the base of your thumb. Like he’s memorising it.

You pretend to still be asleep.

“I have too many,” you joke one day, holding out your arm to show him. “Moles, I mean. My friends used to count them like stars.”

He doesn't laugh. He takes your hand in both of his.

Jungwon notices them like they mean everything.

He’s quiet. Gentle. The kind of person who doesn’t just look—he sees. You meet him through a class project, but he talks to you like he already knows your laugh, your hesitations, your tells.

And your moles.

The first time he holds your hand, he brushes his thumb over the tiny one near your thumb joint and murmurs, “Still here.”

You frown. “Still where?”

He doesn’t explain. Just smiles.

“This one,” he murmurs, brushing your wrist. “This one was always my favorite.”

You blink.

“You’ve never seen it before.”

You stare at him.

He doesn't elaborate.

Later, your roommate says Jungwon’s the type of boy who probably remembers his dreams in colour.

You think he remembers more than that.

You dream of him before you ever fall asleep in his arms.

In those dreams, he’s not always him. Sometimes, he wears different clothes. His hair is longer, his voice deeper. You wear gowns. Sometimes armor. Sometimes you wear nothing at all—just silk sheets and a name you barely remember.

But the moles are always there.

The one behind your knee. The one on your neck. The one beneath your breast, especially.

And always—always—he kisses them like they’re precious.

Like he’s afraid they’ll fade if he doesn’t.

One night, as his mouth moves against your collarbone, you feel his hand slide gently over your waist. It pauses over the large mole there, fingers spreading as if to cover it. He kisses just beside it, breath warm.

“I found this one in every lifetime,” he whispers.

You shiver.

Tangled in sheets and silence, you ask him directly:

“Do you believe in past lives?”

He nods, eyes open and honest. “Yes.”

“Do you think we were… something? Before?”

He smiles. “I don’t think.”

He pauses.

“I remember.”

It spills out slowly, like water leaking through cracks in the wall. In the quiet hours, in the pauses between kisses, he starts to tell you pieces.

“In one life,” he says, “I was a scholar, and you were the daughter of a nobleman. We passed each other once at a temple, and I only caught your eyes. But I knew.”

He kisses your collarbone then.

“In another, you were a musician. I waited every week just to hear your voice.”

His mouth finds your shoulder blade.

“Once, I found you after a war. You had forgotten your name, but you smiled at me, and I didn’t need to know anything else.”

You shiver.

“Were we always together?”

He shakes his head.

“Sometimes I was too late. Sometimes you loved someone else. Sometimes… you died before we found each other.”

You lean back against the pillows, letting the silence settle. Then you ask the question that’s been burning in your throat:

“And this time?”

He looks at you.

And he says it like a promise.

“This time, I’m going to love you long enough to make it count.”

After that, you start noticing the pattern. The way he kisses every mark. Not just the visible ones. Not just the convenient ones.

Once, when you’re lying beside him after a long day, half-naked and exhausted.

Then, without warning, he presses his mouth lower—beneath your breast—to that mark you’ve always avoided. The one you forgot to be embarrassed about.

You flinch.

He pauses. Looks up.

“No one’s touched that before,” you admit.

“I know,” he says. His hand spreads across your ribs, steadying you. “You never lived long enough.”

Your breath stops.

You stiffen.

But he doesn’t look up.

He just breathes against your skin like he’s thanking it.

And then he says, almost too quiet to hear: “I lost you holding you like this.”

Your eyes sting.

And something inside you remembers—a flash, a fever, your chest aching, his voice calling you back when your body already knew how to let go.

Your first time together is slow.

You’re half-nervous, half aching, and he treats you like porcelain wrapped in something ancient.

It’s the first time someone sees all of them—really sees you, laid bare, constellation and all. His touch isn’t just careful; it’s reverent.

His lips ghost over your shoulder blade, where a dark spot lives like punctuation.

“This one was on your back when you ran through a river,” he murmurs. “You wore white. I remember seeing it through the fabric.”

You bite your lip. “You're making things up.”

He smiles softly. “I’m not. You had the same laugh then.”

His lips brush the skin again—slower this time, with more meaning than you know how to hold.

You start counting them again after that.

One on your neck. One on your collarbone. Too many on your hands to name. One on your wrist, right where he always kisses you when you’re nervous. One on your shoulder blade that he traces when you’re curled against him. One just below your belly button that he smiles at before pressing his mouth there. The large one on your waist he rests his hand over like it’s a place he belongs. The one behind your knee that makes you giggle when his fingers find it. And the one—the first one, the final one, the one that feels like a return—beneath your breast, where his kisses always linger the longest.

After that, you start to really see yourself too.

In the mirror. In his gaze. In your dreams.

The one mole at the curve of your inner thigh. The one behind your knee. The one low on your back that tickles when his fingertips trace over it.

Sometimes, when he’s between your legs, his lips will pause over each spot like checkpoints—like he’s returning to every place he missed you.

Once, he kisses the one just below your navel and whispers something you don’t catch.

You ask him what he said.

“That’s where I felt your- our first child kick.”

Your eyes widen.

He adds, “In the third life. Y-you died the same year.”

You start noticing his moles too.

There’s a small one on his jawline you always glance at when he’s speaking.

“I like this one,” you murmur, brushing your lips against it during a lazy morning.

“It’s new,” he says, smiling. “I didn’t have it in our first lives. But you kissed me here once, and it showed up in the next.”

You stare at him, awed. “What, like I… created it?”

“Maybe.” His eyes soften. “Love leaves marks.”

You find more.

One near his hip that you kiss when he’s half-asleep. One behind his shoulder you trace with your fingertip when he’s lying face-down on the bed. One under his ribs that only shows when he stretches, which he lets you explore when you press your lips to his skin in quiet wonder.

You whisper once, “Why don’t I remember you?”

He kisses the back of your knee, where a mole hides in the bend.

“You always forget,” he murmurs. “You’re not supposed to carry the pain.”

“But you do.”

He nods. “I’d rather remember and find you again than forget and lose you forever.”

Your roommate asks if you’re obsessed with each other.

You don’t answer. Because it’s more than that.

It’s recognition.

It’s waking up with your head on his chest and realising your fingers always drift to his jawline mole without thinking.

It’s him pulling your hand to his mouth and kissing each tiny mark like he’s saying hello in a language only you understand.

It’s one night—late, breathless—when he has you pinned beneath him, and he leans down to kiss the mole just below your breast, again and again, slower each time.

“I lost you like this,” he whispers, voice cracking.

You wrap your arms around him. “You found me again.”

It’s scary how much you believe him now.

Scary how much sense it makes.

Like your body remembered before your mind did.

Like the ache in your chest wasn’t yours—it was his.

Eventually, you tell him the truth.

“I hated my moles,” you admit. “I felt like they made me look messy.”

He laughs gently, tilting your chin up. “You’re not messy. You’re written. You’re a love letter someone, I, finished in another lifetime and mailed to this one.”

One summer night, you lie in a patch of moonlight, completely bare, nothing between you but breath.

He kisses each mole slowly, thoroughly, until you’re trembling—not just from arousal, but from the intimacy of being seen like this.

When he reaches your inner thigh, he lingers.

“I never got to touch you here,” he whispers. “Not until now.”

You arch into his mouth, and he takes his time, his hands steadying you, anchoring you to this life, this love, this version of being together.

Afterward, you hold him just as gently.

You trace the mole at his jawline with your lips, whispering, “You’re mine too, you know.”

“I always was,” he says.

Some nights, when you’re half-asleep and tangled in sheets, you ask him about your past selves.

“Which one was your favourite?”

“This one,” he answers instantly.

“No,” you murmur. “I mean… before.”

He hesitates.

“You once danced barefoot in a garden. I watched you through a screen door and thought—if I could just hold you once, that would be enough.”

He kisses the mole on your shoulder blade, where you’re curled against him.

“Was it?”

“Never,” he says.

You tell your grandmother once, just before she passes:

“You were right, you know. About the moles.”

She smiles, eyes twinkling.

“I only told you what my mother told me.”

“Did she ever find her lover again?”

“She did,” she whispers, already fading.

And then: “Just once. But it was enough.”

You count them all once, together.

You name them.

He remembers their echoes.

He kisses the one below your navel and calls it “home.” The one on your inner thigh becomes “devotion.” Your wrist, “first sight.” Your shoulder blade, “loss.” Your waist, “belonging.” The one beneath your breast—“the promise.”

And his?

You call his jawline “anchor.” His rib “yearning.” His hip “gravity.” His shoulder “return.”

Years pass.

He still traces them.

When you fight, he kisses your hands.

When you cry, he finds the one on your collarbone and presses his forehead there.

When he asks you to move in, he kisses your wrist.

When you say yes, he finds the one at your waist.

And when he holds you that night—like he’s holding every version of you that ever lived—his mouth finds the one beneath your breast again.

Slow.

Tender.

Certain.

And you finally ask, breathless, “Why there?”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“That’s where I kissed you last.”

That night you fall asleep with his lips pressed just above your heart.

And you think, If we live again…

But you don’t finish the sentence.

Because now—now—is enough.

Now, your body remembers.

And his hands answer every question your skin ever carried.

© taetebebe 2025

[ambi01]

Anti-hero ✶ sjy.

Pierced through the heart, but never killed.

Summary: Jake Sim has gained his status as Decelis University's "golden boy." Intelligent, a good track of extracurriculars and organization, and did I mention good-looking? He's the front-runner to become the batch's valedictorian, and everything seems to be perfect in that way.

"You need to get laid," his roommates pointed out one day, ruining his perfectly planned college life. Thinking that his roommates were just looking out for him, Jake found himself in a world that he seems to be unfamiliar with — having a fuck buddy, and that's with a little help from you, Decelis University's "golden girl."

✰ Song Inspiration: Anti-hero by Taylor Swift, Strong Girl by Niki, The Bolter by Taylor Swift (trust me, there’s a reason why this is my song inspo.)

✰ Word Count: 26.5k (damn.)

✰ Tags: Fuck buddies to lovers, no strings attached, plot with porn, a bit of fluff and angst, some hurt/comfort, college au, scandals and rumors, Jake’s POV (but there’s some POV switching somewhere), Jake Sim is a T, (he’s so serious with everything and it’s fucking hot tbh) reader has imposter syndrome, (actually reader is also a T), they have nicknames for each other, mentions of enhypen members, OC characters. Huh Yunjin and oc character as Jake’s roommate.

✰ CW: smut, plot with porn, sub! reader, dom! jake, BIG DICK JAKE RAHHHHHH, consensual noncon (proceed with caution.) choking, oral (m receiving) public sex, shower sex, car sex, praise, kinda dirty talk, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex (pls don’t do this), use of condom…once, creampies, aftercare, cockwarming, just filthy smut, they’re so chaotic during sex.

✰ Asul’s note: Jake’s story is here! I was so in love with his character in My Kink Is Karma, and here we are now. I've tried hard with this plot and is a bit unsatisfied so I hope you'll love his story. Warning but proceed with caution since there’s a part that explicitly shows consensual noncon. Read with caution. But shitty smut ahead since I gave up detailing it midway.

Also if you have read Heeseung and Jay’s story, (If you haven’t you can check their story!) Their gfs are also the reader, but I gave them names here in Jake’s story because they have a lot of cameos in this fic. (They’re still considered as y/n in their own story.) Yeah, kinda confusing start because this wasn’t really supposed to be a series from the start, but here we are! The fourth installment of Arcanum series! Enjoy reading! :D

You can check the other member's stories here: Jay | Sunghoon | Heeseung

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @chuuyaobsessed @dearestdreamies @jakessrealwife @heeseungsgf26 @kamiliora @st4rg1rlies @fancypeacepersona @k1ttyjwon @yazmike @dulcetnostalgia

-

The last semester of the year had arrived. The air in Decelis falls coolly as spring season is about to arrive, mixing with the remnants of the cold winter, the university welcomed the students for the second semester of the academic year. 

Wearing their jackets and coats to their first day of class, Decelis University became warm as noise filled the campus. Students meeting their friends, teachers smiling as they greet their students welcome back, and couples holding hands like they’re in their own world. 

At one of the gates of Decelis, three students ran their way inside the campus, bright laughter escaping their lips as they stopped midway to catch their breath, not even caring for the students they halted on the walkway.

“Text us if you’re done okay?” Yunjin said, patting Jake’s shoulders. “We’ll be going now!”

“Bye guys,” Jake hugs his roommates before he turns around to walk towards an opposite direction — towards his department building. 

Clean and ironed uniform, his school id hung loosely around his uniform’s collar along with his neat tie which Jake, himself tied for a good minute. His square, black-rimmed glasses rested idly on his buttoned nose that complimented his overall visual. With the way he walked, his short black hair neat and proper, and how casual his smile was, it wasn’t hard for students to turn their head towards him. 

Sim Jaeyun or Jake Sim for others, is Decelis University’s “Golden Boy.” The top student of the engineering department, president of the student aid organization, a member of Decelis physics club, former soccer player — the list goes on.

No one can top his intelligence and achievements. Records full of 1 and a good moral track. He is considered as a well-disciplined student, that even the teachers love him because he’s not some top student who befriends teachers for the sake of grades. Jake was naturally intelligent and diligent in his studies. Not to mention, he has a warm aura around him, although Jake always wears a small smile or neutral expression, he is considered approachable among his peers. 

As he entered the classroom, eyes darted to him. Smile and warm greetings which he only reciprocated before sitting on the first row near the entrance. His usual seat wherein it’s enough for him to sprint out the moment the bell rings. 

With the last semester of their college life starting, professors are preparing them for all the possibilities — Latin honors, failed subjects due to unreasonable reasons, even suspension, anything that may happen in the span of five months. Jake could only listen to their professor, who also just happens to be the Dean of their department, explain everything that they should look forward to for their last days in college.

Jake, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be reacting largely compared to his classmates. His mind is thinking of his post-graduation plans — have a one-week beach trip with his friends. Go home to Australia for a break, then return to the city to review and take the board exam to get his engineering license. Get a job with a high-paying salary, and find a girlfriend somewhere there if he has time. All the usual shit that he had planned ever since he was a freshman. 

Jake has always been a planner. His perfect college life was curated based on his schedule and time, and so far, everything is coming into pieces. All he need was to not fuck-up his presidency term, attain latin honors, and follow his plan without any distractions or new ventures.

“We’re rooting for you Jake,” their department dean laughs. A bright smile was only Jake could give as the old man pats his back. “No one can top your excellence, not only in our department, but the whole university.”

“Thank you for the kind words sir,” Jake answered, having heard that since last year. 

“That valedictorian is for you, and I’m going to use all my powers to make sure that it’ll be yours,” with a short pat on his back, Jake watched as the Department Dean walked away. His smile immediately turns into a thin line as he returns back to his classroom.

Jake Sim never planned to become the valedictorian of their batch — nor did he work hard to become Decelis’ “Golden Boy.” It just so happens that he has a lot of extracurriculars, is smart, and probably has a good personality, hence, giving him that unofficial title. There were a lot of contenders for that title, that’s why Jake wondered why it was given to him. Maybe it just happens that everyone fawns over him. 

He didn’t mind the attention, but it did place a lot of pressure on him. It meant that everyone is watching every move he makes, and he knows being known meant one thing — one wrong move may cause your entire downfall. But it’s not like he’s going to do some rash actions, Jake knows he’s not stupid to put himself in trouble. 

After class, Jake finds himself in the club room of the student aid organization, which is just an information and help center for students and incoming students, except it’s being led by students. Jake volunteered to become part of it since it helped him tremendously when he was just a lost, foreign student back in his freshman year — never would he think that he’ll end up as its president. 

But it feels nice helping other students, everyone in the organization is a helping hand, and the overall vibe was healthy and light. That’s why instead of stressing himself with the grievances, Jake finds joy in the organization. 

As he opened the door, the place was a bit crowded. Some students need some help while his staff are busy helping them. Jake greets them warmly, asking if there’s any problem and so far, everything’s good. 

Jake sat by the table beside Jiwon, who’s the executive assistant of his team. A smile greeted him as he placed his bag down. 

“Most of them are just problems regarding enrollment and transfers, you know, the usual problem we encounter during the first few weeks of the sem,” the girl explained as soon as Jake sat on the table. Having worked together since freshman, they’ve memorized each other that Jiwon knew what to do without Jake giving her instruction.

“They’re fewer than last sem, thank god because last sem was stressful,” Jake muttered which only left a chuckle on Jiwon’s lips. 

“Well, we got new students last semester, that’s why it was stressful,” Jiwon replied. “Oh by the way, I’ll be clocking out around four-thirty.”

“Let me guess, you have a date with Heeseung?” Jake pointed out, and only a blush on the cheeks was her answer. “You know, you didn’t have to tell me all of this.”

“I have to, what if you keep looking for me!? You can barely function without me.” the girl teased making Jake smile. He knows himself that he can't function without his assistant.

“Shut up, I can handle all of this, go have fun with your date.”

Work continued until one by one, his staff told him that they’ll be going now. Same excuse from them — dates, hanging out with friends, even family events, which Jake doesn’t mind. He knows that the organization shouldn’t be their top priority. It’s just an extracurricular for extra credits and something that you can put in your work resume. 

Jake remained alone inside the club room. The soft lofi music coming from his laptop serves as a noise while he sorts the reports. The sun is about to set and he’s on the last grievance that they received today. After this, he’ll be meeting his roommates by the Pho stall for dinner. 

Jake looks towards the window, watching the campus life unfold in front of him. He sees a group of friends laughing with each other, some are by the benches eating some snacks. He watches as teachers run their way towards their next class, while some student couples are having too much display of affection. A bitter smile formed on his lips as he realized that he’s alone inside the club room.

Will his remaining months in Decelis be like this? Jake feels like his college life is missing something. Is it the thrill? The fun? But he has friends though. They go out and drink during their free time. He parties when he can. That’s the thrill right? Jake stopped his task, deeply pondering on his thoughts.

“And it irritates me,” Jake opened up. 

The coffee table is filled with opened bags of chips. Empty bottles of soju scattered on the floor, while cans of beer remained on the table. On the couch sat Yunjin, Aera, and Jake who are all huddled up, alcohol on their system.

“So let me get this straight,” Yunjin started, sitting upwards to glance at Jake. “You, Mr. Decelis University’s Golden Boy, is lacking something? Dude you’ve got it all, what else is missing!?”

“I don’t know either! That’s why I’m telling you guys this!” Jake frustratedly shouted.

Aera laughs loudly, before clapping her hands as she points at Jake. “I know what it is!”

“That sounds like a bad idea.” Jake commented.

“You need to get laid!” Aera delightedly announced.

Jake cringed, “Yeah, bad idea.”

“No it’s not! You probably have a lot of pent-up frustrations in your body! Jake, when was the last time you even jerked off?” Aera boldly asked, Jake scrunches his nose out of disgust while Yunjin laughs out loud. 

“We’re absolutely not going to talk about that.” he takes a chug on his beer while Aera rolls her eyes. 

“Come on, it’s scientifically proven that having orgasms can release serotonin or whatever happy hormones we have, but you get my point!”

Aera continued laughing, while Yunjin and Jake only remained quiet, convincing themselves that their roommate is so drunk that she started to blurt random stuff. 

“She’s just telling that because she has a boyfriend now,” Jake explained, before taking a few chips. 

“Well she’s not wrong,” Yunjin asked, making Jake side-eye her. “Having sex can be a form of stress reliever. I bet that you have a lot of stress in your body that parties and alcohol cannot relieve.”

“And you guys think that sex is the answer?”

“What else is the answer? You used to love sleeping around back when we were freshmen, you were so carefree back then and now, you look…so pent-up Jake. I know that you have a lot on your sleeve right now, but that’s probably why you don’t notice that you’re pent-up. You need to loosen up! Find romance and pleasure!” Aera spoke enthusiastically. 

“I am not getting myself a girlfriend during the last semester of my college, do you know that college couples tend to break up after graduation?” Jake stated.

“And I hope that doesn’t happen to me and Jay, but Jake, you don’t need a girlfriend, maybe you just need someone who you only exclusively hookup with.” Aera rebutted.

“Like a fuck buddy?” Yunjin asked.

“Yeah, a fuck buddy! There’s nothing wrong with it, you have a fuck buddy Yunjin right?” Aera pointed out. 

“Oh right, I can vouch for that. Remember Chaewon? Yeah, we were fuck buddies since sophomore.” Yunjin casually shared, making Jake glance at her, surprised. 

“Up until now? I thought you two were together?” and that sentence made Yunjin laugh.

“We’re not. It’s a no-string attached agreement. We only meet each other to have sex, that’s the agreement! No dates, no emotional attachment. Just sex.” Yunjin explained. 

Jake becomes quiet for a moment. His roommates made some points. Maybe he does need to get laid, or have sex, or maybe find a fuck buddy who can relief all his stress. Seeing that it doesn’t affect Yunjin at all with her long-time fuck buddy, maybe it can be applied to him too. 

He’s not sure if it’ll work, but there’s no harm in trying, right? His roommates may be chaotic most of the time, but they know him from some angles that he doesn’t notice. 

“So, how do I even find that?” Jake asked, making his roommates freeze.

“Wait, you’re seriously going to do it?” Yunjin asked, appalled.

Jake shrugs, “well, if yours works, maybe it’ll work for me? I hope so?”

“Just go to a dating app, a lot of students use that — wait, let’s set it up for you.” Yunjin suggested, and the next thing they knew, they installed a popular dating app called Blind. Both roommates helped in creating Jake’s profile, something that will make him look decent, not just some random fuckboy. 

“Holy shit, this is so exciting! You’re finally getting some action Jake Sim!” Aera excitingly shouts, shaking Jake’s shoulder which only made the three of them laugh.

-

Jake stared at a profile of a girl. She’s fine, pretty, and shorter than him. She’s not from Decelis but she’s alright. He wondered if he should swipe left or right for a minute before swiping to the left. 

He found it impressive how Blind can show him preferences, starting from their height up to their intentions on the app. Yunjin wrote his profile as someone who’s looking for something casual, stating that if he placed that if he’s there for a hookup, he’ll end up looking like a horndog — which he wasn’t. 

Jake’s been in the app since last night. Yunjin helped him picked some girls along with Aera, and one thing he learned was that it was hard to find the right girl that he could ask to be his fuck buddy. He had matched with some other girls, took the courage to flirt (though most of the time Yunjin was the one who’s writing the message,) but it seems like it’s not working on his side.

“Hey pres!” a feminine voice greets, startling Jake who tightly grips on his phone.

Jake immediately closed his phone before looking up to see you standing there in front of him. You have a wide smile on your face. Makeup neat with an excessive amount of blush but it suits your round cheeks. Your black shoulder bag hangs on your left shoulder along with the trinkets and keychains on its handle.

If Jake Sim was Decelis University’s Golden Boy, you’re the female version of him — the Golden Girl. A senior communications student, you’re one of the top students of your department. You have a bright and friendly aura around you. During sophomore year, you welcomed students back when you were a radio jock in Decelis 1009 radio station which also led you to opportunities to host a lot of school events.

You’re also part of the student aid, a huge helping hand to other students that you’ve become its vice president this term. Last year, you were hailed as Decelis University’s “Selene.” which was a pageant to become Decelis University’s official student model and image. With your beauty and brains, along with your popularity, you’ve won the heart of every student and staff in the university. Which also hailed you the golden title. 

Although you and Jake hold the title, the two of you were never linked with each other. Both living in two different worlds, you two were only acquainted due to the student aid organization. Jake finds you nice, a bit talkative, but he sees that you have a lot of confidence and boldness in you. 

“You weren’t here yesterday,” Jake said sternly.

“I did remember sending you a message that I had a short interview at 1009 radio station,” you grinned before glancing at his phone. “You seem to be busy with something.”

“It’s nothing.” Jake answered immediately.

You raised an eyebrow, “Nothing really? Scrolling through a dating app during class hours? That’s so not you pres.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “How did you —”

“Funny, at first thought, someone is impersonating you but it really is you,” you said, hands resting on your hips as you looked at Jake teasingly. 

“What?” the boy asked, surprised.

You let out a small laugh before grabbing your phone. You opened your phone and showed Jake its screen — a screenshot of his Blind profile. You noticed how his eyes widened further, but as he glanced at you, his expression became neutral once again. 

“You’re there too?” Jake blurted out, and you amusingly tilted your head. 

“Why wouldn’t I be there? I use it when I’m bored and pent-up, it’s a place for hook-ups, not all are looking for serious relationships here.”

“What makes you think I’m looking for a serious relationship in Blind?” Jake rebutted. 

Now, it was your turn to be surprised. “You weren’t?”

Jake stares at you for a minute. He wonders if it’s worth sharing to someone he’s not that close to, but you seem to be open to this topic so he only clicks his tongue as he looks at his phone. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but my friends, they convinced me that I need to get laid because I’m all stressed and they think sex is the solution.”

You stifled a laugh, but Jake’s expression never faltered, so you held yourself back but your grin was too obvious. “And you believed them?” 

“Never know until proven true, so yeah, here I am scrolling through hundreds of profiles until I find a decent girl who’s I don’t know, won’t be intimidated to have sex with me,” Jake casually explained. 

“I can do it for you.” you casually replied.

That’s when Jake glances back at you, who blinked at him innocently. He was waiting for you to say that you were joking, but you only smiled at him. 

“I’m not kidding pres, instead of finding another stranger who you have to make connections with, why don’t you go with someone who, let’s just say, is already acquainted with you?”

You made good points with your reason. The first problem Jake faced was finding a decent girl who he won’t be awkward with. Sex is still intimacy, and knowing that it’s been so long since he even touched a girl, he knows that this is a challenge to him. 

With you proposing to him, he quickly thought about it for a minute. You, who is ironically the girl version of him, is offering to be his fuck buddy. You seem to be chill about this one, and it did surprise him that you’re into this kind of setup. 

Noticing that the atmosphere has becoming too quiet, you only cleared your throat before saying, “I’ll give you time pres, but my offer still stands —”

“Wait,” Jake halted you immediately. “Sorry, I’m just really new to this kind of setup. This doesn’t make you uncomfy? Especially when we’re orgmates too.”

“Whatever happens inside the room, remains in the room. That’s my rule.” you smiled. “We can talk more about our setup of course, we’re not only complying with my rules, you should set boundaries too.”

“Okay,” Jake breathes, nodding as it seems like he’s set with having you as his fuck buddy. “How soon should we…you know?”

But you only laughed, “so you’re taking my offer huh?”

“This is better than finding some girls on Blind.” Jake reasoned out. “Let’s talk more tonight? How’s that sound?”

“Already? I don’t mind, if you’re already down to fuck, but you need to buy condoms for us,” you winked. “We got to stay safe pres.”

Jake would never have thought that conversation would lead him to cleaning their dorm. Their floor has always been clean since the three of them are clean freaks, but Jake has to make sure that it’s squeaky clean before you arrive. 

It was his first time clocking out of the organization on time too. His roommates coming home to him doing a last minute vacuuming on the floor. That’s when they realized what the hell was going on with their only male roommate. 

“I can’t believe that we were just talking about it last night and you already found one,” Aera spoke up while tying her shoes. 

“And here you are, kicking us out because your fuck buddy is coming,” Yunjin fakingly sobs.

To ease your first meeting, Jake bribed his roommates to have the flat all by himself for that night, (and fortunately, they agreed, knowing that they advised him to do so in the first place.) Jake knows where the two will end up staying the night, so it’s still a win for the three of them. 

“I’ll treat you guys with ice cream tomorrow, don't worry,” Jake compensated, sitting on the couch as he had changed into a shirt and sweatpants. His legs thumping nervously as he glanced at the clock. It’s almost 7:30 in the evening, which was your agreed time. 

And before his roommates could go, a ring on the doorbell stopped the three of them. Aera, who’s just near the door, opens it, surprising you who’s standing in front of the door. 

“Y/n hi!” Aera brightly greeted, having familiar with your face, before turning back at Jake, mouthing “what the fuck!?” 

Yunjin stood there frozen, surprised that Jake’s fuck buddy is none other than Decelis’ golden girl, talking about small world. It really has to be you out of the thousands of available girls in the city. She gasps in disbelief while Jake stood up from his seat. 

“Come in,” Jake gestured. Aera opens the door wider for you to step inside, both his female roommate stared at you making you wary. It didn’t cross your mind that Jake had female roommates, and that made you somehow confused with your setup with him. 

“Hi I’m Yunjin, and this is Aera, we’re Jake’s roommates, but don’t worry! We’ll be going out, you have the place all by yourself,” Yunjin greeted all of the sudden, and you felt embarrassed intruding on their place just because you can’t offer yours. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry for intruding too,” you immediately apologized but Yunjin only smiled as she and Aera grabbed their bags. 

“No worries for us! It’s been a while since Jake brought a girl to our place, so enjoy! We’ll see you guys at school!” Aera laughed, waving goodbye to the two of them before leaving the place. 

You stood there frozen before you turned around to see Jake groaning in disbelief. 

“So,” you cleared your throat. “Why didn’t you just ask them —”

“Aera is Jay’s girlfriend, and Yunjin’s a lesbian.” Jake quickly explained. 

“Oh.” you’re not familiar with most of the students in Decelis. But you did remember that there was gossip last semester that Arcanum’s Jay was dating someone, and turns out, it’s Jake’s roommate. While you do recognize Yunjin since she’s part of Decelis Theater. 

“They’re the ones who told me to get laid.” Jake added. “They’re also like sisters to me, that’s why.” 

Another “Oh” escapes your lips. You thought that it’s those male friends of Jake that convinced him to this setup. Now, you found yourself in a more awkward situation. 

“Do you want some ramen?”

A moment of silence hovered between the two of you before you spoke. “What?”

“You seem tense, have you eaten dinner yet?” he offered, sounding genuine with his words. 

“Really — I mean, ramen?” you laughed because of his words. Usually, your casual hookups is just you showing up to your hookup’s place, fuck, and then go home. The usual quickie or sex wherein both bodies do the work, while your mouth sucks their dick instead of talking to them. No string attached, only bodily pleasures, and it works all the time.

But then again, this is the first time you and Jake will be meeting. Plus, this isn’t just a hookup, this is a fuck buddy set-up — a temporary monogamous situation for you. So you agreed, and that’s why you found yourself by the kitchen, watching Jake grab a pack of Buldak Carbonara, with him sharing you a homemade recipe of his. 

“So, how about we talk about it?” Jake suggested as he waits for the noodles to cook. “How do we even do this? I’m sorry, I’m really new to this.”

You only smile at him. He still maintains his professional talking voice that he’s been using to everyone else. Your mind started to wonder what would his voice sound like in bed — would he be making sounds that’s far from the serious and stoic Jake Sim?

“It’s okay, I’m here to help you,” you assured. “Let’s start from the very start. Do you want this to be an exclusive thing? Just the two of us?”

Jake became quiet for a second, “I’m going to keep it exclusive for me but I don’t mind if you sleep with other guys.” 

“Okay, since you’re going to stay loyal, I’m going to stay loyal too,” you smiled, hoping that you’re not going to regret it. “This is a no-string attached set-up, we’ll only meet for sex, and it has to be mutually consented too, is that okay with you?”

Jake only nods, busying himself with his cooking. The smell of the buldak sauce steaming inside the kitchen. You stopped for a second because Jake hands you a bowl of his carbonara buldak risotto. Murmuring your thanks, you took a bite on it and had your eyes wide open. 

“This tastes good,” you shared, while Jake quietly smiles before eating his own food. 

“Oh by the way, we shouldn’t do things like this,” you added. 

“Why not?”

“Because this is too wholesome! We’re here to fuck, not act like lovers.” 

“Alright, what else?”

“Any kinks you have in your mind?”

Jake almost spat out his ramen. He looks at you who only gave him an innocent stare. 

“Why? If we’re going to fuck, then we should atleast make each other feel good!” you pointed out before a thought crosses your mind. “Oh my god don’t tell me you’re still a virgin?”

“No, I’m not,” Jake coughs. “I just forgot what I’m into.”

That’s when you let out another laugh. “Jake Sim you’re really something else. When was the last time you even had sex?”

Jake became quiet for a moment. “Uhm…summer before junior year.” he barely recalled it. It was just a drunken one night stand. On a three-day-and-two-night trip to the beach with his friends. He was drunk, flirted with a stranger, and had sex, and before the sun had risen, he left the hotel room. 

“Woah, that long huh?” you smiled. “You never thought of having a girlfriend?”

“It’s proven that college couples tend to break up after graduation,” Jake repeated. At the same time, Jake thinks that he couldn’t prioritize commitment when he has a lot of things to focus on. 

“Not now, but during that duration,” you pointed, and that question made Jake quiet. 

“I did like someone back in junior year,” he confessed. “But she — someone else got her first.”

“Do you still like her?”

“Of course not anymore,” Jake only smiled bitterly. Regrets rushing into his heart. “She’s my friend’s girlfriend — they got together last year coincidentally. From there, I threw away my feelings immediately.”

“She must be lucky that you like her.”

“I feel like she’s happier with my friend now.” 

Silence faltered inside the kitchen. You only stared at the half-full bowl before taking another bite. You couldn’t even think of another word to say. 

“What about you?” Jake asked, making you glance at him. ��What about your kinks? Let’s not delve into our lovelife since we’re not here to act like lovers.”

A faint blush rushed on your cheeks, usually things like this will be discussed during sex, during the heat of the moment, so it felt weird saying it out of blue. “It’s embarrassing.”

“How can I make you feel good when I don’t know what you want?”

“Fine, I’m submissive. Use me however you want, rough that it’ll leave me limping. Choke me, that’ll make me cum, but don’t you ever use degrading words, that’ll make me cry.” 

“So, that means you’re into praise? Like good girl or something?”

You became quiet. Jake quickly observes how you stared at him, eyes wide. You can feel your heart beating fast, words stuck at your throat as Jake’s words keep replaying in your mind. 

“That fast? I’m surprised,” Jake teasingly said. “What else?” 

“Let’s talk about it the other time, but that summarizes what I want during sex,” you explained. 

Jake hums for a moment. “Alright. Then should we discuss our setup somewhere more, private?”

Your heart beats faster than before. You only nod as both you and Jake left the bowls on the sink, before following him towards his room. 

You’re used to a guy’s room. The smell, the mess, and probably unwashed sheets for weeks. You didn’t care about it during sex, but after sex? Those guys are getting blocked. Personal hygiene is your number one must, and if Jake Sim’s room is a mess, then he’ll just have to kiss this setup bye-bye. 

As Jake opens his room, you’re surprised to see a clean and neat room that smells like sandalwood and men’s perfume. His bed is neatly done, bedsheets in navy blue and white. Side table filled with nothing but a night lamp. On a corner is a pc set-up and a study table where his books are placed on a small shelf along with some pencil holder and his laptop. 

Of course this is Jake Sim that we’re talking about. He holds a good reputation in your university so he’s likely cleaner than the rest of the guys you’ve slept with before. 

Jake sits on the edge of the bed, watching you look around his room, probably amazed by it. Then, you turned around and smiled at him before sitting next to him. 

“So, anymore questions?” you asked. 

“You told me that you can’t offer your place, you live with your parents?” Jake asked. 

“Not my parents, but my older sister. It’s a one bed apartment room, that’s why I can’t offer mine. I don’t mind hotel rooms but I don’t do cheap ones Jake, so if you want it, we can do it here,” you explained, then another thought flew inside your mind. “Why? Do you like public sex or something?”

Jake only shakes his head. “I’m not going to throw my roommates everytime we do it, so being quiet is an option.”

You stared at his lips before glancing back at his stare, you shifted your body towards him, knees touching each other as you lean close to him. “Don’t worry, I can be quiet.” 

You two stare at each other for a minute. No one said a thing. You were waiting for him to say another word, while he only slowly observed you.

Then, Jake teasingly grins, which is a new, unfamiliar expression for you, “you seem eager to get fucked tonight.” 

“If you don’t want it, I don’t mind,” you smirked. “We can take things slow pres.”

That nickname. That damn nickname that always electrifies him. Jake’s ears deafened as the vixen smile on your lips widened. 

“I bet you want to call me other names,” Jake said, suddenly there’s a change in the atmosphere. You held your breath as his hands gently rested on your thighs, thumb caressing your bare skin while the smile on his lips became a smirk. 

“Pres? Sir? Daddy? While I call you a good girl as you take my dick inside your tiny little hole? You want that baby?” his deep, raspy voice sent chills through your spine. Your heart started beating fast, minding starting to float — wondering what it feels like to hear more of his heavent-sent voice praising you. 

But you didn’t want to back down that easily, so a scoff in disbelief was your answer.

“Maybe it’s you who wants to be called those names,” you spat back at him. Hands finding its way towards his jawline, your sharp, acrylic nails cupping his cheeks while Jake remains unfazed, his eyes shifted immediately to a bored one.

It’s dangerous. You’re convinced that Jake’s dangerous for you. He’s not rushing anything. Guys usually just throw you to bed and fuck you senselessly, while Jake only sat there, lazy eyes staring at you. Tempting and alluring like he’s teasing you to take the lead.

He doesn’t move. He’s patient with you, like he’s waiting for your next move. And it only leaves you impatient and wetter than before. You only glanced at his lips, luscious and thick, thumb grazing on its soft skin, cursing why Jake Sim has to be so perfect?

“You want it?” he whispered to you, voice crashing in you like a siren. 

“Please…” you only breathed, tone high-pitched almost on the edge of whining that Jake chuckled darkly because of it. 

A throb on your heart was all you felt as he crashed his lips on yours. Gently, he cups your face as he tilts his head, pressing his lips as it starts moving to get a taste of you. You kissed him back with much force, lips expertly responding to his kiss.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck before you moved to his lap, hips immediately moving against his thigh to feel him underneath, only for Jake to groan against your mouth. The sudden movement of your hips flinches him. 

Jake knows that it’s been a while since he had sex, he barely recalls when was the last time that he had masturbated. Due to his hectic schedule and tired body, it never crossed in his mind to pleasure himself. He’d rather sleep than rub it away.

Maybe his roommates were right, his pent-up frustration is just him being sexually frustrated. Maybe it’s the peer pressure too. While his peers are living their life in adventures and parties, his college life becomes too nerdy and academic-focused that it leaves him too serious to deal with emotional attachments like love or pleasure. 

But in Jake’s mind, what’s the point? Can he even have a girlfriend when he himself is too tired with his other priorities? Aera was right to advise that he just needs to get laid, at least with the no-strings attachment, he doesn’t have to deal with its aftermath. 

His hands find its way through your hair, brushing it softly until he tugs it out of nowhere, earning a moan from you. He pulls your face away from him — his stare at you menacing and that both knew that something awakened in Jake.

But it only made you needy, biting your lips before crashing your lips onto him, rough and aggressive which he reciprocated, hips bucking upwards to meet your clothed cunt. His tongue slipped out of his and slid its way inside yours, battling inside your mouth as whimpers escaped from you.

You pulled away from him. Eager for more, you could only tug his hair, staring at him darkly and boldly. “Don’t hold back on me,” you challenged. “I’m not fragile Jake Sim, let all your frustrations out on me.”

That was the trigger. The way you begged for him, and recalling all the kinks that you said to him. He found you not only bold but also a pleaser. — and that made him want you to writhe underneath his touch.

What is it like to have the golden girl on her knees and worship him? “Get on your knees,” Jake ordered. Almost throwing you away from his lap. You scurried your way down to the floor, knees touching the soft rug underneath as Jake stood up. Hands caressing your head as you look up at him, round sparkling eyes that’s ready to submit to him. 

“Show me how good you are at pleasing a guy.” Jake unties the drawstrings of his sweatpants, pulling it down until it hits the floor.

You only stared at the tent on his boxer, eyes filled with curiosity on his cock, making you glanced back at Jake. 

“Come on, show pres how good you are, vice,” he smirked, and the nickname only sent chills to your cunt. Never would you think he’ll give a good rebut with your nickname for him.

But you’re used to this. That’s why in one big tug, you pulled down his boxer, eyes wide at his hard length. Out of all the dicks you’ve seen, this might be the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s beautiful, looking straight out of a porn video. Its mushroom tip is enough to tear your pussy apart. You unknowingly let out a small mewl as you wrapped your hands around it, stroking it lightly before you sinked it inside your mouth.

You wasted no time. Licking all the length that your mouth could reach. Cheeks hollow as you suck it in and out before releasing it with a loud pop. strings of saliva connecting your mouth and its tip. You lightly stroke it, teasing it around your fingers as you squeeze its tip, feeling the way it twitches as you do the action. 

You looked up to Jake and saw how unamused he is. Like he’s not satisfied with it, so you slowly let out your tongue. Giving soft kitten licks around his cock without breaking eye contact with him. You can see how he’s holding back, so in one swift motion, you swallow his cock once again and start sucking it in a fast motion. 

In contrast, Jake is slowly losing his mind. His cock is has become sensitive, soft groans started escaping his lips as you continue bobbing your mouth in and out. It’s warm and tight, and he loved the way your tongue licked along your movement. 

He bucked his hips to meet your mouth, a whimper escaping your lips as he continued thrusting it, loving the way his tip hits the back of your throat. That’s when he decided to pull out of your mouth, dick twitching as you only had your brows furrowed. 

“What happened —” you weren’t able to finish your sentence when Jake pulled you towards the edge of the bed, your back hitting against it as Jake stood in front of you. Its erected cock just an inch away from your mouth. 

“Open your mouth, tongue out,” Jake ordered using his usual professional tone. You’re not going to deny that it just sent your cunt throbbing. As you opened your mouth with your tongue out he slammed his cock inside yours. The sudden action caused you to bump your head against the side of the bed. Jake holds his dick inside you for a few seconds, feeling it twitch as Jake groans in satisfaction. 

“Fuck —” Jake moans, finding hold on his bed as his hips started to fuck your throat roughly. His tip hitting the back of your throat that it’ll leave your voice hoarse tomorrow. His thrust was erratic, you’re slowly feeling yourself dizzy by the way his dick suffocated you.

Your head continued bumping against the bed and mattress while your hands could only grip against the rug as your legs started to writhe. Your pussy’s throbbing that it hurts, wanting to touch it but you’re patient as you let Jake use you first. 

A gagging whimper escapes your lips as Jake sheathes inside you once again, holding it for a few seconds before pulling out and thrusting inside you again. 

“Look at you good girl, taking my cock so well,” Jake smirked, his thrust has becoming sloppy as he can feel his dick twitching, readying himself to cum, he pounds into you relentlessly and he swore that he never felt this fucking good.

“Fuck, drink my cum, take it,” he breathlessly moans, thrusting a few times until he felt his orgasm crash. The feeling was so new that his loud groan echoed around the room. Jake grips on the sheets tightly as his stomach tightens, hips pushing forward to sandwich you between him and the side of the bed. You couldn’t escape, eyes rolling upwards as his cum spilled downwards your throat, forcing you to drink the bittersweet liquid. Choking as the mouthful of cum was too much that your eyes started to water while drool dripped out of your mouth. 

Jake pulls out his twitching cock, still hard and aching while you gasp for air. Slowly, you can feel his hands on your hair before he pulls your chin upwards to look at him. Smiling at you devilishly like he’s proud to see your messed-up face with drool and cum on your lips.

“You did good,” Jake mumbled and you could only whine from the praise. 

“Don’t worry pretty girl, you’ll get a reward from me,” and before you could say any word, Jake lifted you up to his bed. He cages you between his arms and glances at him.

His hands went tracing the outline of your body, towards your stomach until it reached the button of your shorts, but before he could even open it, you called him out, eyes darting at you immediately. 

“You’re not going to eat me,” you told him. “Nope, I don’t do that.”

Jake’s face distorted into a confused one. “You’ll let my dick inside your mouth but not the other way around?”

“I find it weird!” you reasoned out, before grabbing his hands. Seeing its long, slender fingers along with the pulsing veins brought an idea in you. “Look, it’s either you just drill your dick inside me or use your fingers, just not your mouth, I’m not going to let a man’s mouth near my private area.” 

Jake could only laugh in disbelief. Someday, he’ll get you to let him eat you out, but for now, he’ll just let his fingers do the work. 

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered, before turning around to place his glasses on his side table, taking off his shirt and kicking his sweatpants out of his ankles. 

Jake turns around to see you sprawled on the bed. He stopped for a second. God, you look like a goddess with your body, but what amazes Jake more is your confidence as you only gave him a seductive smile. Your nipples were already erect against your breasts, which Jake unconsciously grabs the left side, fondling with it as his thumb grazes on it, sending shivers to you.

Slowly, he pushes you down the mattress, sitting beside you as his hands trailed all over your body. Hitching your breath as you watched his gorgeous hands feather on your stomach and stop just right on your pussy. 

“Keep your legs open for me,” he ordered and you did so. Legs sprawled as his fingers slid on your core. A dark chuckle escaping his lips — “fuck, you’re soaking wet already, did you got wet sucking me of?”

“Yes,” you mewled. “Please Jake — need you.”

But Jake hushes you, slender fingers sliding up and down its lips. “Stay still for me or you won't get to cum.”

And a soft whine escapes your lips. “That’s not fair.” 

The next thing you knew, his free hand was around your neck, a moan escaping on your lips as his fingers dipped on the right place.

“Stay still.” he said with a serious tone and you could only whine as Jake rubs your clit in a circular motion. His hands dipped further on the side of your neck, strong arms keeping you still as you shut your eyes while his fingers do magic in pleasuring you. 

“Jake —” another moan escapes your lips as you feel him slide two fingers easily inside you. Immediately pumping in and out before pulling it out. Opening your eyes to see Jake licking your slick out of his lips, his eyes locked at you as he removed his fingers out of his mouth with a small pop.

“You taste fucking good and you’re not going to let me taste it?” he teased, you could only shake your head as answer and Jake understood it already — he’ll be patient, but for now, it’s all about pleasuring you. 

He places his fingers inside you again, making you arch your back as he slides his fingers in and out, scissoring your walls open making you moan as both hands are doing god’s work to make you feel good. You watched as his left hand remained in your neck, holding you down so that you won’t move, large hands and pink knuckles wrapped around you making you hold onto it. 

“You like my hand that much?” Jake laughs, and a breathy “yes” was all you could answer. 

A loud cry left escaped your lips as Jake inserted another finger inside your pussy. You never tried having three fingers shoved inside you and it only stretched you wider. His pace became faster as it began to pump in and out, curling at a spot that made you legs shake — that’s when Jake knew. He remained at his pace, abusing the spot as he heard your uneven breathing, feeling you writhe against his hold. 

“Need to stretch you wide baby,” Jake darkly taunted, leaning against your ears as he whispered. “Going to make sure your pretty pussy can take my whole cock.”

That took you to cum, legs shaking as his finger fastened its pace when he felt your pussy clamming. You cry out his name making him slam your head deeper on the mattress using his other hand, tightening his grip that the pleasure from both actions only made you moan mutedly. 

Jake removes both his hands from you, legs still shaking as you try to catch on your breath. You closed your eyes as you felt Jake’s large hands patting your hair as a form of comfort, he leaned and kissed your lips which you immediately reciprocated, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck while you two got lost in each other’s taste. 

“Fuck me please,” you whispered against your kisses, and you could only feel Jake smile before leaving another breathy kiss on you. He separates from you as you watch as Jake grabs something from his drawer, you leaned on to see him sheathe the condom on his shaft. 

He glances back at you, and your heart starts beating fast. Damn it. You curse internally. Wondering how the fuck Jake still looks so fucking handsome despite the disheveled hair and flushed face. You can’t help but rub your thighs together as your eyes remain at Jake. 

He’s handsome, smart, and serious. He respects you but at the same time complies with your kinks. Even his performance and dick exceeded your expectations. You feel like you’ve hit the jackpot when you offered him to be his fuck buddy. 

“What position do you want?” he asked.

“Missionary,” basic, but you wanted the guy to do all the work. Smiling back at him as you asked his preference. 

“I’m okay with any, let’s just go with yours,” Jake said, smiling before pulling your legs towards him. 

You only lay down as Jake stretches your legs open, resting it on his strong thighs as he kneels in front of you. His eyes staring at your wet pussy before he positions his cock on your entrance. You could only bite your lips as you watch his tip disappear inside your cunt. Feeling it stretch your walls, already clasping for more, making Jake groan. 

“Shit — you want my dick so bad?” 

“More — Jake, please,” you whined. 

Jake slides his dick inside you within a second, earning a sultry moan from you as this is the first time you ever felt so full. He started his pace fast immediately, both hands on your waist as he lifted you like a ragdoll. Pounding on your warm walls, moaning with the way your pussy clamps his cock. 

“Jake — ugh — rougher please —” you weren’t able to continue your words when Jake wraps his hands on your neck once again. Followed by a sharp thrust, Jake leans over you with a serious expression as his grip tightens, knocking you out of breath making both your hands grab onto it, trying to grasp for air but at the same time, your pussy tightens around his cock. 

“You’re going to take my cock however you like, got it?” he ordered and you could only cry as his thrust became rougher like you wanted it. Eyes rolling in pleasure as he continued to abuse your holes.

Jake’s thrust hits right where you want it, his moans dragging out of his lips as he shut his eyes harshly. The pleasure was becoming too intense for him, your walls were sucking him harshly, warm and soft against his hard length. He can feel stomach tightening, dick twitching as a sign that he’s going to cum. 

Jake choked on his breath as he continued pounding inside your pussy, his shaft sliding in and out as your cries became louder. If it wasn’t enough, Jake pushes you down the bed, fingers pressing hard on each side making you arch your back. He can feel your legs kicking its way out, your hands trying to remove his hand around your neck but he only tilts his head in amusement, hips never stopping its movement.

“Jake! Fuck! —” you started babbling incoherent words. Eyes wet with tears as you tried to get away from his grasp. 

“You’re gonna cum now?” Jake amused, using his free hand to circle his thumb on your clit, earning a loud cry from you. 

“Please — I want —”

“You can cum pretty girl,” he whispered darkly. “You did so good, so you deserve to cum.”

You let out a muted moan as you stop writhing from his touch but instead, you started shaking. Jake lets go of his hand from your neck and replaces it with his lips, leaving feathered kisses as he continues to thrust inside your tight pussy. 

“Jake hhhh — too much!” you pleaded, feeling sensitive from your orgasm.  

“Just wait alright? You’re a good girl, you can hold it for me right?” he convinced, and those words only went straight to your abused cunt, nodding as Jake thrusts became uneven. It didn’t take a while before he let out a pornographic moan as he cums inside the condom. 

Jake was catching his breath as he lay down beside you. The heated atmosphere was followed by a quiet yet awkward silence. The two of you only stared at the ceiling, energy dying down along with the tension around.

“Woah” he could only say, both of you letting out a small laugh after sinking in what just happened between the two of you. 

Your eyes are drilling holes on the ceiling as you feel satisfied yet wanting for more. The sex was intense. You loved the way his cock abused your hole but it felt like it wasn’t enough. 

“Jake —” you hesitated for a second, looking at him who immediately caught your words.

“You want another round?” he asked, almost smiling. 

“Please?” your eyes pleading innocently that it made Jake’s dick twitch. A sharp inhale escapes his lips as your hand reaches for his half-hard cock, stroking it lightly before pulling the soiled rubber away.

“Want you more,” you said softly like a kid asking for candy.

“Of course pretty girl,” a kiss on your temple was all you got before he reached his drawer once again — but his actions stopped when you pulled his arms. 

“I want it raw,” you said. “Want you to fill me. Please Jake, we’re safe. I’m on birth control.”

Jake felt like his ears deafened with his words. You look at him with the pout on your lips becoming visible as you continue to stroke his dick, palming his tip and squeezing it at every chance you can. 

“Fuck — you want it raw?” Jake asked in disbelief. 

You nodded feverishly. You never tried raw. Even though you’re using birth control, you still need to be extra careful, that’s why condom is a must when it comes to your hookups. 

But with Jake, something in you is asking to be impaled by him raw. You wanted his semen to fill you up full and warm. You want to feel his seeds inside you — like how it felt earlier on your mouth. 

It didn’t take a second for Jake to grab you by the waist and flip you. You had your stomach flat while Jake raises your hips, ass up in the air as his hands are on the curve of it. A sudden slap on your right cheek made you whine, and if it wasn’t enough — Jake shoved his dick inside your pussy without a warning. 

His hands gripped on your waist tightly, thrusting in and out harshly, watching as his dick disappeared inside your pussy while your ass bounced against his groin. Jake groans at the sight as your walls felt more heavenly without the condom. 

“Should’ve said earlier —” Jake grunts. “I’ll fill you full baby, you’re going to be a good girl and take all my cum right vice?” 

“Fuck —”

“Look how you’re sucking pres’ dick, you really fucking want this do you?” he pulls a fistful of your hair making you whine in pleasure. 

“Yes! God! fill me up pres!” you shouted loudly. You felt another slap on your ass as Jake continued drilling his dick inside you. Hitting your deepest part that no one had ever reached. 

“Take it like the good girl you are.”

The room smelled like sex and sweat. Bodies slapping together echoed around the room along with each other’s moans and whimpers. The continuous action caused the bed to creak, headboard slapping against the wall, but both of you were too lost in the pleasure to care. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Jake spoke, hand letting go of your hair making you fall flat on the pillow. 

Your only response was a cry, before feeling your stomach coil again. Cumming unannounced with continuous, unstable whimpers followed by a moan. Hands shaking as it grips on the sheets so tight that your knuckles are turning red. 

Jake came shortly after, letting out a loud groan as his hold on your waist tightened, fingers pressing on the skin making you whine in pain. His warm seeds started to fill your insides, making you whine loudly as he dumped every last bit of his semen inside you. Thrusting sloppily until his energy is all drained-up. 

Jake pulls out, cock dirtied with both of your cum, he could only stare at your hole as his cum dripped out of it. Unconsciously gathering it using his fingers before shoving it inside your pussy once again, a soft whimper escaping from you before he pumps in and out until he is fully satisfied with it. 

You shifted to lay down on your bed, which Jake followed, brushing the sweaty strands on your forehead. “You did good.” he whispered to you, hands massaging your legs and knees while you closed your eyes to his relaxing touch. 

“I should go,” you said while your eyes remained closed. 

“Wait, clean up first —”

“It’s okay, I can handle it myself,” you insisted. That’s when you sat up on his bed before looking at him. “No aftercares okay? It’s too wholesome for me.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, “it’s not wholesome, it’s decency. I’m not going to let you go home with my cum dripping inside you.”

“What if I want that?” you teased, but Jake only chuckled on your words before scooping you up, startling you that you could only hold on his shoulders. 

The two of you reach their bathroom, Jake makes you sit on the toilet while he grabs a small towel, wetting it before handing it to you. “If you don’t want me to do it, it’s okay. We did it raw, I don’t want to risk you getting sick after sex, you need to pee too. I’ll be outside to get your clothes.” 

You only accepted the towel while he left you there, closing the bathroom door. Staring at the towel, you could only quip a small smile. Jake never failed to surprise you with his gestures, but then again, what else would you expect from the golden boy? He seems like he has everything sorted in his life. 

After you wipe yourself clean, you hear a knock on the door, revealing Jake who offers you your clothes again. You only smile at him, muttering your thanks as you wore your clothes. 

As you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw Jake fully-clothed in the living room, he glanced at you which made you walk towards him. 

“So,” you cleared your throat. “I guess our setup’s okay — you’re okay with it? Because I’m totally okay with having us as fuck buddies.” 

“If you’re okay with it, then I’m okay with it too,” Jake nodded in agreement. “It’s getting late, let me drive you to your home —”

“No, it’s okay Jake, we’re just here to fuck remember?” you reminded, and Jake didn’t rebut. “I’ll just book a car ride home. Don’t worry about me, I’ve been doing this many times.”

Jake could only quip a small smile as he walked you towards the door. 

“At least text me if you got home safe,”  Jake told you, and you let out a small chuckle.

“Alright, if it’ll make you sleep peacefully at night,” you teased. 

“Goodnight y/n, see you in Decelis?” Jake said hesitantly.

You tip-toed to land a kiss on his cheeks, winking at him as you said, “no, see you when we fuck again.”

-

It’s been two months since you and Jake had officially became a fuck buddy.

The set-up wasn't typical. It’s raw (maybe because you let him hit you raw,) but it’s intimate. The two of you also had discussed a lot of kinks to make each other feel good. Everytime you two meet, things spice up in bed and you two always end the night satisfied.

You’ve learned that Jake likes being a dom who complies to your wishes, which makes your set-up better. You consider him as a great fuck buddy especially when soft gestures and aftercares would follow after the rough sex, showing you that he’s not the only one benefitting on this set-up.

Outside the bedsheets, you two talked like you two aren’t each other’s fuck buddies. It was one rule that you had established and Jake complies to it. 

There were no wariness and subtle glances at each other. You’re used to guys texting you after, asking for dates or another hookup, they aren’t even subtle when greeting you inside the campus with eyes filled with lust. But Jake? Jake maintained his boundaries with you. 

He talks to you using his usual tone, acting like he didn’t shove his dick in your mouth many times. But you like it. You finally found someone who’s respectful with your boundaries and complies to whatever set-up you two had agreed. Despite the many times you two had sex, the two of you haven’t crossed the line. Both handled it maturely and were really just there for the sex. 

“Jake, I’ll be going now, y/n, bye-bye!” Jiwon announced, waving at the two of you who reciprocated it. The smile on her face was wide since her boyfriend’s waiting by the doorsteps of the club room. 

“Hey Jake! Don’t study too much, you’ll be out of our reach now,” Heeseung teased before grabbing Jiwon’s bag.

“Get lost you lovebirds,” Jake laughs, before waving goodbye to his friends one last time. You observed how Jake’s eyes lingered on them for a few minutes before continuing his task.

You hummed lightly as you focused on your report. The two of you remained inside the club room, stuck with tons of reports that became mishaps last semester. Incomplete documents and missing reports, Jake couldn’t help but to work overtime due to it along with you. 

“Did you ask your staff regarding this?” Jake asked in a serious tone, a pissed expression written on his face because some cases weren’t even during his term — some were even during his sophomore years, and it only showed up during his term. 

“I already sent a message on our group chat but no one’s responding to me,” you answered, checking your phone again but your message was left on read. “I’ll look more, it must be here somewhere.”

You stood up from your seat, going towards the files on the corner table. Grabbing it one by one to check if there may be some stray documents inside it — not noticing how Jake’s eyes were glued at you the whole time. 

Your hair was messily tied with a claw clip, revealing your nape that’s too tempting for Jake, completely a contrast against your immaculate white blouse that’s too thin, he can see the silhouette of your black bra. Then, his eyes trailed downwards to your skirt, the short navy blue skirt of your department. It’s a few inches above your knees but enough for him to see your gorgeous thighs and legs. 

Jake gulps tightly. Suddenly, his pants are too tight and his body starts to feel hot, making him loosen his tie. Eyes still glued to you, observing you who’s oblivious about his stares.

Jake’s mind started to haze, wondering why the room’s suddenly too hot despite the white noise coming from the air conditioner. But he remained glued to you — who suddenly dropped a document.

And of course, you don’t pick it up by bending your body, revealing your ass at him like a whore. You kneeled on the floor and picked it up with much demurity. Brushing the dust off your skirt as you stand up before going back to your task. 

His knuckles tightly gripped on the edge of the table, eyes watching you like a hawk. An obscene idea formed in his mind. And an idea that he knows isn't allowed and will surely lead him into trouble. That the act of indecency is prohibited by Decelis — but you’re just too tempting.

It’s almost seven in the evening. Usually there were only a few students around the building. A little stunt won’t hurt right? Jake thought before he stood up from his seat, strutting towards you and trapping you with his arms. You were startled, mouth about to open when you felt Jake’s hot breath on your nape — sending chills on your spine. 

“You’re going to be the death of me angel,” he whispered to you, tone dark and lustful that you felt yourself shivering. His body pressed closer to you, feeling his hard-on against your ass. 

“Jake —” you halted a breath when his lips landed on your neck, peppering kisses and soft nibbles making you bend forward. “Not here — someone might walk in.” you tried to push him away but he immediately grabbed your wrists, unable to tug it as he pressed himself so that you could feel his chest against your back. 

“We’re the only one here,” Jake assured. “Can’t wait any longer for you.”

“Jake stop — ah!” The next thing you knew, Jake had you bended on the table, cheeks pressed against the surface with his huge hands stabilizing it. Jake groans softly as he grinds his clothed dick against your skirt, moaning loudly as he rutted on it harshly.

Your heart started beating fast, body shaking and feeling violated with his actions — but at the same time, you can feel yourself heating up. It felt so wrong but your body couldn’t do anything, not even an attempt to struggle your way out was done.

“You want this too do you?” he whispered to you, your eyes widening as he hunches your skirt up to your waist, revealing your black cotton panties underneath. His hands fondling the curve of your butt, making you writhe from his touch.

“Stop —” You shake your head but Jake only pressed your face harsher, tears started to form from your eyes. 

“Be a good girl and behave for me? You don’t want to see their golden girl being a bad girl don’t you?” he taunted, and that thought had your heart racing. 

You two can’t do this. Someone might walk in any minute now. The door’s unlocked and the small window of the door was enough for you two to be seen. That’s when you struggled your way out but Jake grabs your wrist and holds it on your back. 

“We’ll be quick angel, it’ll be nice and you’ll feel good with it,” Jake said, fumbling with his belt with his free hand. He unzips his zipper and releases his cock free from its strain. Angry red and twitching, Jake was eager when he swiftly pulled your panties on the side, slightly rubbing his tip on its entrance which made you move away — but Jake hovered over you.

“Just be quiet for me, going to fuck you real quick you won’t feel any pain —” but it was the complete opposite of what you felt when his huge tip slides in without a warning. You let out a muted cry as Jake sheathes inside you nice and slow yet his huge cock is still too big for you for the sudden penetration. 

It felt so wrong in many ways — but you like it. You like the way that you couldn’t do anything about the situation. You couldn’t do anything but take his cock as he pounds on you senseless. You know that Jake isn’t going to stop unless you say so. Even if you tell him to stop a hundred times, he won’t — unless the safe word comes out of your mouth.

But it never did. You enjoyed the way his dick penetrated inside you, your pussy hugging it making you cry in pain and pleasure. 

“Jake — ah! It hurts —” you cried, feeling his thrust faster and harsher with his protruding tip kissing your deepest parts. 

“It hurts? Don’t fuck with me angel, you love it don’t you? I can feel you getting wet around my dick,” Jake taunted, giving sharp consecutive thrusts leaving you moaning incoherent words.

Your cries filled the whole room, along with the wet slaps of bodies as Jake pounds your pussy with no resentment. His groans lustful and dark, big hands gripping your wrist so tight that you couldn’t do anything but to accept your fate. Heart beating fast that it’s the only thing you can hear against the lewd noises. 

Then you felt it. You’re on the edge of your orgasm. A whimper escapes your lips which signaled Jake. He removes his hold from your wrist before wrapping his hands on your neck, choking you tightly as he presses his body against yours, body sticking together, uniforms getting creased as his hips never stop abusing your holes. The table beneath started to creak, shuffling against the marbled tiles while you crunched against the papers that your hand could reach.

“You’re going to cum now? See how you like it? My angel wanted to get fucked wherever she wants to,” Jake whispered against your ears, reminding you that you’re doing something scandalous inside your campus, and the risk of getting caught is there.

That’s the thrill, there’s nervousness inside you that had your pussy tightening against Jake’s length. Earning a sharp groan from him, as he teasingly chuckled. “With the way your pussy’s sucking me in, I can tell you love this angel.” 

With his expert thrusts, Jake made you cum in no time. A soft sob escaping your lips as the coil in your stomach tightened, knees and legs shaking that you lost your footing — finding balance on Jake’s pressed body against yours. 

Jake follows you shortly after. Filling you with his raw seeds making you whine too loudly that Jake covered your mouth with his hand. He pulls out immediately and starts pumping his dick, spilling a few strands on your ass and skirt, staining your uniform while his cum drips against your inner thighs. 

Jake could feel his cock twitching at the sight. You bent over the table inside the club room, uniform messed and creased with his cum stains. He couldn’t believe that he had the power and confidence to do an act that might risk not only his reputation — but also yours. 

But in the moment of silence that’s when Jake gently holds you, removing you from the table before facing you towards him — his face filled with a worried expression like he didn’t just violate you earlier. His hands go through your wrists as he lightly massages it. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“What the fuck just happened?” you asked, still having a post-orgasm haze.

A hint of nervousness hit Jake, hands on your shoulders as he said, “I’m sorry —”

“No, don’t say sorry Jake, I like it —” but you slapped his chest, eyes glaring at him. “But what the fuck was that!? I didn’t know you’re into public sex!”

“It’s your fault, you’re just too tempting,” he admits, sensing a rush of relief to see that you’re fine with it. “You like it though.”

You two have talked about it a few weeks ago. Jake’s eyes widened when you shared that you’re into non consensual things, you love the way that you don’t have control on some things especially in bed — Jake understood what you meant, and you two established a safe word. 

You like it, you just didn’t expect that you two are going to do it inside the club room. Somehow, you felt nervous at the thought of breaking school rules. 

“Yeah, but what if we got into trouble?” you asked hypothetically, knowing that you two aren’t just students — you two are considered as the role models, it’ll be a huge scandal if they’ve discovered what you two have done.

“But it feels good right? Breaking the rules,” Jake grins, his hands on your waist while his half-hard cock poking your thighs. He seems to be confident about it while the worry look on your face still remains. 

“Jake, I’m serious,” you told him, heart still beating fast. 

“I’m not going to do it if I’ll be risking something,” he assured, hand brushing your hair as he lightly grazes on your cheeks. “Don’t worry pretty, I won’t give you trouble.”

Jake leans closer for a kiss from you, you could only close your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a heated, torrid kiss that had you two immediately gasping for air after a few minutes. 

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you whispered against his lips. “I can’t believe we broke some rules.”

“And I don’t mind breaking more with you,” Jake whispered, and you don’t know what he meant, but as Jake pulled you for another heated kiss, you couldn’t feel anything but the rapid beating of your heart — something indescribable and only would you feel whenever you’re with Jake. 

-

If there’s one thing to describe with Jake is that he is rational.

He abides by every rule and condition given to him. One mistake can be a risk, and Jake, although a risk-taker, still will play safe if he doesn’t gain anything good from the risk. 

Even with your little set-up, Jake respects your conditions and abides by it. That little stunt a few weeks ago wasn’t part of your conditions but you two promised to never do it again inside the campus. Risk is still a risk, and it just sinked into him that his action was too impulsive and risky for you two. 

Fortunately, there weren’t any rumors circling around. Jake was assured that no one had witnessed the scene. Over the past weeks, you two returned to your usual setup — meeting only to have sex, nothing more, nothing less.

Inside his room, Jake was in the middle of his break. His laptop is left open while his notes are spread through the table. He leans against his computer chair as he plays one round of online games, something to relax him in between his study sessions. 

Suddenly, his phone’s ringtone pings, and although he’s in the middle of the game, Jake stops — abandoning his game because that ringtone is specifically for you. Jake looks up to his phone, receiving a notification from you. It wasn’t the usual message that you’d send if you down to fuck. Something about your message had Jake staring at it for a moment.

Hey, can you pick me up here? Just need someone.” your message says. It was straightforward. No flirty remarks or horny subtexts. Not even an emoji and that period — you don’t use periods. 

Jake thought about it for a moment. Wondering if you just sent it to the wrong person. After all, you two only meet to fuck. But in Jake’s mind — in his rational thought, you might be in trouble and the first person you’ve thought of was him. 

So hurriedly, he grabbed his jacket and left his room, going towards the room next to him and knocking a few times before it swung open. 

“Aera, can I borrow your car?”

Jake arrives at the location you sent. A convenience store wherein he can see you from its window. Sitting alone while fiddling with your phone. Jake calls you from his phone and as you look up, your eyes meet.

“Thank you,” you only mumbled as you sat on the passenger seat.

Jake looks at you for a minute. Compared to your usual perfect getup, you were a mess. Your hair is tied in a disheveled low ponytail, eyes red and puffy, obvious that you had cried, you were even holding back your sobs as you only cling on your jacket. Inside it was a tank top and pajama pants. 

You didn’t spare a glance at Jake, your eyes glued at the window of the car. The car was filled with nothing but silence. Jake didn’t want to push you to talk, so he decided to drive away — somewhere that’ll give you a peace of mind. 

The drive brought you two to the highway road, somewhere on the border of the city and its neighboring town. Jake had known this route since Aera brought him and Yunjin to her hometown. Turning right and leaving the highway, the car slowly drove towards a less traveled road. Almost empty and dark if it wasn’t for the few orange streetlights to give light to stray cars. 

Jake stops by the side of the road, somewhere dark and uphill. That’s when you realized you two had stopped. Glancing at your side, only to see that the top view of the city is in front of you. It’s beautiful against the dark night. Hundreds of buildings and establishments flickering like stars, showing you that you’re just a small piece of the huge city. 

“How did you find this?” you asked, almost a whisper.

“Aera, Yunjin, and I took a wrong turn one time,” Jake smiles, remembering the chaos it brought.

It was late in the evening, Aera was panicking while steering the wheel because she took a wrong turn. Yunjin was shouting how this is how a horror movie starts, while Jake was trying his best to find a signal from his phone. They were driving in the dark for so long, screaming and panicking until they passed this road, they eventually stopped. Relief came into their senses because they weren’t trapped in the middle of a haunted road.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled, staring at the view for so long. 

“It has become our secret place ever since,” Jake said, smiling. “When we’re tired, stressed, or just need to escape the city, we go here. You’re the only one I brought here, I don’t know about my roommates if they ever brought someone here.” 

You ignored the way your heart faltered with his words. This feels nice. You think, being away from the noise of the city. And as you clutch your phone, that’s when you remember the reason why you even left your place. 

“My sister and I…we had a fight,” you opened up slowly, making Jake glance at you. “We’re close. Very close, she’s my best friend, my ride or die you can say.”

But a bittersweet smile formed on your lips. “But sometimes she doesn’t understand me.”

“It's just a silly fight about chores and keeping the apartment clean, but —” a choke sob escapes from your lips, trembling as you inhale deeply. “Why does it always have to be me? I know she’s tired from work, but I get tired with school too. She always belittles my tiredness and it’s getting annoying — it’s like I don’t have the right to get tired.”

You let out a deep sigh before aggressively wiping your tears. “She thinks I’m all this smart and good at everything girl and I wish I wasn’t. Sometimes I regret excelling in my studies, all this extracurricular shits and being the golden girl because I can’t fail, I don’t want to disappoint everyone.” 

Jake quietly listens to your rant, realizing how you two are so similar yet different too. 

You both got the title because you two met the standards. He doesn’t care about the title, it wasn’t a crowning glory for him. While you hold onto it like it’s your pride, it’s something that will prove your worth. You may seem so alike but you two see the title so differently. 

“She doesn’t understand that I am not that smart, I study hard, yes, but I am not that intelligent. And everytime I bring that up, she thinks that I’m just lowering my self-esteem, but it’s the truth! I’m not good with everything! Do you know why I’m a communications student? Because I hate math Jake, that’s a cursed subject and it’s my lowest in my records. A fucking 2.5.”

Jake, being an engineering student, merely laughs at your rant. You had a pissed expression written on your face but the sobs never stopped. Jake wonders whether to take you seriously or not. But he nods at your words, trying to understand your sentiments because even he isn’t that great at some fields, like literature or anything with subjective essay writings. He hates those kinds of subjects.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” you apologized immediately, realizing that Jake hasn’t said a word throughout your whole rant. “I know I told you that we shouldn’t do things like this, but I just really need some escape.”

“Don’t you have friends?” he asked, a curious question that seems to be far from your worries. 

“I have but they don’t study at Decelis,” you laughed, finding his question funny yet comforting. “That’s why I love being in the student aid, it feels nice talking to students and helping them. Some juniors look up to me, they don’t know I’m just this imposter who’s not really great at everything.”

“You’re not an imposter y/n,” Jake said. “You’ve worked hard to gain the title. They gave it to you because you deserve it.”

“Do I? Or is it because there weren’t any candidates this year? That’s why they just chose me since I’m the last option.” you rebutted.

“Maybe you’re sister’s right,” Jake said with a serious tone. “Maybe you’re just lowering your self-esteem. Y/n, you were last year’s Selene, you used to be the head radio jock of the radio station, and you never left the department honors’ list every semester — fuck, you’re the vice president of the student aid, everyone loves you! Is that enough proof for you that you deserve the title?”

You don’t know why but your mouth shut down when Jake rambled. You never thought that those words would come out of Jake’s mouth. Shock? Perhaps, asking how Jake knows you this much while you only know him through his touch and golden boy image?

Then it struck you and your setup with him. Like cold water pouring on you as you realized that you might have slightly broke the rule because you went to him and instead of asking to be fucked, you vented out your frustrations on him.

A curse left your lips as you glanced at Jake, eyes pleading and yearning as he only stared at you with his usual neutral expression, like he was waiting for your response.

But you only grabbed Jake by his hoodie and pulled him for a kiss, aggressive and salty as tears still continued to fall from your eyes. Strong hands managed to push you away but your hands remained at his clothes. 

“What the —”

“Forget everything I said Jake, we only meet to fuck remember?”

Jake wasn’t able to rebut when you pulled him for another kiss. At first he doesn’t move, but slowly he responds to your kiss, light and slow, like he’s careful of breaking you. 

And you hated feeling like you’re fragile. You pulled out of the kiss to grab the gear to adjust Jake’s seat — enough to give you space to sit on his lap and give him another heated kiss. 

Jake lets you dominate him as you straddle on his lap. Kissing him hurriedly as your quick hands immediately went between his thighs. Palming his cock, making him groan against your lips. You’ve done this many times and you know where this will lead — you being fucked out of your sadness.

But slowly, Jake stops responding to your kisses. Suddenly, he grabs your face, separating it from you. Seeing him with his angry expression and flushed lips, you could only whine as you grind against his cock, hoping that he’ll give you what you want. 

“Y/n stop —” Jake sternly said. “You’re vulnerable. We shouldn’t do this.”

But you bitterly smiled at him. “Jake, do you know why I do hook-ups? Because it’s my escape, so please, just make me forget everything.” 

“Not with this y/n —”

“Jake please! You might think I’m weak and vulnerable but I know what I am doing.” you said with a serious tone, pleading as you grabbed both his hands, placing it on your waist as your hips continued to move beneath him. 

Jake stared at you for a minute, thinking that he had no choice but to agree. It’s your setup with him. You two are just there for pleasure. If you can fuck him out of his frustration, why can’t he do it with your sadness? It felt unfair to go against your want. 

The two of you moved on the backseat. You lay down as Jake prepared you, scissoring your insides hastily, curling at the spot until you’re wet enough for him. He pulls his pants down enough to release his cock, pumping it lightly, smearing his precum for lubrication, and quickly aligns it on your entrance. Slowly, Jake sheaths inside you, earning a moan from you that he started moving. 

Jake’s thrust was frantic. Fast but wasn’t harsh, like he was trying his best to make you cum. He could only close his eyes shut as he pounds inside you, leaving you in heaving moans. His hands are both on your waist while your hands could only hold onto it for support.

“Faster, please —” You begged but Jake can’t and instead he closes his eyes because he couldn’t bear to see your face. Your eyes red and puffy from crying — yet it haunted him even in his mind. Your conversations replaying in your mind, Jake suddenly halted his action. 

“I’m sorry —” Jake could only groan, taking a sharp exhale. “I just can’t, I know you want this, but this is still wrong.” 

Jake removes his hands from your waist, almost feeling himself disgusted to do the act. He looks down on you whose eyes watered and that even breaks his heart more. 

“Fuck, I just can’t fuck you out of your sadness y/n, you don’t need sex to escape your worries.” he said to you. 

And softly, you said, “I’m okay with this.”

“And I’m not, you can forget your worries without me using you.” Jake stated, his tone became serious but there’s a hint of worry on it.

You only stared at him. Eyes wide as it just sinked into you what happened. Jake didn’t want to have sex with you when it’s the only thing that you two should be doing. But he did it out of respect for you, because he knows that your emotions are all over the place. 

“I’m sorry,” you only cried, making Jake pull you upwards, wrapping you close to him as you cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry —”

Jake hushes you, “it’s not your fault, I’m not mad don’t worry. Just let it out.”

“I just want to be seen.” you confessed, holding tightly on his jacket. “It’s like everything I do is not enough for everyone.” 

“You’ve done everything, you’ve worked hard for the title. Everyone loves you y/n, don’t ever forget that,” Jake softly said. Hands possessively around your waist as his other hand drew circles around your back. 

“It’s not enough —”

“You’ve proven your worth. They gave you the title because they know that you deserve it,” Jake said. “Don’t ever think that you’re worthless — that you’ll find your worth using sex, you’re more than that.”

“I’m sorry for forcing you,” you mumbled, feeling guilty all of the sudden.

“I understand your part, but I just can’t do it with your emotions all over the place,” Jake reassured, and that made you better than before. He knows his boundaries with you, agreeing to each other’s condition but at the same time, he doesn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability. 

“Thank you,” you only breathed. “I — it’s just — I just need to distract myself.”

“That’s why I brought you here,” Jake explained. Hand patting the back of your shoulder. “This could be your breather. Don’t worry about anything.”

“Then, can we stay like this?” you asked suddenly, glancing at him who only remembered that he’s still inside you. 

Jake became quiet for a moment. “Do you want to?"

You only nod, snuggling closer to him, resting on his chest as you can feel the faint beat of his heart. “You’re warm, and it eases me…I don’t know, I know we said we shouldn’t do this but…I think this is the closest thing that we can do as sex.”

Jake only brushes your hair softly, a kiss landing on top of your hair before he said, “if it eases you, of course we can — and don’t worry about it, we can break a few rules just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” you mumbled back. Jake’s willing to break the rules just for you and it reminded his words back at the club room, leaving you questions if those rules also applied to your setup.  

But you remained laying on Jake’s chest, while his arms were around your waist. The two of you laid there in silence. Warm bodies eloping underneath the cold hum of the car’s air conditioner. Jake didn’t try to move, worried that it might stir you. His swelling cock still inside you, pulsing as your warm, gummy walls enveloped it. 

Jake knows that this is against the rules. Cockwarming is something you two agreed to use for foreplay but this one? It’s different, and new, — and rawfully intimate. With you finding comfort to have him inside you, making you at ease, Jake thinks that this one is out of each other’s conditions. 

He let out a sigh as he remembered how you two shouldn’t act like lovers. His mind racing with thoughts. Thinking if he should’ve just fucked you earlier, it wouldn’t lead to this kind of warm between you. 

But his conscience wouldn’t let him. So he lets you sleep in his chest, and as you deeply fall into your slumber with the night becoming deep, Jake decides to slowly remove you from him. You whimper a little but Jake managed to put on your pajamas back. Pulling his sweatpants up before driving back to the city.

Back in the apartment, Yunjin was in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water when she heard the door open. She quickly leaves the kitchen and her eyes went wide to see Jake carrying you behind his back, gripping tightly to your sleeping figure.

And as he makes eye contact with his roommate, he remembers everything Yunjin had advised him. 

“Sorry, I don’t think it’s appropriate to bring her to her home,” Jake excused immediately. 

Yunjin raised an eyebrow, “attachment is what will ruin what you two have, I’m just saying Jake.”

“I know. It’s just that she has nowhere else to go.” 

“It’s fine, but I’m just reminding you.”

Jake only nods. He went straight to his room wherein he places you gently down in his bed. He changes into his sleepwear before laying beside you. Hands instinctively brushing your soft hair like it was on auto-pilot. 

Then he stops — ponder for a moment, wondering if what you two did is still part of your setup.

But he knows that it wasn’t. You two didn’t have sex and he seemingly broke the rule. Everything that you two did was too intimate for a pair of fuck buddies. Attachment — as what Yunjin said, might ruin what you two have. It’s not too late for him to distance himself. 

Jake knows it was the rational thing to do. The moment you two established this setup, no rules were broken until tonight, and it’s because of him.

It was rational for him to fuck you to escape your worries. It’s the agreement that you two agreed on. Regardless of whatever emotions you had because at the end of the day, you two are just there for sex. 

But maybe, Jake wanted to break some rules. Ruin whatever you two have, and just be a mess — far from his golden boy image who always had sort things right. 

And he couldn’t believe that he’s having those thoughts. Jake has always been rational. He thinks ahead before making a choice. But with you, he somehow mixes his emotions and thinks about what might affect you.

You probably put a spell on him, and Jake wanted to curse you for entering his life as a hurricane, ruining his perfectly planned college life. — but he didn’t, instead, he planted a kiss on your forehead as he whispered good night to you. Because he knows deep inside that he wants the chaos too. 

-

By morning, Jake found himself alone in his bed. Blinking, he stares at the empty side for a moment before he sits up to grab his phone, seeing that it was a Thursday. He had no classes that day but maybe you had, that’s why you left early. 

Quickly, he left his room, brushing his bedroom hair that became messier as he walked towards the  kitchen when he heard bright laughter by the dining table. Familiar voices that are talking together. Jake’s feet stopped for a moment, listening to their soft murmurs and chuckles, sleepy mind trying to process everything before entering the area.

There he found you, sitting along Yunjin and Aera, with plates of full breakfast on the table. The three of them stopped, glancing at Jake who seems to be still drowsy in the morning. 

“There he is,” Yunjin laughed. “We were just talking about you.”

Yunjin’s words became mute as Jake’s eyes never left you. You’re still wearing your clothes from last night, sitting beside his roommates, who he cherishes so much, with a wide smile on your face. It wasn’t your typical smile, it was full of laughter and bright. A total contrast from your sobbing expression last night.

A relief rushed in Jake’s chest, seeing how you’ve become comfortable immediately with his roommates. He didn’t even realise that he was staring for too long that Aera had to literally shout his name — snapping out of his thoughts.

“Dude, are you still asleep?” Yunjin asked, laughing as Jake started to move. 

“Sorry, maybe I was.” Jake apologized before sitting on the empty chair. 

Jake remembered how you said you don’t have any friends in Decelis, that’s why seeing that you’re warming up with Yunjin and Aera, he was glad that you somehow found some female friends that you can comfortably talk to. He overhears you three talking about skincares, novels, even their chaotic love life was shared to you who only gasps at the details. 

By ten in the morning, Yunjin and Aera left for Decelis, leaving Jake and you alone inside the dorm, volunteering to clean the dishes on their behalf. 

“Do you have a schedule for today?” Jake asked, after rinsing the last plate. 

“I do, but it’ll be later in the afternoon,” you answered. “You?”

“I’m free for the whole day,” Jake said. “I should drop you off at your place so that you can get ready.”

“Okay, sure, thanks Jake…not only for that, but for last night too.” you softly said, making Jake stop for a moment but he gives you a small smile.

“It’s no worries, you can stay there, I’ll just go take a shower.” Jake excused. “...do you want to join me?”

Your eyes widened, an unusual invitation but you only muttered your “yes’ before Jake reached for your hand, instinctively, you accepted it as he guided you towards the bathroom. 

You wonder where this will lead. You sit on the closed toilet seat as Jake goes back and forth from his room towards the bathroom, lending you a clean towel and some spare clothes of his. 

“I don’t know if you use specific products, you can just steal some from my roommates. I'll just buy them in exchange,” Jake stated. That’s when you noticed the pile of toiletries on a holder beside the shower. Three tiers that contain different products, finding it nice how organized that roommates were. 

It made you smile, “you sure love your roommates, and they love you too.”

“They’re like sisters to me, we’ve been living together for so long that it feels like we’re a family,” Jake shared as he closed the bathroom door before glancing at you. “Let’s go?”

The two of you stripped off from each other’s clothes before going inside the shower. Jake opens the shower, cold water hitting your bare body startling you. You close your eyes as you brush your hair slowly making it wet. 

“Can I?” you heard Jake ask, and you don’t know what he meant, but he grabs the white bottle of shampoo that smelled like sakura flowers. He lathers it in his hands before carefully starting massaging your hair. 

His hands were gentle, soft and careful as his long fingers brushed the tangle strands. Strangely the act was so intimate and gentle, which you two shouldn’t do. It’s not part of your setup. But no one said a word about it, no one reprimanded the other for the act. The two of you stood there as Jake continued massaging your hair. 

Then he massaged a certain spot on your head, which you mindlessly moaned. Eyes wide when you realized your action, but Jake only chuckled as he continued his action before rinsing off the shampoo out of your hair.

“I can do it from here,” you said. Grabbing the bottle of conditioner, before glancing at Jake who immediately lets you be. 

The two of you continued showering together. Quiet in your own world, with the raindrop-like sound of the falling water as a noise. It felt odd for you, never tried showering with a male, the proximity felt uneasy since you two are bare without the act of sex. You become wary of your movement but at the same time, you’re at ease because you’re with Jake.

It’s not obvious that his eyes darted on you at some moments. You’re not that dumb to feel it, but you ignore it, immersing yourself with the cold shower as you rinse off the conditioner from your hair. 

Then there was it. A kiss on your shoulder was the next thing you felt. With the cold water trailing down on you two, Jake’s warm body pressed against yours and slowly wraps his arms around you as he continues to pepper kisses on your shoulder, towards your neck making you tilt it to give him more space. 

“Let me make up with you,” he proposed. “Make you feel good, more good than you think.” 

A soft gasp was only your answer. Closing your eyes Jake tightens his hold on you. His lips were busy with the way he kisses your body nonstop. Showering you with love and warmth as a form of apology from last night. 

You turned around to face him. Eyes locked on his drowsy ones as you brush his wet bangs before trailing your fingers on his cheeks down to his jawline. Memorizing every detail of his face as he remained staring at you. 

You wanted Jake — no, you need him. You can’t have him because it’ll break the rules, but you need his warmth and closeness. The same warmth that gave you comfort last night. Your eyes were pleading as you wrapped your arms around his neck before standing on your toes to kiss him. Jake automatically leaned on, kissing you back with much tenderness — reciprocating the way you kissed him. Warm, and sensual, different from the heated makeouts you two had.

No one said a thing about the way the atmosphere felt different. You two stood there, drowning in the way each lips moved and tasted each other like it’s your last moment on earth. 

You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. But the next thing you knew, Jake had you cornered against the tiles, the shower continued to run cold water yet you can feel the warm of each other’s skin — not lustful, not hungry, something intense and dangerous that both of you know are too risky to bring up. 

You stared at him once again. Hands brushing against his wet hair as the thumping beat of your heart becomes too fast and loud, but the serene silence inside the shower deafens it. 

“I don’t want you to make me feel good,” you whispered to him. “I just need you close to me Jake.”

And Jake complied. He made you melt deeply into his touch. He made you sure that you felt like a goddess and he’s your devotee. His hands found their way to touch every part of your body, tracing and remembering every inch of it, like he’s scared that he’ll forget you. Making sure not a single part is left behind as he takes you against the wall.

The loud echoing moans mixed together with the continuous rain shower. Your whimpers and groans drowning as each other’s lips find its way with much tenderness — the bathroom has become hot yet intimate as you pull him closer, so close like you don’t want to let go of him. The proximity between you two only made it more special and different from the times you two had sex.

You’re taking Jake all the way in, holding him closely to your body, chest pressed to each other as your hands clasps on his wet hair strands as he thrust his huge cock to you until you’re seeing stars. 

Jake follows after, painting your insides white as he captures your lips once again. His cock softens inside you, but he remains glued to you as your arms are wrapped around his neck, feeling safe and warm against his body. 

“You okay?” he asked, breaking the silence. His eyes searched for you, hoping that your puffy red eyes won’t meet him. 

“I’m good,” you answered, feeling the haze coming as you smiled at him. Jake felt relieved to see that your eyes looked fine and normal unlike last night. 

After the act, the two of you finished showering. In tranquil silence, bodies and hair were dried before putting on fresh clothes. With that, Jake picks up the car keys and drives you to your place. 

As you reached the entrance of your apartment, you took off your seatbelt but remained there, glancing at Jake whose eyes were on the road. Now that everything has come down, you two realized that everything you’ve done starting last night had completely ruined your setup. 

Sure you two had sex inside the shower, but it was different. And Jake knows that too. There’s no way to deny the rapid beating of your heart, and as much as you wanted to acknowledge what you’re feeling right now, it still feels so wrong. 

“Thanks Jake,” you started. “Let’s just pretend everything didn’t happen.”

“Alright,” Jake shortly answers, not even batting an eye at you, and that earns a harsh tug on your heart. So quickly, you went out of the car and closed the door, leaving Jake who’s too quiet that he hadn’t realized that your words had crushed his heart. 

-

It’s been a week since you last saw Jake mainly for sex. You still see him in the club room, still in his serious president mode while you do your duties. You two haven’t talked personally and it sort of scared you. Wondering if you had hurt his feelings that day. 

But then again, no feelings should be involved, so why should you feel guilty about a possibility that shouldn’t happen in the first place? You chose to ignore it and decided to maybe take a break on your setup since things have been pretty busy lately, especially when graduation is in a few months. 

You only hum your way towards your department building, listening to your daily playlist — oblivious to the stares you’ve been receiving. You’re used to stares, but you didn’t notice that the stares were different from the usual looks you always receive. 

When you arrived at your classroom that’s when you realized that they suddenly felt cautious around you. Your forehead creased with confusion as it didn’t take you a minute to process everything because a classmate approached you. 

“They’re talking about you,” she said, tone filled with curiosity. “Is it true?”

“What’s true?” you asked, confused with her question. 

“Someone saw you having sex with Jake Sim in the club room.”

You felt your world shattering. Eyes wide as you looked at her as you freezed from where you were standing. 

“Where did you hear that?” you asked, trying to stitch up a lie because not only your image is in danger, but also your standing as a student. 

It’s a grief offense. You know what this may result. Suspension. Community service or maybe being stripped off the honor’s list — which is what you’ve been aiming for. No. This can’t be. 

“It’s circulating around the campus,” she said. “Everyone’s talking about you and Jake.”

Fuck, now it’s a hot topic inside the campus. You know how fast words can spread, and there’s no escape from it. Your lips started to tremble as you tried your best to try and make out a good excuse but another classmate approached you. 

“Hey, you alright? Mr. Choi is looking for you,” she whispered, an assuring pat on your back was all you felt as you nod at her. Nervousness hitting your body as the university’s disciplinary officer is looking for you. 

So it had reached the higher-ups? You could only let out a bitter smile as you turned around and left the classroom. Shame hitting your body that you couldn’t help but to lower your head as you walked your way towards the administration’s building. 

As you entered the office, you saw Jake sitting on the couch. Both looked at each other but no one said a word. Mr. Choi gestured to you to sit on the couch beside Jake, sitting on it while the man sat on his chair behind the table.

The air was cold and the tension was too suffocating. You’re there frozen as Mr. Choi stares at you two. 

“There’s a rumor circulating around the campus that you two were doing some…indecency inside the club room,” Mr. Choi started, both glancing at the two of you. 

Your hand finds its way to your finger, prickling on the skin of your thumb as your heart starts beating way too loud that it’s deafening your surroundings.

This is it. No more Latin honors. Suspension at a prestigious university, and you’re probably not going to graduate this year. Your parents will be disappointed with you, they’ll throw you out and —

“Is there proof?” Jake asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“There isn’t, but it’s spreading outside the campus,” Mr. Choi rested his hands on the table, and somehow that made you relieved. “You two are the image of a good Decelis student, so to hear this rumor — we wanted to take abrupt action.”

“As the image of a good Decelis I think me and ms. l/n knows that we should oblige to the rules of the university, and such indecency shouldn’t be done inside the club, even within the campus,” Jake answered. Blatantly lying through his breath as he gave Mr. Choi a smile —the professional one that he uses to talk to higher ups. That smile that convinces the higher-ups that he’s a good student and it’ll work, they’ll fall for it everytime. 

“Ms. l/n? Do you want to say anything?” you flinched as you looked at the disciplinary officer. 

“Mr. Sim is right Sir. Choi, acts like that are forbidden according to the school rulebook, we aren’t that stupid to ruin the image of Decelis” you simply said, nodding before quipping a small smile.

The man only looked at you for a minute before letting out a sigh. 

“I’m sorry for causing you two troubles,” Mr. Choi apologized. “I believe you two — it’s just, rumors can be true, and we’re just surprised it involves you two who are great students. I know that you two aren’t prone to pre-marital sex and relationships, but this just shocked not only me, but also other concerned staff.”

Jake lightens the atmosphere by chuckling softly. “We understand Mr. Choi. It's no worries on our part and we’re glad to cooperate with you. Whoever started the rumor must be bored with their life.” 

“Are you two together?” Mr. Choi asked all of a sudden, glancing at the two of you. 

“We’re not, we’re simply acquainted,” you answered quickly. Too quick that Mr. Choi noticed how your voice was a bit defensive.

The man merely chuckles. “Alright Ms. l/n, you two may go back to your class.”

As the two of you left the office, Jake’s racing heart slowly slowed down. He only stood there frozen as he would never have thought that in his life that he’ll lie to a higher-up — or even be sent to the disciplinary officer, or just find himself denying a rumor. 

His knuckles turned round, nails digging on the palm as he tried to calm himself down. But his mind was clouded, he tried to compose himself as he started walking mindlessly — not until he felt you grabbing his shoulders.

You had a worried look on your face. Eyes trying to look for his stare but he’s just too numb with everything that just happened. 

“Jake —”

“Can you give me time to think y/n?” he said with a cold tone, making you stop. Jake didn’t notice the way he talked to you. His mind is still hazy as he lets out a deep sigh, frustration written all over him but he’s trying hard to act rational.

“Give you time to think?” you inhaled, disbelief written on your face. “Did you even had time to think when you bended me on that table and fuck me all of the sudden?”

A glare was given to you before Jake scoffs. “Suddenly? You liked it too, didn’t you? I would’ve stopped if you just said the safe word — but you didn’t, you fucking enjoyed it too. So don’t put this blame only on me. We’re in this together.”

You didn’t argue back. Jake’s right. You liked it too. The risk and anxiety of getting caught, there was adrenaline when you two did it. It was consensual, that's why there’s no one to blame between the two of you. The only problem was that the rumors floated, and even if you two had denied it, people would still talk no matter what. 

Both your reputations are on the line. There’s no guarantee that there’s no proof. It might circulate in a few days or maybe weeks. You don’t know when but it’s scaring you. Even right now you’re scared, everything is at risk now. 

“I did enjoy it Jake,” you snarled at him. “And you’re right, we’re in this together, but I hate how you’re suddenly cold to me. Pushing me away like you weren’t so caring and gentle with me a few days ago.”

“You shouldn’t have given meaning to it,” Jake rebuts. “And the last time I recall, it was you who told me that we should just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I am not giving meaning to it. It’s just that you’re so quick to suddenly be cold to me like it was my fault that there's a rumor spreading about us.” 

“Because you’re suddenly confronting me! Do you know how scared I was inside the office? Everything is at risk y/n, my title, image, my academic standing — I’m on the verge of not graduating this year!” Jake vented out. 

“You think you’re the only one who’s at risk? I’m also at risk Jake!”

“Then what do you want me to do? Comfort you? Make you feel better like I did that night? Can you live your life without getting validation from anyone!?”

That’s when Jake stopped — realizing that he crossed the line. The shocked expression written all over your face as your lips started to tremble, and yet, it formed into a thin line, holding yourself back as you raised your chin to face him.

“Is that what you really think of me? But what do I expect from you? You’re still a guy at the end of the day. You’re no different from other guys I’ve slept with.” you took a step forward. Eyes wide filled with frustration and anger. 

“You know what, you’re right Jake,” a bitter smile forming on your lips. “And it’s unfair because I trusted you that night, you assured me that we won’t be in trouble. But look at us now Jake.” 

“Then, you shouldn’t have trusted me,” Jake coldly rebutted. “Maybe I’m just an imposter just like you deep inside.”

“You really are Jake Sim,” you nodded in agreement. “Maybe you aren’t who I think you were, and I can’t believe you gave me enough validation and respect for me to think that I still have enough dignity left. And I’m not saying this because I gave meaning to it, I’m saying this because you still respected me despite our setup — but in the end, you’re going to throw me away like everyone else did, just because we got into trouble, for something both of us have done.” 

Jake didn’t say a word. You only heave out a sigh as tears start forming in your eyes. “And now, you’re looking at me like you’re so disgusted of me, like I’m the one who spread the rumors. But you know what? I don’t want to cause more trouble for you Jake. Let’s just end our setup, since you care more about your image than me.”

“Fine by me,” Jake simply replied. “And in the first place, I shouldn’t care about you, we’re fuck buddies remember?”

That was it. The final nail to the coffin. You can feel your heart crashing into thousands of pieces and you hated that feeling since it’s prohibited in the first place.

“You’re right Jake, and that’s what you’ll think of me, not the golden girl, not your vice president — or maybe a graduating student who’s also involved in the rumors. It’ll be easy for you to throw me away since no emotional attachment should be involved between the two of us.” 

You walked away first. The heavy feeling inside you becomes more heavier as the tears start to form while Jake’s eyes never leave you. He wanted to follow you, grab you arms and maybe, correct every word he said to you. But he remained glued from where he was standing, frustration still clouding in his mind and anxiety still high.

The whole day passed by in a glimpse. The rumors still circulated, Jake ignored it even though there were some strangers approaching him to ask if the rumors were true. He only walks away from them, especially when your name slips out of their mouth. 

You never left his mind. Not even when he returned to his apartment. Dropping his bag as he reaches to sit on the couch. He lets out a deep shaky exhale as his heart is still beating fast due to his anxiety, feeling it exploding any minute.

The door of the apartment opened, revealing his roommates. Shock written all over their faces and Jake immediately knew why. 

“The rumors,” Yunjin breathes. “Were they true?”

Jake didn’t answer Yunjin’s question. He only sat there frozen, creating a staring contest with his roommates.

“Shit it was real?” Yunjin asked, eyes almost popping out of its socket, “you two were so fucking horny that you two banged inside the club room!?”

“Wait, are you serious?” Aera stated. “I didn’t fucking expect that you two, Decelis’ supposed role students would have sex inside the club room.”

And the more they pointed out, the more guilt swelled in Jake’s heart. 

“Mr. Choi called us to his office,” Jake shared, earning a gasp from his roommates. 

“What happened?” Yunjin asked.

“Nothing, they don’t have proof, Mr. Choi thinks that we didn’t do it,” Jake explained, letting out a chuckle of disbelief. “Stupid people, if they’re going to spread a rumor like that at least show some fucking proof.”

“Are you okay?” Aera concernedly asked. 

“I’m fine —” Jake stops for a moment, lips tightly sealed as he glances at his roommate. “I was just shit-scared for a second. I just didn’t expect this would happen.”

“You two should be glad that there were no videos or photos,” Yunjin stated. “Really, what went through your mind to do it in the club room.”

“I don’t know either, it was just the two of us left there, and we’re like the last students there,” Jake replied. “I did it out of impulse.”

“Jake, you never act out of impulse.”

“I know but —” Jake lets out a sigh. “I wonder what their reaction would be to see that their golden students are doing something indecent inside the campus.”

Yunjin raised an eyebrow, “is that a fucking kink or something.”

“No, it’s something I’ve been thinking about, the feeling of disappointing people,” Jake answers. “Thinking of what their reaction would be if they realized that I’m not as “golden” as they think I am.”

“And you involved y/n in that impulsive idea of yours?” Yunjin angrily asked. “Jake, do you even know the cause of your impulsive idea?”

Jake didn’t answer. He suddenly remembered your confrontation earlier. Remembering that it’s not only him or his image that’s at risk. So is yours, and he just happened to make it worse even though it was his idea who brought you two here. Jake curses under his breath sharply, making both Yunjin and Aera looked at him. 

“You know it’s not only about what happened in the club room that’s been talked about right?” Aera added.

That’s when Jake glances at both of them, forehead creasing, “what do you mean?”

“You don’t know?” Aera exhales. “Her sex life has been spreading inside the campus, guys left and right are sharing that they slept with her, they think that she slept with almost every guy in Decelis.”

“You’re fucking kidding me?” Jake angrily asked.

“They’re going around calling her a hypocrite because she’s the golden girl but she sleeps with a lot of guys. They think she doesn’t deserve the title —”

“She got the title because she was intelligent and met its standard, why does it correlate with her sex life?”

“That’s just how people are Jake,” Aera answered. “No matter how intelligent or beautiful you are, the moment a scandal is linked to you — you're done.”

The guilt inside Jake’s heart became heavier. He doesn’t know that but it doesn’t matter, what mattered was that it was his fault why two got involved in a rumor. And instead of assuring her just like what he had promised that night, he pushed you away — even carelessly spat words that didn't mean anything.

“I fucked up,” he whispered. 

Yunjin raised an eyebrow, “what did you do?”

“I fucked up —” Jake deeply lets out a sigh, standing up from his seat, startling his roommates. “Shit, I said some things to her and —”

“Jake, stop,” Yunjin said, approaching Jake. “Breathe for us, calm down."

"How can I? I need to talk to her —"

"Give y/n space first, she might not be ready to talk to you.” Yunjin immediately interjected while she slowly pushes Jake down to sit on the couch once again.

“If it eases you, we can talk to her and ask how she is doing.” Aera suggested, with Yunjin agreeing.

“Please,” Jake breathed. “Tell her I’m sorry and —”

“You’re going to tell her that the next time you two meet,” Yunjin stated. “But for now, take some rest, we know that you’re also affected by what happened.”

Jake merely nods. He could only lower his head as all he could feel was guilt, shame, and anxiety. He didn’t even notice that Yunjin and Aera sat beside him, both arms wrapping around him as they lightly brushed Jake’s back.

“I’m sorry,” Jake only apologized. 

“We’re not mad at you,” Yunjin insisted.

“You’ve been thinking a lot don’t you? Failing?” Aera lightly asked.

“Yeah, in the end, I was still scared of it,” Jake explained. “I just realized that there’s still a hint of pride in being the golden boy.”

His roommates only nod, “but don’t ever do it again Jake. We still need to see you give the valedictorian’s speech.” 

“That’s not my goal you know?”

“Right, and if it was given to you, you’ll end up loving it still,” Aera argued, making the three of them laugh once again.

In the midst of the noise and chaos of today’s event, Jake finds himself in the tranquil comfort of his roommates, thankful that he had them by his side. 

-

It’s been a few days since the rumor aired — and you and Jake had called it off.

A few days and yet your name still lingered inside the campus. New rumors and false information that seem to be an exaggeration. At first, you were scared to go to Decelis, knowing that all eyes will be on you. You attended class and tried to be invisible as much as possible. You skipped your organizations and went straight home immediately. You didn’t want to cause more noise, knowing that your image is ruined and there’s no point of redeeming it. 

But today seems to be different. Jake was surprised to see you inside the club room, doing your duties as the student aid’s vice president. You had a serious look on your face as you talked to your assistant who seemed to be following your orders without any wariness.

Jake stood there for a moment before Jiwon called him out, snapping out of his thoughts as he sat beside Jiwon who immediately started her report. He lets his assistant talk but his eyes never leave yours. Wondering if he had approached you, would you push him away? Or talk to him and act like he’s just an acquaintance to you? Pretend everything about you two doesn’t exist?

It’s been a few days and you and Jake haven’t talked. The last thing he knew was that you don’t want to talk to him anymore. Yunjin told him that you don’t want to cause him trouble and Jake wanted to tell you that it’s not your fault — it’s his. He wanted to explain everything.

But everything’s ruined. His harsh words cut deep through you that not even a simple “sorry” could fix it. It didn’t help that you’re still being thrown off by everyone, so what’s the point of talking to Jake? Will it fix everything? Your only wish was that the remaining weeks would be peaceful because you just can’t wait to get the hell out of Decelis.

Hours passed inside the organization. The atmosphere was peaceful yet for Jake, it was suffocating with you still acting like he’s a ghost. 

“Jiwon, my team’s report is done now, I had it sent to your email,” Jake lifts up his head to see you standing in front of their table. But your eyes weren’t on him — you were talking to Jiwon like she’s the president of the club and the one you’re directly reporting to. 

Jiwon looks at her laptop, clicking a few buttons before glancing at you and giving you a smile, “All clear for me, you’re leaving now?”

“Yeah, I have errands to do,” you told Jiwon casually. “I’ll be going now, bye-bye.”

“Bye! Take care on the way home,” Jiwon smiled, and you gave the girl a smile — a small smile that Jake knows is out of decency. 

As you exit the club room, whispers start to murmur inside. Foul words and remarks about you began to echo around the room, making him tilt his head as he turned around to look at his staff. 

“Do you think that she’ll agree if I ask her to sleep with me?” a male sophomore snickered, and that was Jake’s breaking point. He was about to stand up when Jiwon’s voice got to him first. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Does your mom teach you manners?” Jiwon angrily said to the sophomore, creating tension inside the club room. “Before you say anything about y/n, check the fucking mirror first, you really think she’ll sleep with that face of yours?”

The sophomore apologized immediately, but Jiwon wasn’t having any of it, “she’s still your senior, the vice president of this organization — if you can’t respect her just because of a dismissed rumor, then fucking leave, we don’t want shitty people here.” 

No one dared to reply to Jiwon. Jake could only nod as Jiwon returned to her seat, going back to her work like she didn’t lecture the whole room. 

“It’s always the ugly guys who have the audacity,” Jiwon muttered under her breath, making Jake chuckle softly.

“I just hope y/n is okay,” she added, with a concerned look on her face. “I was surprised that she’s here today — have you talked to her?”

Jake was surprised with Jiwon’s question, “why would you think of that?”

“Because you’re the president!? And I know that the rumors about you two were quickly dismissed but you should’ve told her to lay low for a while, people still talk.”

Jake doesn’t know what to say to Jiwon. How can he tell her the whole context of the mess? It’s not that Jiwon will judge him, but it’s hard to explain everything to his friend.

So he only gave him a small smile before nodding, “I’ll tell her tomorrow, you seem to be worried about her.”

“Of course! Why would I? She’s kind and sweet, and what she does outside the campus doesn’t reflect her image inside,” Jiwon answers, and Jake wishes that you could’ve heard those words. 

-

But Jake wasn’t able to get the chance to talk to you the following day because a photo of you and him circulated around the campus. 

You heard it from a classmate of yours. Showing the photo which you only stared at for a minute. It was taken from outside. It was a bit blurry, but it’s the two of you kissing, clothes still intact, thankfully. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, fully covered by Jake who was leaning towards you.

Your heart dropped on your stomach. You wanted to cry or maybe throw your classmates’ phone out of rage. But you returned it to her, giving her a bitter smile before putting on your earphones — deafening your surroundings, knowing that they’ll be talking behind your back. 

It had you wondering what’s the intention of the owner of the photo? Does it satisfy them to ruin one’s image? Why now? When they could’ve just posted it along with the rumor a few weeks ago. It’s like step by step, they wanted to ruin you two slowly. You don’t even know if their target is you or Jake or maybe both of you.

But as you sat there, you know it’s no use confronting that person. You’re just preparing for Mr. Choi to call you and give you a suspension for not only lying to him — but also for breaking school rules. 

But it never happened. The whole morning passed by with ease. Classes acted like normal, you listened to your teacher’s lectures like there’s not a photo of you circulating around. 

During lunch time, you decided to just skip the rest of the day and go back to your home and maybe, cry all of it because even though you’ve become numb from the past few days of being shamed by everyone, this one is just the cherry on top of everything that happened. 

You know that the stare will be there the moment you exit your department building. You didn’t care about them anymore, they’ve been talking about you a few days ago, this one isn’t new to you at all. So you walked with your head high, not caring if they're talking about you. You know they don’t see you as the golden girl anymore and honestly, you don’t care about them either.

“Y/n!” you stopped your tracks when you felt someone grabbing your shoulder. Turning around to see Yunjin and Aera along with her boyfriend, Jay. 

“Hey,” Yunjin was first to hug you, followed by Aera which confused you but you could only melt to their hug, grateful for the sudden comfort. 

“Are you okay? You know what, I shouldn’t have said that,” Yunjin quickly said as she broke from the hug. 

“I’m fine, I’m just — I don’t care about what people say anymore, they don’t even know the whole story,” you explained. “How’s Jake?”

Both of them only stared at each other, and it made you raise an eyebrow.

“Is he okay?”

“Jake’s going to owe up everything,” Yunjin confessed. “He’s talking to Mr. Choi at the moment.”

You felt your ears deafening at the sudden revelation. “Wait — why!? Why would he do that? He’ll be suspended.”

“Why do you think so y/n?” Aera smiles at you, and for a moment, you were confused by it. Then it just sinked into your mind. 

“It’s not because of me isn’t it?” you slowly asked.

His roommates only exchanged a fair share of glances. — that’s when you knew. Your feet quickly turned around to run towards the office of the student affairs, while Yunjin and Aera watched as you disappeared in their sight. A small smile tugging both on their lips.

You were catching your breath as you reached the second floor. Turning left towards the long hallway where Mr. Choi’s office was. Sprinting towards there, your feet halted when the door swung open, revealing Jake who seemed to be at ease. 

The two of you stood there, staring at each other. For a minute, no one said a word but Jake looked at you and then smiled. 

“What did you do?” you asked, catching your breath.

“Everything’s settled now,” Jake simply said. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I’m not worried about myself, people are already calling me names Jake, I’m worried about you,” you pointed out. “What about your reputation? Your candidacy for valedictorian?”

“And let you take all the blame again? It’s fair that I’ll be punished too.”

“I don’t need you to that for me Jake, I don’t want to cause you trouble anymore —”

“It’s my fault in the first place why we’re here,” Jake owns up. “It’s right that I receive disciplinary action from it.”

“No —”

“It’s okay, it’s fair,” he assured. “You’re not going to be alone in this one. I won’t let you.”

At that moment, Jake slowly walked towards you who stood there frozen. You don’t know why but the moment Jake’s a step closer to you, you could only wrap your arms around him, face hiding against his chest as he embraces you warmly.

Even after everything that happened between the two of you, you feel like it felt right to be in Jake’s touch. You missed him so damn much. 

“I’m sorry.” you could only say.

“Don’t say that, I should be the one apologizing,” Jake insisted but that only made you hide in his touch. 

“What will happen to you?”

“They only gave me warning,” Jake heaves out a breath. “They’re looking for the photo leaker, and they might receive a bigger punishment for taking photos without consent and ruining Decelis’ image — Mr. Choi thinks that we were just kissing inside the club room.”

Then you realized, the angle of the photo made it look like you two aren’t doing something indecent, just a light makeout. You don’t know if you’ll be relieved hearing those words. 

“You okay?’ he asked you, hands on your back as he lightly rubs it. 

“Yeah,” you only nod.

There should be a relief in you. Everything’s all settled now. Jake only received a fair warning. He wasn’t suspended and owned up to everything. He took the blame but you still feel anxious, you couldn’t help but worry that there’s more to come. 

“Are you sure?” Jake asked once again.

“Of course,” you nodded once again. 

“Do you want to get away from here?” he asked, that’s when you look at him. 

“Can we?”

And the only thing Jake did was grab your hand, squeezing it tightly before giving you an assuring smile. 

-

You two found yourself at the same spot. It felt different going there during the afternoon. But the gentle breeze of spring dissolves completely the afternoon sun. Jake had parked the car on the side of the road. Noise of cicadas and rustling leaves gave nothing but quiet comfort. 

Sitting by the hood of the car, the two of you munched on the burgers that you two bought through a drive-thru. Eating in silence as no one has the courage to bring up the elephant in the room. 

You only stared at a huge city that almost became a solace for you for the past few years that you’ve been studying in Decelis. It felt vaguely weird to stare at it during the day. But you come to realise that in a few months, you’ll be deciding whether to go back to your hometown and work there or maybe stay in the city, opening another opportunity for you. 

“Looking at the city,” you mumbled quietly. “I realized that we’re just small — no, just a tiny part of a huge place. That there’s a thousand strangers there who don’t know us.” 

Then, it crossed your mind all the things that happened to you for the past few days. Making you bitterly laugh as you take a sip on your drink. 

“In the end, we’ll graduate in Decelis and everything that happened will just be a memory for everyone.” you added, but there’s a deep sigh escaping on your lips. “I know that but right now, it’s so shitty. It’s like suddenly, my dignity is gone — I only slept with eight guys throughout college! And three of them don't even study in Decelis!” 

Jake didn’t say a word. He only gazed at you as you munched on your burger angrily, smiling softly at your cute expression. 

“But you know what? I’m just convincing myself that in the end, these people don’t know me at all, and they can talk shit about me all they want, spread lies and false information, I don’t care about it anymore. At least I don’t badmouth other people the moment gossip spreads inside the campus.” 

Jake kept quiet. Watching you take a sip on your drink before taking a bite on your fries. Jake’s stare remained at you for a moment. Hearing nothing but the faint beating of his heart against the breeze of the night, Jake knew that you have a lot of resentment in your heart. And he could feel nothing but guilt with it.

Even if he had owed up the rumors and only received a warning, he knows that it wasn’t enough for you to forgive him. Jake looks at his half-bitten burger before glancing back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake started. “I’m sorry for causing harm to you, I shouldn’t have done it. And I’m sorry for lashing it out to you because the truth is, I was scared too.”

You remained glued to the view, but hearing that Jake was scared? That surprised you. It shocked you to hear that Jake, the person who you always considered as stoic and rational, was scared of something. 

“I thought, I don’t care about my title. That corny piece of title that only brings weight to my shoulders.” Jake spat, frustrated by the thought. “It’s not my fault that I’m like this, and it had me wondering, what would happen if they placed the title to the wrong person? Someone who isn’t who they think he is?”

Then, he lets out a bitter laugh. “What we did inside the club room was an impulsive idea. When we got caught, I was scared. I was afraid of disappointing people, and I realized I’m not going to let everything I’ve done become a waste just because of an impulsive idea.”

“Then I heard from Yunjin and Aera, that you took more damage than me. They were right, the whole day there weren’t any disgusting remarks about me — but you, you’re hearing worse and I pushed you away. I hurt you, I said words out of anger and told you I didn't care about you.”

“And I fucked up, I’m sorry I fucked up. You don’t have to accept my apology y/n but I’m sorry, I care for you — I don’t see you as my fuck buddy, you’re more than that and you know that. I just want to let you know that I didn’t mean every word that I’ve said back then.” 

“Is that why you confessed to Mr. Choi? Because you feel guilty of what happened? Did it ease your conscience when you did it?” you argued. 

“I did it because it’s the right thing to do,” Jake argued. “It’s my fault we’re here and I’m going to owe up to it, I didn’t do it just to clear my conscience.” 

You only laugh at his words, “wow, that’s so rational of you. You really are the golden boy, you even managed to save your image. Lucky you.”

Then, quietly you glanced at him. "You owning up to the rumors doesn’t change anything Jake. I’ll still be called a slut but this time with evidence, so I don’t know why you went through all that trouble when the damage has been done.”

“I don’t want you to get involved today, that’s why I told Mr. Choi, it was my idea,” Jake explained. “I don’t want your latin honors to be stripped away from you.”

“And in exchange, you let go of yours, Jake I don’t need you to do that,” you protested. 

“I know you don’t need to, but I want to,” Jake insisted. “Because you deserve it, you deserve to go up on stage and receive a medal. You’re the golden girl and you’re going to prove those who wronged you that you deserve that title.” 

You didn’t say a word, you only stared at Jake who only gave you a small smile. Cold wind passed by the two of you as you remained quiet because of Jake’s words. With everything that happened, you have completely lost the title. You don’t see yourself worthy of it and so does everyone.

“You really think so?” you asked. 

“You deserve it more than me,” Jake genuinely said. 

You wanted to cry, but all of your tears have dried up. So you gave him a bitter smile which made Jake stretch out his arms, and a small smile which you knew, so you scooted over him who only wrapped his arms around you. That’s when you felt at ease once again. Heart tired yet comforted when Jake’s warmth touches your skin.

“You’re more than just the golden girl y/n, you’re everything, remember that,” Jake breathes once again. 

“It’s hard to think of it when everyone doesn’t see you in that way anymore,” you let out a deep sigh.

“They’re just jealous of you,” Jake lightly teased, and that made you laugh.

“That’s right, they’re just probably jealous of me,” you lightly smiled. “In the end, I still have the title, my GPA's still higher than them. — and I’m just going to assume that those who talked shit most about me are virgins and guys with small dicks.”

That’s when Jake let out a laugh, making you laugh as you nuzzled more in his shoulders. 

“That’s a crazy thing to say.” 

“We’ll never know if it’s true or not,” you smiled. “Those guys who bragged sleeping with me, should be lucky because if I’m so petty, I would’ve shared a list and rated their dick and size performance.”

Jake hums, “I wonder what’s my rate in there.”

“Ten out of ten, you weren’t called the golden boy for nothing,” you sarcastically replied. 

Both of you burst into a fit of laughter. You could only feel Jake’s cheeks pressing against your head as silence hovered the two of you. A silent truce between the two of you was made. Both knew that there’s no point of arguing anymore since people will talk shit no matter what. 

“Do you think, if we don’t have our title, people wouldn’t bat an eye on what we did?” you asked out of blue.

Jake only hums, his hand patting your shoulders in soft beats. “People still talk.”

For a moment, you were quiet, then a frown formed on your lips. “A lot of students did it at the lover’s garden, but I don’t hear them dropping names.”

“Maybe it really has something to do with our reputation.” Jake concluded.

“I wonder what would happen if we told them the actual truth,” you blurted out. 

“Let’s not go there, I still want to graduate.”

And a chuckle escapes your lips. “So do I.”

“Maybe in five years or more, during homecomings. That’ll cause a stir.” Jake laughs, making you chuckle. “In the end, it’ll be just a small memory of our college life — but hey, at least we had a core memory.”

You two fall under silence once again. Enjoying the peaceful tranquility as slowly, the sun deepened and the city slowly started to fall to its golden hour. You could never be not in awe with the view, and you were glad that Jake brought you here. An escape from everything, somewhere in the middle of a small road, you suddenly remember the first time he brought you there.

“You know, this isn’t the right timing, but do you remember that time you brought me here the first time?” That's when you separated from his touch, looking at him with an innocent look.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I was really down for sex that time,” you laughed. “I was curious what car sex would be like.”

For a minute, you two were quiet before Jake could only let out a soft chuckle as he said “Get inside, backseat.”

Both of you jumped out of the hood of the car. Heart racing as you open the backseat, watching Jake open the car’s engine first, turning on the air conditioner before shuffling towards the backseat. 

Eager, you two immediately crash each other’s lips onto another. Teeth clashing, sloppy, and breath-stealing as Jake’s hand’s grab your waist and push you to lay down, head resting on the car's window as he continues to makeout with you. 

Hastily, you fumbled the belt of his slacks, pulling it down along with his boxers so that his cock sprang free from its strain. A soft gasp escaped his lips as you started stroking it fast and tight. You missed this. You missed his touch and the way he pounds inside you, you can already feel your core getting wet by the thought that you’ll be fucked by Jake again.

The two continued making out inside the car. Tasting each other's lips like you two were starved for years, it was rush and eager. The temperature started to rise, fogging the window as you two were too lost to care if any car might pass by and witness the obscenity inside the car. 

“To think we’re still wearing our school uniforms,” Jake mumbled between your kisses. His hands finding its way on your blouse, unbuttoning it hastily to reveal your pink bra which hugs your breast perfectly. 

“I guess this is the real scandal for us,” you teased before lightly grazing the tip of his cock on your clothed pussy. Soft moans escaped on each other’s lips as Jake couldn’t help but to rut against your cunt.

“I can’t wait anymore —”

“Me too, just fuck me Jake.”

Quick and hasty, Jake helped you slide down your panties until it hangs on your left ankle. One leg lifted on his shoulder while the other one was sprawled on the floor. 

It was cramped and small but your mind was now in haze. Jake was eager as he pushed his shaft inside you, your cunt pulsing on its bulbous head, as you forget how big his dick was, making you deeply gasp. You moaned loudly when Jake began thrusting inside you that the sudden pleasure left you choking on your breath. Mouth wide as you gasp for air — until Jake instinctively wrapped his hands around your neck, making you roll your eyes in pleasure. 

The car started creaking against the ground. Windows fogging up as your hand clasped on the windows while Jake continued pounding inside you. Bodies were starting to sweat, wetting and creasing your uniforms but the ministry didn’t stop. You two wanted to make up for the lost time, the pleasure becoming too intense that only cursed words and breathy sounds escape on each other’s lips. 

“Shit —” Jake cursed as he raises your hips and slams his cock at a new angle, earning a whimpering moan from you. “So good, all mine — want to make you mine.”

You gasp for air as those words haze your mind. “Jake —” 

“You don’t know how crazy you drive me y/n, shit —” Jake started blubbering words. Messy, word vomits as he continues pounding inside you. 

“You can’t just say that — ugh, hngh! while railing me —” you grabbed his tie, tugging him closer until he’s an inch close to your face. “It's not fair!”

Jake realized the words escaped his lips, he knew it was wrong and whatever you two have is still blurry. “Then forget it —” 

“No, fuck you! Is this real?” you snarled at him. “Jake, tell me, is this real?”

“I’m serious,” Jake answered immediately, and your eyes only widened. 

“Jake —”

“I’m fucking serious —” he presses his forehead on yours, thrusts turning into slow, sensual grinding, something that made you even fell his hard cock penetrate your walls full. “At some point, we’ve broked our setup the moment you we were together but didn’t fuck.”

“But pretended like we’re nothing —”

“And it kills me every damn time. You don’t know how it pains me to ignore you, to not cross boundaries but fuck — I want us to be something else aside from this set-up.”

You were stunned. You never thought that Jake would confess. You know that there were a lot of times were the lines were blurred, there were moments that were too intimate to be considered as something fuck buddies would do.

And you like every bit of it. You know that emotional attachment is prohibited, it’ll ruin your professional, monogamous set-up that’s only for the sake of pleasuring each other. 

But you’re ruined for Jake enough to not care about the rules. After everything that happened between the two of you, the least you could have was having him by your side, and it seems like the gods are in your favor because Jake is also in the same whirlwind as you are. 

“I like you too Jake,” you confessed to him. “The truth is I didn’t want to talk to you because I was scared of my feelings. I like you enough that I don’t want to cause you trouble anymore.”

“Fuck — and that had me spiraling, you’re ruining me you know?” and with that, Jake plants a kiss on your lips.

“What happened to being rational?”

“All gone the moment you let me fuck you,” a sharp thrust stabs your pussy, earning a moan from you as you look at Jake who only smiled at you. “All I need is your words baby, and you’ll be mine.”

“Take me Jake,” you told him. “Want to be yours.”

Jake moves his hips once again. Grabbing your other legs as he folds it onto your chest, slipping out his cock and slamming it with one sharp thrust, earning a loud moan from you. 

He continued pounding on you harshly. The new angle hitting your sensitive spot which made you cry further in pleasure. Jake grunts as he stabs your tight, warm walls with his huge length nonstop. Pride swelling inside him as your juices started to coat his dick. 

“Fuck!” you mewled, stretching out the word as you felt your stomach knotting in a pit.

“You’re gonna cum now? Cream my cock baby, show me who owns this pussy,” Jake ordered as he continued thrusting inside you. 

The car creaked more aggressively as you reached your orgasm, crying loudly as Jake followed after. Groaning loudly as warm cum painted your walls white. He brings down your legs after a few seconds, lightly massaging your thighs as he hovers over you and peppered your face with kisses.

“You did good, baby,” Jake whispered to you, kissing you on the lips softly while you only whined as he pulled out from your pussy.

“We’re not doing this ever again,” you told him, and that made him stop, surprised by your words. “It’s too cramped! I’d rather be in bed, at least we’re comfy there.”

It took a minute for Jake to sink what you said before laughing and kissing your temples. “Ever thought of trying it in the kitchen? Maybe you’ll let me eat you —”

“Not going to happen,” you gritted your teeth. “God, were still acting like we’re fuck buddies.”

“At least we can finally act as lovers now,” Jake teasingly said before hovering you once again for a deep kiss. Full of love and yearning for you. 

-

Epilogue.

The huge convention hall was filled with thousands of graduating students. Wearing their best formal dresses and suits, the atmosphere was lively and bolstering with noise and excitement. 

It was the annual graduation night. The opening for the university’s graduation season. Every graduating student was invited to celebrate the end of their college life — and the beginning of another chapter in their life. It was their last night to socialize and meet new people. 

You entered the hall clad in a long maroon dress that gives your body a silhouette along with a pearl set from your mother. But that wasn’t the reason all heads turned to you.

Next to you was Jake, heavenly to look at with his black button-up, sleeves folded revealing his strong arms, right hand holding your left hand. He stood there proud with his clean brush-up hair, suiting his sharp godlike face along with his black-rimmed glasses. 

After you two decided to be together, your relationship remained a secret since you two don’t want to add fuel to the fire even though you two don’t care about each other’s damaged reputation anymore. You two remained professional inside the campus, no glances or subtle touches, which made everyone assume that the photo is just a hoax since you and Jake kept quiet about it. 

The rumors disappeared after a few weeks. You heard that the photo owner got suspended due to some violations. Whatever Jake negotiated with Mr. Choi worked in your favor. People still talk, but you’ve learned to prioritize your peace and just let people wander. 

Yet, you were still a petty girl inside. So you two dropped the bomb during the graduation night by attending it with Jake, close like lovers and it made everyone wonder — what’s the deal between the two of you? Were you two together because you two hold the same title? Or were the rumors actually true?

As their eyes remained at you two, you could only smile as you focused on the photographer’s words, telling you to pose like lovers which only made you smirk before resting your head on Jake who instinctively placed his hands on your waist while the two of you posed for the camera. Jake heed no attention to the strangers around, all he thinks is that tonight is a night of celebration with you and his close friends. 

All eyes remained at you two as you walked towards your reserved table where Jake’s close friends and roommates were seated, watching the scene unfold earlier. 

“You guys know how to make an entrance,” Jay teased, arms resting on Aera’s chair who’s smiling ear to ear. “You guys beat Heeseung and Jiwon in stealing tonight’s attention.”

“A few months ago, you two got caught into some scandal, now you decided to attend the night together? You guys are just stirring the rumor again,” Heeseung obliviously laughed, the whole table was laughing but Jake and you only glanced at his roommates who were holding back their laugh.

“Let people wander,” you only smiled. 

While waiting for the program to start, you only socialized within the table. Listening to their stories and jokes, you find yourself laughing at the embarrassing things they share, especially when it involves your boyfriend who only looks away with a small smile on his face. His hands rested lightly on your thigh while both your hands circled around it. Fidgeting with the rings on it, giving you a sense of comfort on it.

“Just in time, you two are here!” the two of you turned around to see Yunah, the new editor-in-chief of Decelis Publications, approaching your table. “We’re interviewing graduating students for our post, and of course, we couldn’t miss interviewing you two.”

Jake glanced at you who only smiled at the girl. “Sure, we don’t mind.”

You two follow Yunah at a corner where it wasn’t that crowded, she explains how it’ll be done, giving you two one question: what’s the one thing that you’ll miss in Decelis?

“The student aid,” Jake answered without any hesitation. “They helped me during my freshman year, and I’ve been with them from the start. I hope that the new set of officers will continue the act of helping each other and becoming a support system to our students.”

Yunah only smiled at them, “as expected from the president of the organization, how about you ms. y/n?”

“Same with me! I’ll miss helping students and its communal unity, the organization is a safe space and I hope it continues to do so, especially to incoming freshmen.” you explained. 

“That’s such a wonderful answer from both of you. It’s no wonder that the students this year were at ease. Both of you were in charge of the organization,” Yunah shared, and that thought eases your heart. 

“It’s not just us, but it’s the whole organization who made an effort,” Jake rebutted, and you only nodded in agreement.

Yunah only smiled as she jots down the answer. “Okay, I have a bonus question just only for the two of you. Since you two currently hold the title of the ‘golden boy’ and ‘golden girl,’ who are you eyeing to pass the title to?”

But both you and Jake only looked at each other, a meaningful smile before glancing back at Yunah who’s waiting for your answer. 

“We don’t know honestly,” you laughed. “You have to earn it, and it’s not something we can pass to someone. But to whoever will be the next after us, I hope they wear it with confidence.”

“And, don’t let it be a weight that you’ll have to carry. They gave it to you because they know you deserve it, just like what y/n said, wear it with confidence.” Jake added.

“Woah, no wonder the title was given to the two of you,” Yunah said. “Thank you for the interview, but between you two and me, are you two together?” “We’ll keep that one a secret.” you winked.  

The program started a few minutes later. A few messages from the directors and administrators of the university, inducing a warm applause from the students. It was followed by the formal proclamation of the awards and student leaders while food was served to every table. 

One by one, the people at your table would go up and receive their honors. You could only smile as they receive their achievements with a smile. Soon, the table was filled with certificates and glass trophies.

“And for this year’s batch valedictorian,” the director announced. You only looked at Jake as your hands found his, fingers intertwining as a stranger’s name was called by the director. A pity smile was all you can give but Jake squeezes your hands. 

“It’s okay,” Jake smiled, knowing that it wasn’t his goal. “I’m still the valedictorian of the engineering department.”

You only laughed at his comment, watching him tug your clasped hands near his heart. “Plus, you're mine now, and I think that's a bigger win than being the batch’s valedictorian.”

A smile and blush on your face was all he could see before you looked away. “I hate you and your flowery words Jake Sim.”

“I love you too,” he whispered to your ears, making you smile before stealing a kiss on his cheeks, taking it as an opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder. Feeling at ease as you listen to the student’s speech.

“Hey, do you wanna know when I knew that I had fallen for you?” Jake asked out of blue. 

You hummed for a second, curiosity killing you. “Shoot.”

“It was when I saw you talking to Yunjin and Aera by the dining table,” Jake answered. “I remembered how you said your friends aren’t around, and seeing you laughing with them, I don’t know, it feels like you fit with them.”

You felt your heart swelling with joy as you looked up at Jake who only had his boyish smile. 

“Jake, that was so sweet — I can’t believe you would think of that,” you smiled, eyes gleaming bright as your free hand found its way to Jake’s nape, brushing his hair delicately. “Wanna know mine?”

“Go on,” he grins. 

“When we had sex at the club room,” you straightforwardly said, watching Jake’s eyes widen and smile turning into a thin line. 

“Kidding! It was when you didn’t want to have sex with me because I was vulnerable,” you explained, the teasing smile on your face shifted into a genuine one. “It made me realise that there are guys who still respect me even if I'm okay with it.” 

Jake could only scoff in disbelief before pinching your cheeks, making you whine as he grins teasingly. “So somewhere in our setup we really broke the rules.”

“And I’m glad we did,” you stated, tapping the end of his nose. “And I’m kinda glad you confessed first because I’ll most likely bring my feelings for you to my grave.”

“It was a swirl of the moment!” Jake rebutted, and it only made you laugh. “What happened to ‘it’s proven that college couples break up after graduation?’” you reminded.

And before he could answer, Jake steals a short kiss on your lips, surprising you as the smirk on his lips formed. “We’ll prove it wrong then.”

[ambi01]

Magnets ✶ lhs.

Either way, you have me at my wit's end.

Summary: Lee Heeseung, according to your sort of college crushes, falls under the category of the unreachable. One being he's a bandmate and friend of your younger brother, (which automatically means he's off-limits), and two, he's popular, intelligent, and every girl's dream guy, which still validates your sort even if we cross out the first reason. And yet, a small part of you wondered, if Lee Heeseung can be just at an arm's length. 

And somewhere, in the middle of your junior year, a mystic force somehow pulled you and Heeseung together. A push and pull of feelings that had you wondering if he’s really unreachable. (or not, you just don’t want to assume really.)

✰ Song Inspiration: Magnets by Niki, Sway covered by Beabadoobee (original by Bic Runga), Take A Chance With Me by Niki

✰ Word Count: 25.6k

✰ Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, best friend’s older sister, kinda realization of feelings, jealousy, drunken confessions ig, a bit of angst, smut! Yang Jungwon as reader’s younger brother, band au! College settings, classmates! Bar parties, mentions of alcohol. Heeseung is such a natural flirt (and is an epitome of mixed signals.) He is also in a band, mentions Enhypen members, mentions of kpop idols, Yunah and Karina as your best friends. Jungwon calls reader “noona.” He’s also so protective that he can be an asshole sometimes. Reader is kinda delusional but in denial but I get her. Heeseung has a high-alcohol tolerance for the sake of the plot. Switch of POV at some point of the story. 

✰ CW: Smut! Plot with little porn, p in v sex, unprotected sex lmao (pls don’t) drunk sex, creampie, oral (f and m receiving), aggressive making out, mentions of blood, fingering, squirting, light spanking, multiple orgasms, names (pretty, baby), grinding, cowgirl, aftercare!!! Multiple smut scenes because I’m practicing for my next fic but still shitty. Hope you enjoy though.

✰ Asul’s note: It’s Heeseung’s story this time! Third installment of Arcanum series. I also kinda made Enha members same-aged in this series, (hyung line are juniors while maknae line are sophomores, and idk why I am telling y’all this now lmao.) This one is lighter compared to my other stories hehe. Some talks about “The Virgin Suicides” because I love that novel sm and I’m going to nerd the hell out of it. 

And kinda spoiler? But the self-composed song of Arcanum is actually this song! (give love to the og singer pls) I just remembered Heeseung covered this during Fate Concert in New Clark City (and he did posted a short cover of it WTF.) The song and lyrics matched the story that’s why I included it here. Anyways, enjoy this not proofread, tooth-rotting story.

You can check the other member's stories here: Jay | Sunghoon

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @chuuyaobsessed @k1ttyjwon @bussolares @rosepetals09 @m1kkso @dearestdreamies @dreamiestay @cloud-lyy @iamliacamila @heeseungsgf26 @dulcetnostalgia

-

According to your list, you have two types of crushes. 

The first ones are the reachables. Meaning, your crushes that you can potentially date or maybe pull if you’re lucky.

The first one being Jake Sim, who’s an orgmate of yours. You two only started as a staff for the Student Aid Organization during your first years in college, assisting students with their grievances. It wasn’t until Jake became the vice president of the said organization while you became his executive assistant, wherein you two became much closer. Jake was the ideal boyfriend. He was smart, good-looking, and fun to be with. You might have a chance with him if he reciprocates your small crush on him. 

The other one is Lee Chanyoung, a sophomore who is the rookie of Decelis University’s swimming team. He’s tall, handsome, but was a shy kid that you interviewed back when you were part of Decelis Publications. You remembered flustering him with your compliments, making the poor kid blush hard. You don’t mind dating him if only your interaction with him becomes frequent, but for now, he’s just an eye candy crush. 

Then, there are the unreachable ones. Your crushes who will forever remain in the crush-zone. Those crushes of yours that you had 0.0001% chance to date with, and so what? It’s just a crush, a small admiration to them.

Like Kang Taehyun. The most popular student in your department. He just happens to be the president of the Education Department’s student council. He holds a good reputation among his peers. Friendly and has a good aura around him. You had a few interactions with him and the rumors about his kindness exceeded you. Despite that, he remains (and will remain) unreachable due to the fact that he has a girlfriend. — you don’t want to ruin a relationship of course. 

Then, there’s Lee Heeseung. The one that you considered as the most unreachable crush of yours. 

There’s not enough words to describe Lee Heeseung, but he was everything. That man is everyone’s dream guy. Considering that he’s been a classmate of yours since freshman year, it’s undeniable that he’s an intelligent student. Considered as one of your department’s top students. 

Aside from that, he’s like Decelis University’s Troy Bolton. Heeseung lives a double life of being part of your department’s basketball team and playing in a band. While Decelis’ official basketball team tries hard to recruit him, Heeseung refuses to join because he knows that he’ll have to dedicate every minute of his time for it. Meaning it has to be his top priority and nothing else.

And everyone knows why. Heeseung can’t leave his band. How can he when he’s the one who formed the band and is basically the center of it? Lee Heeseung just happens to be the vocalist and guitarist of the band Arcanum, a university band that he formed along with some other students, that includes your younger brother — which leads you to another reason why he’s unreachable.

Your younger brother, Yang Jungwon was Arcanum’s drummer. His passion in music had convinced him to join the band, befriending his seniors and forming a bond with them through making music. 

That’s when you found yourself as the older sister who comes home to her house that served as a band practice for Arcanum. Perks of living in a house just a few blocks near the university.

Heeseung being Jungwon’s friend automatically meant he was off-limits since both you and Jungwon found it weird dating his friends, (in vice versa, so does the thought of Jungwon dating your friends.) Even though you and Heeseung were classmates first, and somewhere there, you had a crush on Heeseung first before he became friends with Jungwon, you decided that he’s automatically off-limits the moment Arcanum was formed. 

Still, in your mind, even if Heeseung wasn’t Jungwon’s friend, he is still unreachable. 

Heeseung’s aura and charisma can be seen from the way he controls the stage up to how he presents himself in court and classroom. He’s proud of it, and can be defined untouchable like the rest of his bandmates.

He’s like a star that is far from your reach. Hundreds of girls would die to be his girlfriend. There’s not a day where he receives confessions. But Heeseung would just laugh it off, rejecting it with a kind tone and apologies, and everyone knows why: Lee Heeseung isn’t looking for a relationship at the moment, which crushes every girl’s dream of becoming his. 

And that sort of includes you, but you know that you’re far from becoming Heeseung’s girlfriend. There were prettier, curvier, and even smarter girls who got rejected by Heeseung. That’s why you know it’ll never cross his mind to even spare a glance at you — his friend’s older sister. 

You’re decent, average grades, and probably being an independent sister who looks after her younger brother is the only thing that you can brag about. Still, that doesn’t make you stand out of the crowd. That’s why you’re long convinced that Heeseung wouldn’t even notice you, hence making him more unreachable.

Yet, there has always been a small part inside you, wondering — probably yearning, if Heeseung can still be reachable for you. 

-

Second semesters are always hell. For some reason, you feel like there’s a curse in the second semester because the course subjects always feel heavy and draining as if it’s challenging you to give up before the academic year ends.

“This project will take about 60% of your midterm grades, so I want everyone to be crucial in this paper,” and to make it worse, you choose an elective that demands more than your major subjects. A straight thin line forming on your lips as you jotted down the instructions that’s currently flashed on the tv screen.

“You can choose your own partner in this project, but you can also opt to do it solo, just kindly inform the class beadle and have her send me the list by the end of the day, any questions?” You stared at your notes. Although the paper analysis will be heavy for you, you’ll rather do it solo than do it with someone who’ll probably slack off and leave you to do all the work. 

The professor dismissed the class. Everyone was scurrying on their desk, eager for lunch while you took your time putting down your things inside your bag, even grabbing your phone to check any message from your friends that you didn’t notice the figure approaching you.

“Y/n hey,” you felt someone tapping you back and as you turned around, you saw Heeseung standing in front of you. You only stared at him and his boyish smile while his hands were in his slack’s pockets. His backpack swinging on his right arm while he had his hairstyle like he just messily brushed it using his hand and yet, it doesn’t look like a mess. 

God, you always forgot how handsome Heeseung was up close, but that's not what you had in your mind right now. 

“Hi,” you said, barely audible. Confusion got into you since this is the first time Heeseung approached you. 

“Can we be partners for the project?” he asked, and it took you a minute to process what he just said. 

“Why?” you immediately blurted out, hopefully it didn’t come as offensive as you intended it to be. Just surprised.

“Well, you’re the only one I’m kinda close with here,” Heeseung pointed out, and that made you confused. “And you’re good at this kind of project.”

Now the second sentence made sense. “Lee Heeseung, I’m not going to carry your ass in this project.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened, “wait, that’s not what I meant. What I’m trying to say is that I trust you not to give us low grades, we’ll work together of course.” 

You only blinked. Together. For the years you and Heeseung had been classmates, this is probably the first time you and Heeseung become partners for a project. Sometimes, you two do end up in a group but this one’s different. It’s just going to be the two of you. Alone. And the fact that he asked you to be his partner had your heart going crazy. 

“You can’t do it alone? Like, genuinely?” you asked once again. 

Heeseung looks away embarrassed, “have you seen me reading a whole novel? I’ll doze off before I can go to the second page. Plus I think two heads are better than one.” 

You looked away. A part of you is panicking inside. Screaming “Emergency!” the more you interact with him, the more you’re going to be convinced that he’s reachable. But another part of you is screaming, “go get that bag!” this is your chance! You shouldn’t turn it down. 

“Fine. This one’s a month-long project, the deadline is during the examination period but I prefer passing it a week before our exam so that I can focus on my other subjects,” you explained. “Is that okay with you?”

In the end, your crush on him is bigger than your rationality. Brain short-circuiting and just convincing yourself that this is a good idea. 

“All good for me — oh right, we have a band practice in your house later after class, we can meet up there so that we can choose what novel we are going to analyse and distribute the task, how’s that sounds?” he suggested. 

See this is why Heeseung is such a dream guy. He knows how to balance his academics, even with the hectic basketball practice and band practice, he can still find time to prioritise his studies and even acing it out. 

You hate that he’s so admirable yet out of your reach, and even though he’s standing in front of you, asking you to be his project partner, you can still feel the barrier between the two of you. 

“Fine, but I might go home a bit late, I have dinner with my friends.” that was the only thing that you said before grabbing your bag. “Is there anything else that you need?”

“Nothing else, I got the instructions on my notes too. So, see you later?” Heeseung smiles. 

“See you later Heeseung,” you only said, trying your best to act nonchalantly even though your heart’s going to explode any minute.

“Oh right, eat well! Bye!” and with that, Heeseung leaves you alone there standing, caught-off guard with his words. 

What the actual fuck. You cursed internally. His words loop in your mind until you’ve met with your friends. 

“Eat well!? Girl! You should eat a lot, not spend your lunch with iced coffee!” your best friend Karina, shrieks. 

The three of you are at some small coffee shop outside Decelis for lunch. Of course, you’ll have to report your interaction with Heeseung to your friends, who were almost celebrating because of it.

“If he says that to you, then he should’ve given you money to buy your lunch so that you’ll eat well,” Yunah added, almost laughing. 

“Stop it guys, you two are being too loud,” you said in defeat, but the faint blush on your cheeks gives off the fact that you were flustered. “Okay fine, I’ll buy a sandwich and fries.” 

“Oh Heeseung’s impact~ I mean if my crush told me that, I’ll buy myself food too,” Karina teases.

You could only roll your eyes in annoyance. Standing up from your seat to buy some food for you — and not because Heeseung told you to eat well, but because you know that iced coffee wouldn’t suffice. 

You returned to your table with a tray of selected savory breads instead. Karina and Yunah are still eyeing you teasingly, which makes you cautious all of the sudden. 

“Have you ever thought about why he approached you to become his partner for the project?” Yunah asked. 

“He did say I’m the only one he’s closed with in our section,” you explained. 

“Close? Since when are you guys close? He’s much closer to Jungwon than you,” Karina rebutted.

Karina wasn’t lying. You and Heeseung aren't close. He’s the only one you interacted the least out of Arcanum. And whenever you think about it, it’s probably because your romantic crush on him makes him intimidating to you. 

“Okay? Well at least we know each other?” you weren’t sure why Heeseung did approach you, and you were holding yourself to not jump into any other conclusions. “It’s just a project guys, it’s not like he’s asking me out on a date.”

“See, what if that project of yours will lead to that conclusion —”

“You guys got to stop feeding into my delusions, I’m still not going to date him, he’s Jungwon’s friend,” 

“And if he doesn’t?” Karina asked. 

“I told you guys this about a hundred times, Heeseung’s not looking for a relationship at the moment, means he’s not serious about commitments, while I prefer committed relationship,” you explained further. 

“Okay and? You might be the girl that’ll make him commit,” Yunah added. 

“Guys oh my god, stop enabling me! You two are just making it worse!” you frustratedly laughed, making the two of them laugh. 

“But I’m still suspicious about Heeseung, you need to update us girl!” Karina eagerly said. “My bet is that Heeseung does have other intentions on approaching you,”

“This is nothing guys, I swear.” you casually said to them, even though deep inside you wanted to trust your friends’ words. Because, what if really? There’s a reason why Heeseung approached you all of the sudden?

The remaining afternoon classes went on. Reports, lessons, and recitations were done with ease even though you almost dozed off in one subject. The afternoon slowly darkens, with the orange sky welcoming you as you step outside your department building. 

You’ve met up with Karina and Yunah to have early dinner at a small local eatery outside Decelis University. The sun had completely set but the three of you remained at the eatery, spending a few hours gossiping and talking shit about your classmates. Later then, you three decided to leave the place and opt for frozen yoghurt as dessert. 

Yunah bid goodbye first, since her dormitory is just nearby the yoghurt place. While you and Karina walked towards the bus stop since she lives an hour away from Decelis. Conversations never stop until your friend’s bus arrives. You hugged her goodbye and as you watched the bus leave, that was your cue to go home. 

Your home, the house that you grew up in, is located just a few blocks away from Decelis. Your parents were always away due to their job, rarely home only during important events like holidays or graduations, that’s why you’ve grown accustomed to its silence. Back when you were kids, you had servants attending you but now that you and Jungwon are old enough, it has always been the two of you now, learning independence while your parents aren’t around. 

As you reached the front door of your house, you could already hear the faint sounds of their instruments, you glanced at your watch and noticed that it’s already seven-thirty in the evening, which means that they had started practice an hour ago. They’ll finish it around nine but that doesn’t mean they’ll be going home by that time. Sometimes they would play games or have snacks, either way, you’re used to it. 

You open the door quietly enough to not disturb them, removing your shoes and placing it on the racks near the doorway before you make your entrance. 

They continued practicing but all eyes darted on you, making you walk faster. A few nods and soft “hi” and “hello” were exchanged as you passed by them. It has become a usual scenario wherever you go home by the time they’re practicing, you’ll greet them out of decency.

You’re careful not to disturb them in their practice, that’s why you’re always in your room whenever they’re practicing. They do sometimes ask you to join them for dinner, which you’ll gladly do for free food. Usually, you’ll just sit there and listen to their conversation, but most of the time, they do include you in their talk. Jay and Sunghoon, being the most talkative, made you comfortable around them. 

“Noona, we have pizzas on the dining table!” Jungwon shouted, not even stopping from playing the drums. 

“I’m already full! I’ll be in my room!” you shouted before going upstairs towards your room. It wasn’t that soundproof but it was muffled enough for you not to be annoyed by the noise. 

You took a short shower before changing into a fitted shirt and pajamas, wearing a zipped jacket in addition because you were feeling cold that night. As you sat on the edge of your bed, your mind was racing all of the sudden, remembering that Heeseung was supposed to meet you tonight for the project.

Coincidentally, a knock on the door startled you, and as you opened it, Jungwon was standing in front of you. 

“Heeseung hyung is looking for you,” he said, and you can see the weird look he was giving you. Like a cat judging your whole existence.

“Did he tell you why?” you asked him.

“He said something about a project, you two were partners,” noticing the way Jungwon cringed when he said “partners.” 

“Okay, just a minute,” you grabbed your iPad and phone before going out. Patting your brother’s shoulder before you push him to start walking. You two went downstairs where the boys are on the couch, drinking some colas and eating the cold pizza. 

“Hi y/n, want some pizza?” Sunghoon offered as soon as you’re near them, but you only gave him a smile. 

“Thanks still full,” you said as you approached Heeseung who immediately darted his attention to you.

“Should we start now?” he asked, round eyes staring at you. “I’m still eating.” 

“Okay fine, why call me now then?” you crossed your arms. 

He raised the bitten pizza before giving you a smile. “Want some?”

His bandmates looked at him like they were judging his whole existence. While you only stared at him for a second before a “Huh?” escapes your lips, immediately brushing it off with a soft laugh. 

“I already told you guys, I’m still full.” you repeated. “I’ll be outside by the patio, just call me if we can start the project.” 

Heeseung watched as you went towards the hallway where the backdoor of the patio is located, his stare went for long until he felt a crumpled tissue land on his face. 

“The fuck was that?” Jungwon asked in a serious tone. 

“I’m just offering her some food,” Heeseung shrugs. “You didn’t call out Sunghoon, he’s the first one to offer.”

“Well, if you had known that I offered her first, you wouldn’t have offered either,” Sunghoon rebutted. 

“Maybe she’ll eat it if I’m the one who offered her food.” The vocalist said so casually that it made his bandmates laugh. 

“Wow, that’s rich coming from you,” Jay taunted. “You guys aren’t even that close.” 

“Yeah, that’s why it’s okay if I offer her pizza, we’re close,” Sunghoon added, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Stop talking about my sister like I’m not here,” the youngest groans. “Really, hyungs, not only you, Heeseung hyung. Seriously —”

“Don’t date your sister, we know Jungwon, that’s like the first thing you said during our first practice in your house,” Jay answered. 

“And you have nothing to worry about? I’m literally engaged while Jay’s still yearning for that mystery girl of his.” Sunghoon stated the obvious. 

“Okay maybe you can get worried about Heeseung,” Jay grinned. 

Heeseung immediately sat up from his seat, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips. “You don’t have to worry about me too, I am not looking for a relationship you know that.” 

“Sure Hee, whatever floats your boat,” Jay mocks. 

“Yeah sure, now if you excuse me, I’ll be going to the patio because y/n and I are going to discuss our project which is a novel analysis, and you have nothing to worry about Jungwon,” Heeseung explains, saluting mockingly to Jungwon who could only do nothing but watch his friend go towards the hallway where the backdoor was. 

“Not going to stop him?” Sunghoon teased.

“I don’t want to be that annoying brother who’s too protective,” Jungwon replied, taking a sip on his drinks. 

Jay lets out a sarcastic laughter. “You didn’t just fucking said that right now.” 

Meanwhile, you're sitting peacefully on the long couch of your patio. Reviewing the instructions given by your professor when you heard the metal door creaking. Startled, you glanced at it and saw Heeseung leaning against the doorframe. 

“So, our project?” he started, approaching you as he sat on the other chair, immediately, you fixed your position, sitting legs criss-cross as you tried to act as normal as possible even though your heart was racing, mind panicking internally. 

You couldn’t even look at him for so long that you immediately scrolled through your iPad, trying to act serious even though you're palpitating inside. Is it the iced coffee you had for lunch or just the thought that Heeseung’s sitting near you? You don’t know but it’s not helping at all.

“Right, any suggestions on the novel we will be choosing? Prof. Jeon told us we can choose any novel that we wanted as long as we were able to make a good argument about why we chose it,” you explained, still eyeing your iPad where your notes were. 

“Hmm good question, you choose our novel, I don’t even know what’s good or not,” Heeseung suggested. 

That’s when you only look at him, “Heeseung, I told you I’m not going to carry you in this project.”

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “No, that’s not what I meant! You suggest a novel and I’m going to read it, even buy it for our project’s sake, and try my best to understand it. I’m just really not that great at this type of project so please help me with this one.”

You only blinked. Staring at him who’s pleading at you, which is funny because you never expect Heeseung — one of your department’s top students, to be failing in some areas.

“Okay but why did you even choose modern literature as an elective?” you asked suddenly confused. 

“Ran out of slots in analytical economics.” Heeseung casually said. “Come on, don’t leave me with this one y/n, I can’t fail this elective.” 

“I’m not, don't worry,” you laughed. “I’m just surprised that you’re not good at this one.” 

Heeseung chuckles because of your statement. “What? What makes you think I excel in everything?” 

You stopped for a second, “I mean — you’re one of our top students, Heeseung, that’s why.” 

“Hey, I’m not that smart, I just study hard,” Heeseung nonchalantly said. “Going back to our topic, how about we go with your favorite novel?”

“Okay, no need to flaunt it,” you sarcastically remarked. “My favorite novel? It’s The Virgin Suicides.”

“Does this involve actions and stuff?” 

You laugh at his words. “You really think a novel titled ‘The Virgin Suicides’ involves actions and stuff?” 

“I’m just kidding! Watch the movie and sure, let’s go with that one.”

A chuckle of disbelief escapes your lips, “you’ve watched the movie?”

“Hey, it’s a Sofia Coppola movie.” Heeseung pointed out. 

“So you’re a cinephile of sorts? Is your favorite movie American Psycho or some 1980s Korean independent film that has low budget but great cinematography?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes I do love watching movies but no, my favorite movie is Toy Story 3.” 

Another laughter escapes your mouth, hearing Heeseung’s laughter made you forget the reason why you two were at that patio. You don’t know whether to believe his words or not, but hearing his soft laughter just made the butterflies in your stomach flutter so hard that you’re trying your best to conceal the fleeting feeling. 

With the cold breeze of the summer night, along the thousands of stars in the night sky, made the atmosphere lighter. Brighter along with the soft yellow lights around your patio. Heeseung’s smile never left as he stared at you, which made your smile turn into a thin line. 

So, this is what talking to your ultimate crush feels like. You thought. And for a moment, your heart stopped, realizing that this is too good to be true — making you snap from reality. That’s why you diverted back to the reason why you and Heeseung are talking in the first place. 

Going back to your meeting, you two equally divided the parts. The project seems to be lighter now that your task has been divided. Heeseung suggested that you two should brainstorm after finishing the novel, which you mindlessly nodded, jotting down the deadlines you two made so that you can finish the project in no time. 

“You know it’ll be interesting if we compare the movie adaptation to the novel,” Heeseung suggested as the two of you decided to finish the meeting. Going inside your house, but stopping midway in the hallway. 

“You’re really dedicating your time for this project huh?” you teased. “I mean I don’t mind at all.”

“Oh great! We should watch it together, what do you think?”

“What —” you were caught-off guard. Did Heeseung just ask you to watch it together with him?

You became quiet for a moment. Recalling your friend’s words — how Heeseung has other intentions on why he approached you for the project. Is this the reason? You’ve got to be kidding because why would Heeseung ask you to watch The Virgin Suicides with him? For a project that’s only a novel analysis? There’s got to be another reason why. 

But from the moment you were too quiet, too deep in your thoughts, a loud clearing of the throat snapped you out. You glanced and saw Jungwon raising an eyebrow at the two of you. 

“Jay hyung and Sunghoon hyung had left a while ago,” Jungwon stated. “They said you’re taking your time with y/n.”

“Ah shit, now I have to commute back home,” Heeseung groans. “Sorry Won, we just want to make sure our project’s perfect and organized.”

Jungwon only shrugs before glancing at you — that’s when you remembered.  

“I’m okay with it, let’s just do it after finishing the novel,” you answered Heeseung. “I think that concludes everything about our project.”

“Yeah sure, well thanks for your time y/n. I have to go now before Jungwon kicks me out,” Heeseung laughs. 

“I really am about to,” Jungwon said with a glare. 

Heeseung gives you a small smile and wave before walking towards Jungwon who only followed his friend, leaving you standing there, heart bursting out any moment. 

You could only curse internally. You didn’t just fucking spent a few hours with your ultimate crush alone in your patio. God, your preconceived notion of him being everyone’s dream guy with all the brains and charisma is the tip of the iceberg. He just happens to be pathetic in some areas but at the same time, still knows the littlest details in niche topics. You want to curse the gods because why would they create such an ideal man but make him unreachable for you. 

You could only stomp your feet out of frustration before calming yourself for a minute. Taking deep breaths, you decided to call it night, leaving the hallway and going upstairs when midway, your younger brother called you, watching him climb the stairs before standing next to you. 

“So, you and Heeseung hyung —”

“Are partners for our elective project, nothing more, nothing less,” you replied immediately. “It’s normal Won, we’re classmates remember.”

“Just reminding you noona, about our agreement,” Jungwon heaves out a sigh. “Don’t want you to fall for Heeseung hyung, he kinda tends to give girls mixed signals.” 

“Funny that you’re saying that when he’s a friend of yours,” you pointed out. 

“He knows it himself too,” Jungwon shrugs.

“Don’t worry about it Won, I don’t think Heeseung finds me attractive though.” you answered, thinking that Arcanum sees you as ‘Jungwon’s older sister.’ 

“Hey! You’re pretty, what on earth are you talking about?” your younger brother immediately replied, seeing him all worked-up, you could only laugh as you pat his shoulders.

“You’re just saying that because we’re siblings,” you teased. “You don’t have to worry about anything Won, this is just a project. Okay, I’m kinda tired now, so let’s just go to sleep.” 

The two of you went upstairs together, saying goodnight to each other before proceeding to go to each other’s room. The beaming silence makes you lost in your thoughts. You made your way towards your bed and as you lay down there, clutching on your iPad, the smile on your face never faded, heck it even grew wider at the thought that you have reasons to grow closer with Heeseung. 

Of course, it’s still under the disguise of the fact that you two were project partners, but it’s a way to show to you that Heeseung is, somehow, reachable. 

-

The next few weeks were nothing but a fast forward in your life. 

You continue going on with your routine, with one sudden turn — the novel rests idly inside your bag. Rereading it for the project, and as you turn every page you wonder about your partner. 

It halted to you that everything was actually for project purposes. You and Heeseung remained the same. The barrier between the two of you going back to the same height and him returning to your unreachable category — and you were okay with it, no more heart burns and an imaginative mind clouding your delusional self.

Of course, Heeseung continued coming over to your place. Their band practices went normal where you would just greet them with short conversations before you lock yourself in your room. No more private conversations and such, you can tell that Jungwon felt at ease, thinking what you and Heeseung had is just some academic collaboration. 

But by the end of the week, you were surprised when Heeseung approached you. 

“I’m like halfway through the novel and there’s a lot of scenes that were so important but weren't included in the film, we need to brainstorm that.” Heeseung told you.

“I thought you'd be the type to doze off before proceeding to the next page?” you teased. 

“Well I need to lock in because I’m required to read it, but it's an interesting novel though,” he replied. 

And just when you thought you'd be at peace. Heeseung asked you for a short brainstorming. “Alright, you choose when and what time since you’re the busy one here.”

“I’m thinking Saturday, it’s my free day. I literally just sleep and play the whole day, so I wouldn’t mind spending my free day with you.” 

You tried your best to ignore his words. Cursing him internally because why does he always catch you off guard? You let out an awkward chuckle before glancing at him. “Okay, Saturday — wait, this Saturday right?”

Heeseung only nods. “Cool — uhm, what time and where?”

“Wait, how about we exchange numbers? So that we can contact each other.” 

Woah. This is going to be the end of you. Lee Heeseung asking for your number? Now that’s a reach. You mindlessly nod, letting out a squeaky “sure” before grabbing your phone for him to type his number — same goes with him on your phone. 

“There, I even put my photo there too,” Heeseung laughs, giving you back your phone. 

“You’re fast, I would’ve put a meme photo on your contact list.” you only replied as you gave him back his phone. You glanced at his contact number wherein his selfie is already plastered on his contact photo. You can tell that he just took the photo just now and why the hell does he know his angle? Now you’re just frustrated because he’s too good with everything he does. 

“You didn’t put a photo of yours,” Heeseung said, looking at the dull contact. “Come on, I’ll take a picture of you.”

And as if his words were like a spell, you only smiled in front of him as you held out a small peace sign. Heeseung smiles as he captures the photo, saving it as your contact photo. 

“Cute, now, we match,” Heeseung flaunts his contact photo on you, which only made you chuckle. Trying so hard not to give his words meaning. 

“Just tell me the details Heeseung, see you on Saturday,” you told him. “I have to go now, my friends are waiting for me.”

“See you! Stay safe!” he said, waving lightly as you left. 

You wanted to scream. Really, you’re internally screaming. You need a pillow where you can muffle your screams but the only thing you could do is cover your face with your hands as you scream. Both Karina and Yunah looked at you teasingly as you dropped on your knees inside Yunah’s dorm room. 

“No, why would he do that!? Why!?” you whined, as you dropped dead on the floor. 

“See I told you he has intentions,” Karina pointed out. 

“No! He can’t! Maybe he’s just nice —”

“Girl, are you serious? He said, and I quote “I don’t mind spending my free day with you.” and you’re going to conclude that he’s just nice!?” Yunah frustratedly shouted. 

“Let’s break it down y/n. First, he asked you to meet him on a Saturday, his supposed free day but he doesn’t mind spending it with you. Then, he asked for your number, and he fucking took a photo of you! And what did he say afterwards? You two match? What the actual fuck because the last straw was him telling you “stay safe!” if that doesn’t conclude anything other than he’s interested in you, then I don’t know why you’re so in denial about it.” Karina summarized.

You could only let out a deep sigh. Karina had summarized EVERY hint that Heeseung may be into you, not until you remember — “But Jungwon said he’s a mixed signal type of guy, I just don’t want to jump into conclusions guys,” you immediately rebutted. 

Both Yunah and Karina looked at you, a furrow of eyebrows and forehead creased before a disappointed “ahhh” escaped their lips.

“I mean, have you seen the guy? He has a natural flirty attitude! So the tendency is girls will really think that he’s interested in them ��� even me! But I don’t want to assume anymore but ugh!” that’s when you grabbed Yunah’s plushie and smashed your face right into it. Letting out a muffled scream for five seconds before looking at your friends once again with a pitied look. 

“We get it, your long-time crush, who you always say is unreachable suddenly became reachable midway junior year, your crash-out is valid girl,” Yunah assured. “But don’t forget to address the other problem, he’s Jungwon’s friend.”

“Fuck, I forgot that one,” you only let out a breathy laugh. “Okay, I’m calmed now. This is just a crash out, just a small vent because Heeseung approached me and asked for my number. This is nothing guys! It’s totally nothing.” 

“If he really is a mixed-signal giver, then just be careful y/n, those are the worst type of guys,” Karina huffs.

“I know, just don’t enable me anymore! You guys are at fault in this one too,” you pointed, making your best friends laugh. 

-

When Saturday arrived, you and Heeseung agreed to meet at a small coffee shop near Decelis after lunch. 

By the time you arrived at the coffee shop, you quickly noticed Heeseung near a corner. He’s reading the novel, even wearing glasses that you assumed were fake yet, it suits his visual. You only smile before walking towards him, who immediately felt your presence. 

“Hi” he greets, smiling as you sit in front of him. 

“Hi, have you ordered coffee?” you asked. 

“I did, how about you?” he asked you back.

“Maybe later, since I’m still full from lunch,” you simply said. “Should we start our brainstorming or do you want to read more pages?”

Heeseung softly chuckles, closing the book as he looks at you. “No wonder this is your favorite novel, it’s a good novel to be honest.”

A skip in your heart was all you felt when he said those words. Smiling, you said, “really?” as Heeseung continued explaining to you why he liked the novel. You only sat there, watching Heeseung ramble about the novel — your favorite novel to be exact.

You know that this is only for academic purposes but hearing Heeseung talk about “The Virgin Suicides” tugs your heart with joy. It’s your favorite novel! It felt like he was getting to know you through your favorite stuff.

“How about you? Don’t tell me, you’re not reading it anymore because you’ve read it?” Heeseung suddenly blurted out, making you laugh softly before grabbing your bag, revealing your old copy which was full of anecdotes and bookmarks. 

“Woah, that’s impressive,” he said, grabbing your copy and skimming through it. 

“I have notes and have bookmarked my favorite quote and everything, but it’s not bad to reread it again in case I missed something,” you simply shrugged. 

“Glad I chose you as my partner in this project,” Heeseung casually said and you only stared at him for a second before taking a sip on your coffee. 

“Consider yourself lucky,” you stated, trying hard to conceal your flusteredness. 

As Heeseung returned you the book, your phone suddenly started ringing. You immediately grabbed it from your bag, and saw that it was Jungwon who’s calling. 

Heeseung watched as your soft expression turned into a different one in a span of your call with Jungwon, your tone rising higher than before like you were lecturing your younger brother. He only smiled as you rolled your eyes along with your frown. 

“You owe me Jungwon,” you told your brother before ending up the call. 

“You need to go now?” Heeseung asked. 

“No, but maybe later. Jungwon and I were supposed to do groceries but he’s busy he told me, he’s going to cram a whole lesson for their quiz, and you know how he is when he’s too focused on reviewing,” you explained to Heeseung. “Now I have to go to the store alone —”

“I can come with you,” Heeseung volunteered. 

“What? No, it’s okay Hee, I’ll just book a car on the way home —” 

“Still, it’s heavy for you to carry it, come on, I don’t mind,” he insisted.

“You might end up going home late,” you rebutted, praying internally that he’d take the hint. 

“And I don’t mind at all,” Heeseung stands up from his seat, and that’s when you realise that you’re doomed. “Come on now, we managed to make progress with our project. Let’s go get those groceries.”

The supermarket is just a bus stop away from Decelis. Once you two entered the busy store, Heeseung automatically pulled a cart which made you stop, glancing at him who only gave you a smile. 

“Go on, I’ll just follow you behind,” Heeseung gestured and you only nod, going straight for the nearest aisle. 

You’re not going to give meaning to everything. You chanted internally. It’s just Heeseung accompanying you to go on your weekly groceries run, because your brother ditched you. He’s just there to accompany you. Nothing more, nothing less. 

But curse the movies and novels because you know groceries. They’re sweet and cute, and have a touch of domesticity in it. Catering to each other’s references, choosing what kind of cereal you two will buy or something. 

The thought of you doing groceries with Heeseung had your imagination go so creative that you almost bumped to the fruit stand. If it wasn’t Heeseung who pulled you immediately, you would’ve knocked down the pyramid of oranges. 

“Careful there,” Heeseung laughs. “Going to buy some fruits?”

“Maybe some bananas since Jungwon likes snacking on them — oh, strawberries too.” you awkwardly walked away from his touch and proceeded to the selection of fruits, eyeing on the fresh looking ones. 

Heeseung could only stare at you as your brows furrowed, grabbing every container, staring at it for every second before moving on to another. It wasn’t until you picked the best and proceeded to the other section. 

He follows you quietly. Watching you grab some products as the cart started to become halfway full, and you two haven’t gone to the other sections. Heeseung silently observes you as you mumble some words like how you’ll probably cook the chicken by Thursday, or you need this ingredient. 

Now, he understands why Jungwon still depends on you even though their drummer tends to have a matured streak. His older sister is reliable, and he thinks that that’s admirable of you. 

“You’re taking these groceries seriously,” Heeseung blurted out, snapping your thoughts. That’s when you realized that you spent a few minutes walking around and picking up products while Heeseung only followed you behind, pushing the cart for you. 

“Sorry, I’m not really fun to be with, especially in a grocery store,” you apologetically replied. 

“It’s not like that, but you look cute to look at,” Heeseung pointed out. “You’re pouting too much just staring at what kind of tofu are you going to buy.”

A faint blush rushed over your cheeks, you awkwardly laughed as you looked away from him. “Just a habit — come on now, I know you’re dying to go to the snacks section.”

As the two of you went through the snacks section, you skimmed around the aisles of chips, grabbing your favorite along with Jungwon’s. As you returned to Heeseung, you noticed how he sneaked in some snacks for him, while he innocently looked away.

You only smiled as you placed down the chips, “fine, I’ll buy it for you Heeseung.”

“Wait, I’m going to pay you with cash,” Heeseung argued, grabbing his wallet when you stopped him.

“A compensation for accompanying me,” you rebutted. “So that you have your own chips in our house.”

Heeseung only has an embarrassed look on his face as he grabs another one. “Fine, but I’ll add another one.”

You two were able to finish the groceries after a half an hour, paying it with the credit card your parents left. Now, the two of you are by the small food court beside the supermarket, buying some snacks for the two of you. 

“This is nice,” Heeseung said. The bowl of instant ramen is warm in front of him as he blows off some steam before eating it. 

“You’re much more patient than Jungwon,” you replied, taking a small bite on the fish cake. “I always wanted to try the snacks here, but Jungwon would prefer going home after.”

“Then next time you go buy your groceries, text me so I can accompany you again,” Heeseung suggested. 

“You’re just here for the free snacks.” you jokingly said.

“That, and I don’t mind accompanying you.” Heeseung rebutted. “Something about doing groceries feels nice, not gonna lie.”

Who would’ve thought? Lee Heeseung doesn’t mind doing groceries with you? The thought sounds nice — sweet if you’re being exaggerated. Heeseung helped in placing the products inside the box, even carrying the box so that you wouldn’t lift a finger. But you know that this is just a one time thing. Jungwon will kill both of you if he discovers that Heeseung accompanied you to do groceries.

-

A few days had passed and your progress in the project was halfway done. Just a little smoothing on the analysis and adaptation comparison (which wasn't from the instructions but you and Heeseung put it in in hopes of gaining additional points.), and you can pass the project even earlier than you two had scheduled. 

Heeseung’s analysis and reports were on spot. No need for you to revise since it was clear and concise, and you’re glad that you agreed to become his partner. You weren’t stressed throughout the paper, making you admire Heeseung for his dedication in the project. 

Now, you’re sitting on your couch, biting on your nails as you remember that today was the day that you’re half-anticipating, half-dreading for — your movie screening with Heeseung. 

Considering that you’re just doing it in the abode of your home, and considering that you two are just project partners who insisted on watching the movie together, you call it a movie screening rather than a date. (and you consider that your younger brother might join in case something happens between you and Heeseung — which, your very imaginative mind shouldn’t have clouded your thoughts but anyway.) 

A ring on the doorbell startled you, almost tripping as you tried to put on your house slippers. As you opened the door, there stood Heeseung in his glory, wearing his department jacket with a fitted sleeveless shirt underneath that hugged his leaned body. Not to mention, those baggy denim pants and cool sneakers.

Your first thought is why he’s overdressed for a movie screening but fucking hell, he’s so handsome that your mind short-circuited especially when he’s holding a helmet. Did he just drive all the way here using his motorbike? God forbids Lee Heeseung to be ten times more attractive than what you’ve thought. 

“Come in,” you said in a quiet yet high-pitched tone that as Heeseung passed by, you physically cringed because of it. 

“So, are you ready for some movie date?” Heeseung asked, slumping on the couch comfortably. 

It’s a movie screening. A movie screening, not a date. This doesn’t look like a date — “of course! Just open the tv, I already selected it there. I’ll just go get some snacks.” you said, going towards the kitchen where your stock was.

“Need help?” Heeseung asked.

“No thanks! You’re a guest, make yourself comfortable!” you answered, because deep inside you’re about to burst any moment.

What the hell. Of course, Heeseung doesn’t know how to take a hint because he stood up from the couch like the gentleman he is and followed you towards the kitchen. You let him wander around as you placed the microwaveable popcorn inside the microwave, and while waiting, you opened your fridge to grab a few drinks for the two of you. Placing it on the tray as Heeseung found the pantry of snacks. 

“Hey, my snacks are still here,” he laughed, grabbing the bag of chips and sweets you bought for him last week.

“You didn’t eat it when you had practice here?” you asked. 

“I told myself I’ll just eat it during our movie date,” Heeseung casually said, and you are holding yourself back from asking him why he keeps on saying that this is a date.

Mixed signals. Mixed signals! Heeseung probably didn’t mean it. You gave him an awkward smile before shifting your attention towards the microwave where just in time, had just finished cooking the popcorn. 

“Heeseung hyung? You’re here?” the two of you stopped when a familiar voice echoed inside the kitchen.

“We’re going to watch a movie for our project,” Heeseung casually said. “Wanna watch it with us?”

As you turn around, Jungwon gives you a knowing look. The “our agreement, don’t forget.” look and you only gave him a nod as he glanced back at his friend. 

“No thanks, you guys enjoy it though — hyung what I told you!” Jungwon warns once again, making Heeseung chuckle. 

“I know dude, calm down,” then, he looks at you. “Let’s go?”

As the two of you arrived at the living room, you two opted to sit on the long couch — sitting on both ends of the couch. You relaxed your legs on the extension of the couch, hugging the throw pillow while Heeseung had his legs sprawled on the space between the two of you. 

Jungwon passes by, glancing at the two of you, contended that you two are a few feet apart, he returns to his room and that was your cue. You grabbed the remote and clicked play, the sound of the movie slipping through the speaker, and there, the two of you watched in peace. 

For the duration of the movie, you two were too immersed with it. Only eating the snacks as both of you were too focused on the scenes, trying to understand the plot and narration, especially since both of you know that the movie’s adaptation is far from the novel. 

“I hate Trip,” Heeseung suddenly blurted out midway through the movie. You only glanced at him, clutching the pillow you were holding. “He’s such an asshole, leaving Lux on the field alone? That’s so sick.” 

“All of the guys are assholes,” you explained. “They don’t even know these girls, they just fantasized about them.”

“Yeah that too, but Trip’s the most jerk out of all of them,” Heeseung laughs. “After stealing Lux’ virginity, he immediately dropped her.”

“All guys do that,” you bitterly said. 

Heeseung didn’t say a word, immediately catching your bitter tone. He glances at you as you munched a few chips to ease the tension. 

“You don’t have to answer it but…saying from your experience?” he asked, body shifting to face you. 

“My ex-boyfriend he…it was after prom too, everything was special and wholesome — from what I feel, then a few weeks later he broke up with me,” you laughed bitterly. “But that was back in high school, I shouldn’t have dated high school guys, they’re immature and horny.” 

“Woah, that’s shitty of him,” Heeseung could only say. “Does he study here?”

“Why? Are you going to hunt him down? He went overseas, and don’t worry, Jungwon gave him a punch and kick in the shin,” you laughed.

“Is that why Jungwon’s so protective of you?” Heeseung asked out of the blue. 

“Half of it is the reason why,” you answered. “My ex was already a walking red flag before we got together, Jungwon warned me and I didn’t listen to him. So when it happened, he kinda had that ‘I told you so’ look but at the same time, he didn’t push it. Simply because I was really hurt at that time.”

Heeseung nods, watching as you shrug with your words, like you’re over it.

“I mean Jungwon’s not that overprotective at all. He’s not the ‘they have to go through me’ type of younger brother. He doesn’t care who I date but because of my experience, I pretty much held a high standard on dating guys.” you laughed.

“Oh really?” Heeseung lazily leans on the couch. “What’s your type then?”

You blinked at his words, knowing damn well that your whole ideal type is in front of you.

“Are we really pausing the movie midway for that question?”

“Come on, in exchange I’ll tell you my type,” he bargained.

Now you’re curious, wondering what kind of girl Heeseung wants, so you bite on it. 

“Okay, I want someone taller than me — that’s the only physical trait that I want. He’s got to be smart and handsome because Jungwon will judge me if I date an ugly and stupid guy. What else? I prefer a straightforward guy because mixed signals are shitty, I don’t want to waste my time overthinking your words.” you replied. 

You saw Heeseung's expression shift when you mention ‘straightforward guys.’ His jaw slacking before quipping a small smile before he spoke, “that’s all?”

“Do you want it to be really specific? Like he’s good at cooking or what type of sport he plays? I don’t go there, just be genuine and straightforward with your feelings for me, and we’re good.” you brushed off. “So, your type?”

“My type?” Heeseung ponders it for a moment, before glancing at you, his stare on you was too long but he doesn’t notice it — but you do. “Probably someone who’s mature and independent, but not too distant that she’s not open about her feelings. You get it right? I don’t mind their physical appearance. I just don’t want girls who are too clingy that it’s suffocating but at the same time, I still want them to be affectionate to me.” 

Not what you expected. Most boys would describe their ideal firstly by their physical appearance. Some want short girls, long hair or short hair, even the skin complexion. While Heeseung’s ideal type doesn’t rely on those, you can still conclude that his standards are high. 

“Sounds like your dream girl needs to be invented in a lab.” you teased. “Have you ever thought that maybe your dream girl is one of the girls you’ve rejected?”

“I know this kinda sounds egoistic but most girls, those who would confess their love to me, they sometimes just like the idea of being with me, Lee Heeseung. Most of them really don’t know who I really am and wouldn’t bother knowing me.”

And to think that you’re one of them gave you a hint of guilt. You have a lot of preconceived notions about Heeseung, assuming that he’s this dreamy guy that’s charismatic and everything. But with the small interactions that you had with him, you slowly realized that he’s more than what you thought. 

A small smile escapes your lips as you shift your attention to the paused screen of your tv, grabbing the remote and fiddling with it as the awkward silence hovered between the two of you. 

“So you’re just like the Lisbon sisters?” you gawked, and Heeseung stared at you for a second before bursting out into fits of laughter. 

“You have your way with words y/n,” Heeseung stated. “But you could say something like that — except the suicide part because my parents are actually decent people who wouldn’t put me on house arrest.” 

You two continued watching the movie. Both falling into a tranquil silence until the end of the movie. The ending credits were rolling but neither of you moved. That’s when you grabbed your phone to check what time it was — it was almost eight in the evening. 

“Great movie,” Heeseung started. “Cut out a lot of scenes from the novel, but Coppola managed to retain the whole vibe of the novel.” 

“I think our project will be successful, given that you had a lot of things to say, I feel like Mr. Jeon should give us additional points if we exceed his maximum number of pages.” you jokingly pointed out. 

“Hey, I’m sure you have much more to add to our project than I do,” Heeseung assured. “Either way, we’re a great team don’t you think?” 

Heeseung raises his hands, smiling at you who didn’t sink in what to do first. Not until Heeseung waves his hands one more time before you clasp his hands, shaking it as both smiles become wide. You didn’t miss the way Heeseung’s hands squeezed your hands lightly before letting it go. 

“We have a week before our agreed deadline, let’s get this done so that we can focus on our midterms,” Heeseung said, standing up from his seat. “I should get going now, Jungwon might wonder why I’m still around.” 

You only laughed as you stood up to walk him towards the door. “I enjoyed the movie Heeseung, take care on the way home.” 

But what surprised you is Heeseung suddenly brushed the stray hairs that almost covered your face, smiling as his hands linger near your cheeks a bit longer than you expected. 

“Goodnight y/n, I enjoyed the movie too,” Heeseung smiles. 

You watch as Heeseung hops onto his motorbike, waving at you before starting its engine and driving away. You stood there speechless in front of your doorway that you didn’t even notice that Jungwon had witnessed the scene. 

So when you turned around, you were surprised when you made eye contact with your younger brother. 

“Have you been there the whole time?” you asked, heart beating fast like you were a deer caught in the headlight. 

“No, I just got down,” Jungwon lied instead. “Heeseung hyung went home now?”

“Yeah — he just did,” you said, almost stumbling to your words. “It’s almost late, do you want to eat dinner or —”

“I’m curious, with the way Heeseung hyung acts around you, have you ever thought of having a crush on him?” Jungwon said, and that made your world stop. 

Were you that obvious? There’s no way Jungwon was able to catch it but then again, this is Jungwon we’re talking about. Your younger brother who’s observant and quick to pick up things. He’s the only person that knows you damn well.

“Why would you think of that?” you immediately asked instead.

“I mean, he’s a guy, he’s also handsome and how he acts — as a girl, have you?” and relief was all you could feel because Jungwon wasn't able to pick it up. 

“Jungwon, whenever I see Heeseung, I see him as your friend, and we’ve said it many times, it’s weird to date your friends.” you answered quickly, since it has always been your excuse. 

“Well, if he wasn’t my friend?” Jungwon asked, crossing his arms.  

You raised an eyebrow, now there’s a sudden change in Jungwon’s tone. Like he was asking you hypothetically. “Where is this going Won?”

“Nothing nothing,” Jungwon said, shaking his head as he headed towards the kitchen, with you following him behind. “You two have been close lately, that’s why. I’ve already told you about Heeseung hyung.”

“And I’m not going to give meaning to everything he does,” you assured, pinching your brother’s cheeks which made him scowl. “I’m not that stupid girl anymore Won.”

Despite internally, you were celebrating every interaction you had with Heeseung, you know that you’ll never have a chance with Heeseung. 

You can only hold on to the fact that Heeseung may be considered reachable in your sort. But of course, just like your other crushes, whatever you feel about Heeseung was just a crush. A fleeting feeling of admiration along with the butterflies in your stomach. Nothing more, because the deeper your feelings may go for him — it’ll just end up hurting you. 

-

You submitted your project just a few days before your planned deadline. Everything was perfect for you and Heeseung. The flow of the paper was readable, arranged properly with a clear analysis of the novel. Light revisions were made before passing it to Prof. Jeon. Your professor was impressed that you two were able to pass it earlier compared to others. Making you two confident that you’ll receive a passing grade from it.

But submitting the project also means that there’s no reason for you to approach Heeseung. But you find that situation better than getting closer than him. It’ll just save you from falling from him deeper. No more crash outs, no more venting of feelings, and assuming that everything Heeseung does has meaning —

“Hey, you’re going to that art exhibit?” Heeseung approaches you suddenly.

You glanced at him twice before your mouth moved, “wait, the one from Prof. Lee’s subject?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s voluntary but you’re interested in art right? I remember you told me that one time.” 

You couldn’t even recall when you told him that. Was it when you two were on your ride home from your groceries? Or was it when you two were discussing your novel analysis but got segue midway? Either way, you found yourself surprised to hear that from Heeseung. He remembered something that you’ve mentioned. 

“Oh — well, I do of course,” you stuttered. “Why?”

“Let’s go together? I also wanted to see it, they seem interesting,” Heeseung casually said. 

“Right, Saturday?” you asked. 

“Saturday afternoon? I’ll see you at the museum? Or should I just pick you up?” 

And let Jungwon see the two of you? “No, let’s just meet at the museum, around three?”

“Sounds great, see you!” Heeseung waves goodbye to you and you almost melt from where you were standing. 

Who would’ve thought that after the project. Heeseung will still find a way to approach you. Should you give a meaning to this one? Because there’s no way in hell that he asked you to go see an exhibit that is voluntary, on a Saturday, as what? As friends? You don’t even know if you could consider him as your friend. 

You tried to conceal your beating heart, but anytime it’s going to burst out at any moment. You wanted to go to an empty, hollow place and scream into the void, because as much as you want to deny it, you couldn’t help to conclude that you’re going out with Heeseung, alone, with no Yang Jungwon watching you two like a hawk. 

Yet, the thought of Heeseung being Jungwon’s friend was thrown out of the window the moment Saturday arrived. You stood there outside the entrance of the museum. Your hands clammy and sweaty as you stood there awkwardly, internally cursing yourself for arriving ten minutes earlier than your agreed time. 

You were wearing a white maxi skirt, pairing it with a baby tee and thin cardigan, not your usual get-up but you wanted to at least look decent in front of Heeseung. The art exhibit was located inside the museum of the art. It’s an exhibit dedicated to children’s rights. They displayed hundreds of drawings and paintings drawn by kids alongside important and historical paintings. 

Your professor, Ms. Lee was an advocate, that’s why she encouraged your class to visit the exhibit. While you’re thinking of going there along with your friends — Heeseung approached you first. 

Speaking of Heeseung, your eyes landed on him who’s walking towards you. The smile on his face widening as he stood in front of you. He was wearing a long-sleeved buttoned shirt, tucked in front of his washed denim pants. Some silver jewellery on his hands and neck, and to compliment it all, he was wearing his fake eyeglass with his hair bangs down.

“You look beautiful,” Heeseung started, and that’s when your heart started to beat rapidly.

“Thanks, you look good too,” you complimented him back. “Should we go inside?” 

The two of you made its way inside the entrance. Signing up for the exhibit before going inside the first room of the museum. 

It was quiet, a bit cold, and there were a lot of people who came by to visit the exhibit. You and Heeseung walked side by side, stopping at every painting just to read the description, and perhaps fawn over it even though it was obvious it was a kid’s painting. Sometimes, you gawk at the historical paintings. Despite visiting the museum a couple of times, you never failed to be mesmerized by it. 

“This one’s cute,” Heeseung pointed out. It was a painting of a kid’s pet — obviously, it looked like a monster rather than a dog. 

You stifle a laugh as Heeseung glances at you with a confused look. “Why? Did I say something wrong?”

“Nothing, you seem to be enjoying this one,” you pointed out. 

“You think I’m not the type of guy who would go to museums or some art gallery?” Heeseung asked. “Guess you don’t know me at all.” 

You became quiet for a minute, “I actually don’t, I’m surprised you agreed to come with me here.”

“Couldn’t miss the opportunity, it’s great to see kid’s scribbles beside historical paintings,” Heeseung laughs. 

“You seem fond of kids,” you told him. 

“That’s why I chose education, I always wanted to teach kids. I know they’re hyper and loud, but better to teach the alphabet than high school chemistry,” Heeseung explained. 

“Oh so education has always been your first choice?” you asked, surprised. 

“What? Surprised that a guy like me actually wanted to become a teacher? Yeah, a lot of people say that.”

“I don’t know, I’m just used to education students who weren't accepted to their first choice so they ended up choosing it,” Heeseung glances at you and you give him a smile. “I know because education wasn’t my first choice.”

“Wait right there, what?” Heeseung asked, surprised. “Not gonna lie, you give off the vibe of a girl who wanted to become a teacher.”

“I was planning on taking architecture but I failed the drawing test, so here I am,” you simply shrugged. “But I learned to love education too, so don’t come at me mr. education is my first choice.”

A small chuckle escapes on Heeseung’s lips, “I guess we really don’t know each other that well.”

“Right.” you only said. Realizing that you two are still on that stage where you two aren’t friends, but aren’t more than that — acquaintance? Maybe you’ll put you two in that category. Contended with that conclusion, you hum lightly as you shift your attention towards the paintings. 

The two of you continued walking around the room. You were simply amazed at the historical paintings but it’s funny seeing a six-years-old’s painting of her family beside it. But you can only feel nothing but small jumps of joy looking at it. 

Heeseung, on the other hand, seems to be more immersed in the gallery than you. Eyeing on every display the museum has. Laughing at some kid’s painting but at the same time, cooing at it. Finding it precious and innocent for him. 

As the two of you moved to the second room, only a few people were there. There weren’t any kid’s paintings anymore, only artifacts and displays but you and Heeseung decided to completely tour around the museum. 

“Why don’t you ask me a question?” Heeseung blurted out of nowhere. 

“What for?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, we don’t know each other very well,” Heeseung stated. “And you seem to have a lot of misinterpreted impressions about me.”

“Sounds like you just wanted to talk about you,” you grinned. 

“No, this is like, twenty questions. After you ask a question, I ask you a question back,” he said. 

“Alright,” you hum, thinking of what’s a decent question to ask him. “Will you still continue performing after graduation? You seem like you really wanted to become a teacher.” 

“Big question already? That’s hard,” for a minute Heeseung pondered about it, glancing at every display before looking at you. “I don’t mind, actually it depends on the others. Jay and Sunghoon wanted to, Jungwon isn’t still quite sure especially since he’s a year below us. We’ll talk about it next year.” 

“I’m pretty sure that Jungwon wanted to play for the band, he loves being part of Arcanum,” you shared, making Heeseung smile.

“Okay my turn, if Jungwon didn’t establish the ‘don’t date my sister’ rule, who would you date out of all his friends?” 

You awkwardly chuckled. “Why are you asking that?” 

“I’m just curious,” Heeseung nonchalantly replied.

“Will it boost your ego if I chose you?” you teased, and Heeseung scoffed in disbelief.

“It’s a hypothetical question y/n.”

“Fine, hypothetically I’ll choose Jake.” you answered. 

Heeseung’s brows furrowed. “Jake?” 

That’s when you laugh, “What? You thought it only revolved around Arcanum? Aren’t there like seven of you?” 

“Yeah but — Jake?” His tone surprised more than ever.

“It’s a hypothetical question, Heeseung,” you grinned. “No explanations, my turn and since we’re talking about dating, why are you still single?”

“I’ll get back to you y/n, but to answer your question, I just like being single. Having a girlfriend isn’t what I have in mind right now, and I don’t do casual shits too.”

“Jungwon told me that you’re a mixed signal giver,” you snitched, and Heeseung only laughed. 

“Everyone thinks that, but trust me, I don’t leave girls hanging. I guess they just assume that my gestures have meaning to it, that’s why they think I’m into them,” Heeseung explained. “I mean if I helped you carry some heavy things, would you give meaning to it?”

It’s funny because he did accompany you to do groceries one time. “That depends, if you helped me numerous times, then I’ll give meaning to it.” 

“Yeah well some girls don’t, one time, I helped a girl cross the street one time, and she thought I liked her,” Heeseung explained. “I’m just being nice!”

You only laughed at his words. “I mean if a handsome guy helped me cross the street, I’ll assume a lot of things too.” 

Heeseung groans, “whatever, I’ll just keep rejecting them, I enjoy being single. It’s chill and no love problems, look at Jay and Sunghoon, I don’t think I can do that to myself.” 

Your smile faded. Shifting your attention towards the display. Thinking that whatever you two are doing right now is probably a friendly date.

But at the same time, this is different from him helping someone cross the street. Heeseung could’ve asked his friends to accompany him, but Heeseung asked you and that’s all because he remembered that you like art. So how can you not give meaning to it?

“Okay my turn, so why Jake?” Heeseung changes the topic. 

“You’re seriously not going to let go of that one huh?” you let out a small chuckle before letting out a sigh. 

“I don’t know, he’s the first one that came to my mind,” you simply said, and in some ways, your answer wasn’t wrong. “He’s the one I’m closest to the most, maybe that’s another reason why.”

“How come you and him are closer than you and me?” Heeseung asked. “We’ve been classmates since freshman year.”

“I think it’s pretty normal, I’m not even close with most of our classmates either,” you laughed.

“I hope we become closer after this,” Heeseung blurted out. 

You stopped midway, glancing at him who only gave you a smile. 

“You’re too obvious you want me,” you teased, joking with your words.

“What if I told you that I do, want you?” he grins, before grabbing your hand as he pulls you towards the next hall. Surprised by his answer and gesture, you remained quiet as his hand remained on your throughout the whole exhibit. 

You two decided to have dinner outside after finishing touring the museum. At a fast food chain because you were craving their burgers. You two continued the twenty questions, until it was almost late and the traffic had slowly dissolved.

By the end of the day, Heeseung drove you home, even opening the car of the passenger seat for you. You could only smile as you find not only the action sweet — but your whole day with Heeseung.

Not only that but Heeseung walked you towards the front door of your house. He watched as you pressed the doorbell, before looking at him. 

“I had so much fun today,” you told him. “Thank you Heeseung, I didn’t expect that you would remember that I’m interested in art.” 

“I pay attention to what you say, I also had fun too,” Heeseung casually said, acting like it’s nothing but for you, it meant something. 

“Goodnight Heeseung,” you waved, but before you went, Heeseung suddenly grabbed you by your shoulder. 

Surprised, you only stood there. His round eyes staring at you like he doesn’t want you to leave yet. But what surprised you the most was when he faced you towards him. 

Close. Way too close. Heeseung’s eyes never left yours. You can feel it, your cheeks heating up, your heart beating fast like crazy. You don’t know what to do as Heeseung's eyes darted to your lips before glancing back at you — like he’s asking for permission. 

But before you could utter another word, the door swung open and you almost fell flat when you pushed yourself away from Heeseung. 

“You guys think that I’m fucking stupid!?” Jungwon stood there, his tone dripping with anger as you were frozen from where you were standing. 

“Jungwon, it’s not what it looks like —”

“I told you many times, you can fool any girl that you want but not my sister!” Jungwon pushed Heeseung on the chest, but Heeseung didn't move.

“Dude calm down!” Heeseung shouted instead.

“You know it yourself that you’re not ready for a relationship then what the fuck is this? Taking her out on a date and almost kissing her? Stay the fuck away from my sister!”

But a mocking laugh escapes on Heeseung’s lips, looking at Jungwon like he was taunting the younger one. “I wouldn’t be surprised if y/n ends up being single forever, you’re scaring guys away,”

“Guys like you hyung! You’re not even that serious when it comes to love.” Jungwon pointed out, making you realise that he was right, but that doesn’t give him the right to get angry at Heeseung. 

“Jungwon, we weren’t doing anything, Stop it,” you butt in.

That’s when he darted his attention to you. “I’ve warned you about Heeseung hyung many times, but you never listen to me — you never listen!” he shouted, and hearing those words felt like you’re in high school again. Remembering how angry Jungwon was when he discovered what happened to you. 

You stood there as the disappointment in Jungwon’s face became more clear. You wanted to defend yourself when Heeseung stepped in.

“Jungwon stop that. She’s older than you, have some respect.” he stated.

“Don’t interfere hyung, this is between me and my sister.” Jungwon coldly said. 

“You’re the one who should stop. You know you’re suffocating y/n don’t you?” a taunting smile forming on his lips. “She’s her own person, and she couldn’t even move because you’re breathing under her neck.”

Jungwon didn’t say a word, he didn’t rebut Heeseung’s words because deep inside, his friend was right. Still, a pissed expression was written over the younger’s face. Shooting glares at Heeseung. 

“I’m not that stupid to hurt her Jungwon, maybe you should try trusting her instead of caging her.” Heeseung added, and you wonder what he meant when he said that. 

But you watch as Heeseung walks away. Leaving you and Jungwon alone there. Your lips were tightly sealed before your brother faced you. 

“Do you like Heeseung hyung?” Jungwon corners. “Don’t lie to me noona.”

You stared at him for a moment. Guilt rushing in you because in some angle, there’s a part of you who’s at fault. “Fine, Jungwon, I have had a crush on him since freshman year but it’s just a crush.”

Jungwon could only laugh in disbelief. “So all the times I told you to stay away from him were useless?” 

“No, because from the start, I know I never stood a chance on him,” and every word you said hurts you. “Even now, our hangouts, whatever this was, and every gesture he does, I’m not going to give meaning to it. I don’t want to make an assumption unless he really confessed to me that he likes me.”

“You’re just leading yourself to a cliff,” Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “Why would you still entertain him even though you know you don’t stand a chance. I don’t get you — both of you actually.” 

“Maybe Heeseung’s right, you should just trust me instead of caging me,” you answered instead. “I know what I am doing Jungwon, maybe you should just let me make my own choices this time.”

Jungwon stared at you for a whole minute, before heaving out a sigh. “Don’t come at me when Heeseung hyung hurts you, I’ve already warned you many times.” 

But before he could leave, you grabbed your brother by his arms. “Don’t be mad at Heeseung, I don’t want to be the reason why you two fought — or worse, Arcanum disbanding.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you even interacted with Heeseung hyung, the same goes with him.” Jungwon swatted his arms harshly, glaring at you before going inside the house.

-

Despite that night, Jungwon’s words still managed to stop whatever you and Heeseung had. 

It was weird. For the past few weeks, the two of you are always beside each other, talking about ‘The Virgin Suicides,’ getting to know each other through oddly specific details, and planning meetups casually, followed by a museum date, deeply knowing him more and almost kissing each other — then the next thing you knew, you two were back to being strangers.

Back to normal. You could say. Band practices continued in your house, tension seeping away with you giving them small greetings before going inside your room, and the way you and Heeseung ignored each other — both knew that whatever you two had was pointless.

For the past few days, there were no more Lee Heeseung approaching you and everything. And somehow, that should ease you — reminding you that he’s unreachable. 

You almost fooled yourself, but with the way Heeseung distanced himself after defending you from Jungwon, you were quick to conclude that he still respects his friend’s decision to not go near you, just like you should with dating your brother’s friend. 

And if Heeseung had distanced himself from you, so should you too. 

But somehow, you still ended up wherever he was. Now, he’s sitting in front of you, at a noisy bar, along with your classmates who were celebrating the end of midterms exam. The table is full of alcohol, different ones — beer, cocktails, tequilas, and vodkas. All assortments that will have everyone passed out drunk before the night ends. 

You have a decent alcohol tolerance, you’re not that close with most of your classmates and you don’t even like going out but here you are, because you overheard Heeseung joining the night out.

Avoiding him was the best option, you know where it all leads if you continued talking to him — Jungwon getting furious, Arcanum might disband, and hurting your own feelings. Lee Heeseung should’ve remained unreachable, but for all the times of him noticing you, flirting and almost kissing you, you want to know more. 

There’s an itch inside you that wants to confront him, and your normal self would get flustered if you approached him first. That’s why a bit of alcohol and drunkenness might help you gain the courage that you need. 

The night was still young. You can do your confrontation later but for now, you’re spending the first few hours enjoying and laughing along with your classmates, trying your best to socialize not until a classmate of yours raises her glass. 

“Let’s play, truth or shot!” Sieun suggested. Because all of you are seated at a long table and a spin the bottle won’t suffice, everyone gets to do it. No one wants to ruin the mood, and perhaps it was because most of them are tipsy, everyone agreed to join. 

You watch as all of them get daring questions, somewhere bold to answer the questions while others choose to drink the shot. 

“Y/n, it’s your turn!” Sieun announced excitingly, clapping her hands as she stretches the shot glass towards yours which is a mixture of tequila and beer.

“Do you guys have a question for her?” she asked the crowd. 

“I have!” Lily said, obviously drunk. “Kiss, marry, fuck, Arcanum members except your younger brother of course.” 

The whole table hollered in excitement, patting Lily because the question was too good. You only laughed at their teasing but everyone was insisting that it’s a hypothetical question especially when one specific member is present at the table. 

Heeseung looks at you, eyeing every move you make as you look at the shot glass, wondering if you’ll answer it or not. 

But you were brave. It’s just a stupid drinking game, there are chances that they won’t remember it by tomorrow. “Okay hypothetically? I’ll kiss Sunghoon but on the cheeks! And it’s a platonic kiss because I don’t want to be a homewrecker!” you laughed before pondering between the two, too long that all of them are starting to get impatient.

“Girl, Heeseung is waiting for your answer!” Sumin shakes your shoulder but you only laugh as you stare at Heeseung, a smirk forming on your lips. The alcohol clouding your mind as a bright idea popped into your mind.

“I’d marry Jay, and I’d fuck Heeseung,” you answered truthfully, which earned amountful teasing and screams from your classmates, banging the table as you could only take the shot in front of you despite answering the question. 

“We need an explanation!” Lily insisted. 

“Well Jay is the most husband material out of them, and since Heeseung mentioned that he prefers being single. A one-time sex wouldn’t be bad, right Heeseung?” you fired the question towards Heeseung who only smiled in disbelief. 

“I’ll give you a good fuck then,” Heeseung answered back, completely shutting you off. You sat there frozen as Heeseung took a sip on his beer, even wiggling his eyebrows like he was teasing you, while both your classmates continued teasing both of you. 

“Since the topic is on you Lee Heeseung, would you date y/n? If you’re not such a stuck-up guy who insists that he likes being single?” Sieun interrupted, giving the shot glass in front of Heeseung. 

Heeseung looks at the shot glass for a moment, before glancing at you, an evident smirk on his lips that makes you nervous. 

“Yeah, why not?” he said casually which made the table noisy again. 

“Oh my god you two, just make out already!”

“I dare the two of you to kiss for five seconds!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you ended up together after tonight.”

The table had placed the attention on the two of you. Your classmates continued the teasing which only made you laugh while Heeseung remained in his seat, drinking his beer and completely ignoring the dumb request your classmates had. 

But it wasn't the peak of the night. More alcoholic drinks were ordered. There were some strangers going to your table, flirting with your classmates, asking for their numbers. Some were already crying as the song in the club reminded them of their ex, others went out for a smoke, while you remained at your table, doing some stupid game along with your classmates. 

Slowly, you’re losing yourself. Your eyes are getting heavier and as you glanced at your watch, it was already 3 am. The table was still full of your classmates when you stood up, almost falling if it wasn’t for your classmate quickly guiding you. 

“I need some fresh air!” you shouted at her. 

“Okay, do you want me to accompany you?” she asked. 

“No, I can do it!” you giggled, grabbing your purse before going outside the bar.

The cold night welcomed you, mixed with the smell of smoke of strangers talking and smoking on the empty road. You could only close your eyes as you sat at a pavement beside it — not caring if it’s dirty. Your head is spinning, everything is blurry but the only good thing is that you don’t feel like you’re going to vomit anytime. 

You looked at your watch and saw that it’s almost late. Your energy’s all drained out, you don’t feel socializing anymore, and you just want to slump against your bed and doze off. You have to tell your classmates that you’re leaving, but your butt is glued to the pavement, too tired to move that you could only lower your head and groan louder.

“Get up,” you looked up and there he was. A serious expression written on his face, like he was disappointed in you. 

“Hi Heeseung,” you laughed, finding the situation too funny. After the exchange earlier, this is probably the first time you and Heeseung had talked throughout the night. You wanted to ask him questions but your mind was spinning and everything was just too blurry for you. 

“Come on now, let’s get you home,” he offered, approaching you as he only brushes his hand on your shoulder.

You only hummed at his words, “home? Sure, I also want to go home now — wait, I have to go back and pay my share.”

“I already got it, and I told them we’re going home. Come on now, can you walk?” 

“Of course! Wait —” you stood up from the pavement but you almost fell, Heeseung immediately grabbed you by your waist. Guiding you as you could only lean on his touch, eyes almost close. 

Heeseung carefully guided you towards his car, opening the door of his passenger seat while you almost stumbled inside. 

“My head hurts,” you groan as soon as Heeseung gets inside. 

“Just sleep for a while,” Heeseung advised. “I’ll wake you up when we get home.”

You only nod as you close your eyes, Heeseung starts the engine and drives away from the bar. 

But fifteen minutes into the drive, you regained your consciousness, head still spinning but you try your best to think where you are right now and then realise that you’re not inside the bar anymore — nor at the pavement you were sitting on. 

Then it hit you, looking at the interior of the car as the smell of a familiar perfume made you glance at the driver. And there he was, driving you home. 

“You’re allowed to drive?” That was the first thing you said. 

“I’m not even tipsy y/n,” Heeseung said. “I can’t say the same thing to you.”

“I’m never going to do that again,” you mumbled to yourself as you could only lean on the car’s window. Watching how Heeseung drove smoothly towards the empty streets of the city. 

“Considering all the things you’ve said and done tonight, I am not surprised,” Heeseung taunted, that’s when you looked at him, a teasing smile formed on his lips. 

“You also said some weird stuff tonight,” you rebutted, words slurring out of your mouth. 

Heeseung turned to a familiar street, his smile never leaving as he parked in front of your house’s gate. “Would you put a meaning to it?”

“Why would I put a meaning to it? It’s just a dare.” you answered, dodging his question. “Like mine, it’s a hypothetical question.”

“What if I want you to put a meaning to it?” he boldly said. “What if I told you, that night when we went to the museum, I really wanted to kiss you?”

It took your drunken mind a minute to process everything. “What?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Heeseung was serious. He was looking at you with much intensity. The atmosphere became quiet, but suffocating due to the tension between the two of you. You could only blink as your eyes darted on his lips. Thick and soft, pinkish and tempting that it made you bite your lips.

“Fine, just a kiss,” you said, removing your seat belt as you faced him. There’s no harm with a short kiss right?

You watched as Heeseung unbuckled his seat belt too. Leaning towards you as he cups your cheeks and without any hesitation, crashes his lips onto yours — too fast that you weren’t prepared for it.

That’s why it didn’t take a few seconds for you to separate from him, worrying Heeseung as he looked at you, confused.

“I’m sorry —” you laughed. “This just doesn't feel real to me.”

Kissing your long-time crush? That crush of yours who you always convince yourself that you don’t stand a chance? Wanted to kiss you? And had kissed you just now? Sounds like a dream for you, something that the alcohol inside you had convinced was real. 

“Then let’s do it again,” Heeseung said before pulling once again for a kiss. This time, softly like he was being careful with you. Unknowingly, you kissed him back, along with soft whimpers escaping from your lips. Try your best to balance yourself as Heeseung’s kisses become sloppy, almost breathy.

As you pull out from his lips. The two of you only stared at each other, the tension was rising and the inside of the car started to heat. Something in his eyes screams that he wants more — hungry for you and that’s when you felt your heart beating fast. 

“Come here,” Heeseung adjusted his seat further to the back to make space for you. He pulls your body and the next thing you know, you’re on his lap while his hands are on your waist as he pulls you to a feverish kiss. 

You must be dreaming, you muttered to yourself as Heeseung’s soft, plump lips are all your lips could feel. The taste of alcohol mixing along, bitter yet sweet for you while both hands became busy with feeling each other. Your hands trailed mindlessly to his shoulders down to his chest, wanting to feel that this is real for you.

While Heeseung’s hands made a bold move by brushing it on your clothed chest. Breaking the kiss, Heeseung leans towards your left ears, murmuring sweet words while his hands work on its way to cup your soft tits, wanting more to feel the skin beneath your clothes.

“I want you,” he whispered huskily. Planting kisses on your jawline down to your neck. “Want to feel you good — fuck, your lips are so soft.”

It didn’t help that his words go straight to your core. His flirty words that made you fall more deeply into him. Soft whimpers escaping your lips as he pushed you closer towards him, making you grind on his dick underneath, clearly printing on his pants. Guiding you as you rocked your hips towards it, earning moans from Heeseung. His lips leave your neck trailing towards your opened collarbone, softly and dangerously near your cleavage.

His hands slipped underneath your shirt, and in a snap, your bra is undone and he’s playing with your breast, flickering your nipples as he grinds his hips upwards to create more friction with you.

“Fuck — feels too good,” you moaned loudly as you continued to grind against him. Panties soaking wet due to the action.

“We can stop here. I don’t want to push you further if you don’t want it.” Heeseung stated before planting a kiss on your ears, and you know very well what he meant. 

But despite his sweet gesture, Heeseung wasn’t subtle, his gleaming round eyes had a stare lust-struck on you. Pleading but wanting, and you know that you can just stop right there — afraid of the consequences. 

Having sex with Heeseung doesn’t sound that bad. He’s your crush, and everything about this is mutually agreed. This is like a dream come true to you. But having sex with your younger brother’s friend? That’s a different story. It’s forbidden, and you’re breaking the only rule you and your brother established.

Jungwon had warned you many times about Heeseung. He’s a mixed signal giver. This might be nothing for him, but for you, sex was supposed to be intimate, a gesture only lovers should do. 

But as you look at his soft, round bambi-like eyes, you just can’t help but to be lured into it. You know the moment you two kissed, you two have crossed the line — and the swirl of alcohol in your mind is eager for more.

Biting your lips, you could only brush his messy hair as you whispered to him, “Let’s go inside,” fuck it, you don’t know if it was the alcohol that’s talking, but it gave you the courage to say those words. You’re convinced that this is a one time thing, and you’ll have no regrets whatever happens tonight. 

Heeseung turns off the engine before the two of you enter your house. Empty and quiet given that it was almost 4 am. Heeseung was wary at first, knowing that Jungwon’s asleep in his room. While you're a drunken mess, laughing and almost stumbling as you remove your shoes, tugging Heeseung with you. 

“What about Jungwon —”

“He’s having a sleepover with Sunoo at Riki’s dorm.” you casually replied. “We have the house all by ourselves.”

Those words are all it takes for Heeseung to push you against the wall. Trapping you with his knees in between your thighs, almost brushing on your core that a moaning gasp escapes your lips. 

“No wonder you’re so bold,” Heeseung smirked. “We can be as loud as we want to.” 

“Make me,” you challenged, grinning as you boldly palmed his cock, even squeezing it teasingly making him groan.

“Remember what I told you earlier?” he leaned towards you, stopping an inch in front of you, nose almost touching yours as he smirked, gaze menacing. “I’ll give you a good fuck.” 

A soft chuckle escapes your lips before Heeseung leans in for a kiss which you gladly reciprocated. Pulling him closer as he grabs you by your waist, almost lifting you with your clothed cunt resting on his right thigh. Grinding against it as the kiss turned harsher, both hands eager to touch each other as it trailed on each other’s body. 

It didn’t take seconds before both bodies started to feel hot and sweaty. Heeseung shrugged off his shirt while quickly doing the same with yours — along with your bra. Both half-naked, you didn’t care that your living room might be witnessing something scandalous. Sex were supposed to be intimate for you, but now, you’re just eager to be fucked by your long-time crush. 

Heeseung lowered his head between the cave of your breast, kisses trailing around it as he sucked and flickered your left nipples with his tongue. His large hand cups the right side, fondling it and making you more sensitive than ever. 

“So pretty for me,” Heeseung grins as he continues to play with your tits, earning soft moans from you. 

Heeseung removes his touch from you for a minute and kneels on the floor. Hands holding your thighs as he pushes it for you to open it. 

You look down on him, surprised but dazed to see him kneeling in front of you. Your heart starts to beat fast when his face is just a few inches close to your clothed pussy, breathing heavily as he touches the end of your skirt.

“Wearing this flimsy thing, you never fail to surprise me huh?” he teased, lifting it up to see your laced red panties. “Fuck, keep the skirt on, pretty.” 

Heeseung kisses the insides of your thighs, slowly and soft like he was worshipping it. Every touch feels like heaven for you, his hands making their way to hold your thighs firmly as Heeseung lightly as he presses his lips on your cunt. The wet patch evident where he swiped his tongue languidly on it, knocking you out of your breath. 

You can feel your body becoming more sensitive than ever. Heeseung didn’t hesitate to pull down your panty, displaying your pussy out which only made him groan. 

“Gorgeous for me baby,” he looks up to you. Eyes darkening as he grabs your right leg, swinging it on his shoulder so that you could put a weight on him. He doesn't care that his knees are aching red on the marbled tiles, Heeseung watches as you fall for him the moment he kisses your pussy’s lips.

Gently, he wanted to taste every inch of you, his mind hazing as your musk drunkens his mind. That’s when Heeseung started to swipe his tongue on your core, making you let out a loud moan that almost echoed inside.

“We got the whole house for ourselves right? Make those lovely noises for me,” Heeseung taunted before he continued eating you out. 

It felt better than when you touched yourself. You can feel your body heating up twice, sensitive and eager for the rush of climax. You were shameless in making sounds, moans and whimpers escaping your lips, wanting Heeseung to know that you’re feeling good because of him.

Heeseung lightly grazed on your clit, making you twitch which made him gripped on your leg harsher. The heel of your feet digging his back. 

“Stay still for me baby,” he ordered, tugging your body closer to him as he started devouring you again. Tongue lapping on your lips and clit simultaneously until he decided to use his free hand to insert a finger inside you.

“Fuck —” 

“You’re feeling good baby? Moan for me, let me know how good I make you,” he inserts another finger. Circling inside your gummy walls as he continues to play your clit with his tongue, faster and harsher that your body starts to shake. 

You couldn’t help but to grab his hair for balance, unconsciously grinding your hips for more. You can feel your orgasm coming, and you were eager to chase after it. Your breathing started to become unstable, trying to hold on to the feeling of being pleasured not until Heeseung’s slender fingers curled into a specific spot that made you moan loudly. 

“That’s your spot baby? Come on don’t hold it back, cum for me,” Heeseung orders, his fingers bruising that spot that it didn’t take you seconds for you to whimper, body shaking as your orgasm came rushing to you. Heeseung savored every drop of your release. Latching on your pussy as he drinks it sloppily, juices trailing down on his chin as he continues to eat you despite reaching your orgasm.

You could only cry as you tried to remove Heeseung out of your cunt but he presses himself further, clit brushing on his nose making you whine louder as he holds your shaking hips tightly that it’ll leave a bruise. 

“Heeseung — shit, fuck —wait!” your incoherent babbling didn’t stop Heeseung. 

“I bet your ex couldn’t even make you cum,” he taunted, looking up at you. Seeing you all messy, sweating, and panting, made him want to devour you more. He wanted to hear more how you weaken in front of him.

Thumb grazing on your clit, you started to cry loudly again. Eyes shut harshly as Heeseung inserts his fingers inside you once again. Your walls trapping his fingers that Heeseung could only wonder how your tight walls would feel around his cock. The thought made him hard and aching.

“Want to make you cum more, make a mess for me baby,” Heeseung stated, lapping on your pussy once again. You could only cry in pleasure, feeling something coiling inside you which isn’t your orgasm. 

Heeseung continued abusing your pussy, tongue sucking your clit while his fingers scissored your inside, finding the spot that had made you cum. Fingers curling and pumping in a harsh manner until something gushed out of your pussy. A messy and clear liquid which Heeseung didn’t hesitate to taste. 

“Fuck,” he laughs devilishly. “Did you just fucking squirt? Shit, that was so hot. Come on, I know you can do more.”

“I don’t know —”

“Come on, do it for me again,” Heeseung encouraged, fingers continued pumping inside your pussy, until your legs started shaking once again. Another wave of orgasm hits you, squirting shamelessly in Heeseung’s fingers. 

Too fucked-out to understand anything, you didn’t notice how Heeseung carried you towards the couch, placing you down on the extended part of the long couch. 

“Told you pretty I’ll fuck real good and that’s just the start.” Heeseung stated. Hastily, he unbuckles his belt along with his pants’ zipper, pulling his pants down enough for him to release his huge dick. Red and aching to be inside your pussy. You whimper in pleasure as you stare at Heeseung who spits on his hand, stroking his dick slowly as he eyed on you lustfully. 

Heeseung pulls you closer before he flips you on the couch. Pressing you down with your stomach flat against the couch. A heat of embarrassment churned in you as you felt like a doll being manhandled by Heeseung. 

It didn’t help that Heeseung pulled your skirt upward, revealing the curve of your ass in front of him. He can feel his dick twitching just by the sight. 

“Look at you, all pretty for me,” Heeseung hums. Slapping your ass cheeks making you flinch. The pain felt good that it went right through your core. 

“Gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be shaking til morning,” he mumbled to you. He pushes your back further to flatly lay you down on your stomach, face pressed down on the couch as Heeseung lifted your hips enough for him to see your entrance.

He brushes his tip lightly on your pussy’s lips, sensitive from your previous orgasms, you couldn’t help but to crawl away from Heeseung — not until he pulls you back. 

“Still sensitive —” you stopped midway when you could feel his tip protruding your entrance. A muted cry escapes your lips as slowly Heeseung pushes it inside. 

“Don’t worry baby, I'll take care of you,” he assured, brushing the stray hairs that covered your face before planting a kiss on your temple. 

Heeseung carefully thrust inside until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You could only groan as you feel yourself full.  “God — so fucking tight, bet you’re a virgin again because you’re so tight for me.”

Slowly, he began to move, earning moans from you as your sensitive pussy started to shape Heeseung’s huge shaft. Ramming into the places that your fingers couldn’t reach. You could only leave hefty cries as your knuckles turned round from the pleasures. 

“Look how your pussy is sucking me in,” Heeseung taunted, slapping your asscheeks once again before gripping the left cheek, turning red against his hands. He could only smirk as he felt nothing but heaven thrusting inside your warm walls. — never in his life would’ve thought that he’ll be fucking his friend’s sister, the one that his friend always told him to stay away.

He’s sorry for breaking the rules, but you were just so fucking sweet and the way your pussy is clench everytime his tip abuses your cervix, he has no remorse to it anymore. All Heeseung knows is that you’re so fucking good for him. 

He pulls you upwards, your back pressed against his warm chest. Both sweats started mixing togethers as his arms wrapped around your stomach. That’s when Heeseung continued to thrust faster, eager to leave you breaking into loud cries.

“Feel how you’re taking me baby, you feel so tight that I’m bulging in you,” he whispers to you. His hands press your palms below your stomach, feeling his dick rail you made you moan more louder. Everything just feels so good and you’re just too dazed that the only thing you can feel was how Heeseung’s dick continued to slide through your g-spot. 

“Hee —” his right hand started playing with your breasts once again, flicking and pinching your hard nipples as he busied his mouth on your shoulder, leaving kisses and faint marks that had you praying that it wouldn't leave a mark. 

“More — please,” you cried as you felt your stomach coiling, your breath becoming louder and heavier as Heeseung became rougher than usual. 

“Fuck, you’re coming again baby?” he asked, removing his hands from your tits, he slid it onto your clit, rubbing circles that made you moan. “Go on, cum for me baby.”

Heeseung grabs you by your cheeks, locking you to a torrid kiss. Heavily making out as he thrusts your pussy harder. You’re too fucked-out to kiss him back, moaning on his lips as his fingers rubbed your clit harder. 

That’s when your another orgasm came, you felt your body turning into a jelly as you melted onto Heeseung, your body shaking as tears fell from your eyes. Heeseung slowly laid you back but he didn’t stop ramming his dick inside you, his thrust became faster as you could hear his breathing becoming harsh along with soft groans escaping his lips.

Heeseung chases after his orgasm, thrusting inside you a few times before pulling out, you could only whine loudly as Heeseung moans while he pumps his dick through orgasm. Cum spilling all over his hand and painting your ass and back. 

It didn’t take a few seconds when you felt Heeseung’s hands on your back, brushing your hair away as he kissed your nape softly. 

“You did good,” he whispered to you, planting another kiss on your right temple. “Just stay there okay? Let me clean up the mess.” 

You’re too tired and sticky to move. You could only hear Heeseung shuffling to put on his pants as his light footsteps made its way towards the main bathroom — you only lay there naked with nothing but your skirt as everything felt overwhelming to you. Slowly, you closed your eyes, wishing that you’ll be awake by the time Heeseung returns. 

Heeseung returns with a wet towel he found inside the bathroom. Noticing that you’ve passed out, he lets it be, knowing that you’re probably too drunk and tired. Carefully he tugs off the spoiled skirt to clean your body, wiping your cunt which made you whine softly by its touch, along with the cum on your back which he made mental notes for him to apologize to you the next time you two meet. 

He picked up the discarded clothes on the floor. Cleaning every spot you two have touched, and hopefully it won’t smell like sex and sweat by the morning. 

That’s when Heeseung decided to carry you towards your room — the first time he ever did that to a girl he had slept with. He just couldn’t bear to leave you there on the couch especially when Jungwon might walk in later in the morning. 

Heeseung places you down on your bed. Looking at your naked figure, he felt a bit ashamed to just leave you like that. Luckily, he found a decent shirt and shorts on your clothing rack. Clothing you before tugging you neatly underneath your blanket. 

He stared at you for a good minute. Seeing that you’re peaceful in your slumber, he lightly brushes off your bangs before kissing your forehead. 

“Sweet dreams y/n,” he whispered.

“Heeseung…” you mumbled before Heeseung could even open the door. 

Heeseung remained quiet, observing if you’re going to say anything. A few minutes had passed and that’s when he twisted the doorknob — seconds just for you to mumble some words again. 

“I…like you Hee…” you said. Although it was soft and almost mumble, yet, Heeseung was quick to comprehend what you meant. 

He was frozen from where he was standing, his hands remained on the doorknob. Staring at your sleeping figure, wondering if those words meant something. 

-

Your words had Heeseung thinking throughout the weekend. 

He remembers the saying, drunk words are sober thoughts. Even if you were intoxicated, he’s not just going to let your words slip away. He wonders if you truly meant those words, or just a whirlwind slip of a post-sex haze. 

But the way you said it, mumbling, like you were being careful to say it. Thoughts started clouding in his mind throughout the weekend, he barely had sleep and he wanted to blame you for putting him in that situation. 

When Monday arrived, you went to school like a normal student. A bright expression on your face as Heeseung watches you pass by him. Not even a hi or hello. His lips turned thin as he tried to act like you ignoring him didn’t hurt him a little. 

Classes went on pretty normal, but Heeseung’s mind is still afloat. Eyes darting towards you every minute, stealing glances on you. But you only had your head low, writing on your Ipad and looking only upward towards the direction of the screen in front, making Heeseung realize that he’s like a fool looking for your attention. 

Heeseung isn’t usually like this, so he wonders why he's acting like this. Heart racing, mind afloat, and it’s only your words that kept him occupied. 

But it’s right there. The answer is just right there but Heeseung doesn’t want to acknowledge it, somehow a part of him isn’t ready for it. But as he looks at you, a lingering what-if crosses his mind. A thought of committing on to something that he’s been avoiding throughout his college life.

His intuition wanted him to do it, but he’s still holding back, and Heeseung knows that the only solution to it, was you. 

That’s why the moment the professor dismissed the class, he hastily placed his things inside his bag before going towards you. 

“Y/n,” he called out, almost loudly, that some of his classmates looked at him. 

“Hey,” you smiled casually, and Heeseung swore that it almost knocked the breath out of him. Have you always had this effect on him? Why did he just realise it right now? 

“Can we talk?” he asked, and saw your eyes surprised by his words. 

“Sure,” you only nod before the two of you leave the room, going to a small corner by the hallway. 

“About what you said that night,” Heeseung asked. “Is it true?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Did I say something? I barely remember anything even the…you know.”

Heeseung felt like his world crashed. Of course. You’re too drunk to remember everything. Even what you two did, you barely remember, and that made him scoff in disbelief. 

“Did I say something weird or?” you asked nervously. 

“You said you like me y/n,” Heeseung said in a serious tone. “Now tell me if it’s true.”

Heeseung watches your eyes widen in realization. A breathy curse slipped out of your mouth. That’s when he knew — that’s when his heart also knew.

“Listen y/n, it’s okay, I also —”

“Heeseung, you’re Jungwon’s friend,” you interrupted. “I can’t date you, I really — look, I like you, yes that’s true. But I care more about your friendship with Jungwon, and whatever happened that night. That’s just it, but please don’t tell Jungwon. He’ll get angry at you too. I hope you understand that.” 

Heeseung blinks. Looking at your pleading expression, that’s when it hit him that it’s not that Jungwon is caging you, but it’s the fact that your love for your younger brother is stronger than your romantic feelings for him. 

You two know that what you did was wrong. Both lines were crossed, and rules were broken. Jungwon trusted him not to go after you, and so do you. It’ll not only ruin friendship but Arcanum. Heeseung knows that you know how much Arcanum means to Jungwon, and it might even result in him leaving the band. 

And seeing how you’re willing to set everything aside for Jungwon, Heeseung couldn’t do anything but to admire you — even if it means he will not continue his confession to you. 

“Plus, you enjoy being single right?” you said lightheartedly, trying to ease the atmosphere. That’s when it slipped into Heeseung. 

An awkward laugh escapes his lips. Ironic because he was planning to throw it away for you, but talking about wrong timing because you got him first. “Right — you’re right. No worries y/n, I won’t tell Jungwon.”

You gave him a smile, patting his shoulders as you mumbled your thanks before leaving him there alone. Watching you walk away, Heeseung could only lower his head as he walked towards the opposite direction — not knowing that you turned your head towards him once again. 

That should be it. In the end, the two of you are some ways forbidden because of Jungwon. You’re right. Heeseung knows that he prefers being single. Right? Maybe what he’s feeling right now is just a temporary attachment to you because you two had sex, plus your confession caughting him off-guard. It’ll pass. Hopefully, for him, it’ll pass. 

But it didn’t help that a few days after you two had a talk, Heeseung caught you together with Jake. 

He knows that you two are orgmates. Coincidentally, you’re Jake’s executive assistant. Heeseung shouldn’t give meaning to it, especially when Jake’s not exempted from Jungwon's rule. 

It shouldn’t bother him. Who is he even anyway? An obvious frown forming on his lips when he saw your instagram story with Jake, you two went to eat k-bbq alone. One would think that you two are actually dating. It’s the way that you’re leaning towards Jake who’s smiling widely, holding the barbecue tong. It's cute, but all Heeseung could feel was annoyance.

Heeseung remembered your conversation with him. Out of all Jungwon’s friends, Jake’s your choice to date. And seeing you two together, Heeseung doesn’t know why but there’s a strange feeling growing inside him. Something ugly because why would he feel that to you? Someone who he’s not allowed to date, and to Jake, who is a close friend of his.

He shouldn’t feel that bubbling jealousy brewing inside but it didn’t help that there are days where Heeseung sees Jake waiting outside the department building. Jake would even smile and wave at him who only gives him a small smile back. Then, he watches you pass by him, going straight towards Jake who only ruffled your hair while you punched his shoulders lightly. 

Sweet. Way too sweet. Heeseung almost wanted to report you two to the disciplinary officer for pda. But as he watches the two of you walk away while laughing, leaving him alone there standing like a fool, that bubbling feeling continues to grow no matter how hard he concealed it. 

It didn’t help either that when they went to your place to practice, he immediately noticed a familiar pair of shoes by the doorway.

“Isn’t that Jake hyung’s shoes?” Riki pointed out. 

“Oh right, he told me he’ll be here early, he’s with noona,” Jungwon explained nonchalantly as he removed his shoes. 

“How come you’re not wary of Jake being too close with y/n?” Sunghoon asked, but there’s a taunting tone in his words. 

“They’re orgmates, y/n noona directly reports to Jake hyung. I trust Jake hyung to not break the rule.” and Heeseung is pretty sure that Jungwon gave him a side eye when he said that.

“So you don’t trust us?” Jay teases.

“I didn’t say that,” the younger one went inside first, while Jay and Sunghoon only laughed at the conversation.

As the rest of them entered the living room, they saw you and Jake by the couch. Heeseung raises an eyebrow, seeing you two together, by the couch — where you and Heeseung fucked, had his jaw tightening. Finding it funny how you pretend that everything’s normal. 

Files sprawled all over the coffee table along with some half-full iced coffees and a box of donuts. Jake is seated on the floor, glasses on top of his head with his expression as serious as always. While you’re seated on the couch, still wearing your uniform with your laptop on your lap, typing some documents needed. 

“Hi guys!” you greeted them first, with Jake following after.

“Y/n noona! I miss you!” Sunoo shouted with glee, sitting beside you and hugging you sideways. As always, you reciprocate the younger’s action. 

Heeseung lightly scoffs at how Sunoo can be so close to you, even hugging you while Jungwon doesn’t bat an eye on it. 

“I miss you too Noo, how’s part-timing at The Rabbit Hole?” you asked, shifting your seat to face the sophomore.

“Tiring, the new part-timer was so lazy! I have to multitask with everything,” Sunoo sulks, even pouting as he leans on your shoulder, glancing at your laptop’s screen. “What are you doing?”

“Some inquiries and grievances from students and incoming freshmen. Others wanted to transfer programs and also, student assistant job opening,” you answered before scrolling through your file. 

“Soobin hyung wanted us to finish it before the end of the school so that we don’t have to worry about the turnover for the next term,” Jake added, letting out a deep sigh as he grabbed the mountful of papers in front of him. 

“Well, we’re not disturbing you guys right? We’re going to start our practice,” Sunghoon asked, setting up in the huge empty space in front of them. 

“We can move to the dining room, so that it wouldn’t be too loud — are you okay with it?” Jake suggested, glancing at you who only nodded. 

“That would be better, we can continue there,” you answered, knowing that you’re still wary around Heeseung. 

As Arcanum set up, you and Jake moved your things on the dining table. From there, you can still hear Arcanum practicing, but with the divider and displays, it’s enough to cover you and Jake for privacy and muffle the sound a little. 

You and Jake sat together to continue your reports. Heeseung could only glance at the two of you. Seeing how close you two are, both heads are almost touching. If Jungwon had seen it, he would probably be throwing knives now. But Jungwon was too busy practicing the beat on his drums, and instead of knives, Heeseung’s darkening glare is what’s putting a hole on you and Jake.

He hated how close you and Jake are. He hated how he could hear your soft laughter just by looking at you — and you weren’t looking at him, you’re looking at Jake who’s probably cracking some jokes. He couldn’t believe that for the past few weeks, the two of you were together, but now, you’re with somebody else. 

And it’s not just somebody else. It’s Jake. A friend of his, the person you’ll hypothetically date if Jungwon’s rules doesn’t exist. The guy that has more chances of dating you than him —

“Heeseung!” A light kick on the shin snapped Heeseung out of reality, turning to his left where Jay looked at him confused. 

“We’re good to go, should we start now?” Jay asked, and that’s when Heeseung realized that he’s been staring for too long. 

“Oh — yeah, we’ll start in three,” Heeseung replied, signaling them with a countdown.

Riki and Sunoo cheered for Arcanum, sitting on the couch comfortably while Heeseung tried to focus, closing his eyes as he started to strum his guitar. 

“Your type of mind, so hard to find,” he sang, cold yet desperate like he was yearning for someone. A soft yet heartbreaking song to start their practice. He can hear Sunoo’s gasp while Riki lets out a whistle. 

Heeseung sings the song with feelings, something about the way he sings a song captivates their audience. But Riki and Sunoo were quick to notice how Heeseung’s eyes kept on looking to his left — by the dining room where you and Jake were seated.

Both sophomores looked at each other, a deciphering stare before glancing back at Heeseung whose eyes are still glued to you. It all circled back to them, realizing that there’s something their friend is hiding. 

With the way he sings, it doesn't sound like he’s just covering the song, it felt like every word, every lyric came straight from his heart. And looking at you, they know that he’s dedicating it to you.

As they finished the song, they were quick to start for another song. A low strum on Jay’s electric guitar — different from the first song. 

“I wanna be your vacuum cleaner. Breathing in your dust,” Heeseung sang in a low tone.

“Woah, Heeseung hyung’s good,” Sunoo mumbled. 

“It’s like he’s captivating someone under his spell,” Riki added, glancing at Sunoo who only nodded, knowing what he meant as the two watched as Heeseung sang. His head turned to his left once again.

“Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours,” Staring darkly, as he holds onto the mic stand, head turned towards your direction as he continues the song. Dark and tempting like the original. 

As the song finished, the band had a short break. Jay looks at Heeseung, a teasing smirk evident on his lips. 

“Seems like your audience is somewhere else,” Jay teasingly said. 

“Shut up Jay,” Heeseung brushes it off, but it was evident that he immediately shifted towards your direction once again. Like he was hoping that you’ll turn around. 

But not even a spare glance was given to them throughout the whole practice. By the time Arcanum finished their practice, so did you and Jake with your reports. Food arrived a few minutes later and the eight of you spent dinner in the living room. 

“Can you hear their practice in the dining room?” Riki asked. 

“Yeah, but it’s a bit muffled so it wasn’t distracting us, don’t worry,” Jake answered casually, not noticing how Riki and Sunoo snickered at each other. 

“You guys seem to be too busy with your reports, that you guys weren’t distracted by Heeseung hyung’s singing,” Sunoo added, tone hinted in a teasing manner. 

“Well, Jake insisted on finishing it tonight, and I heard you guys are drinking after dinner,” you laughed, not being able to catch the sophomore’s tone.

“And we did, because y/n is such a great assistant,” Jake compliments, making the other guys holler in teasing. 

“Jungwon, did you hear that?” Sunghoon nudged Jungwon who got confused immediately. 

“Hey Jake, don’t forget Jungwon’s rule,” Jay added, earning laughter in the living room — that including you and Jake. 

“I only said she’s a great assistant! Is it bad to compliment her?” Jake defensively replied.

Meanwhile Heeseung could only roll his eyes discreetly as he continued stuffing himself with rice. From there, Jungwon chuckles — a different reaction from his usual get-go wherein he’ll be pissed the moment they got linked to you. 

“Shut up hyungs,” Jungwon could only say. “By the way, you’re not going to join us noona?”

“I think I’m going to avoid drinking from now on,” you answered, knowing that the last time you drank, disaster happened. 

You could hear Heeseung clearing his throat, but you chose to ignore it and took the last bite on your food. Standing up from your seat before thanking them for the dinner, and reminding Jungwon to clean up the mess after. 

It was nine in the evening when you decided to call it a night, the remaining of them stayed in the living room with some alcohol to drink the night away. You’ve already known that they’re going to stay overnight — and probably will wake up by lunch. 

Saying goodbye to them, even drinking one shot because they insist, you went to your room and had your alone time. 

After taking a shower and changing into your sleeping clothes, you grabbed your laptop to do some last minute write-ups. Reviewing every page you’ve written, and then closing the tab to watch some youtube videos. 

You don’t know what’s going on downstairs. You sometimes hear their loud laughter and teasing, it was muffled enough for you not to be disturbed, and as the night deepens, the noise downstairs slowly becomes quiet. 

That’s when you decided to go to sleep. Closing your laptop, and locking your door. You turned on your nightshade and closed your bedroom’s light. As you nestled underneath your blanket, you closed your eyes, immersing yourself with the silence.

But it didn’t help you relax at all, you can feel your heart beating fast and as you open your eyes, that’s when it hits you that you’re not sleepy yet. 

Thoughts running inside your mind that whenever you close your eyes, and shuffle through different positions, you just can’t bear to sleep. You placed your hand on your chest, feeling your heart still palpitating and you’re blaming it on the coffee you bought. 

Frustratedly, you sat up to grab your phone, noticing that it’s already past one am. 

You don’t know what to do, so you scrolled through your social media in hopes that sleep might knock you down. But minutes turned into an hour and you became frustrated furthermore. 

Your frustration was interrupted when a knock on the door startled you. You let out a sigh because you already told Jungwon that he doesn't have to knock on your room if he’s going to inform you that his friends’ are going home. 

But instead of your younger brother, your eyes widened when it was Heeseung who’s in front of your room.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, whispering. “You can’t be here!”

“Don’t worry, they’re either passed-out drunk or deeply asleep,” Heeseung laughs, the smell of alcohol reeking on his breath as he leaned on your door frame. 

“What do you even want, Heeseung?” you asked, crossing your arms at him.

But Heeseung looks at you drowsily, “you’re one of a kind, you know that?”

You didn’t say a word. Slowly, he enters your room, making you step backward. Quietly, you watch him close the door even locking it — and you let him be. You didn’t stop him nor pushed him away. You remained from where you were standing, because deep inside, you wanted to know why Heeseung suddenly barged into your room in the middle of the night. 

“I’m still thinking about that night, about us, everything about us y/n — you’re driving me crazy you know that?” you can hear the frustration dripping on his tone. 

“Heeseung, you’re drunk.” you answered instead. 

Heeseung only laughs at your words. “Oh no sweetheart, I didn’t even drink that much. So I know damn well what I’m saying, and since you’re sober and completely awake, I’m confident that you won’t run away from me anymore.” 

You didn’t say a word. Heeseung gives you a smile. The boyish sweet smile that tugs your heart.

“After you told me that you like me, even though you were drunk, it made me realize something,” Heeseung became quiet for a second. “I really thought about it. Even convincing myself that being single is fun, but fuck it, maybe I prefer being with you.”

It wasn’t a direct confession, but you know what he was trying to say. You stopped your tracks, softly glancing at him who slackens his jaw. 

“I was ready to tell you that but you shut me off first, because you know how important Arcanum was, and you don’t want to ruin my friendship with Jungwon.” Heeseung explained, and that’s when it hits you. That talk you two had, he was supposed to say something but you cut him off. 

“And I respected that y/n — that even made me admire you more. You were willing to set aside your feelings for Jungwon. I even convinced myself that maybe the single life is for me,” Heeseung heaves out a sigh. Brushing his hair before glancing at you, his eyes darkening. 

“Really, I tried my best to respect your decision, but seeing you with Jake? What was that? Are you playing with me?” 

“Heeseung —”

But Heeseung lets out a mocking laughter, finding himself stupid for accusing you of that. “Of course you’re not, I’m just overthinking and who am I even to overthink? I’m just your brother’s friend.”

Silence. For a moment, no one said a word. Heeseung approaches you darkly, making you step backward until you hit the edge of your bed, clumsily making you sit at it. Heeseung boldly hovers over you, both arms trapping you as he leans closer to you, face an inch close to you. 

“But maybe I don’t want to be seen as your brother’s friend anymore. I want to be yours instead, I want to be your boyfriend.” he whispered to you, surprising you with the statement that your eyes could only widen. 

“And I don’t care about Jungwon anymore, he’ll have to fucking live with that fact.” He stated. Heeseung doesn’t care about the consequences anymore. All he wants is you, and if it means ruining friendship, he’ll be willing to fight for your relationship with him.

“Heeseung —”

“Don’t think about Jungwon anymore y/n, I like you — hell, I think I’m in love with you. I want to be yours. Just tell me that you want this too.” Heeseung pleaded, and you just couldn’t believe it. Heeseung begging for your love? You know that this is too good to be true — too good that it’s forbidden at the same time. But as you look at Heeseung’s soft, round bambi eyes, you just couldn’t help but to melt for him.

“I just never thought that you’ll be within my reach.” you confessed, hands cupping his cheeks. “Heeseung, I’ve liked you since we were freshman, but you’re just so unreachable for me.”

“Unreachable? y/n, you’re the unreachable one, you’re basically locked in your younger brother’s rule.”

“Not what I meant but, everything just feels so surreal for me, everything about us — is this even real?” your mind is still clouded, but your heart was racing rapidly. It’s celebrating inside. There were fireworks, butterflies, any fluttering feeling that you can feel to convince you that Heeseung, the guy that you’ve been yearning for years, likes you back. 

“I’ll make it real for you then,” Heeseung leans closer, locking you to a kiss. Immediate and hungry, feeling his soft lips against yours made your knees weak, the fluttering feeling becoming too good that your heart is going to burst at that moment. Tasting the alcohol on his tongue as it swipes it lightly on your lower lips. Moaning against your lips as he bites onto your bottom lip harshly that his teeth scratches a wound to it. 

You broke from the kiss, catching your breath as you tasted the blood on your lips, but Heeseung grabs your face, pulling you for another kiss. Feverish as he sucks the blood oozing from your lips, making you whine as his tongue laps on the wound. 

“You were pretty drunk that night we did it, how about I recreate it for you? Show you that I mean everything?” he swore the moment you two broke the kiss once again. 

Gently, he pushes you down to your bed, crawling over you and crashing his lips on yours again. But it’s softer this time, gentle like he’s trying to memorize your lips. 

He started peppering you with kisses, full of love as he began lowering his lips on your neck. His lips raveling every skin as he planted marks near your collarbone. One, two, three — until every skin around your neck and chest is full of marks. Heeseung stands up to see his art. Lust-struck stare as he looks at you, teary-eyed and swollen, wounded lips. His heart swells with pride because you’re his to keep. 

“God, look at you gorgeous,” he whispered, as he started to unbutton his school uniform. You followed his actions as you sat up from your bed, taking off the thin, old shirt revealing your naked chest underneath. 

“Want you,” you told him, round, innocent-like eyes staring at him as you boldly palmed the print of his cock underneath the slacks. 

“Go on,” he gestured, giving you a kiss on top of your head as you unzipped his slacks, pulling it down along with his boxers. 

Heeseung’s cock sprang free. Your eyes wide at how it’s huge despite being soft. Remembering how it pounded into your holes. Feeling your core pulsing at the sight, wanting for it to be inside you but your mind wants to return the favor. You wanted to pleasure Heeseung like what he did to you. 

You started by giving its head soft kitten kisses. Glancing at Heeseung who only nods, hands finding its way towards your hair, holding it like a makeshift ponytail which was your approval. Your tongue started to find its way. Swirling on the tip, salivating every inch it can reach until you gathered enough saliva to drool on his almost hardening cock.

You hold his cock in a soft grip, stroking it as your hand lubricates it with your drool. Looking up at Heeseung with lust-drunken eyes before slowly sinking your mouth on his cock, and Heeseung could only throw his head out of pleasure. A breathy moan escaped his lips as you started bobbing in and out of his cock. 

Adjusting to its size, you started slow and gentle, just enough to make him hard. Heeseung’s grip on your hair started to tug, unconsciously pushing your head which made you fasten your pace. Cheeks hollow as your lips sucked him. Tongue trailing along with it, licking its underside. 

“Fuck just like that, a pretty girl is sucking me hard,” Heeseung moans as his dick twitch inside your warm mouth. Knowing that it’s been so long since a girl has given him a head, Heeseung would’ve never thought that it’ll end him being sensitive. 

You continued bobbing your head, fast and hard leaving Heeseung moaning and whining as he unconsciously bucked his hips towards you. The tip of his dick hitting your throat, making you gag by the action but that didn’t stop you, it only had your cunt throbbing.

“You can be rough with me,” you said as you pulled away from him, something inside you awakened. Teary-eyes looking up at him, and Heeseung swore that you even looked prettier than ever. 

“You sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” Heeseung asked with a worried tone. 

You only roll your eyes, “You’re acting like you weren’t rough that night.” you said before you sucked him once again.

“I’m not holding back then,” he started by thrusting his hips inside your mouth, earning another choking gag from you. “You’re so warm, your pretty little mouth is so tight for me too.”

Both hands find its way on your head, holding it steady as he started to fuck your mouth. You could only hold onto his hips for balance as his thrust became fast and harsh that drool started to trail down your chin. 

“You feel — fuck,” Heeseung moans. “So good to me — can’t believe you’re mine.” the sounds Heeseung made had you throbbing more than ever. Your eyes are pooled with tears as his bulging head continues to abuse your throat.

“Want you to be inside you,” Heeseung breathes, mercilessly pounding inside you before pulling his dick out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. 

“Want to come inside you,” Heeseung drunkenly said. Grabbing your chin and wiping the drool away before sloppily giving you a kiss. “Ride me baby, want to see a pretty girl on top of me.”

You hastily remove the rest of your pajamas as Heeseung climbs over your bed, resting on the headboard as he straddles you to his lap. Your wet pussy on top of his dick, grinding on it while both hands are on your waist. 

Raising your hips a little, you grabbed Heeseung’ cock to align it on your entrance, whimpering as his bulging tip kissed your pussy’s lips before you slowly sink down, feeling every inch of his dick open your pussy, moaning in pleasure until he’s fully sheathed. 

“Heeseung — fuck,” you moaned as you started bouncing up and down. Your walls wet and warm, as his cock slides inside you, feeling him deeper than before. Every inch and veins of his dick is all you can feel as his head continues to kiss your cervix, knocking you out of breath everytime it happens. 

Heeseung could only moan loudly as he watched you ride him. You had your head thrown back as your tits bounced in front of him. He could get off just by watching you. His pretty girl, riding his dick, whining loudly as you continued to call his name — not caring about whether Jungwon or his other friends might hear you. 

You let out a yelp when Heeseung smacks your ass cheeks, his smirk widening as he meets you thrust, bucking his hips upwards. Vulgar sounds and body slapping against each other echoed around the room as the two of you continued to drown into each other’s pleasure. 

Heeseung adjusted his position, sitting up and pulling you closer to him. Stopping your movement when you feel him wraps his arms around you. Coming face to face with you, Heeseung could only smile as he swiped your hair that was stuck on your face, making you fawn a smile. 

“Can’t believe your mine,” he said excitedly, like he was a high school kid, making you laugh before cupping his face, cheeks squeezing which delighted you more. 

“I’m yours Hee,” you mumbled, and you can’t believe that those words came out from your mouth. 

Heeseung pulled you to a loving kiss, before he started thrusting inside. With him continuing your movement, you remove yourself from him before resting your head on his shoulder as your hands find their way on his back. Nails scratching as the pleasure became too intense to you.

Loud moans and whimpers continued to fill the room. You cried to his ears as your nails pressed harder on his back. Tears falling away from your eyes as Heeseung felt you twitch above him, slowly not being able to bounce on him as your toes started curling. 

“You want to cum pretty girl?” he whispered to you, and you could only nod feverishly, making Heeseung thrust harder than before, adjusting his pace until his cocks slid into your most sensitive spot. 

“Heeseung — ah!” you choke out a moan as your orgasm came in just a glimpse. Your body was shaking, holding Heeseung tightly while his thrust became faster, chasing after his orgasm, which made you cry harder.

“Hee — inside” you cried. “Inside please — ugh, want to feel you.”

Fuck. Heeseung curses internally. You just can’t say that and expect him to act rationally. With the way your pussy’s sucking him in had his dick twitching. Heavy groans and whimpers escaping his lips as he continued to fuck your overly sensitive inside. 

In a minute, Heeseung groans loudly as he spills his warm seeds inside you, making you moan in pleasure, as he continues to thrust you until he’s too tired to move. 

For a moment, none of you moved, Heeseung held you tightly as he caught his breath. His dick still inside yours, twitching and sensitive. So warm for him that he just wanted to be inside you. Heeseung lays down in bed along with you. Everything was sticky and warm, but you two didn’t care. The only thing you can feel was Heeseung’s warmth and the faint beating of his chest.

“What now?” you asked, clarity finally getting inside your senses. 

“Well —” Heeseung groans as your hips unconsciously move. “Don’t move, you’re making me hard.”

But you smile at him evilly, grinding at him who let out a soft moan.

“Stop that — fuck.”

“Or what?” 

Heeseung glares at you. And before you could say another word, he grabs you by your waist and pushes you down with your back hitting the mattress. Heeseung hovers over you as he does an experimental thrust inside you, making you whine. 

“You’re going to pay for this,” Heeseung swore, and you can only chuckle as you feel him hardening inside you. 

“I wouldn’t mind that,” you said, hands finding the back of his hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

Surely, it was a long night for the two of you. 

-

You stared at Heeseung’s sleeping figure. Peaceful and gentle as your hands reached for it, trailing on his messy hair. The way his cheeks are squeezed against the pillow, soft lips pouting in default. Heeseung looks so pretty and you can’t believe that this is the first thing you saw the moment you open your eyes. 

You don’t know what time it is. All you know is that it’s morning. The sun is up, and the spring breeze passes through your window’s curtain. Underneath the sheets were your naked bodies, warm and sticky, yet intimate to feel.

It’s been a few minutes since you woke up, and unlike the last time when you woke up alone, Heeseung is right next to you. You were staring at him for so long that you know that you’ll look like a creep, but it’s the morning haze that has your mind still unwinding everything that happened. That’s why it’s still not sinking into you that Heeseung is sleeping beside you. 

It’s as if he felt your gaze, Heeseung’s lips curved into a smile. Your eyes widened when you felt his arms pulling you towards him, head resting on his chest as you two bathed in the warm sunlight passing through the window. 

“You’re going to melt me with your stare,” Heeseung mumbled. 

“Sorry, I just — haven’t sinked in everything,” you replied. 

Heeseung softly chuckles, a soft kiss planting on top of your head as he caresses your hair, “you want to do it again?”

“We had enough Hee!” you said immediately, punching his chest which only made him laugh.

“I’m just kidding,” he said, resting his chin underneath your head. 

Silence faltered the room. Only your soft breathing can be heard, Heeseung’s hands continue to caress your hair while as you rest on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat — faster than usual, and you wonder if it’s because of you. 

“We should go on a date,” Heeseung suggested. “Our first official date as a couple, what do you think?”

“That would be nice,” you whispered. 

“Should we do it later? It’s a Saturday, do you want to go out or stay indoors? Oh wait — do you want to go to other museums? Oh maybe we should try those painting sessions with wine.”

You only laughed at his words. “You’re taking this seriously.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I am so happy that you’re my girlfriend now, we’re going to do everything together~”

“That has a nice ring on it boyfriend,” you look at him before giving a quick kiss. “How about we decide on that later? For now, let’s just stay like this for a while.” 

Heeseung nods, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer to his touch. The solemn silence hovering as both hearts hold each other dearly. Everything feels like a dream. You felt peaceful not until a loud banging on the door startled you. That’s when you remember —

“Heeseung hyung! I know you’re in there!” you scrambled from your position as a familiar voice boomed outside your room, but Heeseung remained unfazed. 

“Jungwon might see us!” you panicked, trying to look for your clothes on the floor. 

“He’ll live,” Heeseung drowsily said, grabbing you and trapping you in his arms. “Let’s just rest here for a while.”

“Heeseung! Can we at least get dressed!?” you shouted, glancing at the door wherein any minute now, your younger brother will barge in. 

But a teasing smile formed on your boyfriend’s lips, kissing the end of your nose as he snuggled you closer like you’re his teddy bear. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Heeseung hyung! You’re dead to me — what the fuck!?” The banging stopped, but you can hear shouting and cursings from the outside, along with Sunghoon’s loud laughter followed by a light scowling from Sunoo. 

“Don’t worry about Jungwon! But you owe us one, asshole!” Jay shouted through the door. 

“Holy fucking shit, he’s like a wild cat,” Jake laughs. 

“What the hell, Jungwon hyung scratched me!” Riki shouted.

You don’t know what’s happening outside, they’re probably tackling your younger brother. You can hear Heeseung snickering as he lightly sways you, assuring you that everything will be alright. You glance at him, he has a soft smile on his lips making you melt. Slowly, your worries disappear as you feel safer in Heeseung’s hold. 

-

Epilogue.

“Decelis are you ready!?” Heeseung shouted through the mic. 

School has just ended. Fortunately, you’ve passed the second semester with ease. Now, you’re anticipating the two month vacation before senior year arrives. Feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness because next year is going to be your last year in college.

But for now, you’re with the thousands of students, at Decelis University’s open field. It’s the annual year-end concert. A celebration for the success of the end of an academic year. Decelis typically invite bands and singers to perform — of course, Arcanum was part of the line-up. 

You screamed along Karina and Yunah as Jay opened the performance with a one-minute guitar solo, shouting “Are you ready to rock!?” causing everyone to scream louder. You could only fawn over the boy who’s rocking the stage while your boyfriend ran around the stage, dancing freestyle along the beat. 

You watched as Heeseung returned to the center, placing the mic on the stand before he started singing It’s not living (If it’s not with you) by The 1975. His voice filled the whole place as cheers became loud the moment he sang the first line. 

“That’s my boyfriend!” you shouted, making Yunah and Karina tackle you teasingly. 

“We get it! Gosh, you won this one, y/n,” Karina teased. 

“You managed to bag the most wanted guy in Decelis, I think we need tips from you,” Yunah added. 

“I think you should stop playing with fire, and just tell him what you feel instead,” you replied to Yunah who only rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll just die instead,” she nonchalantly replied. Glancing back at the led screen wherein they’re showing Jungwon who’s too immersed with playing the drums. 

After the first song, Sunghoon immediately shifted the vibe by playing a soft intro of a familiar song. Heeseung smiles as he places his hand on the mic stand. 

“We’re going to change the vibe from here, any lovers around here?” and he boldly raised his hands, earning screams from the crowd. A few students raising their hands while single people are booing jokingly. 

The smile on Heeseung’s lips turned wider as he feels along with the song, “Feel like sun on my skin

So this is love, I know it is.”

You only stood there, watching as Heeseung continued singing. Even dancing along with it, pretending like the mic stand is his partner. Swinging it lightly as he turned his attention towards the crowd once again. A smirk on his lips as he winks flirtily. 

“Gosh, and he wonders why hundreds of girls are head over heels to him,” you stated. 

“And sadly, he’s not available anymore!” Karina shouted. “Seriously, we need a crowning moment for you.”

Your relationship with Heeseung wasn’t that officially launched. It’s not that you two decided to keep it secret, but you two don't see the need to officially launch it. Let people wonder. You two menacingly agreed. Only your close friends knew about you two being a couple. 

Of course, some small public displays of affection weren’t subtle like the way you two are now seated together in the classroom, or some people seeing Heeseung carrying your bag. — it’s safe to say that people are quick to conclude that you two have something going on. If it’s serious or not, that’s what they don’t know. 

“Thank you so much Decelis University for having us here. We are really happy to perform in front of you guys, your energy gives us energy, but sadly we only have one last song left,” Heeseung stated after finishing another song, earning a few “awww” and “noooo” from the crowd, even chanting for one more song. 

“For the last song, this one is our very first composed song. We dedicated our time in composing and writing the lyrics, and this is the first time we will be performing it. So hopefully, you guys will love it.” Heeseung explained, his smile turning wide like he was proud to introduce the song.

“More like you wrote the lyrics,” Jay pointed out, which made the crowd scream. “The things love do, am I right?” and that made the crowd scream louder. 

Heeseung only laughs, he didn’t even try to ignore it at all. “Are you ready for a serenade, Decelis?”

For a moment, there was silence. Shortly, a few strums from Heeseung’s guitar escape as he softly hums to the mic. His eyes closed like he’s feeling along with the song. 

He started the verse with a soft tone. Dearly like he’s dedicating the song to someone. You’re not slow to pick up the lyrics of the song. It meant something and that’s when you can feel your heart start beating fast. You only stood there, frozen as you watched your boyfriend sing in front of a thousands of crowd. 

“I want you to know, I love you the most, I'll always be there right by your side,” Heeseung sings, opening his eyes and even though you’re far from the stage, and even if you’re just watching him from the screen, he smiles widely like he’s staring at you. 

“'Cause baby, you're always in my mind, just give me your forever.” You can feel your heart tugging. It swells with joy as you watch your boyfriend sing his love for you in front of a crowd. His heavenly voice swooning every student, especially you. He continued singing, mesmerizing the crowd with how he sang it — like he’s swearing his vows for you. 

“Just give me your forever.” he sang one last time before taking a bow. 

Cheers started to become louder. Continuous screams from the student as they started chanting Arcanum’s name. Heeseung could only smile as he gestured to his friends to take the center for a short photo time and final goodbye. 

It didn’t sinked into you that Arcanum just finished their set. It was until Karina and Yunah pulled you to go towards the department building that serves as a backstage area because you promised Heeseung that you’ll be meeting them afterwards. 

You found them in one of the classrooms, laughing as they stuffed themselves with snacks prepared by the university. As soon as Heeseung sees you, his smile widens as he walks towards you before pulling you to a hug, even carrying you and twirling you like you two are the only people in the room.

“Okay that’s enough, give respect to single people here!” Jay shouted but his words slipped out of your ears when Heeseung pulled you for a kiss, soft and eager, earning mixed reactions from the people inside. 

“I can’t believe I’ll be seeing this for the rest of my life,” Jungwon cringed. 

“You’ll live,” Yunah taunted, sticking her tongue out to the drummer who only rolled his eyes. 

“The song —” you breathe the moment you two broke the kiss, “you wrote the lyrics?”

“You like it?” Heeseung asked, thumb grazing your cheeks.

“I love it! It’s beautiful,” you smiled. 

“It’s for you.” 

That’s when you took a step back, eyes wide but filled with happiness as you could only smile wider, squishing your boyfriend’s soft cheeks which is a form of endearment for you. 

“I can’t believe you.” you giggled.

“Did you even hear what Jay said?” Heeseung mumbled, grabbing your cheeks the same way, before planting a kiss on your lips one more time. 

“Of course,” you grinned. “Just want to hear it from you.”

“Stop that you guys! Or we’ll have to report you for pda!” Karina shouted, along with the others throwing tissues and some light stuff which you two avoided — even Jungwon didn’t hesitate to throw his drumsticks at the two of you. 

But the two of you only laughed at their antics. Heeseung gives you a sweet kiss on your temples, as he puts his arms around your shoulders, holding you dearly.

And as you glance at him, you could only rest your head on his shoulder, fiddling with his hands resting on your shoulder — a way for you to feel that Heeseung is yours, at arms length on your reach. 

[ambi01]

HATE TO HAVE YOU p.js

synopsis ⤑ You were here for work. That was it. You didn’t even like hockey players. They were too raunchy, too noisy, just too much. You were a put your head down and listen to classical music through your headphones, type of girl. Your brother was a hockey player, your dad as well. All you wanted to do was help people, not fall in love with clients that were off limits. Clients who were the captain of the hockey team your dad coached. No, he was very much off limits and he would most certainly hate to have you. 

pairings ⤑ hockey player!jay x coaches daughter!reader word count ⤑ 34k

warnings ⤑ smut, oral (m. rec.), forbidden romance, mentions of hockey injuries, angst, parental angst, kinda yearning jay???

crossing the line masterlist here.

a note from rain; it's done. crossing the line is finally finished, and the last one this one is the longest. Honestly, my favorite one is Sunghoon's but this one is i will hold dear to me since it is the conclusion. Thank you to everyone who has read and loved crossing the line as much as i have. ily

The diner always smelled like old coffee and fried memories. Grease clung to the air like a second skin, settling into the cushions of red vinyl booths and the strands of your hair no matter how tightly you kept your hood drawn. Outside, Seoul had cracked open into winter’s throat, grey light pressing through the glass like fogged breath on a mirror, leaving halos around the fluorescent signage. You sat in a corner booth by the window, jacket still zipped, hands tucked into your sleeves like you could hide your disappointment in the folds of fabric. The waitress didn’t ask for your order; she knew you. You’d been here before, many times before, waiting for a man who never came. So she brought your tea without a word and left it there to steep and grow cold. You were not surprised.

No, this sort of thing had long ago stopped being shocking. You were just…tired. Tired in the way only daughters of distant fathers could be, tired in your bones, your breath, your blood. You stirred your tea absentmindedly, watching the bag swirl like a limp ghost tethered to nothing. Your phone sat face-up beside the cup, silent and useless, save for the three unanswered texts and one call that had gone straight to voicemail. You didn’t leave a message. What was the point? If Coach Bennett cared to call you back, he would. But he never did, not when you scraped your knees learning to ride a bike, not when you stood alone at your middle school science fair, not when you left home for university. Hockey always came first. Always. 

And yet, somehow, impossibly, you still wanted his help. 

You weren’t here to be his daughter today. No, you were here for something more transactional, something clinical, something you thought he might be able to handle better than love. You were studying to be a sports therapist. Four years of aching backs, anatomy charts, injury reports, textbooks that read like they’d been translated from another language. You wanted to help people. Heal them. Tape their fractures, ease their bruises, guide them gently back to the things they loved. It made sense, in some twisted, ironic way, that your professors had suggested you intern under your father’s team. He was a seasoned coach, after all. Revered. Tough. Efficient. And you were nothing if not logical, so despite the rotting ache in your chest, the cold cup of tea, the flaking vinyl under your thighs, you had agreed to meet him and ask for the position. You’d rehearsed the words. I’m not asking for favoritism. I just want experience. I can do the job. I’ll keep my head down. I promise.

But now, the booth was empty except for you and your churning disappointment. Even the jukebox refused to play, the silence punctuated only by the clink of cutlery and the occasional bell over the door. Your eyes drifted to the window again, catching your own reflection faintly superimposed over the world outside: still, with shadows under your eyes and something hollow about the mouth. Not sad. Just used to it. There’s a difference. Eventually, the weight of waiting tipped you out of the booth, and you slipped your coat back on like armor. Your headphones dangled around your neck, the edges of a Bach concerto still humming faintly from the right side, but you didn’t lift them up. Not yet. You needed clarity, not comfort.

There was only one place he ever went this time of day. The ice rink. And so, you walked. Outside, the wind curled under your scarf like fingers seeking a pulse. Streetlamps flickered overhead, their bulbs blinking like tired eyes. Seoul was a city that didn’t sleep so much as dream with its eyes open, neon blinking against concrete, traffic lights blinking in cold Morse code. You passed through it like a shadow in motion, barely noticed, anonymous. Just the way you liked it.

When you reached the rink, it loomed like a cathedral of frost and echo. You could see your breath crystallizing in the air as you stepped inside, the glass doors groaning shut behind you. The chill wrapped itself around your bones, but you welcomed it. Cold was easier to handle than hurt. Cold made you sharp. Precise. Focused. The fluorescent lights buzzed above as you made your way down the corridor, the familiar scent of rubber and sweat filling your lungs. The hum of skates on ice reverberated faintly through the walls, scrapes, stops, a dull thud against the boards. Music, in its own rough language. You passed trophy cases lined with glimmering relics, photographs of boys with helmets crooked on their heads, their eyes wild with victory. One of them was your father, decades ago; before he grew bitter and distant, before he learned how to love the game more than he could ever love a family.

You expected the rink to be quiet, still and empty as a prayer unspoken. But as you stepped through the doors, the cold air kissed your cheeks with the gentleness of a ghost, and you heard it: the unmistakable scrape of blades against ice. Not chaos, not the frenzied thunder of a team in motion. Just one. A lone figure gliding back and forth, carving perfect arcs into the surface like a calligrapher with a silver pen. You paused at the boards, the glass cool beneath your fingertips, watching him move, fluid and sure, even in solitude. He skated like someone who didn’t need an audience. Who wasn’t chasing applause, just clarity. Repetition. Discipline. He wove through imaginary obstacles with practiced grace, the sound of his skates echoing like poetry in an empty room. You could almost forget how much you disliked hockey in moments like this, when it looked like dance, when it sounded like breath, when it shimmered with something close to silence.

You lifted your hand, tapped gently on the glass. Just once. He startled. The boy spun with a sharp jerk, arms splaying briefly for balance before he caught himself, chest rising with the kind of laugh you could only hear in body language. He glided toward you, a sheepish grin tugging at his mouth, strands of dark hair falling into his eyes beneath the helmet. He stopped just before the boards, breath fogging the space between you, and when he pulled his mouth guard down, his voice was warmer than you expected.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, with an apologetic nod, “but this is a closed practice.” You blinked. Not at the words, but at the way he said them, so earnestly, like a knight gently turning away a princess at the edge of a battlefield. His voice didn’t have the bite most hockey players used with girls near the boards. No teasing arrogance, no swagger. Just simple, practiced courtesy.

You smiled without thinking, soft and shy and almost surprised by your own reaction. “I’m too young to be called ma’am,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He blinked, then fumbled for a response, cheeks blooming with something faint and pink, even in the cold. “Oh—God, I—sorry. I just—my mom raised me that way. To be respectful. To women. Not that you’re old—I didn’t mean—I wasn’t saying that—” He trailed off, face contorting with the kind of mortified sincerity you rarely got to see outside of romantic comedies.

You let yourself laugh. Quiet, melodic. Just enough to lighten the air. “It’s okay,” you said gently, your voice muffled just slightly by your scarf. 

He blinked again, eyes flicking briefly down, then back up, as though recalibrating everything he assumed about the world and his place in it. His hands fidgeted with the edges of his gloves, and he glanced over his shoulder, as if remembering that he was the only one on the ice. “Still, I’m sorry, really. The rink’s closed to non-personnel. I — I can’t really let anyone just come in. Even if you’re not a… ma’am.” His smile was a little crooked now, tilted with humor at his own expense, and you couldn’t help it, you liked the way it softened his face. You liked the way he stood there, unsure, waiting, instead of telling you to leave outright. You lowered your hood, let your voice rise just enough to reach him clearly.

“I’m looking for Coach Bennett,” you said. “He’s my father.” The effect was immediate. He straightened like he’d been struck by lightning, helmet tilting back slightly as he stared at you with wide, stunned eyes.

“Wait—Coach Bennett’s daughter?” he echoed, like the words didn’t quite fit in his mouth. Then again, more flustered: “You’re—oh my God, I—I didn’t know—I mean I would’ve—God, I’m sorry.” He scrambled to unclip his helmet, fingers tangling in the strap before he finally pulled it off, revealing a mop of dark hair and a face flushed with either embarrassment or exertion, or both. He was handsome in a way that didn’t feel intentional. His features were sharp, yes, and he had the jawline of a boy who could ruin hearts without meaning to. But there was something open about him, something too human to be threatening.

“Really sorry again,” he said, standing straighter now, as though trying to look more official. “Coach is in his office—I can show you where it is. If you want. I mean, of course you want. You’re here to see him. So yeah. Come with me.” You bit your lip to hide another smile and nodded, falling into step behind him as he pushed open the side gate and stepped off the ice with surprising grace. The blades of his skates clinked against the rubber matting as he led you down the corridor. He didn’t speak at first, and neither did you. It was comfortable, the silence. Not the awkward kind. Just… quiet. Reverent. As though something soft and strange had entered the air and neither of you wanted to scare it off.

When he stopped outside your father’s office, he turned to you again. His eyes were warmer now. Curious. Kind. “I’m Jay, by the  way,” he said. “Captain of the team.” Of course he was.

You nodded once. “Nice to meet you, Captain.” And then you knocked. But for a heartbeat before your father’s voice called you in, you could feel Jay still looking at you, like he was trying to solve a riddle written in your eyes. And in that fleeting moment, you didn’t feel like a coach’s daughter. You felt like a secret worth keeping.

Coach Bennett’s office smelled like old sweat and ambition. The kind that settled into the corners, into the folds of jackets slung over chairs, into the woodgrain of the desk itself, soaked in over years of lost games and close calls. The room wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either. It felt clinical, hollow, like it didn’t belong to a person so much as to the idea of one. Hockey posters curled slightly at the edges, clinging to cinder block walls. The light overhead flickered with a low hum, casting everything in a tired, blue-toned glaze. He was there, hunched over a chaos of papers like a priest at his altar, eyes scanning injury reports and scouting notes as if he could rearrange fate with a red pen. You didn’t knock. Not this time. 

The door creaked open like a protest, and your footsteps broke the hush as you stepped inside. He didn’t look up at first, so absorbed in his paperwork that he didn’t hear the threshold of silence cracking like ice beneath your presence. But when he finally did, when your shadow crossed into his peripheral and your scent, faintly like jasmine and old books, stirred the air, he looked up, and his whole body stilled. His eyes widened with something between guilt and surprise, the pen in his hand faltering mid-sentence. The creases in his brow deepened like riverbeds. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, pushing the papers aside like they were something shameful. “I forgot. I—I’m sorry, I—” 

“Don’t,” you cut in, quiet but sharp. Not angry, just done. The kind of tone that grows in the lungs of girls who have been left at too many diners. “It’s whatever.” You stepped closer, not to bridge the gap, but to exist plainly in the room; as yourself, not a child in need of anything emotional. Just a student now. A professional. Someone with a clipboard of her own, even if metaphorical. You kept your coat on. Your scarf still looped tight at your throat. You weren’t here to unpack old things. You were here to ask for a favor. He sat back in his chair, watching you warily now, like you might say something he wasn’t prepared to hear. “What’s going on?” he asked, voice carefully neutral. 

“I need a team,” you said simply. “For my internship.” He blinked, clearly caught off-guard. You inhaled slowly, pressing your hands into your coat pockets so he wouldn’t see how tightly they curled. “For the school. I’m in the sports medicine track. Therapy. I need a team to tour with. Help the players after games. Manage muscle strain. Recovery. Things like that.” 

You watched his face shift as he absorbed the words. Something almost like pride flitted behind his eyes for a moment, brief, cautious, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he was allowed to feel it. “Of course,” he said without hesitation. “You can work with us.” That fast. No negotiation. No warnings. No conditions. Just an open door.

You didn’t smile. Not really. But a breath left you; just one. Like the first note in a song you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in your chest. “Thank you,” you said, not out of gratitude, but necessity. The way you might thank a stranger who held a door open. Polite. Distant. You turned to leave. But of course, he had to say it. Had to reach across the gulf between now and then. “I really am sorry,” he murmured, just as your fingers grazed the handle. You paused. Not long. Just long enough for him to hope.

Then you shook your head once, gently, like you were brushing a snowflake off your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.” Because you’d learned long ago how to build yourself from all the words he didn’t say. You didn’t need apologies. You didn’t need explanations. You needed a future. And you’d just stepped into it.

Outside, the sound of skates had stopped. Silence had settled again like fresh snowfall. And somewhere in the belly of the building, Jay was probably unlacing his boots, running his hands through his hair, wondering about the girl who tapped on the glass like she belonged on the outside looking in. And maybe she still did. But not for much longer. Because from here on out, you would walk through every door like it owed you something. And whether they liked it or not, you were on the team now. 

The rink always had a certain silence before practice, like a church before mass, where the faithful trickled in one by one, lacing up their skates like ritual, shrugging on jerseys like armor. The air was sharp, biting, clean in the way winter mornings were clean, unforgiving but pure. Jay had always liked that about hockey: the brutal grace of it. How something so violent could also be so precise. How blades could slice through frozen water like poetry written too fast. He stood at center ice, tapping the butt of his stick against the boards while the rest of the team gathered, jerseys fluttering slightly in the wake of their motion. There was a quiet hum of voices, low laughter, murmured complaints about the early hour, the chill, the drills surely to come. Jay felt the same pre-practice electricity that always curled under his skin, warm and charged and constant, but there was something else today. Something different. A shift in the air.

Sunghoon slid up beside him, eyes narrowed. His movements were slower than usual, still cautious after weeks of physical therapy. But there was that familiar smirk, like mischief lived permanently in his mouth. “Any idea why Coach called us early?” he asked, stretching one leg experimentally behind him. 

Jay shook his head, brows furrowing. “No clue. This wasn’t on the schedule. Even I just got the text.” 

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “And the great Captain Jay doesn’t know? Guess it’s serious.” Jay didn’t answer, but his mind turned. Coach Bennett didn’t do things last minute, not unless something was off, or something was about to change. And Jay had learned, over the years, to pay attention to change. To study its rhythm. To anticipate the way it could shatter routine like glass beneath a puck. Coach appeared then, stepping out from the tunnel with that familiar commanding presence, clipboard in hand like a sword, whistle bouncing lightly against his chest. His expression was unreadable. It always was. But today there was a glint in his eye, a sharpness, like he was bracing for something no one else could yet see. The team quieted instantly. Skates stilled. Conversations stopped.

“Listen up,” Coach said, voice firm but even. “I’ve got an announcement.” Jay felt his spine straighten out of instinct. He always did when Bennett spoke like that; like something important was about to be carved into stone.

“My daughter,” the coach began, pausing just a second too long, “will be joining the team.” A beat of silence. Then confusion cracked through the ice like a jagged fault line. Heads turned. Eyebrows raised. A few muttered responses, some curious, some amused.

Sunghoon leaned in again, voice low. “Wait — coach has a daughter?” Jay didn’t respond. He was too busy sorting through the flicker of memory from the night before: the knock on the glass, the girl with the music still folded around her like armor, the soft voice that said I’m too young to be called ma’am. The gentle dismissal, I’m here to see Coach Bennett. 

Coach cleared his throat. “To clarify, she’s not playing.” A few guys chuckled awkwardly, one of the rookies whispering something under his breath about whether Coach’s daughter could skate. He was promptly elbowed. “She’s a student in sports medicine,” Bennett continued, eyes scanning them like a general addressing soldiers. “She needs an internship. She’ll be traveling with us, working with you all post-practice, post-game — helping your muscles recover, monitoring fatigue, treating strain. You’ll see her on the bench. In the locker room. On the road.” 

Jay watched as the team absorbed this. Some looked impressed, some still confused. A few clearly still processing the idea of a girl, the coach’s daughter, no less being part of their inner circle. Coach’s gaze fell to Sunghoon. “You’ll be working with her the most at first.” 

Sunghoon blinked. “Me?” 

“You’re still coming off that leg injury. She’ll be helping your mobility and monitoring your recovery. You miss any check-ins, I’ll know.” Sunghoon nodded slowly, the surprise quickly replaced by professionalism. Jay knew he hated being treated like glass, but he’d also never refuse a chance to speed up healing. Not when playoffs were on the horizon.

Coach looked back at the group as a whole then, jaw set like he was preparing to say something final. “She’ll be here tomorrow. Watching your style. Observing how you move. How you break down. How you come back.” He paused again, the silence stretching like a taut wire. “She’ll be with us every day. Every game. Every trip.” Then his voice dropped just slightly, softer, but more dangerous. Like frost underfoot you didn’t notice until you were falling.

“And she’s off limits.” That silenced even the whispers. “No dating. No flirting. No ‘accidental’ drinks after practice. She’s not here to be your distraction. She’s not here for you to impress. She is a part of this team now. And that means she’s under my protection.” Jay felt something tighten in his chest, an invisible thread pulling taut. Because the words made perfect sense. They were rational. They were fair. Still, he couldn’t shake the image of her from the night before. The way she stood with snow melting on her coat, headphones tucked like secrets around her neck. The way she didn’t smile with her mouth, but with the corner of her eyes. The way she said thank you like it wasn’t a gift, but a necessity. Polite. Distant. And now she would be here, every day. A ghost walking among them. Not haunting; but changing the temperature of every room.

“Understood?” Coach asked, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. The team nodded. In uneven unison. A few shared glances. One or two looked like they’d already started mourning the idea of flirtation. Jay just said nothing. He wasn’t planning on breaking any rules. He never had. But something in his gut told him that this particular rule wouldn’t break loudly. It would break quietly. Like a blade slicing through ice. And the sound wouldn’t be heard until it was too late.

The locker room after practice was its own kind of cathedral, sacred, exhausted, and a little broken. The air still hummed with the echoes of movement: the scrape of blades off concrete, the thud of pads being stripped away, the muffled laughter of boys who were half-wolves when they played and half-children when the ice was gone. It always smelled like the aftermath of effort, sweat, steel, cold leather, and adrenaline fading into silence. Jay moved like a ritualist through it, toweling off damp hair, peeling away his jersey, hanging it neatly in his locker like a soldier laying down his colors. The room had grown quiet now, most of the team already gone, off to late dinners, to laugh about drills over ramen and muscle aches. Jay remained behind, as he often did, not because he had to but because some part of him needed the stillness. 

He liked to stay until the air was empty. Until it was just him and the hum of fluorescent lights above, buzzing like tired thoughts. He didn’t hear Coach Bennett at first. Not until he felt the weight of a presence at his back, and then the familiar sound of heavy boots on tile. Jay turned, towel slung around his neck, hair dripping dark at his temples. The man stood there, shoulders squared, arms folded across his chest. He didn’t speak immediately. He never did. He was the kind of man who let the silence do the talking until the words felt necessary. 

“Coach,” Jay said softly, straightening a little, though the comfort between them ran bone-deep. “Everything alright?” Coach’s eyes flicked over him, assessing, calculating, not as a player, but as a person. He gave a small nod, stepping forward. “Got a favor to ask you.”

Jay nodded instantly, without thought. “Anything.” And he meant it. Because if Jay had a compass in this world, it pointed north toward Bennett. Always had. He didn’t come from much, not stability, not praise, not the kind of family who cheered at games. But Coach saw him. Had plucked him out of obscurity like a diamond mistaken for coal, shaped him, believed in him when no one else even bothered to learn his name. Made him captain. Made him better. Taught him that strength wasn’t loudness, but consistency. That leadership wasn’t glory, but showing up, day after day, even when no one clapped.

Coach laid a hand on his shoulder, heavy and solid like a benediction. “It’s about my daughter.” Jay stilled, just slightly. The name unspoken but implied, hanging in the air like frost, delicate and dangerous. He swallowed once, slowly.

“She’s new to all this,” Coach went on, voice quieter now, like the edges of him softened when he spoke of her. “And I know this team. Hell, I built this team. I know how boys act when there’s someone soft in the room. And she’s not here for that. She’s here to work. To learn.” 

Jay’s jaw tensed faintly, but he kept his voice even. “Of course, Coach.” 

“I need someone to make sure the guys don’t get any ideas. That they remember she’s not a conquest, or a game, or something to write about in a group chat. And she doesn’t need to know I asked. She’d hate that. She’s got my pride.” He gave a small, humorless chuckle then, rubbing the back of his neck like the confession cost him something. “She already thinks I don’t see her. If she finds out I’m watching her through other people’s eyes, it’ll just make it worse.” 

Jay nodded again, slower this time. The weight of the request sank into his skin like bruises not yet visible. He could feel it, the invisible line being drawn, taut and fine and humming with tension. The line between loyalty and temptation. Between what was right and what had already started to stir quietly in the marrow of him. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” Jay said, and his voice didn’t falter, not even once. “I’ll make sure the guys don’t bother her. She’ll be safe. I promise.”

Coach’s eyes lingered on him, long and searching. For a moment Jay wondered if he saw it, whatever it was that had flickered in Jay’s chest when she knocked on the glass, when her eyes met his with that quiet, disarming clarity. But if he did, he didn’t speak of it. He just gave one firm nod, and a clap on the back that thudded like approval, or gratitude, or maybe a little bit of both. “Good man,” he said simply. “I knew I could count on you.” Jay smiled faintly. It was small. Hollowed. 

And when Coach walked away, leaving the door to his office open behind him, Jay sat back down on the bench. The metal was cold beneath him. The silence returned, thick and echoing. Only now, it felt different. Because promises, he’d learned, were like the game itself. 

They seemed simple from the outside, pass, skate, score, but beneath the surface, they were brutal. They cracked bones. Split skin. Cost you more than you realized when the puck first dropped. And now he’d made one. To the man who had given him everything. About the girl who didn’t know he existed yesterday. And something about that equation already felt like a game he wouldn’t win. Not cleanly. Not without bleeding a little. 

The next day you walk into the rink with your headphones on like armor, like a barrier of strings and sonatas against the roar of blades slicing across frozen ground. The music didn’t have words; just aching violins and mournful piano keys, the kind that curled around your ribs like ivy and whispered things no one else could hear. You liked it that way. Preferred it, in fact. A world where no one expected anything from you but observation. Where you could move quietly, head bowed, tucked into yourself like a letter never meant to be opened. The rink was alive with noise, the kind of chaotic, youthful clamor that echoed endlessly in the domed cavern of the arena. Hockey boys were everywhere. Loud, brash, laughing with the type of ease you had never possessed. They moved like wild creatures in a frozen jungle, owning the space with the kind of confidence that repelled you. You wanted none of it. You were here for school. For requirement. For the credits that would get you closer to your degree, to a future far away from this cold-blooded sport that had always taken more than it gave.

You didn’t want to be here because it meant being near him, Coach Bennett. Your father. The man whose love always came in second to a scoreboard. You hadn’t even told anyone he was your dad until college forced your hand. Until the paperwork made you declare your internship, and your professor raised a brow when you mentioned the team he coached. "Isn’t that your father’s team?" they'd asked. And you had smiled, thin and bitter, the kind of smile that knew it was a confession more than a truth. Now, standing at the edge of the rink, you felt the cold creeping through the soles of your boots, settling into your spine. You scanned the ice, eyes drifting lazily across the players in warm-ups; men with sticks and padded shoulders, like warriors readying for a war made of bruises and bloodied lips. You didn't know most of their names. Didn’t care to. But one face stood out, again.

Jay. The captain. He was skating like it meant something, like each stride was a prayer, a promise. His eyes were focused, intense, not like the others who grinned and jostled and cracked jokes. He skated like he was carrying something, like the weight of the team sat across his back and he had no choice but to bear it. When he saw you, just for a second; only a second, his eyes met yours. The glance was sharp and immediate, but then he looked away, just as quickly, like the connection had burned too hot, too fast. You didn’t think much of it. You barely knew him. And besides, you weren’t here for moments. You were here for muscle strain and injury reports. 

You made your way to the benches, setting your things down with clinical precision. Notepad. Pen. Clipboard. You moved like a doctor in a morgue, dispassionately pulling back the veil. You were already scribbling notes about posture, alignment, joint tension, before the first whistle blew. And then it did. Your father stepped out of his office and blew the whistle with the kind of command that could stop time. It pierced through the air, slicing straight through conversations and momentum alike. In a heartbeat, every player stopped. The way they lined up felt orchestrated, almost like choreography, the kind of order that came from months, maybe years, of discipline drilled into bone. They formed ranks, shoulder to shoulder, breathing hard, eyes alert. Soldiers in helmets. Artists in blood and bruises.

Coach Bennett tilted his head toward you. It was subtle, but it might as well have been a spotlight. You straightened awkwardly, your headphones still dangling around your neck like a noose of quiet rebellion. Your legs moved toward him before your heart caught up, and soon you stood beside him, exposed and scrutinized, every eye on you like you were some strange new species being introduced to a pack. “This is my daughter,” he said. No warmth in it. Just the words, dropped like a coin into a vending machine. Clink. Fact delivered. Move on. 

There was a flicker of confusion in the air, brief and bewildered, but your father cut through it before it could grow. “She’s not here to play. We already discussed this yesterday. She’s here as part of her medical program. She’s going to be working closely with Sunghoon—” he nodded toward the boy in question, who shifted his weight onto one leg with a lopsided smile, “—but she’ll be observing all of you. Watching how you move. Learning how to help you recover.” He paused, and then added, with a finality that could crack glass, “She’s officially part of this team now. That means she’s under my protection. Act accordingly.” And then, just like that, practice began.

You faded back to the bench, taking refuge in your notebook like it was the only world that made sense. Scribbling notes as the players moved, trying to catch the little things, the slant of a shoulder, the twist of a knee, the strain in a calf that hinted at fatigue or overuse. You wrote like you were solving equations, like the body was a riddle you could unravel with enough observation. But part of you was still listening. Watching. You paid attention to Sunghoon especially. His recovery was evident, he moved smoothly, mostly, but every so often you’d catch a limp, a shift in balance that told a different story. You jotted it down: Left leg bears less weight on turns. Compensation in hip angle. Follow up post-practice. His injury had been bad. You remembered reading about it. The kind of injury that ended careers. But he was back. They always came back, stitched together with willpower and tape and the kind of stubbornness only athletes seemed to possess.

Your eyes flickered once more to Jay.  He moved with that same elegance, only sharper. Cleaner. Like he was made for the ice. Like the rink recognized him as its own. You wanted to look away. But something about him made you linger a little longer. 

The whistle blew like a sudden gust, sharp and liberating. It sliced through the rhythm of skate blades and sent a collective exhale through the room, a pause carved into the body of practice like a rest note in a long and relentless symphony. Coach’s voice echoed through the chilled air "Ten minutes" and the boys broke off in various directions, some slouching against the boards, others throwing their helmets onto the bench with a satisfying clunk, already gulping down water like it could cure every bruise they've ever earned. 

You sat at the edge of the bench, body still and stiff, the kind of ache blooming at the nape of your neck that only comes from too much focus, from staring at bodies in motion, at joint tension and gait compensation and every angle of athletic wear and tear. The muscles of your own body felt coiled from stillness, from quiet endurance. You pulled your headphones down around your neck and exhaled, shaking out your head like a bird flicking off water from its feathers. Your eyes burned slightly, not from emotion but from overexertion, your thoughts running laps, your pen still ink-stained from the first hour of meticulous note-taking. And then, instinctively, you looked up. And he was looking at you. Jay. 

It wasn’t a curious glance. It wasn’t fleeting or accidental. It was… deliberate. His gaze held weight, anchored like a stone skipping across still water, disrupting something in you that you’d carefully kept dormant. For a heartbeat, time stalled. Not in a romantic way; no, you didn’t believe in that kind of thing. But in the way a deer pauses when it senses it's been seen, body still, breath caught. And then he looked away. Too quickly. Like he’d been caught committing some small crime. Like your eyes had burned him and he hadn’t expected the flame. You tilted your head, puzzled but unwilling to overthink it. Not your business. Not your problem. You were here for work, not curiosity. You weren’t a girl who chased after glances. You weren’t here to peel back the layers of hockey boys with brooding eyes and sharp cheekbones. You were here to help, to heal. Not to unravel. 

Still, the interaction clung to your ribs as you stood, notebook in hand, purpose hardening your spine like steel beneath silk. If your father wasn’t going to introduce you properly, then you’d do it yourself. You’d show them that you weren’t just the coach’s daughter, you were the intern, the analyst, the healer. You walked with quiet authority across the ice-chilled floor, each footstep sure, your notes pressed tight against your chest like scripture. First, Lee Heeseung. Tall, almost too tall to be real, with a kind of radiance that caught light like polished glass. He moved like he was made for attention, but your trained eyes saw what others didn’t; the slight forward hunch, the overextension in his reach, the way his shoulders bore weight wrong, unevenly, like a house built on a tilted foundation. You stepped toward him, gentle but firm. 

“Do your shoulders ache?” you asked, voice calm but clear. 

He blinked at you, eyebrows pulling upward in bemusement. “Uh… yeah, actually. Constantly.” 

You nodded. “Because your form’s too open. You reach too far with your stick and overcompensate with your back muscles. You’re burning out your deltoids before you even get to the second period.” He stared, dumbfounded, as if you had read it off a hidden manuscript folded inside his bones.

“If you rotate more from your hips instead of your upper back, you’ll take pressure off the joint. I’ll show you how to fix it after.” He said nothing, only nodded with an almost reverent curiosity, as though he were seeing you for the first time. You moved on.

Next, Sunghoon. He was lounging against the wall, sweat dampening his dark hair like ink spilled across paper. You studied the subtle shift in his stance, the way he favored one leg. It wasn’t overt, but to you it was a glaring neon sign. He didn’t wince, but his left side moved slower, more cautiously. “You’re compensating,” you said, making him look up. 

He grinned. Not a cocky grin, but the kind that folded warmly around the edges. “Can’t help it.” 

“You’re doing well, considering. You land softly, roll through your hips, you don’t put too much pressure on the joint; but I can still see it.” 

He shrugged. “My girl’s a figure skater. Taught me how to fall pretty.” That made you smile. A real one. One that cracked the ice around your ribs a little. You nodded in approval. “She taught you well.” 

And then, Jay. You approached him last. His expression was unreadable, but something in the air around him shifted as you neared, like the temperature dropped a few degrees. He sat on the bench, helmet resting beside him, forearms braced on his thighs. Up close, he looked even more cut from marble, angular and quiet, a monument to restraint. He didn’t look up at first, not until your shadow settled over his lap like a silent challenge. “Does your knee hurt?” you asked, flipping a page in your notebook. 

His head rose slowly, his gaze flickering over your face like he was trying to piece something together. There was no trace of the sheepish boy you’d startled in the rink a few nights ago. This Jay was guarded, mouth tight, voice low. “I’m fine.”

Your eyes didn’t waver. “You favor your left side. Every time you cut left, you hesitate. You don’t fully extend through the glide.” 

He scowled faintly. “It’s nothing. I know how to stretch.” 

You raised a brow, the edge of your mouth tugging upward; not in amusement, but something sharper. “Obviously you don’t. Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” 

His jaw ticked. “I don’t need help.”

“This isn’t up for debate,” you said, your voice steady as a blade sheathed in silk. “You’re not exempt just because you’re the captain. If you want to avoid tearing something before playoffs, meet me after practice. I’ll show you the stretch.” And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving the weight of your words lingering in the air like smoke after a firework. 

Practice ended not with a bang, but a slow unraveling, a sigh across the rink, the hiss of skate blades leaving ice, gear clattering into duffels like thunder softened into memory. The tension of the game dissolved into the scent of sweat and the chill of melting frost on players' necks. You lingered by the boards with your notepad, pen scribbling observations in swift, decisive loops. Notes about posture and movement, pain disguised as endurance, tight shoulders masked by bravado. Each boy became a puzzle, a map of injuries and habits and patterns, bodies writing stories in the snow, and you were trying to read them in a language only you understood. You made your rounds with professionalism sewn into your spine like armor. Softened your voice for Sunghoon, smiled gently at Heeseung, offered a shoulder tap and quiet praise where it was earned. But your eyes kept slipping, to the back corner of the locker room, where the Captain sat like a storm gathering in silence. Jay, half-shadowed, alone.

He was stretching. Technically. But he was doing it all wrong. The angle of his knee, the twist of his ankle, the way his weight was distributed, off, completely off. It wasn’t just inefficient; it was dangerous. You watched him for a minute too long, notebook momentarily forgotten. Something about the way he moved, so precise and careless at once, frustrated you. Like watching someone trying to read with their eyes closed, convinced they didn’t need light. You sighed, a breath curling like frost against your throat, and tucked your notepad under your arm.

Your footsteps echoed lightly across the tiles as you approached him, the hum of the fluorescent lights above buzzing like the wings of an insect trapped in amber. “You’re doing it all wrong,” you said simply, voice even but firm. Not mocking. Just true. Jay didn’t look at you at first. He exhaled hard through his nose, like your presence was an ache he didn’t know how to stretch out. Then, he rolled his eyes with all the weariness of a boy who’d spent his life hearing people tell him what to do. 

“I told you already,” he muttered. “I don’t need help.” You laughed. Not a bright laugh, not one made of bells or sunlight. It was dry and sharp, like the snap of a twig underfoot, unexpected, dismissive, real. “Yeah, well,” you said, stepping a little closer, “I’m here whether you like it or not.” 

He didn’t respond. He stayed seated, hands braced behind him on the bench, jaw tight. You knelt beside him carefully, knees folding like paper cranes, your movements deliberate. You reached for his leg, intending to guide it gently, to correct the twist in his stretch; But he flinched back, gaze snapping to yours, guarded and immediate. “Why are you touching me?” he asked, low, almost startled. As if your hand were a flame and he hadn’t expected to get burned. 

You froze, hand hovering midair, your breath catching in your throat like a note not quite played. “Sorry,” you murmured, retreating an inch. “But I kind of need to touch you to show you how to bend your knee properly. That is… if you want to stop tearing ligaments before you’re twenty-five.” He looked at you for a long moment. His eyes weren’t angry, just… unreadable. The color of storm-drenched bark, of something old and rooted and worn by wind. Then, finally, a single slow nod. Permission granted.

You inched forward again, carefully, the space between you electric and small. Your fingers found his knee, warm through the thin fabric of his compression pants, and turned it just so, guiding his leg into a safer, smoother line. You spoke softly, explaining the movement, the angle, the way the muscles needed to engage. Clinical, composed, but your voice wavered just slightly beneath it all, like a violin string drawn too tight. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. But his eyes never left your face. You felt the weight of them, like moonlight poured too heavy, like winter sun through an old windowpane, quiet but inescapable. You tried not to notice. You focused on your task. You were a professional. You were your father’s daughter. You had no room to blush under scrutiny. 

But still, his gaze burned. Not cruel, not invasive, just… watching. Like he was trying to solve something about you. Like he didn’t expect you to exist the way you did. Like you were a song in a genre he’d never listened to before and suddenly couldn’t stop playing. Your hands paused, still resting on his leg. You looked up, the air between you catching on your ribs. “You’re holding your breath,” you said quietly.

Jay blinked, startled. Then slowly exhaled, a sound so faint it could’ve been mistaken for silence. “I didn’t realize,” he said. You nodded, pulling your hands away, letting the warmth of his skin fade from your fingertips. You stood slowly, brushing off invisible dust, the ghost of contact lingering like the smell of smoke on fabric. 

“Well… now you do,” you replied. You didn’t look back as you walked away, not even when you felt his eyes follow you. You didn’t need to. You knew. Something had shifted. Not broken. Not begun. Just shifted. And shifts, small as they seem, have been known to start avalanches. 

The ice rink hums behind you, echoing with the aftertaste of exertion; shouted jokes, distant thuds of sticks dropped to concrete, the hiss of showers roaring to life. You’re gathering your things slowly, as if the weight of your bag is heavier now, as if the moment you shared with Jay, fleeting as a spark, has thickened the air around you. Your fingers fumble with the zipper of your notebook pouch, and the stretch in your chest still lingers, not quite tension, not quite ache. Your pulse is a quiet metronome, steady and unhurried, but a part of you wonders, why did it feel like he was looking at more than just the position of your hands? You shake the thought loose, like snow from your shoulders. You’ve always been good at untangling what doesn’t belong. 

You slip your headphones over your ears out of habit, though the music hasn’t started yet, and turn to go, ready to leave behind the clattering cold, the conversations you’re not a part of, the ache behind your eyes that only fluorescent lights and long-held disappointment seem to bring. But just as the door brushes open, his voice stops you. “Hey—wait.” It’s your father.

Coach Bennett. To them, just Coach. To you… a name wrapped in thorns and fatherhood, a man who taught you to ride a bike and then promptly missed every school play after. You turn, slowly, shoulders still braced with the tension of too many unsaid things. He’s leaning by the locker room threshold, towel looped around his neck, clipboard in hand, a man caught between work and worry. There’s something weathered about him, eyes rimmed in fatigue, mouth tight as if every word is weighted with the pressure of needing to win. Always needing to win.

“You headed out?” he asks, trying for casual, like he didn’t leave you waiting in that diner with a glass of tea  sweating between your fingers and a heart already resigned to being forgotten.

You nod. “Yeah. I’ve got notes to type up.”

He clears his throat and glances down, as if suddenly remembering something that’s been burning a hole in his clipboard. “Right, well, your mother and I… we were hoping you’d come to a dinner at our place.” You blink. The sentence feels foreign. Bent out of shape.

“Dinner?” you echo, like it’s a language you haven’t spoken in years.

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s cooking. We’re having the Yang family over. You remember them? They used to come to your birthday parties when you were little.” You remember. Vaguely. A woman with kind eyes and a son with sticky fingers who pulled your hair when he thought you weren’t looking. You remember the way your mother always smiled too hard when she hosted, like she was trying to win some unseen game. 

“I don’t know,” you say slowly. “I have stuff to do. I was gonna —”

“Your mother would really like you there.” The words land gently. But they wrap around your ribs like guilt. You stare at him, this man who knows how to rally a team, who can read the trajectory of a puck midair but never quite learned how to read you. Still, something in his voice is softer than usual. Maybe it’s the way he says her name. Maybe it’s the fact that he said we. You sigh. Your fingers tighten around your strap. You tell yourself you’re doing it for her, not for him. That there’s a difference. That the knot in your stomach isn’t because he asked you like he meant it.

“Fine,” you mutter, eyes dropping to the floor. “I’ll go.”

He nods, relief flickering in his features for just a breath. He doesn’t say thank you. He doesn’t have to. You both know that this is just another quiet truce in a long line of unspoken compromises. And just like that, you step out of the locker room, into the sharp wind curling through the corridor, your footsteps echoing down a hallway that always felt too wide for love. The evening air slips beneath your jacket, and you slip your headphones back on, press play. A cello fills your ear, slow and mournful, dragging its bow across your bones. You walk alone, music in your blood, but the memory of Jay’s eyes watching you refuses to fade. Like a handprint pressed to glass. Like a ripple after the stone is gone. 

Your dorm smells like lavender detergent and pencil shavings, the remnants of college life settled like dust in corners you’ll never quite reach. The moment the door clicks shut behind you, you let the weight you’ve been holding all day slide off your bones. Your bag slumps to the floor with a thud that echoes like a memory, and your limbs follow suit, dragging you toward the bed like gravity’s favorite child, like weariness itself lives beneath your skin. You plop down with all the drama of a sigh swallowed whole, limbs sprawled like you’ve been dropped by life itself. The mattress dips beneath you, cradling your exhaustion like it knows every ache by name. You stare at the ceiling. That blank, indifferent canvas.

The plaster above you doesn’t blink when you ask it silent questions. It doesn’t flinch when your heart tugs in that old, familiar way; a tender throb behind your ribs that speaks not of heartbreak but of something older. Something more foundational. A longing not for romance, but for recognition. You think about the way your father spoke to Jay earlier today. The firm hand on his shoulder. The way he called him “son”  with that gravelly voice full of trust and something perilously close to affection. You picture Jay, upright, respectful, attentive. A good soldier. A son made in the image of the game your father worships. And somehow, it makes sense. Of course he sees Jay like that. Like someone to be proud of. Like someone worth asking anything of.

You turn over, your cheek pressing into the cool cotton of your pillow, and let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep does not come. Instead, there’s that image again: your father, standing tall and certain beside Jay. There’s something about the way they fit together, coach and captain, like two sides of the same coin. A partnership born on the ice, forged by whistles and drills and the quiet understanding of shared purpose. And you? You were always just orbiting that world. A speck caught in the gravity of pucks and sweat and chalk-drawn strategies on whiteboards you weren’t supposed to read. You learned early on how to be quiet in a room full of roars. How to braid your silence into usefulness. How to stitch your dreams into shadows.

You swallow hard, turning again, burying your face deeper into the pillow as if it could erase the bitterness clinging to the edges of your thoughts. There is no use in comparing. You tell yourself that. You chant it in your mind like a prayer you almost believe. But it doesn’t stop the twinge. That sting of jealousy, quick and sharp like the slap of cold air when you step out of the rink. You hate it. You hate feeling this way. It makes you feel small, like a child standing in the doorway of a room where they were forgotten. You were never enough to pull him away from the ice. Not really. Not when it mattered. 

Your thoughts spiral, curling tighter and tighter, like leaves drying in the sun, until they crack and crumble into a quiet resentment you’ll never say out loud. It isn’t rage. It isn’t even hurt. It’s that soft, bruised ache of a girl who stopped asking a long time ago. Your fingers clutch the edge of your comforter. You inhale deeply, try to ground yourself in the scent of fabric softener and the faint trace of your shampoo clinging to your sheets. This is your life now. Your space. Your silence. You’re here to work, to help, to heal. You are not here to unravel. You are not here to bleed. You exhale slowly, trying to empty yourself of all the noise you never say aloud. 

And yet, as your body finally begins to still, mind untethering from the day’s demands, you can’t help but remember the way Jay had looked at you. Eyes tracking your every move like you were a constellation he didn’t expect to find. As if he didn’t understand you, but wanted to. And worse still… the part of you that didn’t mind it. You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut harder. No. You’re here to observe. To support. To become what you’ve always wanted: a healer. Someone who listens to pain and knows what to do with it. Someone who helps others move forward, even when she’s stuck in place. You are not here to fall. Not for the captain. Not for the boy with tired eyes and a voice that turned cold when you got too close. Not for the one your father already loves.

You curl beneath your blanket, trying to block out the sound of the skating rink still echoing in your head, like ghosts tracing figure-eights across the floor of your memory. But they linger. All of them. Every step, every look, every word not spoken. And outside your window, the moon begins to rise like a watchful eye, silver and silent, bearing witness to your quiet war.

The frat house buzzed with the soft murmur of voices and the low thump of bass-heavy music, vibrating faintly through the wooden floors like a second, impatient heartbeat. The air was warm, too warm, thick with the scent of beer-soaked upholstery, half-eaten takeout, and a kind of restless boyhood energy that lingered like smoke. The overhead light flickered with a kind of tired stutter, casting shadows that leaned against the walls, distorted and lanky, as if even they were eavesdropping on the night. Jay sat perched at the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, fingers absently turning his water bottle in slow circles. It squeaked quietly against the condensation pooling beneath it, an accidental metronome keeping time with his drifting thoughts. Around him, the world blurred into soft focus. Heeseung lay sprawled like a cat on the floor, his hair a mess, flipping a bottle cap into the air with lazy grace. Sunghoon was halfway into the armchair, legs dangling, his voice doused in mischief as he picked apart the drama of someone else’s heartbreak with all the casual cruelty of young men who’d never had their own hearts split open properly. They were all happily in love anyway. 

“Swear to God,” Sunghoon was saying, “the second Yunjin started that book club she didn’t invite him to? I knew she was checking out.”

Heeseung scoffed, his laugh low and sharp. “Nah, it was when she posted that solo beach trip pic. The one with the mysterious shadows and cropped-out shoulders? Amateur breakup announcement.”

Jay should have laughed. Should’ve said something clever and mean. But the words got lost somewhere between the memory of your hands on his knee and the way you’d looked at him, not like he was special, but like he was stubborn and wrong and in desperate need of correction. He didn’t know why it stuck with him. There’d been dozens of people who’d corrected him before, coaches, trainers, even professors. But you... you’d done it with a tilt of your head, a certainty in your voice that was almost tender and almost cruel. As if you weren’t trying to prove a point, but trying to protect him from himself. And that smile you gave afterward. Small. Smug. So real he could taste it on the back of his tongue.

“You good, Jay?” Jake’s voice slid in, calm and grounding, like a stone skipping across water.

Jay blinked, head snapping toward him as though waking from a fever dream. “What?” 

Jake gave him a look, familiar and knowing. “You’ve been staring at the coffee table like it offended your ancestors.”

Jay exhaled, trying for a laugh. It came out more like a sigh. “Just tired.”

Jake grinned, leaning back, fingers running through his messy hair. “Join the club. Sera’s been doing these 3 a.m. concerts lately. I think she’s rehearsing for some kind of sleep-deprivation competition.” At that, Jay smiled. It was easier now, hearing Jake talk about his daughter, his eyes softening in the way only a father’s eyes do, even a young, exhausted one. It reminded Jay that not all responsibility weighed the same. Some burdens were chosen. Some were gifts disguised as sleepless nights.

“How is she?” Jay asked, voice quieter than before. At once, Jake lights up. It’s the kind of brightness that’s hard to fake, pure, paternal, cracked wide open with joy. “She’s perfect,” he says. “I mean, I don’t sleep anymore, and I’ve memorized the words to like six lullabies I didn’t know existed, but... when she grabs my finger with her whole hand? Man.” He grins, shaking his head. “I get it now. That stupid thing people say about how it changes everything. It does.” Jay listens. Really listens this time. There’s something grounding about Jake’s voice, the softness of it, the awe. It steadies the storm in his chest for a moment, like wind pressed flat under a gentle palm. “We are...figuring it out. But yeah. She’s everything.” 

Jay nodded slowly, absorbing it. He tried to picture it, being someone’s anchor, someone’s whole world before they even knew what a world was. He wasn’t sure he could. His own childhood was too quiet, too cold. His father’s hands had never lingered in his hair, never tucked in his jersey, never taught him how to be soft. But Coach Bennett had. In his own gruff way. He’d shown Jay how to lace up ambition like skates, how to hold his chin up even when the game turned against him. He’d made Jay captain when everyone else had told him he was too intense, too focused, too rough around the edges. Coach had believed in him, and Jay never forgot that kind of loyalty. It was the kind that carved itself into your bones. 

Which is why it was maddening, this new pull, this flickering tension every time your eyes met his. You were Coach’s daughter. A line drawn bold and black across the ice. He couldn’t even skate near it. But still. He kept remembering the way your brows furrowed while watching the team, the soft movements of your pen against paper like some orchestral conductor writing a silent symphony of muscle and breath and pain. The way you didn’t flinch under the weight of so many eyes. The way you didn’t once search the crowd for your father’s approval. That part, especially, had lodged itself in his throat. Because it wasn’t just that you were off-limits.

It was that you were untouchable in ways that had nothing to do with rules and everything to do with the ache he’d spent years learning to ignore. Jay shifted on the couch, elbows tightening against his knees. “She’s different,” he murmured before he could stop himself.

Jake raised a brow. “Who?” Jay looked up, startled, caught.

“No one,” he lied. But his thoughts were already spiraling, your hand on his knee, your voice in his ear, that laugh, dry and sarcastic, like a dagger wrapped in silk. He didn’t know what game this was, but it wasn’t one he knew the rules to. And worse still, he wasn’t sure he wanted to play fair.

It was the kind of night that felt like a sigh, long and low and inevitable. The sun had dipped behind the hills hours ago, leaving behind a sky bruised in soft purples and melancholic blue, like the hush before a confession. And still, here you were, standing at the edge of your parents’ driveway, dread curling around your ribs like ivy. You would’ve given anything to turn around, to walk back into the familiar solitude of your dorm room where silence hummed in soft harmonies and your music knew how to hold you without asking for anything in return. But no, the pull of obligation was a cruel thing, thick and choking, and tonight, it dragged you home. The house was lit up like a stage set, warm lights glowing from the windows, casting golden halos against the glass. You inhaled once, twice, steeling yourself, then stepped inside. 

“Sweetheart!” your mother’s voice lifted into the air like a melody composed of saccharine niceties and desperate hope. She wrapped her arms around you before you could brace for it, her perfume, something powdery and expensive, sinking into your coat like memory. “I’m so glad you made it,” she whispered into your shoulder, though it felt less like a welcome and more like a plea. You nodded, lips pressed into a polite smile that didn’t quite touch your eyes. The scent of roasted garlic and marinated meat drifted in from the kitchen, thick and inviting, almost enough to distract you; almost. But then you heard your name called, and when you turned, you were met with the carefully curated smiles of two strangers standing too close to the polished mahogany of the entryway table. People you’ve seen before but don’t really know. 

“This is Mr. and Mrs. Yang,” your mother said, her voice bright with a rehearsed kind of joy. “And their son, Jungwon.” Jungwon. His name hit the air like a pebble in still water, creating gentle, rippling waves of expectation. You gave them a nod, soft, distant, the same way one acknowledges clouds passing in the sky. He was handsome in the clean, quiet way some boys are, shirt tucked in too neatly, posture molded by years of piano lessons or polite dinners just like this one. He smiled at you, polite and kind. But your heart remained unmoved. There was no stirring, no ache, no static hum beneath your skin. He was fine. But you wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else.

Without a word, you slipped past them and made your way into the kitchen, the sound of your boots echoing against the tiled floor like the punctuation to a sentence no one had the nerve to say. “Hey,” you murmured, your voice low but warm, as you stepped behind your brother, who was busy laying out silverware with an absent frown. Jaehyun didn’t look up at first, just kept folding napkins like it was some kind of test. 

“You made it,” he said flatly, glancing over his shoulder.

You bumped his arm with your knuckles, a small sibling gesture of truce. “Unfortunately.”

He snorted. “Tell me about it. They made me help prep. Felt like I was in culinary boot camp.”

“How’s hockey?”

At that, he shook his head, tousled brown hair falling into his eyes. “Brutal,” he muttered, the word pulled like a string from his throat. “We lost by five. My shoulder’s still sore from that last check.”

You laughed, though it was more of a breath than a sound. “You’ll live.” He rolled his eyes, but you could see the ghost of a smile playing on his lips before your mother’s voice called again, floating in from the hallway like a chime in a storm.

“Dinner’s ready!” Just like that, the spell broke. Jaehyun gathered the last of the glasses and followed behind you into the dining room where the long table waited like an altar, gilded with candlesticks, lace runners, and plates of food that looked too pristine to eat. You took your place near the end, far enough from the guests but close enough for civility, your back straight, your hands folded in your lap like the good daughter they always hoped you'd remember how to be. The Yangs spoke in soft, lulling tones, words that barely scratched at the surface of anything real. Their son sat across from you, occasionally meeting your gaze like he wanted to say something, something clever, or thoughtful, or maybe just nice, but you weren’t in the mood for pleasantries. Not tonight. Your smile was a veil, your laugh a curtain. You were not here. Not really.

Your father sat at the head of the table, his expression stoic, eyes moving from plate to plate, from person to person, as though dinner was just another meeting he had to manage. He asked about hockey like it was the weather, predictable and detached. He spoke more to Jaehyun than he had to you all week. And as the meal wore on, you found yourself chewing more on thoughts than on food. You thought about how he called Jay “son” sometimes in passing. How his voice softened when he talked to his players, how he clapped them on the backs with the kind of praise you used to dream about. You thought about the way Jay had looked at you today, the way his eyes followed your fingers, the heat of his skin beneath your hands, the tension of muscle and meaning that neither of you dared acknowledge. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, pushing your fork through a piece of untouched chicken. You were tired of feeling second. Tired of the way your family only saw you when they wanted to show you off, when your presence meant something shiny and packaged. You thought about how Jay had rolled his eyes at you earlier, and how, weirdly, that had made you feel more seen than this whole table full of curated smiles and forgotten birthdays.

Dinner dragged on like a clock with too many hours, and you responded when spoken to, nodded at the right moments, said thank you when dishes were passed. But your mind wandered, to the rink, to the feeling of being useful, of having something to offer, even if the captain of the team found you irritating. At least that irritation was honest. And honesty, you were learning, was a rare delicacy in this house.

The clink of forks against porcelain had become a steady rhythm, a kind of soft percussion to a dinner that already felt twice its length. Small talk meandered between sips of wine and half-hearted compliments, your mother commenting on Mrs. Yang’s earrings, your father asking about Mr. Yang’s latest business venture with the polite detachment of a man doing what he was told. Across the table, Jungwon answered when spoken to, his voice low and kind, a boy raised to be gentle, to make eye contact, to smile when he felt uncertain. You didn’t mind him, not really. He seemed sweet. But sweetness, you were beginning to learn, rarely held weight when placed against the fire of ambition or the ache of unmet need. You chewed on a piece of bread, nodding along to a joke your brother made, when your father cleared his throat. The kind of clearing that meant a shift, a tone, a pivot into purpose.

“So,” he began, looking down the table as though he weren’t already directing the spotlight right at you. “Jungwon will be joining the team this semester. Equipment assistant.” Your eyes flicked to the boy across from you, his cheeks pinkened slightly, bashful beneath the weight of your father’s pride. You gave him a polite smile, one that said, Good for you, but not I care.

“He’ll be on the sidelines with you,” your father added casually, as if mentioning the weather again, but there was something careful in the way he said it, something staged. You caught it immediately, the way his gaze slipped from Jungwon to you and then lingered just a moment too long. You stiffened slightly in your chair, already sensing the script he had in his mind.

“That’s great,” you said lightly, reaching for your glass. “We’ll be co-spectators then.” But your father wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

“You two should spend more time together,” he said, letting the suggestion unfurl itself with the soft force of velvet gloves. “Jungwon’s a good kid. Focused. Thoughtful. Comes from a good family.” His smile flickered toward the Yangs like a candle catching draft, then returned to you, heavy with intention. And there it was, the curtain lifted, the illusion gone. You blinked slowly, letting the silence settle just a beat too long before speaking.

“I’m not dating right now,” you said plainly, though your voice was calm, even lyrical. A stone skipping across still water. “Not planning to until after I graduate next year. Boys are a distraction.” You said it like fact, not defense. Like gospel truth carved into stone tablets handed down by a wiser version of yourself. And maybe it was. After all, how many years had you sacrificed for perfect scores, for internships, for the dreams that danced just beyond reach like distant galaxies? You had no room for curated love stories or staged introductions masked as fate.

Your mother chuckled softly, a little forced. “Darling, no one’s saying you need to rush anything.”

But your father leaned forward ever so slightly, elbows on the table like this was suddenly a negotiation. “It wouldn’t hurt to keep an open mind.” You met his eyes then, really looked. Not through him, not past him, but at him. The man who gave his softness to the boys on his team, who wore fatherhood like a jacket he could take off when it became too warm. You didn’t glare, didn’t raise your voice. But your gaze was steel behind a glass window. Clear. Unyielding.

“I know what you’re doing,” you said, barely above a whisper. “And I’m not interested.” The room went still for a moment, the way a violin string quivers just after it’s been plucked. Jaehyun looked down at his plate, chewing slowly. Jungwon rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed to have been made a piece on someone else’s chessboard. 

Your mother, ever the conductor of delicate recoveries, let out a laugh that sounded like it belonged to someone else. “Well! Why don’t we pass the salad around again? There’s more in the kitchen.” But you’d already pushed your plate aside, appetite gone, your chest tight with the strange ache of not quite belonging anywhere, not even here, not even with the people whose house you were raised in. You weren’t angry, not really. Just tired of the orchestration, the planning of your life as though it were a charity auction item passed between polished hands.

You didn’t want curated affection. You wanted to be chosen for who you were, not for who you were supposed to be. And outside, behind the thick curtains, the wind picked up in a hush, as though it, too, was trying to say something no one else could quite hear.

After dinner the table sat stripped of its former warmth, plates cleared, wineglasses emptied, napkins folded in the hush of a meal that had long since soured in your mouth. The laughter had faded like perfume lingering on a dress after the wearer has gone, and the only sounds now were the distant humming of the dishwasher and the shifting of chairs against hardwood as the front door shut behind the last of the guests. The air was still, thick with the kind of silence that waits to be broken, and you could feel it crawling up your spine like a storm on the edge of breath.

You stood there for a moment in the half-light of the dining room, your arms crossed against your chest like armor, your lips pursed in a line that threatened to break. Your mother moved quietly through the kitchen, her hands busy with cleaning, like always, her fingers always searching for distraction. Jaehyun yawned and leaned against the doorframe, phone in hand, already halfway out of the scene. But your eyes were fixed on the figures seated at the kitchen island: your parents, still playing their parts, still pretending that everything had been done out of love and not control. You stepped forward then, your voice calm but edged with the kind of cold that burned. “I didn’t appreciate what you tried to do tonight.”

Your mother looked up from the sink, the sponge pausing mid-scrub. Your father set his glass down, the click of it against granite too loud in the stillness. “We were just trying to help,” your mother said, gentle and practiced, the way someone might approach a wild animal, afraid of startling it.

You shook your head, swallowing down the heat that rose in your throat. “No. You weren’t helping. You were arranging. You were deciding for me.” Your father’s brow furrowed, his voice firm, that coaching tone slipping through like oil under a door. “We just thought you could use someone stable. Jungwon’s a good kid.”

“I don’t care,” you said. “That’s not your choice to make.”

There was a beat of silence before your father leaned back, his arms crossing, his jaw tightening like the locking of a gate. “Well, I already told the boys not to even think about you. I made it very clear; you’re off-limits to that team.” And there it was. The line drawn in blood. The decision inked into law without your consent. Your chest rose, breath shallow and burning, and for a moment all you could hear was the rush of your own heartbeat in your ears, like the distant roar of a tide pulling away from the shore.

“You what?” you asked, though you had heard him perfectly. You just needed to hear it again, to confirm the absurdity.

“I told them you’re off-limits,” he repeated. “I won’t have distractions on my team. You’re not there for that.” Something inside you cracked, quietly, the way a branch bends too far before it finally breaks. It wasn’t about boys. It wasn’t about Jungwon or Jay or anyone else on that ice. It was about you, your choices, your agency, your life being treated like a project in his playbook, another thing to coach into submission. 

“You don’t get to decide that,” you said, your voice trembling, not with fear, but with the sheer weight of everything you’d carried. “You don’t get to police my life just because you missed out on being a part of it before.” Your mother gasped softly, the words hitting her like a gust of wind through an open door. Jaehyun had long gone silent, his eyes darting from you to your father like a spectator at a match he didn’t want to see. Your father looked stunned, as if he hadn’t expected the defiance, as if the girl he’d always seen; dutiful, distant, quiet, had finally stood up and lit the room on fire.

“You don’t get to be their father and mine only when it’s convenient,” you whispered. “You don’t get to show up now and act like you’ve earned the right to guard my future.” There was nothing left to say. Not really. You turned on your heel, grabbed your bag with trembling hands, and stormed toward the door, your footsteps loud against the wood like drumbeats announcing a war. No one stopped you. No one dared. The air behind you folded in on itself like paper, creased, tense, ready to tear.

Outside, the night was cold, the stars bleached white against a velvet sky. You walked fast, like maybe the wind could carry your fury away or the moon could catch the tears you refused to let fall. You didn’t cry, though. You were done crying. You had your own life to live.

The rink was a cathedral of stillness when you arrived, the kind of sacred hush that only exists before the world wakes up fully, before blades scratch across ice, before whistles pierce the air, before voices rise like a storm. The overhead lights cast long shadows across the rink’s frozen surface, a pale, dreamy silver that shimmered like moonlight trapped beneath glass. You moved quietly, your footsteps muffled against the concrete, setting your things on the bench with the kind of careful intention that comes from routine born out of necessity. The cold curled around your ankles and fingers like a ghost; familiar, but not quite welcome. You slipped your headphones on, the music like a balm against the clutter of your mind. It dulled the noise from last night, dimmed the echo of your father's voice, the barbed twist of his authority. You had buried your anger beneath a layer of icy professionalism, telling yourself that this was work, just work. This was about anatomy and muscle tension, about tape and breath and recovery, not about fathers who try to cage you or boys with dark eyes and heavy gazes who can make your pulse falter with a look. 

You sat with your notebook open, sketching out plans, rotations for dynamic stretches, observations from the last practice, notes about posture, fatigue, habits of the body you were learning to read like language. You were deep inside your own head, scribbling something about joint stabilization and impact absorption, when a gentle tap on your shoulder sent a shock through your bones. You turned fast, heart stuttering as you tugged your headphones down, blinking up to find Jungwon standing just behind you. His hands were up in mock surrender, a soft smile pulling at his lips like sunshine trying to break through a curtain of clouds.

“Sorry,” he said, voice low, a little sheepish. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You let out a breath and gave a small shake of your head, smiling despite yourself. “No, it’s okay. I was just… somewhere else.” 

He nodded, eyes flicking to your notebook, then back to you. “I just, uh, I wanted to apologize. About dinner. I had no idea our parents were planning that.” His voice was genuine, and something about the tilt of his head and the nervous shuffle of his feet told you he meant it. You relaxed, the tension in your shoulders loosening like laces unthreading.

“It’s not your fault,” you said, voice softening. “I could tell you were just as surprised as I was.”

He smiled at that, a little embarrassed, and glanced toward the cooler by the far wall. “I’m here early to fill water cups. I like getting everything done before the chaos starts.”

You glanced at the rows of plastic Gatorade cups lined up like soldiers waiting for orders and raised your brows, amused. “You take your job seriously.”

“I try,” he replied with a small shrug. “I’m not on the ice, but it still matters.”

You nodded, watching him for a moment, then turned back to your notebook. “I come early for the quiet,” you said after a pause, almost without thinking. “It’s like…the silence here has texture. It feels like something you can fold yourself into, like a blanket that doesn’t expect anything from you.” He looked at you then, really looked, like he was trying to memorize the way the words left your mouth, the way your eyes stayed downcast even though the thought you’d just spoken hung shimmering in the air like frost on windowpane. There was a flicker in his gaze, surprise, understanding, maybe a touch of admiration. Something tender bloomed between you, unspoken and strange, the way dawn makes you pause even when you’ve seen it a thousand times before.

You talked after that, quietly at first, about nothing and everything. The weather, school, how strange it was to be pulled into something bigger than you without consent. You learned that Jungwon liked history podcasts, that he hated the taste of mint and that he had a younger sister who adored figure skating. You told him about your internship, about your coursework, about the way you sometimes felt like no matter how hard you tried, your father would never see you as someone separate from his plans. And Jungwon listened, nodding, offering soft words that didn’t feel like pity but presence. You didn’t notice when the first skates hit the ice. Didn’t hear the buzz of the locker room doors or the scuffle of blades being adjusted. Time warped, folded into something tender and slow, and it wasn’t until a burst of laughter echoed from the tunnel and the boys began to file in like birds in flight, loud, messy, full of life, that you realized how long you’d been talking.

Your eyes flicked up instinctively, scanning the incoming flood of players, and there, in the midst of them, Jay. He looked good with the morning light painting silver into the dark of his hair, but his gaze was unreadable, distant. For a moment, just a flicker, your eyes met. He didn’t look away this time. But he didn’t smile either. And then the moment was gone, swallowed whole by the whistle of your father calling for warm-ups, the clash of skates against ice, and the ache in your chest that you didn’t want to admit had settled in for good. 

Jay pushed open the doors of the rink with purpose, his duffel slung over one shoulder, skates clinking softly against the strap. The air hit him like a second skin, cold and sharp, the kind of cold that woke you up and carved clarity into your bones. It smelled like ice and effort, like old sweat and tape and victory dreams long since frozen in the boards. The kind of air that said this is where we fight, even if the war is only against the self, against time, against the nagging voice in your head that says you’ll never be enough. The week had been long, coiled tightly around the pressure of expectation. Their first game loomed on Saturday, close enough to taste, close enough that even his sleep had taken on the rhythm of the game, his dreams broken by phantom goals and aching limbs and the roar of a crowd that may or may not come. He was ready. Or at least, he was supposed to be. 

He was lacing himself with determination as he stepped into the rink, threading it into every muscle. His footsteps echoed in the early hour, crisp and measured. He knew his role. Captain. Enforcer of grit and order. No time for softness, no space for distractions. Today was about execution. Focus. Edge. But then he saw you. You were perched on the lower bleachers, a notebook open on your knee, a pen in your hand like a wand drawing invisible maps through the air. You weren’t wearing your headphones this time. You were smiling. That soft, crooked kind of smile that looked rare on you, like something tucked away for safekeeping, only pulled out when no one was supposed to be watching. And you weren’t alone.

There was a boy beside you, shorter than him, younger-looking, with kind eyes and easy laughter, his body angled toward you like a sunflower turning toward the light. Jay hadn’t seen him before, which made something in his chest curl tight and sour. He felt it at once, sharp and unexpected: that gnawing sense of displacement, of not being in on something, of something already being taken. It was ridiculous. He barely knew you. You had spoken what, three times? You’d argued, mostly. Clashed like fire meeting stone. And yet… And yet.

Something about the sight of you sitting there with this stranger stirred up a noise inside him he couldn’t quiet. He told himself it was irritation, annoyance at having his morning disrupted by something irrelevant. That it was just the weight of practice and captaincy and pressure twisting his mood. But he knew the truth. Or at least, he feared it. He was jealous.

Not in the loud, possessive way of boys who’d already claimed something. But in that terrible quiet way that sneaks in when you weren’t even aware you’d begun to care. It crept in through the cracks, through the way you had corrected his stretch without blinking, through the way your fingers had pressed against his knee like a dare, through the way your voice held thunder even when you whispered. He hadn’t meant to remember the shape of your mouth or the way your eyes flared when you were angry. He hadn’t meant to notice the way your laugh sounded reluctant, like it had to fight its way past pain. But he had. And now here you were, smiling at someone else. Someone who made it look so effortless. And Jay, who lived his whole life wrapped in performance and grit and silence, felt, for a moment, like he was drowning in something he couldn’t name.

He tore his gaze away, jaw tight, back straight. He said nothing. Walked past you like you were a ghost and he was a man haunted. But even as the coach called the team to warm up, even as blades began to scratch their war-song into the ice, Jay couldn't help but glance back once more; just once, like a secret. And you were still laughing. God, he hated how beautiful you looked when you weren’t looking at him.

Practice begins like it always does, cold and unrelenting, the sound of skates slashing against ice like knives against glass, every player carving their hunger into the rink, hungry for speed, precision, and that brutal dance of dominance. You sit at the edge of it all, notebook in hand, eyes trained like a lighthouse beam over the curling mist of motion. The air bites, numbing fingers through your gloves, but your mind is sharp, cutting through every stride and swing with the precision of a scalpel. Your gaze is calculating, watching the way Sunghoon adjusts for his healing leg, the way Heeseung still hunches slightly too much on his left shoulder, compensating with poor posture. But today, something feels… off. Unsettled, like the silence before a storm when the trees go still and the birds forget to sing. 

And it doesn’t take long for you to realize that the eye of that storm is Jay. Jay, whose presence on the ice is usually a poem in motion, a wolf weaving through wind, disciplined and razor-focused. Jay, who has always worn his title of captain like a stitched-on second skin, no room for error, no time for weakness. But now, he’s fraying at the edges. There’s something in the way he’s skating that makes your breath catch, a subtle stutter in his turns, a tension in his shoulders, like he’s being chased by something no one else can see. His movements are all wrong, off by mere seconds, fractions of angles, but wrong nonetheless. You notice his hesitation, how he favors the leg he’s always guarded like a secret. His eyes aren’t focused, not really. They’re vacant, elsewhere, like his mind is pacing in some far-off room, and his body is merely a ghost skating through the motions. 

You frown, gripping your pen tighter, every instinct in you whispering a quiet warning. And then it happens. It’s not theatrical, no loud snap of bone, no scream echoing through the rink, but it is enough to silence the room. Jay goes down, a crack of imbalance catching in the middle of a play. His skate catches on the edge of a turn, his body unable to compensate in time, and suddenly he’s hitting the ice hard, elbow first, knee twisted beneath him in a tangle of velocity and weight. The sound he makes is more frustration than pain, but it’s guttural, and it sinks into your bones like cold water. He stays down for a heartbeat too long. Long enough for every eye to turn toward him. Long enough for your own lungs to forget how to breathe. 

And when he finally rises, it’s with a sharp grimace and a tight jaw. He limps, not dramatically, but noticeably, dragging pride along with that wounded leg as he makes his way to the bench. You’re already up before your mind can catch up, your body drawn to him by something magnetic, something wordless and inevitable. You clutch your notebook to your chest, knuckles white, as you cross the ice’s edge with quick strides. By the time you reach him, Jay has torn his helmet off and flung it against the bench with a metallic clatter, the sound echoing like a gunshot. His gloves are off next, thrown down in a storm of self-loathing. He mutters curses under his breath, short and sharp, like they’re meant to punish the very air he breathes. His hair is a mess of sweat-damp strands, stuck to his forehead, and his eyes are wild, filled with that raw, reckless anger that has nothing to do with pain and everything to do with pride.

You don’t say anything at first. You simply sit down beside him, close but not too close, letting the silence stretch thin and humming between you. Letting him cool like a blade just pulled from fire. You watch him from the corner of your eye, the way his chest heaves, the clench of his fists, the storm tightening and loosening behind his gaze. And finally, when the heat of the moment has dulled to a quiet ache, you speak. “I’ll need to look at that knee after practice.”

Your voice is soft. Not gentle, not coddling, just calm. Firm in that way that says you’re not asking for permission, but not picking a fight either. You expect the pushback, the snide remark, the roll of his eyes, the stubborn “I’m fine” that he usually keeps locked and loaded. But it doesn’t come. Jay doesn’t argue. He just nods, curt and silent, like something inside him has cracked open a little too wide to bother trying to hold it all in. Like he’s tired of fighting everything, including himself. 

You don’t press him further. You don’t say what you’re thinking, that he’s been off since the moment he walked in, that you saw him watching you earlier with that dark, unreadable look. That you can feel the jealousy clinging to him like smoke. You don’t say that maybe you understand a little too well what it means to be someone who feels everything too much and yet can’t say a word of it aloud. You just sit with him, watching the other players file back onto the ice like nothing happened, like the world didn’t just tilt slightly off its axis. And in that quiet, in that fragile space between heat and healing, something unspoken passes between you.

You glance down at his knee, at the way he’s holding it like he’s not sure if he can trust it anymore. And your hands itch to help. To touch. To fix. Not just the bruises in his body but the ones buried in places far deeper, places that you, too, have learned to protect like sacred, broken things. Practice continues without him, Coach barking out instructions, pucks ricocheting off the boards, skates slicing like silver across the white. But the two of you remain seated, tucked just slightly out of reach from the rest of the world, bound together not by words but by silence and circumstance and a tangle of emotions too complex to name. You jot down a few notes in your book, pen gliding mindlessly now, thoughts half-drowned in the electricity that hums quietly between your shoulder and his. 

Jay leans back, rubbing his hands over his face like he’s trying to scrub something out of his thoughts. And you don’t look at him, not directly. But you feel him there, beside you, in the weight of his breathing and the simmer of his presence. You wonder if he feels it too, the way the space between your knees barely touches, the way your shoulders almost brush, the way every breath you take feels just slightly heavier because of him. 

After practice, the rink is quieter now, emptied of the thunderous rhythm of blades on ice, the thudding pulse of pucks striking boards, the boyish laughter and the barking drills. The fluorescent lights above buzz faintly, a tired orchestra of static and hum that fills the cavernous space with a ghostly kind of stillness. You sit cross-legged on the bench, notebook splayed open like a journal of war wounds, a ledger of flaws you’re determined to help fix. Jay is beside you, not quite close, not quite distant, but sitting with the kind of posture that speaks of restlessness buried deep in muscle and bone. The kind that no stretch can ease. You glance sideways, pencil poised above the page, waiting for the conversation to start, for him to meet you halfway. But he doesn’t. He’s there in body only, shoulders drawn taut beneath his hoodie, jaw clenched, eyes fixed somewhere out past the rink walls like he's seeing something far, far away. Something he won’t share.

You clear your throat softly, trying not to let the irritation creep into your tone. “Are you even listening?” you ask, voice light, teasing almost, but there’s an edge there, a sharpness hidden behind the casual. “Because if you don’t care about getting better before the game, then we’re wasting our time.” Still, no answer. Just the faint sound of him shifting his weight, his knee probably still throbbing beneath his clothes, though he refuses to complain. Jay has always worn pain like a badge, never seeking sympathy, only challenge. But this, this silence, it isn’t stubbornness. It’s something else. Something quieter, more personal. It feels like a wall rising up between you again after you’d both spent so long trying to tear it down with quiet gestures and silent understanding. You set your notebook down slowly, turning to look at him fully now. And that’s when he speaks.

“Who was that boy you were talking to in the beginning of practice?” His voice isn’t biting, not sharp or mocking like you expected. It’s careful, too careful, like he’s trying to sound casual but failing entirely. It lands in the space between you like a stone in still water, sending ripples that reach far deeper than he’ll admit. And for a moment, you just stare at him, lips parting slightly in confusion, the question catching you so off guard you almost forget to breathe. 

You blink. “Jungwon?”

There’s a pause. A beat that stretches too long. Then: “Yeah. Him.”

You furrow your brow, unsure whether to laugh or scold him. “What does that matter?” Jay shrugs with the lazy grace of someone pretending not to care, but you see the way his fingers twitch against his knee, the way his jaw ticks slightly. He’s too composed for someone who's supposedly just ‘curious.’ His eyes don’t meet yours now. Instead, he busies himself with examining the tape on his wrist, like it holds answers he’s too afraid to find in your face. 

You narrow your gaze. “That’s not really any of your business, you know.” And there it is, the truth unsaid, the fragile line you both keep walking. The tension coiling beneath every word you speak to each other, a dance of proximity and avoidance. His eyes finally lift to meet yours, something unreadable in them. A spark of something you can’t name. Not yet.

He shrugs again, but this time it feels like armor. “Didn’t say it was. Just… wondered.” You exhale, the sound heavy with frustration, but not just at him. At yourself. At how quickly your chest tightened when he asked. At how easily you could read between the lines of his too-casual tone. You pick up your notebook again with shaking fingers, trying to will the heat from your face, trying to shove the moment back into something clinical, something safe.

“Well,” you say after a pause, voice clipped as you flip a page, “I’d like to get back to your stretches now, if you don’t mind.” Jay doesn’t respond immediately. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, head tilted slightly toward you. He watches the side of your face like he’s trying to memorize it, trying to see something in your profile that you won’t say out loud. But he doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask again. Just lets the silence stretch between you like a fraying thread. And still, even in the stillness, you feel the weight of him beside you like a gravity pulling at the edges of your restraint.

You begin to talk again, reciting what needs to be done, which muscles he needs to target, what angles he needs to avoid to stop aggravating the joint. But your voice sounds strange to you now, too tight, too careful, like it’s been dressed in armor. You glance up briefly and catch him staring again, not at your hands, not at your notes, but at you. Always at you. 

Time stretches, slow and sticky like sap from a wounded tree, as you move through the remainder of your notes, explaining each stretch again in patient, measured tones. Your voice is soft but firm, the kind of gentle insistence that comes from knowing what you’re talking about and caring too much to be dismissed. Jay listens this time, even if his expression is unreadable, more shadows than light. He sits with his back curved, eyes lowered, brow furrowed in a quiet storm of frustration and focus. You ask him if he’s been doing the stretches you assigned and his reply is a low grumble, almost a growl, as if admitting defeat to the air rather than to you. 

“Tried,” he mutters, voice roughened by pride and something he can’t quite name, “but they hurt more than they helped.” 

You sigh, the sound carrying a weight that doesn’t belong solely to this moment. You kneel before him, brushing your hair behind your ears like a soldier tying back their banner before battle. “Then you were doing them wrong,” you reply, the words not scolding but certain, like the slow unfolding of spring after a bitter winter. You rise and move toward him, slipping into the space beside his seated form on the bench, your fingers brushing over his wrist gently as you coax him to stand. He obeys, but not without reluctance, the kind of resistance that doesn’t come from distrust, but from something deeper, something tangled in his own ribs, knotted in the cords of his heart. You demonstrate the posture again, turning slightly to show how your knee aligns with your hip, how the stretch should feel like a pull and not a tear. But as you step back to make room for him to try it, your foot catches on the edge of your own bag, traitorous and silent, and suddenly the world tilts. You flail forward with a gasp, arms reaching for something solid, and Jay catches you before your body can meet the cold, uncaring floor.

His arms come around you swiftly, instinctually, like muscle memory, like he’s caught you a thousand times before in dreams he doesn’t remember. His breath escapes him in a hiss as the movement jars his knee, and you gasp in tandem, both of you locked in a suspended, breathless moment of mutual alarm. You straighten in his hold, hands resting lightly against his chest now, your palms splayed over the steady drumbeat of his heart. It’s only then that you realize he’s still holding you. And you’re still letting him. For a heartbeat; no, for a whole symphony of heartbeats, you don't move.

His arms, warm and trembling ever so slightly, are wrapped securely around your waist. His eyes, dark and lit with something you can’t quite decipher, stare down into yours with an intensity that steals the air right out of your lungs. The fluorescent lights above seem to fade, casting the moment in a softer glow, as though time itself has folded inward and left only this suspended pocket where nothing exists but you and him. And then, without even thinking, without fully realizing what your body has decided, you begin to lean in.

Your breath catches. His lashes lower. The world narrows to the mere inches of space between your mouths. You can feel the heat of him, his breath, the soft rustle of the fabric at his collar, the barely-there tremble in his hold. You’re close enough now to see the faint freckle at the corner of his jaw, the smudge of tiredness beneath his eyes, the scar just above his brow. You are close enough to kiss him. And you want to. God, you want to. But just as your lips begin to close the distance, just as the air tilts toward something irrevocable, Jay turns his head sharply to the side. You freeze. Mid-motion. Mid-breath.

He clears his throat awkwardly, a hand coming up to grip your arm, not harsh, but firm enough to guide you back to earth. “Sorry,” he mutters, almost too quiet to hear. “I — my knee, I shouldn’t be holding you like that.” And then, carefully, gently, like you’re made of spun glass or secrets too delicate to break, he sets you down on your own two feet again.

The warmth leaves you immediately, as though someone has opened a window to let in the cold. You step back, confused and suddenly small, the edges of your confidence curling in on themselves like burning paper. You blink down at your shoes, cheeks heating, pulse racing as if your body hasn’t quite caught up to the rejection your heart just received. “Is there anything else you want me to do?” he asks, his voice quieter now, strained and formal. He doesn’t look at you.

You hesitate, your throat tight, your pride frayed. You shake your head, a whisper caught in your chest. “No. That’s… that’s all for now.”

Jay nods, expression unreadable once more, a mask of cool indifference pulled over the face of a boy who just looked at you like you were made of starlight. “I better get going then.” You say nothing. You can’t. You watch as he limps slowly away, each step echoing like a closing door, like a heartbeat fading in the dark. And then he’s gone.

You sit down slowly, notebook still open in your lap, pages fluttering in the draft he left behind. The silence that fills the rink is different now, thicker somehow, as if it holds echoes of things unsaid. And you’re left there alone, heart stinging, face warm with humiliation, and a bitter taste blooming at the back of your tongue. You want to scream, or laugh, or cry, or maybe all three. But instead, you sit there with your hands still trembling slightly, wondering what exactly just happened. Wondering if it meant something. Wondering why it couldn’t.

The days pass like breath caught in your throat, never quite exhaled, never quite released. You keep your head down, hands busy, heart shelved like an old book collecting dust behind your ribs. You move through practice with the cold efficiency of someone who knows what they’re doing and refuses to be shaken by sentiment; at least not anymore. If Jay notices the way you don’t linger by the benches anymore, or how your gaze drifts anywhere but in his direction, he doesn’t say anything. Or maybe he does notice, maybe he notices everything and simply doesn’t know what to do with it, with you, with the heavy silence left in your wake. You’ve found a temporary anchor in Sunghoon, who’s been limping slightly on his left leg for a few practices now. He’s easier to work with, smiling, receptive, appreciative without crossing invisible lines. You offer him techniques, adjustments, reminders to ice and rest. He listens. He thanks you. And though your mind drifts back to Jay more times than you’d like to admit, flashing in those brief seconds between movements, appearing like a shadow every time you blink, you push those thoughts down, burying them like seeds in winter soil. 

But you notice.

Of course you notice.

Jay’s limp, though masked well beneath his stubborn pride and athletic grace, returns the day before the first game. Subtle to the untrained eye, just the slightest falter in his stride, the tiniest hesitation when he pivots too hard on his left side. It cuts through your self-imposed indifference like a blade, sharp, inevitable. You clench your jaw, fists tightening around your clipboard, war playing out behind your eyes. You don’t want to care. You don’t want to still care. But here you are, caring anyway. Coach calls for a ten-minute break, his voice echoing through the rink like a church bell, and you take that sound as your cue. You move toward Jay without thinking, clipboard held like a shield, resolve coiled tight in your chest. You tell yourself you’re here to be professional, that this is part of your job, that your heart is nothing but a quiet organ beating behind your ribs, it has no business interfering with tendons and joints and routines. Jay sits on the edge of the bench, pulling at the tape around his wrists, and your shadow falls over him before your voice does.

“I noticed your limp’s back,” you say, even and clinical, like you’re reading out symptoms from a chart instead of acknowledging the ache that’s been burning a hole in your chest for days. You don’t look at him. You can’t. He straightens slightly, wiping sweat from his temple with the back of his glove. “I’ve been doing the stretches.”

You nod once, still focused on your clipboard, though the words blur and bleed together on the page. “Before tomorrow’s game, stretch early and ice immediately after,” you say. “Don’t skip it.” He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s waiting for something more, like he’s holding something in his mouth, something fragile that might shatter if he breathes too hard. Then, carefully, his voice cracks the air between you like a pebble on glass.

“About the other day in the locker room—” Your spine stiffens. Your pulse stumbles. But you don’t let your mask falter. Instead, you cut in, your voice brisk and precise.

“I was thinking we could try a different form of therapy,” you say. “Something that focuses more on low-impact stretches and deep tissue. It might help more long-term.”

He exhales, and it’s not frustration or anger; it’s confusion, maybe even hurt. “That’s not what I was going to—” 

“It’s fine,” you say, and this time your voice does falter, just slightly, like a violin string pulled too tight. “You don’t have to explain. It was clear.” His mouth opens. You keep going. “You don’t feel the same way,” you say, and now your eyes lift, finally meeting his. And it’s a terrible thing, because he’s looking at you like he doesn’t understand the words coming out of your mouth, like he’s never been more stunned in his life. But you don’t let yourself get swept up in it. You keep your voice level, sharp with embarrassment, honed by the weeks of silence and avoidance and pretending. “I’d appreciate it,” you say, and your voice is soft now, almost breaking, “if you wouldn’t bring it up again. Just… spare me the humiliation, okay?”

And then, before he can speak, before he can call out your name or reach for you or cast another look that might make your knees weak, you turn and walk away. The sound of your boots on the ice-polished floor is the only thing you hear. Not the beat of your heart, not the breath caught in your throat, not the echo of your name behind you, only the silence that follows you like a shroud, thick and unyielding. You walk until the cold air bites at your cheeks and the rink fades behind you. You walk until you are just a girl again, alone in the echoing hallway, heart bleeding quietly inside your chest. 

Finally, It’s game day. 

The air feels heavy with electricity, like something important is about to break. The rink is abuzz with the quiet war-drum of preparation, sticks clacking against the ground, skates carving soft grooves into rubber, the rustle of jerseys being pulled on like armor before a battle. You stand in the back corner of the locker room, tucked away from the fray but still inside its rhythm, your clipboard abandoned for now, your laughter light and warm as it floats into the stale air. Jungwon is beside you, easy company with a boyish grin and a kind sort of curiosity that doesn’t ask for anything more than what you’re willing to give. His presence is uncomplicated, a balm to the storm that’s been churning in your chest for the past week. He’s cracking jokes, a little sharp but clever, and you laugh freely for once, like the sound doesn’t cost you anything. There’s something about today that feels strange though, like you’re standing at the edge of something. A precipice. A cliff with no railing.

Jungwon nudges your shoulder with his, eyes twinkling with mischief as he leans in to whisper something only you can hear, something stupid about the way Heeseung tapes his socks too tight or how Jake brought his baby’s pacifier instead of his water bottle. You giggle into your hand, shoulders shaking, just in time for a voice, deep, commanding, like thunder cracked through a glass sky, to slice through the locker room. “Huddle up.” Everyone moves instantly.

Jay’s voice is unrecognizable from the one you’ve grown accustomed to, the one laced with sarcasm or irritation or those low, quiet murmurs you’ve only ever heard in the in-between moments when it was just the two of you. No, this voice is a war cry. It’s sharp and magnetic, dragging the eyes and ears of every player to him like he’s the only sun in the room and they’re just desperate, orbiting things. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you exhale. Jay stands in the center of the locker room, tall and broad, chin tipped up, one fist closed around his helmet and the other gesturing with subtle but unshakable control. His dark hair is damp and pushed back, beads of sweat just beginning to prick along his brow from the warm-up, and his eyes are twin daggers, focused, deadly. You realize, then, that this is Jay as captain, Jay in his final form, Jay as the version of himself that eats pressure for breakfast and spits out excellence. You’ve never really seen him like this. And it hits you square in the chest. 

God, he’s beautiful like this. Beautiful and terrifying. Like lightning dancing across a frozen lake. Like something wild that could burn you alive if you got too close. You stand frozen, wide-eyed, caught in a kind of reverent silence that only deepens when Jungwon leans close again, voice low and teasing: “You’re staring.” You laugh — too loud, too quick, startled out of your daze, and that’s when it happens. Jay stumbles. Not on his feet, no, his posture stays rigid, his stance the same, but the words in his mouth, once flowing like riverwater, trip over themselves. A stutter, subtle but jarring, breaks the air like a skipped heartbeat. You blink, confused at first, and then you follow the line of his gaze; his eyes locked directly, unflinchingly, on you. Your laughter dies in your throat.

Jay looks away fast, like your face was too bright, too blinding. He shakes his head once, hard, trying to dislodge whatever momentary ghost took hold of him, and when he speaks again, his voice is firm and clean. No cracks. No hesitation. But the pause, the falter, it lingers in the air like perfume. And everyone felt it. Maybe they don’t know what it means, but you do. Oh, you do. You stand a little straighter, Jungwon now just a shadow beside you as your focus returns wholly, helplessly, to Jay. He commands the huddle with renewed authority, drawing the team in like stars around a sun. And still, beneath all that composure, you know it, you can feel it, the tension that thrums in the silence between his words. The weight of what was left unsaid in that locker room. The awkwardness of that almost-kiss, that half-second eternity where your heart had leapt and his had pulled back. You wonder if he feels it too.

When he finishes the pep talk, the team breaks with a unified roar, sticks thudding against the benches, skates scraping as they rise to storm the ice, but Jay doesn’t look your way again. Not once. He keeps his gaze forward, unyielding, captain-steady. And yet, for that one fractured breath, he’d looked at you like you were the only thing in the room. Like maybe the words he couldn’t say had filled his mouth all at once and rendered him speechless. And it lingers. Like smoke after fire.

The arena is alive. Electric. It thrums with the kind of energy that only belongs to game night, shouts and whistles, sneakers scraping against concrete, the distant reverberation of blades cutting across frozen ice like poetry etched in glass. The crowd swells and hollers and surges in waves like a storm kept just barely at bay, but you, you are still. Poised at the edge of the chaos, pen between your fingers and a notebook cradled in your lap like it holds the whole universe. You’re supposed to be calm. Collected. Clinical. But beneath the soft tap of your pen against paper, your pulse is racing like something wild caged beneath your skin. They’re doing it. They’re actually doing it.

Every note you wrote, every correction you whispered beneath fluorescent locker room lights, every careful observation you tucked into the quiet margins of your planner, it’s breathing now. It’s real. The team is moving like a single beast, every shift on the ice more seamless than the last. Their passes are tight, clean, threaded like silver through the seams of the opposing defense. Their positioning is sharp, adjusted just as you suggested, and Jay, God, Jay is a storm in motion, skating with such relentless precision it nearly makes you dizzy to watch. There’s a moment when he pivots on a dime, receives a pass from Jake, and nails a slap shot that rockets straight past the goalie’s glove with a sound like thunder, echoing, undeniable, final. The whole crowd erupts. And your chest swells with pride so fierce you forget to breathe for a second. You don’t cheer. You don’t scream. You don’t jump up and throw your arms around like the rest of the spectators who are all giddy limbs and painted cheeks. But your smile; quiet, soft, almost secret, could light the whole rink. 

There’s a strange ache in the joy. Because it’s not just about the win. It’s the knowledge that they trusted you enough to listen. That the time you’ve spent, invisible and tireless, is finally seen in the way they skate, in the way they communicate on the ice like a language you helped translate. And maybe, just maybe, you matter here, something more than a daughter, something more than a placeholder. You’re part of the architecture. The bones beneath the flesh. Jungwon darts past you in a blur, a clipboard under one arm and a trainer’s bag in the other, his cheeks pink from exertion. You call out something teasing, and he shoots back a reply that makes you snort into your scarf, the two of you slipping into that easy rhythm that’s started to settle between you, like an echo, like something familiar that never needed to be explained. He’s good at what he does, even if he’s still learning. And there’s something charming in his eagerness, his instinct to over-prepare, to over-perform. You can’t help but admire it. He’s not trying to impress you, and maybe that’s why it’s so refreshing to be around him. He doesn’t want anything from you that you aren’t willing to give. 

You glance to your left where Heeseung and Sunghoon’s girlfriends are perched on the edge of their seats, wrapped in puffy coats and scarves and radiant with adrenaline. They’re shouting their boys’ names at full volume, jumping and gasping and squealing at every near miss and every stolen goal. Normally, the noise would drive you crazy, but there’s something endearing about the way their voices crack when they cheer. You watch one of them grab the other’s arm and shake her when Sunghoon skates too close to the boards, laughing like she’s afraid and thrilled all at once. There’s love in it. Raw and sweet and loud. You wonder, absently, what it must be like to feel that kind of closeness, to wear your heart on your sleeve without fear of how hard it might be broken.

And still, your eyes find him. Jay.

Every time you think you’ve pulled yourself out of the orbit of his gravity, your gaze is drawn back like a tide to the moon. He skates with his teeth gritted and his shoulders tight, every movement packed with intensity. He’s not reckless, but he’s ferocious, like something is burning behind his eyes and this is the only way he knows how to put out the fire. You see the slight limp in his stride, the subtle favoring of his left leg, but he masks it well, well enough that your father hasn’t caught on, but you notice. Of course you do. You know him too well now, even if you pretend you don’t. Your fingers tighten on your pen. There’s a moment when he looks toward the bench during a shift change, breath fogging up in the cold, jaw clenched. His eyes sweep the stands, and for a breathless second, you swear they land on you. You sit frozen. His gaze holds, unreadable. And then, he’s gone again, swallowed up by the game. You pretend not to notice the flutter in your chest.

The scoreboard blinks and buzzes, a mechanical hymn to their success, and the crowd surges forward in delight. The game marches on, and you try to return to your notes, to professionalism, to detachment. But it’s hard when your hands are trembling, not from cold, but from something far more dangerous. From hope. From confusion. From want.

The air is electric in the aftermath of victory. The walls of the locker room hum with the echoes of triumph, whoops ricocheting off metal lockers, the sharp clatter of skates being kicked off, towels slapping wet skin, voices riding high on adrenaline and pride. It smells like sweat and ice and something more sacred, like the echo of glory, like the start of something golden. The boys move through the space like kings returning from battle, bumping shoulders and laughing with that rare kind of joy that only comes from shared struggle turned into triumph. Heeseung’s lopsided grin is as bright as the scoreboard, his arm slung over Jake’s shoulder as he recounts a moment on the ice with exaggerated flair. Jay gets the loudest praise, backs patted, hands clapped, helmets nudged against his in celebration. He stands at the center of it all, looking like something carved out of fire and iron, stoic and silent, but there’s a glimmer in his eye that betrays the satisfaction he won’t speak aloud. You keep your distance.

It’s become your safe place, that edge-of-the-room observation. You smile when spoken to, you nod when needed, you laugh when the jokes make their way to you, but your heart is folded up tightly, tucked beneath the quiet task in front of you. You’re kneeling by the therapy corner, setting up Jay’s post-game ice bath, something you insisted on weeks ago when the limp first returned, something he never complained about, not even after the... moment between you. The container is half full already, the ice bucket humming beside you as cubes tumble in with mechanical rhythm. Your fingers are cold from testing the water, your breath fogs lightly in the sterile air, but your mind is far, far away, adrift on memories of locker room silence, almost-kisses, and the sound of his voice when it turned soft for you and only you. Most of the team is gone now, filing out with damp hair and open jackets, loud voices echoing down the hall. Even Jungwon gives you a wave goodbye before disappearing with your father to inventory the equipment one last time. You murmur your farewell, gaze flickering, pulse steady. Or at least it was, until the warmth of a hand wraps suddenly around your elbow. 

You startle, spinning halfway as a gasp lifts in your chest, but it’s Jay. His hand is firm but not rough, callused fingers pressing into the crook of your arm as if trying to tether you to the moment. The look on his face is unreadable, carved from stormclouds and moonlight. You straighten, trying to compose yourself, your lips parting for a question you never get the chance to voice. He cuts you off before it can form. “Are you dating Jungwon?”

The words are sharp and blunt at once, like being struck with something soft but heavy. You blink up at him, confusion furrowing your brows, heart stuttering in your chest. “What?” you manage, voice more breath than word, but he interrupts again, more urgent this time. 

“Just, please. Are you dating Yang Jungwon or not?” There’s something vulnerable hidden behind the edge of his voice, something frayed and fierce. He looks at you like the answer might shatter him, like he’s already halfway broken by the not knowing. 

You shake your head. “No,” you whisper. “Not that it’s any of your business.” But he doesn’t seem to hear that last part. Or maybe he does, and chooses to ignore it entirely. His eyes are still locked on yours, black as night and brimming with something you don’t yet have the language to name. Something heavy. Something real. He leans in. Not fast, not abrupt, no. Jay moves like he’s afraid to break the air between you. Like every inch is sacred. Like he’s measuring the distance to your mouth with centuries of longing compressed in his chest. And when his face is so close that his breath brushes yours, he murmurs, “Say the word, and I’ll stop.” It’s the gentlest threat you’ve ever heard. The sweetest cliff you’ve ever been asked to jump from. But you don’t stop him.

And when his lips finally meet yours, soft and uncertain and tender in a way that rips the breath from your lungs, it’s not fireworks that you feel. It’s silence. That same kind of silence you chase in the early mornings. That rare, impossible peace that only exists when the world forgets to spin. His kiss is reverent, hesitant, but aching beneath its restraint. It tastes like all the things he’s been trying not to feel, all the things he thought he wasn’t allowed to want. You make a sound, small and startled and aching, and then you're leaning into him, reaching up, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you let go. He kisses you again, deeper this time, and everything unravels. His hand finds your waist, the other rising to cradle your jaw like something precious, something fragile. You feel your back press against the wall as he walks you backward, the air around you thick with want. He kisses like a man who’s been waiting too long, like he’s trying to memorize you, like he wants to carve the shape of your mouth into the backs of his eyelids. And then it gets deeper, hotter.

His body presses into yours, anchoring you to the wall with a force that makes your breath catch, that makes your knees feel untrustworthy. His lips trail down to the edge of your jaw, your throat, breath warm and desperate. You arch into him, eyes fluttering shut, drowning in the scent of him, sweat, cedarwood soap, something uniquely him that drives you mad with the simplicity of it. But then, he pulls back. He lets go with a gentleness that makes the moment worse, like the kiss had been holy and ending it was sacrilege. He exhales slowly, still so close his breath dances across your skin.

“Is there anything else you want me to do?” he says quietly, his voice low, almost pained.

“Keep going.” You breathe, the air shot from your lungs as his mouth found yours once again, soft but urgent. Like he was giving himself to you slowly and deeply, like his heart was a locked box with the key now in your hands. 

The kiss deepens, not in haste but in gravity, as if time itself has bent its laws to accommodate the want simmering between you. Jay’s hands are a prayer pressed against your waist, the curve of your jaw, the span of your back as if committing you to memory beneath his palms. He kisses you like you’re not just a girl but a revelation, like he's been wandering ice-covered roads for years and you’re the first warmth he's felt. His body shields yours from the cold tile of the locker room wall, and you can feel every inch of him, tense and trembling with the weight of restraint, of something that borders on reverence. You’re gasping softly into him, losing all sense of place, of direction, of anything that isn’t the taste of his mouth and the staccato rhythm of your pulse thundering between your ribs.

There is nothing polite about this desire, it is vast and raw and aching, a tether pulled taut between you, stretched across every stolen glance and unsaid word since the first time he looked at you and didn’t speak. Every second of tension in the past weeks has culminated in this: the electricity when your bodies align, the reverberation of heat low in your belly, the way his lips move against yours like he’s not just kissing you; he’s trying to say something in a language only the two of you can understand. And then, The sharp groan of a door creaking open cleaves the moment like a blade through silk.

You both jolt as if shocked by lightning, Jay stepping back just enough to break the kiss, though his hands linger at your sides, still warm, still trembling. Your breath catches in your throat as you both snap toward the sound, and there, standing frozen in the doorway, is Soobin. Tall, sweet-faced Soobin, with wide eyes and a half-twist of a smirk he’s trying (and failing) to suppress. “I was just coming to get my water bottle…” he says, his voice pitched high with embarrassment, words slow and uncertain like they’re skating across black ice. He gestures vaguely toward the benches, where his half-drained bottle sits beside a crumpled towel.

Jay doesn’t move. Neither do you. You’re still pressed up against the wall, lips flushed, heart a living drumbeat in your throat. The silence stretches out, taut and teetering on awkwardness. Finally, Jay gives a tight nod, measured, unreadable. Soobin grabs his bottle in the silence that follows. “I’m gonna go… good game,” he mumbles, already halfway out the door before the sentence finishes falling from his mouth. And then he’s gone, leaving nothing but the click of the door echoing in his wake and a sudden rush of cold air that feels like the world snapping back into its natural order. And for a second, the tension remains suspended, like a note left hanging at the end of a song.

Laughter. 

It bubbles up inside you so quickly you can’t hold it back. It starts as a breathy exhale, then spills out of you in waves, warm and full and uncontrolled. You lean forward slightly, your head falling against Jay’s chest, laughter shaking through your ribs. It's the kind of laugh that comes only after a release of something heavy, something long held in, the absurdity of the moment, the sweetness of it, the fact that you were just caught making out with Jay in the locker room like a scene pulled from the pages of some high school drama. You can’t stop. Jay watches you for a beat, stunned and dazed, and then a smile slowly curves across his lips. His own laugh escapes like a sigh of relief, low and rich, a sound like melting snow in spring. His arms circle your waist again, tugging you close, and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck for a moment like he’s trying to hide from how much he’s smiling. You feel the sound of his joy vibrate against your collarbone and it feels so impossibly intimate you almost tear up. When the laughter fades, you look up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.

Jay reaches out, tender and slow, and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing the shell of it like a secret. His touch is feather-light, reverent, and it stills something wild in you. You swear the whole room stills with it. He leans in again, but this time it’s gentle, slow. No rush. No chaos. Just him, kissing you like you’re the calm in his storm. His lips move over yours with a softness that makes your eyes flutter shut, with a quiet longing that tastes of something deeper; something that might become love if left to bloom.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. His breath is soft, his voice even softer. “Good night,” he murmurs, a whisper sealed against your skin, a kiss wrapped in syllables. And then he steps back. Not far. Just enough. His eyes hold yours for a moment longer, and then he turns and walks toward the exit, leaving you still leaning against the locker room wall, your lips tingling, your heart dancing somewhere halfway to the moon.

You don’t move right away. You just stand there, smiling like a girl who has a secret no one else knows, eyes dazed and warm and so full of something sweet it could carry you away. You’re on cloud nine, weightless, golden, floating. And maybe, just maybe, starting to fall.

The night air wraps around them like a loose scarf, warm enough to leave their jackets slung lazily over their shoulders as they leave the arena, the scent of ice and sweat still clinging to their skin like ghosts from the game. Their footsteps echo on the pavement, scuffed sneakers and boots dragging over gravel and cracks, their voices a low current of triumph and teasing that rides on the heels of victory. Jay walks with Jake on his left, Heeseung and Sunghoon trailing a step behind, their laughter low and lazy, the kind of carefree sound that always blooms after a win. There’s a looseness to them, shoulders unknotted, mouths grinning wide, and Jay finds himself smiling too, just enough, just the corners of his mouth, but there’s a subtle difference in the curve of his lips. Because while they talk about the game, about Sunghoon’s near goal, about the idiot who almost got benched for not backchecking, Jay’s thoughts are stuck in the locker room, with your lips against his, your laughter blooming like a secret in the hollow of his chest.

Jake throws an arm over Jay’s shoulders, leaning into him as they walk. “So,” he says, voice drawn out and heavy with mischief, “we thinking post-game celebration at the house? Open invite? You know… keep the momentum alive.” 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Jay murmurs, brushing a hand through his hair, still damp from his quick rinse after the game. “Maybe we invite… her,” he adds, not daring to say your name but letting it hover like perfume in the air, thick and noticeable. Heeseung, ever the perceptive one, arches a brow, lips quirking into a half-smile that says he’s already ten steps ahead. “Her, huh?” he echoes with a lilt of curiosity and amusement, shooting a look over Jay’s shoulder. “You mean Coach’s daughter?”

Jay just smirks, the kind of smirk meant to deflect without answering, one corner of his mouth curling while his eyes give away nothing. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he says casually, like it’s a motto, a rule etched into his spine. Jake lets out a low laugh, nudging Jay in the ribs, his grin all teeth. “Guess Coach’s orders don’t apply to the golden boy, huh?” And that’s when it hits. The truth of it. 

Jay’s smile falters, not dramatically, not so much that anyone watching would think he’d been struck, but inwardly, he feels the fault line open just beneath his ribs. For a brief moment, he’d forgotten. Forgotten that you weren’t just you. That you were Coach’s daughter. That there was a silent border etched in the ice between what was allowed and what wasn’t. That all this, the kiss, the way his heart had lunged forward at the sound of your laughter, the heat that had stirred when you leaned into him, wasn’t just a risk. It was forbidden. He’d let himself feel weightless with you, floating in the space of almost, and now gravity pulls him back down with a vengeance.

Sunghoon sees the shift, quick as a cut. His eyes sharpen, his joking tone dropped like a stone. “Oh no,” he says, not unkindly, but with an edge of understanding that slices clean. “Coach doesn’t know, does he?” 

Jay shakes his head, once, the movement short and stiff. His jaw flexes. “There’s nothing to know,” he says, too quickly. Then again, slower. “It means nothing.” A beat passes. It’s the kind of sentence meant to close a door, but it doesn’t quite shut. It hangs there in the air between them, fragile and unconvincing, like a paper shield against a rising tide. Jake looks over at him, not buying it. Heeseung doesn’t say anything, but the raise of his brow deepens, a silent accusation or maybe just concern. And Sunghoon, ever observant, watches Jay like someone looking at a puzzle with one corner piece missing.

Jay stares straight ahead, jaw clenched, heart dragging behind his ribcage like an anchor. The truth echoes loud in his head, though he won’t speak it: it didn’t mean nothing. It meant everything. The way your lips trembled against his, the way your laughter cracked something open in him, the way he felt more like himself, more like someone he didn’t have to guard, when you looked at him with those eyes that didn’t expect him to be the captain, or the golden boy, or anything but just… Jay. But he says nothing. Because what can he say? That he kissed the one girl he’s been told to stay away from? That in the span of a few moments, he’s already losing the fight against the feelings he wasn’t supposed to have?

So instead, he settles for silence. The kind that tastes like regret and fear all at once. The guys let it go, at least on the surface. They start talking again, lighter topics, shallow water. The conversation shifts toward what drinks to bring, who to invite, how late to stay up. But Jay barely registers it. He’s lost inside himself now, knee-deep in thoughts he can't outrun. The stars overhead glimmer faintly, veiled by the streetlamps and campus haze. He thinks of you again, of how soft your lips were, of the gentle way you laughed like you had the sun inside you, of how your hands felt when they pressed against his chest like a heartbeat, unsure and wanting. And beneath all of it, like the faint growl of distant thunder, he hears your father’s voice. The warning. The rule. And wonders just how far he’s willing to fall to keep touching the one thing he was never supposed to have.

Still, he picks up his phone and sends you a text. Even if it was wrong, it felt right.

You step through the threshold of the frat house like a swimmer entering the ocean at dusk, hesitant, but pulled in by the current of something irresistible. The air is thick with warmth, buzzing with music that pounds like a second heartbeat beneath your ribs. The lights are dim, golden and hazy like candle flames through whiskey-stained glass. Laughter echoes against the walls, tangled with the clatter of red plastic cups and the stutter of music that skips every so often when someone leans too hard against the stereo. Bodies move around you like a tide, fluid and flushed, the scent of beer and cologne clinging to everything. You feel a bit out of place, dressed more nicely than most, a little too alert to be fully one with the crowd. But there’s something thrilling about it too, about being here, in this noise and light and heat, as though stepping into a life just slightly tilted off your usual axis. You belong to the world your father tried to keep you from, and even though you’re standing still, your heartbeat is already racing.

Your gaze sweeps across the room, through knots of people, couples kissing in dark corners, teammates whoop-laughing over some inside joke you can’t hear. You spot Heeseung near the window, kissing his girlfriend like it’s the last night on Earth, hands tangled in her hair, their bodies pressed together in a way that makes you look away with a soft laugh caught in your throat. You weave your way further in, bumping shoulders with strangers, eyes searching. And then, just as you pause near the base of the staircase, two arms wrap around your waist, strong and familiar, pulling you backward into warmth that makes every nerve in your spine flare. You whirl around with a sharp breath, only to find Jay grinning down at you like the world just tilted in his favor. His smile is boyish, easy, but his eyes, they hold that steady fire that always seems to look right through your defenses. “You came!” he says, surprised but pleased, voice barely audible over the hum of music and laughter. You nod, letting a smile curl slowly over your lips. “Of course I did,” you murmur, and you don’t say it, but it’s the truth, you would’ve followed him anywhere tonight. 

Jay’s hand finds yours and it’s instinctual, the way your fingers fit together like puzzle pieces. He tugs gently, leading you across the crowded room toward the far couch where Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung are half-lounging, half-sitting, deep in a conversation about the game that had them all riding high with adrenaline. Heeseung’s girlfriend is curled up next to him, glowing with affection and soft laughter, and you’re pulled into the circle like a ripple in still water. The jokes start almost instantly, teasing remarks flung like soft snowballs, warm and harmless, and you laugh in return, each giggle shaking loose the tension that had clung to your shoulders since you stepped through the door. For a few moments, you forget about boundaries. About who you are and who Jay is. You forget about your father’s rules and the ache of rejection that had lived in your chest not so long ago. Here, among Jay’s friends, among your friends, maybe, you feel light. Like you’ve found something that belongs to you, something you’ve been missing. That is, until Soobin stumbles in like a storm no one saw coming.

He’s already glassy-eyed and red-faced, his gait loose and uncoordinated, that unmistakable sway of someone who’s a few drinks past his limit. He barrels into the living room like a wrecking ball, slinging an arm around Jay’s neck with the kind of heavy-handed affection only drunkenness can excuse. “Chill out on the drinks, man…” Jake says, reaching for Soobin’s cup, which is dangerously tilted and threatening to soak Jay’s shirt. His voice is careful but not unkind. “I’m good,” Soobin slurs, blinking as he tries to focus. His voice is too loud, too relaxed, carrying a reckless kind of weight. “Anyone know any single girls around here?”

Sunghoon chuckles, tossing a comment over his shoulder about Soobin’s breakup with Yunjin. There’s a teasing edge to his words, but Soobin doesn’t flinch. He just shrugs like the loss of someone he loved is an old wound he’s decided to stop tending. Then his gaze shifts, and lands on you. Recognition hits his face like a lightning strike. “Hey—” he slurs, pointing at you with a crooked smile. “Did coach lift the ban on dating his daughter—?”

The question hangs in the air like a guillotine. But Jay is quick. “Shut up, Soobin,” he snaps, voice low and sharp enough to cut. His arm tightens slightly at your waist. Soobin blinks, confused for a beat, then throws up his hands in surrender. “Damn. My bad.” Jake grabs him gently by the arm, steering him away toward the kitchen, his voice hushed but firm. “Come on, man. Let’s get you some water.” 

The group’s laughter doesn’t return. The bubble pops. The easy lightness vanishes. And suddenly, all you feel is every pair of eyes that had glanced your way during that too-loud moment. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until Jay’s hand gently slides into yours again. “You wanna go upstairs for a bit?” he asks, voice soft this time, quieter, like he’s asking if you want to escape. You don’t hesitate. You nod.

Jay’s room is quieter than the rest of the house, sealed off like a snow globe from the riotous storm downstairs. When you step inside, you pause for a moment just beyond the threshold, unsure of what to expect but immediately hit by a surprising stillness. The air is tinged with something faintly woodsy and familiar, maybe his cologne or the way his jacket always smells when he leans too close. You drift further in and lower yourself slowly onto the edge of his bed, fingertips brushing the neatly tucked comforter, as your eyes sweep over his space with a subtle curiosity. Everything is tidier than you imagined it would be, books lined up like soldiers on his desk, sneakers in a straight row near the foot of the bed, a single jacket hanging from the back of his chair. It’s lived-in, but purposeful. A room that carries him in every corner. It doesn’t scream for attention. It doesn’t try to impress. It’s just... him. And maybe, for some reason, you aren’t surprised by that. Jay is a boy of precision, quiet control, even when the world around him spins out of balance. He closes the door with a soft click, leans his back against it for a moment like he’s collecting himself, and then lets out a breath. “Sorry about Soobin,” he murmurs, not quite meeting your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice soft. It’s not the first thing on your mind, not even close. But it’s easier than diving straight into the waves crashing inside your chest. The silence stretches, heavy with everything you aren’t saying. Jay crosses the room slowly, but not to sit beside you. He hovers near the desk for a second, hand drifting across a stray pen, eyes lost in thought. You know he feels the tension, same as you. And maybe, for once, silence isn’t the answer. So you break it.

“I don’t care what my dad says,” you tell him, your voice low but steady, slicing through the quiet like a blade. “He can’t dictate my life.” That catches him. Jay turns to look at you fully now, the weight of your words visibly landing in the set of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow. But he doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he lets out a rough sigh, dragging a hand down his face like he’s trying to clear the thoughts clouding his mind.

“Your father’s been like… a father to me,” he finally says, voice strained and quiet. “I don’t think I’d still be playing if it wasn’t for him. He’s given me so much. And now—” He exhales sharply. “Now I feel like I’m betraying him.” You swallow hard. Not because you’re angry, but because you understand. You know what your father has meant to Jay, how he took him under his wing, coached him, mentored him, praised him in ways you only ever watched from a distance. But it still hurts, because the man Jay reveres has always kept you at arm’s length.

“At least he acted like a father to someone,” you say, and there’s something quiet and broken in your voice you hadn’t meant to let slip. Jay straightens, confusion flickering in his gaze.

“What do you mean?” You look down at your hands, fingers laced tight in your lap. “I mean… he was never really there for me. Not in the way that matters. He was always on the ice, always yelling plays, chasing glory. And when he wasn’t focused on the team, he was focused on Jaehyun. Because Jaehyun played hockey. Because Jaehyun was his golden boy. And me?” You shrug, bitter laughter bubbling in your throat. “I was background noise. Just a complication he had to keep out of the way.”

Jay doesn’t speak, but he moves, slowly, cautiously, sitting beside you now, close enough that your knees brush. His eyes are on you, unreadable but soft, like he’s seeing pieces of you he hadn’t known to look for before. “He doesn’t get to tell me who I can care about,” you say, voice firmer now. “Not when he didn’t care enough to be a father to me when it mattered.”

Jay swallows hard, his throat bobbing with the weight of everything he’s holding back. And then, almost cautiously, he reaches for your hand. When your fingers touch, it’s like the air shifts again, warmer, charged, trembling with something unspoken. “Then we should tell him,” Jay says quietly. “We shouldn’t hide it. If this is real, if you’re willing, then we should tell him. Together.” 

You stare at him, heart thudding, and slowly you nod. “Okay. Together.”

And something shifts in his expression, relief, maybe, or quiet awe. But you don’t have time to name it, because he leans in. The kiss is gentle at first, slow and uncertain like he’s afraid to break you. His lips press to yours with the care of someone tasting something they never thought they’d get to have, a wish whispered into reality. Your hand lifts instinctively to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat under your palm, and he deepens the kiss, his fingers finding your waist like they’ve always belonged there. The air around you grows softer, heavier, your breaths mingling in the small space between your bodies. And when the kiss turns into something more — when it becomes less about proving something and more about being seen, there’s no fear. Only trust.

He touches you like he’s memorizing you. Like every moment might be his last. You guide him just as much as he guides you, hands and lips and hearts speaking in the language only the two of you understand. There’s nothing rushed or reckless about it, only an aching tenderness that bleeds into every motion. You hold him like a promise, and he holds you like a prayer. He moves inside of you with practice poise and heavy breathing. “You feel so good.” He breathes onto your shoulder, his forehead stuck to the skin, leaving feather-like kisses along the column of your neck. You arched into his touch with gasp leaving your mouth like wind. 

“Jay” You whined, nails scratching at the skin of his back. No doubt leaving marks in their track. “Jay Jay Jay” His name became a chant, a prayer. Your heat in tandem with his movements, your bodies so close it leaves little room to be desired. You loved him, in this moment you loved him. You don’t know how real it was, or if the euphoric feeling of being so close to him was clouding your mind but you didn’t care. This is where you wanted to be. And when it’s over, when the hush settles around you once again, Jay wraps his arm around your waist and draws you against his chest, your legs tangled under the sheets, your head on his shoulder.

Neither of you says anything for a long while. There’s nothing that needs to be said. His fingertips trace idle patterns along your spine, and you close your eyes, letting the rhythm of his breathing lull you into something peaceful. Something safe. You know the world won’t make this easy. You know the storm is still waiting just outside the door. But here, in this small, stolen moment, it’s just you and Jay. And for the first time in a long time, it feels like that’s enough.

Morning clings to your skin like sunlight through gauze, gentle, golden, slow to wake. Jay’s room is dim, the blinds cracked just enough to allow the earliest threads of dawn to filter in and cast warm slants across his bare shoulder, across the soft rise and fall of his chest where your cheek had rested not long ago. You’re still tangled in his sheets when you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, his skin tasting like sleep and dreams and something sweeter still. He hums, barely conscious, but his arm curls around you reflexively, keeping you close for a second longer, like even in sleep he can’t quite bear to let you go. “I’ll see you at practice,” you whisper, brushing your fingers across the mess of his hair. And Jay, with eyes still heavy and lips curled into the faintest smile, murmurs, “Yeah. You will.” It’s not a promise, exactly, but it feels like one. A truth passed quietly between two people who’ve crossed a line they can’t uncross. A line they don’t want to.

You leave his room feeling like you’ve been rewritten. Every step down the stairs, out the door, into the crisp morning air is wrapped in the strange, shining veil of newness. The sky above is still pale and sleepy, the trees rustling with the hush of an early wind, and the world, for once, seems like it’s moving in rhythm with your heartbeat. It’s all the small things you notice now. The way the clouds stretch like long strokes of white across soft blue. The way your lips still buzz with the echo of his. The way your heart tugs you back toward him even as you walk away. 

You don’t want to leave this bubble. You don’t want to break the illusion, the sweet, delicate dream you and Jay carved for yourselves in the safety of his room. But the real world waits, loud and sharp and unavoidable. And as you climb into your car, as the engine hums to life and your fingers grip the steering wheel, a new weight settles in the space behind your ribs, the knowledge of what’s coming. Because sooner or later, this secret won’t stay wrapped in soft cotton and whispered kisses. It’ll be exposed. Confronted. And though Jay hadn’t said it with urgency or fear, you could tell in the way he looked at you last night, bare and serious, that it mattered to him. That this thing between you wasn’t something he wanted to hide in shadows, even if it meant facing the hardest part of all: your father. You sigh as you pull into your neighborhood, the sun climbing higher behind you like a slow, burning truth. You’ve gone over it a dozen times already in your head — what you’ll say, how you’ll say it, how your father will react. But the words never quite line up. Not in a way that doesn’t twist your stomach into uneasy knots. Because you know your father. You know his pride, his protectiveness, the fire behind his eyes when someone breaks the rules he’s set in stone. And this? You and Jay? You’ve broken more than just a rule. You’ve stepped directly into the one place he made clear no one was allowed to go. But how can you explain that Jay is worth the fallout?

That behind the hard shell of his quiet and his discipline is a boy who holds you like you matter. Who listens when your voice wavers, who catches you when your steps falter, who kissed you like he was both terrified and thrilled to finally get to do it. Jay isn’t just a boy on your dad’s team. He isn’t just another name on a roster. He’s the reason your heart races when you walk into a room. The reason practice feels like more than just routine. He’s the one who’s made you feel, truly feel, after years of being tucked into the corners of someone else’s life. But will your father care about any of that?

You pull into the driveway and sit there for a moment, your hands trembling faintly over the wheel. The house is quiet. The world is quiet. But inside you, a thousand questions scream to be answered. You wish it could be easy. You wish you could walk through the door, look your father in the eye, and tell him that for once, you chose something for yourself, and that you’re not sorry for it. Instead, you think about how to crack the surface. How to ease into the truth without igniting it like a fuse. Maybe over dinner. Maybe after the game next week, if the mood is good. Maybe if he sees that Jay respects you, if he knows this wasn’t reckless or flippant. Maybe then, Your phone buzzes softly in your bag, drawing you out of the spiral. A message from Jay. “Made it out of bed. Barely. Miss you already.”

And just like that, a smile tugs at your lips. Even in the shadow of what’s to come, he finds a way to make the light reach you. And maybe that’s enough to keep going. To brave the hard conversations. To start telling the truth, piece by piece. You text him back.

“See you at practice, golden boy. ❤️” Then you take a deep breath, open the car door, and step out, each footfall soft and deliberate, like walking a tightrope strung between the memory of last night and the weight of the day ahead.

Practice is a familiar rhythm now, a melody you’ve memorized without meaning to, clipboards and crisp notetaking, laced-up skates echoing against the boards, the low bark of your father’s voice commanding drills like a general at war. You drift through it in your usual way, purposeful and observant, always keeping one eye on movement, posture, the subtle twitches of discomfort or strain in the players’ bodies. You jot things down. You offer suggestions to Jungwon, who takes your advice with a grateful grin and a chuckle. He’s become a good friend, easy to talk to, funny without trying too hard, unbothered by your silences when you’re deep in thought. And today, like most days, he’s helping your father by handing out gear and managing water bottles, moving with that natural rhythm he has, an ease like he was born for this, even if he doesn’t have the bruises or battle scars of the guys on the ice.

But today is different. Not for any visible reason, not for any change in the air, but because Jay is here, and he’s looking at you like you hung the stars he’s been skating under. And you? You’re trying your best not to look back. You fail, of course. Miserably. You catch yourself glancing at him over the rim of your clipboard, pretending to check a stat when in truth you're watching the way his jaw clenches when he’s focused, the way his brows furrow as he lines up a shot. There’s a softness to him now that you know what his kisses feel like. A gravity in the way he moves that you notice only because you’ve seen him at his most unguarded, tangled in sheets and moonlight. Every time your eyes meet, his mouth pulls into a lopsided grin, and once, when your father is turned and barking instructions at Heeseung, Jay has the audacity to wink at you. You nearly drop your pen.

It becomes a game. A subtle, delicious one. Eyes across the rink. Smirks hidden behind hands. He bumps shoulders with Jake and Sunghoon like normal, but every time he skates past your side of the rink, he finds an excuse to glance your way. And though you keep your expression mostly neutral, dutiful, professional, you feel like a teenager sneaking glances at a crush across a crowded cafeteria. There’s something electric in the secrecy of it, something young and stupid and wonderful. Then break is called. Water bottles pop open, helmets are tugged off, and the room settles into temporary chatter. Jay meets your gaze again, this time not playful, not teasing, but something more. A tilt of his head. A quick nod toward the hallway. You blink, then lower your clipboard and move, careful, subtle. You duck past the bench, past Sunghoon and Jungwon chatting near the entrance, and slip into the hallway like you were meant to be there all along.

The moment you round the corner, he’s there, leaning against the wall like he’s been waiting hours instead of seconds. He straightens when he sees you, that familiar smile blooming across his face, and before you can say a word, he steps forward and kisses you. It’s fast and warm and a little clumsy from urgency. You make a surprised squeak against his mouth, but the sound dissolves into laughter as you push playfully at his chest. He chuckles, pulling back just enough to look at you, and there’s mischief in his eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do that all practice,” he murmurs, still close enough that you can feel the breath of the words on your lips. You shake your head, heart racing, but your grin is impossible to hide. “I’ve been wanting you to do that all practice.”

He kisses you again, slower this time, like he wants to memorize it, the way you taste like mint gum and something undeniably you. His hands settle at your waist and for a moment it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. There’s no ice, no drills, no clipboard or game or coach waiting to shout your name. There’s just this hallway, and the silence between your joined mouths, and the pulse of something bright and blooming in both your chests. When he finally leans back, brushing his thumb across your cheek, his tone softens. “Did you think more about what we talked about? Telling your dad?”

The smile slips a little from your lips. Not completely; but enough to show the weight of it. You nod, slowly. “Yeah. I think we just need to do it. Rip the bandaid off. Clean, quick, no waiting around for the perfect moment.”

Jay lets out a breath, half-laugh, half-nerves. He leans back against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. “God. You’re braver than me.”

“You’re the one who said we should tell him.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually agree.” You laugh, but there’s truth nestled in the heart of it. “He’ll get over it,” you say, but the words taste like hope more than certainty. “Eventually.”

He nods. The silence is longer this time, but not uncomfortable. It’s thick with unspoken things, what-ifs and maybes and fears that neither of you are ready to voice yet. Then, from the far end of the rink, your father’s voice cuts through the quiet like a blade. “Hey! Where’d you go?”

Jay straightens like he’s been electrocuted. You stifle a laugh as he leans in quickly, kisses your temple with exaggerated tenderness, and says, “Guess that’s my cue.” You roll your eyes, turning to follow him back into the rink, but then, like he can’t help himself, he smacks your butt lightly with one hand. You yelp in surprise, twisting back to glare at him, but he’s already walking away, grin stretching wide across his face. He tosses a wink over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

The weight of practice has barely settled into Jay’s muscles before he hears it, his name, sharp and unmistakable, barked across the rink like a slap. “Park!” Coach Bennett’s voice booms above the low hum of skates and post-practice chatter, and it lands like a stone in the pit of Jay’s stomach. He straightens instinctively, spine stiffening, turning his head toward the source. The coach is standing at the threshold of his office, arms crossed, brows low with that permanent scowl etched into his weathered face. It’s impossible to tell if he’s furious or just...being himself. But Jay knows that tone. Knows it too well. It’s the tone that means come here. Now. 

He nods once, respectful, as if he isn’t panicking inside. As if his hands aren’t suddenly clammy and his heart isn’t hammering against his ribs like it wants out. He gives a fleeting glance back toward the ice, where you’re still collecting equipment with Jungwon, your eyes catching his for a moment, just a flicker. He doesn't smile this time. Just turns and walks. The office door clicks shut behind him, sealing out the familiar chaos of the rink. In here, it’s quiet. Sterile. A single desk lamp casts a dim, amber light over the papers scattered on Coach Bennett’s desk. Framed photos of past seasons hang on the walls, championships won, trophies hoisted high, a dozen versions of the same proud scowl that the coach wears now, as he motions silently for Jay to sit.

Jay obeys, lowering himself into the chair like he’s done a hundred times before. But today, the air feels thicker, like it’s pressing down on his chest. He keeps his expression neutral, hands clasped tightly between his knees. Captain’s posture. Soldier’s stance. Coach Bennett doesn’t beat around the bush. “Jay, I’m going to be honest,” he begins, his voice rough as gravel, fingers laced tightly together as he leans forward on the desk. “I’ve heard some rumors.”

Jay’s mouth goes dry. The coach continues, eyes boring into him like a spotlight. “Rumors that someone on this team has been fooling around with my daughter. Even after I forbade it.” Jay blinks, once. The seconds stretch and bend like rubber bands. His throat tightens.

“Do you know anything about this?” He wants to lie. Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he wants to rip the words from his chest and lay them out plain. He swallows hard. “No, Coach, I–” But Coach Bennett doesn’t let him finish. He leans back, cutting him off with a raised hand.

“I trust you,” he says, voice suddenly softer. And for a flicker of a moment, a single heartbeat, Jay feels relief. His breath catches on the cusp of hope. Maybe this is his way of saying it’s okay. Maybe he knows, and he’s offering a backdoor blessing. Maybe, just maybe — 

“I trust you,” the coach repeats, voice firm now, “to nip these rumors in the bud.” Jay’s heart stops. “You’re the captain. That means handling this, loudly and clearly. In front of the whole team. If someone is messing around with my daughter, I want to know who. And I want them dealt with.” Jay opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Coach Bennett isn’t finished.

“Whoever it is, if I find out, they’re suspended indefinitely. Until I decide if they ever come back.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I don’t care how good they are. Rules are rules. And I don’t break them for anyone.” Jay’s stomach churns. Then the killing blow. 

“You’re like a son to me, Jay. That’s why I made you captain. I trust you.” Jay tries to swallow the guilt rising like bile in his throat, tries to keep his features smooth and unreadable. But it’s like a knot has formed in his chest, thick and tangled and impossible to ignore. Like a brand seared into his ribs. The kind of pain that doesn’t scream, it smolders.

He nods once. “Yes, Coach. I’ll take care of it.”

The coach leans back in his chair, apparently satisfied. “Good. You’re dismissed.”

Jay stands, body on autopilot, legs heavy as stone. He walks out of the office slowly, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway. The air out here feels colder. Sharper. Like the truth is a knife pressed against his neck. He should feel proud. He said the right thing. Wore the right mask. But he doesn’t feel proud. He feels hollow. There’s no ice bath waiting for him now. Only the silent weight of guilt, trailing him like a shadow as he heads for the locker room. And for the first time in years, Jay isn’t sure if he deserves the “C” stitched to his jersey, or the way you look at him like he’s someone worth trusting. Because he’s lying to the only two people who’ve ever mattered. And that lie is starting to rot in his chest.

Practice ends beneath the low hum of fluorescent lights and the faint echo of skate blades scraping against ice, but Jay’s world has long since tilted off its axis. He doesn’t even register the ache in his body anymore, not the dull throb in his knee nor the stiffness in his arms. He’s moving on instinct, eyes only searching for one thing, you. You’re by the bench with Jungwon, laughing at something he said, your hair falling in a way that makes his heart clench. For a moment, Jay forgets the weight in his chest, the pressure behind his eyes. You look so soft in the cold of the rink, a calm tucked away in chaos. He doesn’t have time.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, the words falling from his lips like lead. You turn to him, confused, eyebrows furrowing, lips parting to ask what he means, but he’s already walking away, like a man marching toward his own execution. And maybe that’s what this is.

He doesn’t glance back as he calls for the team to gather. “Line up,” he shouts, his voice sharp and firm, echoing off the walls. The players shuffle toward him in loose lines, shoving each other, still high off adrenaline from drills. You’re watching now from the sidelines, your clipboard held tightly in your hand, curiosity pinching your expression. Jay forces himself not to look at you. If he does, he’ll lose the will to speak. “I have an announcement,” he begins, loud enough to silence the chatter, his voice ringing out into the stillness. And then the words leave him, like poison.

“There are rumors floating around that someone on this team has disobeyed Coach Bennett’s orders regarding his daughter.” The moment your name hangs in the air, not spoken, but pointed at, like a dagger, everything stops. You freeze, blinking at Jay, disbelief warping across your face like a crack in glass. Your breath catches in your throat. It doesn’t make sense. Is he —?

“She is off limits,” Jay continues, his jaw clenched, every word a betrayal. “If you’re caught with her, you will be suspended pending review by the coach. If he decides you’re no longer necessary to the team, you’ll be removed entirely.” The silence is deafening.

You step forward like your bones are no longer willing to sit back and let this happen. Your face is a map of fury and heartbreak, eyes blazing, jaw trembling. “What the fuck, Jay?” you shout, voice rising like a wave crashing against the shore. “What the hell is this? What are you doing?” He can’t look at you.

You shove past the stunned players and stomp into the center of the rink, your voice climbing in volume, sharp and sure. “I’m not a fucking piece of meat. I’m not something you can pass rules about like I’m property.” Your voice wavers with rage, with disbelief, with the sudden sting of being betrayed not only by your father, but by the boy who kissed you like you were everything. “I’m my own person. You don’t get to control me.”

Coach Bennett’s voice cracks like a whip across the silence. “Rules are rules.”

You spin on him now, eyes flashing, years of buried resentment erupting like magma. “Your rules are bullshit! They’ve always been bullshit. You think you can control everything with a whistle and a clipboard, but you can’t. You were never there for me. You were there for Jaehyun. For hockey. But not for me.” The entire team is frozen. Nobody dares to breathe.

Coach Bennett’s face darkens. “I can’t dictate your life,” he says lowly, “but I can dictate theirs.”

That’s when it snaps. You feel it inside your chest, the last strand of restraint snapping like a violin string under pressure. You look at him, then at Jay, and the pain in your eyes could shatter the ice beneath you. “Go to hell,” you spit, your voice like fire. “All of you.” You throw the clipboard. It hits the ground with a clatter that echoes like a gunshot. And then you turn, storming out of the rink, each footfall hard and fast, your breath shallow, your fists clenched at your sides. No one calls after you. Not even Jay.

He just stands there, alone at the center of the storm he helped create, watching the person he loves disappear through a door he may never be able to open again. And the silence you leave behind is heavier than any punishment Coach Bennett could ever give.

The hallway smelled like stale sweat and antiseptic soap, like frozen water thawing too fast, and your breath came in jagged pieces, lungs aching against your ribcage as you tried to contain everything you felt, humiliation, betrayal, rage. They were blooming in you like rot, black and furious, and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. Your fingers were trembling as you pushed open the locker room door, letting the chill of the empty room swallow you whole. It was quieter in here, almost sacred in a way, the clatter and chaos of practice replaced by the muffled hum of old air vents and the distant drip of melting ice. You moved robotically, grabbing your notes, your clipboard, your stupid pens that you didn’t even like, stuffing them into your bag like they’d wronged you personally.

If this internship wasn’t so damn important, if you weren’t so close to the future you’d been clawing toward for years, you’d quit right now. Walk out of this rink, toss your badge in your father’s face, and never look back. But you couldn’t, not yet. How dare he try to dictate your life. And how dare Jay let him? You blinked hard, the sting of unshed tears biting at the corners of your vision. The boy who kissed you like he meant it, who whispered against your skin like you were precious, who looked at you like he was seeing something holy, that boy stood in front of an entire team and threw you under the bus like you were just some distraction. Just some problem to be managed. After everything you’d shared. After what you gave him. The door creaked open.

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. The room felt different with him in it, weighted and warm in that way that used to make you feel safe, but now made you want to scream. Jay stood there in silence for a moment, his mouth parted, like the words were caught behind his teeth. His eyes searched your face like he could still find a trace of forgiveness there. Like maybe if he looked long enough, the damage he did might disappear. “I’m sorry—” he started, voice soft, pleading.

You spun around fast, eyes wild, your voice sharp like a blade. “You humiliated me.” He flinched like the word was a slap, but you didn’t stop. “You took his side. After everything we said. After what we did. How could you?” Jay opened his mouth, but nothing came out. No excuses. No explanations. Just silence.

You shook your head, bitterly, lips tight with disbelief as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Forget it,” you muttered, walking toward the door like you could outrun the hurt. “I should’ve known. I should’ve known better than to think I mattered more than him.”

“Please—” he called out, voice cracking. “Just… let me explain. Please.” You turned to him, hollow laughter spilling from you like a broken song. “Why should I? What I say doesn’t matter, Jay. You’ll just do whatever my dad says anyway.”

He groaned, running a hand down his face like he could pull the guilt off himself. “He’s like a father to me—”

“And he’s my father,” you snapped, your voice rising with the full weight of all the years you’d held this in, “Mine. And he treats me like I’m a fucking ghost. Like I’m not even there unless I’m making his coffee or holding his clipboard. You think it feels good to watch someone who isn’t even his blood get treated like a golden child, while his real child gets nothing? Not praise. Not love. Nothing.” Jay’s face softened with something that looked like heartbreak, his mouth trembling with words he didn’t know how to say. “He cornered me in the office today,” he said, his voice rough. “He demanded I make a statement in front of the team, to put the rumors to rest, and if I didn’t — he made it sound like I’d be finished. What was I supposed to do?” 

“Tell the truth,” you breathed. “You should’ve told the damn truth.” He sighed, defeated, and sat down on one of the benches like the weight of it all had finally caught up to him. His shoulders curled forward, elbows on his knees, hands hanging limp.

Then, quietly; so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “I love you.” The air left your lungs. He looked up at you now, and his eyes were nothing like the confident boy you first met on the ice. They were soft, and tired, and afraid. “I know it’s soon,” he said. “I know everything’s a mess. But I do. I love you.” 

Your heart clenched. You hadn’t expected it, not here, not like this, not in the middle of a locker room still echoing with betrayal. But even now, even bleeding, you knew your feelings hadn’t changed. So you sat beside him, your thigh pressed to his, and reached for his hand. “And I hate that he wasn’t a good dad to you,” Jay whispered, his voice cracking. “I hate it. But I can’t lie to him, not after everything. I owe him.”

You nodded slowly. “I agree, Jay. I’m not asking you to lie.” You turned to him, your voice quiet, but firm. “But I won’t be with you if we keep this a secret. I won’t be your dirty little secret. We tell him. Or this ends.”

Jay nodded, gripping your hand tighter. “Okay. Let’s—” A voice cut through the air like a gunshot.

“Too late.” You froze. 

Your head whipped toward the door, and there, standing in the frame like the ghost of a thousand disappointments, was your father. Coach Bennett. Face hard. Shoulders squared. His eyes were sharp and unreadable, but the fire beneath them was unmistakable. Every nerve in your body screamed. Jay stood up slowly, but you didn’t move. You didn’t breathe. It was too late. You didn’t need to tell him. He already knew. The moment felt frozen in amber, suspended between one breath and the next. You stood beside Jay like you were both statues cast in shame and defiance, the silence between the three of you straining at the seams.

His eyes bore into Jay with something colder than ice, sharper than skates on glass. His voice came low and level, but the weight of it dropped like an axe. “I trusted you.” 

Jay didn’t flinch, but you saw the way his eyes dropped, the way his shoulders curled inward slightly like he’d taken the hit straight to the chest. You wanted to speak, to say something, but you felt your pulse in your throat, thick and rising. Jay looked at his shoes, then at your father, then finally at you, his eyes steady, jaw tight. And then, slowly, deliberately, he reached down and took your hand in his. “I love her,” he said. No embellishment, no excuses. Just truth. Laid bare like a wound. “I’m sorry.” For a heartbeat, it almost felt like that might matter. Like maybe love could be enough to change something here.

But your father’s eyes darkened, his lips pulling into a grim, tired line. He didn’t even blink. “You’re suspended.” The air in the room imploded. The silence that followed was so deep it rang in your ears. You felt the earth tilt under your feet, the ripple of that sentence echoing in your bones. You didn’t move. Neither did Jay.

“Dad—” you started, your voice raw.

“No.” The word came fast and sharp, slicing through your protest before it could fully form. He didn’t even look at you. His eyes were still locked on Jay like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You’re suspended,” he repeated, voice like splintering wood. “Until I’m ready to let you back. Heeseung will be acting captain. Now get out of my rink.”

Jay inhaled sharply, something like heartbreak flashing behind his eyes. He opened his mouth, voice trembling with the weight of everything he hadn’t gotten the chance to say. “Coach—”

“Get out.” There was finality in those words. No room for argument. No crack to slip a plea through. Jay stood still for a moment, eyes flicking to you one last time, and there was something in his gaze, something that said I’m sorry. He picked up his bag without a word and walked out, the door shutting softly behind him, the sound so gentle it felt cruel. And then it was just you and your father, the air still vibrating from all that had just broken apart.

You turned toward him slowly, your heart pounding, your face flushed with fury. There was no more space left inside you for restraint, for tiptoeing around his silence or swallowing your feelings like they didn’t matter. “How dare you?” you breathed, your voice a whisper and a scream at once. 

His eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his chest like a fortress. “Rules are rules.” But you weren’t having it. Not now. Not anymore.

“No.” You stepped closer, heat radiating off you like a wildfire. “What is your problem? Why the sudden urge to act like a father now? What, because it finally gives you control over something? Someone?” He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, his stare hardened, and you could see it, that wall he always kept between the two of you, the one made of pride and coldness and hockey schedules and missed birthdays. 

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said, like he was reading from a goddamn script.

You scoffed, bitter laughter escaping before you could stop it. “Of course it isn’t. It never is with you. It’s always do this, don’t do that, be quiet, be useful, don’t embarrass me. You never listen to me. You never see me.” He didn’t say anything. Didn’t blink. Just turned back to his desk like he could will you out of the room by ignoring you.

So you did what you always wanted to do. You left. You turned on your heel, your throat burning, your heart thundering, and walked out without another word. Not because you were giving up, but because there was nothing left to say to someone who never heard you in the first place. The door clicked shut behind you with a sound too small for how big this moment felt. And still; through the rage, through the betrayal, through the cracks, you carried one thing with you as you walked: Jay's words echoing soft as snowfall. I love you. That, at least, was still yours.

Jay’s house is quieter than you’ve ever known it to be. The kind of quiet that sinks into your skin, that makes you wonder how long he’s been alone with his thoughts, how long he’s sat in this silence with the weight of your father’s words pressing into his chest like stones. Sunghoon answers the door after only a few knocks, and his face softens when he sees you standing there. There’s something in his gaze that reads like understanding, like he knows exactly where you’re headed and what you need to say. He steps aside without a word and gestures upstairs. “He’s in his room,” he murmurs, voice gentle, as if not to disturb something sacred.

You nod your thanks, offering him a small, grateful smile, and begin to climb the steps. As you approach the top, a sound reaches you, soft, melodic, aching in its simplicity. Not loud or showy. Just… honest. It takes you a second to realize what you’re hearing: music. Guitar strings plucked with care, each note falling like a raindrop into still water. The sound is fragile and deeply personal, like a secret you’re not sure you’re meant to hear. You pause just outside his room, heart slowing to match the rhythm of the melody, and close your eyes for a moment. You let it wash over you, the way it trembles, the way it yearns. It speaks of sadness and of hope, of loss and love all braided into the same fragile thread. You push the door open gently and there he is, Jay, sitting on the edge of his bed, guitar nestled in his lap, his fingers dancing across the frets with a kind of quiet reverence. His brow is furrowed in focus, his lips slightly parted as he hums along, completely unaware that the world is watching. That you are watching. And something in you splinters, because how can someone look so heartbreakingly beautiful in their stillness?

He looks up and startles slightly when he sees you, his cheeks flushing the softest shade of pink like you’ve caught him baring something intimate. He moves to set the guitar down quickly, a sheepish laugh escaping his throat. “I didn’t think anyone was home,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting away.

You step into the room, closing the door behind you. “It was beautiful,” you say softly, like speaking too loudly might break the magic still lingering in the air. He lets out a small breath, almost relieved, but shrugs modestly. “I only play sometimes,” he murmurs. “When it’s quiet. When I need to think.”

You walk closer, until you’re in front of him, your gaze soft but steady. “I’d love for you to play for me sometime,” you say, and you mean it. There’s something deeply vulnerable in the way he held that guitar, something that speaks more truth than words ever could. Jay looks at you then, really looks, and you see the shadows behind his eyes, the questions, the uncertainty, the pain he’s been hiding under that quiet exterior. “Are you okay?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, as if asking it too loudly might cause him to retreat into himself again.

He exhales, his shoulders sinking as he leans back slightly, resting his arms on his knees. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t know who I am without hockey.” You nod, understanding that ache all too well, the feeling of being untethered, of having the one thing that defined you ripped away before you were ready to let go. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

But Jay reaches for your hand and shakes his head, his fingers curling around yours with surprising tenderness. “Don’t apologize,” he says firmly. “You didn’t do this. I made the choice. I just… wish it didn’t feel like losing everything.” 

Your heart aches for him, for the boy who’s spent his whole life trying to be good enough for a man who only saw his potential on the ice. You lift his hand to your lips and press a kiss into his knuckles. “I see you,” you say softly. “Even without the jersey. Even without the captain’s C.”

Something flickers in his expression, gratitude, adoration, a flicker of something deeper. He leans in slowly, brushing his lips against yours, tentative at first like he’s afraid you might still be angry, still slipping through his fingers. But you lean into him just as hungrily, and the kiss deepens, your hands finding their way to his hair, his neck, pulling him closer like you never want to be apart again. The guitar is long forgotten, resting gently on the bed as your bodies lean into one another. The heat builds slowly, quietly, in the soft sighs between kisses, in the way his fingers trace along your spine, in the way you fit together so naturally. There’s no rush, no desperation, only the steady, quiet need to be known. He kisses you like an apology, like a promise, and you respond with forgiveness, with fire.

The room fills with the sound of breath, of whispered names, of two people trying to love each other through the wreckage. And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, with your heart pounding in tandem, you realize that even in the ashes, something new can grow. That maybe love is the one thing strong enough to stand after everything else falls. 

You lean back only slightly, your lips leaving his. “I have something that might make you feel better.” Your voice carried a heavy lit to it, sultry and sweet. Jay’s eyebrows rose, a playful smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah?” He asks his tongue darting out to lick his lips, his hands finding your waist to pull you impossibly close. “How, so?” 

You fall to your knees in front of him, your hair hanging around you like a veil waiting to be pushed aside. Jay let out a low groan, one that stems deep within his belly — deep and guttarl. He wore grey sweatpants, your nimble hands finding the jaw string to pull at. His eyes drank in every movement. The way you lowered his pants to his ankle, the way you pulled him out of his boxers with a hiss, a small knowing smile on your face. 

“Fuck.” He choked out his hands finding your hair. Your mouth found his tip, sucking slightly. Jay’s eyes fluttered a shaky breath leaving his lips as he gathered your hair into a tight ponytail, tugging just lightly. “Agh fuck.” 

His groans were only encouragement for your movements, a rhythm settling in as you bobbed your head up and down on his shaft. The hand that wasn’t holding your hair, settled on your cheeks as his fingers grazed the indentation of himself inside your mouth. “Don’t stop.” He praised, his grip on your hair tightening “Don’t fucking stop, i’m close.” 

You speed your movements up — a gag in the back of your throat sounding over the harshness of Jay’s ragged breath and gurgling moans. “Where do you want it, baby?” He asked you. You nodded at him, signaling for him to finish in your mouth and that he did. His eyes squeezing shut, his hand yanking at your hair like it was a lifeline. He came down your throat – hot. You pulled away, your breath harsh swallowing all that he gave you. 

“Did that help?” You smirked, whipping your mouth with the back of your head. Jay laughs his head lazily, nodding a smile on his face. “I’m glad.” 

The morning is crisp and cold, the sky still tinted with the faded gray of pre-dawn. The air bites at your cheeks as you walk across the familiar parking lot, one last time. You’ve arrived early, earlier than anyone else, before the team, before Jay, even before the locker rooms have truly come alive. The hum of the arena is low and steady, the kind of hush that exists only in those sacred minutes before the world begins to move again. You clutch the envelope in your hand tightly, the edges slightly curled from how many times your fingers have clenched it overnight. It holds not just a few simple documents, but the manifestation of your decision, your first true act of defiance not rooted in emotion but in intention. Your choice. You make your way through the maze of hallways you know by heart, each echo of your footsteps reverberating off the walls like a goodbye. When you reach the door to your father’s office, you hesitate for just a second. Your fingers hover over the woodgrain, and you let out a slow breath, steeling yourself. Then, you knock.

The door opens shortly after, and your father blinks in surprise when he sees you. He’s not dressed in his usual suit and tie just yet, still in his fleece-lined warm-up gear, clipboard tucked under one arm. You hand him the envelope without a preamble. Your voice is level, your gaze steady. “I need you to sign these.” 

He furrows his brow, flipping the envelope open and scanning the first page. “What’s this?” 

You don’t flinch. “They’re transfer papers. I’ve accepted an intern position with the university across town. Their hockey program offered me a place to work starting tomorrow.” The silence is sharp and immediate. His eyes snap up to meet yours, laced with confusion, the beginning edge of protest in his throat. “You’re transferring? You don’t have to do that. This is rash. You’re not thinking clearly.”

But you don’t budge, don’t shrink under his stare. You won’t be talked down from this cliff. “No,” you say calmly, each word deliberate, crystalline. “I’ve thought about it a lot. This isn’t just about what happened with Jay. This is about years of feeling small around you. Of being overlooked. Of being managed instead of raised.” He opens his mouth again, some protest half-formed on his lips, but you don’t give him the space. You don’t come here for a fight, you’ve had enough of those. Instead, you keep your tone measured, professional. You say everything you need to say without a single trace of venom.

“I won’t let you ruin my life more than you already have,” you tell him. “I’m not your soldier. I’m not your project. I’m not a pawn on your team board. I’m your daughter.” And for the first time, you see something flicker behind his eyes; not anger, not frustration. Something quieter. Smaller. Maybe even guilt. But you don’t wait to hear what he has to say. You simply turn and walk away, papers left behind on his desk like a verdict. Your spine is straight, your chin lifted, but your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest. Not from fear, but from the quiet, powerful rush of choosing yourself. You don’t pause. You don’t look back. And behind you, in the stillness of that office, your father is left alone, left with the papers, with the silence, and with the heavy weight of everything he’s done to bring you here.

It had been a week of something close to heaven, a fragile but precious interlude where love bloomed without restraint. Mornings tangled in soft sheets and half-spoken promises, afternoons chasing sunlight and teasing kisses, evenings curled into each other like pages of the same chapter. Jay held your hand like it was sacred, touched your face like he still couldn’t believe you were real, and kissed you like he wanted to make time stop. And for a while, it did. For a week, the world outside didn’t matter. But the silence had started to hum. Not the sweet kind, no, this was the brittle, broken silence of something missing. You caught it in the way Jay paused when the boys group chat lit up with win updates, locker room jokes, team photos without him in them. He never said it aloud, never dared to pull at the thread unraveling slowly in his chest, but you could see it. He missed it. Hockey wasn’t just a sport to Jay; it was his identity, his language, the thing he’d bled and bruised and burned for since he was old enough to grip a stick. And now, stripped of it, he smiled with his mouth but never fully with his eyes.

You missed it, too. The chill of the rink, the warm camaraderie of the team, the way Heeseung grumbled every time you corrected his posture but secretly appreciated it. You missed teasing Sunghoon, calling him a ballerina every time he accidentally twirled like a figure skater on a bad turn. And then there was your father, a ghost in the hallways of your heart, haunting the edges of your mind. As much as his choices hurt, as much as his anger pushed you away, there was still a child inside you who missed their dad, no matter how absent. 

So when the boys decided to have a barbecue that Saturday, burgers sizzling on the grill, laughter echoing through the backyard, bottles of soda clinking together like makeshift champagne, it felt like breathing again. The world righted itself for a moment. Heeseung and his girlfriend were playfully arguing over the best way to season corn, Sunghoon was making a mess of the grill, smoke billowing in a way that made Jake dramatically declare they were “all going to die,” and Jay, your Jay, was watching you with soft eyes and Sera babbling in his lap, gripping his thumb with her tiny hand. You leaned into the warmth, into the joy, just as your phone rang. 

The screen lit up: Mom. Your heart stumbled. You hadn’t heard from her in a while, she was always somewhat removed, orbiting your life like a distant moon. Not unloving, but not present either. Always polite. Always brief. Her voice on the other end of the line was calm, collected, and surprisingly direct. “I’d like you and Jay to come to the rink,” she said. “Just the two of you.” The words hit you sideways, strange and off-kilter. You blinked at the grill smoke, at the glow of the afternoon sun casting long golden rays across the yard. Jay noticed your expression, his brows furrowing in gentle concern.

“Why?” you asked your mother, confused. “Why the rink?”

She didn’t explain, not really. “I think it’s time,” she said instead. “Please.” 

And somehow, despite every piece of your rational mind screaming confusion, your heart said yes. Not because you knew what waited at that cold rink. But because something inside you, some sliver of hope still left unspoken, whispered that maybe, just maybe, the ice didn’t have to be a battlefield forever. So you turned to Jay, hand still wrapped around your phone, and told him. “She wants to meet us at the rink.”

His face mirrored your own disbelief. But he didn’t ask why. He just nodded. And said, “Okay.”

The sky is beginning to gray by the time you and Jay reach the rink, that familiar stretch of parking lot empty and echoing beneath your footsteps. The glass doors hiss open, letting out a breath of cool, sharp air that prickles against your skin like old memories. The sound of skates against ice, the steady drone of a Zamboni finishing its last lap, the scent of chilled rubber and piney disinfectant; it's all the same, unchanged, and yet nothing is the same at all. 

Jay squeezes your hand as you walk in, and you squeeze back, his warmth grounding you. You keep expecting to see your mother, her sleek coat, her warm expression, her sunny voice carrying across the echoing lobby, but when you step fully inside, it's not her standing under the buzzing fluorescents. It’s him. Your father. You freeze. Rage unfurls in your chest, slow and molten. You turn immediately, heels pivoting toward the exit with cold finality, but Jay is quicker; he gently catches your wrist, his voice soft, pleading. “Just… stay. Please. Hear him out.”

And you don’t know why, but something in his tone, in the quiet steadiness of his gaze, makes you stay. Maybe it’s love. Maybe it’s exhaustion. Or maybe it’s hope, shriveled but not yet dead. Your father’s shoulders look heavier than you remember. There’s a strain to his face, like he’s been carrying something too long. And when he speaks, it’s not the usual bark of orders or that razor-edge tone laced with judgment, it’s low. Gentle. Sincere.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and the words hit you like the crack of a puck against the glass.

You blink. “What?”

He nods slowly, eyes on you with something startlingly close to regret. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “For everything. For… not being there the way I should have. For choosing the game over you. For being too proud to see what was right in front of me.” You don’t know what to say. This is the man who turned away when you cried, who praised your brother's goals but never your straight A’s, who ran drills longer than dinners and could name every stat in the league but forgot your favorite color. And now he's standing here, shoulders sagging, saying sorry like it costs him everything. 

“I lost my daughter,” he continues, voice gruff with the weight of what he’s admitting. “And I lost the best player I ever coached. The best captain I ever trusted.” He glances at Jay, who stands beside you, spine stiff but eyes glistening. “It was like a slap in the face,” your father murmurs. “And I deserved it.”

Silence settles, a snowfall between you all. “I wish I could go back,” he says. “Wish I could change a lot of things. But I can’t. I can only move forward. And moving forward means trying to be better. Not just as a coach. As a father.” Your eyes are glassy now, throat tight. You look at Jay, and he’s watching you; not your father, not the rink, but you, like you’re the only one that matters in the world. 

Your voice comes out small, trembling around truth. “Jay makes me happy.”

And that’s when your father finally turns to him, arms crossed like a coach, but not unkind. “Then I want you to be with him. If he treats you right.” Jay blinks, startled, then nods quickly, a smile breaking slowly over his face like dawn cresting the horizon. Your father lifts a brow, his voice tinged with dry humor now. “If he doesn’t… he’ll regret it.”

Laughter bubbles up, genuine and breathless. You laugh, and Jay laughs, and even your father chuckles, shaking his head like he’s only just beginning to understand what it means to let go of the past and step into something new. And in that moment, everything shifts. Not completely. Not perfectly. But enough. You walk out of the rink hand in hand with Jay, the weight in your chest lighter than it’s felt in years. The past is behind you. The cold can’t touch you. And ahead lies only the warm unfolding of a future finally, finally your own. 

@hoonjayke @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @dawngyu , @hyukascampfire , @saejinniestar , @notevenheretbh1 , @hwanghyunjinismybae, @ch4c0nnenh4, @kristynaaah

series taglist. (★) @saejinniestar , @vixialuvs , @slut4hee , @xylatox , @skyearby @m1kkso @jakeswifez @heartheejake @hommyy-tommy @yunverie @lalalalawon

@strayy-kidz @wolfhardbby @kwiwin @immelissaaa @fancypeacepersona @starfallia @mariegalea @adoredbyjay @strxwbloody @lovingvoidgoatee @beeboobeebss @zyvlxqht @weyukinluv @flwwon

@guapgoddees @demigodmahash @cloud-lyy @heesky @ikaw-at-ikaw @shuichi-sama @shawnyle @kwhluv @iarainha @ikeuwoniee @mora134340 @firstclassjaylee

[ambi01]

Kinda wants you to write a full fic 😭

You’re Fired | psh

i wanna make this into a whole ass fic

You don’t flinch when Sunghoon places the resignation letter on your desk.

You don’t ask why.

You don’t beg.

You simply stare down at the envelope, then back at him.

Park Sunghoon, your secretary for the past two years, stands before you in his signature white dress shirt—rolled to the elbows, chest tight beneath fabric, navy tie slightly loose. He’s wearing those damn glasses again. The ones that make your insides clench.

“Two weeks’ notice,” he says. His voice is polite. Controlled. Almost cold. “I’ll assist with the transition and vet my replacement.”

You arch a brow. “You think you’re irreplaceable?”

His lips twitch. “You’d struggle.”

He’s not wrong. No one else has survived in his role for more than two weeks. Sunghoon knew your schedule, your moods, your silences. He handled you like he’d trained for it—and maybe he had. His efficiency was clinical. His banter, infuriating. His loyalty, dangerous.

And you? You were cold. Purposefully. You had to be.

You lean back in your leather chair, tapping a manicured finger on your desk. “You’ve worked under me for two years. Why quit now?”

His eyes meet yours. “Because I’m tired of wanting you.”

Your breath catches.

The air changes.

He straightens, gaze unwavering. “I’ve been your secretary, your assistant, your shield. I’ve watched every man in this company try to impress you, flirt with you, fail to reach you. I handled it. I was fine. Until I wasn’t.”

You clench your jaw, refusing to let him see the flicker of heat between your legs. “You’re crossing a line.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he says. “You think I don’t know exactly how fucked it is that I dream about fucking you on your desk almost every night?”

The words slap you.

But it’s not anger that rises in you.

It’s desire.

You stand slowly, walking around your desk until you’re toe-to-toe. His gaze drops—just for a second—to the slit in your pencil skirt.

Then rises. Daring.

“You want to fuck me?” you say softly.

He swallows. “Yes.”

You grab his tie and pull—hard.

He crashes into you, lips colliding in a kiss so filthy, it tears a whimper from your throat. Years of tension bleed into your grip as you push him against the edge of your desk. Your hands are on his chest, popping buttons open one by one.

He’s not shy.

He grabs your ass like he owns it and lifts you onto the desk, knocking over your pen holder. You gasp into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist as he ruts against your clothed core.

“You’re not supposed to touch your boss like this,” you whisper, tugging his glasses off and tossing them aside.

“I just quit,” he growls, biting your jaw, your throat. “What are you gonna do—fire me again?”

You pull his shirt from his waistband, fingers dragging across hard muscle. He groans when you undo his belt, the sound raw. Hungry. Yours.

You slide your hand down, palming him through his boxers, and he hisses.

“You’re hard already?” you smirk.

“Boss,” he groans, “you’ve had me hard for years.”

You shove your skirt up, underwear already soaked.

Sunghoon curses when he sees how wet you are.

“All that control,” he mutters, dragging his thumb over your folds. “And this pussy’s dripping for me.”

“You’re still speaking,” you snap.

And that’s all it takes for him to push your panties aside and sink into you in one deep, brutal thrust.

You cry out—loudly, unprofessionally, completely undone.

“Fuck,” he pants into your neck. “I knew you’d feel like this. Warm. Tight. Fucking perfect.”

He thrusts hard, setting a pace that makes your desk creak under you. One hand grips your thigh, the other fists your hair, holding your gaze.

“You don’t get to ignore me after this,” he growls. “You don’t get to pretend it didn’t happen.”

You dig your nails into his back. “Then fuck me harder.”

And he does.

You come around him, biting his shoulder to muffle your moan. He follows with a broken gasp of your name, spilling inside you with a final stuttered thrust.

For a moment, there’s only breath. Heat. Silence.

Then you smirk, chest still heaving.

“You’re fired.”

He laughs against your shoulder, still inside you. “Then I’ll reapply tomorrow.”

You don’t accept his resignation.

Instead, you promote him to Executive Advisor—with a new office next to yours and a glass wall that definitely won’t hide what the two of you get up to after hours.

And every time he wears those glasses, you ruin him.

On purpose.

[ambi01]

Lee Heeseung — REASONS TO (HATE) LOVE YOU

Your makeup is always intact, your hair is perfectly brushed, your clothes are always well-ironed and tidy, and your admirable grades are always on top. Many in the law course envy how you seem so perfect, unlike Lee Heeseung, who thinks everything about you is completely irritating. On the other hand, you can't stand Heeseung's arrogance. The way he always acts so pretentiously gets on your nerves, however, when you are forced to do a project together, you'll discover that this tension between you is much more than just hatred.

PAIRING: — Law Students - Heeseung x Reader (f)

GENRE: Academic rivals to lovers - (lower middle class) heeseung x (upper middle class) reader, fluffy, smut (mdni), a bit of angst - if you squint, super suggestive, slowburn.

WARNINGS: - lots of heavy making out (two in a bedroom and one in a storage room), lots of skinship, dirty talking, mutual pining, heavy sexual tension, yearning Heeseung, foreplay, soft dom Heeseung, teasing, petnames (baby, princess, pretty), skin marking (f receiving), unprotected sex, cursing, a few mentions of difficult family dynamics, miscommunication at the beginning, bickering, jealousy, Heeseung is kinda mean in the beginning but he becomes a loser and a simp (sorry not sorry), mentions of alcohol, cursing, a very brief mention of a man touching reader's shoulder in a non consensual way. + IVE's gaeul is reader's best friend. [reblogs and comments are always welcome]

WC: 28k — masterlist - perm taglist (open)

— Author Note: Guys, I'm back after a few months <3 It's finallyyyy hereee, I know it's big (I don't know how to write little when I get excited lmaooo sorry!!!) but I can guarantee you that it's fun since I wanted the story to give off rom-com vibes!! There are some specific legal concepts, but nothing too complicated to understand (I hope). I know that each country has its own legal system, so I used my country's legal system as a guide. Even though I proofread, it might have some typos. Anyways, I hope you guys like it ♡ If there are any errors pls lmk!!!

Since the beginning of human existence and during the formation of societies, law has been present. The norms and principles that governed ancient social groups were an archaic type of representation of what is known today as law. With the reformulation of how these laws should be formed after numerous social revolutions, law is still evolving, being considered one of the tools that keep human beings under control.

For some, the law itself is something to be feared, for others, something to be admired or somehow foreign. However, when it comes to law school, opinions differ.

For many laypeople, law school is a distant world, something unattainable and bureaucratic, that only forged and trained minds can reach. After all, dealing with the daily problems of human beings, but also understanding their treacherous nature requires a lot of vocation.

For Lee Heeseung, law is fascinating.

He finds it amazing the possibility to reach deep into society and cause a stir with some well-founded arguments. For Heeseung, there was a kind of freedom in knowing how the legal system in his country worked that fascinated him intrinsically. Heeseung has always been curious, especially because he wanted to understand why so many injustices could not be easily resolved. What was stopping a country from truly delivering justice?

But despite being an idealist, Heeseung learned that people can be hypocritical, cold, fake and especially selfish when it comes to something that is about their own interests. And perhaps that is the main reason why the system is so flawed.

Personally, Heeseung can't stand hypocrisy and in his opinion, everything about you screamed 'hypocrisy'. From the way you dressed and carried yourself to the way you spoke – everything irritated him. Initially, he didn't have this curious aversion towards you. He didn't really care about your presence, despite noticing that you drew attention wherever you went.

The hypnotized looks around you and the sneaky approaches trying to create some kind of bond with you demonstrated a clear situation: you were from an important family, or your beauty was a factor that contributed to that. This type of approach was expected within the law school, which was full of people who only cared about other people's backgrounds.

However, Heeseung only confirmed his suspicions when your surname began to be whispered in the hallways. Y/N Park, the famous daughter of a renowned attorney with a giant office in the city center.

Heeseung laughed at the irony: Of course, you are just another privileged rich girl who is only in college as a rite of passage with a ready and perfect pass to a job already premeditated by your father.

There were many people like this in law school, but for some unknown reason you affected Heeseung differently. The way you presented yourself perfectly, without any flaws, almost theatrically bothered him.

But even though he knew you were the type of girl he wouldn't want to get close to, his disdain began to increase after a specific episode. It all started when you were in Criminology class and there was a free debate going on about the ‘Historical Development of Criminology' and what impact it had on law in the modern world.

You were explaining about the evolution of the concept of crime, and how Cesare Beccaria had contributed to the Classical School of Criminology, in which the concept of crime is based on what is in the law with a focus on restoring social order and the criminal justice system, given that the free and conscious choice of a delinquent to commit a crime affected not only the victim, but the entire society.

According to your train of thought, there are social factors that influence people to commit petty crimes and that would eventually be appreciated in other modern schools. But even with your impeccable contribution, Heeseung couldn't take you seriously when he saw you using an overpriced bag while criticizing the dry theory of the classical school.

Heeseung was no fool, he knew that life wasn't fair and there would be people in better financial situations than him. In fact, he had fought hard to get into a good university and study law, so he had a pride about his academic achievements, but there was something about you that drove him crazy. He couldn't put it into words, but you triggered specific emotions in his brain — and the main one was agitation.

So, for every argument you brought up, he inevitably countered with something new. What was supposed to be just a friendly debate between classmates turned into a heated argument between you and him.

“I agree, however, if you allow me to make a brief criticism, we know that even with social issues involved, the key point of free will and the delinquent’s conscious choice to commit a crime – an argument that came from the classical school – is taken into consideration today as well.” Heeseung countered, making you sigh for having cut off your train of thought.

“Of course, but it doesn’t change the fact that social issues have a great weight in this matter.” You leaned over the table and he chuckled “Yes, I agree that they do have an influence, but you must admit that even with all the influence in the world, we know that it's not that simple to understand the conscience of an individual who commits crimes.”

Even though he didn't say much, Heeseung saw how irritated you were: you seemed out of breath, your eyebrows were furrowed, and your gaze was fixed on him. And it was at that exact moment — when your eyes locked for a few seconds and he smirked — that he knew that irritating you would be his new entertainment.

For the first time in his life, he had seen you make an expression other than your serious one or the one with that meticulously adjusted smile you gave when you wanted to appear overly polite. Seeing how he pressed the specific buttons to irritate you was the new entertainment that was missing in Heeseung's college life, and it made him more elated than it should have been.

And this brief rivalry that was born unexpectedly in a debate, continued to extend to test scores, projects and final evaluations in the following semesters. Heeseung couldn't deny that you were very intelligent because he had lost 1st place in many situations, but that didn't discourage him and instead motivated him even more, because each perfect 100 that he achieved and threw in your face was absolutely satisfying.

So Heeseung's college life became hectic, as he was the famous student brave enough to face the "queen" of the course.

The one and only— Lee Heeseung —the reason for your extra study sessions, as you swore you would never let yourself lose to Heeseung in any aspect of academic life.

After all, nothing was better than the feeling of beating Heeseung at the very game he created.

☆

Your reflection in the bedroom mirror seemed to show that everything was in perfect order. Your hair was neat, your clothes were well-ironed, and the hydrated glow of your skin was even more noticeable that late afternoon. But in reality, you were distracted, reflecting on your past.

When you were in high school, your father gave you two options for college:

1) Med school or 2) Law school. That's it.

Unfortunately, you had no choice or desire of your own regarding your future, because according to your father, all that mattered was studying something with a “financial return”. In a way, you understood your father's vision, because he was a man who had suffered from poverty and hunger in the past, and became who he is with a lot of pain and sacrifice. However, the pressure and responsibility that came with being his daughter were very heavy.

A man who had been brutalized by the hard life he had led could not think of other realities in life. Your father didn’t believe in “talents” or “gifts” that couldn’t pay the bills. It didn't matter how good you were at some sport or art-related hobby. If it didn’t bring money home it shouldn’t be pursued – or worse, desired and dreamed of.

When he wanted to talk to you about something specific, he would always call you to his personal office. The same office that you found terrifying because it was so impersonal. The dark gray walls, the low lighting, and the plain furniture, without any memorabilia, photos, or any kind of decoration that would indicate any personality trait — everything gave off a cold, indifferent, distant air.

Since work had consumed his life, you knew you had to take advantage of these minutes of interaction with your father. He would often sit there, typing and reading cases on the computer, with his attention 100% focused on the screen that must have contained sensitive information (that was what your curious mind used to believe).

“You understand, right sweetie? I only want the best for you.” Your father would often take your hand and squeeze it gently as wrinkles crept into the corners of his eyes with the small smile he gave you “Yes, father. I understand.” You would respond like a perfect little doll who obeyed without questioning his ideas.

But even though you’d done everything your father had told you to do up until now, you knew that this wasn't the path you wanted to follow forever.

You wanted options. Options for what to do with your future that didn’t involve working in your father’s office. This expectation that everyone around you has that you will become the next face of your father's office is like a weight that you have to carry, but you’ve already decided that your path will be different.

But no one besides your best friend knows about it.

Luckily, you had always liked law, so you had delved deeper into the careers you could pursue over time. The prosecutor's office seemed interesting, after all, criminal law is a passion of yours. Unlike your father, who liked corporate and civil law, which is why he had all kinds of demands in his office.

However, you could try to become an attorney at another firm and gain experience in another area of law. There were certainly many options for you to explore, and fortunately there was still time for you to figure out what you really wanted to do, and the next steps to take.

As you wandered through thoughts about your future, your best friend and roommate, Gaeul, snapped you out of your prolonged reverie.

“Are you going out?” she was holding a bag of potato chips when she appeared at your bedroom door “I’m going to another extra study session.” You gave her a delicate smile and picked up your bag before heading towards Gaeul who looked at you suspiciously “Again?”

“Sure, why not?” Gaeul sighed “You know you don’t have to do all of this to beat Heeseung.” she followed you through the small dorm “You’re already too good, I don’t understand this rivalry between you two.”

“Gaeul, it’s much more than rivalry.” You took out your keys to open the front door “It’s a matter of honor! I can’t lose to that prick.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure...” she laughed before taking another bite of the potato chip “Have fun babe!” You blew an air kiss that made Gaeul make a funny face “I will!”

☆

The library was quiet, with the perfect atmosphere for a late afternoon study session. This time of day was always your favorite, the sun setting through the window and the tranquility of the place made the environment completely cozy, even if you had to read something grueling.

You were reading the work of a famous criminal law scholar when your peace was interrupted by the soft tapping of fingers on the table in front of you. “Busy?” Heeseung’s unmistakable ironic voice made you take a deep breath, trying not to get irritated by his mocking manner.

One of the rules you strictly follow is that you won’t interact with Lee Heeseung unless it is absolutely necessary. Even though you are a calm and reserved person, the slightest interaction with Heeseung somehow stresses you out.

“Can’t you see I’m obviously studying?” Heeseung felt the vein in his neck throb in irritation and clicked his tongue when he saw how you didn’t even look at his face to answer him.

“Well, I think you need to see this.” he placed the paper in front of your eyes. Reluctantly you placed the book on the table and held the sheet up, looking at the contents of what was there “What is this?” You asked in disbelief as you saw your name paired next to Heeseung’s under a title that said ‘international law project’.

“Are you surprised?” You turned to Heeseung with wide eyes “As you can see, we are partners in Mrs. Jung’s project.” for the first time that day, all of your focus faded in a matter of seconds.

'No. No. No. This couldn't be happening. Me and Lee Heeseung together? In a project?'

“What do you mean? How the hell did this happen?” Heeseung took the liberty of sitting next to you. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair “I don’t know either. Earlier I was leaving an extracurricular activity when Jay called me to look at the bulletin board because the pairings for the new project in the international law class had been announced.”

You stopped for a moment and began to remember that in the last international law class, Mrs. Jung had said that there would be a new project for that semester and that she didn't like to draw pairs, so she would choose the pairs herself.

And with the immense luck you had, she decided that the partner who would suit you best would be Lee Heeseung, out of the entire class.

“When I got close to the mural, Jay was staring at me with a hilarious face.” Heeseung gave a clearly frustrated sigh as he ran his hand over his face “I just didn’t expect it to be because of this.”

“This has to be a mistake.” It couldn’t be true. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Unfortunately, it’s true, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Your eyebrows furrowed at Heeseung, who seemed too resigned for your liking “I’m not going to do this project with you, I– we have to talk to the teacher.”

Heeseung gave you a wry laugh “You can try talking to her, but it won’t work.” he picked up the paper from the table and analyzed the names again as if to confirm that it was real “The seniors already told me that Mrs. Jung is strict and doesn’t make exceptions for anything. She never changes her plan.”

Your stomach began to feel heavy with the anxiety that was building up. You also heard these rumors from a senior who had given you tips about the worst teachers she had to deal with.

“I don’t care, I’ll talk to her.”

“Do whatever you want, I warned you.” Heeseung gave you one last pitiful look and got up from his chair “Are you going to leave like that? We need to talk about this.” he looked at you and shrugged his shoulders putting his hands in his coat pockets “The teacher isn’t here right now, we’ll look into this tomorrow.”

If there was something about Heeseung that really stressed you out, it was his attitude like he knew everything and had everything under control. As if he was better than everyone else.

“But we need to align what should be said!” You countered and Heeseung sighed, running his thumb and index finger over his furrowed eyebrows “God, you’re so annoying.”

Your breath stopped for a moment. How could Lee Heeseung have the audacity to call you annoying? Him of all people? The most insufferable person of all?

“What did you say?!” You stood up from your chair “Say that again!”

He smirked and took a step closer to you “You’re annoying.” Your blood was boiling as his face was just above yours “Everything about you irritates me.”

“Look who’s talking.” You scoffed and pointed at Heeseung with your index finger “You’re completely unbearable and you want to talk about me?”

Heeseung's jaw clenched, and you smirked, seeing how he was also clearly irritated by your response "Heeseung, I'm gonna be honest with you. I think you're just an arrogant prick, and I have no interest in working with you." You gave him a false smile while he frowned.

"Well, I feel the same." he said through gritted teeth and walked away "We'll sort this out tomorrow."

"Great." You took the paper and put it inside your book and closed it. Your desire to study had completely disappeared, and now you needed to think about how to talk to Mrs. Jung, because no way in hell you are going to pair up with Heeseung.

No way.

☆

The international law class was lasting longer than usual that Wednesday.

Your legs were shaking as anxiety corroded your entire body. Heeseung looked calm, his head resting on his right hand as he sat a few chairs in front of you. He had no idea of the storm that was happening inside you.

You had to convince the teacher that she needed to choose another partner for you. Anyone would do, even the slowest human being you could handle, except Lee Heeseung. Not him. Doing a project with him would be extremely stressful. You even felt a pang in your head when you imagined the stupid arguments you would have over simple things.

The truth is that initially you didn't care much for Heeseung, but you started to notice that since the beginning of college he did everything he could to talk back to you. He could never agree with you 100%, no matter the topic. So over time you started to nurture these feelings of rivalry and irritation towards him.

It was unbearable how he acted as if he was better than you and tried to prove it at all costs. That's why you made the decision to never let him surpass you, even in simple college activities. You would beat Lee Heeseung, even if it cost you a few more hours of studying.

However, now with this shared project this would certainly be a problem.

When class ended and the students left one by one, Heeseung calmly put his materials in his bag, as if he knew that his stoicism would irritate you. Mrs. Jung was sitting in her chair as she finished organizing some papers when you slowly approached.

“Uh, excuse me, Mrs. Jung. Can I have a few words with you?” Your soft voice drew the teacher’s attention away from her papers, who smiled back at you “Oh, miss Park, of course. How can I help you?”

You bit your lower lip hesitantly as the teacher looked at you carefully “It’s about the recent international law project; I saw that it’s going to be in pairs.” the teacher’s smile widened “Yes, I think it will be a great project for you.” she stood up from her chair holding the sheets “Is there a problem?”

“Actually, there is.” You were hoping internally that your nervousness wouldn’t show too much “I noticed that you chose Heeseung to be my partner, but since we’re not very close, I don’t think it’ll work out.” the teacher’s eyes seemed attentive to you “Then I’d like to ask about the possibility of changing partners.”

Mrs. Jung gave you a small sigh before offering you a gentle smile “Unfortunately, that won’t be possible, miss Park. Since I’ve already separated all the pairs, they’ve already started their research. Besides, it would be problematic to disrupt this entire system because of a request.” You started to feel despair set in your bones “I understand, Mrs. Jung, but it really will be difficult to work with Hees–”

“Miss Park, I chose Heeseung to be your partner because I think you two would be a great pair.” she interrupted you, leaving you speechless “What do you mean?”

The teacher seemed to think for a moment “I think you are a good match. You bring out the best in each other, and I think you will do a fabulous job with this research.”

Heeseung had arrived at exactly this time and stood frozen beside you.

“But—” You were cut off again by the teacher “The pairings will not be changed and this is final, miss Park. Okay?”

“Alright… Thank you for listening to me, Mrs. Jung.” she smiled before grabbing her bag “You’re welcome. I’m looking forward to seeing what you guys come up with.”

Heeseung watched you from the corner of his eye as the teacher left first. You were paralyzed as if a lightning had struck you.

“I told you she wouldn’t change her mind.” he broke the silence and you grimaced in pain.

“Oh, shut up.” You left first trying to accept the idea that you would have to put up with Heeseung as your partner for the rest of the semester.

Heeseung was having an internal debate as he waited for class to end. He didn't know whether he should talk to you and decide to start this research right away or wait for you to say something.

He had sat a few chairs behind you and saw how focused you seemed in class. For the first time this semester, he couldn't pay attention to what was being taught. How was he going to work with the girl he couldn't stand? And worse: for an entire semester? Not even in his worst dreams did he imagine something like this would happen.

As he pondered what to do, Jake glared at him with the corner of his eye “Dude, you’re making a scary face.”

Heeseung looked away and ran his hand through his dark hair “Sorry, I was distracted.”

“Distracted?” Jake smirked “You looked like a creepy staring at her.” Heeseung sighed “I  have to do the international law project with her.”

Jake put his hand over his mouth to contain the laugh that was threatening to escape “Oh man, you’re screwed.”

“I know.” Heeseung leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself “I need to talk to her.”

“Good luck.” Jake gave him a side smile and shook his head as Heeseung remained with his eyes closed.

When class ended, Heeseung gathered all the courage he had and walked towards you. You also looked haggard. Although your clothes were perfect and your hair was as shiny as ever, the circles under your eyes showed your tiredness as you put your materials in your bag.

A small smile began to form on Heeseung’s face, but he held it back. He couldn’t laugh at your face when he knew that he also had to accept the reality that you would have to put up with each other for the next few months.

“Hey.” that was all Heeseung could say as he watched you approach him “Hi.” Your dry response made the atmosphere heavy.

“I need your phone number to schedule the meetings about our project.” he was trying to be civil, no one could complain about that.

You sighed, showing your clear lack of interest in any conversation with him “Okay.”

Heeseung was really holding back his sharp mouth, but you weren't making it easy.

The way your hand handed your phone while you looked away irritated Heeseung deeply “Do you always have to be this petty?”

“What?” You asked confused as he finished putting his number into your phone “Can’t you interact for 5 minutes without being petty? Is it that hard?”

In your mind you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Lee Heeseung wanting to lecture you about pettiness?

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re the one who can’t go 5 minutes without criticizing anything I do.” Heeseung bit his lower lip, trying to hold his tongue. He was already upset, and you weren’t helping.

“Probably because you don’t make it easier?” he sighed and ran his fingertips over his temples, trying to regain his former calm state “You know what, forget about it. Have you saved my number?” his patience was running out, and so was yours.

“Yes, unfortunately.” You whispered the last part, which didn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung.

“See you after class.” he put his phone in his pocket and his backpack on his right shoulder.

You just nodded and left first.

'Yeah, this is really going to be difficult.' Heeseung thought before leaving the room with his mind messed up by the simple interaction you two had.

☆

The library was relatively crowded, but since you previously arranged with Heeseung, you managed to arrive together at the same time.

“Well, look at that. Lee Heeseung isn’t late, I'm surprised.” You teased as you sat down and took your laptop out of your bag.

“Tsk.” Heeseung clicked his tongue as he placed his notebooks on the table “Of course. The sooner we start, the sooner I can leave.” he replied, thinking about how he wanted this torture to end once and for all.

“Finally you said something I agree with.” You retorted as you opened a blank Word document and began sorting through your materials.

Heeseung had already noticed that you liked everything organized. Your materials were always organized in the same way: pens, laptop and a notebook lined up.

“Well, do you have any ideas or suggestions on what we can do?” Heeseung was a little surprised by your question, after all, he expected you to decide everything at once and create a big fight if he disagreed.

“I think this subject is too extensive, we can’t do a generic theme.” You nodded as you stared at the laptop screen “That makes sense. I think we should dive deeper into some specific subjects.”

“I usually research and read about the subject superficially before diving into complicated concepts.” Heeseung showed the sheet of paper from his notebook that had some sketches of past summaries he had done in other subjects.

“International law is a pain because if we read about everything, we’ll waste a lot of time.” You commented, scratching your head, feeling frustrated “Let’s choose some subjects we like and see which ones are the best.”

“Fine.” Heeseung just wanted to get it over with.

For the next 10 minutes you were in complete silence. As if it was a silent mutual agreement that you would only speak if it was absolutely necessary.

Interestingly, the discomfort was bearable. Was it strange that you were sitting side by side without saying anything? Yes, but at least when you didn't say anything, you didn't fight, and that was enough for the moment.

“These are my suggestions.” You looked at the list Heeseung had made, but one suggestion in particular caught your eye.

“Post-war law?” You tilted your head to the side “It’s too generic and complicated, we need to think about it.” Heeseung sighed “How can this be too generic? It’s literally about the law after wars.”

You mockingly laughed “Exactly. What kind of wars are you talking about? Because we can’t talk about every war in existence.” Heeseung felt a stab of anger in his head.

“So, what are your suggestions, genius?” Heeseung’s pejorative tone wasn’t enough to make you lose your patience, so you turned the laptop screen to show your contribution.

“We can talk about certain differences in the legal system in some countries and filter out only the most interesting ones.” Heeseung snorted and pointed at your laptop screen “That’s as generic as my suggestion!”

“Of course not!” clearly the discussion would not end there “We can only choose a few countries.”

“And we could talk about a few wars, for example the most famous ones? Like World War I or World War II?” his ironic tone gave you the creeps, in a bad way.

“It’s still a very simple theme, we should do something more elaborated.” You turned your laptop screen towards you and Heeseung took a deep breath.

“And isn’t your topic simple?” he approached you and looked into your eyes “You just want to do what’s convenient for you, as always.”

“What do you mean by that?” The tone of your voice clearly showed that you were now very mad. How could Heeseung make a single task so difficult?

“Forget it, you wouldn’t understand.” he whispered, clearly irritated.

Another 10 minutes of complete silence. Neither you nor Heeseung wanted to say anything else. It was clear that this would be a difficult task, but you tried to be rational and calm down.

What was at stake here was your grade, your academic record, and your future. You couldn't let Heeseung be an obstacle in your path.

“Look, let’s get one thing straight.” You turned to Heeseung who gave you a lazy look “It’s clear we don’t like each other.”

“Hm.” Heeseung nodded and waved his hands in the air as if he wanted you to get to the point quickly.

“But I don’t care about that. What I really care about is my grades, so if I have to do this damn project with you, I’ll do it.” Heeseung kept looking at you, waiting for you to finish “So, if you put your childishness aside for a moment and really help me, we’ll be able to finish this today.”

You were clearly nervous and out of patience.

“Then, can you please cooperate with me?” Heeseung somehow felt a bit remorseful, thinking that perhaps he had overreacted with the way you seemed to beg for the two of you to end this quickly.

“Okay, we clearly can’t reach a consensus, so let’s use another method.” he pulled his chair closer to you “What are you doing?”

“What do you like?” his bright, dark eyes stared into yours with intensity “What are you most comfortable with in international law?”

“I like the criminal part.” You whispered a little shyly as he got closer to you “Good.” Heeseung began to write in his notebook “I like the human rights part, especially the Post-World War II issue.”

You watched as he outlined the topics you both liked.

“Let’s research these themes and at the next meeting we’ll decide what to do.” he said and leaned back in his chair, looking at you.

“Okay. This might work.” You nodded, thinking it might be a good idea.

“It’ll work.” There it was. The tone of absolute certainty in Heeseung’s voice that usually irritated you, but this time you were satisfied that you had managed to reach a consensus.

“Okay, I’ll start now.” You stood up and headed towards some books in the international law section of the library, while Heeseung decided to research on the internet.

The rest of the meeting you were silent, researching the topics, but this time it wasn't awkward or heavy. You were just two students focusing on what you needed to do.

And that was enough for now.

“So, how is your international law project going?” Jay brought up the topic while he, Jake, and Heeseung were gathered in the campus cafeteria.

“Don’t remind me of that.” he sighed as he sipped on a soda “We managed to have a fight before the first meeting.”

“Damn, you guys are too complicated.” Jake commented with a smile “Luckily my partner on the project is Jay.” he fist bumped Jay.

“You guys are lucky. We’re trying to be civil, but sometimes it’s unavoidable not to get angry.” Jay narrowed his eyes as he studied his friend trying to understand why Heeseung seemed so reactive to you “You guys should see the way she acts. It’s like she does this on purpose to irritate me!”

“Can you believe the Mrs. Jung said she put us together because she thought we were a good match?” Heeseung gave a wry smile while Jake and Jay looked at each other with a knowing look and mocking smiles “She said I brought out the best in her, some shit like that.”

“Well, I somewhat agree.” Jay countered Heeseung “Since you two started interacting, you’ve become more dedicated to your studies.”

“Real, brother. You worry more about her than yourself when exam week comes.” Jake blurted out, and Jay laughed, making Heeseung stunned by his friend's confession.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Heeseung sighed “I don’t care about her. I just like being the best in the class! That’s all.”

Jay smirked and put his arm around his friend's shoulder “Sure, sure… but you can't deny she's hot.”

Heeseung stood frozen in place at what Jay had said. He wasn't blind, he knew you were a beautiful woman, but that didn't change the fact that you were annoying to him.

“None of that changes the fact that she’s annoying.” Heeseung looked away as Jake and Jay chuckled.

“In my opinion, I think you lowkey admire her, but you can’t admit it and that’s why you act like that.” Jake teased Heeseung who was stunned “Just admit you’re into her man, it’s okay.” Jay said and Jake snickered “Huh? You guys are crazy.” he got up from his chair and decided to leave while Jay and Jake laughed.

“C'mon Heeseung! Don't run away like that!” Jake and Jay stood up and decided to follow him while Heeseung went ahead.

So what if you were pretty and attractive? That didn't change anything.

You were still the rich girl he couldn't stand.

☆

After a few days of research, you and Heeseung decided to have a meeting to decide on the final theme for your project.

It was already 16:24 in the afternoon and he still hadn't arrived, which was strange because Heeseung was always on time. Being late for more than 20 minutes wasn't like him.

Before you could text him, Heeseung hurried into the library. He was more casual than ever, wearing a dark gray sweater and a beanie, and you noticed that he was pale with slightly red cheeks and nose.

“Sorry for the delay, something’s got in the way.” he sounded haggard and strangely tired. His voice was hoarser than usual and you could tell he wasn’t doing very well.

“Are you okay?” You asked worriedly. Even though he was annoying, he clearly didn’t look okay “If you’re not okay, we can postpone it and–”

“I'm fine.” he cut you off in a harsh tone “Let's get this over with.” You stared at him in disbelief at the way he was acting.

“Wow.” You spoke ironically and didn’t hold back “Heeseung, what the hell is wrong with you?”

He closed his eyes temporarily, trying not to say anything. As if any noise would hurt like hell inside his head.

“I was just worried because you’re clearly not okay. If you want to be a jerk, then you can be by yourself.” You got up from the chair trying to leave and Heeseung grabbed your wrist “Let go of me.” You looked at his hand around your wrist and felt tortured by how soft and large his hand was compared to yours.

“I’m sorry.” Heeseung opened his eyes slightly and looked at you in a way that you swore you almost saw some kind of affection “Don’t go, please.”

You swallowed hard and sat back down on the chair, seeing how regretful Heeseung looked. “I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just…” he sighed as if he didn’t want to admit his weakness “The truth is, I caught a cold and I’m not feeling very well, but I didn’t want to postpone our meeting.”

“Heeseung, you’re sick! We can do this in a few days, we still have time.” You looked at Heeseung with pity, who coughed a little “You need to recover, come on.”

He let go of your wrist, turning his gaze to you, who stood up again “But what about choosing the theme for our project?” he clearly seemed worried about the project, and you sighed.

“You’re not in a position to study, you need to prioritize your health.” Heeseung watched you grab your bag “We’ll decide that after you recover.”

Heeseung just nodded. At that moment he didn't want to argue or study, he just wanted his bed and sleep for the next 10 hours straight.

“Come on, I’ll accompany you.” You waited for Heeseung to leave first and followed him, after all, how could you trust a guy who was clearly sick.

Before he could leave campus, you bought a warm drink from a vending machine that was right next to the door.

“Here.” You handed the can to Heeseung “It’s good for you, it’s orange juice so it must have vitamin C.”

“Okay, thanks mom.” he replied and your eyes widened at his audacity “Hey!”

“I was joking, silly.” Heeseung gave you a smirk that disconcerted you.

It was the first time he had ever genuinely smiled at you. It wasn't a mocking smile or a fake smile after he said the most passive-aggressive thing possible. He was actually giving you a genuine, real smile.

And you definitely didn't want to admit that he had a very beautiful smile.

“Well, uh… anyways, take your medicine and recover. We’ll reschedule the meeting.” he looked down at the hot drink and gave you another smile before looking back at you. “Okay, see you later.” He – shockingly – kindly said “Thank you.” his gaze was fixed on yours, and for some reason, it made you feel embarrassed.

“It’s nothing.” You looked away “See you later.”

He gave you one last smile before leaving first. As you watched him walk away you began to wonder what kind of man Lee Heeseung was, who insisted on going to your meeting even though he was sick.

☆

You were choosing a movie to watch with Gaeul when your phone vibrated. Gaeul was putting the freshly popped popcorn in the bowl when you saw on your phone that surprisingly Heeseung had texted you.

[Lee Heestupid] — Hey

[Lee Heestupid] — Just wanted to say thank you for the orange juice.

21:46 pm

You smiled a little, seeing that he had the courage to send you a message about something that isn’t your project.

[You] — It's nothing. Are you feeling better?

21:48 pm

[Lee Heestupid] — Yeah, I'm way better now.

[Lee Heestupid] — If you're free, let's meet tomorrow for our project.

21:51 pm

[You] — Sure, it works for me.

21:52 pm

[Lee Heestupid] — Great

[Lee Heestupid] — See you then

21:53pm

[You] — See you.

21:53pm

“Who are you talking to?” Gaeul asked suspiciously as she approached your couch “I was just rescheduling the project meeting with Heeseung.” You locked your phone and tapped the fabric of the couch next to you indicating that you wanted her to sit there.

She stopped in her tracks and gave you a mischievous smile, looking at you. “I can’t believe you were smiling like that while you were texting Heeseung.” You rolled your eyes at Gaeul's suggestive tone “What do you mean? I was normal.” You looked away to the TV “Nuh-uh.” She was clearly enjoying the whole thing “I think you’re starting to like him after all this time.”

“Girl, you’re crazy.” You sighed thinking about Gaeul’s fertile mind and she sat next to you hugging your arm “Come on, admit that you changed your conception of him. Even if it’s just a little.”

You paused for a moment and thought “He’s still insufferable, but this time he was polite.” Gaeul chuckled, taking a handful of popcorn. “Oh, this is going to be interesting.”

“Babe, let’s just watch the movie.” You changed the subject and Gaeul was laughing beside you “Okaaaay.”

☆

As much as you didn't want to admit it, the atmosphere between you and Heeseung had certainly changed a bit. It was noticeable that although his thoughtless sarcasm hadn't changed, you two fought less about your project. Heeseung's posture was still as confident as ever, but a part of you had gotten used to this eccentric trait of his. Maybe he was naturally like this in any area of his life, or maybe he was forced to be like this.

“While I was recovering, I thought about how to combine our interests in our project.” Heeseung looked much better. His face had a healthy glow, his lips were pinker and, curiously, you noticed how his nose was perfectly shaped. Did he always have this insane profile?

“What’s your suggestion?” You asked, adjusting your seat, trying to dispel the strange thoughts that were distracting you “We can talk about criminal accountability and the evolution of post-war human rights within international law.”

You thought for a moment “That might work.” The smile that formed on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung who was taken aback “It’s just going to be harder than expected, since it’s a topic that we’re going to have to delve into in depth so we can’t leave any gaps.”

“I accept the challenge.” He smirked while looking into your eyes “And what about you? Are you scared?” You rolled your eyes, seeing how he never misses an opportunity to tease you.

“Of course not.” You snorted “You know I never run away from a challenge. After all, I’m the best in the class.” Heeseung’s eyebrow twitched slightly at your insinuation “Actually, we’re tied and you know it.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right.” You sighed “But it doesn’t change the fact that we’ll have to work hard with this topic.” Heeseung gave an airy laugh through his nose seeing how excited you were “Indeed, but at least we were able to officially set the theme of our project.”

“Now we need to define the next steps.” You stretched your arms and Heeseung couldn’t help but see part of your waist when your shirt rose slightly “I guess that’s a good idea, because we also have to study for that civil law presentation in three weeks.” He looked away to the screen of his laptop.

You widened your eyes and turned to Heeseung “Oh my God, I thought it would be in a month!” Opening your tablet's calendar you came across the date marked on a Tuesday in three weeks “I was so worried about our project that I lost track of time.”

“You're welcome.” Heeseung said without looking at you as he researched the subjects he needed to study for your project “It seems like I’m taking up too much of your mind for you to forget a presentation.” He snickered and you grimaced.

“Ugh, you wish.” You sighed as you typed on your laptop causing Heeseung to give you an enigmatic smile.

Yeah. As you thought, Lee Heeseung was still a pain in the ass.

Miraculously, after weeks of not going out, Heeseung was at a party. Contrary to what many people think, Heeseung doesn't go out to many parties. Since he has a scholarship to take care of, his main focus is on studying. However, when he has some free time, he allows himself the luxury of enjoying some kind of fun.

Today was no different as Jake managed to convince him that he needed to clear his head after being sick.

Since part of the international law project was well underway and he had made progress on his civil law assignment, he allowed himself to relax for a few hours at that random party on a Friday. Jake and Jay seemed more lively, taking advantage of the opportunity to play beer pong with boys from other courses.

Heeseung had been drinking for a while now, but nothing seemed very interesting. The music was great, but he was still feeling tired from working twice as hard during the week, so he decided to sit on an old couch that was empty. As he slowly drank, he began to analyze his surroundings, and noticed that he was surrounded by couples or people who were there with the aim of flirting and hooking up with someone.

Personally, Heeseung didn't have many girlfriends. He had gone on a few dates, talked to a few girls, and even had a serious girlfriend for a year and a few months during high school, but nothing had lasted that long. Life hadn't been easy for Heeseung's family, so all he could think about was how he needed to help out at home with the money from tiring part-time jobs and how to pay for his upcoming college expenses.

Love was a distant topic for Heeseung.

Most of the time he was worried about his future and the reality he wanted to improve. That's why love and relationships were foreign subjects on his mind. Jake used to say that he needed to relax a bit and at least try to meet someone during college, but he was too busy.

Too busy studying, working and self-improving but mainly busy thinking about you.

The amount of times you wandered through his mind seemed unhealthy. It was as if you were always there unconsciously, terrorizing the corners of Heeseung's mind. Like a presence he couldn't get rid of, like you were a sticker glued in the album of his thoughts.

He always swore he didn't care much about your appearance, but his breath caught for a moment when from afar he saw you with a short black skirt and a brown turtleneck blouse clinging to your torso. Heeseung felt his body sober up in an instant and he leaned over his knees so he could confirm his suspicion.

That shiny hair and that unique smile were unmistakable in his eyes. Yes, it was you.

Heeseung swallowed hard and felt strange for not being able to take his eyes off you. “Sure, sure… but you can't deny she's hot.” Jay's sentence from that day kept echoing in Heeseung's mind as he tried to convince himself that this was no big deal.

You've always been beautiful. No, you're always impeccable. As if you never had a bad day, you're always well-tied up, wearing a sweet perfume, unbeatable, gorgeous... stunning. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. In a way, your determination to always show your best version is impressive, especially in the world of law where Heeseung knows how much appearances matter.

But he never really stopped to look at you. Heeseung’s judgment was always clouded by his anger at what you represented. At the spoiled, privileged girl who would never experience what it was like to suffer from not having enough money for leisure or having every penny counted to pay the bills.

Your existence was almost an affront to him—even though you had never done anything to him.

But even though he knew all of this. Even though he had convinced himself that you were his rival, his eyes couldn't take their eyes off your figure. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or the fatigue, but your legs seemed even more toned under the dark blue light of the place.

He swallowed hard, seeing how your eyes seemed to sparkle as you talked to a girl beside you that he assumed it was your best friend. Have you always had an outfit that adorned your waist flawlessly like that?

'It's okay, I can admire a beautiful woman.' Heeseung argued in his own mind as if he needed to justify himself for the thoughts he was having at that moment.

Thoughts of how hauntingly attractive you are.

Heeseung bent the cup he was holding a little from squeezing it so hard and ran his hand over his face. He was wondering if he should talk to you or just let it go. Even if he decided to go to you, what would he say? 'Hi, good to see you project partner.'? Absolutely not. That would be too pathetic of him.

After a few seconds of struggling, he decided to stay still. It could have been really awkward if he tried to say something out of the blue. Besides, you were with your friend, so he decided he wouldn't bother you.

However, as if life was playing tricks on Heeseung, he saw a weird man approaching you. A guy he had seen before at the party, and who was clearly not feeling well after drinking way past his limits. From afar Heeseung watched with his eyes as the clueless guy approached and tried to say something to you, which showed instant discomfort.

When the guy dared to touch your shoulder, Heeseung stood up at the same time, feeling his blood boil. You had a frown on your face and were obviously saying no. Even with the loud music, he could tell that you weren't enjoying that approach by the gestures you were making as you got away from the guy.

As he couldn't contain himself, Heeseung stomped towards him and pushed the guy back hard with his forearm. In a single movement he hugged your waist and pulled you towards him, slamming your back into his chest.

“Hey! Are you stupid? She said no!” Heeseung spoke harshly and you turned your face to him, shocked by the situation “Get the hell out of here, son of a bitch!”

“Ahh shi–” before the guy could finish his sentence Heeseung pushed him hard and the guy staggered back while cursing some swear words. The people around started staring at the guy who was clearly drunk and out of his mind.

“Let’s get out of here.” He whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You just nodded and turned around with Heeseung as the other guy walked away aimlessly, bumping into other people.

As Heeseung led you through the crowd, your heart was racing. In less than 10 minutes of partying, Gaeul had gone to the bathroom, a drunk man disturbed you, Heeseung had saved you and now had his arm behind your back and his right hand firmly gripped on your waist while the other made room for you to pass.

It was almost like a scene from a movie where the security guard makes room for the protagonist to pass without touching anyone.

Your mind was spiraling when you arrived at the backyard near the kitchen that didn't have many people and had a bench for you to sit on. Heeseung let go of you and closed the kitchen door behind him seeing how shocked you looked at everything that happened.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung’s gentle tone made you finally look at him that night.

Your breath hitched and your mouth hung open seeing that he was wearing a white tank top showing his collarbone, a silver chain over it, an open dark gray jacket and dark jeans.

“Yes...” You felt your cheeks heat up as you noticed how his intense dark eyes didn’t look away from yours “Thank you, Heeseung.” You shyly mumbled feeling your stomach stir as he sighed, running his hand through his hair which was slightly messy, showing a bit of his forehead.

Even if you wanted to deny it, it would be an obvious lie, because clearly Lee Heeseung was so hot that you were at a loss for words.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can get you a water or something.” He looked genuinely concerned and didn't know what to do to make you feel better, but you smiled gently. “It’s okay, really.” You sighed in relief “You really helped me out back there. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, as a man it’s what I should do.” He sat down next to you “That guy is an idiot; I should’ve kicked his ass.” You laughed and propped your face on the back of your hand looking at Heeseung “It would have been great entertainment, but you don’t need to harm yourself because of a drunk idiot.”

Heeseung allowed himself to relax after what happened “I guess you’re right… but what really matters is that you’re okay.”

“I am, thanks to you who saved me.” Heeseung gave an almost imperceptible smile, slightly embarrassed by the tone of your voice, but he calmed down when he saw how you looked fine and out of danger. You continued to observe Heeseung's face thinking how curious it was how different he looked when he genuinely smiled.

Heeseung's smile is splendid, like the perfect complement to his handsome profile.

He turned to you and suddenly you felt aware of his gaze.

“To be honest, I was surprised to see you here.” Heeseung confessed “I don’t remember seeing you at the parties I went to.”

He noticed how you gave a weak smile and looked up at the starry sky “It’s because I’ve only been to a few parties since I came to college.”

“Because of studies?” He asked and you nodded “That’s all I care about honestly.”

He gave an empathetic side smile “I know how it is… I can’t fail my grades.”

“You gotta be on top of the class, don’t you?” You teased him with your sarcastic tone and he rolled his eyes smiling “It’s not just that.”

“So, what’s the reason?” You turned and asked him, feeling curious, as he looked at you for a few brief seconds.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment as he didn't know what your stance would be towards his answer, but a part of him wanted to be honest.

“It’s because I need to keep my scholarship.” He confessed and looked at you hesitantly, expecting some kind of exaggerated reaction. Maybe a joke, disdain or humiliation, but he was surprised by your bright face.

“A scholarship?! Wow, that’s impressive!” You were surprised and your face showed it “I had no idea you were a scholarship holder, that’s amazing! Only the best students get a scholarship in our course.”

Heeseung was stunned by your reaction. Maybe he had misjudged you for expecting the worst, but your relationship wasn't the best, so he didn't know what to expect.

"I mean, it's not that impressive. I just worked my ass off to get this scholarship, so yeah... I need to keep it.” Heeseung scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He didn’t know how to react to being praised, especially a compliment coming from you. His rival.

For Heeseung, the feeling of receiving recognition from someone who doesn't like him very much is more real and impactful than anyone else. Especially because you have all the weapons to criticize him, so receiving a praise from you hits different.

“It’s just the truth.” You moved a little closer to Heeseung, adjusting your skirt, making him glance at your smooth thighs “You know, I just realized something.”

Heeseung’s eyes rose and met yours again “What?”

“I think this is the first time we’ve talked about something that doesn’t have to do with our project.” You laughed and he noticed the gloss you were wearing. Your lips were shining in a mesmerizing way.

“You’re right…” He smiled “I mean, you haven’t cursed at me yet, so I say it’s an improvement.”

“Huh?” You dramatically let out a breath of air and pointed at him. “Heeseung, drop the act. You’re the one who always provokes me and starts bickering.”

Without letting go of eye contact, he brought his face closer to yours and you suddenly felt butterflies in your stomach “You’re not innocent either, you’re always teasing me.” He whispered, making you snort and look away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Heeseung laughed and you noticed how warm the sound of his laugh was “Yeah, let’s pretend you don’t know.”

You were surprised. He seemed different that night, as if he wasn't the Heeseung you knew. The rival you felt so much despise for.

Beneath that serene air he looked like just a normal college boy. And you liked that — but you wouldn’t admit it to him.

“I need a drink.” You suddenly commented and he looked at you “Me too.” Heeseung got up from the bench and stood in front of you “Let’s go inside, the party isn’t over yet.”

“I know and Gaeul must be worried about me.” You stood up sighing thinking about how you’ll have to find your best friend in the middle of the crowd.

“Ladies first.” Heeseung opened the kitchen door and made room for you to go in first.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and walked through the door with your arms crossed “Who would have thought… Lee Heeseung is such a gentleman.”

Heeseung smiled and whispered as you stood beside him “There are still many things about me that you don’t know.”

Heeseung's deep voice was like sweet poison that seemed to penetrate your skin with ease. You swallowed hard, feeling your body heat up slightly, and just walked in without saying anything.

Normally you hated losing any kind of argument with Heeseung, but tonight you would let it slide.

As the night unfolded and you entered the venue together again, Gaeul watched the interaction from afar with a satisfied smile on her face.

Heeseung and you together? Without fighting? You guys would definitely talk about it later.

☆

“Okay girl, spill.” Gaeul leaned against the doorway of your room as you changed the sheets on your bed “What the hell happened between you and Heeseung?”

“What do you mean?” You pretended not to understand her insinuation as you finished fluffing the pillows so you could lie down.

“You know what I'm talking about.” Gaeul came in and sat on your bed, looking at you with that look she only did when she wanted to tease you “I saw you and Heeseung interacting at the party.”

“And what about it?” Gaeul sighed at your stubbornness “I thanked him for helping me with a drunk idiot there who tried to hit on me.”

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” Your best friend looked at you worriedly and you sat down next to her “It was nothing big. When you went to the bathroom a guy was completely wasted and tried to hit on me, but Heeseung helped me.”

Gaeul put her hands over her mouth in shock and her eyebrows furrowed “Babeee, I didn’t know! I’m sorry I left you alone, I never imagined something like this would happen.” She touched your hand and you smiled.

“It’s okay Gaeul, I’m fine.” You squeezed your best friend’s hand, and she smiled sweetly.

“Sooo, you were saying Heeseung saved you?” She looked at you with a teasing face and you laughed “He helped me, like a good human being, okay?”

“Girl, there’s no point in hiding it. I know something has changed between you two.” She seemed 100% convinced and you just rolled your eyes “You’re very creative Gaeul.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t feel anything different after he saved you.” She approached you, watching you ponder her question for a moment.

In fact, since that event and the brief conversation in the backyard, you started to see Heeseung in a different light. Not to mention how much more attractive he seemed.

“Okay, maybe he’s not that bad.” You confessed and Gaeul’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened in shock.

“Oh. My. God. You totally like Lee Heeseung!!!!” Gaeul stood up excitedly and you made a face “And don’t try to deny it! Your eyes don’t lie! You’re falling for your rival!”

You chuckled and shook your head “Gaeul, I don’t like him, I just think he’s improved as a person… that’s all.”

Before leaving your room, she turned and looked at you with affection and a sweet smile on her lips “Okay, you can keep denying it. But just know that when you are ready to admit your feelings, I’ll be here for you.”

You sighed knowing that Gaeul wouldn't change her mind about this.

But you couldn't help but feel that strange feeling deep in your chest when you remembered how he had held your waist tightly and protected you. The way his eyebrows were furrowed showing the anger he was feeling against that idiot on your behalf. How protective he was at that moment…

His strong hands, along with the bright smile he gave you and how his dark hair seemed to fall perfectly over his forehead.

Okay, you can admit that Lee Heeseung is attractive, but that doesn't mean you like him.

Right?

Heeseung was walking down the halls while Jay was talking about some random basketball topic when he saw your beautiful figure from afar grabbing his attention. You were stunning, as always, but you looked different.

You were smiling as you watched something interesting a boy was showing you on his phone. He recognized the boy as Jungwon, the president of one of the clubs you were a part of. Heeseung couldn't help but feel awkward about the scene. You looked so comfortable and relaxed as you talked to the boy who was undeniably handsome and put together.

A wave of sour feelings flooded Heeseung's chest. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, trying not to make it too obvious how much he was staring at you. Heeseung, who had always had this chill aura, felt insanely bothered when he saw how excited the boy seemed while he was making you smile so easily.

It was nothing special. Even he could make you smile if he wanted to, there was nothing special about this guy.

“Hey man, are you listening?” Jay asked and Heeseung looked away trying to ignore the dissatisfaction bubbling inside him “Sorry, can you repeat?” He ran his hand through his hair and Jay sighed “Dude, if you’re going to be jealous of her, please be more discreet, you look like a creepy staring at her like that.” Heeseung dumbfounded stared at his friend “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m certainly not jealous.”

“Give me a break man, you were practically staring at the girl.” Jay gave a smirk and Heeseung kept walking trying to resist the urge to look back and see your smile one last time “I'm fine. Let's go.” Jay shook his head and continued walking alongside Heeseung who remained silent for the rest of the way.

He wasn't jealous, was he?

☆

Civil Law was fun until you had to do a detailed essay and slides on dispossession in your bedroom on a Wednesday night. It was already past 11pm and you were still halfway through the paper. Your presentation was due next week, and you were still going over the details of the requirements for reinstatement of possession.

Being a perfectionist was a characteristic of yours that hindered you more than it helped you most of the time. You wanted your work to be perfect and meticulous to the point of not leaving any room for questions. The problem was that this cost you precious nights that you could have been having fun and enjoying life like a young university student.

You were stretching your arms when you were surprised by the sound of your phone ringing on the table. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Heeseung's name on the screen. What was he doing? He had never called you before.

'Is this an emergency?' You instantly thought and worriedly answered the phone.

“Hello? Heeseung?” The hesitation in your voice was clear “Hm—” Heeseung’s deep voice and breathing suddenly startled you “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry for calling you so late.”

“It’s okay. Did something happen?” Your heart was suddenly racing, and you couldn’t explain why. His laughter on the other end warmed your ear “No silly, I wanted to talk about our project.” The way his voice sounded deeper over the phone made you swallow hard and cross your legs instinctively.

This was pathetic. How could you feel nervous about a phone conversation? And worst of all — with Heeseung?

“Oh, right.” You gave an awkward chuckle “What is it?” It was like you could feel his smile through his breathing on the phone call.

“I was just thinking… maybe it would be interesting to talk about criminal liability for crimes committed during the Second World War with the creation of the Nuremberg Tribunal.” Heeseung said in a calm and soft voice. As if he was flirting, but you knew that couldn’t be possible. He had no reason to flirt with you “Ah, you mean the International Military Tribunal?”

“Exactly.” Was his voice always this sexy? “I think it would be a good topic, and I know you like the criminal side of things, so it could be interesting for us to address this.” Your stomach turned as you realized that Heeseung had paid attention to what you had said weeks ago and thought of this idea based on your personal taste.

“I think that’s a great idea!” You gave him an excited smile as if he could see it “I think it would be wonderful to include this part.”

“Yeah.” He laughed in a way that made you feel like a little girl interacting with her crush “I’m glad you liked it, we can work on that at our next meeting.”

God, you were hating yourself mentally. How could you let yourself be affected and have impure thoughts while Heeseung was talking about the Nuremberg Tribunal?

“Sure!” Was all you could manage to say before he interrupted you “Speaking of which, are you free in the afternoon on Friday? We can start right away.”

“Wait, I’ll check my schedule.” He laughed at your answer and said playfully “Of course you have a schedule.” You usually can’t stand it when Heeseung answers you sarcastically, but this time it was different. It was like he was teasing you, but not with the intention of irritating you, but just joking with you. “I’m an organized person, of course I’ll schedule my appointments in advance.”

“Alright, Miss Organized. Are you free?” You could hardly believe that you were having a friendly conversation with Heeseung over the phone “Yes, we can schedule it at our usual time.”

“Great, it's a date then.” The way he said it was normal, you know that, but the butterflies that invaded your stomach made you feel like a loser. He wasn't asking you out on a date, it was just the work meeting you always had, but you couldn't stay calm like before.

“Uh– Heeseung can I ask you something?” You gathered the courage to continue the conversation “Sure. What is it?” He seemed curious and you bit your lower lip trying to get the courage to ask what was eating you up inside “Why did you call me? You could have texted me…”

Your anxiety reached its peak when he was silent for about 5 seconds and all you could hear was his breathing “I guess I just wanted to talk to you directly about the subject.” He broke the silence and you let out an ironic chuckle “Woah?! I never thought I would hear those words from Lee Heeseung.” Unbeknownst to you on the other end of the line Heeseung had slightly pink cheeks while he had his hand over his eyes “Seriously, this topic is quite detailed so I wanted to get my point across as easily as possible, and over text it would be a hassle.”

“And why didn’t you Facetimed me?” You argued as you jumped onto your fluffy bed “I can’t.” He replied seriously and you hugged your pillow “Why not?”

Heeseung stopped for a second and laughed through his nose, which you could hear through the phone “Because I’m already in bed and I’m shirtless.” You froze, feeling your cheeks heat up at what he said and blamed yourself for imagining him shirtless calling you in the middle of the night “So… it would be a little complicated for me to have to get up, put on a shirt and turn on the lights just to say that.”

“I see… that makes sense.” You swallowed, feeling like an idiot for not knowing how to react with this bombastic information. Shirtless Lee Heeseung calling you at night is something you never expected to happen to you.

'I hope he doesn't think I'm weird.'

“And you? What are you doing up so late?” He asked and you laughed seeing how you needed to turn off your laptop and organize your materials “I was doing my civil law essay.”

“Yeah, this essay is really tiring. It took me a long time to research my topic, but you’ll finish it soon.” He said with that usual confidence with absolute certainty that you would kill the subject “Well, unfortunately I had the misfortune of getting the subject of dispossession, so it's more complicated than it seems.”

“Damn, dispossession is full of details.” He sighed, feeling his eyes grow heavy “My topic is about inheritance law. Heirs and shit like that.” You laughed, noticing how his voice was getting slightly choked with sleep “Are you sleepy?”

“Hmhum.” He nodded even though he knew you wouldn’t see it “I’m tired, I had a lot of work today.” Your legs were swinging in the air as you listened to Heeseung “Well then, I guess it’s time for you to sleep.”

He laughed and agreed “Yeah, you're right. Good night, Y/N.” His sleepy voice tickled your ear and you smirked “Good night, Heeseung.”

With one click he hung up the call and you buried your face in the pillow, giving a liberating scream after the unexpected call.

'Damn it, Lee Heeseung, what did you do to me?'

☆

Despite your good mood, this civil law essay was taking up a lot of your free time and it was tiring you out. You had been reviewing your paper and making slides for your presentation for 3 hours straight.

The civil law professor was known to be strict and detail-oriented, so you wanted everything to be perfect. As you were finishing your slides to clear your mind, your phone vibrated and you felt your body freeze when you saw that Heeseung had sent you a message.

[Lee Heeseung] — Hey

[Lee Heeseung] — Are you busy?

16:47 pm

Your heart jumped into your throat and with slightly trembling hands you picked up your phone and quickly thought about what to say.

[You] — Kinda.

[You] — Finishing the slides for my Civil Law presentation.

16:48 pm

While you were trying to calm down, Heeseung was already answering you at the speed of light.

[Lee Heeseung] — Oh.

[Lee Heeseung] — Want some help?

16:48 pm

The smile that appeared on your face was automatic. How could such a simple message affect you so much?

[You] — Really?

[You] — I mean, it would be nice if it doesn't bother you though

16:49 pm

[Lee Heeseung] — Yeah, it doesn't bother me.

[Lee Heeseung] — Where are you now?

16:49 pm

You took a deep breath, feeling your stomach churn at the excited feelings that were rising from the tone of his messages.

[You] — I'm at the library rn

16:49 pm

[Lee Heeseung] — Alright

[Lee Heeseung] — I'll be there in a few

16:50 pm

[You] — Okay

16:50 pm

Your hands went straight to the front camera of your phone to see how you looked. You started to despair because you hadn't done a more elaborate makeup that afternoon, but you didn't expect to see Heeseung.

Luckily, you had some blush and a reddish gloss in your bag. You touched up your makeup and checked your teeth for any signs of something between them but smiled in relief when you saw that they were perfect.

You adjusted your posture, your blouse, and ran your hand through the strands of your hair to comb them carefully. After feeling that you were minimally tidy, you tried to focus on your slides before Heeseung arrived.

Within 10 minutes Heeseung was already walking past the library door looking for you. When he found you, your eyes met in a second and he smiled. Your anxiety increased considerably as you watched Heeseung walk towards you. With each step he took, you were afraid that your face would show how anxious you were.

It was insane how Lee Heeseung could look so hot wearing a simple black shirt and dark jeans.

“Hey.” He pulled out the chair next to you and sat down while keeping his gaze on yours “It's been a while.”

“Yeah…” You let out the air you were holding “I've been busy with this essay and presentation.”

“I see.” he smiled and leaned forward "What do you need? I'm here to help you."

You hated yourself for not being able to look at Heeseung for so long, so you looked away to your laptop screen.

“I just need to review a few points.” You showed the summary of what you were going to present and the main points “Everything is ready, so I’m editing the slides now because I feel like I need to improve the design of them.”

Heeseung had spent so long without hearing your voice that he was almost grateful to hear you talk so much, even if it was about a stupid presentation.

“If you want, I can show you what I do on my slides.” He moved his chair closer to yours and looked at you. “Okay.” You nodded and made him comfortable so he could do whatever he wanted.

Heeseung placed his left arm behind your chair and brought his face closer to yours coincidentally as he pulled his laptop closer to him.

You felt your heart race when you smelled Heeseung's perfume. That mixed scent of chamomile shampoo married perfectly with his woody scent. It was a soft, punctual and addictive blend. A perfect masculine scent that caught your attention.

“Do you still use PowerPoint?” He mockingly smiled and you raised an eyebrow at him “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, but I personally think it’s hard to work with.” he opened a website in his browser “Try this site, it has easy designs for quick slides.”

“Okay.” You were trying to focus on what he was saying, but his face was distracting you.

His forehead was more exposed than before. His hair was parted in the middle so you could see how perfectly defined his eyebrows were.

How had you not noticed before how handsome he was?

“Look… you can put these dots in a different font so that they are more readable and don’t clutter the view of the slide.” he leaned in closer and spoke close to your ear, making you swallow hard “See?”

“Yes.” You replied, trying to ignore how much Heeseung’s velvety voice tickled your ear.

“Your slides are excellent, they just need some polishing.” Heeseung’s voice was gentle and he seemed focused on the task at hand. A warm feeling filled your heart at the brief compliment he gave you.

“I just want to get this over with.” You sighed “I’m tired and I want to sleep.” Heeseung chuckled and looked at you “You’ll be fine.” Your gaze met his and his eyes gently fixed on your mouth.

Crazy thoughts ran through his mind as he roamed his gaze over your mouth and eyes.

“Thank you for helping me.” You whispered and Heeseung smirked “Of course. I'm your partner after all.”

He looked away from your laptop screen, trying to control himself. You both were in a public space, but he was there to help you, so he would control himself for now.

“What else do you need?” He asked looking at the rest of his slides “I'm all yours today.”

You bit your lips trying not to smile too much at the way he said it.

“We can move forward with our project after I finish my slides.” You suggested and he glanced at you with an amused face “If you have time, of course.”

“Sure.” he smiled and scratched the back of his neck “I have all the time in the world.”

You smiled and decided that it would be perfect to work in something with Heeseung on that peaceful afternoon.

And suddenly you realized that Heeseung's presence had become comfortable to you.

☆

The day was cloudy, with an atmosphere that made you feel lazy and do not want to study at all. However, contrary to the statistics, you were dressed up with your hair brushed, a light pink button-up blouse, a gray ruffled skirt and lots of perfume.

You knew you were dressing up more than usual for a simple work date with Heeseung, but you couldn't help it.

It was as if your body moved on its own when it came to seeing Heeseung.

Without you realizing it, your personal opinion of him gradually changed. Lee Heeseung was extremely complex. At first, he seemed like a jerk who did everything he could to irritate you, but suddenly he showed a different side with his actions. He could actually be an interesting and nice guy when he talked to you like a normal human being and didn't argue for no reason.

He was smart too. Not that you didn't know that before, but the way he was punctual, organized and focused on what he wanted was your type. You couldn't stand people who didn't keep their commitments, and surprisingly Heeseung never missed a meeting you made — to the point of him going to one of your meetings even when he was sick.

It was impossible to ignore the signs that yes, Lee Heeseung could be a nice guy, but that you couldn't see it because you couldn't stand each other for some inexplicable reason.

However, you knew it wasn’t totally your fault for your previously bad relationship. You started to feel a bit resentful ever since he started picking on you. Your theory was that maybe he felt threatened by your academic performance, or maybe there was something more to it. After all, he was now keen to work well with you and didn't care if you also got top marks.

Maybe you misjudged him, or you spent too much time not liking each other for such superficial reasons that you didn't give yourself a chance to get to know each other better.

In any case, you had already come to the conclusion that despite your differences, you had finally managed to understand each other — to the point where you began to feel an undeniable and overwhelming attraction to him.

As you looked at your reflection in the mirror you felt slightly embarrassed. Deep down, it was embarrassing to admit that you were feeling so shaken by Heeseung, the guy you swore you couldn't stand, but so many things had happened that you couldn't deny your forbidden feelings.

And you had already decided that this would stay in your mind and that was fine. It was okay to feel a slight attraction to a man, even if that man was Lee Heeseung.

The difficult part was not showing what you felt when he seemed to be staring at you so deeply whenever you were together. Or when he smiled in a way that made your legs feel weak.

You grabbed your things and left the apartment, trying to distract your mind from those deep thoughts. Today would be a good day, especially since your work was progressing nicely and it was one less thing to worry about.

On your way to the library you decided to buy some juice from a vending machine and came across Heeseung in front of the machine. Suddenly you felt a strange chill in your stomach and tried to give a soft smile to him — one that didn't look forced.

Heeseung turned around and saw you approaching. He looked up and down before giving a smirk that warmed your body. “Hey, came to buy a drink too?” Heeseung kept looking at you intently as he grabbed his soda.

“Yeah, I think we had the same idea.” You awkwardly laughed as he pulled away slightly, grabbing a juice as well “You can't kick your soda addiction, huh?”

“You know caffeine is a must before studying.” He laughingly replied as he opened the can and handed you the orange juice you liked the most “For you.”

Automatically your eyes opened in surprise and you felt your heart warm at Heeseung's sudden action. “What?! Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I can buy some juice for my project partner.” You took the juice feeling your cheeks warm by his action “Thank you…” you replied giving a small smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung.

“So, are you done with your civil law essay?” he asked, leading the way to the library. His company was no longer strange, and you had to admit that you were really enjoying talking and spending time with him.

“Yeah, but I struggled to finish it all. I was tired of reading about property invasion.” Heeseung laughed and took a sip of his soda “I know how it is. I’ve read so many cases about wills that I don’t want to hear about it any time soon.”

As Heeseung told you about an interesting story he had seen on social media, you analyzed his profile. The way he smiled without realizing it when he told you something he was interested in made you lose focus on the subject.

The way his lips moved was as if they were inviting you. They looked silky, soft and shiny. You barely realized you were staring when he turned slightly to look at you and smiled, waiting for you to answer what he asked. “Sorry, what did you say?” he sighed and smiled ironically “You weren’t listening to me, were you?” You felt your face burn with embarrassment “Sorry, I got distracted for a moment.”

“Damn, what’s so important that made you distracted like that?” He teased you and you gave him an awkward smile.

'Your lips'

“Nothing much, just worried about some things.” Heeseung narrowed his eyes, analyzing you. He knew it was nothing like that, but he wasn’t going to pressure you to talk.

“Okay…” He took one last sip of his soda before throwing it in the trash. From afar, the library door was wide open, revealing that on that afternoon, the flow of students was way bigger than on other days.

When you finally entered the library and found the place completely packed, you felt defeated. There were practically no free tables for you to work at.

“What the hell? Why is the library so crowded?” You whispered and Heeseung scratched the back of his neck “I have no idea, maybe it’s because of upcoming exams?”

You tried to think about something, but nothing came to mind. “Well, I think it’s going to be impossible for us to do our work here.” You said seeing how there was no free space and Heeseung sighed trying to think of a solution.

“What are we going to do now?” You asked, turning to Heeseung, waiting for some suggestion.

Suddenly an idea popped into Heeseung's mind, but it was a dangerous idea and he didn't know if you would accept it.

You bit your lower lip, feeling anxiety hit you with the thoughts that were coming into your mind as you saw how deeply he seemed to be thinking. “I have an idea.” You noticed his cautious tone, as if he wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

“What is it?” He turned to face you fully and you noticed how tall he was. Your insides were churning as he tightened his grip on the strap of his black backpack. There were plenty of places near college that you could go to study, but it might be more difficult and complicated.

“We can go to a nearby cafe, or somewhere else that’s quiet, like my room.” You felt the air catch in your throat and he pursed his lips without taking his eyes off your figure “You can choose whatever’s most comfortable for you.”

You bit your lower lip quickly thinking about his suggestion “But we can go somewhere else if you want.” He reinforced the other option, feeling embarrassed by the sudden suggestion he made.

“No, it’s fine.” You replied almost instantly as you ran your hand through your hair “If your room is quiet and has enough space, then it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want to pressure you into doing anything you didn’t want to do, so he decided to ask again to confirm “Yeah… the most important thing right now is going to a quiet place to work.”

“Alright, I’ll show you the way.”

You and Heeseung always spent time together, so being alone in his room wouldn't be a big deal.

That's what you were trying to convince yourselves.

☆

There is nothing as unexpected as feelings. This is a fact that Heeseung knows. He understands that human beings are endowed with emotions, thoughts and decisions. Yes, human beings are complex by nature and it is possible for them to evolve and change their thoughts and beliefs over time.

But even knowing all this, he couldn't understand why you were messing with him so much.

He had already rationally decided that he would not get too involved with you. You would do this project and each of you would go on with your lives as normal. However, lately Heeseung realized that his rationality wasn't connected to the things he felt whenever he saw you.

Suddenly he started to feel strange butterflies in his stomach when you smiled at him. The way you spoke was no longer so annoying and he started to find some of your jokes funny.

And the most worrying part was that he no longer felt stressed at the thought of working with you. A part of him was already used to your presence and not only that — he felt excited at the idea of seeing you.

You who didn't used to talk much before, now are sending articles, posts and messages about work and things related to law. Including funny and random things. Someone from outside would say that you seem like friends. Talking, laughing and being seen walking down the hallway together when you meet from time to time.

He knew he no longer felt the same anger as before, but he didn't understand what kind of relationship you had. You weren't really friends, but there was clearly an inexplicable chemistry between you, a kind of invisible tension that was created whenever your eyes met for a few seconds.

It was obvious that you had changed with him. In Heeseung's old vision, you were rude, inconvenient, and completely annoying.

Now you're nice, kind, and helpful whenever he asks you anything. But what scares Heeseung the most is the undeniable attraction he's feeling for you. He's always considered himself a man of values and respect, but his eyes can't help but wander to the curve of your neck when your hair is loosely tied back.

It was impossible not to notice your torso being hugged perfectly by your pink long-sleeved blouse, the smell of your sweet perfume and your shiny mouth; and ever since the party he couldn't stop thinking about your waist and how it felt between his fingers.

It was becoming mental torture to see your mouth almost every day and think about how soft it must be but not being able to do anything about it. It was scary how he seemed to not think straight when it came to you, but what was even scarier was that you agreed to go study in his room.

Even though he was the one who had suggested studying in his room, the fact that you accepted was surprisingly exciting. Yes, you would study as usual, but this time you would be at his desk and in his environment. It was inevitable not to feel nervous about the situation.

He tried to talk about anything random on the way and you even laughed a few times, but both of you were clearly tense. Maybe you just needed to start studying and this would pass.

Heeseung stopped at the door of his dorm, opening it slightly, feeling aware of your presence there. He entered first and took off his shoes, making room for you to pass. “Come in.”

You smiled and left your shoes at the door, feeling slightly shy as you entered his place “Thank you.”

The place was simple, tidy, and decorated differently than you’d expect. Even though he has an eccentric personality, there wasn’t much decor. Heeseung and his roommate were surprisingly minimalists, except for a few pizza boxes on the kitchen counter that Heeseung picked up to throw in the trash. “Don’t mind the mess, Jake and I had pizza yesterday and we passed out after we ate it.”

You chuckled looking at your surroundings “It’s okay, everyone has those days.”

He gave you a side smile, guiding you to the door of his room. Surprisingly, the dorm was bigger than you expected, seeing as he still managed to have a room just for himself.

“This is my room.” He walked into his room, making space for you to observe everything while he grabbed another chair so you could sit at his table.

“It’s really cool.” You felt like you were entering a forbidden and very exclusive place. You never imagined that you would get the chance to see Lee Heeseung’s room. The decor was peculiar, with a framed basketball player’s jersey on the wall and minimalist posters about sports and music.

Interestingly, he liked rock music. You noticed after seeing that he had a few music CDs together on the table, giving it a sophisticated and personal air. You smiled when you saw that there was a photo of him as a child with his parents on the nightstand next to his bed.

But surprisingly, what shocked you the most was seeing the amount of books he had in the place. Yes, Lee Heeseung really liked reading, and especially doctrines of law from the library.

Obviously, he worked hard to be one of the best on the course along with you, but seeing this reality up close was even more impressive.

His bed was tidy, but the books scattered on top of it gave the final touch to what truly meant to be in Heeseung's environment.

“You have a lot of books.” You commented when you saw Heeseung placing the other chair next to his at the table and he mischievously smiled “Of course I do. I want to be an attorney, so I need to read a lot.”

“Attorney?” You raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s cool if you want to follow that path… You’d probably enjoy talking to my dad.” You spoke softly at the last part, but Heeseung heard it anyway.

He noticed that the way you spoke insinuated that you didn't want to follow that path and curiously, as if your father was a distant figure for you.

“Don’t you want to be an attorney?” Heeseung asked you, seeing you going towards his desk and sitting down with a serious expression. “To be honest, I don't know… it’s not my dream.”

He sat down next to you and came closer, trying to make you comfortable. “Do you have an idea of what you want to do?”

“Maybe a prosecutor?” You confessed and smiled shyly. It was the first time you had talked about this dream with anyone other than Gaeul. “It’s still a distant idea, I guess I’ll become an attorney first. That’s what everyone expects of me anyway.”

“Everyone?” He asked gently. “It’s complicated.” You sighed and he realized it was still a sensitive subject that you might not want to explain, and he wasn’t going to pressure you into doing so. He also had things to deal with that he didn’t open up about easily.

“Well, regardless of what you choose, I know you’ll do well.” He commented as he placed his notebooks and laptop on the table. “You’re the only one who’s managed to beat me sometimes, and I know very well that not just anyone can defeat me easily.”

You gave Heeseung a smile, realizing he was trying to cheer you up in his own way. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He smiled and watched you placing your materials on the table, noticing the post-it notes with legal concepts on the wall in front of the table.

“Your room is… interesting.” You commented as you analyzed all the mnemonics and tips he had written on a post-it that was almost falling on the table. “Are you trying to start a fight?” Heeseung looked at you suspiciously and you laughed.

“No, I just think this room suits you.” You grinned “It’s cute.”

“Are you calling me cute?” Heeseung smirked, bringing his face closer to yours. “I’m talking about the room.” You replied, swallowing hard, opening your laptop.

“Well, that's a pity then.” You felt your cheeks burn and your body fizz at the suggestive tone of his comment.

Maybe you were seeing things, but it looked a lot like Lee Heeseung was flirting with you right now.

“So, before we start,” He continued to look at you while you tried to pretend that you weren’t feeling weak with his presence so close “I’m going to the kitchen to drink some water. Do you want something to drink?” He asked and you shook your head “No, I’ll drink the juice you gave me later.”

He gave a little smile of pride seeing that you actually accepted the juice he bought for you.

“Alright then, I’ll be right back.” Heeseung nodded and stood up as you tried to calm down.

'It's okay, he was just teasing me. I just need to calm down and focus on my studies.' You thought as you tried to convince yourself that the tension in the air was just some kind of illusion and not the harsh reality.

☆

Heeseung was in the kitchen getting a glass of water trying to understand the situation he was in. You were there, in his room, with your beauty shining like the morning breeze.

It felt like a dream. At first he didn't even know how to explain why he suggested it, but his intrusive thoughts were faster, shockingly you had accepted. In a way, you were there to study like you always do in the library, but this time he was feeling strange.

He wanted something to happen and this wasn’t good.

Because it meant that Heeseung had finally accepted his feelings of attraction towards you and was considering doing something about it.

He took a deep breath and decided to control himself for the sake of your project. However, as much as he tried to focus on his studies, the moment he walked past his bedroom door and saw you sitting cross-legged, your hair loose showing your neck, and the way you were biting the tip of your pen while focused on your laptop screen, all his common sense went straight out the window.

“So, can we start?” Heeseung asked, swallowing hard and scratching the back of his neck, feeling nervous. “Sure, where do you want to start?” You asked, looking at him with the sexiest eyes he swore he had ever seen in his life. “We can read the article you suggested.”

“Alright.” He smiled seeing how excited you seemed about the project. “By the way, I saw your CDs and posters.” You changed the subject as he opened the file on his computer “You’re quite… eclectic.” He chuckled and turned to you “Why? Did you think I only listened to one type of music?”

You shook your head and gave him a side smile. “I thought you were more into the classics.”

“I like a little bit of everything, you know? I can appreciate different types of art.” He noticed the way your skirt seemed to have ridden up the moment you adjusted yourself in your chair.

“I’m surprised.” He looked away, trying to control his thoughts. But it was hard when you looked like a goddess next to him. “Every day I discover something new about you.”

“Well, I told you that there are a lot of things about me that you don’t know.” He replied as he locked gazes with you. Heeseung definitely had a unique charm.

“Fair enough.” You replied and he gave you that smile that made your legs lose strength. “I think I made too many assumptions about you.” You confessed, leaning against the table and he brought his face closer to yours “Yeah? Maybe you should get to know me better then.”

You felt your body catch fire at the way he whispered an octave lower than normal and smirked “Yeah, maybe I should.”

Heeseung felt his face and ears heat up at the way you were looking at him.

He knew something had changed between you and the tension was so intense you could cut it with a knife.

His eyes dropped to your exposed neck. Your sweet scent was intoxicating the air and the necklace you were wearing was shinier than usual. It adorned your collarbone magnificently.

Did you have to look this good for a measly study date?

He didn't know if he could cross that invisible line between you, so he slowly approached you, lowering his gaze to your mouth. Since he was sitting on your left side, his right hand went up to your face and tucked a single strand of your hair behind your ear.

You felt a shiver run through your body as his fingertips lightly touched your ear.

His face moved closer to yours agonizingly slowly, and you felt his sweet minty breath fan your face.

Heeseung instinctively wet his lower lip with his tongue and you felt your breath catch as he lowered his right hand to the corner of your neck, touching you gently.

Your eyes locked into Heeseung's intense, dark eyes, and you felt your body fizz at the way he was staring at you. It was intense, serious, deep, as if he wanted to convey a message that only you would understand. You didn't need to say anything. The way you looked at each other was the answer to the unspoken question that floated implicitly in the air.

The desire you both feel is mutual.

He moved closer and pulled your neck towards him, pressing the spot with his long fingers. You closed your eyes when you felt his mouth brush against yours as if he was testing your reactions.

Heeseung kissed you, gently pressing his lips against yours, sending a dose of pleasure through your body. He gave you a long peck and quickly pulled away to make sure that this was really happening.

He was kissing you. This is real.

He smiled over your lips and kissed you again, with more intensity, making you pull him by the collar. Heeseung's left hand landed on your left thigh, squeezing the skin there and you felt your stomach churn.

Heeseung bit your lower lip and you moaned, making him feel a wave of pride invade his body. Your arms wrapped around his neck, while your hands went straight to his soft hair.

All you wanted to feel was the soft strands of his gorgeous hair between your fingers and you finally knew what that felt like. Heeseung groaned into your mouth as you pulled his hair and scratched the back of his neck with your nails.

Heeseung felt like he had ascended to heaven as he felt your soft lips moving over his. You were like water on a dry day that he couldn't get enough of.

Not even his deepest thoughts could recreate the exultant feeling he felt when he finally kissed you. He was thirsty and wanted more. As much as he tried to hold it in, his deep desire was stronger and he happily gave in to its sweet taste.

You separated for a brief second to catch your breath and he licked your lower lip making you open your mouth slightly sighing as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

The kiss that started soft was now intense, passionate and more desperate. You ran your hands down Heeseung's neck until they stopped on his chest. Heeseung intertwined his right hand in your hair while his left rested on your lower back.

Heeseung kissed you intensely, as if he couldn't stop. You lost track of time as you let yourself be numbed by the feeling of Heeseung's tongue exploring your mouth.

He sucked on your bottom lip before attacking your neck with longing open-mouthed kisses. “You're so beautiful.” He whispered against the skin of your neck as he brushed it with his lips making you press your thighs together and sigh in pleasure “So fucking beautiful.”

You held onto Heeseung’s hair and his left shoulder as he got closer “Heeseung.” You whispered but were interrupted by his mouth kissing the column of your neck with desire.

“You drive me crazy.” He whispered in your ear making you roll your eyes back and moan embarrassingly. Heeseung felt his pants tighten at the reactions and sounds you made.

His left hand went to the buttons of your pink blouse with slight desperation. He was panting and you were spaced out with so many things happening at the same time.

You knew you wanted Heeseung, but you didn't know it would be this intense.

“Fuck” He trailed kisses from your throat to your collarbone, allowing the scent of your perfume to sweetly intoxicate his senses “It’s hard to contain myself when you’re like this.” He whispered over your mouth, kissing you again.

You couldn't form a coherent sentence. Your heart was racing, your breathing was short, and even though you were sitting down, you felt all the strength in your legs evaporate.

His hands went to your thighs, smoothing them up under your skirt. You reached out to take off the denim jacket he was wearing and he smirked over your mouth.

"So eager, huh?” he teased you and you sighed, frowning “Look who's talking.” You whispered wryly trying not to be embarrassed at how breathless and needy you sounded.

“Thought you liked it when I teased you, babe.” Heeseung’s sensual tone as he took off his coat made you lose the last of your breath. His shoulders looked even bigger up close.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You whispered and pulled Heeseung by the collar of his shirt, making him give you several kisses and smile on your lips “So bossy…”

The way Heeseung's mouth seemed to fit perfectly into yours was impressive.

Heeseung's hands went under your shirt, squeezing the bare skin of your waist, giving you goosebumps and making you moan into Heeseung's mouth.

He was relentless. Heeseung's mouth devoured you with fervor and desperation, leaving you breathless. You held onto the hem of Heeseung's shirt as he pulled away slightly, turning his head for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, feeling your entire body tremble.

“Wait.” Heeseung reluctantly moved away a little more, hearing noises from outside “Do you hear that?” He turned to the door and you breathlessly tried to focus on what he was saying.

Until you noticed – the sound of keys moving near the principal door latch. You adjusted your skirt down and buttoned the first few buttons of your blouse that Heeseung had unbuttoned.

Suddenly you were paralyzed and stared at each other when you heard the key opening the main door in the room.

“Man, I'm dead, I want to sleep the rest of the afternoon.” Jake spoke loudly and you and Heeseung quickly separated from each other as he tried to fix his hair and appear as natural as possible.

You adjusted your seats as if you were studying your computer screen intently.

“Heeseung, are you there?” Jake knocked on his friend’s bedroom door and opened it at once “I need to tell you what happened to me at the coffee shop—” Jake’s eyes widened and he froze when he saw that you were in Heeseung’s room.

Heeseung glared at him with a menacing look. That look that implicitly said 'get the hell out of here'.

“I’m kind of busy right now, Jake.” He said through gritted teeth and his friend gave an awkward smile and scratched his head “Oh sorry to disturb you guys. I didn’t know you were studying … but it’s good to see you y/n.” He greeted you and you nodded politely “Hi.” Your voice came out soft and thin with fright.

“Well then, we’ll talk later.” Jake said to Heeseung with a teasing look making Heeseung want to kill him at that moment.

He closed the door to Heeseung's room and you were left in absolute, awkward silence.

Your heart was racing and your breath was still coming in short gasps. What the hell had happened?

“Sorry, I forgot Jake could come back earlier today.” Heeseung sighed as he ran his hand over his face, trying not to feel embarrassed by the awkward situation you both found yourselves in.

“It’s okay.” You gave a small laugh through your nose “We can try studying now… if you want.” Heeseung looked at you and mischievously smiled “Honestly, I don’t know if I’m in the mood to study right now.” He confessed looking into your eyes, hitting you like an electrifying lightning bolt.

You nodded and smiled, feeling your insides stir at Heeseung’s gentle tone “Yeah, me too.”

So, in silent agreement, you decided to organize the table and put away the materials. Even though the tension was still there, Jake cut the mood, so all that was left was the weird tension and the end of this unsuccessful study session.

After you packed your things, Heeseung walked you to the door and looked at you apologetically “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back?”

“No, it’s okay.” You smiled and felt embarrassed remembering what happened moments before trying to calm your heart.

“Okay.” He leaned against the side of the door, crossing his arms and smiling at you “We’ll schedule the next meeting later.” He whispered as he tried to contain a smile with his teeth biting his own lip.

You nodded and slowly turned around “Bye, Heeseung.” He gave you that shy smile that only he knew how to do “Bye, y/n.”

After he closed the door and you walked out into the hallway, all you could think about was what had happened that afternoon.

You kissed. No, you had made out intensely and passionately, but the scariest thing is to think of what would have happened if Jake hadn't interrupted you.

And the worst part is that you wanted more.

Heeseung was still awake, staring at his ceiling as he remembered what had happened that afternoon.

After you left, Jake tried to talk to Heeseung but he went off to clear his head — which clearly didn't work out very well. Even though he tried to occupy himself and do other things he was still numb to the feeling of your mouth on his.

Heeseung couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, you appeared in his mind. He couldn't forget the feel of your soft skin under his fingers, your bright, pleading eyes, and how soft your mouth was.

He ran his hand over his face trying to control himself, but he couldn't help but feel hot when he remembered your kiss. He had taken the risk of kissing you, but he didn't expect your response to be as intense as his.

Heeseung couldn't pinpoint when everything changed, because 3 months ago he couldn't stand you, but now he couldn't wait to see you.

He picked up his phone and saw that it was almost 1 am and he couldn't get you out of his head. Your scent was tattooed on his mind and he knew he wanted to smell it again.

Heeseung wanted to see you, touch you, kiss you again.

But a doubt hovered over his mind: what about you? What did you want? Do you regret it? Or did you also like it and want more?

Heeseung knew there was no way to guess that now, but he would do whatever it took to find out.

☆

It's been 3 days since you and Heeseung were in complete silence.

After what had happened in his room, you were still in shock. But the fact that you and he didn't talk anymore was worrying and it irritated you.

You guys made out in his room and he couldn't send you at least a good morning text? Or anything else? How would you communicate and behave when you had to meet for your project after this?

Deep down, you didn’t know whether you regretted it or not. You don’t want to mess up your – finally – good relationship, but at the same time, you want to kiss him again. You don't know how this will impact the two of you, but you know you don't want to get ghosted by Heeseung or get weird by it.

Like a mature adult, you tried to occupy your mind with your civil law presentation, but the worst part was that nothing could get the vision of Heeseung out of your head. The words he whispered and how he kissed you like he’s been longing for it for a long time… it was too much.

The day of the presentation had already arrived, and even though you were confident in your knowledge, you were afraid to see Heeseung again.

You don't know how to behave or what to say when you see him. You could barely translate the things you were feeling at that moment when he intensively kissed you. In the end, all you knew was that even though you were irritated, you could barely see him without feeling your stomach twist and your body heat up.

On the other hand, for the first time in his life, Heeseung was excited to see your performance.

You were already at the front of the class with your slides turned on and waiting for the professor to give the go-ahead for you to start presenting.

Heeseung was sitting a little further forward so he wouldn't miss any details. His gaze met your and he gave a smile that made your insides melt.

It was different to feel that this time Heeseung's presence made you more nervous than usual.

When you started your presentation, everyone stopped and hung on every word.

Mainly Heeseung.

It was curious how you didn't look nervous while you clicked on the slides to explain your topic. Your confidence exudes how much you had prepared for the presentation, making him admire you even more. He eyed you attentively, not wanting to miss any of your moves. Your hands weren't shaking, and the way you presented yourself was so delicate and so fierce at the same time. He smirked watching how you pointed to the topics on the slide.

You really used his idea for your slides.

'Such pretty hands.' He thought about how it would feel them touching his face, his skin, him. The horde of forbidden thoughts filling his mind.

He swore he was really paying attention to what you were saying, but he got distracted so easily that even he couldn't explain why.

Suddenly he realized that he was thinking about things that definitely had nothing to do with possessory dispossession but had to do with what it must be like to see you on top of him while his hands roamed over your body.

His thoughts were interrupted when you finished your presentation perfectly making the sound of claps fill the room.

Once again you had outdone yourself in a presentation, but this time Heeseung wasn't analyzing the way you explained or trying to see if you would make mistakes in your diction. Now he could only think about how admirable your effort was.

Especially how he wanted you so bad.

However, when class ended, you had disappeared without giving him a chance to talk to you, leaving Heeseung even more anxious. What did he have to do to finally be able to talk to you again?

The ballroom was adorned with bright lights and chandeliers with sparkling stones that could blind you if you stare at them for too long. The buffet tables were extravagant (as always) and contained every type of food you could imagine. Seafood, pasta, and a variety of drinks. The exaggerated extravagance mixed with the forced, discreet laughter was a known sound that made your ears itch.

People were dressed in all the elegance that the event required, and everyone seemed polite and well-behaved. However, even from a distance you could capture several fake smiles, carefully placed on the faces of poor university students who were trying to survive in this environment by flattering more well-known and experienced attorneys in search of a possible internship or job at a renowned firm.

The P&J Foundation event was one of the only ones open to university students and law school graduates looking to meet future work partners or new opportunities in the job market.

And of course you would be there, “enjoying” the extravagant decorations, the lectures and the valuable advice from several experienced professionals — that’s the main reason why people go there anyway. But one of the biggest reasons was that your father was one of the sponsors, so missing out was not an option.

Even though it was a beneficial event for several college students, you felt slightly uncomfortable due to the judging looks people gave you when they saw you standing there drinking whatever was on the table without talking to anyone.

You were silent, observing the environment. Since you arrived, you had only greeted a few attorneys who approached to ask about your father, and not about you. It was as if you weren't even an option, but just the daughter of the great attorney Park.

In a way, it was comforting to know that the event wouldn't last long and maybe someone you knew would show up to relieve your boredom.

Someone like Heeseung.

“You look lonely.” Heeseung’s unmistakable voice behind you stole your attention, making you turn around at once “Maybe you need some company?”

Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened at the sight of Heeseung in a black suit and parted hair in front of you.

Your eyes shamelessly roamed over Heeseung's entire body seeing how the suit was intricately molded to his torso and waist. The black dress shirt he was wearing underneath was plain and was slightly open to reveal a bit of Heeseung's collarbone and his thin silver necklace.

“Oh, it’s you.” You swallowed hard and kept your face straight, nonchalant at seeing him. After 3 days of not talking to you, this is how he shows up?

He had his hands in his pants pockets and approached you with that smirk that drove you crazy “You look beautiful.” He took your hand and gave it a soft kiss on your knuckles while piercing through you with his intense eyes.

You felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach and a shiver ran down your spine seeing Heeseung's delicacy. Even if you wanted to be angry at him, it would be difficult to remain that way when he acted like this, it’s like he knew exactly what to do to disarm you.

“Thank you.” Heeseung’s eyes couldn’t move away from your figure, making your neck heat up.

“Your suit looks good.” You spoke sincerely and Heeseung chuckled “Just my suit?” He whispered, bringing his face closer to yours and firmly held your waist making you look away.

“What do you want, Heeseung?” Your cheeks were burning and your lips puckered in a cute pout that Heeseung found adorable even if you were speaking in a harsh way.

“Can we talk?” You felt weak at his gentle tone combined with the way he sweetly stared at you “Talk about what?” He chuckled through his nose and tilted his head so he could whisper in your ear “Stop pretending like you don't know.” The way his warm breath tickled your ear made you dizzy.

“Fine.” You sighed and crossed your arms trying to maintain your posture “Let's go somewhere.” You weren't going to talk about this in front of everyone, so you decided to lead the way to some secluded place where you would have the privacy you needed while you struggled to organize your thoughts. What was he going to talk to you about? The kiss? What did it really mean?

Your anxiety was already at its peak, but you felt a sense of deja vu when he placed his hand behind your back as you walked down the hall.

“So, are you enjoying the event?” He asked in a whisper and you snickered “’Enjoying’ is a strong word...” Your sigh made Heeseung raise an eyebrow “It’s boring.”

“I thought these parties were your thing.” He confessed and you mockingly glanced at him “I’m just used to them, but they’re usually a drag.”

“Yeah, it must be hard growing up going to rich people’s parties and eating the best of the best.” He said ironically and you pushed him lightly, giving him a sour smile “It’s not that fun when you have to flatter others so they don’t talk bad about you or your father.”

Your confession made him stare at you for a moment and go silent. Heeseung knew that you were a layered person and that in the past he had a lot of bad impressions of you, so maybe he needed to admit that he was wrong and try to see things from your point of view.

Suddenly you left the main hall and managed to find an empty room in an isolated corridor away from everyone. You entered and realized that it was a small storage room full of folders on dark grey shelves, a table and a locked cabinet.

After you both entered the room, Heeseung locked the door behind him, and you stood in front of the table with your arms crossed, impatiently staring at him. Unfortunately for your heart, it seemed like his addictive scent was even more evident in this closed room.

“So?” Your tone was impatient “What do you want?” He slowly smirked and approached you cautiously.

“You seem angry.” he stood in front of you making you scoff and put your hands on your hips “You didn't answer my question, Heeseung.”

Heeseung took a deep breath and looked away for a moment. He spent the whole afternoon mentally rehearsing what he was going to say, but now that he was in front of you it was different. Your red dress was making him lose his mind.

He needed to be honest, and he wouldn't run away anymore.

“I'm sorry.” your face softened at the sincerity in his voice “I’m sorry for disappearing, I know I should have said something.” Heeseung looked at you tenderly and touched your cheek “But ever since we kissed, I got crazy, like I genuinely couldn’t sleep, study or do anything without you showing on my mind” he breathed out “So… I needed to understand what I was feeling.”

You swallowed hard as you waited for him to finish.

“The truth is that I can’t stop thinking about you.” he whispered, moving closer to you “I know that since we met, we haven’t gotten along, and maybe I’m at fault at this because I’ve been an idiot to you several times, but there’s just… something about you…” he slid his fingertips under your jaw “You drive me crazy.”

Your heartbeat was already going crazy, while your breath was caught in your throat. The closer he got, the more you felt your feelings stir.

“What do you mean by that?” you frowned and crossed your arms, trying not to be shaken by Heeseung’s words and scent invading your senses.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “What I mean is that I’m here admitting that I want you.” he spoke directly making your legs weak.

Heeseung came closer and you felt your back touch the table behind you. His hands went straight to your waist as he pressed your body against his. Your back arched slightly and Heeseung brought his face closer to yours. “Do you really want me?” you asked shakily under the atmosphere pressure, and he smiled.

"Yes, I want you." he whispered against your mouth as he gripped the corner of your neck with the long fingers of his right hand "Isn't it obvious?"

His body radiated a unique heat that destroyed all your sanity. His dark eyes looked at you with intensity, breaking down all the defenses you swore you had put up against him.

“You’re all I have on my mind.” his smooth lips brushed against yours and your breathing became heavy “Can I kiss you?” his question was like an arrow being pierced through your heart “Yes.” you whispered, holding onto Heeseung’s forearms.

He smiled and kissed you passionately, pressing his body against yours. An electrifying current ran through your entire body when you felt his lips move intensely and passionately.

Heeseung kissed you with an insatiable desire. He couldn't get enough of your taste. He always wanted more and more. Suddenly, you groaned when you felt his tongue slide over yours and his hands grip your hips.

You couldn't deny it. Heeseung knew exactly what he was doing, and it was so hot that you pulled him by his collar wanting more.

Heeseung moved his kisses down to your jaw and you gasped when you felt him grab your body by your thighs and place you on the table behind you.

“Did you dress up for me?” he whispered as he attacked your neck with desire “No, I always dress well.” you tried to answer feeling your breath quicken. Your hands went straight to Heeseung’s hair and he smiled against your skin “Aw, it’s a shame. I thought you wanted to impress me.”

Heeseung kissed your sensitive spot below your ear and you moaned making him smile against your skin “Why? Are you impressed?” you teased Heeseung and he moved his hands up your thigh under your red dress.

“Yeah.” he placed a lingering kiss on the center of your throat making your body tremble with desire “You're looking so fucking beautiful in this dress.” he kissed you again as you pulled him towards you with your legs. This time he kissed you slowly and deeply while holding onto your loose hair.

Heeseung was on cloud nine. How much he had missed feeling your lips on his, clashing in perfect harmony. When you pulled away from his mouth to breathe and began to kiss the length of his neck, he moaned, making you close your legs around him.

“You should see me when I'm not wearing it, then.” you whispered sensually before biting Heeseung's ear making his breath shaky as he squeezed your thighs tightly “Fuck — stop teasing me, baby.” The way he called you made your stomach turn.

“Why? What are you going to do if I don't stop?” You looked into his eyes, faking innocence, and began to slowly open the buttons of his suit, teasing him with your fingertips “You don't wanna know.” he smirked holding your neck tightly “I'm going to ruin you.” he bit your lower lip making you moan and squeeze his hips with your legs pulling him closer, seeking any kind of contact.

When you finished unbuttoning his suit, you ran your hands over his black dress shirt, sliding down his chest to his stomach, noticing how surprisingly defined he was. Heeseung instinctively groaned into the kiss and pulled your hair back to attack your neck and collarbone, making you gasp.

All of your reactions were like fuel that further fueled the fire inside Heeseung. He knew he couldn't go all the way in this storage, but the way you moaned and squeezed him with your thighs was making it difficult to control himself.

“You're making it hard for me to stop.” Heeseung said in a broken sigh with his forehead pressed against yours as his hands explored you beneath your dress “I want to touch you.” You could see the longing in his glossy eyes, especially by the way his cheeks and ears were burning red.

How beautiful he looked in that state of despair. A sight that only you had the privilege of having: seeing Lee Heeseung completely surrendered to you begging to touch you.

“Okay.” You whispered and cupped your hands around his cheeks, pulling his face to yours in a kiss, making him melt inside. It was insane how his mouth fit perfectly on yours, as if it was made especially for you.

Your entire body was on fire. The butterflies danced deep in your stomach when he slowly pulled the sides of your panties down as he ravished your mouth with his desperate kiss.

Heeseung's bangs were already losing their definition from all the movement and small beads of sweat accumulating on both of your foreheads making you think that your clothes were a big impediment.

With trembling hands, you began to open the buttons of his blouse, feeling the soft skin of his neck and collarbone under your fingers making him let out low grunts that shuddered your mind and body.

He forcefully pulled your legs closer to the edge of the table, making your body arch slightly. Your breathing became uneven as he removed your panties completely, letting them fall to the floor.

In a brief moment of sanity, you couldn’t believe you were doing this with Heeseung inside a storage room. This was dangerous, insane, lewd, and unfortunately, you liked it. It’s like your brain shuts out whenever you get involved with Heeseung.

As his hands began to roam the inside of your thigh you began to feel more desperate. “Heeseung, p–please.” Your stutter made Heeseung smile as his fingers slid across your skin teasingly.

“What?” he asked as he left a trail of kisses on your cheek “Please. Touch me.” You were on edge and he wasn’t helping.

He smiled against your skin, taking small bites on your jaw as his right hand slowly rose, as if to test your patience.

“Heeseung.” You dug your fingers into his shoulder, whispering, like a plea.

But before he could give you what you wanted, your phone started ringing madly. You were startled by the sound, and he pulled away for a moment so you could find your phone in the middle of the table.

You looked at the screen and your body stiffened when you saw that it was your father calling you. Heeseung instantly noticed the change in your body language and distanced himself enough to look at your face.

“Damn it.” You tried to steady your breathing “It’s my father.”

Heeseung stood up straight and reluctantly let go of your body, trying to catch his breath. He felt irritated. Why did it seem like someone always managed to ruin the mood between you two whenever you were alone?

He soon noticed that you were hesitating, so he grabbed your panties and gently pulled them up over your legs and touched your cheek with his knuckles “You need to take this call, don't you?” he asked in a tender whisper and you nodded, feeling suddenly ashamed of the situation you found yourself in.

“I'll give you some space.” he stepped away, closing the buttons on his shirt that you undone and straightening his suit again.

As Heeseung fixed his hair, you closed your legs, feeling completely frustrated at the interruption, and jumped off the table, adjusting your dress.

With a cough to regulate your voice, you answered your phone trying to sound normal.

“Hello? Father?” Heeseung leaned against the wall and stared at you from afar as you lowered the fabric of your dress.

Your face showed an expression of defeat, feeling like this situation is more complicated than it seemed.

Suddenly Heeseung began to reflect on how easily he lost control when he was with you. It seemed like it was too easy to lose himself in you, as if there were no consequences.

“What?” You felt your heart stop at what you just heard “Are you here at the event?”

Heeseung and you looked at each other at the same time, knowing what that meant.

You would have to face your father that night.

☆

Heeseung had helped you adjust your dress before you left the storage room first. Since he didn't want to draw attention, Heeseung had the idea of you going first and then he would leave.

You were clearly upset, frustrated, and tired. Why did your father have to come to this event now? Your mind could barely think straight after what had happened in the storage room.

Your heart calmed down, but you couldn’t forget Heeseung’s confession. How sincere and desperate he sounded. Your mind constantly went back to the way he talked, touched you, acted. He was addictive.

As you mingled through the crowd looking for your father, Heeseung watched you from afar, analyzing your behavior. Apart from the fact that you were a begging mess minutes earlier, the way you tensed every time your father was mentioned made him think there was something more about you that he needed to uncover.

You randomly wandered through the main ballroom and Heeseung approached your figure again “You seem lost.” he commented and you laughed lightly hearted “I’m just looking for my father.”

“What’s he like?” Heeseung asked looking at the crowd with you “Serious? A bit scary, I guess...” you whispered the last part, and he arched his eyebrow “I’ll be right by your side then.”

The way Heeseung showed he cared for you made you smile slightly “What a gentleman…” he smiled feeling the irony of your voice “Of course, I know how to treat a woman.”

You glanced at him, seeing how he was giving that naughty smile that meant he was thinking about things that had nothing to do with chivalry.

“Sweetie, I'm glad you came.” before you could say anything, your conversation was interrupted by your father's voice.

Heeseung turned to the side and saw how unusual your posture was. You suddenly looked more rigid, serious and with a monotonous expression.

You turned to your father and gave him that weak smile that Heeseung knew wasn’t genuine. “Hello, father.” Heeseung noticed how you called your father in a distant and formal way. As if you didn’t have the freedom to call him whatever you wanted.

“I didn’t expect you to come.” As always, you communicated only what was necessary with your father. Nothing less and nothing more. “I managed to get some free time to come see you and see my event.”

Heeseung realized what that meant. He was the famous Attorney Park who sponsored events and ways for people from difficult backgrounds like himself to have a chance in the legal field.

He was a legend in his field and his intentions seemed good, so why did you seem so distant?

“And who is this fine gentleman?” He turned his gaze to Heeseung who instantly bowed and extended his hand in a polite way “I'm Lee Heeseung, sir. Pleased to meet you.” He friendly smiled and your father shook his hand while he analyzed his figure.

“He’s my friend from college.” You replied, surprised at your father’s friendly interaction with Heeseung.

Heeseung didn't miss how you had called him friend and how strange it sounded. He didn't want to be your friend, he wanted much more.

“I didn’t know you had such a polite friend.” Your father seemed to be in a good mood while you felt a little more comfortable seeing that your father had taken a liking to him.

Then suddenly you started to realize how important this had become to you. His opinion of Heeseung was important because you really cared about him.

“I feel honored, sir.” Heeseung smiled gently “So, Heeseung.” Your father's attention was solely focused on Heeseung “Tell me, what do you think of this event?” Your father asked Heeseung, who swallowed hard and gave a gentle smile, feeling his gaze fixed on him.

“I think it is a terrific opportunity, sir. I had the chance to have a fruitful conversation with a few attorneys along with a friend and we had some great legal advice.” he was sincere and you bit your lower lip trying to contain your smile at how his vocabulary suddenly went back to being completely formal compared to the way he normally speaks to you.

It was hilarious to see him chatting calmly and composed as if he hadn't been absolutely ravishing you just minutes ago in a storage room.

“That’s great.” Your father gave a satisfied smile with his answer “Me and a few other colleagues sponsored this kind of event because life wasn’t easy for us, so we want to help the next generation in the best way possible.” Heeseung looked away to see Jake seemed more well-behaved than usual as he chatted with two older attorneys from afar.

“It’s an amazing event, sir. We are really grateful for this unique opportunity.” Heeseung smiled sincerely as your father seemed pleased with the conversation “What do you plan to do in the future, son?” Heeseung was left speechless for a moment “I want to be an attorney, sir.” You noticed how his voice trembled a little and you noticed how this was a big deal to him. This is his dream for real.

“That’s wonderful.” Your father gave a smile that left him stunned. It had been a long time since you had seen your father smile like that. “Since I became an attorney, I’ve been able to change my family’s lives, so I would say it’s worth it.” Heeseung felt an instant sense of identification with the sentence your father said.

“That’s why I have high expectations for my daughter.” He looked at you and you gave a tense smile that Heeseung instantly noticed “She’s the best in the class so she would indeed be a sensational attorney, but if I may say this, sir, I believe that regardless of the career she decides to pursue in law, I know she will be successful, because she’s brilliant in everything she decides to do.” Heeseung spoke seriously and you looked away from him, feeling your heart melt completely with his praise.

He could have promoted himself or just kept quiet. But he decided to risk it all by praising you to that degree, even without knowing your father.

And just like lightning strikes a tree and burns it, you realized the obvious truth: you were in love with Lee Heeseung and would accept the consequences that would come with that reality.

Your father looked at the two of you making it obvious he was analyzing the situation and understanding what was happening right there. The way Heeseung firmly said that, and you got shy made it obvious that you two were more than friends.

“It’s true.” Your father’s answer surprised you “If I’m being honest, I wish she could be an attorney like me, without the sufferings I had to go through, but I know her path can change, so I want her to be successful in any field.” You felt your body stiff. It was the first time your father had said something like that about you.

He didn't open up about his feelings very much, so you always thought that being an attorney in his office was everything he dreamed of and determined for you. "That’s why I’m strict with you.”  He looked at you with that stoic look you never understood “Well, you know I want the best for you, my dear." You nodded, feeling a whirlwind of sensations.

This interaction was different from what you expected. Your father was a mysterious man, of few words and curious actions, but you knew he was trying his best, despite being terrible atcommunicating his own feelings.

You may need more time to talk until you finally understand what kind of person your father is, but this brief, unexpected interaction is enough for now.

“Since you want to be an attorney, then come visit my office someday.” he turned to Heeseung who was stunned by the proposal “I can give you some advice when I have time.”

“It would be an honor, sir.” He showed your father an excited smile and you held back the urge to tease him right there. He was so cute when he got excited about a subject that interested him, especially about law.

“Father, you’re going to take all his time.” You said, smiling with your eyes, and your father laughed out loud “That’s right, I came here to stop by quickly and ended up talking too much.”

Your father shook Heeseung's hand and turned to you “Come visit me later, sweetie. It's been a while since we had dinner together.” You gave a slight smile and nodded “Of course, father.”

With one last greeting he took one last look at you and Heeseung before leaving without saying anything.

A part of you felt relieved, because for the first time in years you didn't feel so awkward after interacting with your father.

“Who would have thought, I'm alive to see Lee Heeseung wanting to go to my father's office.” You mocked Heeseung and he laughed, running his hand through his hair.

“Is that how you learned to give that fake passive-aggressive smile of yours?” he asked in a comical tone looking into your eyes and you smiled gently “It’s a basic prerequisite for survival in this environment.”

“It seems like a complicated cycle.” he said gently, turning to you “It is. You need to be perfect, always.” You glanced at Heeseung, seeing how stunning he was that all you could think about was how you wanted to attack him again “But I learned to deal with it.”

He looked at you again and felt a wave of remorse hit him. Ever since you met, he had been completely stupid and unbearable with you because of assumptions he made in his mind, but the more he got to know you, the more he realized that you were completely different.

“You know, I think I’ve been misjudging you all this time.” Heeseung confessed and you were surprised by his revelation “I thought you were the kind of insufferable rich girl who had no sense of reality, but I guess I was an idiot for thinking that without getting to know you first.”

“Heeseung—” “No, let me finish.” He looked into your eyes and touched your cheek with his hand as gently as possible “I’m really sorry for being such an ass to you for so long.”

Your heart seemed to explode as you heard Heeseung's sincere words.

“In a way I judged you because you seemed like you had an easy life, while I had to fight for a lot of things.” he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment “I know this is no excuse and I was immature and stupid, but I want to start over with you. Can we?” You gave him a mischievous smile “How can I deny it when Lee Heeseung is admitting his own defeat before me?”

He smiled, taking your hand between his knuckles “I'm serious. I'm sorry for the way I acted. I think you messed with me in some way since the beginning and I didn't know how to deal with those feelings.” the way he was finally opening up and confessing why he was so unbearable made everything fit together in your mind “So that’s why you were so annoying?” your suspicious look drew a hearty laugh from Heeseung “Yes, that too, but to be honest… it's actually really fun to tease you.”

You looked at each other for a moment, making him give that damn smirk that reminded you why you get lost in Heeseung every time you get alone. “I'm really trying to contain myself here, but you're not cooperating.” He whispered and looked away, making you give a discreet laugh.

“Oh, I didn't know you got so worked up because of me.” You whispered holding his arm innocently “I’m sorry mr. Lee, it's my fault.”

Heeseung looked at you like you were the most magnificent thing on the face of the earth. Suddenly he smiled and offered his arm so you could wrap your hands around it. “You better stop, or we won’t get to enjoy the rest of this event.”

You held his arm and smiled excitedly “Why? What are you going to do?” Heeseung sighed and gave one last whisper in your ear “Or we’ll have to finish what we started in that storage room.”

And with a few words Lee Heeseung made the nervousness boil in the pit of your stomach, making you excited about the idea of doing lewd things with him.

If someone had told you at the beginning of the semester that you would now be dating Lee Heeseung and walking hand in hand around campus, you would have thought they were crazy and needed to be hospitalized. But here you were, walking with a wide smile and bright eyes, your hand intertwined with Heeseung's soft fingers.

Gaeul was the first to know and she let out such an excited scream that you swore the entire building heard it. Yes, she was clearly loving the news and repeated several times about how 'she already knew' and 'it was obvious and only you didn't realize it' , but either way it was wonderful to feel like you had your best friend's support and to see how excited she was for your happiness.

Yes, indeed you were very happy, and this was unexpected since it was something you hadn't planned, it just happened. Heeseung had taken you out to dinner, given you roses and a necklace that officially symbolized that you were together. And of course, this was much more than you expected.

Ever since you and Heeseung were chosen as project partners, your mood was constantly tested, and you swore it was the worst thing that could have happened to you this semester. However, despite the initial disagreements, you ended up seeing another side of each other and you were surprised by the person Heeseung revealed himself to be.

A wonderful and passionate man in everything he does.

“Ugh, you guys are disgustingly cute.” Jake commented as Heeseung ate his lunch after putting more tomato on your plate because one day you said you loved the cafeteria salad.

“Thanks? I guess…” Heeseung laughed at his friend’s reaction while you ate your lunch calmly.

After you started dating Heeseung, you got to know more of his friends, and because of that, you realized that you didn't interact as much with people from college, so it's good to feel that your circle of friends has increased significantly.

“I always knew you two were a good match.” Jay said, taking a drink of juice, and Gaeul agreed with him “Oh my God, yes!!! I said the same thing! But she didn’t believe me.”

“Hey, why is our relationship being a topic at lunch?” You replied and they laughed, amused by the situation.

Heeseung was in a good mood. The atmosphere was lively, comfortable, and ideal. It was as if everything was going very well.

Just one thing that was making him nervous: The lack of time for you two to be alone.

Aside from the times you needed to meet up to study and work on your project, his activities and work were cutting into your time together and it was driving him crazy. He simply wanted to spend quality time with you without having to leave quickly because of some appointment or because someone interrupted you.

That's why he had decided that that day would be just for the two of you. He had already told Jake that he wouldn't talk to anyone and that he needed to be at peace with his girlfriend. So, after much debating, he decided that he needed to be alone with you and that was the day you would finally be together.

☆

“Babe, I can't believe we finally have some free time.” Heeseung was lying on his bed completely satisfied while you were lying flat on top of him. His right hand was firmly on your waist while his left rested on your cheek. His thumb drew patterns on your skin while you played with the buttons on the collar of his shirt “I know right? I guess our project and your job took a lot of our time.”

“I was dying to be like this with you.” He confessed, sliding his hand down your back “Just you and me.” You giggled, suddenly feeling shy “Me too.” Your confession made Heeseung smile mischievously.

How good it was to know that no one would interrupt you.

“Yeah?” He smiled, giving you a kiss on the cheek, another on your nose and finally on your mouth, making you smile gently.

Heeseung knew that you had become his calm place. Where he could rest and most importantly, stay.

It was curious how you had snatched his heart completely in just 4 months.

Because despite canceling himself out daily for the goals he felt he needed to accomplish, your presence came like a thunderbolt, changing his reality and allowing Heeseung to feel things he no longer remembered how they were.

He remembered what it was like to feel genuine desire for someone. What it really meant to genuinely care for someone.

“Hmhum.” You murmured in agreement with him, feeling his hands slide gently down to your behind squeezing the skin there making you sigh with pleasure.

“Is this okay?” he asked, acting innocent as he lifted the fabric of your skirt to touch your bare skin. His wet lips slid down your cheek, heading towards your neck.

Heeseung wasn’t in a hurry. He had all the time in the world, and he was going to enjoy most of it.

“Yes.” You replied trying not to lose your senses, as Heeseung kissed your neck at the slowest pace possible “You're so pretty, baby. Did you choose this skirt just to see me?” He asked and you smiled, nodding your head.

He smiled over your skin and nibbled, making your breath tremble and moan softly. Heeseung wanted to show you how desired you were, and he would take as much time as necessary to do so.

The afternoon was calm, silent, just like the afternoon of the day you kissed for the first time. He still remembers your subtle hesitation, as if you didn't know what to do at that moment but still responded to his kiss in a way he never imagined.

With his left hand Heeseung moved up the velvety skin of your back beneath your blouse. Your skin was soft, delicate, with a velvety touch that he loved to feel.

He couldn't get enough of the contrast of how soft your skin was compared to the hardness of his hands. He kissed your jaw slowly in a way that made you close your eyes and surrender completely.

When he finally reached your lips you intertwined your fingers in his hair, pulling him towards you. How you had missed this.

Heeseung kissed you slowly, taking his time as he enjoyed the softness of your lips moving against his. He could taste a faint strawberry from the lip gloss you were wearing.

The damn lip gloss that always caught his attention.

The kiss quickly sped up as Heeseung licked your bottom lip, making you gasp and moan as his tongue entered your mouth. He was no longer patient, after all, it was very easy to lose all control when it came to you. His hands went down under your skirt and grabbed your skin, making your desperate moans be swallowed by Heeseung's mouth.

Heeseung's handprints were left on the skin of your thighs, as if they were a tattoo of his deep desire that you wanted to keep it. He kissed you eagerly, thirsty, wanting to taste every inch of your body and touch you as you deserve.

He pulled your body up tightly, holding onto your hips, making him grunt at the sensation of your body pressing over his pants. He was breathless, but he didn't want to stop kissing you. He moved away slightly to adjust himself on the bed and you felt your head spin with all the action.

Your lips were already bruised from the desperate kiss, and you felt a chill in your stomach seeing how Heeseung's mouth was red and swollen and he still wanted more. He wasn't satisfied, he wanted to taste your entire body and mark it with everything he had: his hands, his lips and his teeth.

He grabbed the hem of your shirt and his breath hitched as you sat lightly on top of him and took off your own shirt “Are you blushing Heeseung? How cute…” You teased him by holding his cheeks, seeing how red they were along with his ears. Heeseung was feeling sick at the sight of you topless, wearing only a delicate pink lace bra and your short skirt that was already rolled up.

“Yeah.” Your hands rested on his chest, feeling his heartbeat at a frantic pace. He was so mesmerized by you that he could barely respond. His eyes roamed over your curves and he swallowed hard as he ran his hands up the skin of your torso, sending shivers down your spine.

“You're so beautiful, baby.” He whispered into your neck as he marked your skin with his teeth making you weak “Want to see more of you.” You pulled Heeseung’s face towards you, kissing him intensely. The mixture of your breaths with the suffocating encounter of your tongues made the air around you heat up.

Your hands pulled Heeseung's black shirt up as he helped you by giving you desperate kisses. Your body heated up at the sight of Heeseung's defined abs and you slid your fingertips across his skin, making Heeseung moan.

Heeseung wrapped his arms around you and turned you around, placing your body on the mattress and climbing on top of you.

He was absolutely breathtaking.

The strands of his bangs tickled your nose as he kissed you passionately. Your fingers gripped the back of his neck and your nails scratched the skin there, making him let out low grunts that made you even hotter.

Your hands slid down Heeseung's toned back as he trailed kisses along your jaw, down the line of your throat, kissing over the skin of your chest.

Heeseung made it his personal goal to mark all the skin on your body with his mouth if that was possible. He kissed and marked with hickeys whatever was possible while his hand squeezed the skin of your chest under your bra making you whimper.

With his right hand he moved up your back touching the clasp of your bra, opening it as he kissed the skin of your belly going lower and lower.

Amidst your sighs, Heeseung in one action took off your skirt and underwear, leaving you a little embarrassed and shocked with his dexterity.

Instinctively you closed your legs as he looked at you, feeling that his self-control had already disappeared. You were completely perfect.

But he wanted more.

Your soft skin seemed to glow with the small beams of light that escaped from his bedroom window. You were there, beneath him without clothes, and he was sure that you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

No one would ever compare to you.

“Don't be shy, I want to taste you.” he got on his knees, touched the top of your knees and slid down your legs looking at you between his messy bangs as you felt your heart explode inside your chest “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

Your insides churned with agitation, and you obeyed him slowly, feeling your cheeks heat up at the bold way he spoke.

Heeseung's gaze changed. He looked determined, insatiable, and desperate to taste every part of your skin.

He stood between your legs, kissing down your belly to the lower part of your stomach, holding onto your thighs, making you place your hand on his face, caressing him lightly. He felt his heart melt at your affection.

Heeseung placed his face in the palm of your hand, placing a tender kiss on the inside of your skin. He nuzzled into the warmth of your hand before giving you a lewd look that made your breath catch.

He kissed your thighs, making you anxious. His dark brown hair revealed reddish highlights from the light and you noticed the small mole he had on his forehead.

There was no denying that Heeseung was beautiful. And he was all yours.

Every time you felt Heeseung's mouth marking your skin, your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensation. He didn't fail to notice how soaked you were already, making his pants tighten.

Heeseung devoured you with desire. He was relentless, savoring and sucking on your skin at an insane pace, as if he was starving. At times, he looked at you, taking it your reactions and feeling a sense of pride fill his chest at how desperate you looked by his marks. Your hands pulled his dark locks, making him grunt as you became numb with pleasure.

Your legs were wobbly, but Heeseung held on tightly while he marked more spots on your skin. You noticed how the veins on his forearms ran up to the back of his hands.

At that moment he was incredibly sexy.

You could not form comprehensible words, only broken moans and loud sighs that couldn't be translated.

“Feels so good, Hee.” You almost cried and Heeseung felt his heart clench at the way you called him “More.”

Heeseung on the other hand loved it all. He loved losing himself in you and seeing how desperate you became as he skillfully worked your body.

“Fuck—” He took a deep breath and gave a shaky sigh before sucking another spot at your inner thigh “Say that again, princess.”

“More, Hee—” Your voice could barely finish his name while Heeseung felt his pressure rise at the sound of your voice and panting moans.

As you melted under Heeseung's mouth, he held your hips so they wouldn't move up while he continued to kiss your bare skin from your lower stomach up to your mouth.

He gave you a tender peck on the corner of your mouth “You taste so good baby.” He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you felt his hands roam over your body possessively “I want to make you mine.”

“Please.” You nodded with your eyes closed “I need you.” He smiled and kissed you once more as his right hand combed through your hair, intertwining his fingers in the strands on your scalp.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him madly, hoping he would understand all the feelings you wanted to deliver intrinsically with your kiss.

With ragged breathing he got to his knees, undoing his belt, while you tried to recover from everything that happened.

His forehead was wet with sweat and some strands of his bangs stuck to his skin. You felt your body tremble with anticipation, biting your lower lip at the sight of Heeseung giving a mocking smirk while not taking his eyes off you.

“How do you want it?” he teased you as he took off his pants, seeing how completely needy you were for his touch “Slow?” he took off his piece of clothing, hovering over you “or rough?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the question and he smiled watching as you closed your legs lightly around his hips at the last suggestion.

“Rough, huh?” He pulled your body closer by your hips and straddled you again “Is that right?”

That afternoon would be all about you. Heeseung decided that making you feel good would be his top priority and nothing else mattered. If you wanted it rough, he would give you exactly that.

“Yes.” You replied in a low whisper feeling your chest heave with excitement and Heeseung brushed his lips over yours “Yeah? You're so naughty, baby.” he bit his lower lip holding your wrists beside your head “You have this innocent pretty face, but you like it rough, huh?”

He crashed his lips into you with a deep kiss again, exploring your entire mouth violently with his tongue. He came to the conclusion that he would never get tired of your lips.

It was a messy, wet, intense and completely overwhelming kiss. Heeseung released your wrists, wrapping you in his arms, pulling your body into him, making your stomach knot with his aggression.

Your moans were swallowed by Heeseung's mouth as the pressure of his body on yours drove you crazy. He began attacking your neck with open kisses as he positioned himself between your legs.

“Please, Hee.” Heeseung smiled seeing how you begged for him. Just like the way he always dreamed of “I want you so bad.”

Your hands grabbed his strong shoulders, and he sucked in a breath, trying to control himself with the ecstatic sensation of your body enveloping him completely “You want me, baby?” Heeseung members were shaking as he heard your delirious whimpers in anticipation “So, be good for me and wait like a good girl.”

Heeseung's heartbeat was already racing in an insane rhythm as he held onto your hips tightly, sinking it into the mattress, but not giving what you wanted. “S-Stop teasing, Hee.” You whispered in despair, and he breathlessly moaned, feeling your nails scratching the back of his head between your choking whimpers.

“Sorry baby, I just wanna take my time with you.” While you felt Heeseung’s body completely over yours, your nails sank down the length of his beautiful, toned back, scratching his skin, and your forehead rested on his shoulder, hiding your face. Heeseung grabbed your jaw and pulled your face to him, kissing you, making your eyes water slightly “Look at me.” he whispered with a shaky breath over your mouth “I want to see your pretty face.”

“Hah—” You opened your slightly blurry eyes and could barely respond to Heeseung, who was breathing irregularly, adjusting himself at the perfect position “C'mon baby, you can take it.” he whispered, wrecking you completely.

Heeseung felt butterflies in his stomach seeing the sight of you beneath him writhing in pleasure. It was lewd, sexy and scorching. It was everything he wanted: to see you completely surrendered under him while he roughly handled you.

He finally realized that every day he discovered more reasons to love you, and he was happy that your love story was just starting.

At that moment, nothing else crossed your mind other than his name: Heeseung. So, you allowed yourself to give yourself completely to Heeseung and fall apart under his touch and the intoxicating feeling of his body on top of yours, giving you everything you wanted most.

☆

After a long bath and more stolen kisses, you were cuddling on Heeseung's bed while he stroked your hair.

“I'm so tired.” He said, smelling his shampoo on your damp hair “I need to sleep for about 10 hours straight to recover.”

You laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek “How a college student would find time to sleep for 10 hours?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find a way.” he touched your cheek with the back of his fingers, caressing the spot “And you? Are you tired?” You nodded as you let yourself be numbed by the smell of Heeseung’s perfume “This semester killed me.”

“I know right? It feels like we didn’t even have a break.” He stroked your hair affectionately “And speaking of breaks… my dad wants you to have dinner with us next time.” You spoke in an uncertain tone, afraid of Heeseung’s reaction to the sudden invitation “Really?” He smiled at the corner of his mouth and looked at you, noticing how shy you were “Yes, at the last dinner we had he mentioned that he wanted me to invite you. I think deep down he realized that there was something between us since the day of the foundation event.” Heeseung chuckled remembering the interaction they had.

You felt more comfortable seeing how excited Heeseung seemed with the invitation “Sure, I’ll go.” he looked at you with a loving look that filled your chest “And how was dinner?”

“It was kinda weird… but nice.” Heeseung noticed a slight smile on your face. You usually had a strange relationship with your father, but ever since the day of the foundation event it seemed like your father had shown a new side. “We didn’t talk much, but I think I’m finally understanding a bit how my father’s mind works.”

Heeseung remained silent, leaving you comfortable to vent “Did you talk about your plans of not working on his office after graduation?” you smiled a bit “Kinda... I talked about the informal invitations I received from other offices, and he seemed neutral. He said I should analyze the opportunities that will come my way very carefully.”

“That sounds like a good answer.” Heeseung commented and you nodded “I feel like since my dad spent most of his time working to give me the best, we never really talked much, but now I think he’s trying, in his own way.”

“Maybe he’s not good with words, but he seems to care about you.” Heeseung stroked your cheek with his thumb “It was always like that, he never said much, but he tried his best.”

“Well, at least you had the courage to tell him about the proposals you received and now you can rest easy.” You smiled and gave Heeseung a long kiss that melted his heart “Yes, thank you for listening to me, baby.”

“Of course, love.” He gave you a long kiss on the cheek and looked into your eyes with an amused look “So… does that mean your father likes me?” Heeseung wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, giving you that confident smile that made you push his face away as he laughed “Oh, here you go again...”

“What? It's true.” He watched you run your fingers through his hair “I’m the best son-in-law he could ask for.”

You gave a mocking smile seeing Heeseung's confidence “And to think that I'm dating you... maybe I've gone crazy.” He pulled you by the waist, giving you a hug from behind and a kiss on the back of your neck “Yes... crazy about me.”

Yes, you had to admit that he was right.

You were crazy about Heeseung.

Mrs. Jung was attentive with a serene and calm expression as she watched you present your project. The entire class seemed impacted by the union of the best students in the course creating an impeccable synchronization. It was impressive how you were able to complement each other on the points where each of you had difficulty.

You and Heeseung were a duo that seemed to be perfect for chaos, but right now, everything seemed to fall into place as you showcased your incredible project with unique nuances. From the beginning, you overcame many barriers to give your best, and finally you could reap the fruits of your hard work.

“In conclusion, we must recognize that this evolution of human rights within international law is of utmost importance. In short, International States are not only composed of power and sovereignty, but also of individuals who need to be protected and guarded.” Heeseung naturally confidently ended his part by introducing the final conclusion of the project. It was clear that this was the environment in which he felt comfortable, presenting something he had the authority to speak about.

“And therefore, the protection of human rights is not just a mere internal concern of each Internacional State, but also of the entire global legal system.” You finish the presentation to the sound of polite applause filling the room. Mrs. Jung gave a satisfied smile and stood up from her chair holding the evaluation clipboard she was holding.

“I must say, when I paired you up I knew you had potential, but I’m immensely surprised.” You swallowed hard, fearing her assessment, since she was known as a strict teacher. “You decided to approach a complex topic, but the way you both explored and conducted the research was very interesting. It was a pleasant surprise, I’m very satisfied.”

Heeseung and you looked at each other, feeling flattered by the teacher’s praise. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Jung.” You thanked her and went to sit in your seats with smiles on your faces.

As Mrs. Jung called the next pair, Heeseung was feeling elated. You had finally finished this project and you had definitely gotten top marks, but the best part was knowing that he had won the best prize: you.

Heeseung's hand touched your thigh discreetly under the table and you turned to him trying not to smile. "Hee! What are you doing? We're in class!” You whispered in his ear and he gave a small smile “Relax, I'm just recovering my energy.”

You gave an airy laugh and placed your hand over his, intertwining your fingers “Can't believe I'm dating you.” He gave a closed-mouth smile and leaned down to your ear “I know, right? You're so lucky…” Heeseung whispered in an ironic tone and you held back from laughing.

“Oh, please.” You commented playfully “I’m trying to concentrate here, Hee.” Heeseung sighed and squeezed your hand before placing an affectionate kiss on your palm “My bad, baby. You're so pretty I lost my focus.” You rolled your eyes but felt your heart flutter “So cheesy…”

“But you love it.” He smiled and turned to the front.

You really loved the antics of Lee Heeseung, your former rival, project partner and best boyfriend you could ask for.

☆

1 YEAR LATER

Lying in your bed while reading a doctrine was Heeseung's guilty pleasure. Your mattress was much softer than his, your pillows were super comfortable, and the sweet smell of the bamboo air freshener you bought was chef's kiss.

He was calm, reading one of your favorite criminal law books that you had recommended due to the author's impeccable didactics. Your eyes scanned his figure, admiring his concentration.

He was wearing glasses, with messy hair and a black tank top that definitely wasn't cooperating with your thoughts. He looked too perfect, too good for someone who was just reading.

You usually loved doing your makeup or any other kind of activity while Heeseung read something in your room. Even the silence was comfortable between you because of his warm presence.

But today you couldn't concentrate properly. Heeseung was too handsome, and it was disturbing your mind. How dare he be so sexy like that without even trying?

It was unfair how he was so mesmerized by his book that he didn't realize how needy you were just by the sight of Heeseung in your bed.

You climbed onto your bed and crawled towards him, who seemed more focused than ever. When Heeseung felt your weight on his lap, he looked up from his book and stared at your angelic face. “What are you doing?” You smiled, pulling the book down “You need a break.”

“Babe, I was finally getting the grip of The Fruit of the Poisonous Tree theory!” He groaned feeling your body rub against the fabric of his pants “I’m just getting rid of your stress.” You said innocently as you placed the book on another corner of the bed “My stress? I think you are getting rid of your stress, miss.”

He held onto your waist, watching you hold onto his chubby cheeks. It was disconcerting how he could be cute and sexy at the same time. “Okay, maybe you’re right, but I still think a break would be good to you.” You gave him a peck on the lips that made him smile over your mouth.

“Yeah?” he asked, fitting his face into your neck “I guess I need a break then.” You sighed, feeling him run his lips along the length of your neck and smiled against your skin “Great.” your fingers intertwined in Heeseung’s soft hair, making him grunt and attack your mouth.

With your left hand you took off Heeseung's glasses and threw them on the bed as you deepened the kiss. His hands slid down your torso, eliciting broken moans from you.

As your senses were lost in Heeseung, your cell phone vibrated with the notification of your email.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for an internship position at our law firm. We look forward to receiving your answer as soon as possible. — Jung & Taylor Legal Advisors

Perhaps your and Heeseung's journey into the legal world was just in the beginning.

☆

☆

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perm taglist: @laurradoesloveu @bamguetismee @shawnyle @batsratswrites @jellymiki @mitmit01 @onlyticket-home

[ambi01]

Same yn same he is soo hot and there is no reason to be that hot

ㅤㅤ DEVOURㅤ﹑ㅤpark sunghoon

ㅤ ﹙158O﹚────sunghoon is hot and he doesn ’ t know it ｡⠀

𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗋⠀ 雨，⠀loser vampire bf sunghoon x fem readerㅤ゛AMOUR⠀，skinship, fluff, petnamesㅤ﹙◜ᴗ⁠◝⁠﹚ㅤsunghoon biceps meal yeah .. this is very self indulgent ><

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ REBLOG FOR SMOOCHES !

the eerie silence of the apartment doesn’t escape sunnghoon’s attention. his footsteps feel oddly loud against the tiles, a sigh rolling off his tongue as he steps inside the kitchen; and a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

“i think you should choke me,”

nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared your dear boyfriend for the words that leave your mouth as soon as he walks out of the shower.

with his head whipping towards you, he freezes in stance— jaw dropped, eyes wide open, head tilted in confusion.

“huh?” sunghoon gives you a questionable look, blinking him to some logic— anything to make sense of your words. “wouldn’t that be life threatening?”

and you shrug. “i could be into that,”

sunghoon doesn’t think he has met anyone like you in his seven hundred something years on earth.

his fangs amused you instead of scaring you the first time he told you he is a vampire. you went around for weeks wanting him to bite you— turn you— but he successfully talked you out of it.

now that you have found a trace of normalcy in the five weeks that you have been dating him, your mind finds amusement in his biceps.

“last time,” he pops a cherry in his mouth, shifting weight from one leg to the other. “you wanted me to headlock you,”

“and that was hot as hell,” you insist, eyes gleaming with mischief. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he’d think you might have gone insane.

and you could be— evidently— the veins on his arms and hands do nothing except making you gulp, only onto that last string of sanity.

you don’t think your pretty face, vampire of a boyfriend realises just how hot he is, really.

he thinks it’s a plain obsession— well, one is supposed to be obsessed with their lover. he catches you ogling him when he’s changing the bulb and thinks it’s because you want something.

according to sunghoon, there is absolutely no reason for you to zone out while looking at his hands except that they are pretty, well maintained and manicured.

you also don’t think he knows you joined the same gym as him to watch him workout and not to accompany him in following a healthy lifestyle and improving your heart’s health. simply looking at him heals you enough.

even now, he is standing clueless about why your eyes have zoomed in on his biceps. sunghoon stretches his arm, unintentionally flexing his muscles and it drives you crazy. his sweats hang low on his hips and it’s a sight to see.

you need him and he can’t catch a hint.

“so is that a yes or no?” you make your way to the kitchen, standing behind him as he reaches out for the coffee mugs placed on the top shelf.

you wonder if he puts them there deliberately to tease you, giving you that taunting flash of a slip of his waistline as his shirt rides up when he raises his arm.

your boyfriend shakes his head with a sigh, clearly failing to understand the logic behind your request. “you’re weird,”

“just once,”

“no,” a curt reply.

you’re really testing his patience.

“c’mon, sunghoon, it’s—”

“darling,” and it’s quiet again, aside from your heartbeat echoing in your ears when he easily cages you against the counter, between the very arms that make you weak in the knees. “i am not doing anything that risks your life,”

stupid.

you want to tease, explain what you mean, but your words are lost. sunghoon is hot and his lack of self awareness is life threatening because he is standing close— so close, you can feel the scent of his cologne intoxicating your senses.

you can still see the remains of water on his neck, droplets making their way down his skin. his face is a little flushed from the hot shower while yours is from how hot he is making you feel.

sunghoon’s eyes trace your face up and down, almost setting your heart ablaze when you feel his gaze on your lips for a brief second.

“understood?” he mutters, low and quiet, tucking a finger under your chin to make you look at him, eye to eye, soul to soul.

and you can only gulp when he leans a little closer, pressing himself against you. “yes,”

“good girl,” and he’s gone, stepped back, focused on his coffee, once again unaware of how his actions have left you trippy and dazed.

it is quite infuriating because he does not do it knowingly. sunghoon barely tries and your world shifts a little, stomach flipping and chest fluttering.

unaware of your inner turmoil, he turns around and switches on the coffee machine.

your fingers trace over the edge of the counter mindlessly, mind in a trance half because of what happened, and half due to the sight of his muscular back.

another glance— a quiet step in his direction, lower lip tugged between your teeth and your arms snake around his torso from behind, a cheeky grin forming on your lips as you poke his biceps with your index finger. you’ve never been the one to give up. “can i bite?”

and sunghoon gives up, hands up in the air. “babe, i am the vampire in the relationship,”

[ambi01]

NONSTOP — SIM JAEYUN

loser nerd!jake x fem!reader established relationship in which your virgin geek of a boyfriend has sex for the first time and you can't keep up with his extremely high sex drive mikaela's based on out of my league jake and his need to explore the atoms of your body. | collection MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

this work contains: virgin!jake but he doesn't act like a virgin, p in v, creampie, munch!jake, oral sex (f receiving), jake is a nerd w a monster cock, dirty talk (just blabbering), boob fixation, nipple play, jake wants to research about your pussy smth like that...

loser nerd!jake who looses his virginity to you and becomes obsessed with the feeling of you wrapped around him

jake has no reason to be this excited or maybe he does, because you're below him well, naked — like naked, naked. Curves visible for him to touch, skin bare for him to feel. Not to mention you tits are out, like actual tits, real tits not the virtual kind of game boobs jake has seen online on sketchy ads.

jake is already in ecstasy the moment he lines his tip in your entrance, bulbous tip merely pushing into the opening of your cervix. And you're tight, really tight to the point jake is shocked, groaning in pleasure as he asks, "babe why are you so tight? I mean it feels really good— don't get me wrong but your pussy is sucking me, like a vacuum cleaner."

"jakey," you moan, his cock only half-inserted yet you already feel full, "don't metaphorically link sex to cleaning tools, please."

"sorry baby," he pauses, letting out a soft moan, hands gripping the flesh of your hips as he juts his hips forward instinctively, causing your fingers to curl onto his sheets, "just excited, you know how I am. It's great that you're my girlfriend and you're so hot and that your pussy feels like heaven. Remember how I told you that I thought I'd be a virgin till I was fourty—"

jake's hips thrust forward forward as if it's natural, not like it's his first time having his dick enter the fourth dimension. And when he's truly fully inside you, you let out an euphoric moan, whispering his name under your breath like a ritual.

"fuck baby you feel so good, I didn't know sex would feel so good," jake blabbers, a habit of his when he's entranced, tip of his cock hitting your cervix in rhythmic beats and you can feel him twitch inside of you every time you call his name out. "You know I always had a thing for your tits but now that I've felt what your pussy feels like, I think it's a really close second."

"jakey I'm gonna cum," you wail, back arching as your boyfriend quickens his own pace, chasing his own pleasure, "can we not talk about your boob fixation right now."

"why, they're so pretty," he whines, hands reaching out to kneed the round mound of flesh on your chest, fingers playfully flicking over your nipples as he watches you squirm intently, taking mental notes in his head of your different reactions.

you're overwhelmed with pleasure, and you let out one last whimper of your boyfriend's name before you come undone, slick white cum coating jake's cock as he too releases in you.

jake just stays inside you, still too hyper fixated on your boobs, fingers circling it like he would a game controller, lips darting out in thirst. Would you let him? He hoped you would— "baby can I suck your tits? like put my mouth on it, you know like tongue and all."

your breathing is heavy, and you don't understand how your boyfriend, who deems that it's his first time having sex has such high stamina and drive.

jake continues toying with your nipples, as if your consent was asked just for the sake of asking, and he was going to do it regardless. "I know what sucking is," you hum, hands reaching out to sink your fingers into his messy mop of hair.

taking it as a sign of consent, jake grins goofily, head leaning into your chest as he buries your face between your boobs — he's smiling like a kid in a candy store, tongue darting out to line the rims of your right nipple with saliva, the other nipple given the attention of his fingers as he pinches it.

you whine, thinking that your boyfriend might just be a sex god in disguise of a loser and you'd just hit the jackpot, your fingers curling around the strands of his hair.

he takes your boob in his mouth, sensation making your nipples perk up in need of more and jake hums lazily, the vibrations of his throat making you shiver. and you can feel jake's cock twitch in you, as his hips grind over you like a dog in heat.

"i'm so happy you have tits, they're so perfect like two stress balls, the kinds you'd play with when you're trying to solve a science Olympiad question and you're stuck. They should really start selling boob balls, maybe I should be a founding father of that business, sounds amazing." jake's mouth leaves your boob with a loud, resounding pop, strings of saliva sloppily dangling over his chin and lips as he pitched his idea to you. "i'm already getting hard at the thought, and my mind feels so calm and clear, like i could solve a hundred physics questions right now."

"jakey," you groan, and you don't understand how you're finding this hot.

"don't lie to me and say that you hate that idea, you're throbbing, like pulsating and you're really wet," he states, like he isn't right in the middle of the most mind-blowing sex you've ever had.

"maybe it's because you're still inside me and you're sucking my boobs," you propose to him as he shakes his head in denial, moving his head over to your left nipple, tongue flicking it with one small movement that causes you to let out a soft squeal.

"no, definitely the boob ball thing," he says, fingers moulding it's flesh as his tongue swirled around it.

jake takes his time to work you up, tongue flicking, swirling, and sucking as you slowly reach a new high, hips jutting up into his in need for a new release. and jake is no different, hard at the mere fact that he's in between your tits as he takes his cock out of you only to slam it in again, unapologetically.

this time he pulls out when he's ready to cum, cock covered in milky semen you can barely see the raging red tip as he releases over your stomach, streaks painting your sweat-glossed skin in swatches.

and you're tired, eyelids dropping down yet your boyfriend seemingly never down on energy as he watches the way your gaping hole throbs, slick dripping out of it and he can't help his curiosity as he kneels down between the plush flesh of your thighs, strong arms wrapped around each side as he takes a long lick.

you flinch, and jake does it again, a content gleam in his eyes as he perks up to look at your expression of shock and satisfaction. "you taste really good baby, i was just curious about how you taste but i could literally eat you out right now."

you sigh, resigning to your fate. your boyfriend's curiosity always landing you in unimaginable situations, "but i'm tired," you murmur but jake doesn't stop as you feel the warmth of his tongue dance against your inner thighs.

"you don't have to do anything, baby," jake consoles you, thumb rubbing over your sensitive clit as you let out a lewd sound, "just lie there and take it as a research thing."

"you're researching about..." you drone on, tiredness evident in your voice. jake had just made you cum twice and it seemed like he's made it his ultimate mission to bring you to your utmost limit.

"your pussy," jake states as if it was the most normal thing to do. you'd always knew that jake had a curious mind, and that was one of the things you loved about him, but you didn't know it'd lead to intense rounds of sex with no rest.

jake's tongue probes your gaping hole, a shy touch before he presses the base of his tongue into you, fingers moving to massage your clit. it's tame at first until it's not. jake's tongue doing magic as your juices leak, leading to a loud, lewd slurp as traces of you drip down jake's chin and onto his bedding.

jake's pussy drunk on you and he feels his dick get hard again, a low moan escaping his lips as he continues like it's his calling, fingers occasionally pinching your clit as his tongue drive in and out.

he hears your whine as you come undone again, a new accomplishment for you as he sloppily cleans you up before moving up to place chaste kisses over your body.

"I'm actually going to break up with you," you sigh, eyes barely open and jake gives you an innocent chuckle, his lips glazed with remnants of you, "how are you so horny if it's your first time, i can't believe it."

jake shrugs, moving over to pull you into his bare chest, fingers twirling your hair as you lean into his warmth, limbs tangled and breathing heavy. "it's called having a really hot girlfriend," he states.

in fact, jake feels as if he could continue for hours more. not to mention he's still hard from eating you out, his bulge pressing between your thighs as he laughs guiltily.

"jake," you sigh, knowing what your boyfriend wants to say.

"i won't ask," he says, only for his voice to break the serene silence moments later, "one more round?"

© SJYUNS

[ambi01]

The tension and the accidental flirting is the best combo🫠

professional-ish!

pairing: boss!jake x reader

synopsis: you’re just trying to survive your 9-to-5 without spontaneously combusting, but your painfully attractive boss seems to think you’re flirting. every awkward smile, accidental wink, and misfired message only makes it worse. now he’s looking at you like you’ve got some secret agenda. the truth? you just short-circuit around hot people. it’s not seduction—it’s social malfunction.

genre: workplace romance, crack, accidental flirting(?), some suggestive content

warnings: making out, some touching, jealous!jake, swearing, the writer has slapped all the office lingo known to her

note: sorry for the late post!! this is the last installment for the 2k event yayy! i feel like the ending is kinda rushed, i rewrote the last half so many times i kinda hate this. also i realised this is lowkey similar to the tutor!jungwon fic after writing haha. anyway i hope you enjoy reading!

word count: 4.4k

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

2k event | previous

three days. that’s all it had been. 

three days of nervously memorising names, of smiling too wide at people whose roles you hadn’t quite figured out yet, of laughing a little too loudly at jokes you only half understood. but you were getting there. you’d even found a few coworkers who didn’t seem to mind your presence—who invited you to lunch, who nodded at you in the hallway like you belonged. it was progress.

and then today happened.

you’d walked into the office that morning feeling oddly optimistic. the sun was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the coffee in your hand was still warm, and you’d actually managed to pick an outfit that didn’t make you look like you’d dressed in the dark. for once, you didn’t feel like an imposter.

that should’ve been your first warning.

your hr manager, ms. cho, had intercepted you before you could even reach your desk. “good, you’re here early,” she’d said, her tone brisk but not unkind. “let’s go introduce you to your boss now—he’s been out of town, but he’s back today, and he wants to meet you.”

your stomach had twisted. you’d known, logically, that you’d have to meet him eventually. but you’d hoped for at least another week to settle in, to maybe practise not sounding like a complete disaster in front of someone whose opinion could dictate your future here.

ms. cho led you down a hallway that felt too long, your heels clicking against the polished floors in a rhythm that matched your racing heartbeat. the air smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and expensive cologne, the kind that lingered in elevators long after the person wearing it had stepped out. your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your blazer, your mouth dry as you mentally rehearsed your greeting. nice to meet you, sir. looking forward to working with you, sir. please don’t think i’m incompetent, sir.

then the door opened, and all those carefully prepared words dissolved into static.

because jake sim was—

well.

he wasn’t just your boss. he was a vision.

he stood near the window, the morning light catching the sharp lines of his profile, one hand tucked casually into his pocket like he’d been waiting for you without a single ounce of impatience. his suit was immaculate, the fabric draping over his shoulders in a way that made it clear it cost more than your rent. his hair was styled just so, not a strand out of place, and when he turned to look at you, his lips curled into a charming smile that showcased his quiet confidence.

your felt like you had been submerged into thick viscous honey, your brain too muddled to function.

“ah,” he said in an unfairly smooth and deep voice. “you must be the new hire.”

your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

this wasn’t happening. you were a professional. you’d practised this. you’d literally rehearsed in the mirror last night.

so why were your palms sweating? why was your pulse hammering in your throat like you’d just sprinted up a flight of stairs?

“nice to—nice, sir. i mean. meet. you.”

the second the words left your mouth, you wanted to claw them back. your voice had pitched up, cracking like you were fifteen and going through puberty all over again. your face burned, your ears hot with humiliation, and in a desperate attempt to play it off, you let out a laugh—or at least, the mangled, high pitched attempt at one.

it echoed in the silence.

ms. cho coughed politely. jake’s eyebrow lifted, slow and deliberate, his smirk deepening like he’d just discovered something fascinating.

you were going to die.

in your panic, you took a step back—only for your heel to catch on the edge of a decorative potted plant. your arms pinwheeled, your balance teetering dangerously, and for one horrifying second, you were certain you were about to crash directly into the very expensive looking side table beside you.

somehow, you didn’t. but the damage was done.

jake’s gaze flickered from your flailing limbs back to your face, his expression shifting into something dangerously close to amusement. like you were the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week.

oh god.

you wanted to vanish. you wanted to teleport directly into the nearest trash chute. you wanted to go back in time and never apply for this job.

you see, you had a problem.

a big, humiliating, soul crushing problem that no amount of deep breathing or positive affirmations could fix. it wasn't that you were incompetent—far from it. you'd graduated top of your class, aced every interview, and somehow landed this prestigious position through sheer skill and determination as your first job. no, your problem was far more specific, far more devastating in its simplicity:

you malfunctioned around attractive people.

and not just the casual, oh-they're-nice-looking kind of attractive. no, you short circuited around the kind of devastatingly gorgeous humans who moved through the world like they'd never once doubted their place in it. the kind who could reduce you to a stuttering, blushing mess with nothing more than a glance.

and jake sim?

jake sim was the human embodiment of your downfall.

when hr informed you that you'd been reassigned as his junior assistant, your first reaction had been to laugh—a high, slightly hysterical sound that made the hr manager eye you with concern. 

"this is a great opportunity for you to learn," she'd said, her tone suggesting she didn't understand why you looked like you were about to pass out.

you'd nodded mechanically, your mind already racing through every possible disaster scenario. daily interactions. emails that required actual coherence. eye contact. 

how were you supposed to maintain eye contact when looking at him for too long made your palms sweat and your thoughts scatter like startled birds?

the first week was a special kind of torture.

you arrived early every morning, rehearsing conversations in your head like an actor preparing for a role. you studied his schedule like it was a sacred text, memorising every meeting, every deadline, every detail that might give you even the slightest edge in appearing competent. you told yourself you could do this. you were a professional. you'd worked too hard to let something as trivial as a pretty face unravel you.

but then he'd walk into the room, all sharp suits and effortless confidence, and your carefully constructed composure would crumble like a sandcastle at high tide.

like today.

you'd been reviewing project updates at your desk, your notes meticulously organised, your thoughts clear and focused. you were prepared. you were ready. and then—

"did you get those figures from marketing?"

his voice, smooth and deep, came from directly behind you, closer than you'd expected. you could smell the faint, expensive scent of his cologne—something warm and subtly spicy that made your stomach do a slow, treacherous flip. your fingers froze over the keyboard.

you'd meant to say, "i'll get you those files right away." but what came out was:

"i'll get you anything."

the second the words left your mouth, time seemed to slow. your brain, in its panic, replayed the sentence on a loop, each repetition more horrifying than the last. your pulse pounded in your ears, a frantic drumbeat of oh god oh god oh god.

you tried to laugh it off, but the sound that escaped was less a laugh and more a strangled wheeze, the kind of noise that made people edge away slowly. the silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

jake didn't move. when you finally dared to glance up, his expression was unreadable—just the slight tilt of his head, the faintest arch of one eyebrow. then, slowly, his mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"that's a dangerous thing to offer," he said, his voice low and far too amused.

before you could even attempt to salvage the wreckage of your dignity, he was walking away, leaving you sitting there with your face burning, your hands clenched into fists in your lap.

you wanted to disappear. you wanted to rewind the last thirty seconds and try again. you wanted to march into hr and demand a transfer to a department where you'd never have to speak to another human being again—preferably one located in a remote, soundproof bunker.

but instead, you took a shaky breath, straightened your shoulders, and opened the marketing files with exaggerated focus. you could do this. you would do this.

even if it killed you.

the office whispers started innocently enough. a stifled chuckle when you dropped your pen for the third time during the monday meeting. knowing glances exchanged over cubicle walls when you developed a sudden, intense interest in your shoes every time jake entered a room. at first you thought nothing of it—until you overheard lisa from accounting whisper "someone's got a crush" loud enough for half the floor to hear.

today had been particularly catastrophic.

early in the morning, jake had leaned over your desk to point out a formula error, his crisp white sleeve brushing against your forearm. 

"the pivot table in this spreadsheet needs adjusting," he'd said, his voice dipping into that low, measured tone that did something inexplicable to your breathing patterns. 

and then—god help you—you'd giggled. not a polite professional chuckle, but a high- pitched, borderline hysterical sound that seemed to startle both of you. jake had frozen mid sentence, his pen hovering over the document like he wasn't sure whether to correct the numbers or call hr.

"i—sorry, sorry," you'd stammered, your face burning as you desperately tried to salvage the moment, "it's just—pivot tables are so—they're just really—" 

you'd waved your hands vaguely, as if this explained anything. jake had simply blinked, slow and deliberate like a cat observing particularly baffling prey, before continuing his explanation as if nothing had happened. which was somehow worse.

later, you'd been printing reports when jake appeared beside you—silently, like some sort of corporate vampire—reaching across you to grab a stack of documents. his forearm brushed against yours, warm and solid through the fabric of his dress shirt, and your entire nervous system short-circuited. your breath hitched audibly, your fingers spasmed on the copier lid, and for one dizzying moment you were certain you were going to either pass out or vomit directly onto the machine's control panel. 

from the way your coworkers suddenly found reasons to walk past the copier area, you weren't as subtle as you'd hoped.

"you know," maria from marketing had said later in the break room, stirring her coffee with exaggerated casualness, "if you wanted his attention, you're doing great." the grin she shot you was equal parts amused and merciless.

"that's not—i'm not—" you'd sputtered, your coffee cup trembling in your hands. "i have this thing where i just—when people are really—i mean my brain just—" your words dissolved into incoherence, which only made her smirk widen.

the worst, most embarrassing thing was the email disaster which happened at 3:17 pm on tuesday. you remembered the exact time because you'd stared at the timestamp in mute horror for a full minute after hitting send. 

you'd meant to type "i need you to look at it" regarding the quarterly report draft. what you'd actually sent to jake's inbox read: "i need you to look at me."

your blood turned to ice. for thirty full seconds, you simply sat there, fingers hovering over the keyboard like you could somehow un-send the message through sheer force of will. your first instinct was to feign a sudden illness and flee the country. your second was to claim you'd been hacked. 

in the end, you'd settled for sending a follow-up email with the subject line "CORRECTION" in all caps and the body simply reading "THE REPORT. I NEED YOU TO LOOK AT THE REPORT." you didn't explain further. you couldn't.

the afternoon meeting was where everything came to a head. you'd been doing remarkably well—keeping your gaze firmly on your notes, responding in complete sentences, even managing to contribute to the discussion without sounding like you'd suffered a recent head injury. then, as you reached for your water glass, your traitorous hand trembled just enough to send the glass tipping. water cascaded across the conference table in a shimmering wave, soaking documents, laptops, and—most horrifyingly—the front of jake's perfectly tailored trousers.

the room fell silent. your pulse roared in your ears. the water droplet sliding slowly down jake's thigh was the most obscene thing you'd ever witnessed.

"i—oh god—i'm so—" you shot to your feet, knocking your chair over in your haste. napkins appeared as if by magic from various coworkers, though none of them made a move to help, this was clearly too entertaining to interrupt. 

"i'll just—bathroom and paper towels—" you managed to choke out before fleeing the scene, your heels clicking a frantic staccato against the polished floors.

as you rounded the corner, you could have sworn you heard jake murmur something under his breath. later, you'd learn from multiple "helpful" coworkers that what he'd actually said was "she's something else," in a tone that could have been exasperated or amused or—most terrifyingly—intrigued. 

the office gossip mill had already spun this into at least three different romantic subplots by the time you returned with a wad of paper towels and the shattered remains of your dignity.

the worst part was that this was only tuesday. you had three more days of this to survive. as you sat at your desk later, staring blankly at your computer screen, you made a mental note to research whether it was possible to die from secondhand embarrassment—specifically, embarrassment generated by your own inability to function like a normal human being around your unfairly attractive boss.

things escalated in the worst possible way when jake started hovering more.

it began subtly—a coffee cup appearing on your desk when you hadn’t asked for one, the rich, bitter scent wafting up as you stared at it like it might be a trap. you’d glanced around, searching for the culprit, only to find jake already walking away, hands tucked into his pockets like he hadn’t just disrupted your entire morning with an act of kindness you weren’t equipped to handle.

then came the project updates. suddenly, he was asking for your input on things that weren’t even under your purview, leaning against the edge of your desk while you fumbled through explanations, your throat dry under the weight of his attention. 

and then things somehow got worse when he started leaning down towards you. not enough to be inappropriate, but enough that you could smell the faint, expensive cedar of his cologne, enough that his voice dropped into a low, private timbre that sent your pulse skittering. it felt deliberate. it felt like a test you were failing spectacularly.

like today.

you’d been caught staring. again. 

this time during a department meeting, your gaze drifting helplessly toward where jake sat at the head of the table, his fingers steepled under his chin, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the too-bright conference room lights. you hadn’t meant to look. or maybe you had. maybe you were a glutton for punishment, for the way your stomach swooped when his eyes flicked up and caught you, his eyebrow lifting just slightly.

"you good?" his voice was quiet, just for you, the words curling around you like smoke.

your brain short circuited. you could feel the heat creeping up your neck, your fingers tightening around your pen like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. play it cool, you begged yourself. just say something normal.

"low blood sugar," you mumbled, the lie tumbling out before you could stop it. you weren’t even sure what that meant in this context—were you implying you were dizzy? hungry? medically compromised?—but jake didn’t call you on it. he just smirked, slow and knowing, like he could see right through you.

you should’ve known then that you’d made a mistake.

because after that, snacks from him started appearing. protein bars tucked into your desk drawer. a banana left beside your keyboard with no explanation. once, horrifyingly, a lollipop—bright red and obscenely shiny—placed directly on top of your morning report. you’d stared at it for a full minute, your face burning, before stuffing it into your bag like contraband. 

you swore he watched you eat them. not obviously, not in a way you could call him out on, but in those fleeting moments when you glanced up from unwrapping a granola bar to find his gaze already on you, dark and unreadable.

it all came to a head when you thought he was out of the office.

you’d been ranting to yuna in the break room, your voice a hushed, frantic whisper as you paced in front of the microwave. 

"he keeps looking at me like i’m trying to seduce him," you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "i’m not. i just—i don’t know how to behave around him, it’s like i’m socially defective."

yuna had opened her mouth to respond—probably to laugh at you, the traitor—when a cough cut through the room.

your blood turned to ice.

jake stood in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, his expression perfectly neutral. how long had he been there? how much had he heard? your stomach dropped straight through the floor as your brain replayed your own words in brutal, high definition clarity. socially defective. oh god.

for one endless second, no one moved. then jake tilted his head—just slightly, like he was considering something—and walked away without a word.

you died a thousand deaths in that moment.

you expected things to be awkward after that. unbearable, even. but the next day, jake was... different. he smiled more—slow, deliberate smiles that made your palms sweat. he stared longer, his gaze lingering even when you ducked your head, even when you pretended not to notice. and then, over lunch—a lunch he had invited you to, a lunch you’d agreed to out of some masochistic impulse.

he leaned back in his chair and asked, casual as anything, "what kind of guy do you like?"

you choked on your drink.

your mind raced through a dozen possible responses—professional, respectful, not my boss—before settling on the dumbest possible answer. "alive," you croaked.

jake snorted, his lips quirking in a way that made your chest ache. "good start," he said, and something in his voice that sounded warm and interested, sent your heart into freefall.

the office that night was too quiet, the silence pressing on your ears and making them ring. 

you'd stayed late to finish some work, the blue light of your computer screen the only thing cutting through the dark. outside, the city hummed—car horns, distant sirens, the occasional burst of laughter from people who still had lives at this hour. your coffee had gone cold hours ago, but you kept sipping it anyway, the bitter taste matching your mood.

when the door creaked open, you didn't even look up. probably just the cleaning crew. but then you caught that scent—something expensive and faintly spicy, cutting through the stale office air. your fingers froze over the keyboard.

"still here?"

jake's voice was rougher than usual, tired around the edges. when you finally turned, he was leaning against your desk, two fresh coffees in hand. his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing those stupidly perfect forearms. his tie hung loose around his neck like he'd been yanking at it all day. he looked rumpled in a way that made your stomach do something complicated.

"uh. yeah." you swallowed, suddenly aware of how dry your throat was. "report."

he set one of the coffees down in front of you. the good stuff, from that place around the corner that charged way too much. "drink that before you pass out."

you wanted to say something clever. instead, your fingers fumbled with the lid, the plastic making an embarrassingly loud crack in the quiet office. 

jake didn't leave. just sank into the chair across from you with a quiet groan, stretching his long legs out until his shoe bumped yours. you jerked back like you'd been shocked.

for a while, the only sounds were your typing and the occasional sip of coffee. except you couldn't focus, not with him sitting there watching you. your fingers kept slipping, typing "jaje" instead of "jake" before you could stop yourself. you deleted it so fast your mouse clicked echoed.

"you're staring," he said suddenly.

you choked on your coffee. "i wasn't—"

"you were." he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "at my mouth, specifically."

your face burned. you had been. just for a second. because his lips were chapped from the cold outside, and he kept worrying at the bottom one with his teeth, and—

"am i distracting you?" his voice dropped, taking on that low, teasing quality that made your pulse jump.

"no," you lied, your voice cracking.

a beat passed and then a tiny, pathetic noise escaped you—something between a whimper and a hiccup. you wanted to die(again). 

jake's eyes darkened, his smirk turning predatory. he leaned in closer, close enough that you could see the faint stubble shadowing his jaw, close enough that his knee pressed against yours under the desk and stayed there.

"if i didn't know better," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek, "i'd say you like me, sweetheart."

your brain paused all activities and all you could manage was a strangled "jake—" that sounded more like a plea than a protest.

he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin all sharp edges. "i'm kidding."

but the way his fingers brushed yours as he took your empty coffee cup said he absolutely wasn't.

over the past few days, something subtle had shifted between you and jake without either of you acknowledging it. the nervous stuttering that used to plague your conversations had faded into something smoother, something more natural. 

the late night coffee incident had been weeks ago, but its ghost lingered in every interaction since. you'd noticed the shift—how your pulse no longer raced quite so violently when jake entered a room, how your hands remained steady when passing him files. you still noticed the way his dress shirts stretched across his shoulders when he reached for files, still caught yourself staring at his hands when he typed, but the panic those observations used to trigger had mellowed into a warm flutter low in your stomach. you could even hold his gaze for entire sentences now without feeling like your skin might catch fire. progress, you'd thought. until today.

the copy machine hummed its familiar tune as you leaned against it, listening to the new marketing associate—ethan? evan?—recount his disastrous first client meeting. 

his animated storytelling had you laughing, the sound louder than intended in the quiet office. when his hand brushed your arm in emphasis, you didn't stiffen like you would have weeks ago. which made jake's sudden appearance and grip on your elbow all the more startling.

"conference room. now." his voice carried that particular edge you'd come to recognise—the one that brooked no argument.

you barely had time to mutter an apology to not-ethan before jake was steering you down the hall, his fingers burning through your blazer sleeve. the break room door clicked shut behind you with finality. 

jake paced like a caged animal, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair until it stood in disarray.

"you and the new guy looked awfully friendly." the words came out clipped, his back turned as he pretended sudden fascination with the microwave's keypad.

you blinked. "we were just talking."

"talking." he scoffed, finally turning. the fluorescent lights caught the tension in his jaw. "is that what they're calling it now?"

the realisation dawned slowly, then all at once—the way jake's coffee deliveries always seemed to coincide with your conversations with others, how he'd suddenly taken interest in your lunch plans, the barely concealed irritation whenever someone lingered too long at your desk. your stomach swooped.

"wait." you stepped closer, watching his adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "are you... jealous?"

jake's laugh was humourless. "don't flatter yourself."

but his eyes, dark and stormy, betrayed him. you saw it then: the insecurity beneath the polished exterior, the fear that your newfound ease around him wasn't comfort earned through shared late nights and inside jokes, but because your attention had wandered.

the elevator ride down that evening was thick with tension. jake stood unnaturally still, his reflection in the metal doors betraying clenched fists and a ticking jaw. you watched the floor numbers descend, exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders.

"you think i'm playing some game," you said quietly, not quite a question.

jake's reflection met yours. "aren't you?"

the doors opened on the empty lobby. neither of you moved.

"all those blushes and stammers," he continued, voice rough. "the way you'd trip over yourself whenever i got too close. and now?" his hand shot out to stop the doors from closing. "nothing. like i've become... ordinary."

the raw vulnerability in his words stole your breath. you turned, really looking at him—the faint shadows under his eyes, the way his tie hung slightly crooked. the man beneath the polished veneer.

"jake," you breathed, stepping closer. "you could never be ordinary."

something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "prove it."

the first kiss was all collision—lips bruising, teeth clashing. you gasped as jake backed you into the wall, his hands finding your hips with a possessiveness that set your nerves alight.

"fuck," he growled against your mouth when your fingers tangled in his hair. "you have no idea how long i've—"

you cut him off with another kiss, revelling in the way his body shuddered against yours. his palms slid under your blouse, calloused fingers mapping your skin like he was committing you to memory.

"still think i was seducing you?" you managed between kisses, arching into his touch.

jake nipped at your bottom lip, drawing a whimper you'd deny later. "sweetheart," he murmured, breath hot against your skin, "you've been wrecking me since day one."

some distant part of your brain registered the security cameras, the professionalism you were shattering, the inevitable hr disaster. it was drowned out by the way jake's hands trembled as they traced your ribs, by the broken sound he made when you scraped your nails down his back.

when you finally broke apart—lips swollen, breathing ragged—jake rested his forehead against yours. his thumb traced your cheekbone with unexpected tenderness.

"we're going to get fired," you whispered, even as your fingers toyed with his belt loop.

jake's grin was all sinful promise as he stole one more kiss. "best damn termination notice i'll ever receive." (don't do this guys)

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[ambi01]

the whole scene where she thinks he is gone broke yet healed something in me. i could literally feel my heartbreaking and then healing

urs | p.sh (18+)

You weren't supposed to want more, but you did. What started as a casual fling became more complicated when you found yourself caught between your desire and the reality that Park Sunghoon's heart belonged to someone else.

Genre: college au, situationship, smut Pairing: Park Sunghoon x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), NOT PROOFREAD. I'll come back to do that when I can lol. Notes: 10k words. Listening to urs by NIKI. My first Sunghoon fic and it's written on a whim! lol. I wrote this instead of working on my overdue wip lol. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally nor claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. xoxo, cal.

Enjoy~

You first met Park Sunghoon at a frat party you had no real interest in attending. It was the first night of the semester, the music was good, the drinks were flowing, and the energy was exactly what you needed. It was the kind of night that made you feel young and invincible, where bad decisions were just part of the fun. And tonight, you were on a mission: hook up with a hot guy.

It was a promiscuous mission, you knew that. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t that kind of girl because you were! But you weren’t the reckless, messy type. No, you were the smart kind of promiscuous. The kind who could have fun without losing control. You were practical about it—always sober enough to make sound decisions, always keeping your boundaries clear. Simply put, you were the best type of promiscuous.

As a college girl with ambitions, you couldn’t afford to get tangled in romance and all that commitment nonsense. Too much work. But you had needs, and fulfilling them meant nights like this—scanning the crowd for a guy who could tickle your fancy, no strings attached.

That was how you spotted him.

Tall, handsome, but oddly out of place. While the rest of the party thrived on the chaos, he stood by himself in a corner. He had a cup in his hand, but it wasn’t like he was enjoying it. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else—his posture slouched just enough to suggest he wasn’t a part of this. He had that bored, almost irritable look on his face, the kind that made you wonder if he was only here because someone dragged him along.

You were not the type to hesitate, so you didn’t. You’d done this enough times to know exactly what you were after, and right now? You were after him.

“Is this your first frat party, or are you just too cool for it?” you asked, leaning in just enough to get his attention.

He glanced at you, his eyes flicking over your face for a second before landing on your lips, then back up to your eyes. Up close, he was even more good-looking—long lashes, sharp features, lips that curled just slightly at the corners like he was already amused by you, and a couple of beauty marks on his face that made him even more striking.

He was definitely your type.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” you added, taking a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact.

“That obvious?” he asked, his voice low, almost melodic.

You smirked, liking the way his voice was as perfect as his looks. “You look miserable,” you pointed out, still grinning.

He chuckled lightly, amused but not exactly thrilled. “What about you? Having fun?”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t. But right now, I think I might be…” You let your gaze wander, deliberately slow, from his face to the exposed skin of his chest where a few buttons were undone.

Sunghoon smirked, his gaze trailing over you in a way that was appreciative without being too obvious. “Well, that makes two of us,” he replied suggestively.

He flirted right back!

“I’m Sunghoon,” he said, offering his hand for a shake. You took it and gave him your name.

Your eyes locked with his—now more curious, sizing him up. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you staring each other down, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts with your hands still joined. Then you saw a flicker in his eyes that made you come to an agreement with your own intuition.

You tilted your head, eyes still locked with his. “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

His eyes widened slightly, his brows lifting in surprise—visibly caught off guard by your suggestion. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn’t let go completely. You kept your gaze steady, showing no hesitation and letting him know you were serious. A few seconds of silence passed where you almost thought he’d say no, but then he exhaled a soft laugh.

“Are you always this forward?” he asked, amused now.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Only when I see someone I like.”

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you like me?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.”

With that, his smirk widened, and before you could second-guess yourself, he set his cup down. “My place or yours?”

And just like that, you were out of the party and heading to whatever the hell came next. No strings, no pressure. Just the way you liked it.

You didn’t know it then, but that was when the tsunami that would come crashing in began to take shape.

You didn’t mean for it to happen again. It was supposed to be a one-time thing—fun, uncomplicated. But he was phenomenal, so it happened a second time. And a third. And eventually, you just lost count.

Maybe it was because, other than the fact that he was really good at it, he was also easy to be around. He wasn’t like the others—the ones who got clingy after a night or acted like they were doing you a favor by sleeping with you. Sunghoon was different. He never overstayed his welcome, never asked for more than you were willing to give, but he wasn’t distant either. If anything, he was… nice.

Not in a fake, trying-too-hard way. Just nice. Made you feel comfortable, always made sure you finished before he did, and never left without saying something witty that made you roll your eyes. He had this way of being detached but not cold, like he had mastered the art of keeping things casual without being an asshole.

“You know,” you mused, sprawled across his bed, still catching your breath, “my first impression of you was that you were boring and miserable. Turns out you know how to make a girl have fun.”

Standing by his closet, Sunghoon threw you an amused glance as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head. “Yeah? I aim to please.”

You smirked. “That sounds like something a guy who thinks he’s good in bed would say.”

He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, looking almost too put-together for someone who had just spent an hour between your legs. “And? Am I not?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. You’re alright.”

He scoffed, tossing a pillow at you, which you barely dodged. “You’re a bad liar.”

You grinned, stretching lazily. “Well, I can’t have you getting a big head, can I?”

Sunghoon shook his head, his lips curling into that infuriatingly charming smirk. “Too late for that.”

It was easy. Too easy. Maybe that’s why you let it keep happening.

Behind closed doors, there was no restraint. It didn’t matter if it was your place or his—once the door was closed, your hands were on his neck, his lips found your skin, and clothes barely made it past the foyer before being discarded.

Sunghoon was incredible in bed. He was controlled, precise, yet somehow still desperate when he kissed you, when he pressed you against the mattress, when he groaned your name like it was the only thing keeping him from spiraling. And you? You had mastered the art of making him unravel.

You knew exactly what made him weak, how to turn his composure into incoherence, how to make him grip your waist a little harder or breathe your name in a way that made your stomach flip. It was exhilarating, effortless—two people who just fit perfectly when it came to this.

But outside? You were mere acquaintances.

A nod in the hallway. A fleeting smile across the quad. If you happened to pass each other at a party, he’d tip his cup in your direction, and you’d lift a brow in acknowledgment. No one knew. No one suspected a thing. And you liked it better that way. You were both civil and could control your urges.

Except for when you couldn’t.

Like now.

You were leaving class when Sunghoon caught your wrist, pulling you into an empty lecture hall.

“What—”

He kissed you before you could finish, his hands already gripping your hips, pressing you against the nearest desk. The kiss was hot, urgent, like he had been holding back all day.

“Wow, I think you missed me a little,” you teased when he finally pulled away, breathless.

Sunghoon scoffed, but his fingers traced the sleeve of your dress like he wasn’t done with you yet. “You should wear this more often.”

You smirked. “What? Hoon, you did not pull me in here just because I’m wearing a dress.”

“It’s a really nice dress,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck. His hand slipped under your dress, squeezing your thighs firmly. When the familiar warmth started creeping up your chest, you held his hand to stop him.

“This is not a good idea,” you told him, smiling at the puppy-like look on his face.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he regretted his own impulse. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then you heard the sound of voices just outside the door.

In an instant, Sunghoon stepped back, running a hand through his hair like nothing had happened. You casually adjusted your dress. When the door creaked open, and a couple of students poked their heads in, you and Sunghoon were already on opposite sides of the room.

“Is this Professor Smith’s class?” one of them asked just as you spotted the same name written on the board in front.

“It is,” you said smoothly, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you strode past Sunghoon without so much as a glance.

Outside, in the open air, you felt his presence behind you, his steps easy and unhurried. As you reached the main path to the quad, he finally passed you, his shoulder brushing yours just slightly.

“See you around,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

You smirked, not looking back. “See you around.”

But even with all of that, you could tell he was drawing a line between you. He didn’t have to say it. You could see it in the way he never texted first, the way he kissed you like he meant it but pulled away too quickly after. The way he made you laugh but never let the moment linger too long.

And maybe you should have done the same.

You didn’t mean to fall for him. You really didn’t. But it was hard not to when, in between the sneaking around and the mind-blowing sex, Sunghoon was just... Sunghoon. Nice and thoughtful in a way that made it almost impossible to keep things casual.

Like when the lightbulb in your room went out, and he arrived at your place with a new one, climbed on a chair, and replaced it himself.

“I was gonna do that, you know,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall, watching him screw the new bulb into place. “I’m just a little busy these days.”

He climbed down, dusting his hands off. “Yeah, but can you even reach that high?”

You rolled your eyes, but when he patted your head like you were some kid, you didn’t swat his hand away. Instead, you found yourself watching him as he moved around your space so easily.

Or the way he always refilled your bedside tumbler before he left your place. You didn’t even notice it at first, but one morning, you woke up, throat dry, and reached for it instinctively—only to realize it was full. Ice-cold. Like he had just topped it off before slipping out.

And then there was the night you were cramming for an exam, drowning in highlighter ink and frustration, when your door swung open, and Sunghoon walked in like he owned the place.

“I’m about to become your favorite person in the world,” he announced, dropping a thick stack of papers on your desk.

You blinked up at him. “What is this?”

“My old notes,” he said, ruffling your hair before plopping onto your bed like he had all the time in the world. “They’re neat. Better than whatever middle school doodles you have going on.”

You flipped through them, and he wasn’t lying—his notes were immaculate. Organized, highlighted, complete with diagrams. You stared at them, then at him, sprawled out on your bed like he had no idea what he’d just done.

“You didn’t strike me as a guy who took his studies seriously,” you teased, although you didn’t really think that way about him.

Sunghoon smirked, turning his head to look at you. “Why? Did you think the only thing I knew how to do was make your legs shake?”

You rolled your eyes, but it didn’t stop the warmth creeping up your chest. “Be real, Hoon. You’re not that good.”

“Liar liar, pants on fire,” he lilted, his eyes shifting back to his phone.

You fell for him because hookups weren’t supposed to be this thoughtful. Hookups weren’t supposed to linger after sex to fix your lightbulb or make sure you stayed hydrated. They weren’t supposed to look after you in ways so small, so casual, that you almost missed them.

You caught yourself wondering. Did he care about you more than just a hookup? Or worse—did you want him to?

You were at a café with your friends when his name came up. 

It started casually enough—half-listening to the conversation while stirring the melting ice in your drink, until one of them, Lily, suddenly said, “Oh, by the way, I saw Sunghoon at your apartment complex the other day. Didn’t know you guys were neighbors.”

Your hand stilled, heartbeat picking up pace at the sudden mention of his name. You blinked once, twice, before mustering up an easy shrug. “Huh. Neither did I.”

Lily laughed, oblivious. “Right? He was coming out of your building. I was gonna say hi, but he looked like he was in a hurry.”

Across the table, Tammy tilted her head. “Maybe he was visiting someone? From what I know, he lives with Jake in a different neighborhood.”

“Maybe,” Lily mused, sipping her drink. Then, as if the thought just occurred to her, she added, “Oh! You and Jenna are neighbors, right?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know any Jenna.”

“Jenna! The girl who won the poll for prettiest student last year!” she explained, her expression turning conspiratorial. “She’s Sunghoon’s ex.”

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

Lily went on, oblivious. “Guess he’s still hoping she’ll take him back.”

The words landed like a slap. You almost asked her to repeat herself, but the way Tammy nodded in understanding told you that you heard right.

“Yeah,” Tammy said. “They were together for two years. I heard he was really sad when they broke up.”

Lily clicked her tongue. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did get back together. They were that couple, you know?”

That couple. The ones who belonged together. The ones who had history, real history—not just stolen moments behind closed doors.

You swallowed, forcing a small smirk. “Didn’t know you guys were keeping up with Sunghoon’s love life like this.”

Lily nodded. “Jenna and I used to hang out when I was still in the council.”

Then she started rambling about their history, how Jenna broke Sunghoon’s heart, how he never really moved on. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but your mind was stuck on every moment you spent with him. The way he pulled you closer in his sleep, how he never let you walk home alone, the way he looked at you sometimes—like maybe you were something more special to him.

But you weren’t. You weren’t the one he wanted. You never were. And just like that, the guessing game was over.

He didn’t want you like you wanted him. You were genuinely just a fling.

Still, you smiled, made some joke that had your friends laughing, and sipped your drink like nothing was wrong. Like your stomach hadn’t just dropped to the floor.

Later, when you saw Sunghoon again—when he let himself into your apartment with that lazy smirk, hands already reaching for you—you didn’t hesitate. You let him touch you, let him kiss you like nothing had changed.

Because for him, nothing had.

And if he didn’t know the difference or couldn’t see the shift, then you sure as hell weren’t going to show him.

Does it make sense to want your ex back and exclusively sleep with someone else? NO.

It was stupid. Sunghoon was stupid. That was what you told yourself every time the thought crossed your mind—every time you caught yourself comparing.

You never voiced it out loud, though. Not to your friends, because Sunghoon was popular, and they’d pry if they knew you were sleeping with him. Not to him, for obvious reasons. And mainly because you had pride. You were the one who said you wouldn’t get attached—the one who laughed at girls who caught feelings for a fling.

But knowing better didn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in.

His ex was his senior, a fine arts major. Pretty. Smart. Talented. One of those girls who just had it. The kind people didn’t get over easily. You told yourself it didn’t matter. If he wanted her back, that was his problem, not yours. It wasn’t like you and Sunghoon were anything.

And so the days with him continued to be easy and light.

You spent more time together, and the more you did, the more you noticed his quirks—his own brand of annoying charm. Like how he always picked up your keys instead of his whenever he left your apartment, or how he liked to roll his sleeves and ruffle his hair absentmindedly.

One evening, lying side by side on your bed, you scrolled through your texts, absentmindedly opening your chat with him. A dozen images filled the screen, almost all of them mirror selfies. Some in elevators, some in his room, one even in a convenience store.

“You like yourself a little too much, don’t you?” you mused, tilting your phone so he could see.

Sunghoon barely glanced at it. “What?”

“These,” you said, scrolling through. “Almost every picture you send me is just you.”

He smirked, resting his head on his arm. “What, you don’t like them?”

You huffed. “You’re hot and you know it, is that it?”

He let out a breathy laugh, rolling onto his side to face you. The glint in his eyes was naughty and suggestive. His next words, even more so: “Would you rather I send you something else?”

He was looking at you like he knew exactly what he was doing, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand.

“Maybe,” you said, feigning deep thought. “Like a cat picture. Or, I don’t know, an interesting rock.”

Sunghoon snorted. “An interesting rock?”

“I like rocks.”

“You’re weird.”

“And you’re a narcissist.”

He only grinned, as if he didn’t mind the label. You shook your head, rolling onto your stomach, but your lips twitched when your phone vibrated a second later.

A picture. Of a rock.

You bit back a smile, and Sunghoon, watching you, caught it anyway.

“What?” he asked, amused.

“Nothing,” you said, tossing your phone aside.

You had never once felt insecure about what you had with Sunghoon, but after what you heard from your friends, you started to notice the little things. It almost seemed like outside the four walls of your apartments, you were nothing to each other.

You used to think he was just a lazy texter. His replies were always short, sometimes delayed, sometimes just emojis. But knowing what you knew now, you wondered if he just wasn’t interested enough.

The thought crept under your skin, making you overthink the things you once brushed off.

Before, when you texted him to come over and he said he couldn’t, you didn’t think much of it. But now? Now, you wondered if he was with her when he wasn’t with you. If he looked at his phone, saw your message, and made a choice.

Yet, you kept crawling back for more.

You were an intelligent woman. You knew this was foolish. You knew how it made you look. But it was fine, because no one else knew how you felt—not your friends, not even Sunghoon himself. It was fine because you were foolish only in your own eyes. There was no need for anyone else to know.

Despite the foolishness of it all, you were happy. You were content enough to be able to spend time with him, to be touched and worshipped by him, to know you had the power to tease out a part of him that not everyone had the privilege to see.

“Sunghoon,” you sighed, fingers pressed against your temple as you looked out of the car window. “We’ve been circling this block for ten minutes.”

You had tagged along with Sunghoon on a quick trip to pick up some pieces for his department’s upcoming art exhibit. It was unplanned. You were outside the campus after class when he spotted you and asked if you wanted to join him. Since you didn’t have anything planned for the day (and because you could never say no to a chance to hang out with him), you got into his car and let him drive without even asking where you were going.

But Sunghoon, as it turned out, had a terrible sense of direction.

“I swear it was supposed to be around here,” he muttered, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping aimlessly at his phone.

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

He shot you a glance, sheepish. “Well, I meant it twenty minutes ago.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your seat, stretching your legs. The map app on his dashboard kept recalculating, rerouting him to roads that either didn’t exist or led straight to nowhere. And when he finally admitted defeat, pulling over to rethink his next move, you both stepped out and realized something.

The ocean was right there.

Waves lapped lazily at the shore, the sky was clear, and the sun was warm but not overbearing—the kind of day that practically begged to be wasted at the beach.

“…Screw the errand?” you offered.

Sunghoon stared at the water for a moment before shrugging. “Screw the errand.”

And just like that, the detour became the destination.

The day unfolded spontaneously. You bought overpriced street food from a vendor by the shore, eating as you walked, laughing when Sunghoon scrunched his nose at the spicy kick of the sauce. He had an annoyingly specific taste in food and the smell, but he still let you shove a piece of yours into his mouth.

You found a little souvenir stand and tried on ridiculous sunglasses, taking pictures of each other in frames shaped like hearts and palm trees. Sunghoon snapped candid shots of you when you weren’t looking, and though you pretended to be annoyed, you never asked him to stop.

At some point, the tide crept in, and you played a round of rock, paper, scissors and dared the loser to get into the water. You weren’t even surprised when you lost. You sucked at this game.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you grumbled, kicking your sandals off. “By myself, no less.”

“Hey, it’s a game. We both agreed to this,” he retorted, stepping back. “And I can’t go in there. I’m wearing jeans.”

“And I’m wearing a skirt,” you countered, already wading in, your hem darkening as the waves reached you.

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, probably wondering if you were actually sulking over a punishment you’d happily agreed to before you lost the game. Of course, you weren’t, but it was fun to tease him and see what he’d do.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said after the scowl never left your face. In a moment of impulsive surrender, he walked straight in after you, the water soaking up his pants. You’re actually unbelievable,” he added, shaking his head as the chill hit him.

You grinned triumphantly, making him brush his hair back in playful exasperation. Then, shaking his head in defeat, he said, “I knew it. It was a farce. You knew I was gonna give in!”

“You fell for it,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t blame me,” you added, flicking water at him.

Sunghoon blinked at you, unimpressed, before flicking some back with just the tips of his fingers.

“Oh, come on,” you taunted. “Is that the best you can do?”

His eyes narrowed slightly—just enough of a warning before he sent a full splash your way, drenching your arms. You gasped, stumbling back with a laugh.

“Oh? So that’s how it’s gonna be?” you shot back, scooping up water with both hands and throwing it right at his chest.

He retaliated, sending another wave toward you, and suddenly it was war. One splash turned into another, then another, until you were both breathless, clothes sticking to your skin, hair a mess.

Sunghoon pushed his dripping bangs back with a huff. “This is your fault,” he said, smiling his usual warm and blinding smile—the smile that made his eyes crinkle, the smile that revealed dimples carving deep into his cheeks, the smile that could make anyone think Sunghoon had never forced a grin in his life.

He was beautiful, and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper, with no way out. You were falling so deep that it made your heart ache a little—the way you liked him, the way you wanted him to be yours, the way you wished today could last forever.

As the sky started to turn amber, you collapsed onto the sand, watching the sun lower itself into the horizon.

The waves rolled in, steady and endless, curling at the shore. The air smelled of salt, and the golden glow of the sunset painted the world majestically. You sat side by side, talking and laughing about random things, content to share the warmth of a single jacket.

Then, somewhere between the soothing sound of the waves and the silly jokes, the conversation drifted deeper.

You talked about things you never had before—about college, about dreams and ambitions, about the way people always say you’ll just know when something is right.

“How do you know for sure that that’s what you wanted to pursue?” he asked while you were tracing idle patterns in the sand. “What if you think you know, but when you get to the end of it, you realize it was the wrong choice?”

You looked out into the ocean, tilting your head slightly, considering. “I didn’t really know it was the right choice. I don’t think anyone ever really knows,” you admitted. “Not in the moment, at least. Maybe you just choose something, and later, that choice becomes the right one.”

You turned to look at him only to find out he already had his eyes on you. The admiration in his gaze was subtle, but it was there. Seeing that made your heart trip over itself, it made you forget, for just a second, that this wasn’t real.

And when he leaned in, when his eyes flickered to your lips and your breath caught, you stopped thinking. You knew what was coming. You knew he was about to kiss you, but somehow, for some reason, this time felt different. Like this kiss was gonna determine a major point in your relationship.

But before anything could happen, Sunghoon’s phone rang, jolting you both out of the trance. You both looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat like you’d caught yourself doing something you shouldn’t. Which was ridiculous because you’d done nothing but kiss him in the past few months.

Sunghoon cleared his throat as he picked up his phone on the sand then answered the call with a quiet, “Yeah?”

It was the committee for the exhibit and you watched him talk on the phone for the next few minutes, explaining what had happened and why he couldn’t finish the errand. By the time he hung up, the sky had darkened completely, and the air had turned crisp.

“It’s late,” he said, brushing sand off his hands. “You okay with crashing at my place?”

You blinked. “Your place?”

“Our old family house. It’s not far from here.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged. “Sure.”

The car ride was quiet, thick with the tension that had been ignited by the near-kiss at the beach. Neither of you spoke, but your gazes met every now and then—quick glances, fleeting and heated, before darting away like you hadn’t been caught.

Sunghoon was the first to break. His hand drifted from the wheel, finding your thigh in the dim glow of the dashboard, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. He squeezed, testing, and when you didn’t stop him, he grew bolder, pushing the hem of your dress up just enough to feel the warmth of your skin. His fingers traced your skin with slow, deliberate strokes, inching higher into your inner thighs and lightly brushing your sex.

The heat of his touch burned through you. While you sat there feeling hotter as your heartbeat hammered wildly in your chest, he remained composed and quiet, his face unreadable save for the occasional twitch of his jaw. He kept his eyes on the road, but the way the car gradually picked up speed as he stepped harder on the gas told you everything you needed to know.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter until the car rolled to a stop in their driveway. He exhaled sharply, as if regaining control of himself before stepping out and opening the door for you like nothing was out of the ordinary. 

The lock to their house’s main entrance clicked, the door creaked open, and the second you stepped inside, all restraints snapped.

You barely had a moment to take in the house before his hands were on you, pulling you in, mouths crashing in a kiss that was desperate, needy, and greedy. He backed you into the foyer, hands mapping the curve of your waist, and the shape of your hips.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling, tugging, holding on for dear life as the heat of his touch woke something primal in you. He barely broke the kiss as he guided you further inside, not caring where you ended up as long as you got there together. You went past the foyer and the living room, but all you felt was the press of his body, the way he kissed you with the kind of hunger that made your head spin.

He pushed a door open, urging you inside but you hesitated, pulse hammering.

“Sunghoon,” you breathed between kisses, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “Your parents—”

“They’re not home.” His voice was low, steady, but his eyes burned through yours.

You barely had a second to process before he kissed you again, silencing every last doubt as he pushed you inside the door he had just opened. When he clicked the lights on, the glow of a bathroom light flickered on, reflecting off the tiles and the mirror above the sink.

“Figured you’d hate the taste of the sea on my skin,” he murmured, grinning as his fingers grazed your hip. You were suddenly reminded of the saltwater clinging to your skin, and the sand on your legs, remnants of the day you’d spent together.

You swallowed, nodding. But the moment he lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, you knew washing up wasn’t gonna be the only thing happening in here. 

You shamelessly ogled him—his bare skin, damp from sweat and seawater, and his lean build with well-defined muscles that you’d seen several times before but still found alluring. He caught you staring and smirked, stepping closer, close enough that his fingers found the buttons of your top.

“Did you know I’m good with buttons?” he asked softly, making you giggle.

“Yeah. I’ve seen your skills,” you said, watching him.

His fingers were deft, undoing your buttons slowly, teasingly. When he was done, he gently tugged it off, letting it fall on the floor. His hands didn’t leave you, though. They skimmed down your arms, and your waist, examining every curve like he had it memorized and wanted to see if anything was different.

The next thing you knew, warm water was cascading over your bodies, steam enveloping you in the small space. The spray soaked your hair, trailing down your spine, but you barely noticed because Sunghoon was there—his hands smoothing over your skin, his lips brushing against your shoulder, your jaw, his canines grazing your skin ever so slightly.

“We’re supposed to be washing up,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

“We are,” he murmured, his fingers sliding down your stomach, inching lower. “Just making sure we’re doing it thoroughly.”

You let out a quiet laugh, but it faded into a sigh when he pressed you back against the cool tiles, his mouth finding yours again. He didn’t stay for long, lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, all the way to your chest where his kisses turned a little more intense. He sucked and squeezed, sending a pleasant ripple through your body that made you arch forward for more. The water drowned out the sound of your quiet moans, the warmth of his mouth making every touch feel more heady, more intoxicating.

When did he take off his pants? You didn’t even notice until he pressed his body against yours and you felt his manhood pulsating against your torso, hot and raging. He kissed your lips again, shoving his tongue inside as his breathing turned rougher.

“Turn around,” he rasped in your ear, and you obliged, finding yourself face-to-face with your own reflection.

You pressed your hands against the glass, your entire body tingling with anticipation as he positioned himself behind you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your neck as you felt his tip prodding your pussy.

“Look at you,” he whispered, biting your ear. “Do you have any idea how you drive me crazy all the damn time?”

You were about to respond when he pushed himself inside you, making you let out a throaty gasp instead. Sunghoon stayed still, shushing you gently and kissing your shoulder.

“It’s alright. We’ve done this before,” he chimed and you could see him smirking in your reflection. 

“You’re used to this, right?” he asked, moving delicately so you could properly adjust to his length and girth. “Right, baby?” he asked again, and the lilt in his voice made you close your eyes and nod.

“That’s right. You said you love it, didn’t you?” 

You could only let out a deep sigh, tilting your head back. “Yes, Hoon. I love it,” you whispered back.

“Good. I know you do,” he chimed, gently bending you forward. “I know you’ll love this too,” he added before his hands settled on your waist and he started thrusting into you.

His pace was urgent, with enough force to make your knees weak each time he slammed into you. You didn’t even bother to stifle your moans anymore, letting them out completely, not caring if there were neighbors nearby who might hear you. You were lightheaded with lust, spiraling into the titillating euphoria that Sunghoon never once failed to deliver. Your entire being came alive and you were so caught up in it that you didn’t even notice your knees buckling underneath your weight.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened as he helped keep you up, pulling out to give you a quick break and to turn you face-to-face with him again. His grin was unmistakable, pleased to see your fucked-out expression. “So so beautiful,” he said, sweeping your hair out of your face.

He pressed you against the cool tiles, his lips crashing onto yours, urgency overtaking everything else. You gasped when his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you against him. The water poured over his shoulders, down your back, as he moved with reckless need, his breath ragged against your ear. 

“More, Hoon. Please, more,” you pleaded, as if he wasn’t already ramming mercilessly into you making every nerve in your body dance in pleasure.

“You’re so horny for me,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers gripping your thighs as he lifted you against him. “Can’t even wait till we got to the bed, huh?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed into you, the heat of the shower only amplifying the sensation. “This was your idea,” you whispered, but it came out shaky, wrecked.

He chuckled, low and deep. “I know. But you want this too, don’t you?” he said, voice smooth as his lips traced down your throat. “You want me so bad. You’re begging me for more, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t answer—not in words, at least. But when you tightened your grip around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin, he took it as confirmation.

“That’s it,” he groaned, rolling his hips into yours. “Come on, baby. Let me hear you.”

You whimpered when he hit a delicious spot, holding onto him tighter. “Hoon, you fuck so good.”

He grunted, spurred on by your admission. He was fast, desperate—like he couldn’t get enough, like he had to claim every inch of you right then and there. When he finally tipped over the edge, dragging you down with him, he held you through it, his lips pressing on your temple as your body trembled in his arms.

The moment was fleeting, but the desire didn’t leave just yet. You could still feel it in his touch even as he set you back on your feet. The moment you stepped out of the shower, Sunghoon grabbed a towel, barely bothering to dry you properly before he lifted you off your feet, carrying you out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and into what you only assumed was his bedroom.

This time, there was no rush.

He laid you down, his hands smoothing over your skin, his touch softer now, more reverent. “Look at you,” he murmured, eyes tracing over every inch of you, dark with something more than just lust. “So pretty. So perfect for me.”

Your breath came uneven as he leaned down, pressing slow, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down your chest, lower—each one dragging a gasp from your lips.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered against your skin.

“You,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah?” He kissed the corner of your mouth, teasing. “Then take me,” he added, just before he filled you up again.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent, or desperate. It was slow, deep, and overwhelming in the most delightful way. He kept his forehead pressed to yours, breath warm against your face, whispering in between kisses.

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” he murmured, moving languidly. “You feel so good. You’re taking me so well.”

Every whispered praise sent shivers down your spine, made you cling to him even tighter, and made the pleasure build until it was unbearable.

The night was young and it was not gonna end just yet. And so the hours blurred into moments of euphoric highs, fleeting clarity, and intense need to ravage and be ravaged. His name was the only thing you could say—over and over—until you were both left breathless, tangled together in the sheets, completely undone.

In the morning, you probably wouldn’t remember every detail of tonight, but you’d remember this—remember the way his hands felt on your skin, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. In the dim glow of Sunghoon’s bedroom, your fingers tangled in his damp hair, lips swollen from too many kisses, you let yourself forget. Forget the rules. Forget that this was never supposed to feel like more. Just for tonight, he was yours, and you were his.

The morning light streamed in through the sheer curtains, hurting your eyes a little. You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented, until the scent of Sunghoon’s shampoo on your skin and the warmth of the bed beneath you reminded you where you were.

You turned over to find him already awake, his arm tucked behind his head as he looked at you with a lazy smile. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

His fingers skimmed down your arm. “You’re cute when you sleep.”

A slow blink. Then, a scoff. “Liar.”

“It’s true.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as his gaze flickered down to your lips. “You drool a little, though.”

You smacked his arm. “I do not.”

His laughter was low and teasing, as he caught your wrist then tugged you closer. His body was warm against yours, and his breath was even warmer as he kissed the curve of your neck.

“We should get up,” you said, but neither of you moved.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his soft kisses trailing down to your shoulder. “In a bit,” he added before reaching to cup your cheek and kiss your lips.

One thing led to another and suddenly, you were underneath him again, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t bear to be apart.

The morning air was cool, but his hands were warm as they skimmed down your waist, his touch slow, and smooth. 

“You’re insatiable,” he murmured against your lips, smiling when you shivered under him.

“So are you,” you whispered back, running your fingers through his hair.

He hummed, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. “Guess we’re even, then.”

His hands slid over your bare skin, his touch reverent. He kissed you deeply, guiding you through the lazy tangle of limbs and soft gasps, dragging it out like he had all the time in the world.

By the time you finally got out of bed, Sunghoon had already dug through his closet, tossing you an old hoodie and some sweatpants. You pulled them on and followed him down the quiet hallway.

The house felt still—too still. Only then did you notice the dust gathering on the bookshelves, the faint scent of time in the air.

“This place has been empty for a while now,” Sunghoon said casually from behind you when he noticed you looking around. “My family moved a few months ago to take care of my grandparents.”

Your brows lifted. “So no one lives here?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I come by sometimes. I technically still live here, I'm just not here often.”

That made sense. There was something about the house—it felt untouched, frozen in time, like stepping into a memory. You walked further into the hall, your fingers grazing along the walls and stopping at the framed photographs hanging there.

You studied them, tilting your head. Sunghoon as a kid, bright-eyed and grinning, a missing tooth on full display. A younger version of him on a skating rink, mid-game, frozen in motion. Another picture—him and his family, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, and several of him in a skating rink, different poses, taken in the middle of a routine.

“You skate?”

Sunghoon smiled, standing beside you and looking up at the photos. “Used to. I was in the national team for a while.”

“Why did you stop?” you asked glancing up at him and seeing the reminiscent look on his face.

He simply shrugged. “I had to be realistic. I enjoyed the sport but I couldn’t see myself doing it for a long time.”

You bit back a smile. “You were kind of adorable.”

Sunghoon scoffed, stepping up behind you. “I still am.”

“Debatable.”

He tugged at your hoodie—his hoodie—pulling the hood over your head before nodding toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”

The drive back to the city was uneventful, the radio playing softly in the background. Sunghoon’s hand rested on the wheel, his other lazily draped over your thigh, tracing absentminded patterns through the fabric of his sweatpants that you were still wearing. You were talking, laughing, stealing quick glances at him between songs on the stereo.

At some point, he cleared his throat. “So… what are you doing later?”

“I have a group project.” You groaned, leaning back against the seat. “I’m meeting up with my classmates later.”

“Right. Group project.” He nodded slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Sounds boring.”

“It is,” you huffed. “Why’d you ask?”

“No reason.” His eyes stayed fixed on the road, but you caught the way his grip on the wheel tightened just slightly. A second passed before he spoke again, this time even more nonchalant. “What about tomorrow?”

You tilted your head. “Tomorrow? I’m not sure. Just classes, I think.” You turned to him, raising a brow. “Why?”

“Do you wanna grab lunch with me tomorrow?”

You stared at him for a moment, then grinned teasingly. “Are you asking me out on a date, Park Sunghoon?”

His ears turned the faintest shade of pink, but he scoffed like the idea was ridiculous. “I’m just saying we should get lunch.”

“Mmm.” You pretended to think. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“It’s not a date.”

You scoffed in playful exasperation. “Dude, I was naked on top of you last night and a couple of other nights before. Surely we’re way past shy invitations for lunch dates?”

“I’m asking you to eat.” He paused, then added with a tilt of his head, “But if you wanna call it a date, that’s fine too. Labels are overrated.”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Hm. I guess I’ll allow it.”

Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Good. It’s settled then,” he said, stopping at a red light.

He leaned over to kiss you, catching you off guard but only for a moment. You kissed him back, albeit a little confused. When he pulled away, he was wearing a proud smirk on his face and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he asked, shifting the gear as the light turned green again. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it to his lips.

One hour later, you reached your apartment complex, but had to you stay a few more minutes in his car because he couldn’t seem to get enough of you, kissing and touching right there in the parking lot. You had to forcefully push him away and remind him that you had classes and important stuff to attend to. Even then, he was reluctant to let you go.

After a dramatic goodbye that had him pouting as he drove away, you climbed up the building with a sickening grin on your face. You unlocked your door, stepping inside with a lightness in your chest, breathing in the familiar smell of your home. 

The past few days had been a rollercoaster for you, with all the guessing and expectations and disappointments. But now, you were feeling much lighter, much happier. The good days with Sunghoon were all you could think of, playing back in flashes—the sound of his laugh in your space, the weight of his arm over your waist in the morning, the smell of his skin at night, the way he always left the bathroom mirror fogged up because he took ridiculously hot showers.

Tossing your bag onto the couch, you leaned against the door for a moment, smiling to yourself. Sunghoon was nice, but he always drew an invisible line. Not this time. You could tell by the way he held you this morning, the way he was reluctant to part from you, and how he’d asked to hang out with you for lunch—outside, in public. It felt like, for once, you both wanted the same thing. No second-guessing, no mixed signals—you were finally moving the same direction.

Your gaze drifted to the hoodie he’d left draped over the chair, his specs on your nightstand, and the half-empty tumbler beside it—subtle proofs that he’d started leaving pieces of himself behind. You wondered if he even realized it.

And more than that, you wondered where this would go next.

The next morning, you woke up too early. Way too early.

You groaned into your pillow, rolling onto your back as you stared at the ceiling. It was ridiculous. You’d seen Sunghoon plenty of times before—hung out, spent nights together, and shared more than just passing glances. But the idea of today, of a proper lunch date, had you wide awake before the sun was even fully up. Maybe it was because, for once, you weren’t just meeting up in the comfort of your apartment or his. It would be something different. Something real.

You giggled at the thought, covering your face with your blanket and then flailing your arms and legs. 

Admitting that to yourself felt embarrassing, so you dragged yourself out of bed and decided to be productive. If you were going to be up this early, you might as well make the most of it.

A jog around the neighborhood. A quick stop at the store. And before you knew it, you were back in your apartment, unpacking groceries and deciding, on a whim, to actually cook breakfast. When was the last time you did that? You couldn’t even remember.

By the time you arrived on campus, you were still riding the high of a morning well-spent. Your good mood didn’t go unnoticed—your friends picked up on it immediately, teasing you about the extra bounce in your step. You brushed them off with the excuse of getting enough sleep, but they weren’t wrong. Everything just felt lighter today.

Even classes didn’t seem so unbearable. You participated. You took notes. You weren’t counting down the minutes to leave—well, not exactly. But the closer lunchtime got, the more restless you became, checking your phone every so often even though you knew you were the only one keeping track of time this obsessively.

Then, just as you were leaving your last morning class, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon: Hey pretty. Something came up. I can’t do lunch today. I’m sorry. Sunghoon: I’ll make it up to you later tonight, okay?

Your steps slowed, but you kept moving, staring at the text longer than necessary.

Bummed. That was the best way to describe it. You weren’t mad—plans get canceled all the time, and at least he let you know ahead of time—but disappointment still settled in the pit of your stomach. You took a breath, shook it off, and responded with a simple, It’s fine. See you later.

Lunch with your friends helped a little. You laughed, caught up on random gossip, and even let them drag you to a café afterward. You weren’t dwelling on it. Really, you weren’t.

Until you stepped out of the café and saw him. Sunghoon, standing outside the campus gates. And he wasn’t alone. 

Jenna was with him.

You stopped in your tracks, heart lurching in a way you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t just that he was there, but the way he was standing close to her, the way she was talking, nudging his arm like she had every right to be in his space.

Sunghoon must have felt someone staring at him because he glanced your way and saw you. His eyes brightened in recognition, and he greeted you casually, like nothing was out of the ordinary. But you didn’t even know how to react. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. You walked past him, barely sparing a glance, pretending as if you weren’t close. As if he was just someone you barely knew.

Your friends who saw that were confused, following behind you after quick greetings to both Sunghoon and Jenna. 

Tammy caught up to you, nudged your arm, and asked, “Where are you running off to after ignoring Sunghoon like that?”

“I wasn’t ignoring anyone,” you muttered.

“You totally were,” Lily chimed in, linking arms with you as she leaned to speak in a quieter voice. “That’s so fishy. What’s going on?”

You didn’t respond, your mind too muddled to even try and come up with a good answer. As you rounded the corner, your phone buzzed a second later.

Sunghoon: Hey. What was that?

You ignored it, as well as the other messages that followed. 

The rest of the afternoon slipped through your fingers in a haze of self-pity. You curled up on the couch, aimlessly flipping through movies, but nothing got your attention. The voices blurred together, scenes passed without meaning. You weren’t devastated. You weren’t heartbroken. You were just... mad. Annoyed that after everything, after how good things had been, this was what it came down to. But getting worked up wouldn’t do anything. So, you forced yourself to let it go. 

Or at least, you tried. It was impossible when he kept creeping into your thoughts—his voice, his touch, the way he looked at you just yesterday—like he wanted this as much as you did.

You didn’t even realize you had dozed off until the sound of your phone ringing jolted you awake.

You blinked against the glow of the screen. Sunghoon.

For a moment, you stared at his name, your heartbeat loud in the quiet of your apartment. You could ignore it. You could let it ring out and pretend you were still asleep. You could put an end to this charade, to tell him you were done and sick of it. But you didn’t.

You answered. His voice was gentle, cautious. “Can I come over?”

You should say no. You should end this here and now. Enough is enough. But… “Yeah. Of course,” you said, trying your best to sound normal.

Half an hour later, he was in your apartment, hands on you, lips on yours, familiar and desperate. And, as always, you let him in—physically, emotionally, despite knowing better. You let yourself believe that maybe, for just a little longer, this could be enough.

Afterward, you slipped out of bed, padding into the bathroom to wash up. By the time you returned, the room was dark, the only source of light was coming from Sunghoon’s phone on the nightstand. He was already asleep, his breathing even, his body sprawled across your sheets like he belonged there.

You reached for the blanket to pull it over him when his phone buzzed, the screen glowing against the dim light. Your gaze flickered to it, drawn by instinct.

Jenna calling...

Your chest tightened at the name. For a moment, you just stood there, watching the name flash across the screen before it faded into darkness. You could answer it. You could see what she wanted, hear her voice, and confirm everything you had been trying so hard to ignore.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you climbed into bed, curling up beside Sunghoon, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You knew what you had to do. Knew that when he woke up, this had to end for good.

But not yet.

For now, while he was still yours—warm, close, familiar—you let yourself have this one last moment. You closed your eyes and pretended everything was okay, even though you knew exactly what tomorrow would bring.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. The space beside you was cold. 

It was over.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. You had spent the night convincing yourself that you were ready for this, ready to end things, but the second you woke up to find him gone, the ache in your chest became unbearable.

Tears welled up before you could stop them. You curled into yourself, pressing your face against the pillow, sobbing into the fabric as if that could somehow muffle the sound. This wasn’t supposed to hurt. You weren’t supposed to grieve something that was never really yours. But you did.

You let yourself fall apart, mourning what could have been, whispering prayers into the silence that it didn’t have to end this way.

And then the door creaked open. You gasped, jolting up, eyes red and blurry as Sunghoon stepped into the room, holding your tumbler in his hand. 

His brows furrowed at the sight of you, eyes widening in alarm. “What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing to your side, setting the tumbler down before cupping your face and wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Hey—why are you crying?”

You shook your head, unable to form words. He pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you as you sobbed against him. He didn’t ask any more questions. He just held you, rubbing your back, shushing you gently even though he didn’t understand what had you so upset.

After a long moment, you finally managed to choke out, “I thought you were gone.”

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, blinking at you in confusion. Then, to your utter annoyance, he started laughing.

“What do you mean, gone?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I literally just went to shower and get you some water.”

You smacked his arm, your face burning. “Don’t laugh at me, you jerk!”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he said, though he was definitely still laughing.

Something about his amusement made you snap. Maybe it was the pent-up emotions, or maybe it was the fact that you had nothing left to lose—but suddenly, everything came spilling out.

You confessed it all.

How you weren’t supposed to catch feelings, but you did. How you tried to push them down, to ignore them, but they never really went away. How you had spent so long pretending to be fine with this casual arrangement, knowing deep down that you weren’t. How much it crushed you to think that he was trying to win Jenna back, how much it hurt when he canceled on you, and how stupid you felt for letting yourself get so attached.

Sunghoon stared at you, utterly dumbfounded.

You sniffled, swallowing back the last of your tears. “Well? Say something.”

And then, to your horror, he started laughing again.

Your stomach twisted. “Are you kidding me right now?”

But before you could shove him away, he grabbed your face and kissed you. Hard.

Your breath hitched, but you melted into it, gripping his shirt as he kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment all along. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice quieter now. “I like you,” he admitted. “A lot.”

You opened your mouth, but he kept going. “You’re fun, you don’t take my shit, and you get me in a way that most people don’t. I’m always looking forward to seeing you. To hearing whatever sarcastic thing you were gonna say next. To just… being with you.”

“Then why—”

“I wasn’t with Jenna because of what you think.” His hands slid down to hold yours, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “There was an accident with the exhibit setup, and I had to be there. She just happened to walk out with me.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And the part where you’re trying to get back with her?”

Sunghoon made a face. “Where did you even hear that?”

You hesitated before mumbling, “A mutual friend.”

He huffed. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I don’t know!” You did, but you weren’t about to admit that you didn’t want to seem like you were expecting too much from him—like you were demanding something that was never part of your deal.

Sunghoon sighed, squeezing your hands. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but I only have eyes for you.” His lips quirked. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t realize how much I liked you at first, but ever since we started this, I haven’t thought about anyone else.”

Your heart stuttered.

Then he smirked. “I thought we had an understanding. Did we really need a label for it?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Right. Labels are overrated.”

Sunghoon kissed you deeply, and this time, you returned it with the same amount of sweet abandon. Then he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he murmured. “And right now, I’m wondering if you’d wanna be mine too.”

You let out a sharp breath, your chest tightening at his words. For a second, you just stared at him—his dark eyes searching yours, his expression completely open, completely vulnerable.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head with an exasperated laugh.

“For fuck's sake, Sunghoon.” You squeezed his hands, tugging him just a little closer. “I’m already yours.”

His lips crashed into yours before you could say anything else, stealing the last of your breath, and this time, you didn’t hold anything back.

[fin]

[ambi01]

the way you portrayed the softest, the greenest forest jay is immaculate

Begin Again | p.js (18+)

Jay didn’t know much about love. But he knew what he wanted—and it was you, even if you came with a kid, emotional baggage, and walls he had to work his way through.

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, fluff? Pairing: Park Jongseong/Jay Park x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), MDNI, reader is older than jay and has a child, no angst just light and easy Notes: 11k words. Listening to Begin Again by Taylor Swift. Fought through my broken laptop and writer's block to finish this baby on time. I hope you like it! I appreciate comments A LOT so don't hesitate if you got smth to say :> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally nor claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story.

enjoy~

In a quiet suburban neighborhood on the south side of the city, Jay was making an inventory of the products that came yesterday, boxes of them filling up the small storage room at the far back of his pharmacy. Just another part of his mundane routine in a town that rarely gave him anything new.

He was quite content with it, despite the mundanity. Business was great in these areas, it was closer to home, no rush hour traffic, and he was far from the hustle and bustle of the downtown area. He liked to think it was a privilege to have this peaceful means of earning a living.

Most of the people were nice. He’d had his fair share of problematic and entitled customers, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d also never had to deal with robbers and whatnot that were more rampant downtown. Sure, he kept seeing the same faces, but he didn’t really mind. The folks around here were older, some of them in retirement age who liked to bring him produce or food from time to time, and the others were married people going through their own day-to-day routine of driving kids to school and picking up prescriptions.

It was nice, and he never really had any grand expectations of experiencing anything out of the ordinary.

Until today, when you walked into his pharmacy while he was in the middle of his inventory task. The chimes on the door made Jay whip his head around, surprised by the way the door was forcefully pushed open. For a second, he thought he was being robbed, craning his neck, trying to catch a glimpse past the shelves blocking his view.

Then you came into sight.

You looked like you’d been running, breathing just a little too hard, eyes darting over the shelves like you were hunting something. Jay took a step forward, halfway ready to offer help, when you spotted what you needed on your own: a pregnancy test kit.

You grabbed it without hesitation and made a beeline for the counter, where he barely had time to straighten up before you slapped it down, pulled out your wallet, and blurted, “Do you have a bathroom I could use? It’s kind of an emergency.”

He blinked. “Uh—yeah. Just through there.” He gestured toward the hallway behind him. “Last door on the right.”

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly, taking the kit with you like your life depended on it.

Jay stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where you’d been. That wasn’t a robbery. And that was definitely not the usual retiree bringing him extra zucchinis from their backyard garden.

Five minutes passed. He tried to go back to inventorying—a box of ibuprofen, a box of multivitamins, a box of whatever—but his eyes kept drifting back to the hallway.

When you finally emerged, you were looking less panicked, breathing lighter as you offered him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that,” you said, brushing hair out of your face. “Had a bit of a cuckoo fit back there. All good now.”

Jay raised his eyebrows, unsure if he was allowed to ask what “all good” meant. Instead, he managed a small smile. “No worries.”

You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge near the register, twisting the cap open before you’d even paid. “I’ll take this too, please.”

He rang you up, still caught somewhere between curiosity and amusement. “That would be 4.60.”

“Awesome, thanks.” You paid for it, gave him a quick wave and a parting smile—bright, genuine, and completely disarming. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he replied, a little too late. The door had already closed behind you.

And just like that, you were gone. Jay stared at the now-quiet door for a moment, then turned back toward the storage room to continue his forgotten inventorying.

He wasn’t in the habit of wondering about customers after they left, but still, he couldn’t help but wonder: Was it positive? Or negative?

If he were being honest, he could be quite nosy when something intrigued him. But more important than the question about your pregnancy test: Would he ever see you again?

Jay saw you again the following week. And the week after that. You never came in for anything urgent. Just little things—a couple bags of candy, Band-Aids, headache pills. One time, allergy tablets.

But what he noticed the most were the tampons. You picked them up fairly regularly. So, naturally, he assumed the pregnancy was probably a bust.

Not that it was any of his business. But the nosy part of him filed that information away with some sort of satisfaction.

You didn’t talk much when you came in. Just the usual, greetings, item requests, and a soft “thank you” when you left. Still, you were always polite and nice. You had this calming presence about you, and a smile that made the store feel a little less sterile. Jay couldn’t say when it started, but he found himself looking forward to your visits.

Not that he was doing anything about it.

Okay, maybe he was doing a little.

He might’ve started taking a bit longer bagging your items, adjusting things unnecessarily, or recounting if he got the right number of items. And a few times, he’d tossed in a cookie from the counter and called it a freebie. You always laughed a little and thanked him, like you didn’t realize it was a bribe for your attention.

He let his hand brush yours sometimes when passing your card back. And maybe his eyes lingered more than they should, along with a charming smile that he knew girls liked about him. But it wasn’t a big deal. He figured you didn’t notice. Or if you did, you didn’t mind.

Jay wasn’t planning on making a move. He liked the way things were—harmless, light, the occasional heart skip when you walked in.

That changed the day you asked, “Hey, which cold syrup would you recommend for a five-year-old?”

The words didn’t even fully register at first. He was distracted, caught up in how you looked that day, button-down blouse, and faded jeans with your hair bunched up in a bun.

Then he noticed the ring on your finger. Thin and simple, on your left hand.

He didn’t know how he’d missed it before. “Is it for your kid?” he asked, trying not to sound like he was confirming anything.

You nodded. “Yeah. He’s got a little cough. Nothing crazy, just, you know. First week of school.” You sighed. “His pediatrician’s halfway across the country, though. We haven’t sorted out a new one yet.”

Jay turned to grab a bottle from the shelf behind the counter, masking his expression. “There’s a clinic a few blocks down,” he said. “Good pediatrician. I know him. I can give him a call and tell him to expect you, if you want.”

Your face lit up, surprised and grateful. “Really? Oh my god, you’re such a sweetheart. Thank you.”

Jay gave a small nod, sliding the bottle into a paper bag. “No problem.”

And that was that. A little piece of information tucked into place. Married with a five-year-old kid. He didn’t know what he felt about it—only that it made sense. It shouldn’t even come as a surprise. This suburb was a place for people who wanted to settle down. There was no way a gorgeous, clearly intelligent woman like you would move here for nothing.

Still, he watched you walk out the door like he always did. And this time, he didn’t let his fingers linger when he handed you the receipt.

That night, just as he was eating his dinner at home, he got a phone call that had him shaking his head in amusement. Jay knew exactly why his friend was calling and part of him didn’t wanna entertain Sunghoon nosing around his affairs, but a larger part of him wanted to hear how the day went.

“Yo,” he answered, mouth still half full of kimchi fried rice.

“Hey,” Sunghoon said. “Quick question, what’s going on between you and that woman you sent over today?”

Jay fought the urge to smirk. “Who?”

“You know who I’m talking about. The one with the five-year-old. Said you recommended me to her. Pretty. Dressed nice.”

Jay leaned back in the chair, eyebrow raised, even though no one could see him. “There’s nothing going on. I just told her about your clinic. I thought you liked referrals?”

“Yes, I do, but you, my friend, have never referred anyone to me ever since I put up shop here,” Sunghoon replied, chuckling. “You never told people about my clinic. I had to hang my own damn poster in your window last year because you said—and I quote—‘people don’t look at windows anyway.’”

Jay chuckled. “I let you advertise, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point. Who is she?” Sunghoon asked again.  “I have a feeling.”

“Everyone has feelings.”

Sunghoon sighed in exasperation. “Okay, smart boy. You won’t tell me? Fine. I’ll ask her myself when she comes in for their next appointment.

Jay shook his head with a soft laugh, standing up to put his dirty dishes away. “What do you take me for? She’s a married woman with a kid. I’m not interested in her like that.”

A pause. Then Sunghoon said casually, “Dude, she’s not married.”

Jay blinked. “What?”

“Well, she was, but from what I know, she’s in the middle of a divorce. So technically, she’s not married.”

Jay sat up a little straighter. “How do you even know that?”

“I asked the kid where his dad was. He said, ‘Far away.’ Then his mom clarified. Told me they’d moved recently, and she’s still figuring stuff out. You know, small talk between patients.”

Jay didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just chuckled and said, “So you violated patient confidentiality and now you’re airing out other people’s businesses?”

“For the record, my patient was her son,” Sunghoon replied defensively. Then he added, “Didn’t seem like she was trying to hide it, anyway. Just honest, you know?”

“Huh.” Jay glanced toward the windows where he could see his pharmacy from across the street. “Well. Good to know, I guess.”

He ended the call not long after, but the subject of their conversation lingered in his mind.

She’s not married anymore. He wasn’t sure what the feeling in his chest was—maybe surprise, maybe… relief? Whatever it was, Jay found himself watching the door a little more than usual after that day.

Just in case you walked in again.

After that conversation with Sunghoon, Jay didn’t do anything drastic. He wasn’t about to pull a move just because he found out you were single—not officially, anyway. But he started to be less subtle about his interest.

He started talking more. Not just the usual small talk about the weather, but real casual, yet still low-risk questions. 

“How are you liking the neighborhood so far?” “Your kid doing better?” Or, “You always this early on Saturdays?”

You answered, always polite. Sometimes amused. Once, you even teased him back when he told you the cold medicine you picked was the second-best option. 

“Aren’t pharmacists supposed to say they all have the same formula anyway?” you said with a soft laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. Jay liked that more than he probably should have.

He didn’t flirt, not really. But he started offering you things. A pack of cookies he claimed was “going stale anyway.” A small bottle of hand sanitizer because “everyone’s getting sick.” And once, a chocolate bar he claimed was “part of a promo” even though there was no promo.

You smiled every time, said thanks, and walked out with your usual grace—hair tucked neatly behind one ear, blouse always crisp, trousers cleanly pressed. Jay noticed everything. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

Still, you never said anything. Never called him out on the extra attention, never gave him a look that told him to stop. That was all the encouragement he needed.

He was still taking his time. But now, at least, he had a reason to hope.

One day, Jay was standing outside the school gates, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the crowd of chattering kids and waiting parents. It didn’t take long before he spotted his niece, bouncy steps, pigtails flying, and a pink backpack two sizes too big.

“Uncle Jay!” she yelled, running toward him.

“Hey, kiddo,” he greeted, crouching down to catch her in a hug.

The second he pulled away, she blurted out, “I have a boyfriend.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, amused. “You do?”

She nodded proudly, pointing across the pavement. “That’s him.”

Jay followed her finger, and there you were, walking hand in hand with your son. The kid was talking animatedly, and you were smiling, eyes soft as you nodded along. It was a nice sight. Sweet and warm in a way that tugged at something in his chest.

“Well, baby girl,” he said slowly, lifting his niece into his arms, “you can’t date him.”

“Why not?” she asked, all sass.

“Because,” he said with a smirk, “Uncle Jay’s thinking about making him my son.”

She squinted at him, suspicious. “Why? That’s gonna make us cousins.”

“Yeah,” Jay chuckled, “pretty much.”

You spotted them then. Your car was parked nearby, and your gaze landed on him as you crossed the lot. You gave him a little wave, your smile as kind as always.

“Hi,” you said, your son hanging off your arm.

Jay straightened, offering a smile back. “Hey, nice to see you.”

“You know what, yeah,” you chimed, brows creasing slightly. “It’s quite nice seeing you outside your pharmacy for a change.”

Jay just nodded, eyes flitting to your son, then back at you. “This is my niece,” he said quickly, patting her back. “Not my daughter.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve met her parents,” you said with a friendly grin. “Did you know your niece’s been telling everyone my son is her boyfriend?”

Jay glanced at the two kids, now locked in a shy, giggly standoff behind him. “He’s  got good taste.”

You laughed lightly, genuinely, and just a little surprised. “Apparently so.”

He wanted to say more, but he couldn’t think about anything other than how he could casually bring up coffee and smoothly segue to asking you if you wanted to grab one with him. But then the moment passed before he could even get a word in.

“Well, see you around,” you said, nudging your son gently toward the car.

“Yeah,” Jay managed. “See you.”

You gave him one last smile, then disappeared behind the driver’s seat, pulling away with a wave.

That was fine. There’d still be a next time.

After that afternoon at the school parking lot, Jay found himself suddenly with a new reason to pick up his niece every single day. Sure, he loved his niece, but let’s be honest—he wasn’t complaining about the extra excuse to see you more often. 

Naturally, you bumped into each other more and more thanks to this slight shift in his daily routine. You kept popping up in the right places at the right times, too. At the pharmacy, at the school gate, on the sidewalks. Slowly, the awkward ‘strangers’ vibe turned into something more friendly and familiar. More conversations, more smiles, until he was finally able to ask you out.

Well—technically, it wasn’t him. It was his niece who asked you out, although he had to admit he’d orchestrated the whole thing when he casually brought up ice cream one afternoon while picking her up. The little girl, who was more or less nuts about ice cream, naturally asked if they could get some.

“Of course we can,” he told his niece. “What about your boyfriend? Does he like ice cream?”

She gave him a glare. “You said he can’t be my boyfriend.”

Jay smiled and said, “Doesn’t mean you can’t hang out with him as friends.”

Next thing he knew, there they were—Jay, you, your son, and his niece sitting at the little picnic tables by the park, one ice cream each. The kids were loud, the sun was warm, and the conversation between you felt… right.

Jay wasn’t proud of using his niece as a wingman, but hey—he had to get creative.

In that short afternoon, he learned you weren’t originally from the city. You said you moved around a lot growing up—something about your dad being in the military—and now you craved stability for your son. Jay told you he was born and raised here but had spent a couple of years abroad for school. You asked if he missed it. He said, sometimes, but this place always pulled him back.

He also found out you liked black coffee, hated olives, and were deathly afraid of frogs. You learned he once worked as a barista, still played the guitar sometimes, and secretly hated studying pharmaceutics in college but was too lazy to change courses.

Then, at some point—Jay didn’t even remember what led to it—he found himself asking, “How’s it going, by the way? The divorce with his dad?”

You looked a little caught off guard, but not upset. “We’re almost done with it,” you said. “That’s why my son and I made the move already, but…” You paused, brow furrowed slightly. “How did you know?”

Jay hesitated. “Sunghoon, the pediatrician. He’s a friend and he mentioned it.”

Your eyebrows rose. “But he’s a doctor. You know, patient confidentiality and all that.”

“But you weren’t the patient,” Jay pointed out, smirking.

“Ah, a loophole,” you said with a small laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Jay said. “We weren’t gossiping or anything. It just came up in passing. He didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you said, before he could finish. “Really. I don’t mind. I was just surprised you guys talked about me, that’s all.”

You gave him a small smile—reassuring but a little distant—and he didn’t press any further.

Later, you drove off in your car and he in his, both of you back to your own worlds again—at the pharmacy, at the school gate, little moments here and there. The year slipped quietly by like that.

Jay still wasn’t in a rush. You probably have enough on your plate as it is without him trying to work his way into your heart. But he liked that he was getting to know you piece by piece, week by week. And you… Well, you didn’t really mind.

Life simply kept happening in the last year that you knew each other. Jay still saw you at the pharmacy. You didn’t drop by as often anymore—just the occasional cough syrup run or a forgotten errand on your way home—but when you did, he always noticed. Noticed the way you gradually started dressing more comfortably now, with your hair tied looser. The way you started greeting him by name. The way your son would run straight for the vitamin gummies section without asking.

There were school events, too. Halloween parades, bake sales, parent-volunteer days. Jay somehow always ended up manning the drink table with you, or stacking plastic chairs nearby, or chatting while the kids ran wild in the gym. You once made him try your brownies, then smugly told him they were store-bought after he said they were amazing.

Sometimes the kids would ask for another ice cream day, and you’d give in because it was summer, or the end of a long week, or just because. You’d sit with Jay at a park bench while the kids played, sipping iced coffee and trading random bits of adult life. Insurance. Streaming shows. Grocery hacks. Divorce lawyers.

Once, he bumped into you at a bookstore downtown. You were by yourself, reading the back of a novel. He offered to walk you to your car. You ended up getting coffee instead, sitting at a corner table while the rain tapped against the window. You didn’t talk about anything deep that day, but Jay went home thinking about it anyway.

The friendship never needed defining. You never talked about what it was or what it wasn’t. But it was warm and consistently growing. And though it never crossed any clear lines, Jay knew exactly where his heart had been all year—right there, slowly unfolding beside yours.

Your son’s birthday came on a Saturday with clear skies and just the right kind of weather for running around. Jay arrived with his niece in one hand and a tray of slightly overbaked brownies in the other. He’d insisted on bringing something because he said it felt rude to come empty-handed. You’d invited him ahead of time, not just as his niece’s chaperone, and he’d been flattered—even if you said it as casually as offering someone gum.

The party wasn’t anything extravagant. Just an inflatable playhouse in the backyard, a long table of finger foods, and a few cartoon-themed decorations here and there, but it was perfect. Kids were loud and happy, the food was good, and you looked relaxed for once.

Jay kept mostly to the sidelines, hovering near the snack table or helping pass out juice boxes. You were on the patio chatting with other parents, glancing toward the kids every so often. Later, he found himself in the kitchen with Lucy, your friend from the city, godmother to the birthday boy, and someone who had clearly known you long enough to tease you without remorse. Jay had just helped hand out second helpings to hungry kids and was wiping his hands on a napkin when you walked in.

“Thanks for helping out,” you said with a smile. “Didn’t realize kids’ parties require keeping kids entertained and their parents too. Just not with inflatables but with random stories and gossip.”

Jay chuckled as he leaned against the counter. “No problem at all. I like helping.”

Lucy smirked from her perch on the stool. “I think he just doesn’t want to hang out with the moms.”

“The moms seem nice,” Jay said. “I just can’t relate to them much.”

You chuckled as Lucy raised an eyebrow like she didn’t quite buy it. But she didn’t press. Instead, she turned her attention to you. “His dad didn’t show?”

You shook your head. “He’s abroad. Business.”

Lucy scoffed softly. “Of course he is.”

“I honestly don’t mind,” you said. “It’s better this way.”

Jay watched your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, then loosen again.

Lucy nodded in agreement. “Birthday boy wasn’t thrilled, though.”

“No, he wasn’t,” you admitted, exhaling softly. “But he’s fine now. Kids bounce back quickly.”

Lucy smiled. “Wish adults could do that.” Then she excused herself to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone.

You turned toward him. “You want anything else to drink?”

Jay glanced at the counter. “I think I maxed out on the juice.”

You pulled open the fridge. “There’s soda, a couple beers... nothing special.” A second passed. “Actually—” You reached for the cabinet above the sink. “I have a bottle of wine I’ve been saving.”

Jay raised a brow. “Saving it for what?”

“Finished the house renovations last month,” you said, pulling out the dusty bottle and turning it in your hands. “Figured I’d celebrate.”

He smiled. “But?”

You gave a small shrug. “Didn’t really feel like opening it alone.”

Jay’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, how you said it offhand, but didn’t quite meet his gaze.

“Well,” he said, holding out his glass. “You’re not alone now.”

You poured for both of you and handed him a glass, your fingers brushing briefly against his.

“To the house,” he said, lifting it slightly.

You clinked your glass to his. “And to a finalized divorce and custody battle.”

That earned a laugh from him, surprised, but not mocking. You were blunt sometimes, but not bitter. He liked that.

Jay took a sip, then caught a glimpse of your hand as you lowered your glass. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you’re still wearing that?”

You looked down at your wedding band, brows lifting like you’d forgotten it was even there. “Yeah. I can’t take it off.”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head. “Still in love with the guy or something?” he quipped.

“God, no,” you blurted, shuddering. “Ew.”

“Then?”

“I literally can’t take it off,” you said plainly, making a show of trying to pull it out. “It’s stuck.”

Jay squinted. “Seriously?”

You held your hand out, fingers splayed. “Tried soap, oil, all the TikTok tricks. Nothing.”

He took your hand gently, eyes narrowing as he inspected the ring. “Have you tried the dental floss trick?” 

You shook your head.

“It might work. Can I give it a try?”

“Oh, yes, please,” you said, sighing in relief. “I beg.”

He smiled, thumb brushing lightly over your knuckle. “Alright then. Let’s see what we can do.”

You disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a spool of dental floss, handing it back to him with a look that says you were leaving your life in his hands. “How does it work exactly?”

“You thread the floss under the ring, then wrap your finger tightly. It compress the skin around the ring. Then it slides right off.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Wrap my finger in string and watch it turn purple? Sounds great.”

“Don’t mock the science,” Jay quipped, chuckling lightly. “Doctor Jay is in. Patient, please assume the position.”

You exhaled sharply and held out your hand, resting it on the towel. Jay gently took it, careful and delicate as he turned your palm over.

“Okay,” he said, threading the floss under the ring. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“It already hurts.”

“We haven’t started yet.”

“Just mentally preparing,” you muttered.

He began wrapping the floss tightly, brows furrowing in focus. He tugged on the floss and the ring began inching up slowly, twisting as it went. You hissed in pain.

“Okay, okay. That hurts.”

“Scale of one to ten?”

“Like… a six,” you hissed, then muttered, “seven now.”

“Almost there,” he murmured, still tugging on the floss. “You’ve got teeny fingers, but this thing is clinging for dear life.”

“Story of my marriage,” you muttered under your breath.

Jay snorted, caught off guard. “That’s a little dark.”

“Sorry. Reflex.”

“Don’t apologize. I laughed.” He twisted the ring again

You squeezed your eyes shut, muttering curses under your breath. Then finally, the ring came free and rolled across the counter.

You stared at your hand, red and slightly dented. “Holy crap.”

Jay laughed, shaking out the floss like he’d just defused a bomb. “Beauty is pain.”

You laughed breathlessly, cradling your hand. “I think I need a splint.”

He picked up the ring and set it gently on the towel, giving you a look that was half playful, half something else. “Now your marriage is officially over.”

You flexed your hand, laughing through the sting. “Yeah, but I think I lost circulation.”

“I’ll write you a prescription,” he said, chuckling.

“You’re a pharmacist.”

Jay shrugged. “No need for prescription then. I can just bypass the system, I guess.”

You rolled your eyes. The joke wasn’t funny, but he was endearing. Leaning your hip against the counter, you studied your finger. The faint groove where the ring had been was already fading. “That feels weird. But like, good weird. Lighter.”

Jay glanced at the ring, now sitting quietly on the towel. “Looks better off, honestly.”

You met his eyes, and for a second, the kitchen felt a little smaller. A little quieter.

“Thanks,” you said, softer now. “For doing that.”

He offered a small smile. “Anytime.”

There was a few seconds of silence before you nudged the wine bottle toward him. “Be a dear and give me a refill.”

Jay obliged, beaming as he poured you another glass. He didn’t say it out loud because he knew he sounded delusional, but he was pretty sure this counted as a date.

On a routine pickup one afternoon at school, Jay was cornered by a mom at the school gates, asking about his niece’s mom. 

“She’s at home with the baby. Her husband’s out of town so I’m on pick-up duty today.”

“Pretty sure I’ve seen you on pick-up duty every day,” the mom, Mila, quipped, smiling at his niece. “That’s a shame, I was going to have a small dinner party at home for my birthday. I was hoping she could come.”

“I’m sure she would have loved to,” Jay replied, smiling politely.

Mila was about to say something when she spotted you walking out of the gate holding hands with your son. She waved you over and you walked over with a smile that had Jay staring at you, momentarily distracted.

“Mila! Happy birthday!” you greeted, giving Mila a quick peck on the cheek.

“I texted the group chat, but you didn’t respond. You’re coming tonight, right?” said Mila, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “It’s just dinner with the regular group. Nothing fancy. Just wine and some good food.”

You nodded. “Of course. Count me in.”

Then Mila turned to Jay, who had just helped his niece buckle into her booster seat.

“You should come too,” she said, smiling warmly. “It’s a pity your sister isn’t here, but you’re welcome to join us if you like.”

Jay was slightly caught off guard. “Oh, uh... I wouldn’t want to intrude. It’s a mom thing, right?”

“Nonsense. You’re very much welcome,” Mila insisted, brushing him off like he’d just said something ridiculous. “We can be a little crazy, but we promise we won’t bite.”

Jay glanced over at you as if he was seeking out your permission. You seemed to have recognized his cue because your brow arched slightly in amusement, then you gave a casual shrug that said up to you. So he nodded. “Alright. I’d love to.”

“Excellent. No need to remove a seat, then,” said Mila.

The dinner was held at Mila’s place, a cozy house with a low-lit patio and a long table set with mismatched wine glasses and shared platters of food. The conversation was endless, aided by a few open bottles of red wine, and soon enough, Jay found himself the lone man among a lively circle of moms who had so much more in common than he could even begin to fathom.

For the first ten minutes, he felt like he was on a reality show. The Real Housewives of Suburbia, featuring one slightly panicked guest star. They were curious, but kind. Their questions flew in fast and with zero malice.

“So the pharmacy is yours alone, right? That’s impressive.”

“And the house too?” another mom asked. “For someone so young, you’re doing amazing.”

Jay chuckled shyly. “Well, I had help when I was starting out.”

“And you’re not dating anyone?” someone else chimed in, barely letting him breathe.

“Not at the moment,” he said carefully, sipping his wine. He hesitated for the briefest second, eyes finding your across the table, then he smiled. “I’ve got my eyes on someone. Just… haven’t worked up the nerve yet.”

That earned a round of swoons, some playful nudges, and exaggerated sighs.

One of the moms, already tipsy, leaned over and said, “You’ve got your eye on someone? She better not be married. Like our new girl here, finally single and free!”

You looked up mid-sip. “Sorry?”

“Oh, come on. You’re beautiful, young, finally divorced. Are you back in the game or what?”

Jay glanced at you, curious.

You set your glass down and smiled politely. “I think I’ll sit the game out for now. Right now I’m just focused on getting things in order. My son’s adjusting well, and I’d like to keep the stability going for him before I add anything new to the mix.”

There were understanding nods around the table, murmurs of approval. Still, one mom leaned in, waggling her brows. “But you have thought about it.”

You only smiled again, sipping your wine without answering.

Jay watched you quietly, your calmness, the way you dodged the question like it wasn’t the first time someone had tried to nudge you back into the dating scene. And for a second, he wondered what your answer would’ve been if the question had come from him.

After dinner, the moms trickled out in pairs and small groups, some tipsy, others still laughing and giggling. Jay stood near the front gate with his keys in hand, offering casual goodbyes as they passed. You were lingering on the porch with your arms folded, smiling at something Mila was saying, when Jay caught your eye and tilted his head toward the driveway.

“I’ll drive you?” he asked casually, then noticing the other moms added a little louder, “Anyone else need a lift?”

He’d consider it a smooth save, but he knew the other moms still picked up on it. A few exchanged looks and grins, but no one said anything. One mom, clearly not reading the room, raised her hand. “Oh! If it’s not a bother, just two blocks from here.”

“Not at all,” Jay said, unlocking his car and popping the doors open with a charming little smile. “Hop in.”

And so, his spontaneous rideshare plan took off. He dropped off the others with polite small talk and exaggerated cheer, playing the gentleman driver role perfectly. By the time the last one stepped out with a hurried thanks, the car felt quieter with just the two of you left inside.

“Where to?” he asked as he merged back onto the road.

You gave him your address, which Jay quickly memorized, plotting the route in his mind as he slowly drove back into the highway. 

Breaking the silence, you said, “The dinner was nice. Except for that dessert.”

“Not a fan of lava cake?”

You winced. “Nope. Chocolate cakes leave a really odd aftertaste in my mouth.”

Jay shrugged. “It was a tad too sweet though, I’m not gonna lie.”

“I’m sure it was good. I’m just…” you trailed off, shrugging.

He glanced at you. “Sorbet? To get the taste out?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“Why not? I know a place that’s open late.”

He wasn’t kidding. He swung by a small dessert bar on the corner and returned with two cups of lemon sorbet, one hand shielding the cold from the summer air as he climbed back in.

The car was now parked right outside your house. You ate with your knees drawn up on the seat, your sandals dangling off one foot as you stared out the windshield at the quiet street.

“This is good,” you said, savoring a bite.

“Told you.”

The conversation wandered from weird birthday cakes to the shows your son was currently obsessed with, to which neighbor always overwatered their lawn. Jay made quips here and there, some funny but most of them had you rolling your eyes in exasperation. Nevertheless, you seemed to be enjoying his company as usual.

At one point, when the laughter had subsided and there was nothing else to say, you looked at him abd said, “Jay, be honest.”

Jay hummed, scraping at the bottom of his cup.

“Do you like me?” you asked.

Jay paused mid-bite. Then he glanced over, lips twitching. “Are you drunk?”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a ‘no’?”

 “No,” he said briskly, shaking his head once. 

“No?”  you asked back, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Huh?” he asked, and you were both quiet for a second. Jay looked away, chuckling awkwardly. “No. I don’t mean to say I don’t like you. I do. You’re pretty cool.”

“Thanks,” you replied, still a little confused. “I like you too.”

Jay felt his heart pick up pace. “You do?”

You nodded casually, putting your now empty cup back into the plastic bag. “Yeah. You’re nice and funny. You’re good with kids. What’s not to like?” 

Then you mumbled, “Not to mention good-looking.”

“Sorry, what?”

You glanced up at him, feigning an innocent smile. “Nothing.”

Jay was unconvinced but he just nodded. “So…” he trailed off, deep in thought. “Wait. What’s going on right now? Are we… you know, confessing… feelings?”

“I guess,” you replied, shrugging. 

“This is not how I pictured it would happen.”

“Me neither,” you chuckled. “It’s fine, this isn’t deep or anything. I just genuinely think you’re nice and funny and…” You looked away, murmuring under your breath. “Hot.”

“I heard that.”

You glanced back at him. “You did? Heh. Well, it’s true.”

“I think you’re hot, too.”

Silence stretched between you for a second too long. Jay looked at you, his sorbet cup long forgotten in his hand. You weren’t smiling or saying anything, just watching him with a soft, unreadable expression that made his heart kick a little harder in his chest.

And then you leaned in to press a gentle, curious kiss on his lips. Jay froze for a second, startled, then kissed you back just as gently. Your mouths barely moved. Just pressed against each other’s, satisfying a curiosity you both didn’t know you even had.

You pulled away first. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your eyes lowering. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jay blinked. “Why not?”

“I just… I wasn’t planning on—” You shook your head, voice faltering. “A relationship’s the last thing on my mind right now. I’ve got too much going on. My head’s not in the right place.”

Jay nodded slowly, his eyes still on you. “I get it,” he said. “I really do.”

You smiled faintly. “I’m not saying I don’t want this. Just…” You sighed.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jay replied, chuckling. “I just want to get to know you more. No pressure. No expectations.”

You didn’t say anything else, you just smiled, opened your door and stepped out. Jay climbed out after you, walking with to your front door. You stopped just by the porch light, and for a moment, it felt like everything slowed down again.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck. “Would it be okay if I asked to take you out sometime? You know… like a date. If that’s not too much.”

You didn’t answer with words right away. Instead, you leaned in again—this time slower, more certain—and kissed him on the lips.

Then you pulled back, hands cupping his jaw and your thumb rubbing gently against his skin. “I would love that.”

Jay couldn’t hide the satisfaction in his smile. He held your hand on his cheek and nodded. “Good night, then.”

“Good night, Jay.”

Jay didn’t jump into something right away. There were no talks or commitment, just a mutual understanding that something was beginning. Or that something had already begun and was now picking up pace.

The next time he saw you after that night, it wasn’t anything special. Just a routine playdate between Jay’s niece, your son, and a couple of other kids. He showed up at your door with takeout. You let him in.

You ate together on the couch while the kids built a fort in the next room, the two of you laughing every time someone got “shot” and screamed dramatically for help.

Later, with your feet tucked under you and half a spring roll in your hand, Jay glanced at you and said, “This feels dangerously like a date.”

You smiled without looking away from the TV. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Maybe if you give me some, it’ll feel more like a date,” Jay quipped, glancing sideways at you.

You met his gaze, scowling in confusion at whatever he meant by that. Jay simply grinned and tapped his index finger on his lips. That made you roll your eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “What are we, teenagers?”

He shrugged. “What about asking for a kiss is teenager-ish?”

You gave him a look. “Asking.”

Jay tilted his head like he was considering that. “Then should I just… not ask?”

That made you narrow your eyes at him. “How old are you?”

“What’s age got to do with anything?”

“Just tell me.”

“Twenty-five.”

Your brows furrowed. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Why? Do I look younger than that?”

“Be serious. How old are you for real?” You scooted an inch away from him on the couch.

“Old enough.”

“Jay Park,” you warned.

He held his hands up, amused. “Okay, okay. How old do you think I am?”

“Like, twenty-six. At least.”

He was, in fact, twenty-three. “Close,” he said, lips twitching.

But your suspicious glare didn’t waver. Jay sighed, raising both hands in surrender. “Fine. I’m twenty-three.”

You gasped, shot up from the couch, and covered your mouth like you’d witnessed a crime.

“What—why? What’s wrong?” Jay asked, chuckling though he was panicking.

You stared at him, completely silent. And then you placed a hand on your temple and started laughing like you were slowly losing your mind.

“Say something!” Jay said, standing to follow you. “You can’t be that much older than me.”

“Get out,” you said through your laughter, but you didn’t mean it. Jay could tell by the way you let him pull you into a hug, your body warm against his.

He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your shoulder, playful and close. “Okay, they told me it’s rude to ask a lady her age, but how old are you?”

You rolled your eyes, but he felt you soften a little in his arms. “I had my son when I was twenty.”

Jay pulled back just enough to look at you. “Isn’t he six now?”

You nodded. He blinked. “So… twenty-six?”

“Almost twenty-seven.”

Jay grinned. “That’s not bad.” You gave him a skeptical look.

“What?” he said. “It’s like a four-year gap. That’s nothing.”

You gave a noncommittal hum but didn’t pull away. Jay counted that as a win. He sighed in relief. “This is nice.”

That made you roll your eyes and push him away. “Get away from me, kid.”

A few days later, he spotted you at the farmer’s market. He almost didn’t say anything—your hair was pulled back, and you looked calmly beautiful in a way that made his chest ache. But then your son spotted him first. 

“Uncle Jay!” he called out, waving a hand in the air. 

And that was that. He tagged along while you picked out vegetables, carried your bags, passed you napkins when your son smeared apple juice on his face. You teased him for overpaying for pears. He told you your taste in fruit was ‘objectively incorrect.’

And when the three of you sat together on a bench, quietly sharing a cinnamon roll, Jay didn’t say anything about how close your shoulders were. He didn’t dare. If he pointed it out, you might pull away, and then he wouldn’t know how to make you scoot back again.

Some nights, he texted you dumb things.

Jay: I strongly recommend some Vitamin J for you. Jay: yknow? Vitamin JAY. You: I’m blocking you. Jay: Pls don’t. I will literally cry You: You text like you’re 15 Jay: I’ll take that as a compliment Jay: Didn’t have this much game when I was 15 

On weekends, he found excuses to drop by. Sometimes it was a coffee run. Other times, it was helping your son with a diorama project, both of them hunched over cardboard and glue while you watched from the kitchen.

“Is it scientifically accurate for the T-Rex to sparkle?” Jay asked.

Your son looked serious. “Dinosaurs loved glitter.”

Jay nodded solemnly. “That tracks.”

He didn’t ask for more than you were giving. He liked the way things were unfolding in casual conversations and small glances, in the way you teased him when he stared too long and smiled absentmindedly at you.

At one point, you started handing him little tasks like picking up paper towels, grabbing snacks for the kid, helping carry folding chairs for a school event. Jay liked it. Not because he wanted credit, but because it made him feel like a part of your life in ways that felt natural.

It was like that, for a while. Gentle and organic. There were no talks about what you were or where it was going, just two people figuring it out between shared errands, porch conversations, and casual brush-of-the-hand moments. Jay didn’t push. 

One evening, you were out on your front porch with glasses of wine in hand, the air cool and quiet around you. Jay leaned against the railing, watching the way you curled your legs under yourself in that familiar spot on the porch swing.

You’d been talking for over an hour, swapping stories about bad haircuts, his old part-time jobs, and your failed employment stories. You were laughing, really laughing, and Jay found himself watching you in the porch light. The way your eyes twinkled, the lilt in your voice. It made him ache a little. Not in a sad way.

“You know,” he said, swirling what was left of his wine, “I still don’t get it.”

You looked over. “Get what?”

“You,” he said simply. “You’re smart. Kind. Thoughtful. You’re an amazing mom. You’re…” He hesitated, then just let it land. “You’re incredibly beautiful.”

You let out a soft laugh, looking away. “Okay, relax.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “I just don’t understand how someone could… fumble you. Like, how does that happen?”

The laughter left your mouth, but the smile lingered for a second before fading. You glanced down at your wine glass, turning it slightly in your hands.

“It wasn’t always bad,” you said. “Found out I was pregnant right after college and everything moved fast. We got married but it didn’t feel rushed at the time. It actually felt right.”

Jay didn’t say anything, letting you continue.

“He was loving. Supportive. Took care of me, took care of our son. We had years of what I thought was happiness. A good marriage. A stable home.” You let out a breath. “And then one day, I found out he’d been cheating on me. For years. With like dozens of women.”

You said it plainly, without drama, but Jay could feel how heavy it was when you sighed. The pain that had long since been folded and packed away.

“He was too good, actually. He never failed to show himself being the good husband, the doting dad. Said ‘I love you’ every chance he got, brought me flowers for no reason, took me on dates regularly. He was… I don’t know. Perfect.”

Jay set his glass down. He didn’t reach for you, didn’t speak right away. Just gave you space.

“He used to want to be an actor you know?” you continued, rolling your eyes. “He would’ve been really great at it. He managed to fool me for years that he was a devoted, painfully loyal husband. God, it still annoys me every time I remember how blindsided I had been.”

You looked up at him then, expecting maybe pity in his face. But there was none. Jay reached over and brushed his fingers against yours on the porch swing. 

“I’m sorry you had to experience that,” he said.

You chuckled softly. “Don’t be sorry for something you didn’t do.” You rolled your eyes and laughed. “And he was a jerk, alright? But I dropped his ass as soon as I found out. He said he had his reasons, but he was probably just gonna make excuses and pin it on me. For all I know, he was just sorry because I found out.”

Jay smiled proudly. “You did well.”

You shrugged. “I’m just glad that part of my life was over. It was a nightmare. I even had a pregnancy scare last year. We had just moved here, and it had only been like a month since I filed for divorce. Missed a period and genuinely thought I was pregnant again. It would’ve sucked because I'd be forced to stay with him.”

Jay remembered that. It was at his pharmacy that you went to buy a test kit, after all. It was then that he first met you. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since.

Soon the conversation became lighter and the night grew later. At one point, it was time for Jay to go. He had ran out of reasons to stay and he could see you were getting tired and sleepy.

You walked him to his car. “Thanks, Jay.”

Jay blinked. “For what?”

“For being here. For…” you shrugged. “Everything.”

“Don’t mention it. Anything to impress someone you like, right?” he said, defusing what would have been a serious conversation. It was not that he didn’t want serious conversations. He was just a little nervous that the grateful look in your eyes would end with you telling him you appreciated him, but couldn’t return his feelings.

Jay wasn’t the type to overthink, but he knew how to manage his expectations

You rolled your eyes and huffed a laugh. “Get out of here before I get sick of that face.”

Jay grinned, shaking his head as he pulled you into a hug. “I don’t think that’s possible. I’m under the impression that you like this face a lot.”

“Dream on, I guess,” you quipped.

He didn’t kiss you, though he wanted to. When he pulled away, he kept his hands in his pockets, nodded, and said, “Good night.”

“Good night, Jay.”

Jay didn’t hang out with his friends much. It was mainly because they lived halfway across the country or were too busy with adulthood to make time for old friends. It wasn’t really a big deal. They kept in touch, met at least once a year, and reached out to each other when needed. Jay liked his low-maintenance friends.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was the opposite. He always checked in on them, always the one who made plans to meet, always the main reason the friend group was even alive. And naturally, since Jay and he were practically neighbors, Sunghoon always made sure they saw each other at least twice a week.

“What’s the score?”

“97 and 80. Your team’s toast,” Jay replied, leaning back on his couch, eyes fixed on the basketball game they were watching on his TV.

Sunghoon chuckled. “Not the game. I meant with you and the single mom.”

Jay scowled at his friend. “She has a name.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry,” said Sunghoon, hands raised in surrender. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

Jay didn’t say anything, just grabbed his bottle of beer and took a swig, his frown still in place. Sunghoon watched him for a few seconds before carefully broaching the subject again.

“So?”

Jay sighed. “We’re fine. We’re hanging out, going on dates. Having fun.”

“Is it serious?”

“I don’t know, man,” Jay replied honestly. “I think she likes me too, but I don’t think she’s… fully here. You know, emotionally.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “I mean, can you blame her? She just got divorced, and she has a kid. Getting into another relationship is probably the last thing on her mind right now.”

Jay leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m taking my time.”

Sunghoon shook his head with a grin. “Man, you really have a thing for wounded older women with pretty eyes and emotional baggage, don’t you?”

Jay didn’t flinch. “She’s not broken,” he said, not harshly, just quietly. “She’s doing good and she’s perfect just the way she is.”

Sunghoon blinked. “Damn, bro. You’re down bad.”

The next day, Jay went to pick up his niece at school and say hi to you. He knew he could just text you to say ‘hi’, but nothing beats seeing you in person. 

He stood near the fence, waiting for the school bell to ring, when he caught sight of a familiar group gathered near the benches—a circle of moms you were friends with. You were there too, and the sight of you made Jay grin from ear to ear.

Damn. Sunghoon was right. He was down bad for you, and frankly? It was getting a little embarrassing.

Jay shook his head at himself, chiding himself as he approached your circle. He stopped when he heard his name pop up.

“I knew he liked you,” Mila said, chuckling. “What guy would hang out with a bunch of moms for no reason? I mean, it’s not like he could talk to us about homemade croutons or loose baby teeth.”

They laughed while you looked down at your hands with your cheeks burning and a shy but unmistakable smile on your lips.

“He’s so young, though,” another mom commented. “Not that it’s bad. You’re pretty young, yourself.”

One mom snickered playfully. “Does it matter? Jay doesn’t seem to mind the gap at all. And, honey, let me tell you about them young men—”

“Oh my, God. Stop!” another mom chided, discouraging the subject when she noticed Jay approaching.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks but keep smiling as your mom friends quickly scattered, shooting you quick knowing looks as Jay came closer.

“Hey,” Jay said, smiling as if he didn’t just catch them gossiping.

You tried your best to smile normally. “Hey.”

“Am I wrong to think I’m pretty famous among your mom friends?”

You laughed, tilting your head. “Don’t let it get to your head. Moms have short attention spans.”

“Really?” he asked, genuinely curious. That made you laugh again.

“Of course, not.” 

Jay grinned, then reached for the sleeve of your jacket, brushing some lint off it absently. 

You gave him a look. “See that? That’s why you’re the subject of moms’ gossip.”

Jay rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and he didn’t let go of your sleeve right away. Not long after, your son came running out of the gate, and you welcomed him with a big hug and a peck on his forehead.

“How was your day?”

“Amazing! The teacher brought a volcano into class today!”

Your eyes glimmered as you smiled. “Oh, that is amazing. How did she do that?”

Jay was watching fondly when he heard his niece call out to him. He glanced at the gates, waving a hand and beckoning the child over. You exchanged pleasantries and a quick chat before Jay offered to walk you to your car.

“See you, Monday, big guy,” Jay said to your son, giving him a high-five before turning to you with a smile. “See you, pretty.”

You scoffed, trying to downplay how it made your stomach flutter. “See you around, Jay.”

Jay gave one last wave before stepping back from the car, watching you turn your engine on and start to drive. But you didn’t leave right away, instead, you rolled your window down and called him over again.

“What’s up?” he asked.

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, but Jay caught the way you swallowed nervously as you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Do you wanna… come over Friday night?”

Jay blinked. Did he hear that right?

“My son’s got a sleepover with a couple of his friends. I’ll be at home, making dinner. I was wondering if you’d like to join me.”

Jay’s heart did this little flip in his chest. This was something entirely new to him. You’d never made a move on him before, never made plans first. Now you’re inviting him over for dinner?

“Like a date?”

For a second, something flashed in your eyes that made Jay think you were about to take it back. But you didn’t. You just looked away, scowling like this was hard for you to say.

“Yes,” you said begrudgingly. “Like a date.”

Jay tilted his head, grinning mischievously. “Why are you saying it like you don’t mean it?”

“Forget it,” you grumbled, rolling your windows up.

“No, no, wait!” Jay tapped on your window just before it completely closed. “Yes. I’ll go. I’d love that. I’ll even wear a tie.”

You rolled your windows back down, glaring at him but unable to control your smile. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Yeah? Well,” he said, shrugging. “You’re cute when you get all shy like that.

You leaned your head on the backrest and sighed. “Go away before I change my mind.”

Jay was quick to move away from your car. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grabbed the steering wheel, glancing at him again and saying, “I’ll text you.”

“Looking forward to it!”

You nodded, cheeks still blushing, and you went your separate ways. Jay walked to his car with his chest a little lighter, already thinking about what Friday night might mean.

Jay showed up at your door at seven that Friday night. On the dot, not even a minute late.

No tie, but he wore a navy blue coat over a crisp, white button-down. His hair was styled, not too polished, but enough to show he’d put in effort. He had wine in one hand and a smug little grin.

“Wow,” you said, leaning on the doorframe. “Didn’t I say I was making dinner?”

“You did,” he replied, stepping inside as you held the door open. “And I put on a jacket for it. I’d feel severely overdressed if you’re feeding me grilled cheese.”

You laughed, closing the door behind him. “About that…”

Jay turned to look at you, narrowing his eyes. “What?”

You took a deep breath and said, “I thought about it and realized—I’ve never actually tasted your cooking. You talk a lot about it, but I have zero proof you’re not just making things up.”

He stared at you for a few seconds, recognizing the mischief in your smile and the twinkle in your eyes. “But this is Prada,” he quipped, pointing to his coat.

You clasped your hands together and let out an exaggerated gasp. “Really? So was my lip balm! Come on!”

Jay dropped his head back as you grabbed his hand and led him into your brightly lit kitchen. “How good can you make steak?”

“Good?” he smirked. “I make the most amazing steak and not break a sweat.”

“Uh-huh. Impressive,” you deadpanned, stopping in front of the countertop where ingredients were waiting for Jay.

He gave the countertop one sweeping gaze before sighing and shrugging off his coat. You offered to put it away, and he watched you cross the hall with grace, disappearing into the living room as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

By the time you returned, he already had an apron in hand.

“You conned me,” he said, slipping it on. “But I’m gonna let it slide because I don’t play when it comes to my cooking.”

You giggled, grabbing your own apron. Jay stepped behind you, wordlessly taking the ribbons from your hands. His fingers brushed your waist, then lingered for a moment as he tied the knot. You gathered your hair, and he caught the faint scent of your perfume—soft, floral, familiar. The curve of your neck made his mouth go dry, and suddenly, he was nervous about the fact that there was only you and him in this house right now.

He cleared his throat, a half-smile forming. When he was done, he placed both hands lightly on your shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You glanced back at him, surprised but not displeased.

He held your gaze, smiling. “And also because you look amazing tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at his compliment but couldn’t help smiling. “Flattery’s not gonna get you out of making the steak.”

Jay grinned. “Wasn’t trying to get out of it. Just setting the mood for the night.”

Jay got to work, moving around your kitchen like it was second nature. You handed him utensils when he asked, refilled his glass without being prompted, and watched as he expertly diced garlic, tossed ingredients into a pan, and swirled them with a flick of his wrist. He tasted the sauce, frowned, added a splash of something, tasted it again, then smiled in satisfaction.

“You always this smug when you cook?”

“I’m not smug. I’m confident,” he said, smirking shamelessly. “Cooking’s my therapy. And it’s also how I assert dominance.”

You snorted. “Oh, wow. Color me impressed,” you said sarcastically.

At one point, you tried to reach for the tongs while he was sautéing garlic for the butter. Jay swatted your hand away gently, not even looking up. “You said you wanted to try my cooking, not ruin it.”

You gaped at him, laughing. “Wow. You’re so lucky I like you.”

He finally glanced over with a boyish smirk. “You like me?”

You pretended to groan. “Not for much longer.”

“Too late. I’m about to steal your heart with the best damn steak you’ve had in your life. You’ll be in too deep to back out.”

You leaned against the counter, chin resting in your palm as you watched him melt butter and swirl in the garlic, rosemary, and thyme. The sizzle filled the kitchen, along with the warm scent of herbs and richness. It smelled like something out of a cozy restaurant.

Jay caught your expression and smirked. “See? I told you.”

You chuckled. “Are you cooking to make food or to impress me?”

“How about both?”

It was true. Jay was thriving under the praise. Every time you made a noise of appreciation or leaned in to ask, “What is that you’re adding?”, he lit up just a little more. The more you complimented him, the more he showed off. He angled the skillet toward you to let you smell the browning butter, showed you the trick to checking the steak’s doneness with the press of a finger, and even flicked a bit of salt at you just to make you laugh.

It worked.

Dinner didn’t drag. In fact, it barely felt like a full meal had passed. You ate at the kitchen island with your stools pulled close, sharing bites off each other’s plates and laughing through most of it, especially when you dramatically insisted on plating the sides like a five-star chef and then immediately spilled the garnish. He kept joking that he was gonna post a review.

By the time you made it to the couch, the plates were in the sink and the lights were dimmed, leaving only the soft, amber glow of a lamp nearby.

Jay sank into the cushions first, two fresh glasses of wine in hand, his shirt now a little rumpled from cooking—and two buttons undone at the top. You probably didn’t even notice when that happened. Or maybe you did and just pretended not to.

You curled up next to him, barefoot now, wine in hand. Your legs folded beneath you, your head eventually resting on his shoulder as the minutes passed and the buzz in your veins mellowed everything out.

“This is nice,” you murmured, fingertips brushing the hem of his sleeve.

Jay glanced down, amused. “The wine or the company?”

You let out a small laugh. “The wine’s good.”

“Well, I brought it, so I’ll take that as a win.”

You nudged your shoulder into his chest, but you were smiling. “You know I mean both.”

He hummed, satisfied, his arm settling comfortably around you. It was warm there, the kind of warmth that made it feel like the night could stretch on forever. You stayed quiet for a bit, your head nestled against his chest, right where you could feel the subtle beat of his heart. It was steady. Comfortable. 

You talked about nothing for a while. Your son’s latest obsession with volcanoes. Jay’s niece and her newfound fear of ladybugs. The way old friends would drop off the radar then suddenly reappear with three kids and a golden retriever. All random stuff. Comfortable stuff.

You were warm and laughing. He liked hearing you laugh like that, relaxed and unguarded, a little sleepy from food and wine.

But then the mood shifted just slightly. There was a pause, a second longer than usual, and then you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Jay?”

Jay glanced down to meet your eyes. “Yeah?”

“Why do you like me?” You asked it softly, almost like you regretted it the second the words came out.

“I mean—really. I’m divorced. I’ve got a kid. I’m older than you. Not by a lot, but enough. Meanwhile, you’re…” You gestured vaguely at him. “You’re you. Handsome and young and sweet and patient. You could be with anyone.”

You looked down at your wine glass, twisting it slightly in your hand, like you were bracing for some kind of gently-worded pity.

But all he said was, “I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

You looked back at him, searching his face for more.

Jay sat up a little, just enough so he could look at you properly. “I don’t need some checklist version of perfect,” he said gently. “I don’t even know what a perfect woman is. I just know I like you.”

He reached out and took the wine glass from your hands, setting it aside on the coffee table. Then he cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb across your skin. “You’re smart. You’re funny when you’re not trying to be. You make me nervous sometimes, in the best way. And watching you with your kid? That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You didn’t say anything. You just stared at him, like maybe you weren’t used to hearing things that simple and kind without a catch. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came.

Jay leaned in and kissed your forehead. “So don’t talk about yourself like you’re anything less than that.”

You exhaled, then you nodded, pressing your face back into his chest like you didn’t want him to see the look on your face. He held you a little closer, resting his cheek against the top of your head, and you stayed there like that.

“I think this is the part where I tell you that I like you too,” you said softly, but Jay heard every single word.

He glanced down at you and you looked up at him with a shy smile. You stared at each other for a while, then he leaned in slowly, giving you every second to pull away. But you didn’t. You tilted your face up to meet his, and your lips touched his with a softness that almost knocked the breath out of him.

When he pulled away, you reached up to cup his face. Jay kissed you again, this time longer. His hand slid to the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing behind your ear as he deepened it. When he felt your fingers slide over the open buttons of his shirt, resting on the warm skin underneath, he exhaled a shaky breath against your mouth.

“You sure?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded and that made him smile before he caught your mouth in another kiss. His hands roamed up your sides, under your shirt, across skin he’d only brushed in passing before. You were warm and soft beneath him, sighing against his mouth as he slipped his tongue between your lips, coaxing yours into something wetter, deeper, and hungrier.

Your dress came off in the blur between one kiss and the next, and then he was kissing down your neck, sucking gently at the base of your throat, hands on your breasts like he’d been dying to touch you. You gasped when his thumbs brushed over your nipples, hips instinctively bucking forward against him.

“Still with me?” he rasped.

You nodded. “Don’t stop.”

He slipped his hand into your shorts, fingers finding you slick and ready, and the way you moaned needily when he pressed went straight to his spine. He worked you slowly, mouth never leaving your skin. He kept his free hand on your hip as you parted your thighs for him. And you tried to stay quiet. Biting your lip and holding your breath to stifle your moans. Jay noticed that.

“No one’s home, love,” he whispered against your jaw, in between the small kisses he was planting on your skin. “You don’t have to hold it in.”

For you, that was persuasive enough. You cried out softly when he slid two fingers inside you. Your head fell back against the couch, lips parted, pussy pulsing around his fingers as he coaxed you closer into an orgasm.

His mouth around your nipple was making you lose your mind and it wasn’t long before you trembled underneath her and came with a sharp gasp.

Jay kissed you through it, slowly and tenderly. You snaked your hand under his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one. And when Jay pulled away for a second to tug it off, you placed a hand on his chest to stop him from kissing you again.

“Bedroom,” you said.

That one word was sentence enough for Jay. He rose to his feet, lifted you off the couch like you weighed nothing and walked briskly toward the staircases. You pointed to your bedroom and he made it there in a flash. He laid you down like he was handling something precious, but the look in his eyes was anything but patient.

“Can you believe this is happening?” he asked, tucking a few strands of hair behind your eyes.

You didn’t say anything. You just opened your legs for him without shame, without hesitation. Jay got rid of the last articles of clothing he had on and jumped into bed. Then he slid inside you slow, eyes locked on your as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and your thighs around his hips.

You clenched around him with a soft cry—and Jay had to bury his face in your neck just to keep himself together. You were warm, tight, perfect around him, and he moved in a rhythm that was more reverent than rough, more worship than want.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You feel so good.”

You moaned softly, fingers digging into his back. “Keep going, Jay.”

That broke something in him—self restraint. He moved faster and steadier, hips slamming against yours delightfully. You clung to him, gasping his name as he fucked you deep and steady, pace growing rougher with each thrust, like weeks of tension were pouring out of him all at once.

You didn’t bother holding back. You cried out, loud and shameless, each sound feeding the fire between you. He kissed you again, swallowing your moans, one hand gripping your thigh, the other tangled in your hair.

“Oh, fuck, I needed this,” he whispered, panting against your lips as he continued his relentless thrusts.

“Oh, Jay.”

You came first—hard and fast, legs tightening around his waist as your cunt clenched tight around him, making him cum too. His hips stuttered, and he spilled inside you with a guttural moan, burying his face in you neck as you both lost your mind in the titillating euphoria brought about by the passion between you.

After a long moment, Jay fell onto the bed beside you, then pulled you closer to himi. Your head rested on his chest.

“Was that supposed to happen?” he asked, his voice still a little raspy.

“Absolutely not,” you chuckled, wrapping an arm around his torso. “Not without a condom, anyway.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged. “It’s fine, I guess. I’m on birth control.”

Jay let out a quiet laugh. “Right. You picked them up regularly at the pharmacy.”

You pulled away just enough to glare at him. “Okay, I’m switching to another drugstore. Having you keep track of things like that is a little creepy.”

Jay smirked and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re only complaining about it now? Really? Right when I’ve seen everything there is to see?”

You slapped his chest, but didn’t argue. He hugged you tighter and you stayed like that for a few minutes more before you sat up with a sigh. Jaay propped himself up on his elbow, watching you blink sleepily.

“Bathroom?” he asked and you nodded.

He sat up on the bed and moved to press a kiss on your forehead before gently tugging you out of the bedroom.

The sound of water filled the bathroom as Jay adjusted the temperature in the tub. You were already curled in the basin, knees folded to your chest, chin resting on them while warm water wrapped around your skin. He climbed in behind you and pulled you between his legs, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Too hot?” he murmured near your ear.

You shook your head and let your body relax into him. The heat, the scent of your soap, the feel of his chest behind your back, all of it made you feel like you were floating.

He pressed a soft kiss to your damp shoulder. “You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“About us? I keep thinking about my boy. What am I gonna tell him?”

Jay was quiet for a second. Then he said, “You tell him whatever you’re ready to tell him. I’ll follow your lead.”

You rested your head against his collarbone, comforted by how safe it felt. “Don’t follow my lead. I’m not good at this. I haven’t done this before. Dating as a single mom.”

“I know,” he said softly, chuckling. “But you’re forgetting that I haven’t done this before either.”

“Really?” you teased, glancing back at him. “Good to know. I had my suspicions that you liked older single moms.”

Jay laughed, and you felt the vibration of it through his chest. “Where did that even come from?”

You didn’t say anything, just giggled and shrugged. Then you turned your hand palm-up in the water, and Jay’s fingers intertwined with yours like they belonged there. You squeezed once, and he squeezed back.

“I’m not in a rush,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t worry about me.”

You nodded, comforted by his understanding. After a while, Jay chuckled. “Can’t believe I dressed up for dinner just to end up cooking and sitting naked in a bathtub.”

You snorted. “Feel free to leave if you hate it.”

He grinned into your shoulder. “Be honest. You conned me into cooking and sleeping with you, didn’t you?”

“In your dreams, Jay,” you scoffed, trying to shrug him off. He didn’t budge.

“It’s okay, love. I like it. You can con me every day, I won’t complain,” he said, smug.

“Oh, shut up!” you chided, recoiling when his chin tickled your neck.

He didn’t know what the next day would bring—or the next week, or month. But for the first time in a long time, Jay had something he wanted to hold on to. Something he wanted to last.

You.

[fin]

[ambi01]

its one of my fave vampire hoon ff on tumblr.

raspberry stains

vampire!sunghoon x fem!reader

❦︎ synopsis: left alone on the streets of your small village you are offered the opportunity to trade your life for only a small price to pay. You are given to vampire prince sunghoon who has not had a taste for blood for almost a lifetime. Not because he does not feel hunger but because he has not found the one that temps him. ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings: vampires, blood, blood drinking, angst, dark themes, reader held against her will, biting, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

⋅˚₊‧ wc: 18.5k ‧₊˚ ⋅

❦︎ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: sacrifice (eat me up) -enhypen an: thank you to my bestie @luvsicktyun who sent me an ask after we watched so much en o'clock together on a late friday night. I do not think ill be writing a lot for enha and I will not be taking requests for them! I do hope you enjoy this tho bc I love vampires so much <33 this is not proofread pls forgive me sweet angels I am a monster

[m.list]

To be a gift was to be a blessing. Young girls and boys were picked up off the streets of dying villages, rampant with sickness and filth. The heavily coated royal servants cased the roads, their scent fragrant and foreign. Even if they were not turned they still had that enticing pull to them, lined with the beckoning aura of the vampires just by association. Or maybe it was because no one in your village had seen such decadence, that slow prowl, ruby red gems dripping from chains slung around their bodies showing you who's kingdom they belonged to. 

You had only heard stories of the vampires sending to find feeders outside of their kingdoms. Not stolen, kidnapped, or captured. Persuaded by the idea of a full belly that none born to this kind of poverty had ever experienced since falling away from their mothers. It's why when the servant leaned down next to your half-stiff body, trembling from the cold wind, you let him. Let him breathe in the scent of you, eyes closing as you send a prayer for some kind of savior from this cold hell you had been born into. Fingers numb as you held them, knowing that as tight as you had gripped it should have hurt, knees pulled to your chest, the half moth eaten blanket wrapped around you the only relic you had from once living between four walls and not against one. 

“Have you ever been fed from before?” It was that single question that made you blink back to reality, looking at the pale face inspecting you. He was a vampire, you could tell from the faint ring of red around his iris’ but it didn't scare you as you had been told it should have. Even if you would be taken away, anywhere would be better than the cobble street digging into you, staining your clothes. It wasn't a bed as you had tried to convince yourself every night as you faded to sleep. If they locked you in a cellar you're sure even if it's cold it would at least keep you dry from the snow, blocked from the wind. 

“Never,” the word sealed your fate like a fresh wax stamp. They had not believed you, not fully. They turned over your wrists, tipped your chin looking over your neck and any hot spot most vampires liked to drink from often, just to make sure they found no puncture marks. You were weak and malleable, easy enough to pick up and carry away like the bodies they carted after the plague. 

You didn't ask questions, not when they handed you broth to drink, breaking the unintentional fast you had found yourself stuck in. not when they led you out of their horse-drawn carriage and through the back doors of a towering stone castle. It had been a long journey, one you spent most of your time relishing in because of the momentary block from the constant wind you had been subjected to while on the streets. But you should have watched the way in so you could have had some hope of knowing the way back out. 

Be grateful, you didn't say the words out loud but they kept on a persistent loop in your brain, rattling around your skull until you wouldn't think any other thoughts but that one demand. You should be grateful, everyone you knew would have told you the same thing. You had food coming at the same hours every day, new clothes that were nicer than you had ever worn, made of fabrics you had never seen in your town's shop before it was run down and ransacked. And they kept you in a small room with a fire, tended often by a maid who did not look at you. But it was all a very pretty cage. 

And after a full belly and a right bed to sleep on your mind was clearing. Every little thing that you had been told about the vampires was coming back to you in small spurts. They did not take nicely to anyone besides themselves and their feeders, on occasion, but even then the feeders were their property and not their friends. And you knew even if they were being nice, making you stronger, and dolling you up, it all came at a price that you would have to pay in blood. 

You didn't know how painful the cost would be, the stories were filled with conflicting reports. You had known a girl who had taken a vampire lover once and she had come back hazy-eyed and begging to see him again. It was not the kind of inhibition you would have wanted to lose. The girl you had once known had come back hollow, not in the sense of being bloodless but of being bound to a feeling that was unlike any other. And that made you scared. Even more so than horror stories that had come back about the burning that set place in one's veins the second they had been bitten, the draw of blood being sucked clean from them had felt like a hot iron branding them in thin lines all over their bodies. Pain was one thing, loss of oneself was another. 

You had wanted help, you had not cared about what would happen to you when you were starving, cold, and so so alone. You would have let them bite you right then without a second thought but you had time to think over what it all meant now. You would be stuck here, bound and passed around like a bottle of cheap wine they found for a good deal because to them you were just a thing to be owned and put away once done. Sure they fed you but it was only in turn to feed themselves. They clothed you but only so that they could look at something pretty while they took from you. At least they had you warm with a bed you could rest on but you're sure that blood warmed was better than blood cold. 

The thoughts of leaving showed up even before they came in with the pearl necklace. The length of the pearls strung together is worth more than you had thought possible for a piece of jewelry. The beads looked like white opal, heavy against your collarbone as they fasted the necklace securely. A long trail of them beaded down in a row dangled down your back as if it was a long lead. Because it was a collar, not a fashion statement. You were nothing more than a pet for them and you knew it the second one of them pulled on the string while trying to see if it was in place. The movement had sent your hand to your neck, fingers slipping between your windpipe and the beads, tugging on them to try and see if there was any give and finding none at all. 

It had made you cry, feeling the pearls cold, the weight down your back made you straighten, wanting to get away from the feeling, the shock of them like frozen fingertips on your spine. They set out clothes for you, silk and chiffon, flowing around your waist and legs, your wrists wrapped in soft mesh cuffs sprayed with a faint perfume. They were making you look appealing, pinching your cheeks, your lips, trying to get more blood flow through them.  

“He will find you very pretty,” one of the many handmaids muttered as she pressed a cloth to the corner of your eyes, collecting the tear that had threatened to spill. “The prince enjoys pretty things,” 

You watched the way your chin trembled in the mirror, your teeth clenching to try and get the image out of your head of some prince who would want something pretty to feed from. It only made you want to run from the through, from this castle dawned in candlelight and heavily velvet-covered curtains. You haven't seen the sun in over a week, not unless they let you walk up the winding stairs from your room to the kitchen. The soft light comes through the diamond-patterned glass. But they didn't take you down to pick what you wanted for dinner anymore after you had tried to run. 

It had happened in a blink, the door was open, the cold air sweeping in around your ankles the second you made it down the last step. It had been a split-second thought, your body had already been on edge, flight or flight taking over your every sense but you hadn't had an opening or outlet to get the feeling out. And so the second you had seen that bright light, blinding from only having seen the light of the fire in your room for so long, you took the opportunity and fled. 

They had caught you and you didn't even have it in you to fight it anymore. The words going round and round, again and again, be grateful- be grateful- be grateful- 

“You won't be staying in here for long, most gifts stay with their charge,” a handmaiden comments, fixing your skirt making sure it's laid exactly where she wants it to be. “And I've seen your room, it is very nice,” as if that was supposed to make you feel any better as if it would stop the tears from slipping.

They could set you up with everything you had ever wanted but it would not make you forget that once you had complete control over everything in your life. Yes, you had been in the streets, half alive with no hope, willing to take any option to get you away from it. But now all that was settling over you was fear. Your stomach always turned, everyday you twisted your hands together, worrying at your nails, twisting the mesh cuffs around and around your wrist, trying to distract yourself from the bugs making a home in your belly. You wonder if other gifts had felt butterflies or the same mayflies you had; the kind that picked over dead things and not sipped from vibrant flowers. 

It felt wrong to enjoy something that felt like dying even if you didn't know what it felt like to have teeth scratching over a vein just yet. This was supposed to be a blessing but all you felt was the feeling of being trapped, lured in with a small chunk of cheese like a mouse right before it was snapped in half. You were wiggling, each tear a squeak, a cry for help. But no one who set a mouse trap that was intended for death helped save the mouse they had captured. 

They made sure the pearls would never come off. Welding the latch shut after you had hidden them. The weight of them stuck and still not familiar when they finally got you ready to be gifted. They had prepped you enough, fed you enough to bring life back into your face, and the person you saw in the mirror was one you would have never recognized at first glance. She was not you and you hated the one who would have you because they had done this.  

When they brought you from your room they twisted the pearls until the lead was in front, easy to pull you along behind the servant they had sent to bring you down. You did not fight this time, not when all their eyes were on you and you felt as if you had given up on yourself. Not only were you scared but you were done. You had missed the opportunity to make it out, they had been fast, and there had been nowhere to hide before you hit the treeline of the surrounding forest. If you ran again they had people who would see exactly where you were at any time, and you didn't know the woods or the way back to your village. There was nothing to do but give in. 

They had gone over the list of things you would have to do for the vampire you would be assigned to. The long list was told to you over and over again. But they kept up the same few points, never let another feed from you, you were to be theirs alone, listen to them at all times, and follow them close. It felt silly to be treated like a puppy with attachment issues. 

It wasn't until they had brought you to the throne room that you first laid eyes on Sunghoon. In an instant he had caught you in his stare, almost as quickly you saw the slight tremor in his nose, a twitch that was stilled within the second you had seen it. He swallowed thickly, jaw working as he took you in. Everyone turned to you, looking over what they had done to make you as close to perfect as you needed to be as a gift. 

Your throat was tight with so many eyes on you. The rows of vampires make the air smell too sweet and alluring. Your body was telling you to run, pulse pumping and hammering in your ears. Sunghoon sat at the raised dais with his father, the throne he sat on only slightly smaller, still forged in gold, intricate patterns of ivy surrounding his head like the laurels worn by the gods. 

“I got you a gift,” the sultry voice of the king was heavy in the empty air. A room full of still vampires was like a room full of statues, his voice carried between their bodies echoing even if he did not speak up louder than if he were ordering tea. “It's good luck to be gifted a feeder on a solstice and I'm sure you will find her to be very sweet, my men went out looking for only the most decedent of feasts for you,” 

And Sunghoon could smell the sweetness on you, the perfume sprayed to your wrists only highlighting the temptation you should have brought to him. For a second he could feel his fangs tingle for the first time in what felt like forever and he had wanted to let them down but then he caught that faint hint of something bitter. His stomach flipped, and he tried to keep his face clear; tried not to let his weakness show. You were scared, the fear tinting your blood with something he couldn't quite put his finger on. 

Sunghoon had spent years unable to explain why he found it so hard to feed when it was all but expected of him if he wanted to live. He had never met a starving vampire, he had known the hungry, seen them in the streets fighting over meals but it did not feel as if they were being carved open from the hollowness. Sunghoon had been hollow for what felt like years, only stomaching drops of blood at a time before they threatened to come back up. He had never seen a vampire sick like he got, had never come across someone who shivered at the scent of a perfectly healthy girl so willing to turn her wrist to his waiting mouth. But he could not bring his fang forward to do the job, not when he smelt that faint thread of fear in their blood. 

They had been tainted even if only a little bit but it was there poisoning them. And he could smell it on you even across the room, your beating heart loud to his ears, echoing the promise of being full. He did get hungry, he was always hungry, and you did tempt him, but he knew that fear was marbling your blood like the fat marbling a steak, others found it gave the blood a spice that was needed but to him it only made him cringe. 

You were a gift and he could not turn you away, not when it would show weakness to those who did not know how much of a struggle it was to feed. He would look as weak as he felt when he was so empty. And if you were scared he didn't want to make it worse by trying to feed and coming away unable, then it only colored the blood with the taste of disappointment and that was worse for him to stomach. 

“Thank you, my king,” it was the only response he could muster, eyes finding the pulse point at your neck, watching the thumping vein like he was expected to. But as he watched he could scent the way it made you feel, could tell the others envied him as they smelt that spicy sweetness as it flooded the room. The only other feeder here was his father's, the pearl necklace chained to the side of his seat as he had her standing right by his side. 

He knew that having a feeder always available was a display of wealth, always a meal ready whenever he even felt the urge. But anything would be better than subjecting someone to be tied to his side when he was already broken. A vase that had cracks in it so that anything added would spill out of him. He didn't want to keep you any more than you must have wanted to stay by his side. Royal feeders could not be fed on by anyone else and so he knows that you were unmarked by anyone else's fangs. And he would not be able to show you that it wasn't supposed to feel bad, that he had been told it was a pleasurable feeling if one found the right match, but Sunghoon had mourned that he would never find the one. 

The nights had passed with him thinking about how it was the last thing he wanted. He had lived this long with the hunger he could spend the rest of his life like this. It didn't even hurt anymore, didn't ache as it had when he was a child. Back then it had been an unbearable pain, trying to swallow fast mouthfuls to make sure that even a bit would get down, but it was only for a small time that it would curb any hunger he felt. He would curse and cry over the pain, beg to be like anyone else, and he had tried to use his compulsion on a human once, but still, even under the spell he could taste it, the overripe fruit flavor like sickening wine on his lips, staining his teeth and making him break apart into a mess of pleads. 

He wanted to be like the others, even in their disgusting overindulgence, anything was worth wishing for when he was so empty. But no amount of blood could make him feel the same joy they felt when everyone else fed. So he was okay with being alone, okay with the thirst, the pain of being empty. But it was not your cross to bear, he did not want you to worry over him, hating him he could stand, he would weave that into an excuse as a reason to send you back wherever it was they had found you. But he could not say that now with the audience before them waiting for his elation at the perfectly sweet gift his father, his king, had given him. 

The staff member was quick to pull you along by your pearls but at least when they pulled you forward they did not choke you as it had when they pulled you backward. He left you right at the first step, the black and white marble, glossed and reflecting the candlelight back at you. When the pearl chain was dropped it was heavy against your chest and for the first time you found comfort in the weight of it, the only thing that was now a constant, something familiar in the room of unfamiliar. 

Sunghoon stood, his head dipping down as he bowed, bent halfway, one hand on his stomach and the other at his side before righting himself and meeting you at the bottom of the steps. He reached out and you flinched, eyes screwed shut, worried to feel the brush of his fingers on you when he grabbed the pearls to tug you up the steps to stand right next to the throne he had gotten up from. But the ghosting of his fingers did not come, your eyes peeling open to look down at where he held his palm up for you to place yours. It was a soft invitation that you did not want to accept. 

He was so very pretty when you looked up at him, eyes following the moles on his skin like connecting the stars to make a constellation in the night. He looked at you blankly, lips set in stone, still a faint shade of pink, eyes lazy and waiting for you to put your hand in his. You could hardly see the red line around his iris, so dark it was fading into the darkness of his gaze. You watched the way his mouth opened only the smallest bit, take it, the words not even spoken so that it would only be caught by those looking at him and not heard. He blinked, slow, lashes matching the dark strands of his hair handing on his brow. 

You followed his command, scared he would take the pearls and tug you like the other one had. He was cold, skin silky smooth as your fingers graced his, not wanting to give him access to your palm as if that would make it any better to have your hand in his. “Careful of your skirt,” he muttered looking down at the way the fabric pooled on the ground, easy enough to step on while you made your way up the dias. Your free hand twisted in your dress, picking it up so that you could have your slippered steps unblocked as you followed him. He did not pull you along, did not lead you, he was there as someone to make sure you did not fall and that was it, dropping your hand the second that you made it up safe. 

Next to him on the armrest of his chair, a loop was welded in, the perfect spot to hook your pearls to and make sure that you wouldn't run. But he did not attach it, only let you stand there like some coat rack next to a door. Your lips pursed, you had been told not to cry, warned over again that it was not something they wanted to see; you were to be grateful, not tearful. 

But Sunghoon could scent the saltiness building behind your eyes, could tell you were about to cry just by the way you had been shot through with sadness in a second. He had no way to make it better, not when they still had an hour to sit in the throne room to watch the rest of the gifts brought in. From all over people had traveled to give solstice gifts to the crown for good favor. He had no time to get away and he knew the second they dismissed everyone he would have to explain himself to you. He could already predict the way you would smell then, the sadness maybe even twinged with disappointment, that's how they usually were. 

And it wasn't as if you didn't smell divine to him already. He wanted to taste you, his father was right, you were the sweetest he had ever come across, but this was still overtaken by fear. And now being closer to you he could feel the ache in his fangs more prominently, a twinge that hurt along his gums. But it faded when the tears threatened. 

You stood there, looking out over the people, watching as they came up one by one and gifted things, placing them on a pile at their feet. You should have been tossed right amongst the jewels and lavish wines tainted with blood. You were no better than the spoils they collected now, only you had a heartbeat they were kind enough to recognize and put to the side as ‘extra special’ but it was only a ruse. 

It took forever for them all to finally be dismissed for dinner and it was then that real panic began to sink in. You watched the way they picked themselves up, working their way out the door chatting, and going over what was waiting for them in the dining room. But your eyes were glued ahead watching how freely they walked, watching how they went left and not right where you knew the kitchen was tucked away for the feeders and remaining unused by the rest of them. If he took you out the same way you could run, head right and since your pearls were in front of you it might be easier to slip by without being tugged back. 

But it was a pipedream you knew as much and it's why the tears did not stop at your lashes but finally slid down your cheeks without a sound. 

“For tonight could I gain permission to skip over this feast?” The prince's voice was heavy, the question sinking into you like a stone thrown into the lake. He wanted you alone. 

“Of course,” it was no secret from the king the struggle Sunghoon had. It was less a secret how much he had tried to rectify the situation. You were the last option in a long list of failures, the king did not need his people watching the way his son would react if he could not take in even a mouthful of one of the most tempting feeders found in over a century. 

His finger touched the tip of your elbow, a light command for you to follow after him as he stood up. He lifted his hand out again for you when you reached the steps, your sniffling loud even to your own ears as you pressed your fingertips to his, letting him lead you down the way you had come up. “And Sunghoon,” it made the boy next to you pause in his tracks, the edges of his lips dipping, lips pursed as he waited for his order, “try this time,” 

“Of course father,” but even you could tell it was strained, half said because he was expected to. 

The prince did not grab your pearls only expecting you to follow behind him as his footsteps echoed in the hall, so much louder than your soft slippers they had given you. Something that you had realized was so that you wouldn't run; in the woods, you would need more than something so easily pierced through by a lone thorny branch. The thought of escaping only passed briefly once, your heart rate quickening at the idea made Sunghoon turn around, the doors already closed to the throne room, but it didn't mean his father would not be able to hear him. “No,” he didn't need to elaborate, not when you were so clearly turned to not follow him. 

“I-” but he cut you off with a shake of his head, waving a pale hand in the direction of the stairs. 

He did not move until you did, waiting for you to make it next to him before he continued his ascent up to wherever it was he was planning on keeping you. The castle was too large for you to remember the turns he had taken before reaching his room. Your mind was overrun with the fear of what would happen the second he closed the doors behind the two of you to focus on the left and right turns. Your breathing was coming out in huffs more focused on coming out through your nose, every drawl in from your lungs feeling erratic and strange. 

The hallway to his rooms was long and dark, none of the candles lit as you felt your feet start to drag, every step slower and slower as he pushed open his door. He stood there with his arm extended, half in the dark, a soft glow of the fire inside fanning over his pale skin. He did not pressure you to go forward, let you stand there and look at him, trying to catch your breath, trying to right your mind and not turn around again to run. “I just want to talk,” he spoke low so that you wouldn't get scared by the sound. 

If before you had found yourself to be caged they were testing how easy it was to recapture you now, how easy it was to get you to follow commands. But you had nowhere else to go so shakily you raised your hand to wipe at your tears, nodding as you made the last few steps towards his door. You don't want to touch him as you pass but it's inevitable in the small space, shoulder brushing his chest. It makes you shudder, you try and pull yourself together but the sound of the door closing behind you is enough to make it worse. The tremble cascading down your limbs that even the warmth from the fire does not help to calm. 

The space is large enough to have been the biggest room you had ever seen, taking up more space than even the one they kept you in before with some of the other girls. The fireplace itself is larger than the one in your local town's bar, neatly tended and cleared of ash. A neat set of a couch and chairs sat right in front of the flames, perfect to cozy up and read from the bookshelf that was tucked into the corner. It was dark, the windows covered with the same thick red velvet curtains as the rest of the castle. It blocked the moonlight you're sure would have been coming in to cast the bed in a silver glow. 

To the far corner, there was an archway into a bathroom, the tub partially covered with a dark wood divider. There was only one other door, half hidden behind the sheer canopy of the bed was right next to a dark nightstand with a book, left open with a thin-bladed letter opener as the bookmark. You could hear the girls telling you how lucky you were to be given to the prince of all people, not a lesser royal aristocrat with no space but to send their feeder back down to the waiting hall next to the kitchen where they had first brought you. 

But even that had felt better than this. You would have been amongst humans like you, not stuck so far from where everyone was that you would have to pray you could find a way out. And it wasn't your room, it was his room that you were invading. The sheets were still slightly rumpled from where he must have been sitting before leaving. It made your stomach turn again, even if you had shared with all those other girls you wouldn't have been trapped as severely as you were now. 

But Sunghoon did not move further into the space after closing the door, the survey of the room was quick so that you wouldn't have your back to him. And there he stood taking you in his hands by his sides, palms turned up. “I'm not going to feed from you, not now, and even if my father asked me to try I won't, not unless you want that but I can tell it's not in the cards right now,” he gets the words out in a rush, “the room is mostly yours now, you can have the bed, it's better than what they expected you to sleep on but I have no qualms about taking the spare room,” he nods to the door half hidden, “I won't bother you, and later we can have the wardrobes switched so that you have the space,” 

The shock was quick, he was giving up the space for you, a prince shoved in a closet and for what? To make you feel less scared? It wouldn't change the situation, it wouldn't make you come around. “I don't want your pity,” it was the only word you could think of to classify the situation. It felt like pity, it was more than you had thought or asked for but it didn't make you any less fearful. 

“It's not pity-” 

“What is it then? Some kind of truce? A scheme? If you're going to take my blood, just take it and get it over with, pretending you won't will only make it worse,” the words are bitter to your tongue but they come out just as you had wanted them. His brows drew close, lips downturned. If you were to be nothing but a blood bag to him you didn't need to be treated nicely, you knew the truth of the situation and it was not in your favor. Let him take from you, let him be a monster but you would not let him play nice when he was anything but. Giving you the bed was not a bandage to the situation but something to make it feel as if you owed him for this small grace. 

“I'm not pretending, I do not want to feed from you, and so I won't. Believe me or not I do not care but I'm not going to shove you in the closet like some petty gift I did not like and won't remember until next spring. You can have the room and it's for my own conscience that is true but also because it's right,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, taking the long way around the edge of the room so as to not get close to you, your eyes following him as he goes. “We can talk in the morning,” it's the last thing he says before he picks up his book from the nightstand, closing it around the blade you wished you could have kept before disappearing behind the door. 

The soft slam is enough to make you let out a breath, the huff bringing forth a new wave of tears as you shake your head, ashamed to be crying in the first place. You didn't want to lay in his bed, not when it was still wrinkled and near the door he had gone through. You didn't want to sleep at all, not here, not when you didn't know what would happen when you closed your eyes. But you did know you wanted warmth so you curled yourself up against the bookshelf near the fire. Your back was guarded and both doors in your eyeline as you tried to get yourself to stop crying. 

Sunghoon could hear the constant stream of tears, his book tossed to the floor next to him while he looked up at the ceiling from where he lay in bed. The tingle in his gums had gone, his stomach sick as he took in the unease of the situation. He didn't think he would have left you alone to cry but it had felt like the only thing he could do with everything he had been given. He wanted to say sorry, apologize for everything but not knowing if that was the right thing to do.Leaving you felt right, staying in the small bed, the small room, felt right. He didn't need the space anyway, didn't want it, and he could care less about anything else so long as you didn't think he was some hungry monster looking to drain you dry when it was farthest from the truth. 

But it was impossible to convey that to you when you were so terrified, he could tell you were on the brink of giving up, that if he had turned away from you for even a second you would have run off. It was easy to let you go, he wanted you to have what you wanted but if you ran he would have to explain your absence. They would know it was a lie if he said he overfed to the point of you dying, he wouldn't smell like you not even faintly, he wouldn't have a body to prove it, and it was almost an impossible thought with his track record. If his father thought for a second that Sunghoon had fed so much as to kill a feeder he would have been ashamed for wasting a gift that he could have kept to keep him sustained for years. 

He could not just let you go without consequence for that action, he needed to let you go after explaining that you were not the one. But his father had gifted you to him in front of so many people. Sunghoon knew that even if he could not feed from you, he would be told to keep you even if it was to show off a lie. People questioned why Sunghoon wasn't around at feasts, questioned what kind of king it would make him if the time ever came if he could not indulge like the rest of them. His father hadn't called him weak but he could see the word in his eyes when he confessed time and time that he could not drink from a vein. 

They had given you pearls, that royal leash a life sentence whether you knew it or not. You would be tied to him until he found a way to get you out but running right now was not an option. And just like him he could tell that you got no sleep, your heartbeat never slowing down, the fear still keeping its constant trek through your bloodstream. He could not stop thinking it over, listening to your soft crying, it only made him feel like he was turning himself inside out keeping you here. He didn't want to be a captor, didn't want to be the person who was tied to another just because it was expected of them. 

And when he saw you there, sitting watching the fire before you noticed him he could see the beauty behind the teartracks. They had made it so that you would look like a goddess, a blessing for him that would keep on giving, and yet neither of you felt very blessed. Not when you noticed him move just enough to catch your attention. Your heart is hammering as you push yourself to stand on weak legs. Your eyes lined in sleep, hand twisted in the dangling pearls that fell right to your navel. 

“You must be hungry,” even if he could not feel the hunger anymore he knew that others kept up a comfortable schedule with the feeling if it went past curtain times. “I can take you down to the kitchen or I can have someone bring your meals here, whatever it is you want,” 

You caught onto the hope of seeing the kitchen, of walking past a window to feel the sun, of being so close to the exit you knew. “The kitchen,” you kept his eye, trying to show him that you were watching him, but it felt like you were playing a game of who would back down first, a game you didn't think you would win at all. 

“And after?” he tilted his head, his clothes wrinkled from his resting, the hollows of his eyes showing faint bruises from restlessness. 

“After?” Sunghoon didn't need to scent your blood or hear your heart when you had the fear written so clearly all over your features. 

“I don't find it fun to be locked up in the room all day, if you wanted to go to the library, the gardens, wherever it is I can take you,” 

It felt like an illusion of freedom, he would not leave you alone, you were nothing more than a prisoner with her guard going around from room to room before he took his payment at the end of the day. But the gardens sounded enticing, and learning about the castle felt enticing. If going around and looking at every corner of your cell to find a loose bar you could slip from was an option you would take it, watched or not. He had not come out of the room all night, you had waited and he did not once even try the door knob. If you could find a way out today, finally count the turns on the way down and up you would be able to sneak out tonight. Your wardrobes were not switched and you could take anything you needed to make yourself unrecognizable before leaving. 

Your fingers twisted in the pearls, tight enough for you to feel the pull as if leading yourself to speak. “The gardens…” 

Sunghoon nodded once, “We can go after you have had a proper meal,” he gave you space to get yourself ready and waited by the door for you when you were done. He held the door open for you again just as he had when letting you in. and this time you made sure to know the way down not needing to know the way back up. You counted the right turns, the left, the amount of stairs you took, and where the kitchen doors were. 

But you weren't hungry, too busy thinking over the map in your head and how it was forming along with all the other information you were keeping, like how many people you had passed. Left, right, right, stairs, left, right, left, door. It seemed so easy but you knew if you were scared it would flicker out like a candle near an open window. Sunghoon collected things for you, taking the basket with the two of you as he led you down to the gardens. 

You had believed for a long time vampires could not step foot in the sun and that would have made all of this so much easier if it was true. But the vampires were only annoyed in the sunlight, eyes sensitive but not to the point they could not see. And most of the time it was grey in the sky, the clouds low most mornings just like this one where the fog settles over the emerald green hedges. Here they did not have to worry much about the direct sunlight because there hardly was any around. 

The fresh air was more than enough to make you relish in one small victory on a growing list of losses. Even with the soft mist clinging to your lashes, cooling your heated cheeks it was enough to make you crack a sad smile. It had been so long since you felt anything besides worry and panic. But your smile didn't last for long, not when you lowered your head and could feel the weight of the pearls still around your neck. As much as they had become a habit to hold it was not a comfort but a reminder of being stuck and bound to them. 

Sunghoon watched the way you toyed with the necklace, not even noticing that you were doing it as you watched the sunset later in the day. He did not ask when you wanted to go in, did not ask if you wanted to go anywhere else, just gave you the space to breathe even just a little bit. But he watched how your fingers tightened when it was finally dark, your food untouched in the basket he carried back up to the room. He placed it down on the nightstand when the two of you made it back. 

Your nerves were on high alert being in private with him and he could tell. “You should try to eat and get some rest tonight, tomorrow we have to spend dinner with the others, and it's best to be ready,” 

Dinner, vampires didn't eat anything else to sustain themselves. You knew they could but it did little to help curve their hunger. Most of them drank from a vein or a glass tainted with liquor, most of them enjoying blood laced with wine. But you knew that they would not be sitting around sipping from glasses over light conversation. Sunghoon didn't know how to explain his plan without confessing how burdened he felt. “I didn't lie when I said I wouldn't drink from you, I will keep my promise but we are still expected at the table,” 

You watched the way he swallowed, his lips turned down. He felt small, the confession right at the edge of his tongue but it would not come free, “I-” he watched the way your knuckles flexed, fist twisted around the contract the two of you had found yourself bound to. And he couldn't even hold up his end of the deal. “I'll find somewhere else to sleep tonight,” 

But Sunghoon had nowhere else to go, if anyone found him outside his room they would gossip. His father would hear eventually and know that he had not tried, he would know he had failed again over something so small, something that was supposed to be so natural. And so he sat right outside the door, hoping that thinking of him being somewhere else even if he was still a doorway away would help you find even a wink of sleep. But he could hear the sound of your pacing footsteps working round and round the room. 

You worried at your lip, tugging at the pearls around your neck and trying to pull them free for even a moment's breath. He said he wouldn't try unless you said he could, he said he wouldn't but you had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth. You hardly knew him at all, didn't know if he was known for being deceptive and you could not afford to be lied to, not when it felt so lasting to be here. You would not only have to live with being fed from but would have to live with being played for the rest of the time you were sitting around here. 

And it wasn't even about being bitten. You knew that you had given yourself up to it, knew it the second you had let them pick you up without saying anything, you had turned in so much to be here and you would sit here and try to make it okay. Tomorrow it would not surprise you if he lied and bit you right there at the table in front of them all, it wouldn't surprise you if he went back on what he said because you expected it. And at this point, it did not matter anymore because your mind was working again and again, be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.  

You would have to be grateful, stomach the upset, and swallow your pride. So you sat at the side of his bed, sinking into the mattress just enough to know that if you fell back it would envelop you like the petals of a flower. And you felt so tired after being up for so long. And even with the soundtrack of your mantra ringing around in your skull you picked up the same rhythm of the floor plan. Said it again and again like counting sheep, laying over the sheets that still smelled of him. That faint scent of white flowers was sweet and alluring. 

It was upsetting to like the way the smell of him made you feel. Vampires were made to be the kind of beings you could not resist even if your body was telling you that something was not quite right about the situation. You knew fight or flight and being in a room full of them only triggered the sense. But here, warm in his bed, looking up at the canopy that he must have looked up to a thousand times, resting your head on his sweet smelling pillow you could not find it in yourself to want to run. Not until after you rested at least. 

But you did not tuck yourself in, facing the door and watching the handle as if that would provide you comfort with your eyes closed. You breathed in, deep and swallowing the scent you drifted off, half awake for your body wouldn't let you fall into true sleep. Sunghoon could tell this as he leaned against the wall, half wishing he would have gone into his new bed to rest but if you were to get little sleep so would he. He wanted you to trust him, not to trick you but just so that he could show his true intentions. 

So early before you had even snuck to take a quick bath without him around, he went to the kitchen and collected as many red fruits as he could, dark crimson cherries, the beads of a pomegranate, and the soft easily ground raspberries, anything that would stain his lips the color of wine. He folded them up into a soft cloth, tucking them behind his back as he went back up to the room. By then you were already changed and watching the door, waiting for him. 

But he did not burst in through the door as you had expected since this was his room and only partially yours, no, he knocked, knuckles light on the hardwood, he could have been confused with a branch hitting the side of the house with a soft breeze. The soft patter of your heart quickened nonetheless. Shoulders tightening, limbs locking, your flight was slowly turning to freeze without your permission. 

“You can come in,” the words were necessary but sickening to pull forward. 

Sunghoon was rumpled, eyes soft as he looked down at his hands revealing the bundle of fruit. He had crushed a cherry on his walk up when he passed a staff member, the juice slipping down his palm and wrist. You had only seen the red for a brief moment, the faint trail of it having your attention before he opened his hands for you to see the rest. “I know it's crazy,” he already felt small even suggesting his plan. 

This wasn't something that was expected of a prince, of any vampire. It was something that he had done when he was young, hiding away from the truth and still believing that his father couldn't tell he wasn't getting enough in his system. It felt worse letting someone in on his secret. “For the dinner, you're going to have to put some of these fruits in the mesh cuffs you have on. If they are already stained they won’t think anything of it,” 

It didn't make any sense to you as to why he would go to such lengths to keep up his promise to you. You could feel yourself pushing back at his kindness, he was slotted in your mind as an enemy and any amount of niceties would not place him anywhere else. “When it's time I'll grab your wrist and bite the fruit not you,” 

“Why?” your confusion was a mix of distaste and curiosity, your brows drawn together as you looked at his red-stained fingers. “Why not just bite me and get it over with?” 

He swallowed thickly, throat bobbing as he dropped any eye contact he had held with you. You took the opportunity to look over the moles on his face, finding the trail of them, already remembering as if it had been the map out of this room, only you didn't need to repeat it to yourself; it was as if you had already known the path. “I don't want your blood,” he clenched his jaw after he said it as if that was too much to have slipped out in the first place. 

You don't know why it felt like he had slammed a door in your face, the weight of it heavy and fitting so neatly against its frame. It shouldn't have hurt, your mind trying to recoil from the pain you shouldn't feel and yet did. You had wanted to be the one to twist the lock, press your back against the wood, and keep your feet planted. But here he was doing it all on his own. And before you could ask again, the why so close to being dropped between you like a thin glassed champagne flute, he left you with nothing but the maroon cloth stuffed with fruit and your waiting question. 

Before it had felt as if you had been given some kind of grace to work with. He had said he wouldn't feed from you like it was a gift you should thank him for. But now he was standing in front of you and saying he didn't want your blood, not that it was something he was holding himself back from. The words were settling over you and tightening around your limbs, you shouldn't feel anything except relief not worry about something being wrong with you. There was no reason to be thinking over this when you didn't want it in the first place, no reason to let the confession sink you so low. 

But you would do what you needed to do nonetheless, turning around and tucking the fruit against the mesh at your wrist. He would have his mouth there, close to your vein in only a few hours and it set your nerves aflame. Not only would it be him around but everyone else, the other vampires who would have teeth stained with blood instead of fruit. You would see the other feeders, the ones that you were supposed to be replicated after. You would see what rumor had been real, would it hurt them, or would it feel like bliss? 

Either one felt like a death sentence, slowly losing one's self with or without you noticing, one tricking you into believing it was okay and the other tearing you apart. It was all you could think about when he finally came back, his clothes changed and hair done to hang perfectly around his face. He first looked down at your wrists, laid next to you at your side neatly hiding the faint stain showing up. “It shouldn't take too long,” he whispered, fingers playing with the pearls slung across his chest. 

It was the first time you had seen such a chain on him, it matched your pearls perfectly, the latch made so that he could hook you up to follow him without him having to tug you along with his own hands. It wasn't fear that was slinking through you now but anger, hot and ashamed. “You're not tying me up,” you drew the line there, he could bite you all he wanted before he found you chined to him with anything more than a speech written contract. 

You backed up, legs hitting the bed and stilling you in your place. “I'm not going to be paraded around like that, like I'm a purse at your side, a dog at your feet,” you spit the words, letting them land at his feet and sticking to the world around you. It already felt like a curse to have the stupid chain around you no matter how expensive, no matter how pretty it was, nothing more than a reminder for him that you were little in comparison to him. 

“I didn't say you would be, I have to wear it, I don't have to use it,” he tugged on his own pearls looking down at them for the first time, “they want us down soon and I want to go over the plan again,” he looked up, catching your eyes to make sure you were listening. You nodded to let him continue, “I won't bite you, my fangs won't even come out, I just need to stain my mouth and your wrists, nothing more and nothing less, okay?” 

“Okay,” you would have to believe him now more than ever, this was a test that both of you would have to pass for both of you to feel comfortable in the situation. The trust is stretched thin enough to fall apart or be strengthened. 

Sunghoon could tell you were scared the second he was at his seat with you next to him sitting on his armrest. If he had even been tempted to feed tonight it would have been washed away the second the others came in and you were faced with them and their bruised necks and wrists. The faint puncture marks made by fangs over and over again only looked worse in the candlelight. Your hands twisted in your lap, wrists turned in so that no one could see the stains already made. Sunghoon wanted to say anything to calm your nerves, whisper it if only someone would not be able to hear but he could not. 

His father sat next to him at the head of the table, already ready to get the dinner over with as fast as the two of you did. He didn't want to see his son make a fool of himself if he couldn't even try to drink. He had seen Sunghoon unable to let his fangs down, watching him pull away with hardly a drop on his lips before he had to leave. He didn't care if he was putting him on the spot now with trying but he needed to know that he could get it done, needed to know he would make an effort as much as he could. 

But you could hardly pay any attention to anything else besides the girl in front of you. Dressed as you were, the gauzy fabric of her dress flowed around her like a breeze while she took her seat at her vampire's armrest. She didn't seem scared, she seemed excited to sit there, leaning back against him. Her faint smile was hazy, looking from his hand in hers. It didn't settle your fears but set them in stone, her wrist covered like yours, dots of blood staining the mesh. 

But It felt wrong to witness them the second the meal started, the intimacy shocking you more than the feel on sunghoons hand on your arm. In this room he was the only constant, his soft fingers tapping against your skin to get your attention. But it was hard to turn away the second the man in front of you flashed his fangs, the sight of them making your knees weak in the worst way. The soft hum of approval from the feeder he sank his teeth into slid across the table in a wave. Her lashes fluttered, pressing her wrist closer to his mouth without even having to be asked. She wanted it to happen, wanted him to take the long sips he was indulging in. No one was paying any attention to Sunghoon and you when they were so consumed by their own meals. 

Sunghoon slid his hand down to your wrist, the feeling traveling up to your elbow, the hair on the back of your neck rising as he looked up at you for approval. Sitting like this, with you higher, looking down on him and his asking gaze, you felt like drowning. Because for a split second, you wanted to know what it felt like, hoped that in some way you would know even just a little bit without him going too far, taking too much. And you were scared that with one look he would know you were thinking about him in that way, thinking about him doing the one thing he said he would not because of you but because he didn't want to do it.

Every soft movement he made with your hand in his was torture, fear slinking back into you, the spicy scent of it flooding his senses. He was so close to having your wrist at his mouth, your eyes stuck on him as he pulled up the mesh just enough so that he could make it look like he could get his teeth into place, the fruit trapped in the fabric. 

Your breathing was pulling closer together, each puff tumbling into the next, mouth slightly open as you watched his lips part. He didn't take his eyes off you, teeth in a neat row already looking as if they were tipped with fangs but unlike the man across from you, they did not elongate. His lips ghosted over your pulse point, the thrumming of your rushing blood soft against his mouth as he took in the first raspberry, the crunch mimicking the way it would have been when piercing into your skin. If you had to play the part you did it well, gasping as if it had been you he had bitten, shocked by the way his lips felt so gently against your delicate skin.

He pressed in further, hand wrapped around yours as you curled your fingers around his. The pitted cherry was next to find its demise at his sharp teeth, the juice of it slipping down your arm like a thin line of freshly spilled blood. Your free hand twisted in your skirt, watching the way he faked the look of pleasure from that first bite. 

You shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't feel like you wanted him to just slip up, have his teeth scrape against your skin if even just a scratch. And he was so gentle with you, lips pressed like a soft kiss, feeling the warmth of you against him made him hum, it had been so long since he had felt heat like this so close to him. He tried to keep his teeth as far away from you, he didn't want to scare you much less make it seem like he was on the verge of lying. Because he might have been lying to everyone but he couldn't lie to you, not when you needed the truth the most. 

Sunghoon watched the way you wet your bottom lip, watching his mouth, his throat as he swallowed. It felt dangerous and intimate, twisted in deception and staining his judgment. And for a second, the width of a hair, he could smell your blood go clean, whether it was in his imagination being this close to you or reality he had to pull away. And the spicy sweetness flooded over him again when you saw the way his mouth was stained like he had glass after glass of red wine. He licked his lips, wiping at the edge of his mouth, and tried to stomach the faint ribbons of hunger unraveling in his stomach. 

He tried to ignore it, ignore the fact he knew it was wrong, and yet how wrong could it be to hope that you could curb his hunger even if it was only an inkling of the feeling? But the memory of the way he had rejected the last drop of spiced blood was still fresh in his mind. He would not try again, not now, and not when you hadn't offered. But you had been pressing back on his mouth, pressing your wrist to him like you wanted him to do it or maybe it was his own delusion teasing him with the idea. 

And you would not look at him with his lips tinted a new shade of pink, the crawling on your skin closer to light touches and not the feel of spiders. He had not lied, he had kept his word and you didn't know what to do with that. 

You kept your distance on the way back to the room, distracted enough to climb into his bed the second he had gone to his. You didn't fight the sleep that came over you either, the days of unrest coming back to have you pay your dues. Nothing was without a price it seemed because even in sleep you were plagued with the reality of the day. In your dreams, you begged Sunghoon to bite you; held your wrist out for him, and let him take your blood. You could see his fangs and watched them right before he pushed them into you. The pain felt blinding, racing up your arm until it circled your heart, squeezing until you felt yourself snap up in bed, half a scream caught in your throat. 

Panting you held your hand over your heart, skin slick with the cold sweat you had broken out into only seconds ago that had felt like an eternity. Your subconscious was telling you no to the temptation pushed in front of you. You knew vampires held a power to pull people in, knew them to use it against even the strongest of people. And now you understand it all. He was calling on something deeply instinctual inside you, the surface layer of it making you fearful but whatever was underneath was dangerous and bewitching to your right mind. 

You could not go back to sleep after you were up already. Sitting with your back against the headboard waiting for him to come out of his room while you tugged on the pearls at your neck, not strong enough to pull them free. For a short time, you had even walked over to his bookshelf to look through the boring titles he had stocked up. No more letter openers waiting between the pages as you flipped through tome after tome. It's why the second he came out from the little room he had been sleeping you asked him to go to the library. 

Sunghoon was surprised by you asking him to go anywhere, you wouldn't talk to him if you didn't have to and you knew not to leave the room without him unless you did have a plan to escape. He jumped on the opportunity to please you, a silent thank you written into the action for the night before. 

He could not stop thinking about your soft gasp, the way you had watched him so closely. He had grown up with so many people's eyes on him, watching every little move he made and scrutinizing every wrong turn. It was not uncommon for any aristocrat, even one held as high as he was to want one moment without eyes on them. During feedings had been one of the few moments of peace he could have in a room full of people, that was until people started to watch out to make sure he was getting food in his system. But you did not make him feel nervous, did not make him feel as if he needed to be ashamed of what he was, of what he could not do and tried so hard to accomplish. You had watched him in awe. 

He liked to have your eyes on him, watching the way they fell to each spot on his face, the one right under his eyes, to the one on the side of his nose, and down to the edge of his lips. Your eyes lingered, tracing the shape of his mouth, the line he ran over his bottom lip with his tongue. He wanted you to look at him like that again because if you could persist he could drink his fill of your features, trace the line of your nose, the shape of your eyes, your lips, without fearing that you would get too scared to look at him ever again. 

When you looked at him like that he was not the monster he felt you saw him but just a boy trying to find his footing amongst the rest of them just like you were. He hated to know what your blood smelled like fearless, the sweetness enough to ache his teeth in just the right way, the kind of temptation that he was told to stay away from indulging so fiercely in.

But it was a distant scent, gone as quickly as it had shown up and yet he was stuck thinking about it as he sat with you in the library. He had given you space, let you go around and around to find whatever it was you wanted to look at. Finding his seat to rest with his book but his mind did not stop moving, he watched you; followed the invisible trail you drew with your movements. You traced your finger over the spine of each book you came across, reading the names to yourself. He tried to guess the next one you would pick, stacking up the titles that seemed to have grabbed your attention enough for you to pull it from the shelf in the first place, looking for a correlation if there was any except the face they had caught your eye. 

You were calmer here in the new space, even when there was not much sunlight except for a small window set into the ceiling. Just the small bit of light it let through even on a grey day was better than nothing at all. And you felt better having Sunghoon sitting around knowing he had held himself back even after being so close to your vein, even when around all the blood in the room. But it didn't put you at ease, not entirely with your dream still so close to the surface of your mind. You had never felt pain as you had imagined while asleep but even just a touch of that pain would have felt all consuming. 

Picking up a book you skimmed the first few pages, flicking between the yellowing pages catching the smell of aged paper and ink stopping randomly on a page you did not care to read. You had the intention to find a book to read but it didn't have to be instantly and Sunghoon was giving you enough space to take all the time you needed to find one. But you could spend so long just doing exactly that, turning to random pages looking for something to pull your attention long enough to want to start from the beginning. And just as you started to find that interest you slide your finger along the single page you had in hand. 

It was quick, the pain didn't even register until it was too late. The bubbling of blood bright red and nauseating. It was nothing but a thin line, right across the pad of your pointer finger, slicing the fingerprint in half like the visual representation of you being split down the middle. You felt heavy right at your center, a fist around your stomach, churning up your worry while the rest of your limbs felt so separate and far away. 

Sunghoon could smell the blood as soon as that first bead donned your finger, pricked like a sleep-entrance princess. The cinnamon sugar scent you had been carrying turned gingery and intense around the room in an instant. Chest heaving you stood frozen watching how the line darkened with each passing second. He didn't want to make it so obvious that he was making his way to you but there was no way around it when he was in front of you, wrapping your finger up in his handkerchief instead of delighting in your slip up. 

“It's okay, it's small, nothing too bad,” he tried to soothe, your hand curling around his, clenching around the cloth as if it was the only thing keeping you from that pain made from your dreamscape. Vampires were strong, you're sure that if he wanted he could rip the handkerchief in two without any struggle, just as easily as he could have split your skin like the thin sheet of paper with the edge of one fang. The fabric was keeping nothing from him, not while it soaked in the color of your blood like it would wine, the stain so close to the raspberries that had been left on your mesh cuffs only the night before. 

It was hard not to think of him as you had in your dream, but here there were no fangs present, just his understanding eyes and steady hand in yours. It was not as it had been in your mind with him lunging for the opportunity to hurt you. Having him this close to you made the power of him flood your mind. Every time he got near you found yourself leaning in and not away, the time together only bringing him closer past the borders you had built around yourself.

You tried to remind yourself that this is what they did, lured you in, with their intoxicating aura, cunning and clandestine. But even as you said it to yourself, let the warnings ring out like a dinner bell. You couldn't make the thought stick any more than you could the idea that you needed to be grateful. For this small second, you were nothing more than just someone who couldn't take their eyes off of the person in front of them. Needing to be closer, needing to find whatever it was you were missing in yourself and get it from him. 

The papercut was so far removed from your mind, everything blurring as you leaned closer, breathing in the same air as he did, each inhale slowing your pulse until you were just about to press your lips to his. The ghost of him just brushing your mouth is the kind of feeling that would haunt you for years to come. Both of you tugged away from the other as the sound of the library door opening echoed, the quick slink of the guillotine cutting the moment away almost as fast as it had started. 

The realization of what had almost happened was blinding, cutting across your vision and clearing your head as you turned away from looking at him. You had read about vampire compulsion and knew that even if they were not trying it could slip free and confuse even the strongest person. You refused to believe it was you alone who had leaned in, refused to believe it was you who had wanted him to be so close to you in the first place. But you could not stop thinking about the round shape of his bottom lip, thinking about how it would fit so perfectly between your own. 

“Dinner is soon my prince, I was told to give you fair warning,” the butler who had come in muttered, Sunghoon giving his full attention to him as if he could not bring himself to look at you. All you could focus on was the numbing of your fingers from how hard you held them, tightening and tightening with each passing second that you had to think about what had almost happened. 

Wanting to kiss him was unlike wanting to be bitten by him. Being bitten was in your contract, what you had been told would happen between the two of you. Being kissed was not something that should have been crossing your mind when he was going to be the person to ruin you. You could live with him taking your blood, knowing that if anything happened between the two of you that would be it. But the magnetism was not only calling the iron in your veins but pulling back your steely inhibitions. 

So much so that when you found yourself on the edge of his chair that same night, raspberries tucked in the stained mesh cuffs, pressing your wrist to his mouth without him even having to ask. His fingers curled around yours the same way, holding your hand, and wishing he was leaning back in, just enough to breathe in the same air again. Because even Sunghoon could feel his resolve tumbling down the cliff of his restraint, slowly chipping away at the hold he had because his gums ached, throat sore, his teeth scraping against your waiting vein. 

Your gasp was almost as sweet as he knew your blood would be flooding his taste buds. The need was shocking enough for him to pull away from you, keep your wrist at a distance because he was worried if he was any closer, if he smelled your blood go clean for even a second like the last time he would not be able to keep his fangs back. And he felt disgusted with himself from the thought of not being able to hold himself back. 

He did not want to be like the monster you must have thought that he was. Monster enough to not be able to stop himself and yet you were not thinking about him in that way. All you could think about was that you wanted it, wanted it so bad that you held onto his hand harder, waiting for him to bring your wrist back up. You could feel the part of your sanity leaving you, the part that had kept you in line long enough to think of an escape plan. 

The word makes you find yourself again because while you go back up the stairs you don't even think about remembering the way back down. And it's the first night that you don't worry about him coming out from his room while you sleep. The sheets now still partially smelling of you mixed with the faint intoxicating smell of him, the pillow lulling you to sleep without much effort at all. 

It was the first night you could feel the tiredness pulling in your limbs enough to where it didn't matter if you were scared it only mattered that you fell asleep. Aided by the ease you were feeling about wanting him closer to you than you should. 

Sunghoon could tell the second you were asleep, breathing evening out, heart rate slowing down but it was the sweetness that did him in. The scent curled through the air, his deep inhale made the smell coat his throat, his mouth filling with venom, gums burning, body shaking. He didn't even remember making it out of his room, the darkness of his shadow pooling over you as he was backlit but the dying flames in the fireplace. But he could see the soft line of your neck, the delicate curve leading to the back of your hairline, the shell of your ear. The thin skin covering your eyes, down the shape of your cheek until he was looking down your jaw back to the curve of your neck, right over where he could see the soft rhythm of your pulse. 

He didn't even feel himself open the door, his hands balled into fists by his sides, nails digging into his palms, knuckles whitening from the tightness. Watching the faint rise and fall of your sleeping chest, the way your lips parted just slightly. He could associate your mouth with wanting to bite you because of how often he found himself looking at your lips the second his teeth were close to your vein. 

And for the first time in what felt like years Sunghoon felt his fangs push through his gums, digging into the unfamiliar spots of the soft flesh of his inner lips. Because you were too sweet to hold back from, the just ripe scent of fresh raspberries and the soft decadence of vanilla.

He was telling himself to pull away, to get away from the edge of the bed, lock himself in his room, and think about nothing else, think about everything that had nothing to do with you and your enticing blood. But he could not stop the thoughts from invading his brain; if before he had been physically sick he knew that this was a different kind of plague overtaking him. The kind that would have him stop at nothing to get to you, the kinda they wrote about in dystopian books about chaos and destruction. He felt like every bit the monster you must believe him to be and yet he could not find it in himself to care at all because he just wanted one taste, the smallest bit, a drop if anything else. 

It takes everything in him to stop from reaching out one finger, he wants just to feel the flutter of your pulse, just to know that there, underneath your unresisting skin was the warmth and cure to his hunger that he had not even known that he had been searching for. It had been so long since that he had even felt the soft fist in his stomach, the tightening working its way up his esophagus. The feeling was so close to how he believed it to feel for you that first day standing in the hall, stuck there standing in the doorway trying to catch your breath. It's that image that makes him leave, the fear he had scented then, had seen written all over your face, your body. If it had taken you everything to step foot into his room he would give his all to walk away now. 

So he ran, half stumbling to get away from the bed, the canopy swaying around the bed you lay from how close he had been to giving in and taking from you and not leaving you with the trust you had been working to give him. The door slamming is what woke you, he had not meant it but he didn't know how much he was trying to keep his distance. If he had stayed just right outside he could have smelled the fear course through you in an instant but even then he was holding his breath to make sure not even a bit more of the temptation could slip past his restraint. 

But you sat up, heart picking up its speed as you looked around in the darkness, the embers in the fireplace glowing so low that they mixed in with the ash, fading down into nothing but a pale blanket of twilight. He was gone, you knew as much, his door half open could not have slammed itself. Your hand had found its way up to your throat, feeling the clammy coolness coming over you from the adrenaline finding its home around your joints and in your stomach. 

The pearls you wore were warm and unwanted, a reminder of exactly how your plan had been fumbled through fingers wishing to run through Sunghoon’s dark hair. You tugged on the necklace, the leash, pulled until you could feel the pearls dimpling your skin. It felt impossibly tight to think about wanting him when still bound like this. In a single glance, anyone would know that you did not belong anywhere except under the blood-hungry. If you broke the necklace and collected the pearlescent beads they would keep you sustained long enough to go far away from here. 

But in his bed, smelling the faint white floral scent of him surrounding you mixed with the heady perfume of the wood burned fire it was so difficult to pick yourself up and run. It was worse because you wanted him to want you. Why must it only be you who had to resist the pull from the other, shouldn't it have been the other way around? Didn't they tell you that he would have wanted- needed to have you around him? That he would crave you with everything in him after only a few feedings since vampires got so attached and territorial over their feeders. 

You had found yourself in a thorny bush, pinched and kept in place, any slight movement left you with the stinging pain of betrayal. Flowers were supposed to be pretty not painful and yet all you could feel were the sharp thorns. He was supposed to be in your place, stuck and begging to be released by you; your blood the shears to snip away the twisted branches. But he didn’t want you, no lasting desire woven into what was supposed to be a tapestry of temptation after temptation. 

There was no lying in the reason why you picked yourself up off the bed, even less when you felt the tears start. To be unwanted was worse than to be here wanted with his teeth in your vein because at least then you could pretend you didn't enjoy it or let yourself know how much you truly did enjoy it and just succumb. 

So you ran, did what you said you would, and stumbled down the empty hall washed in nothing but darkness. The curtains were drawn close, the plush velvet carpet that ran over the center of the hardwood soft and slippery under your barefoot. You didn't even notice you had left your shoes behind in the room, thin and slippered or not it would have been better than nothing. 

The castle groaned, the shudder of the wind hitting the stone was nothing short of frightful when gust after gust was shaking the trees lining the property. The rain pattered on the thick glass windows even if you couldn't see it, it echoed in the empty halls like a warning. But you couldn't stop yourself now, not when you knew that if you saw him even for a second you wouldn't want to go back, beg him to know why you, why not you? As the lightning started to crack, thunder rumbling felt underfoot as you pushed the doors open to the empty kitchen that you had been waiting to do. 

The glow that cut across the sky lit up the whole expanse of grass and trees, the stretched limbs of the winter empty branches twisted, curling, and frightening for the second that they had been exposed by the lightning. The thunder was so close that you could feel it sync up with the unease washing over you. The rain was too loud to think and if you stepped out you would be drenched and cold by morning. Frozen over like a lake in late January. The tears came harder than before wanting to be back in his room as a redundant decorative house plant he kept alive because watching it die would be more hassle. 

Sunghoon had gone all the way to the kitchen when he had left. Picking over the stocks of what they had to have them ready for you in the morning when you woke up. In some twisted sense of an apology for something you didn't even know he had done. And had tried to make sure that he could stop the hunger. Trying to stomach a handful of raspberries as if that would help him any but it would give him no sustenance. He could not go down to find a new feeder, refused to go out and try to find anyone who was willing because it had never felt right, he had never been hungry for anyone until you. 

His fangs wouldn't even go back up, not when he felt as if you were invading every part of him, his flesh so weak that he was yearning to be close to you. Not only did he want his mouth pressed to your neck to eradicate his hunger but so that he could let his lips find places to remember, places that would make you feel just as weak as he did. 

Then he knew you were there, the loud wash of the rain echoing in the kitchens the second you had pushed the door open. He had started to learn the rhythm of your heart just as he had known his own, softly beating faintly behind his ribcage making room to take you in without him even realizing it. He knew the only reason you would be down here was to run, he was not dense enough to believe you had wanted to stay all of the time, not when you were so fearful of him in the first place. He had known of only a few feeders who had regretted their decisions to come here and even then the stories were few and far between.  

He wanted you to stay and it wasn't only because he had found himself craving you but because he had been missing something for a long time. Not only this feeling but some kind of twisted friendship or even just acquaintanceship. He had never felt so lonely, not until he wasn't alone anymore. Having someone to match up his breaths with even if they were a room away felt better than sitting alone in his room with nothing and no one to think or lean on. 

And now you were leaving, standing just at the edge of the doorframe with the wind beating the rain down on you. Your dress already so thin had turned sheer with the wetness, your chin dripping with droplets of water and tears. He ached to see you so ready to run. He had never before begged for things that were outside of his control, he could find balance within the chaos of others' decisions because like so many he never had an option to change things on a whim like so many people before him. He knew being a prince set him up higher; people believed he had the world right at his fingertip but it was nothing but emptiness sitting around a fireplace waiting to feel the same kind of hunger as everyone else around you. 

He wanted you now even if he had said he wouldn't, he would let you go, he would- but his fingers curled around your arm tugging you inside, away from the pelting rain, and into the circle of his arms. You were soaked clean through, shaking in his grasp but instead of pushing you away, you pressed in further. 

You don't need anything more than to smell the faint white flowers that had been left on the pillowcases. You pulled him closer, the thin tunic he wore twisting in your grasp as you pressed your face into his chest, knowing you shouldn't and yet needing it nonetheless. It didn't matter if he was also getting wet just from holding you and you didn't care if his coolness was not warming you but making you shiver harder. “I don't want to leave,” it was so easy to say it this close when it felt as if it was only you and him and nothing in between. 

They were words you didn't think you would say out loud let alone words that you had come to fully understand until they were leaving you. But here right against him, where you really wanted to be, it was hard not to say them. 

“Don't go, you don't have to if you don't want to but if you want to leave I can find some way to make it happen,” the words felt wrong, he didn't want you to leave but he wouldn't let you suffer. But you only held on, shaking your head and letting him hold you. 

“I hate this,” you grit out, wishing you knew why you felt this way. You knew yourself and this was so consuming, this need for him to want you back. Before it would not have mattered, the steps down from his room to this very door would have been going around your head, Left, right, right, stairs, left, right, left, door, not the constant echo of his deep voice telling you, ‘I don't want your blood,’ the line itself had found a way to worm under your skin. That worm burrows holes in your sound-minded reasoning, your weak heart, and even weaker flesh. “I hate that I don't want to leave and I hate how you don't-” 

“How I don’t what?” Sunghoon was finding it hard to take in full breaths because instead of flooding with fear when in his grasp you were leveling out into calm serene. The swirling scent of you overwhelmed him, feet planted so stiffly and it was the only thing he could focus on this close trying to keep his fang back. 

You push away keeping your fists in his shirt, his arms still circling you if he let go you would be back out the door in the rain. But you only looked at him, taking in the sight of his dark eyes searching you for an answer you didn't want to confess to. Saying it out loud, asking him all your questions would pull you apart into nothing but empty bones hollowed out as cleanly as the promises you kept for yourself. You had said you would run, promised yourself that it would be so easy to get out if you just had the way and now you stood here in his arms like it was nothing at all. But it was clawing up your back, stringing itself across your shoulders and around your neck like a damned albatross you had been burdened with; forced on you by your own hands. 

But you couldn't keep it in anymore, the words spilling free like a knocked over glass of wine, deep and crimson, “I hate how you don't want me and I hate that even if your need is the only reason I'm here it should be a blessing and all I can think was that I was gifted a curse. I hate myself for wanting you so bad when you don't even think about wanting me,” 

The words were like the slamming of a door, the lock heavy and twisting true as he took in your admission. He had wanted nothing more than to prove you wrong, wanted everything in him to give in but he couldn't. Not like this with you on the verge of leaving, not when you feared him still if even only a little bit. He wanted to give you everything you wanted, he needed for nothing, not until he felt this bewitchment overtake him even now opening his mouth to get the words out he felt his gums tingling. 

Sunghoon had teeth that already faintly resembled fangs, the permanent outline to tell you exactly who he was even under all the promises not to bite you. But now, his lips only just parted. You watched as they elongated, they were only a bit longer, but you could see the definition. Seeing the others with their teeth in the other feeders had been scary, all the malice written over their faces even if it were only what you had painted in your minds over their lustful glances and soft hands. But now you could see why the other feeders had leaned in at the sight, turned their wrists and chins so willingly at the sight as if they were nothing but marionettes to be controlled by the sight of their vampire coming to take from them. 

Seeing him, brows tight, and ashamed, he looked nothing more than a boy looking for forgiveness at the knees of your confession and you wanted nothing more than to give him the grace he so desperately sought after. You leaned in, entranced by his becoming call, every mole on his porcelain skin leading you back to the soft shape of his eyes and the plush pink of his lips. 

You were magnetic, pulling him in closer to you, not even from the faint ripples of hunger but from the allure of your every passing breath where you looked at him like that. He did not care about what you had thought about him previously, not about anything else except this moment where you wanted him and he needed you. 

Just one brush of his lips against yours was all that he sought after. He was so close to kissing you just like he had been in the library, so near the edge of a cliff he could not fall from and ever return, if there had been any rope tied around him it was his sanity and it had gone slack snapping halfway down once he muttered, “all I ever do is crave you, my appetite so unfulfilled not only because I'm struggling to resist you right at this very moment but because there is nothing else, no one else I have ever wanted more than you. It feels so unreasonably dangerous to subject you to my burning need and yet…” he let the soft puff of breath fall over your lips, taking it in and swallowing it down as if it were a star you had trapped in a jar. 

He was so close when the thought passed over you, the fading memory of the reason why you had run. The split second was like ink in a pool of clear water, unraveling like the fingers you had fisted around his heart and soul because he could not take for you when you did not want it, not when he could smell that spicy sweetness mixing together. But even then he wanted to try, just a drop would do no matter the burn, he wanted it. 

But he did not kiss you, he led you back up to your room, clenching his jaw and holding his breath all the way back up the stairs. He kept his mind on the next step he had to take and not the way the fabric of your dress clung to your skin, not the way the soft roar of your blood was the only sound he could focus on even through the storm hitting against the walls. The second he had let you go to bed and he found himself in the privacy of his own small space he could not stop the thoughts. 

He was starving. Completely empty of anything he had ever felt before. He had believed he had known hunger back when he was young, believed he would never feel anything worse in his life because there was no cure. He had felt in his bones there was no cure except time and suppression but this hunger had broken something in him. He had believed himself a stone mountain, the waves of hunger hitting the side of him gone dry only now he was beginning to believe he had been hollow the whole time, a cave that had been shown the light after the tidal wave came tumbling through to make the echoing emptiness known. 

He had known of the desolate expanse of his insides but had never felt as if they ran so deep. But he was a mess of nothing but clawing realization, it wasn't just that he wanted you, it was that he felt as if he would die without you. How he had distanced himself for so long, how he found himself restraining even now was taking most of his thinking because if he listened in he could still hear the pitter patter of your half asleep heartbeat waiting for him in the other room. The soft sound mixed with the mewl of his name. 

You were calling for him, drunk on a dream you tossed in the sheets, the fabric twisting around your legs, bunching your dress around your hips as you turned. It was some kind of sense that let you know that he had left his room. Eyes flickering open seeing him half hidden behind the gauzy canopy. Everything felt so sudden the second you said his name in that breathy whisper again he was half hanging on by a thread, finding himself leaning over you all over again. 

He loved to see you like this, whining and laying back against his pillows, tucked under him with the sweet aroma of your trust wafting from your blood. “Sunghoon,” his name is like a plea for something only he could provide. Because he knew the feeling, your name in response was the only answer he could find as he took in inhale after inhale of temptation. His fangs ached as he held back. 

You lifted your hands until they cupped his face in your palms, pushing back his hair hanging by his ears. It had taken so little time to memorize his features even when you told yourself that you shouldn't have, but there was no way you could forget about a face like his. With one finger you trace across his nose, watching his lashes flutter, brows coming in together as he groans. Your finger seeks out the sound, not from his throat but at his lips, following the shape of his cupid's bow. 

There was no resistance as you pressed your finger between his lips and pressed against his fang. Your shocked gasp was followed by a flood of the spicy smell of your fear but for a moment your blood was clean of anything but sweetness. You watched as Sunghoon’s eyes went unsteady, hazy from that one drop. The wash of the taste took over everything he could think about and it did not fix any emptiness but widened a cavern of uncontrollable need. 

It was fast, his hips sinking into yours, keeping you locked in place, your finger gone from his mouth as both hands found homes in his hair, gently holding as you found yourself frozen still waiting for his next move. Because he was at your neck, fangs brushing over your pulse now beating erratically just beneath the surface of your thin skin. It was taking everything not to bite down, even just the faint tracing, the feel of how fragile it was to break through and take everything he had been waiting for. 

“Do it,” but it felt nothing short of wrong for him to hear those words coming from you. He wanted it, could feel the way he would have begged to have more, and yet he could not take it without knowing you wanted it truly. 

The coolness of his body pressed against you and the drag of his teeth sent a shiver down your body, arching up into him, giving more room for him to bite you. It was in that movement that you felt how hard he was for you. Your moving hips only make it known, your begging gasps not only for his mouth but all of him. “Please,” it was desperate and caught in the back of your mouth as you whined again. 

Everything about you was so consuming, the way your fear was replaced by the sweet smell of your arousal. Your hands pulled him in closer, legs opening to push him into the cradle of your hips. And then he bit down. 

It was a flood of pure unadulterated euphoria, the first taste had been nothing like this, sweet, yes, but not the sugary saccharine flavor that had now overwhelmed him to the point of uncontrollable pulls of mouthful after mouthful. He did not think that he could find a way to ever be full, not when all he wanted to do was drink. To devour you whole and never apologize for what he had done, monster or not. 

And for you, the venom was numbing bliss, body going slack and malleable in response, nerves set to feel every feather light touch he gave. He was curving into you, pressing you harder into the mattress as you hummed, that hazy moan rippling through the air as you finally understood why people gave up so much for this one feeling. Nothing would be able to top this, not when you were slipping into some unknown part of yourself and finding that nothing had ever felt better. You would let him go on until you could not think but it was easy enough to do that because thoughts came in half-formed sentences, everything was by touch and sensation, stripped down to nerves that only sought out pleasure. 

Sunghoon had practiced restraint all his life, he had never had to pull away from something or someone because he hadn't wanted to be there in the first place. But pulling away he found was harder than starting in the first place. Addicted in nothing more than half a second. But he knew he would have to stop and breathe, to let you breathe. His mouth stained red, he kissed over the puncture marks he had created, relishing in the tremble each brush of his lips made your body react with. “No, don’t stop-” the whine followed by the roll of your hips against him. “More, I need more,” 

“Just a second, too fast and I won't stop next time,” he kept his trail going, kissing and re-kissing over the bloodstains in the pattern of his lips from your jaw back down to your collarbone. He wanted to make a mess of you, teeth lightly scratching down the column of your throat loving the sound of your sensitivity. His body was trembling with the need to sink into you in any way he could consume you, body and soul. 

But it wasn't what you wanted, this whole time you had been waiting for this one moment, struggling to think you would enjoy it and now you were taught that you had been keeping yourself away from a feeling you never wanted to be out of. If he had asked for your wrist you wouldn't hold your hand behind your back but press it to his mouth. Your hands moved down his body, feeling the thin material of his shirt and needing to get your warm hands on his skin, needing the sensation to feed into your sensitivity. 

And for the first time, Sunghoon was flushed, pink cheeks and lips deepening in color. Your blood was so close to how he had looked stained with raspberry marrow. “You look so pretty like this,” he whispered, thumb moving to brush at the soft skin under your eye like he would catch a tear. “Where have you been hidden all my life?” 

But it didn't matter about before, not when he was all you could think about at that moment, all you could feel as you rolled your hips under him, needing him to understand that it was more that you needed. And he wanted it too, working on instinct, pushing up your thin nightgown following the line from your thigh up your hip, his fingers digging into your soft flesh at the sight of you. Neither of you worried about stripping completely, Sunghoon’s white tunic thrown aside and his pants unbuttoned by your nimble hands.  

Your gasp at the stretch of him pushing into you was so like the breathy shock from the first sight of his mouth on your wrist. Clawing at him you pulled his body in closer letting him sink in as much as he could and you felt full and unbelievably greedy. One hand dragged through the silky strands of his hair, cupping his skull and pressing his face back into your neck where he breathed in the delicacy of your pleasure, hot open mouth pressed over the marks he had already made resisting from drinking again just yet. Your other hand found itself scratching at his toned back, legs widening for him. 

If holding back from your blood had been difficult on its own, being this close was taking all the restraint he had mustered for years. He gave shallow languid thrusts, pressed right against a spot far enough to make your lashes flutter with every movement. You were slipping from your sane mind as if you had even been there for a long time. But his hold on your hip and the other hand fisting the sheets in a deadly strangle were the only thing grounding Sunghoon to himself without surrendering to nothing but needy instinct that ripped at his restraint. And you were whispering, lips hardly moving as you leaned your head back giving him more access to your fluttering pulse point. “Please, Sunghoon- please,” 

He let his hand on your hip slip lower, wedged between the two of you he found your clit, rubbing soft circles to match the slow thrusts he found himself unable to contain. You whined as his nose brushed over the bruised space he had created, his panting inhalation twisting your insides into a tight knot that only he knew how to undo. And when he bit down again he was overtaken by the complete sense of unquenchable thirst. 

For you everything was tumbling together in perfect ecstasy, his fingers, his body, his mouth, he was so in tune with you and you alone that it was easy to find yourself falling over the edge. Your moans and trembling body under him only make him lose a part of himself that he had been holding. His fingers once placed on your clit moved away so as to not overstimulate you now wrapped around your neck, gently holding you in place as he takes one final mouthful of a cure he never knew he would have found. 

He pulled his mouth away from your vein, fingers curling around the pearl necklace you wore, the willpower it had taken to do so focused solely on iridescent beads under hand. And then he followed after you, filling you with everything he had, shivering as he moaned into the hollow of your neck, into your ear. The necklace snapped as he leveraged thrust after thrust into you drawing out both of your highs as the sound of spilling beads against the hardwood floor rained down. The bed is a mess of the pearls, all of them slipping and trapping themself in any spot they could find between the two of you. 

You didn't want to let him go, not after the two of you were done and he was still slowly pumping his release into you and finding new places to kiss along your skin. “I would sacrifice so much to have you like this over and over again,” the rumble of his words vibrating against your chest, his voice deep and husky against your ear. 

He had taken the words right from you, as if he had reached into your head and pulled them into existence. Fear had been warping the mirror of your reality, the fear of the unknown blacking out the first instinct you had when faced with a single question, ‘Have you ever been fed from before?’ 

You had reached out and let them take you and it had been in a state of desperate worry that you did not know how much of yourself you would have lost to him if he bit you even one time. But being here, feeling the warmth of your blood under his skin settled your unease. It was never a question, not after knowing what it felt like to be had, not after knowing how it felt to be fed from. “You have me already,” you whispered, his ghosting lips catching the words right as they left you. “Just don’t hurt me,” 

“Never,” hurting a blessing felt like a crime he would never come back from. Kissing you until you tasted your blood on his tongue; until your heartbeats had synced. 

🏷taglist: @xylatox @cutehoons02 @cyjhhyj @izzyy-stuff want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! I do not write for enha this is my first time and I don't know how much ill be writing for them in the future this is for the taglist for this fic only!

[ambi01]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ. SECRETS . [Y.JW]

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○ SYNOPSIS: After making it to university, you found yourself finding comfort in a cat café worker not too far from your lectures. The cute worker seemed to have a knack for making you fall for his charm. And, how could you not? Your chemistry was perfect- but you never thought that he had secrets and that Jungwon was your secret as well. As much as you two tried to keep everything behind the scenes, things don't always work out the way they should.

○ PAIRING: Boxer!Jungwon×fem!rich!reader

○ WARNINGS: fighting, so suggestive it's acc crazy, blood, classism? Self-doubt, profanity, I made one of the members a villain, cute, fluff, ANGST (Imao), boxer Jungwon (deserves a warning bc it's iconic af)

○ NOTES: Okay. I did it. Please enjoy. This took forever to edit, but hopefully, you all like it!! It's been in my drafts for too long. Ever since No Doubt came out, lmao😭. Thank you for everyone who asked to be on the taglist!! Please give feedback. I would love to hear it!! Okay, muah!

╰┈➤ LIKES, COMMENTS+ REBLOGS are appreciated!

○ WC: 21k+

○ ִֶָ࣪☾. [DREAM LIBRARY]

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AS A DAUGHTER OF A CEO AND A NURSE, YOUR PARENTS OFTEN PILED THEIR LANDSLIDE OF PRESSURES ONTO YOU. With you as the only child in their lavish home, their attention and lectures often find you daily, ready to exhaust your mind into another brainless talk.

But, it wasn't only your parents. It was also your lonely thoughts swarming your inner monologue like a bunch of pests.

Your parents, on the other hand, had you wrapped in their protective blanket, to the point where you were suffocating, not knowing when you could catch fresh air that wasn't supplied by them.

It wasn't easy per se. The studies that entailed your life had beaten you over the head and forced your eyes down to the textbooks and past papers. Those almost became your friends if you didn't scowl at them as much as you did.

Your parents were great, even if they flooded your head with reminders and words that you needed to become someone, anyone.

Anyone with money, of course.

That was the pinned priority. It was almost the only thing you wanted at the end of the destination. The end of the route was hopefully going to university for something in the medical field.

The light on your mother and father's face was the only thing keeping your vision on the set road before you. It was... exhausting. However, you worked through days, sleepless nights, calloused thumbs, and a lost appetite to get you a step closer to your supposed dream.

Getting accepted into that university wasn't as thrilling as you thought: the smile on your parent's faces, their boasts to your family didn't lift the anchor that had rusted in the pits of the ocean that was your mind.

It often felt as if you were drifting away from reality when classes started.

One particular day, you bunked the class by saying you needed the bathroom, when in reality, you sauntered right out the glass doors and onto the street.

Breathing the air without too many of your own classmates stitched your composure together again, and you found yourself wandering down the busy roads

You stopped when observing the mocha and brown lettered words on a cream sign. A cat café. Your feet moved on their own, pushing the door and placing your shoes in a slot on a black shelf.

The staff directed you to the room, and as you entered the main area, you spotted all types of feline friends lounging and sauntering around.

Swiftly moving in, you sat in a random spot, admiring the cats of all colours, the short and long furs—they were truly a melody, a soothing balm to your heated head.

And new potential friends that you could confide in and expect them to listen without a word of resistance. Oh, to live as a cat — carefree, jump as high as you want, and you could run away without consequences.

Oh, the dream.

A certain brown and black cat with a fluffy coat around its face approached you in your daydream, meowing quietly. The cream collar was engraved with "Belle." She was adorable, to say the least.

Her friendliness knew no bounds as she nudged her head into your hovering palm, rubbing her furry face.

For the first time in a while, you smiled, and one could argue that it sounded as if you were in the pits of depression—but you weren't. You were simply deprived of the quiet moments like this.

If you stayed a minute more in that damn lecture hall, you would have stabbed a pencil into their oh so precious desk.

Tentatively letting your fingers scratch beneath her chin, you heard another purr, her green eyes blinking slowly as she shifted her head to seek your comfort.

Her fluffy coat made you want to genuinely bite her—not hard, but maybe kiss her to bits until her paw warned you of her rising annoyance.

"Belle!? Where are you, girl..?" A voice called out that snapped your personal dream bubble.

When you glanced at the source of the voice, there was a young man with honey, golden skin, hickory eyes, and blonde locks resembling a cloud.

His wavy hair and feline eyes made your heart hitch a little. As if his presence hit you like a stone that your body didn't brace for. You weren't prepared.

Said man came over after realising that Belle was spending her careless time with you. Oh. He was coming over, and you're staring like a hawk. An idiot was a more fitting name.

Straightening your back, you glanced back at Belle and let your fingers fall away. The cat obviously protested, meowing—or whining—as her little face pecked at the hand on your lap.

The man slowed as he saw you, his fist holding something, but he was careful as he crouched before the feline. Right there, you noticed his veiny forearms, and you had to look away.

"She never comes out," he began saying, hand expertly rubbing behind her ear. A smile lifted your lips once more.

"I feel special," you said with a speck for amusement. He chuckled and nodded.

"I think you may be. She tends to hide in the dumbest corners. Kind of annoying," mumbled the man. His fists unfurled, and Belle's head perked to see the treats in his hand.

A long meow slipped into the air, her eager self padding to the worker (you assumed), and instantly munching. You could just combust.

For the cat, of course.

A smile graced those lovely, rosy lips of his, the other hand stroking Belle on her head encouragingly. In that moment, this man looked soft and warm. As if you were sitting near a furnace after a long, hard winter day. Something to melt the thick, icy anxiety wedged in your chest.

"She's adorable," you murmured, her tail snaking past your lap, wanting attention in all directions, it seemed. The man nodded and lifted his gaze finally.

They scanned your own, calculating but not intense at all. Then, he spoke. "I'm Jungwon, by the way."

A nice name that suited his perfect face, perfect dimples, and perfect voice.

Damn, what were you thinking? Internally scolding yourself, you nodded in acknowledgement with a small smile.

"I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you," you mumbled softly. The sparkle in his gaze shot by in the darkness of his eyes. Another smile.

"Pretty."

From that alone, you were ready to just bash your head into the wall to deal with the flusterment floating in your face. He said it so casually, delivering it with that deep voice of his that scratched your brain right.

Blinking profusely, your gaze averted to Belle, knowing your neck was burning, and the flames of shyness were reaching the apple of your cheeks as well.

"Thanks." You stroked Belle on her back as she munched contentedly on Jungwon's palm. He noticed your glittering eyes and the lashes fluttering on your cheeks.

Jungwon sat beside you, cross-legged and holding out his hand. "Do you wanna feed her..?"

Without a single thought from your frazzled brain, you nodded. Jungwon was pleased, an easy smile breaking out as he gently took your own left hand.

Even the warmth in his hand ignited all kinds of tingles in your fingers, making the heat constrict and hug your heart.

From his apron pocket, he picked out a few brown treats into your own palm, and Belle was instantly impressed.

Her furry face dug into your hands, licking up the treats, and you felt as if her silent sounds healed and patched up the stitches of exertion from the past couple of days. Who knew just a feline friend could soothe the craks in you?

"So, you work here..?" You asked the obvious question. Jungwon chuckled slightly, eyes fixed on your hand.

"Yup. Shifts are easy, and I get to talk to the cats instead of myself."

"You probably talk to yourself at home," you teased back.

"That's why I needed to work here. To hide it." Jungwon grinned, lifting those beautiful eyes of his. "But alas, my secret is revealed."

He was funny. Cute. You liked the way he easily loosened the stiff bolts in your muscles, as if it didn't take much effort.

You smiled, petting Belle behind her fluffy eyes, feeling somewhat content in the brief silence. Jungwon eyed the backpack slumped by your side and glanced back.

"So, you running away from home, or do you just have a lot of things in there?" He asked with mirth, eyes darting to the crumpled bag. Oh. That. A reminder of how you left class unattended and on impulse.

"Oh... that," you said with a forced chuckle, eyes focused on Belle rather than the beauty before you. "I bunked class."

"You're a student? Damn, you're devious," Jungwon remarked with a jab of amusement. You rolled your eyes and smirked.

"Very. It's the most I've gone against my parents," you said without thinking.

You instantly regretted it. You didn't plan to blurt that out and reveal the speck of the harsh expectations crushing you and all to a stranger. You clenched your eyes shut for a moment before opening them.

"So, rebellion?"

"That's a bit much," you mumbled with a slightly offended pout. Jungwon stroked Belle, fingers accidentally brushing yours, and your hand retracted sharply.

The tingle crazing up your arm was warm, uninvited, but made your heart pound just a little faster. He began to laugh at your comment.

"I guess so. You want to tell me why you're starting your rebellion?" He urged you on, meeting eyes again.

"It's not a rebellion!" You protested, and Belle's little face peered up at you, as if she was judging you for purposely making a wall of lies and denial. Jungwon and Belle waited, expectant.

Sighing, you began to unravel your life story as if it was a ball of yarn running away from you before you could catch it. All the way from high school to exams that opened up the gates to university until now to how dead you felt in class, taking a course for the sole reason of pleasing your parents.

It's not like your chosen health care course wasn't an enjoyable path—you chose that route because, yes—you did find something valuable in stem subjects, and found it bearable to endure the hurdles that came with it.

However, sitting in the lecture hall and typing, writing mindlessly on your convertible tablet, the energy had diminished like a candle nearing the end of its wax.

Jungwon listened, stroking Belle's back as she settled on his lap. No words slipped into the conversation, letting you pour your heart out to him, a total stranger.

When you finished, he let out a deep puff of air, as if he was exhausted for everything you said. "Damn..."

Tucking your side fringe behind your ears, an empty chuckle came out. "Yeah. I love them and all, but it's... exhausting. But, my mind won't let me disagree with them. After all, they just want me to live well."

He shook his head, and Belle jumped off his lap and scurried away, deciding to leave you and him in solidarity.

"What about you being happy? Peaceful?" He asked, stretching his legs out forward, leaning back on his hands. "What's the point of living well on the outside when... you need to also live well internally? If that makes sense."

The words carved into you like a harsh reminder—your own guts telling you to say something. But your loyalty was your biggest enemy, and it had the best leverage.

You weren't smiling anymore, nor speaking, and Jungwon sighed, dropping his own eyes to his lap, as if there was already something brewing behind his eyes.

A beat of silence passed, and Jungwon looked up. "I ran away."

Your eyes shot to him, bewildered. The reaction made him chuckle, but there was memory frozen in his eyes.

"Yeah... you're better than me. If they forced me into taking university, I would've crashed out. I mean, I already did." Jungwon shrugged.

Waiting in silence, you let him go on.

"It's started when I was younger. My father was an alcoholic, a smoker, the whole lot. My mother was ill. So, she was even more irritable. With both of them on my back, going out was an escape." Jungwon rushed a hand through his blonde locks, eyebrows furrowed as if it hurt to clutch the dead roots he had left behind in memory.

"I bunked classes. I didn't care, I just needed to be doing something on my own. I had my friends, we messed about, I will admit. But, nothing bad. Just me, my friends being loud and... smoking here and there. But, I knew my luck would run out."

By now, a white cat padded over, collar jingling softly and climbed into your lap. Smiling, you found something light-hearted in the midst of this talk.

"My dad got the phone call from school. Those assholes called them, and he nearly pushed me into... into the stove. He was yelling, angry, called me useless," Jungwon said as he swallowed down the harsh marks of the past. "But, I wanted it out. Finished school. Grades were mid, but I didn't care."

He let out the nth sigh, gazing at the random wall as if he was rewatching the memory.

"One day, he blew up on me. He was drunk. My mother was okay, but she was also hoping for good grades. Too much expectations, too much demands." Jungwon's gaze narrowed. "I wasn't enough. I didn't impress them. And nothing could."

Jungwon grit his teeth, remembering the moment he had stormed through the house, pulled out a black duffel and backpack, and stuffed every corner of them until it couldn't anymore. It was painful and impulsive.

"I ran. I left with my friend and found my own way. And now, I work here. For about 2 years now." He finished, nodding and letting the weight of his shoulders lift.

You couldn't imagine running with your friend, being along and unstable. You loathed it, but it didn't mean that he didn't hold bravery for making that decision. Letting out a puff of air, you turned to Jungwon.

"I'm glad you're okay now. I honestly can't imagine it. It must have been terrifying," you said softly, sympathetic. Jungwon sensed your tone and dismissed it with a shake of his hand.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Because I'm fine now. I'm stable, I don't need those assholes anyway," he said with a newfound strength. Or perhaps, a strength that had bloomed ever since he left the claws of his home.

"Like I told you, the cats keep me company," he said, letting the white feline jump out his lap and join the rest of his friends. You smiled, finding the café an easy path to soothe the weight on your soul.

As if you needed this.

Jungwon, admiring your adorable face, grinned to himself, not missing the way his heart fluttered, as if something was newly born there. It was enticing all the same.

From then, you visited the cats, or Jungwon, often. You skipped classes sometimes or came afterwards with some friends to catch the eye of the cute worker, letting your small desires be fulfilled every time you and him exchanged a discreet look.

Most of the time, you came alone in hopes of letting the pieces of your heart be bared to him, to let him examine whatever you put out there.

You think it worked. For example, in this one situation, you were trying to lure the cats to your hand full of treats, but no matter how much you cooed at them, they blinked at you as if you were an idiot. You stood once more, and Jungwon, noticing it, appeared behind you in an instant.

The emanating warmth forced your heart to run laps, skip beats, and leap in the tight confines of your chest. He was so close—chest hovered by your shoulders, his breath subtly hitting your right ear. A shudder rippled down your spine.

"The cats can't reach your hand if you're standing normally," he said softly by your ear.

You glanced only to stare at the stars that were his hickory eyes and the roses that were his pink lips.

Jungwon had to be the personification of beauty himself—the type of beauty that couldnt be captured by a normal lens because it simply wouldn't do him an justice. Experiencing just his presence without any second thoughts was as if you were face-to-face with the galaxy itself.

Realising you were staring, you let him lower you to the ground until you sat on your knees, and he crouched behind you. His warm hand held your wrist, angling it, making the tingles bite up your nerves until you felt your heart sprint.

Then, he clicked his tongue, and like the cat whisperer he was, the feline friends all came jumping and padding over with curious tails and mouths. You let yourself stroke a few of the fluffy heads, aware he never moved away.

"Thank you..." you said softly. Jungwon chuckled, and he boldly rested his chin on your shoulder. It was so soft that you nearly missed the pressure of it, but you didn't.

The stupid smile tugged at your lips, his hand retracting from your wrist to rest gently, experimentally on your waist. When you didn't pull away, he sighed into your neck, letting his silence fill in the rest.

It was a song of no words, but you loved every second that passed where he filled the gap in your neck, memorising your skin. The moment elicited a blossom of new flowers—bold, vibrant, and exciting. You wouldn't mind if Jungwon brought out more of those from within you. The flowers crawled up your chest, caged your heart into something strong and something immovable.

Only when a customer alerted the bell did he pull away with one last squeeze to your waist, imprinting the print of his warm invitation. Your gasp was soft, barely audible, but his cheeky self just upped and went away.

One thing about Jungwon was that mischief was an ingrained and crucial part of him. Whether it br through his teasing words or his sly hands brushing past you like the wind.

And, another part of him you had also discovered was the speck of secrecy he kept in the cracks.

It had been a gloomy November morning, the city alive and moving as you strolled towards the familiar cat café. Classes had been exhausting, and you craved to ease the storm irking the ocean that was your mind.

Each part of your head was waterlogged, filled with destructive waves that washed and swept over every other thought that threatened to keep afloat.

Whenever that happened, you went to the cat café, climbing up the familiar brown steps, dinging the bell as you opened the door, and slipping on the comfortable slippers before sauntering to the main room.

The familiar warm light illuminated the cream and pastel pink walls and the various cats padding or lounging around on different surfaces.

Your presence managed to alert the particularly shy cat that never revealed herself. Or, your best friend.

"Hi, Belle," you cooed, crouching down and stroking her furry head. She meowed and licked the tip of her nose swiftly, as if curious about your visit. You laughed softly and scooped her into your arms, and she made home within your embrace.

Her furry self was a remedy for the strenuous school day.

Naturally, you were here for one other person, though—Jungwon. As if detecting your dilemma, Belle jumped out your arms and padded deeper into the café, leading you to the counter where Jungwon's back was turned to you.

The sight of his broad back, the muscles peeking out from his shirt, even under the brown apron he wore. His blonde locks were messy, tousled as a cloud.

"Hey, Won," you said, approaching the counter with an easy grin. Jungwon flinched slightly, putting the air pod out, and he turned only to reveal an undeniable display.

Brows furrowed, you rushed to the counter to examine the red scar stitched into his cheekbone, the redness blooming around it like a field of pain.

"Jungwon, your cheek..?" You said, pointing to the obvious wound, worry budding in your eyes. Realisation flickered over his face, hesitantly letting his fingers caress over the spot before he sighed.

"Yn, it's nothing. Just a small accident," he said, giving a dismissive smile. You didn't believe him. The scar seemed shallow, almost as if he had bumped into something with an aggravating force.

"What accident?"

"You know, the cats. Shadow was kinda hard to get back in his bed," he easily replied, leaning on the counter before you on his elbows, smirking as if he knew something you didn't.

You stared for a good few seconds before your hand lifted to his wounded cheek, and he let you. Heck, he leaned into your hand, the warmth rushing through your nerves; the worry still stood strong.

"What brings you here so late today?" Jungwon mumbled, his breath hitting your wrist. A tingle weaved through your blood and embedded itself into your skin as if to connect you and him.

Sighing, you brought yourself to move away from the topic of his cheek, eyes downcast. Jungwon clutched your palm, bringing his rosy lips to the pulse of your wrist. Your breath hitched.

"I... It's just one of those days. And I thought my worries would go if I saw you, but it seems I have another to think about," you explained.

Jungwon hummed into your wrist, again waving off your concern as if a speck of dust that was tickling his nose.

"Will you let it go?" He asked in slight mirth. You shook your head, and he chuckled. "It was Shadow the cat. A scratch. You know how he is."

"I don't." You blankly stared at him as he kept your wrist to his lips. Relenting from the position, he came around the counter, towering over your form, leaning on the counter.

"Believe me. Yeah?" His voice was honey as he asked that, cocking his head to reach your gaze. You hate how it worked because you gazed up at him with those adorable eyes of yours, and he tapped your chin.

"Help me close up. Maybe you can help Shadow calm down," he said, chuckling at the way your pout appeared and nudged his heart.

"Great. Maybe we can get matching scars," you said sardonically, pushing off the counter and heading to lock the door.

Jungwon scoffed, still facing where you had stood, finding your attitude infuriating, but enticing all at the same time. You were some kind of sweet drug, and he wanted it to invade his senses.

With the cats all in their designated spaces with the other staff, Jungwon was with you at the front, but he was cleaning the dishes. A few cups and straws.

You sat on the counter, watching his honey tan skin, the way his sleeves were rolled up and revealed the veins running down his arm and bedazzled his wrist. The undeniable warmth stirred in your cheeks, finding it ridiculous how you were inept at keeping your composure together.

Where Jungwon washed away, he smirked slightly as he spotted your sparkling gaze on him. You weren't very discreet. Not when your head stayed in the same place before darting away every few seconds.

The tap turned off. Jungwon dried his hands before stalking to you ever so slowly and stood before you with his shadow looming over you.

When your eyes met his, he swore his heart skipped a beat, skipped the hesitation; his hands pushed your knees apart, and you squeaked as he pushed himself right closer to you, hands slithering around your waist.

The warmth rained on your cheeks, and your eyes widened from the proximity. "J-Jungwon—"

"Shh..." He murmured, hands pressing your lower back and forcing your body too close. Tentative hands gripping his shoulders, the hitch in your breath betraying how your composure crumbled and allowed him to peek into what you truly wanted.

"Can I kiss you..?" He whispered when he leaned in, face inches away from yours. From here, the scar was clearer; it was dull, yes, but his whole cheek bone was tainted with red, as if Shadow the cat punched him with those petite paws as well.

There was no time to even think of the scar when he got too close, eyes darting back to his hickory ones. The stare held until you finally nodded to his question.

"Thank fuck," he mumbled before his lips swooped in and captured yours. Soft. Really damn soft.

Your breath hitched once more out of the many, his lips firmly moving against yours like a strong gale against a flower bed. It rendered you breathless, but when you pulled away, you gripped his biceps tighter and dived in for another.

Startled, Jungwon tightened his embrace around your waist, feeling the curve of your body press into his, your lips now littering and staining admiration onto him

When you sighed again, he departed for some air, breaths slightly shaky. Your lips were slightly swollen, eyes glistening with something new and exciting that made his hunger crave more of whatever you were enchanting him with.

He saw the exact way you silently asked for more, those pretty eyes of yours fluttering at him, beckoning him closer. He was under your spell because why did he lean in for another?

Your hands tightened on his shoulders now, lips a feather away from each other, eager for another long reunion—

"You two are fucking disgusting." Jay had his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at Jungwon instantly distancing his lips.

A storm of heat wrecked your body and cheeks, and now you wish you would crawl into the dirt and bury yourself there. You gave a small wave to Jay, who gave you a nod of acknowledgement mixed with the repulse.

A slight chuckle escaped Jungwon, hands still locked around your waist. "You could have just walked back into the other room."

"And leave you two unsupervised? On the counter? As if I hadn't seen this before?" He inquired, each question heightening your embarrassment. But Jungwon didn't even mind it, smirking impishly at Jay.

"What movies have you watched?"

"Shut up."

━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━

The marks persisted. Some days, it would be mostly on his face, and then other days, the scars would bloom on his jaw, shoulder, and at one point, you saw him wince, clutch his side when he bent down to grab the cat bowl.

It was painfully clear he was concealing something beneath the surface, and he wanted to keep you out.

But fine. If he didn't want to tell you, why would you force him? Logically, it wouldn't be serious if he never told you otherwise. So, you dropped the idea of the suspicious little wounds at random spots and let it go.

Until today.

Another day, another decision to bunk the later class. It was two hours long, meaning two hours of absolutely useless droning from that professor you despise.

Walking down the streets in the gloomy weather, you puffed some air into your fingers, scolding yourself for not doing the smart thing of bringing your gloves.

November was hit with a silent storm of cold, the freezing air everywhere at once, giving no one respite from its breath.

Which is why you want to go buy gloves right now. The shop you love was down the street after the corner of these other meticulous ones. The idea of buying yourself something was so greedy but gratifying; you know you probably have gloves packed safely in your home, abandoned, but here you were, shopping for a pair more to join the collection.

When you turned the corner, a familiar blonde sparked in your peripheral vision. Now, there weren't a lot of blondes in Korea, but this was... certainly a coincidence, right?

Your supposed situationship was not going down some dodgy and dark alley with Jay? They strolled with ease as if this path was the most familiar route they had walked upon.

The buildings on this side looked... reserved, residential, even. This was no place that Jungwon could know because he never talked about anything else. Or, he never wanted to tell you of anything else he was doing. The mere thought made a crack of doubt in your stomach, the crevice thin, but undeniably there.

Do you follow?

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. So, as a cat would, even though you were far from it, you crossed the road and sauntered swiftly into the same narrow path.

You had no idea where you were going and decided to follow this random dude, careful not to alert anyone. They all worse dark clothes, and here you were, wearing a cream coat. You were just asking to be looked at.

Whatever. The alley was dark for the most part except the tiny streams of light illuminating the black door at the utter end.

The dude opened it languidly, disappearing. Like the spy you were, you opened it swiftly and snaked yourself into another dim hallway.

"I better not break my ankle," you mumbled to yourself, using your palms to direct yourself down the only path that was also deprived of light. More doubt cracked whatever contentment you had with Jungwon the more you crept down the dark hallway.

What business did he have here? It wasn't normal to casually stroll up to a place like this and act as if he was entering the park or something. Too many questions relentlessly hit your head as you lowered yourself down some stairs when you heard it.

A crowd. Not even the demure mumbling—it was loud. Strident, and you could hear jeering, cheers. The dude opened another door, light spilling in instantly. Not wanting the darkness clinging to you, you rushed through the cheers louder now, but the room you were in was empty except the multiple, absent boxing rings.

Boxing. Jungwon. What?

In a way, you could see the connection of events: the sudden scars that popped on his skin like daisies on a normal summer day. But even then, your thirst of curiosity wasn't quenched, and, as much as you wanted to explore this empty hall, you strode silently behind the dude.

The door he next opened was through another hallway, but at least there was a single bulb to provide the weak excuse of light. It was grey, plain, and had no indication of what stood behind it, but the closer you ventured, the more those cheers became prominent.

The dude seamlessly opened it and entered like the wind. Puffing out some air yourself, you approached it and buried the anxiety of what you would find. Maybe Jungwon. Or maybe something terrible.

What you didn't expect was a dim, shady part of the building with a boxing ring in the middle, a crowd swarming it with their cheers and conversations, and bang in the middle was Jungwon.

Shock froze your body, all your nerves as you stood away from the crowd, afraid of exposing yourself.

He was sweaty, to say the least; he donned a white shirt, blue pants with thick, white boxing gloves, and his golden hair stuck to his forehead. His feline eyes were sharp, focused on the opposing player, who just about entered the ring.

The referee, you assumed, stayed in the middle, holding this microphone, grinning widely.

"Welcome to the next round! Remember to put the money on the person that would most likely win!" He explained to the crowd.

Bets. Money. Gambling. The sudden doubt and bewilderment snaked around your chest and throat, making it hard to even breathe. You leaned against the pillar, mostly to stay hidden.

"As you know him, we have our returning fighter—Jungwon!" The crowd cheered at his name, familiarised with his status. From that, you knew he came here often.

The MC introduced the other dude, but you honestly weren't listening. You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jungwon was a fighter for this gambling underground fighting thing.

When you glanced at the building, you saw the abandoned atmosphere, the lack of equipment or care in the mouldy walls. There were a few tables here and there, chairs stacked around randomly with neglect. It was totally different from the other side you came from.

"Fighters..." the MC said again, moving back so that Jungwon and the other dude could bump fists. The sudden movement of his veiny arms, slightly bruised somewhere, made your stomach flutter at the sight.

You almost cursed at yourself for focusing on something so irrelevant.

He's fighting, and here you are, flustered over the tan colour of his flawless skin. Shaking your head out of it, the ding rang through, and the crowd jumped and cheered louder.

Jungwon was poised, circling around and keeping a distance at first from the dude dressed in a blue tracksuit. You couldn't stop looking, the crowd fading out in your ears.

Then, Jungwon lunged so fast in a single stride, his fist connecting swiftly with the man's ribs that it pushed him back.

The blue man backed up, then struck his first move. The fist flew towards Jungwon in the face, but he only defended, arms brought up vertically before his gaze. The crowd cheered again when Jungwon's posture grew aggressive, eyes sharpening instantly.

One glove hit the blue man's ribs again, the left side, and his other used the distraction to deliver a left hook sharply to his jaw. You gasped as the blue dude staggered backwards, hitting the ropes.

This man, the same dude who worked at a cat café was beating a man up. In a bet. It was as if you went down a rabbit hole and ended up somewhere absurd and nonsensical.

Jungwon didn't end there and used blue dude's foot failure to deliver two sharp blows to his stomach, causing him to double over. Another chance that Jungwon saw—he rained his fists down to the man's nape, then shifted to delivering brusque punches to the side of his face.

Almost as if you could feel the strength put into it. Whatever strength it was, it sent the dude to his knees, head writhing on the floor of the ring.

Even when the cheers erupted louder than before, the only thing floating to the surface was how secretive Jungwon was. He had managed to mask the scars with silly excuses and mishaps—but this?

This was a whole other level of what you expected. And he kept it a secret from you. Why? You couldn't find it in you to claw at the anger; rather, you were just bewildered.

Stepping away from the pillar, you planned to head out and clear your polluted head of the dark lights and dark fight. Even then, you cast one more glance back, and your breath hitched as Jungwon's gaze turned to you, freezing you in place.

His smile faded, just like your knowledge of him from the past few weeks, and he tore off his boxing gloves before hopping down to the musty ground. The crowd gave way as the winners went to get their money, and the losers grew desolate.

For some reason, you remained in place, hoping that whatever he was about to say would eradicate this new view of him. But it was selfish to think that you could just ignore what you saw, to keep this memory in a bubble that you hoped to never pop. Though, it wasn't reality.

With a calculated walk, he approached swiftly but softly locked your fingers together and led you away from the main scene towards a different set of doors, his expression saying absolutely nothing. You let him do so.

The silence once entering the hallway was harsh, almost suffocating. His heavy footsteps broke it as he pulled you along to this door, shoving it open and revealing a simple locker room.

Clean, lit, and well-organised.

Once you were in, he shut and locked the door, his back facing you, as if he didn't know what words to say. Even you, who had a plethora of thoughts and questions, couldn't bring yourself to inquire what kind of shit just went down back there.

Jungwon sighed, leaning on the door on his elbows before turning; his face was shining with sweat, a small bruise on his jaw with golden locks damp and stuck to his forehead. When he saw your perplexity, he quickly glanced away.

It's fine if he didn't want to talk. Your voice was still lost, even whilst he was doing a brief shower in the next room. Sitting on a random bench, you heard the water stop running behind you, the rustle of the metal rings as he pulled the curtain.

This was too intimate, but if you weren't so confused, you would have acknowledged it and allowed to twist your thoughts into a blushing mess.

There had to be something reasonable; a crevice that you missed that contained the reason of his expressive dance of aggression. You fiddled with your dress as he moved behind you, head lowered and desperate to shed light on the answer.

"Y/n..?" His voice rang out behind you, as if the time had finally come to face him. You were silent, unmoving.

The footsteps came around, and suddenly, he was crouching before you, his blonde locks now fluffy, his body donning a black shirt and loose pants, and his hickory eyes stubbornly gazed at you.

It just managed to melt whatever was frozen in your chest and mind. Almost.

Tentative, he held both your hands, careful, but you didn't pull away. You actually missed it. You missed more than that; your gaze flickered to his lips but darted away, sighing.

"Why did you come here—how did you even find this place?" Jungwon began saying softly, squeezing your hand.

"Is that all you're worried about? How about you tell me what this place is?" You remarked, the doubt from before resurfacing like a solid piece of ice to prick your nerves.

Jungwon sighed and held your hands tighter, not wanting to lose whatever connection had you and him tied together. "I will, I just..."

He hesitated. "You weren't supposed to find this place."

"And yet, you're in it. And, so many people are as well. It wasn't hard to follow," you said again quietly, your breaths shaky from containing your bewilderment and apprehension.

What if this was an illegal gambling thing? What if this could get him pulled into a storm with the law if he was found out? Too many risks, and he's so calm about it.

"Okay. I'll explain." He stood from the floor before seating himself beside you, searching for the beginning and the reasons deep in his memory.

"It's underground fighting. They bet on us, yeah, but it's optional. It doesn't make it better, but the reason why I joined is because of the money," he said. Your left hand was in his lap, interlaced with his own fingers, while your gaze remained on the floor.

"You know how I told you I ran away?" He said with hope, to which you nodded slowly. "I needed quick money. Extra, quick money. The cat café wasn't enough, I turned to this. I couldn't stand being a burden, and I still can't."

The more he explained, the more he managed to melt that icy doubt away, soothing it. You listened, eyes flickering to his, which held the shining gratitude for your patience.

It made you realise that he wanted your understanding rather than keeping you in the dark. He took the effort, and you couldn't look away.

"Not only did I learn boxing, I learned how to be in control of my own life. All my life, I was never enough, and it was always shoved in my face. Boxing helped me just... vent. And, not to hurt people — that's not the point. But to finally feel like I was doing something useful to myself and that I wanted to do it for myself. The skills I gain here—they're mine." He held your hand tighter, sensing the relaxation in the way you grasped his hand back.

Jungwon knew yours and his life was different: you had money stuck to your background and present, privilege floating around you like a bubble, whilst he scraped his life, took the token of bravery to get where he was today. He didn't expect you to understand easily, but what he did know was how you radiated empathy.

You held his hand tighter, finally facing his heavy eyes with guilt for having so much bewilderment and judgement hitting at him. "I'm sorry. I just... I was confused."

You didn't expect his soft chuckle, but it gave you the gnawing butterflies all the same, heat creeping up your chest and your neck.

"Don't worry about it. It's my fault for not telling you earlier." Jungwon smiled.

"So, Shadow, the cat wasn't responsible for this one?" You asked, cupping the side of his jaw with a new field of purple and red on his skin. Sheepishly, he grinned again from your reminder of his web of lies.

"No. He wasn't," Jungwon replied with mirth. You tutted.

"You threw him under the bus. I knew he was a sweetheart," you said with a small pout of disbelief. He chuckled, having the strong urge to nibble on your lower lip, but he held back. He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. That was my big secret. I blamed the cat for my antics." He leaned in slightly as his grip crept to your waist, hooking around you like a sly snake desiring one thing. The touch made you squeak, your eyes widening slightly.

"I can't believe you're defending the cat so easily..." He mumbled, tugging you closer until your hands gripped his shoulders and your faces were close enough to entice you.

There was an intense mischief in his eyes, ones that sparkled in the way that you loved it, in the way that you couldn't reject.

"The cat didn't keep secrets," you remarked softly, hands sliding around his nape, making him intake a sharp breath before chuckling at the infuriating sass you always hit him with. He tightened the grip on your waist, fingers pressing into the small of your back.

"Okay. I got it. No more secrets," Jungwon said, now a breath away from your lips, staring with warmth and a promise that shone heavily in his gaze.

"Promise?" You whispered. Jungwon smirked and nodded.

"Promise," he murmured back before closing the distance between your lips, the softness capturing yours and making your mind blank. No thoughts dared to interrupt you as your lips moved fervently against his.

Jungwon huffed and delved into another, tongue boldly tracing the seam of your lips, crossing whatever boundaries you had set. He hadn't even confessed to you, but friends don't kiss like this.

You don't even like the idea of friends. It left a bitter thought, like a scent lingering after many days. And you grew sick of it.

With a groan, your lips parted and the warmth of his tongue joined yours; your heart pounded, the drums of them raging and bellowing in your ear. It was as if your heart was declaring what you had for Jungwon even if you didn't say it.

He pulled you closer, hands strongly lifting you onto his lap, straddling him only for you to clutch his collar, tilting your face as you kissed him once more, stealing his breath. Jungwon breathing chuckled against your pretty lips, one hand cupping the back of your head, and the other enclosing your waist.

He trapped you in his touch, and you weren't complaining. You felt the heat of his torso against yours, body curving into his like a perfect puzzle.

When he finally departed, he breathed heavily, soft pants exchanged between the two of you. With your forehead against his, Jungwon's gaze met yours again.

Desperate and mellow, wanting to yearn for your trust again, for your touch to soothe the guilt stuck to his nerves.

"No more secrets."

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Over the past month, you and him shared kisses in privacy, going on dates whilst you tailored lies for your parents to wear.

It wasn't like you were embarrassed—no—but your parents had standards of who you dated. If they found out you dated a boxer, someone that worked at a simple cat café, they would certainly freak out and subtly implement more supervision than needed.

And, you didn't need that right now. To be treated like an inept child unable to think for herself.

He understood, and he made sure to make every kiss and touch last longer, to stretch across oceans and make you forget that you were drowning in the tasks of everyday life.

Though, Jay did fully ban you and him after hours in the café after he found you and Jungwon making out in the janitors closet.

"Are you guys homeless, or do you just like making my day worse by doing it at a public place," Jay had said, making you shield yourself with Jungwon and his laughing self.

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Well, one day...

Jungwon was working, as usual, when these girls nearby gossiped among the feline friends. He slightly paused his work at the counter, pretending to be fussed with his monitor.

"If your man doesn't get you at least, I don't know, a promise ring, is he even in the same relationship?" One girl scoffed as she sat on the floor nearby.

Now, Jungwon wouldn't usually care about such conversations, but his imaginary ears perked anyway: if it wasn't for your birthday coming up, he would ignore them. Except, the idea of getting a gift sent a heavy stone of doubt into his chest. He was too curious now and let his curiosity overtake him in an attempt to soothe the lament anchoring at his ribs.

He inched closer, masking it as a job to dust off one of the pastel counters.

"For real. They have to mean it, and that means getting something expensive," the other girl said with a giggle.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, gripping the cloth a little tighter. Your birthday was soon. And he wanted to make this perfect and worth it. Even if he had to do one more fight to scrape that money.

Jungwon raised a sceptical eyebrow, rubbing down the counter more to get rid of the nonexistent dirt. With your birthday being soon, the only priority was making sure that his gift was weaved with sincerity. But, what was worth that sincerity?

Was it the money? The expenses? Did he need to scrape more cash to prove his love for you through his gift?

To be honest, he wouldn't mind enduring more fights if that meant lighting up your eyes with those stars that always uncovered themselves with any ray of joy.

You were worth all the bruises.

Besides, he didn't want to let his financial situation set a barrier as to what he could do to deliver an adequate present. With what you endured during university, working hard to stay afloat in your studies, you probably craved a moment of respite, a moment in a bubble that was far from reality.

When he got his break, he sat down in the café where it was empty, Shadow curling in his lap as he scrolled online for a 'promise' ring. It couldn't be hard. It also couldn't be that expensive.

He was thoroughly wrong when he stumbled across a decent and dainty ring but immediately tossed his phone on the floor when he observed the string of zeroes and numbers.

Before the decimal point as well.

A puff of air left him, forcing out the lingering cloud of apprehension.

Shadow meowed as if he was judging him, those green eyes blinking up at him. Annoyed, Jungwon frowned and crossed his arms.

"You don't even have fingers. You can't judge me."

Shadow immediately jumped off his lap, making Jungwon's exasperation sunk deeper into his chest. He threw his arms in the air. "I didn't mean it!"

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Jungwon thought long and hard to the point his brain must have burned itself out, his patience being thinner than the strand of hair.

Who knew the stress of gifts would be weighing down on his soul that much. At boxing practice, his hooks were messy, unfocused and he ended up jolting pain up his shoulder.

There wasn't anymore time because your birthday had arrived; the skies were somewhat cloudy, the icy air nipping at his skin and brushing past his golden locks. Jungwon avoided the cold by a black coat and a thick scarf that practically swallowed his face.

"Jungwon!" You squealed from afar, jogging to him with a bounce in your step. He couldn't help but smile, his heart warming as you jumped into his arms, and he spun you around.

Those soft giggles of yours filled his ears, like honey, and he grinned down at you once safely on the concrete.

"Happy birthday, my love," he said with a tilt of his head, finding your sincere joy utterly adorable. He held your waist as you gripped his shoulders.

"Thank you! Nice scarf, by the way," you commented, hand running down the orange and green fabric, the thickness surprising you.

"Thanks. I can't risk catching a cold on my day off," he murmured, kissing you firmly on your temple. That alone sent your heart to beat too fast for your own good, your breath hitching as he did. You could never grow tired of this type of intimacy.

"So, you wanted to take me out?" You began to walk with him down the street in your thick coat. Jungwon nodded.

After he had searched for a promise ring, he found himself meeting dead ends at every corner. It was frustrating, to say the least, but it meant scavenging for a new solution to the gift problem.

"Well, I know you love doing your nails. And, I think they're due for another check-up, right?" He asked as his warm hand hoisted yours to his gaze, firmly clutching yours. Indeed, some nails were chipped away with time.

"Yeah, yeah, I am due. But, you don't need to," you reassured Jungwon earnestly. As if you had said something ridiculous, he scoffed as he focused on the path ahead.

"It's your birthday. Why wouldn't I do your nails. I want to do something meaningful for you," Jungwon explained, his voice soft and layered with endearment.

You clutched his hand tighter, somehow wanting to connect you to him more than you already were. Both hands swung between you and him as the warmth threaded delicately into your chest. "It can get pricey, that's all."

Jungwon stopped walking, and you were pulled back to spot the igniting determination.

"I want to. I know what I want," he said, taking a close step forward to linger over you. "And that's to make you happy."

Flutters erupted in your stomach again, small butterflies freed in the pits of your guts, making a smile tug your lips. He was sweet, so full of personality, and you always saw his kindness in the way it decorated his actions.

How could anyone not like him? You would rather leave that irrelevant question unsolved.

You started walking again, pulling him along with a stupid, giddy smile and intertwined hands.

Jungwon didn't comment on it, letting the internal glee shower you like blossoms.

Watching you at the nail salon was not as boring as he thought it would be. The interior was soft and dim as the nail technician chipped off the older charms, scraping the glue off your nails.

To Jungwon, it looked painful, but you weren't even flinching from any agony. Or, you were really good at hiding it.

Whatever it was, Jungwon didn't complain because he, himself, was enamoured by the way you yapped about your day, something about this girl at university annoying you out of your mind during lectures.

But did Jungwon know the details? No. Did he even pay attention to what the girl said that apparantly ripped you to academic misery? No.

When he had looked at you in that moment, it was as if the sunlight magically appeared, beaming down on you, making your laugh seem like a symphony that soothed his soul, and your mannerisms after each incredulously sentence was oh so endearing. You were like an angel, blinding all his senses with your light. He sat there with his chin propped on his palm, eyes unblinking.

"And, you know I hate team projects—hey, are you listening?" Your voice snapped him out of his daydream. He cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah, of course," he murmured as if it was an obvious answer. By the look in his sheepish smile, you knew none of your words actually settled in his mind, and rather, it flew away before he grasped any understanding.

"Really? What was the guy's name?" You asked, challenging him. He rubbed the back of his neck, pouting in concentration.

"Um... Ben—"

"I'm not even talking about a guy! I was talking about Yena! A girl," you whined to him, trying not to move for the technician. Jungwon chuckled and put his hands up in a mock surrender.

"You got me," he said with a smile absent of any guilt. How shameless.

Huffing as you turned away from him, your pout only invited his fingers to playfully poke them, the gesture forcing the heat to stitch into your stomach and chest. You could never get used to this, the butterflies that practically lived inside your guts and sensed your love for him.

Again, you stuck your tongue out, determined to prove that it didn't affect you so much, but you had a hint that he knew what he was doing and he was welding it as a weapon.

After the nail appointment, your stomach was grumbling loudly, needing something digest. Jungwon simply led you down the street, pointing to multiple restaurants.

The nails did do some damage, but he wouldn't mind paying for your food either. Ultimately, you decided on this normal ramen shop, the interior dim and brown, the lighting exuding warmth, and a wave of tranquillity.

"Ugh, I'm starved, Wonie," you said dramatically. Jungwon grinned, gently nudging you by the waist to the booth at the back of the building.

"I know. You must be so tired from sitting there and watching your nails," he murmured playfully, clearly enjoying the way you sent a soft glare to him, one dormant of any aggression.

Well, once the food was ordered, you and him had the chopsticks at a ready, the steam of the food wafting in the air, and a stack of tissues on standby.

"Thank you, Won," you chirped just before your utensils dug into the tteokbeokki. Nothing but pure affection bloomed in his eyes as he smiled again, one with sincerity.

"Anytime."

The dinner was a success with you yapping once more about the food, the nail design which you were utterly grateful for, all inspired by Pinterest. He only nodded and smiled, attentive to your voice as ingrained into the walls of his head.

He would carve your voice into his mind if he had to ever capture your exuberant gesticulations.

It made him think and realise that you probably didn't act like this at home. That you were forced to be demure about your wants and wishes, having to withold your tongue in the depths of your chest.

It was cruel that you couldn't find your voice, like this, to confront your parents; it wasn't just the studies, but it was also the fact that Jungwon was a secret. Someone in the shadows of your life, as if he didn't deserve to be brought into the light.

The thought prickled his composure, tingling his skin, and his grip on the chopsticks tightened as your voice droned on. It was something he didn't want to ask, but it came out before he could decide the rationality.

"Are you... embarrassed of me?" Jungwon stared at you with a stillness that stopped your previous conversation. There was a weight burning in his eyes, small as a spark, but still powerful to evolve into something more.

With a nervous chuckle, you tilted your head at him. "Of course not, Wonie."

He hummed, eyes leaving yours for a second to pick up some of the rice cake; your gaze was still burning into him, trying to dissect what he was implying. And why.

"I see."

"Why would I be embarrassed? You're literally one of the best people in my life," you countered again when his voice dimmed.

Jungwon knew he should understand. There was more to it, but in his head, he wanted to remind you that there were other options other than staying in the confines of your parents' boundaries; you could always trek down a different path, a path paved by your decisions. However, it was easier said than down.

"No. It's just that... I don't buy you luxuries, I barely take you out. I fight, for peace sake," he explained, his voice anchored by his own insecurities. His words alone told you he was secretly sinking in his own reluctance.

Your hand reached out to his, gripping it firmly. "I don't care."

I don't have a big ass job or working a corporate nine-to-five," he went on again, making your heart sting. You held his hand tighter, his eyes flickering to yours.

"I don't care. Really." You attempted a small smile that only made his questions rise deeper from below.

"Then, why keep me a secret?" He asked, rubbing your knuckles softly with the pad of his thumb. The question caught you off guard, your thoughts unsteadily rocking at sea from it.

It was true. Why didn't you? Because, what? You're scared of your parents, friends? Scared they would separate you and Jungwon?

Yeah, it was a valid fear. You don't care that Jungwon doesn't have the most colourful job in the world, but that doesn't mean you were embarrassed of him.

"I just don't want to deal with their shit," you said softly, grip tightening in his as if you tried to convey the weight of your parents on him. Jungwon held your gaze, munching slowly.

"You shouldn't be afraid of them. You're already doing so much for them, the least they can do is let you date," he replied, the tension bolted in his words.

"I'm not scared of them... I just don't want us to be separated. I really like you, Jungwon. I can't lose you," you suddenly rambled on, pouring out the vulnerability you always preserved around him. With his eyes softening, understanding slowly stitched in his gaze.

"I get it. I like you, too. But, I don't you to exhaust yourself by keeping me a secret," he murmured as he glanced back down, something clouding the hope that once stood there.

"I will tell them one day. They're just... on my back with studies and stuff," you explained again, recognising your own words was just a mask of the excuse underneath. Though, Jungwon nodded and smiled with a resigned sigh.

"I know. I don't want you stressed." He held your gaze, blinking with those eyes always void of judgement.

That was one thing you love about him—the undeniable understanding he had with your situation, how you always found a respite, an oasis in his arms. It made you feel as if you could tell him anything.

And, as he said before, no more secrets.

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APPARANTLY, GRADES WEREN'T THE ONLY THING YOUR PARENTS WERE CONCERNED ABOUT.

Having her tug down a dress down your thighs, you kept protesting and frantically questioning her; each time, she hushed your concerns and sewed your complaints shut.

It grew worse when your mother haphazardly did your hair, earning a few agonised protests.

"Mother, what are you doing—"

"Stop moving, Y/n!" She scolded.

Soon enough, you were downstairs and pulled into the lounge. It would have been a normal sight if you didn't see a new set of eyes and faces, all peering at you as if you were the newest thing to be displayed.

Discomfort stitched your chest into a tight space when you saw new sets of faces, eyes all peering curiously over you. There was an elderly man and woman accompanied by a younger dude with pale skin and moles etched under his eye and on his nose.

"Ah—here's my daughter!" Your father exclaimed, putting an arm around your shoulder, hoisting you deeper into this mess. Sending a look of bewilderment to your parents, they completely ignored you.

"She's lovely," the other woman said, patting the younger boy's arm softly but excited.

"Introduce yourself," your mother said with a hinted demand in her tone. You knew better than to question her right now: she had that look where her eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing with glittering expectation.

Clearing your throat and waving slightly, you gathered your voice whilst they all pointed their gaze on you, the stares like needles to your skin.

"I'm Yn. Nice to meet you," You said. The other parents, plus the boy, all grinned at your tone, mistaking the confusion as courtesy.

Again, the other elderly woman nudged the young boy softly to go forward like you did. Once he did, offered a cordial handshake.

"I'm Sunghoon. Nice to meet you, too."

Said Sunghoon was gorgeous, of course. But, that didn't answer the question in the spotlight. It was still very much distracting you. You sent a look of bewilderment to your parents.

"Yn, Sunghoon and his parents have expressed an interest in you."

That made your whole world freeze. All your nerves totally halted in place, your brain chemistry dying down from that single sentence as you stared at her wide-eyed.

Shock shot right through you, stunning all your nerves into ice, even your thoughts. With wide eyes, you stared at your parents as if they had held the gun and triggered the bullet.

What the hell????

...

The dining room lingered with silence except the occasional clink when you absentmindedly stirred the straw in your glass. Gorgeous Sunghoon was poised beside you, drinking. And the parents?

They went to the kitchen as if to let the chemistry blossom between you and him. But, there was nothing but dead roots in place with your patience discreetly withering with it.

It's your parents and their damn noses digging into your love life and rearranging that as well.

Wasn't the studies enough? What were they so worried about? Were you that socially unavailable that you couldn't open your shell to new people? Is that how they saw you?

Then, there was Jungwon, who easily peeled away your barriers, finding the key and treading right into your heart. And, wherever he stepped, flowers bloomed behind him and created a sprightly path of life.

Now? This Sunghoon dude singlehandedly lifted all your walls up into immovable stone.

"Yeah, so that's where I want to work. My father thinks I can take after him in a few years, even though I kind of know everything." Sunghoon took another sip of his glass while you zoned out, circling the straw in your untouched drink.

"So, what about you?" He asked, fully facing you. It startled you for a moment, but you restrained the urge to roll your eyes, and set your cup down.

"I'm still in university, so. I just entered actually." You glanced at him, masking the boredom prickling your internals. Sunghoon smiled, but one filled with curiosity.

"Doing something in healthcare, right?"

Whenever you heard the core word, a single petal died in your head, making it hard to eve keep the composure alive. Even then, you nodded once and distracted your impatience by gripping the cold glass.

He hummed, as if pleased.

"Hard, but rewarding." He set his finished glass down, now leaning on his knuckles, examining your features with interest, as if trying to decipher how you truly felt.

In reality, you would do anything to be with Jungwon and do absolutely nothing because simply orbiting around him would ease all creases of boredem that you had right now. It was quite telling.

The silence stretched on for long, and you know you should have made some small talk, but this whole encounter, quite frankly, pissed you off to no ends, your serenity thinning to a strand.

Honestly, it was a way for him to take the hint that you had no interest to take this further into the future.

Besides, your interests laid elsewhere.

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YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS THE END OF IT, BUT NO. After that awkward day, you were prepared to meet Jungwon in disguise for a 'study session' with your classmates in town when your mother knocked on the door.

Without waiting a response, she barged in with a sly smile that curled your guts into tight knots.

"Sunghoon wants to meet you again!" She exclaimed, coming up to you when she noticed your heavy tote bag. "Where are you going?"

"I told you. The library," you said with a lie, making sure all essentials were packed in.

"You can't! He's coming over as we speak," she said, making you gawk at her as if she had shot another bullet at you.

"Mother—I told you that I'm not free today!"

"It's just studying. You won't be missing anything," she remarked with a hand on her hip, demand layered underneath her tone.

The dread, at this point, had rotted away in your chest, making your protests die in your vocal chords. You just sighed and dropped your bag onto your bed whilst she careened towards your walk-in closet.

The frown tugged at your lips at the thought of putting down a date with Jungwon, who had his day off today out of all days. The universe had other plans to subdue your happiness for some reason. What would you tell him?

Come to think of it, you hadn't told Jungwon of this unexpected courtship. It totally slipped your mind because you thought it was a one-time thing. Now that your mother brought you the news, unease bubbled at the pit of your stomach, as if the topic itself caused nausea.

If you told him about Sunghoon, it would just be messy: telling your boyfriend about the courtship looming over you like a storm cloud was not the best conversation to have. Besides, you are going to fully reject Sunghoon and make sure that this mess doesn't extend any further.

Telling him about Sunghoon would just be messy: who even wanted to break that to their boyfriend that another man was trying to sprout something nonexistent? It was almost laughable. Except, you were going to reject Sunghoon and make it clear that your stone walls would not crumble for him. Meaning... none of this would evolve further.

Your mother returned with multiple hangers, droning on and on about how to impress the family.

When she wasn't looking, you rolled your eyes.

Again, the dinner at the table was mostly held by the chatter of the parents, their boisterous laughter and audacious words about work and business was a enough to lull you to sleep.

Whilst your fork stabbed into a strawberry, Sunghoon sipped his tea once more, his gaze landing on you and attempting to break apart your expression.

"You don't look pleased," he stated quietly, not enough for the parents to hear. A small sigh escaped your lips when thinking of how to approach this without seeming like a brat about it.

"Can I be honest, Sunghoon?" You turned to him slightly. He nodded easily.

"I'm not... interested in taking this further," you admitted, not knowing why apprehension weaved into your chest and made itself clear.

Sunghoon looked away for a moment, maybe to contemplate why, or maybe to decide what to even do with that information. Then, he exhaled a slow breath that gave you no clue as to what emotion was flowing through him.

"I kind of know," he began to say, careful but resigned. You raised an eyebrow.

"I understand." He looked back at you with uncertainty and something else stitched deep within. You held his gaze before speaking.

"It was nice to meet you and all, but i think this will be our last meeting." You glanced back at the fruit salad sitting idly on the table, neglected and growing cold. Sunghoon hummed, nodding once.

Then, the silence rolled in again like a thick fog that prevented any words from rising to your lips. Relieved or anxious—you don't know.

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Jungwon wasn't the type to be suspicious of you. Or anyone, quite frankly. But, when you cancelled last week on the date that was a rain check on your other cancelled date, the insecurity anchored down in the depths of his chest.

There had to be a reason, of course. You couldn't be purposely doing so—you were too smitten, too entangled with his string of fate, and he knew you were in too deep.

So, what was the reason really? When he had asked you what happened, you texted something vague, something indubitably stitched with a secret.

Jay came over as Jungwon leaned back on the boxing ring, slapping a hand on his back, jolting him out of his thoughts. Jungwon cleared his throat.

"What are you thinking so deeply about?" Jay asked, snagging the bandage roll on the platform by his shoulders.

Jungwon could name a few.

"Nothing. Just... thinking." Jungwon crossed his arms despite the stones of doubt lurching at his internals. It was quite damn hard to ignore.

"Thinking. Hm, yeah. I've tried that," Jay mused with amusement, making Jungwon glower at him. Putting up his hands in mock surrender, he said, "hey, I'm just teasing.

"I know. It's just that I... ugh." Jungwon groaned, running a hand through his hair because his uncertainty was too strong, but it was also formed on the basis of nothing. All these negative thoughts formed without foundation, yet they were sky-high and dangerous.

Jay waited patiently for Jungwon to gather himself.

"I just feel insecure, you know?" Jungwon started as Jay bandaged up his wrist with the protective layer.

"About?"

"My girlfriend."

"Oh, good God," Jay said with a roll of his eyes. "What, trouble in paradise?"

Jungwon ignored the comment, even though a punch to Jay's arm was awfully enticing. But, he digressed. "Not really. But, maybe it's just me."

"Talk to me, bro," Jay urged on with his back leaned against the platform. Those words coming from his trusted friend were enough for him to just undo the knot tensing his muscles.

"She blew me off twice. And, I know she's super busy, but we didn't go out on my day off. Was kinda stumped," Jungwon explained with a hard hand through his locks. Jay whistled slightly.

"Well, did she explain why?" Jay asked with a tilt of his head, lurching the bandage roll into the air and catching it methodically.

"Yeah. She said something came up with her family. Twice." Jungwon frowned again, thinking from square one.

"You trust her, right? Like, she won't go running off with another man," Jay said but the younger one caught onto the joke snuck into his tone. Jungwon's ground his teeth together.

"She won't."

"Just making sure before I tell you that your girlfriend probably has her reasons. And, also just talk it out with her if you feel that disturbed by it. Seriously, you haven't even got into the ring," Jay exclaimed, gesticulating to the empty platform behind both of them.

Jungwon sighed again, deciding that the only way to distract his damn thoughts was to fixate on a choreography that was his boxing skills.

Once his boxing gloves were on and Jay wore the punching puds on each hand, he switched his brain off, and strengthened his shoulders, one hand near his face, the other slightly forward.

The sharp punches rang out through the empty room, each jab done with laser concentration. Of course, you lingered in his head with your pretty eyes and easy words, but along with you came the dark rain cloud of doubt, threatening to dampen his focus.

Jungwon went to deliver the punch harder, only for his body to stiffen and not turn. When the punch landed, pain struck up his shoulder like a bite, and he grunted.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Jay said, lowering his raised hands. Jungwon grit his teeth, patting his shoulder with the gloves still intact on his left fist, trying to ignore the crumbling calm.

"Don't ask. I'm having a bad day," he mumbled, leaning back against the sturdy ropes. Jay scoffed.

"Yeah, bet you are. You've been having one of those for days," Jay remarked, ripping off the velcro and dropping the punching pads to the corner. Jungwon watched, gaze wavering between reality and his memories.

The effect you had was magnetic and he didn't know if he liked how his thoughts all drifted to you, your lovely words, the sparkle in your eyes that seemed to fuel his igniting love.

Jungwon leaned over the thick, sturdy ropes, observing the other boxers loitering around the platforms, or having a quiet snack on the benches. One thing that did startled him out of his daze was the door creaking open harshly.

It hit the wall, a bang clattering through, and Jungwon tensed slightly upon seeing a neat and put-together dude. He had black hair, messy and loose like he had not bothered to brush most of it, and had a black shirt with pants.

The slight quirk of his eyebrows as he scanned the room gave the impression that he didn't stumble onto her on purpose. The smug smirk sent Jungwon's composure on another lake of fragility.

Jay stood straight, leaning over the ropes. "Um, are you lost or something? Never seen you around here before."

Said man gazed at Jay, then to Jungwon's prickly scowl before smiling diligently. He waved a hand in dismissal.

"I'm okay. I know where I am, but you're right about me never being around here before," he began to say, his voice deep, lingering in the air sharply.

"Can I ask why you're here? You don't look... appropriately dressed," Jungwon said with a tilt of his head.

"Doesn't mean I'm oblivious in my destinations. I can still grapple just as efficiently in trousers and a shirt." He grinned at Jungwon, making the mental tightrope tremble more.

This dude gave him an overwhelming wave of off intuition.

"I hardly believe that." Jungwon fired back, making some of the people on the room silence, and for Jay to give subtle jabs of warning through his narrowed eyes. Though, Jungwon was blind and could not see anything except the handsome man on a black attire that only seemed too inappropriately dressed for boxing.

The man smiled, but it was unsettling, like there was something locked away, concealed. He walked up to the platform Jungwon was stood on and tilted his head.

"You wanna bet?"

Jungwon instantly had all his composure and logic fly out the window and melt as he furrowed his brows. This dude had the audacity to challenge him, to question the strength of his skills that he built brick by brick.

Leaning over the sturdy strings, he glared down at the said dude. "Yeah. Bet."

That's how Jungwon found himself opposite the smartly-dressed dude wearing boxing gloves. It was infuriating. Not only was he wearing trousers, not even fit to stretch for comfort, but he was wearing shiny, smart shoes.

The type that glared when the light hit them, and they were slightly pointy. How ugly was that. Jungwon scowled deeper, the bitterness twisting in sharply, making him get into the stance.

"I'm Sunghoon, by the way," the man said as he circled around the opposite side. Jay watched cautiously from one of the empty corners. Jungwon didn't give two shits and scoffed.

"I don't care," he said before circling closer, swiftly and with impatience tainting his movements. He lunged forward on his left, right, then jabbed with both hands.

Sunghoon defended, bringing both hands up to cover his face. He grit his teeth before seeing the oppurtunity, and delivered an upper hook to Jungwon's stomach.

A small grunt left him, but he knew it wasn't hard. Recovering from the slight ache clutching his skin, Jungwon recoiled back a few steps.

What was wrong with him? His movements weren't usually so sloppy, and he could normally predict the next moves and construct a defense, a response before it even played out.

Now? Oh, now his skills felt shadowed. Out of the light, and it peeved him greatly.

Sunghoon circled again, assessing and scanning Jungwon head to toe, as if he possessed the same ability to predict his punches. How? To Jungwon, his skills couldn't be mirrored.

Maybe he was really having a bad day.

Narrowing his gaze, Jungwon huffed a breath and lunged forward. A dance from his left, right, left again and jabbing with force.

Sunghoon scowled, shifting to his left. The oppurtunity shined to him and Jungwon delivered a rounded and swift hook to Sunghoon's jaw, making him stumble back.

He couldn't help the satisfaction swarm his ego, but he didn't want to let it get to his head before the match was over, though.

Fire flamed in Sunghoon's gaze. Before he knew it, Sunghoon side-stepped quickly, deceiving Jungwon as he shifted from his right to the left. Not being able to keep up, Jungwon stumbled back when a harsh ache rippled through his right side.

Gritting his teeth to avoid the bubbling anger, he went to strike when Jay appeared, intervening with a stern glance. "That's enough."

Jungwon and Sunghoon panted slightly, recovering from the brief match that probably lasted a minute. Jungwon wouldn't mind if he had 5 more minutes to beat the ego and shit out of this cocky, rich dude.

Someone needed to knock that smugness off his high horse.

"Jay hyung, what gives?" Jungwon muttered with a flicker of frustration. Jay scoffed and crossed his arms, still standing defensively between the two.

"First of all, this dude isn't dressed properly," Jay said, nudging a thumb in Sunghoon's direction, who was ripping the velcro off the gloves. "And second, you haven't been having the best streak of practice."

Jungwon's ears flamed alight, the embarrassment from all his inept punches and techniques catching up to him. He didn't want to think about it, but when he did, the anger crashed down like merciless hail.

Just everywhere and undeniably jarring.

"I don't care. He wanted a match, I was about to give him one," Jungwon snapped at his best friend, who already had disbelief stitched into the lines of his face.

Sunghoon scoffed, shoving the gloves off to the floor, facing Jungwon. "It wasn't like you were winning."

"Oh, yeah? Let's finish the match right now—"

Jay intercepted, putting a hand on Jungwon's shoulder before his ferocity could act out. With a firm glare, Jay spoke. "Don't. We're not finishing anything. You need to calm down, even you, shiny shoe dude."

Sunghoon shrugged, not minding the weird name.

Jungwon slumped his shoulders, the anger gripping his head with thick claws, making it impossible to even think without glaring. He just hard the desperate urge to pummel his face until it was bleeding, until his own arm cramped.

Jay sighed and pushed Jungwon softly in an attempt to get him away from that pit of anger he was falling into. "Go, Jungwon."

He would have followed his hyung's orders had it not been for that imperceptible smirk curled at Sunghoon's lips. It made him look weak, as if he let Sunghoon run past the finishing line, when Jungwon hadn't even unleashed his full potential.

For what reason Jungwon felt so pertubed, he had no idea. Maybe it was because this Sunghoon dude was everything he was not. Money seemed to exude off him like his own personal scent, whilst Jungwon had cat hair clung to his trousers.

Ripping off the damn punching gloves, he discarded them before shoving past Jay to jab a finger at Sunghoon. "You think you won this?"

Sunghoon simply smirked, tilting his head with hands tucked into his pockets. "I don't need to say it, do I?"

"Nothing has been proved. Come back here this Friday, and then you can 'prove' yourself before an audience," Jungwon muttered with stones of hatred embedded in his tone. Sunghoon just scanned, unmoving.

Then, he sighed and nodded dismissively. "Fine. This Friday. I want to make it fair."

No words came to mind as he saw Sunghoon manoeuvring himself to the ground and dust his hands as if it was an easy task. But, to Jungwon, there was a stronger flame engulfing his thoughts and nerves, blinding him in the rage.

Jay, to say the least, was not impressed.

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The Tuesday was slow and, surprisingly, peaceful. Classes moved at a snail pace, lectures lasted for miles, and the only thing that kept you energised was the fact that Jungwon proposed to take you out today to a café.

One that he randomly found on tiktok and sent to you at midnight like the impulsive nocturnal he was. But, you weren't any better because you also lived as the night owl in your home.

The night held a different serenity. The silence was the constant melody that accompanied you in the late hours of night no matter how unhealthy it made your sleep schedule.

Refraining a yawn, the lecturer soon ended the class, and you packed everything up swiftly to get out of there. Three hours of that was enough to make a crack in your mindspace.

Today was going to be good—going to eat out with your boyfriend, share stories and secret jokes that tightened your bond even more.

Pushing past the glass doors, you descended the stairs and saw the familiar, black car with a familiar figure leaning on the door. A smile instantly appeared on your lips when you saw Jungwon looking cosy in his black hoodie and pants, his blonde hair reaching past his ears to form a messy style of a mullet.

"Won!" You exclaimed, jogging to him as he smirked at you, arms opening with an immediate welcome. Crashing into his arms, you engulfed him with your cheek on his warm chest. A minty scent pervaded from his neck, and you nudged your nose at him with a satisfied hum.

"You smell good," you commented, peering up at him. He chuckled with mirth before pinching your cheek.

"For my girl, of course," he said as you whined in feigned pain, swatting his hand away. Eventually, his sneaky hands glided around your waist and settled there, like home.

"What's the first thing on the agenda?" You asked excitedly. Jungwon pretended to ponder, eyes leaving yours as if to recapture his memories before returning to yours.

"Food, food, and more food." He lowered his lips and pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. The warmth travelled up your neck and cheeks, fully rendering you to his merciless affection.

"Perfect plan," you said with a nod.

"Of course it is, I planned it," he remarked, squeezing your waist a little before hauling you with him to the car. You laughed, holding onto his shoulders.

"I can walk, you know?" You giggled as he spun you around and firmly pinned you to the passenger door, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

"It's fine to carry you. You're like my personal accessory. I wish I could carry you in my pocket," he said, leaning in with words becoming closer and more intimate.

At his comment, you shook your head with an amused scoff. "Says you. Everything you do is cute. I want to put you in my pocket."

Acting offended, he put a heart to his chest as he tilted his head with a silly smirk gracing his lips. "You wound me, princess."

You and him shared laughter for a few seconds before he saw the light die out in your eyes, your gaze darting behind him, and your grin crumbled.

Jungwon, the ever curious one, did the same and squeezed your waist in worry.

"What's wrong?" He asked carefully as your gaze flickered back to him with newfound worry rising to the surface.

"I..."

You couldn't say anything, and with slight impatient curiosity, Jungwon turned over his shoulder, wondering what had gotten you all flustered like that.

It wasn't the sight he wanted to see, though: walking towards you and him with deliberate ease was Sunghoon, his crisp white shirt underneath his black blazer standing out in the somewhat empty street.

Even those damn shoes tapped like a death knell approaching you and him. Jungwon's gaze darkened, the previous jokes and humour vanishing in a flash, as if the rage he stored away had burned it all.

This dude must be following Jungwon. Of course. Why else would this dude have any speck of audacity to confront you and him like this? The urge to deliver a clean punch with just his knuckles was strong, the instinct like gravity.

The thing is, Sunghoon wasn't even looking at Jungwon with surprise—he was looking at you, as if he had discovered something odd and strange.

You shifted uncomfortably in his arms, leaning off the car and untangling yourself from him slightly, apprehension laced in your actions.

"Y/n, what are you—" Jungwon tried to mumble when Sunghoon called your name like old friends or something. The initial shock was a whip to his thoughts.

"It's funny meeting you here..." Sunghoon finally came within distance, smiling dangerously as he glanced at you, then Jungwon. Jungwon knew that he was commenting some kind of dots, that there was a clockwork of thoughts chiming inside that asshole's head.

Protective, Jungwon stepped forward. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

From the side, he could sense your confused glances between the two of them. Sunghoon simply tilted his head, jerking his head to you in a gesture.

"I was going to pick Y/n up," he replied easily, hands snug in his pockets. There it was again—another strike of confusion forming on the skin of his thoughts. Sunghoon knew your damn name.

"How the hell do you know her name?"

This time, Sunghoon gave an amused look before speaking.

"Well... this is truly funny," Sunghoon said with a slight scoff before darting his eyes to you, as if he had caught you in a web of acts. You quickly glanced away to Jungwon, who was blinking away.

But, Jungwon wasn't satisfied, his questions pricking him as he turned to you and Sunghoon.

"What the fuck is going on?" Jungwon muttered, impatience dappling his tone, and you could clearly see it.

Sunghoon chuckled and stepped towards your stiff stature, jabbing a thumb in your direction. "She hasn't told you?"

Now, the impatience was slowly burning his composure right on the spot. He grit his teeth, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

A sigh escaped your lips, full of more worry of how to untangle this situation because it looks so wrong. Jungwon glanced to you, trying to soften his gaze.

"What haven't you told me?" He asked, taking a step closer to you with somewhat desperation. You know you couldn't hide it anymore. Not when Sunghoon decided to shove you right into the fire.

And, it wasn't fair to him either—to hide the secret that was Sunghoon and his courtship. Gulping hard, you glanced at Jungwon.

"... My parents wanted... they did this a few weeks ago. They wanted to set me up," you began saying, your voice barely fighting past the guilt. Jungwon narrowed his gaze.

"A few—do you mean two weeks ago?" He interjected with his body bolting with tension in every joint, thinking of those times you blew him off for those dates.

The panic seized your nerves, and you quickly stepped to him. "Yes, but I literally decided that I didn't want to do this! So, I don't know why Sunghoon is even here."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as it was all turned on him, staring at you as if he was calculating something before a glint shone through his eyes. You didn't want to find out why.

"Don't tell me... this is your secret boyfriend. And you haven't told your parents?" He scoffed, smiling with those menacing fangs peeking through. The doubt fully cracked Jungwon's composure now, the insecurities of the past few weeks rising to the ground and wringing around his ankles.

"That's not the point. I asked why you are here?" You interjected quickly with somewhat impatience as you glared up at him. Sunghoon just grinned.

"I wanted another chance to explain to you why our parents think we're a good match. But, I no longer think I need to be the one explaining," Sunghoon answered slyly.

Jungwon looked down, breathing slowly through his nose before staring at Sunghoon, thinking of so many things to say to this asshole, and to you.

"And, I'm not the only one who needs an explanation," Sunghoon added on as he looked to the brooding Jungwon, as if he recognised him. That's where your confusion sprouted.

"How do you...?"

"Boxing. The other day, we had a somewhat pleasant match, but we couldn't 'prove' ourselves," Sunghoon answered quickly, and neither you and Jungwon missed the smug tone buried beneath it. He clenched his fists tighter.

"I didn't know that." You glanced at Sunghoon, but he just let out a huff of amusement.

"I didn't know this either. But, hey, we all got secrets, don't we." Sunghoon crossed his arms, the mirth pricking all his words and the way he stood and gave you the same look. His words stung you, the hypocrisy in your own actions swinging back at you as you tried to divert the topic.

"I told you we wouldn't work out," you exclaimed in distress. Jungwon didn't understand how deep you and this dude went, but he knew for sure, that he disliked it deeply. He stared at you now.

Sunghoon dismissively waved his hand, fueling your irritation and desperation more. You huffed, running a hand through your hair before firmly turning to the taller male.

"Sunghoon. Leave. Please." You uttered the last bit with a prickle if desperation, observing how his resolve crumbled. He shrugged, giving one last look to you before narrowing his gaze at Jungwon.

Then, he sauntered away.

The silence between you and him could have measured mountains as you shifted on your feet, too apprehensive to even meet your boyfriend's eyes. Even from here, you could sense the questions he wanted to press.

"I... I can explain—" You tried to say, but Jungwon whirled around, lips pursed, shoulders tight as much as his jaw. You realised the delicacy of his mind right now, the trust dimming in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't you tell me? What...?" Jungwon groaned quietly, running both palms down his face in an attempt to rub off the exasperation in his features. You stepped forward, your thoughts jumbled in a mess.

"I... I didn't think it was important," you uttered, to which he scoffed now, hands by his side.

"You didn't think that it was important to tell me someone was courting you? That your family set you up? You know what?" Jungwon shook his head, eyes darting frantically as he crossed his arms in disbelief. "That's not the point. You could have taken the chance to tell them you're already dating someone."

Here it was again—the idea of pulling back the curtains to expose Jungwon to your parents. "Jungwon, I can't do that!"

"Why?" Jungwon snapped back in a way that shocked you. But, he didn't care. He stepped forward, putting a hand on his chest when you didn't reply.

"I know why," he began saying before adding on, "You're embarrassed of me."

Shock and denial mirrored in your own gaze whe you shook your head. Jungwon found it hard to believe anything else.

What other reason was there to hide the love blossoming between you and him, the unique petals that grew from the seed of your bond? No one else could replicate it the way you and him have. Yet, here you were, putting him deeper past the curtains into isolation.

The thought brought small shards of doubt and hurt to prick his nerves, to make his stomach tighten until he felt sick.

"I'm not embarrassed, Jungwon—"

"Then, why won't you tell them? Huh? To protect me?" Jungwon almost could laugh as he shook his head again, the denial and pain clashing together in a fight he couldn't predict.

The first fight he couldn't predict.

"No, you did this shit to protect yourself!"

You involuntarily flinched at the harshness in his words, but with your voice seemingly lost, Jungwon went on.

"Why do you let them do this to you? I get it—they want what's best for you, but do they get a decision in every part of your life? Over me?" Jungwon asked again, some of his voice losing its edge, but the anger was undeniably shadowing it. Your frown weighed deeper.

"I don't want to lose you. If my parents find out—"

"I don't give a shit about your parents. If it's us, then you should believe in that!"

Anger engulfed, suffocated you like a thick fog, forcing your thoughts and words so quickly that you didn't process your next remark.

"Of course you would say that when you ran away from yours."

The silence stilled him again as your words physically twisted his chest. He could almost spot the regret quickly forging in your eyes, but he was fixated on one thing.

When he told you his past, he told you that in complete confidence, to let his own anguish be lifted off his shoulders. He didn't expect it to be made into a weapon of steel that left him speechless and bewildered. No matter how much anger was brewing in him, the aftertaste of hurt lingered bitterly.

He stepped back, and you shakily stepped forward, remorse flooding your eyes and extinguishing that irritation. Though, Jungwon didn't want to hear it.

"J-Jungwon, I didn't mean that—"

He didn't listen, stepping back with a lump caught in his throat, his head on the verge of erupting. It was too warm, too suffocating despite being outside in the chilly weather. Heck, he wasn't even looking at you.

Yes, he left his parents because their control was like enduring constant stabs to his sanity. If he stayed any more, he would have been a shell of himself, a body with no soul to move him forward. Thinking of home now, he didn't want to retrace those footsteps.

His eyes met your teary ones, acknowledging the guilt beginning to ripen. His own breaths quivered but he forced himself to speak.

"I did. Yeah. But because they controlled me. You think I don't know controlling parents? I do. But I did something about it. It's about time you did as well. Stop latching on to everything they give you." He was breathless by the end of it but the message was firm and unmoving in his gaze.

It forced a shudder to pervade your body, the guilt growing like a toxic plant that only you were to be blamed for. Another step forward, but you flinched as Jungwon put a hand up to prevent anything else.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as he backed away, the agony storming in his eyes, the way he clenched his jaw a little tighter. You couldn't stop him.

You didn't want to stop him because deep down, you knew how he had wrung out the truth and found the seeds of reason as to why you kept him hidden.

It was your fault.

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THREE DAYS.

That's how long the silence stretched on for. And it was killing you. The more you sat and thought about his points, his anger, the more valid you found it to be.

How could you? The realisation struck deeper than any blade could, making you want to just scream and rewind the clock.

But, you couldn't, and you had no idea how to start off the conversation when you had offended him and practically watered his insecurity into a full-fledged plant.

University was rough, and on this fateful Friday morning, you gave in to the sickness plauging your mind and stayed in bed. Your mother didn't question it, but you know she would mumble about it later under her breath, and then depend on the wind to mask it.

When you had finally dressed into something more casual and washed up, you stared down at your phone, the reflection speaking to you in more ways than one.

Not only did you keep him hidden, but you also used his past against him. Whatever indignation you had at that moment crumbled like sand. You had no reason, no justification for the way you turned on him—and for what? To fabricate your own flawed actions? The look in his eyes pummelled you with stones.

Not telling your parents was a weak wall you had built to save yourself from lectures, from the disapproval that would have grown from telling them. But, you knew it wasn't worth the guilt that had blossomed in its place.

If you really thought about it, his insecurities had risen to the surface many times, chilling the conversations into awkwardness, and instead of melting away those internal problems, you just allowed it to freeze something unknown in the relationship.

You should have asked him how to solve this problem. Not how it would affect you: after all, two people make a relationship tick in perfect clockwork, and you only thought about yourself.

You groaned to yourself quietly, facing your ceiling now as you flopped back on your pillows, the stinging remorse burning your chest until tears rose to your eyes. It wouldn't do. The iciness would prevail unless you went out yourself to find him and his warmth.

A knock came on the door, and you lifted your head when your mother came in with some water and tea steaming up from a cup, all placed on a wooden tray.

Discreetly, you wiped your tears as she settled down the tray on your bedside table, sighing slightly. "Do you feel better?"

"Somewhat. Thanks." You took the cup of tea, the sweet scent and steam hitting your nose. When the liquid warmed your throat, it reminded you of the chill remaining in your bones.

She straightened, crossed her arms calculatingly. You didn't like how she was standing so you sipped your tea again.

"By the way..." she began saying as she sat on your bed. "Have you talked to Sunghoon? I still haven't been updated on whether or not you like him. He seems quite interested in you."

That name nearly made your eyes roll. Sunghoon—the dude that secretly boxed and then had the audacity to seek you out after purposely breaking the boundaries. He didn't seem to care.

Not only that, but the distaste he practically struck at Jungwon was clear from the way his narrowed gaze and smug smirk had appeared. It infuriated you, as if Jungwon was something beneath his shoe.

You shook your head, holding your cup tighter. "I don't like him. I thought Sunghoon said that."

"He didn't though. And why do you not like him? He comes from a respectable family?" She asked again and again.

The words almost made you cringe, the irony on them clashing in your head. Respectable? More like arrogant.

"He's not my type." You huffed, and your mother narrowed her gaze.

"Then, what is your type? It just seems like an excuse," she accused again, the slight sharpness cutting into her tone.

Instantly, you thought of Jungwon: he had those big, brown eyes, and they held galaxies within them whenever he was with you, when he took care of the cats at the café. His blonde fluffy hair and the small giggles he would let out that had the ability to draw you away from reality and replay it like a melody you desired to hear for centuries.

Most importantly, his support and understanding. Things he easily practised and sculpted with no trouble. He was so selfless.

And you failed to realise that.

Realising your mother was still awaiting an answer, the urge to just go find Jungwon grew. But, you want to make things right if you were to ever make you and him right.

"Mother. I don't. Like. Him." You sighed, putting the cup down onto the bedside table. She sighed, rubbing a hand to her temple, as if you had broken a valuable item.

"Why?"

"Because I just... don't," you said again, standing up as you went to your vanity, needing physical space before you lashed out.

Jungwon's name crept up your stomach, your chest and his presence swarmed your system. Your mother stood as well.

"That's not a reason, Y/n," she remarked back. And, you realised you had gotten her argumentative tendencies, hearing a lot of yourself.

You faced her again, Jungwon's warm presence once again wrapping around every thought in your mind, locking into each corner of your head.

"I just don't want him—"

"Are you serious? He's smart and respectable, and he would take care of you." She started listing off.

But, he wasn't like Jungwon.

"He's even secure, he would listen to you."

Not like Jungwon.

"And, I don't understand why you're holding back when I'm trying to help you—"

Your composure shattered as you snapped your eyes to her.

"Because I already have a boyfriend!"

You stood there, shoulders and body tense as your mother's face morphed from disbelief and shock to some kind of frustration that hardened instantly.

The silence was a heavy blanket, suffocating you instantly as you shifted on your feet. Then, your mother stepped forward once.

"You already have one?" She said quietly, her tone bruising. You lost your voice in that moment, so you just nodded once.

"Who? And why wouldn't you tell me?" She snapped again, making that familiar irritation grow in your chest.

"... I... I met him at a café."

"And? Who is he? Does he have a well job—"

"He works at the café." You corrected her, your voice dimming slightly as her eyes widened. You thought her damn eyeballs would fall out of their sockets.

"Works at a café? Y/n, what were you thinking?" She exclaimed.

"I'm thinking that this is a nice guy. And I really like him," you began saying, your arms falling to your sides, meeting her gaze with truth.

Jungwon had managed to leave a permanent print on you, a print full of colours and sweetness, of vibrant fun to light up your world.

"And, I don't care that he works at a café. He treats me so well, and he might not have a degree like you want people to, but I don't care," you explained with sincerity.

Your mother nearly gasped, running a hand over her temple again with stiffness. "He doesn't have a degree? Are you even thinking of your future?"

"I am! He would treat me well in the future! I'm not a child! I know who he is," you exclaimed again, voice rising against her own condescension, her oncoming tide of a lecture. She narrowed her gaze.

"I... I can't believe it." She touched her forehead again as if you had inflicted a disease on her. You grit your teeth, deciding it was enough.

On absolute impulse, you stormed to your bag and snatched it before walking right past her. She scurried after you, eyes threaded with clamouring alarm.

Y/n—"

Completely ignoring her, you walked right out of the house whilst she trailed after you with countless protests.

But no more would she control you or dictate that part of your life. She can't dictate your heart and bend it to her will. Jungwon already had it, and it was his to cherish.

You practically jogged down the street and realised she stopped chasing but you were moving, and found yourself ordering a taxi and speeding away. There could only be one place that Jungwon could be that you could think of.

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The cate café was still lit up by the time you were there, and you wasted no time in entering and rushing into the space. As you put the slippers on, you slid open the door to find the flurry of cats wandering about.

The sight would have calmed you if Jungwon wasn't on your mind. Without batting an eye, you strolled up to the counter to see Jay working on the till, tapping something. When he saw you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you," he said with a slight smile. No doubt he's probably heard what happened between you and Jungwon, the pure selfishness you expressed.

Clearing your throat, you glanced up. "Is Jungwon here?"

Jay gave you a resigned look, shoulders slumping in a way that made your heart twist with dread.

"He asked me to cover for him." Jay sighed, something flashing through his gaze. You caught onto it, staring unmovingly until the desperation made you lean onto the counter.

"Do you know where he is. I need to talk to him." You blinked at Jay as he shifted in his place, eyes darting to and fro as if watching his thoughts run and crash into each other. "Please."

Jay glimpsed at your eager expression, and sighed. But, he nodded, which meant it worked.

"He's... he's at a boxing match," Jay finally said. Your heart leapt, too many thoughts rising. The guilt had released its poison again, making your eyes shut to recover.

A boxing match. With an audience, probably. You can't just wait for him. You were about to thank him when Jay interjected again.

"He has a match with this guy. This new, rich guy. It was a bet," he said, making the description describe Sunghoon perfectly from those brief words.

Then, the worry took its new place in your thoughts, floating thickly, chilling your body. He was fighting Sunghoon? No, no, no. Not that you minded Sunghoon getting beat up, but you don't want him to see Sunghoon and then have his insecurities jab at him again.

"You have to take me," you burst out again, holding the counter tightly. Jay hesitated before glancing at the clock. A few seconds later, he shrugged.

"Yeah, fuck it. Only an hour left of the shift," he muttered before flinging off his apron. "Help me close up."

With rushed actions, you helped Jay out with the cats, closing up the shop and then hopping into his car as he drove deeper into town. All the while, your hands twiddled over each other in your lap as you tried to think of what to say to Jungwon.

He was worth everythin —worth every lecture and look of disapproval. After all, this was your life, and, for once, you wanted to hold the pen and write down what you wanted.

The early evening sky approached over Seoul, light rekindling to the lamps on the roads and pavements. The closer you got to your destination, the more your urge grew to just jump out the car and run there yourself.

Jay would have joked about your state, but you seemed genuinely distressed and didn't comment on it as he steered into the next road.

Once parked, you and Jay got out, the darkness casting shadows over the narrow alleyway. Jay didn't stutter with directions as he led you down the path and back into the familiar alleyway.

You didn't question it, too eager to reach Jungwon and pour out your apologies for everything you had done.

Once reaching the dark doors, it was as if you were walking into a void from how absent the light was. Hesitating slightly, you pushed through it, the determination rising again.

When you walked forward a little too quickly, you bumped into Jay's back as he yelped.

"Sorry," you mumbled. He waved it off, even though you didn't see it, and helped you into the open light of the normal boxing ring, the slightly flickering lights, and the emptiness that surrounded it.

Just like before, you and him went down that dim corridor until reaching the thick metal door. Jay was the one to push it and let out the roar of cheers and encouragement.

The room was just the same as before, but this time, it was busier, it had more seats and tables filled with drinks and plastic cups, the shop-bought lights blaring brightly at the one platform that had two men fighting on it.

People clustered around the platform, cursing or cheering, a concoction of both that truly displayed the violence they were eager to bet on.

Jay led you in, and then turned his head a few times, but grew defeated. Leaning in close to you, he said, "I'll look for Jungwon in the locker room. You stay here in case you see him."

Agreeing to that plan, you let Jay go to be left alone with the crowd and your potential regret.

You were making a thousand different strategies to apologise, and even then, you couldn't even create a clear path of that. Everything was too disorderly.

You should have written a damn letter on why you were a terrible girlfriend.

When the cheers reached a peak, you glanced up to see one of the men, the black hair, blue jacket, and sharp nose. You nearly gawked as you saw Sunghoon triumphantly raise his arm in victory.

The host gestured for someone to drag the other dude off the platform, and the unease that surrounded Sunghoon was now too much to ignore. The smugness in his face was persistent as ever, soiling your memories and comfort towards him.

"The new guy has won two fights so far!" The host exclaimed, earning another nonchalant smirk from Sunghoon.

For some reason, this felt too horrid. As if Sunghoon's smile was purely because of the abrasive hits he had managed to get down, to almost build a ladder that his ego could climb and never come down from. It was purely a reach for dominance and internal power. It made you sick.

You gripped the pillar tighter, watching as Sunghoon scnneded the crowd before the host started grinning again.

"And so, for the next round, we have one of our best fighters attending! Let's see if our new guy can beat him. You know what they say—the third time is the lucky charm!" He exclaimed into the mic, and the crowd erupted again into ferocious cheers that forced your heart to pump faster.

You didn't like those words, the anticipation it had leaking into your veins like ice. As you watched closely, the host moved, and the people whistled and cheered again as a familiar blonde hopped onto the stage with big, white gloves.

When you saw the blonde locks, no doubt you knew it was Jungwon, and you were right. It was him, but there was a tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw and the burrowed eyebrows. Even his brown eyes held a black hole there instead of a million stars.

You don't know whether it's because your relationship had smashed to the ground, or if Sunghoon's face was a clear target that provoked him. Or both. It was rational in a way.

But the sight of him tugged on your heart. The sharp gaze made your heart flutter in the midst of all of this coldness. As if your silly heart still managed to find a way to be drawn to his warmth and grow alive again.

The urge to stop him and just kiss him right there was a good idea if only you didn't have social anxiety and if you had already talked to him. Which you didn't.

The host grinned again, sly. "A juicy bet, this one. Remember to put your money in! And then, the fight can commence!"

People shifted and manoeuvred, but all you could focus on was the heavy steps Jungwon did as he circled around, Sunghoon doing the same as they kept their distance. Arrogance was a badge that Sunghoon wore visibly, the smirk living on his lips whilst a frown prevailed on Jungwon's.

The crowd thickened again, and you didn't realise people joining and entering, but you knew there was no way of getting to the front unless you wanted to become the people's personal rug. You kept to the pillar, leaning on it.

"Okay! Is everyone ready for the next fight?"

The crowd basically yelled in response, some not even speaking, just screaming. The host laughed and then gestured something. Sunghoon and Jungwon came to the centre and bumped fists. Jungwon's jaw ticked even more.

The host grinned and moved back out of the ring before a sudden bell went off. You held your breath.

Sunghoon lunged first with a bold jab which Jungwon defended, lifting both arms vertically to display his veiny arms.

There you go again, staring at something irrelevant like a new teenager. As if he wasn't your boyfriend.

When Sunghoon rained down on the jabs at his defensive arms, Jungwon slid to the right and delivered a hook to pummel his ribs, and then delivering an uppercut to his jaw that sent the crowd in a blaze of excitement.

Sunghoon recoiled and recovered in an instant and backed away, circling from the attack. Jungwon, however, he was tracking him, following his footsteps, a sudden fire igniting within when he hunched his shoulders and got into stance again.

Sunghoon sneered and, once again, lunged with a ferocious uppercut to Jungwon's stomach, and he kept going at it.

You gasped, straightening as you saw Jungwon's face contort in pain, but he used that oppurtunity to rain down punches on Sunghoon's nape and shoulders, delivering three sharp ones before Sunghoon faltered and moved away.

There was a slight slither of satisfaction in your stiff body, and you stepped closer for a better look, the lights from above hitting your eyes.

This time, the crowd almost gave a collected groan and laugh, as if they were mocking Sunghoon. It seemed to egg him on as he straightened, glaring at Jungwon as he circled about again like two opposing lions in a battle.

You saw Sunghoon say something to Jungwon, something that made Jungwon's composure break as he suddenly charged forward.

The crowd gasped and roared in exhilaration as Jungwon jabbed at Sunghoon's torso, unhinged and unrestrained. Sunghoon brought his weight to his left, then swiftly to his right.

Jungwon wasn't ready for it and stumbled back harshly when Sunghoon delivered a hook to his back and a jab to his side.

Your breath hitched, eyes trained on a retreating Jungwon, taking his eyes off Sunghoon to the crowd, towards you.

When your gazes met, electricity shot through you, making you straighten your posture. You wanted to tell him so much, but he was the first to look away when Sunghoon slowly approached again.

The brief eye contact left you hollow, empty, and your shoulders deflated slightly.

Jungwon watched closely, a newfound thought clouding his eyes when Sunghoon smirked again, fists close to his face.

The crowd was too loud, his body stiff and tired, and his mind burned in exasperation. Jungwon grit his teeth and let Sunghoon shift from foot to foot, getting closer.

When he was close enough, Jungwon stepped on his right and pivoted, ultimately turning his back onto him first, but his elbow collided with Sunghoon's side.

He grumbled, but Jungwon didn't let him recover from the stumble as he let furious punches spitfire at Sunghoon, right at his ribs and side.

He didn't know if he breathed, he didn't know if pain tinged at his knuckles and shoulders, he just hailed down on the hits until Sunghoon stumbled back, tripping over his own feet.

Even with Sunghoon on the ground with his arms vertically up before his face, Jungwon took the chance to stand atop him, aiming the damn punches at Sunghoon's stomach.

Sunghoon groaned in pain, squirming away, and even attempted a shot at getting back at Jungwon, but he only took the oppurtunity to deliver a sharp hook to his jaw.

The people around the platform practically broke into another roar, supporting Jungwon's newfound violence. For some reason, he kept punching, practically raining punched on Sunghoon's face until his hands weakly rested atop his head and when the bell went off.

Sunghoon was on the ground for too long, and the crowd all jeered and yelled in dispute or celebration.

Jungwon stood, not bothering to help Sunghoon up as he glanced up and saw you again, your eyes wide, desperate and sparkling like it always did. The adrenaline kept his thoughts running, so he turned away and got off the platform.

That made you walk. He can't leave you there. Your chest was too tight and holding too much to just suppress back into your head and bury away.

Remembering that locker room again, you retraced your steps as you walked around the crowd, rushing into the familiar grey hallway, pushing past the doors.

You saw the way he best Sunghoon. As if he was reassuring himself of something, something to prove. But he shouldn't need to prove anything to anyone, especially not to you.

You let your own fear control your love life, play you like a helpless puppet, and ultimately drain Jungwon of the love he deserved.

Once approaching the familiar locker doors, you flinched when Jay was the one to open it, eyes almost holding an epiphany.

"Jay..." you said breathlessly. He rubbed the back of his head.

"He came in here just now. In the shower," he said, stepping out into the hallway before you. Normally, the thought of him showering would be too intimate, but you were more eager to fix the cracks in the very trust you had broken

"Thank you, Jay."

You didn't wait for a response before bursting into the room, the small locker room empty except the shower running in the adjacent room. You bit your lip, fighting yourself on waiting for him or to talk to him from behind the curtain.

Your thoughts were splintering, about to burst past the dam that held you back. The surge of impatience was hard to suppress, and you entered the shower area with hope that it was only Jungwon occuyping the stall.

To your luck, you only heard one, and a single curtain was drawn at the utmost end of the bathroom.

"Jungwon?" You called out, your voice slightly held back, testing the waters. The shower turned off, and you heard movement, but nothing that was his voice.

Taking it as a cue to move forward, you inched closer to his curtain, fingers twiddling, the worry and burden of your own thoughts anchoring at your feet, like rusted shackles.

"Won. I... you don't need to talk because... you don't need to argue. I'm here to apologise. I was an idiot," you began saying, the lump in your throat forging through like steel.

"You know that, but... I don't want to lose you. And... I got so mad. I shouldn't have. I should have listened to you, but I got angry because... I didn't want to accept that you were right." You shakily breathed, head dipped as tears welled at your eyes.

You felt pathetic, but you wanted to push through it because he wasn't to blame.

"I... I am scared of my parents, and that just made it easier for them to control. I should have... I should have told you about Sunghoon, and I should have told them earlier about you. Because, Jungwon, you are so good for me. You're literally... the best thing I have ever had, believe it or n-not," you said with a slightly breathless and sad chuckle.

You sniffled, tears running down your cheeks silently, the vulnerability seeping through with every streak of tears.

"I can't... buy this anywhere else. You're seriously... a r-rare kind. You're not something I could ever buy. You're just... a miracle. I shouldn't have kept you a secret."

You let out another quivering breath, the silence threatening your composure even more as you wiped your eyes.

"You don't need to f-forgive me, even if I have told my mother about you. I just want you to know that you helped me at least take the first step," you said more quietly, not realising the quiet figure that stepped out from behind the curtain.

You kept going, the dam now freely flowing, streams of thoughts rushing out. "And... I love you, you know? You seriously... have given me so much. And, I didn't even try the same for you."

A hand cupped your jaw, lifted your face as your breath hitched in alarm. There he was, the anger distant now, with something softer and understanding. Guilt. Which you didn't understand. He was wearing a white t-shirt, black slacks, and he looked fresh.

The bruise on his jaw formed, but he didn't care as he stepped closer, both thumbs stroking your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You didn't deserve this much sincerity.

"Stop... stop apologising," he said softly, not being able to endure anymore tears blinding the sparkle in your eyes.

You weren't having it, though, your arms encircling his waist, face digging into his chest with more tears running down your cheeks. You don't even know why he's apologising when you were the one that created the hurdle.

He sighed, his arms tightly locking around your body, a cheek pressed to your forehead as if it was the only way he could connect any deeper with you.

"I don't like seeing you cry," he whispered, his own voice trembling. When you heard the quiver, your eyes lifted to see the remorse etched into his face, the frown anchoring his lips. "You don't need to apologise."

"But, I do. This... this all happened because of me. And I was totally out of line. And—"

Jungwon placed a finger on your parted lips, silencing your breathless self. He managed a small smile, but it wasn't completely weaved with joy. Just slight endearment and apprehension.

"To make you feel better, I forgive you, Y/n." He touched your tearful cheek, wiping away the guilt staining your skin. He didn't want to have you feel all that burden.

Confusion sparkled again in those gaze of yours.

"I forgive you. Even if... that comment did hurt, I know it wasn't... from a bad place. I know you have expectations to meet, but I also knew you were holding yourself back." Jungwon held your shoulders now, melting away the iceberg that froze in the center of your chest. "Do you know how much that hurts me? Seeing you have to hide something you love?"

You knew all too well how hard it was to even talk against your parents. The loyalty was a noose around your neck, and you had no courage to pull it apart.

He lifted your chin again when you glanced down, firm, wanting your utmost attention. "You shouldn't even have to feel scared. They shouldn't have that power over you. I just wanted to help you."

"I know... I'm so sorry, Won," you mumbled tearfully, and he smiled in sympathy again, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.

"What did I say about apologising?" He said softly, his tone dry of any type of command. Even then, you wiped your eyes, seeing his features even more now.

"I should have told you," You said again, voice hoarse as you wiped away your tears with your sleeves. He nodded, agreeing with you but the blame dimmed within you. It was just him and understanding.

One of the things you absolutely adored about him. Even after all of this, he still held the highest standards of care, making sure it was the most significant thing he needed to consider.

He held your shoulders, lips pursing and releasing a sigh through his nose. "I just don't want you hiding."

After all of this, he still spoke to you with softness, mellow demands and pleas. It took you everything not to apologise again.

"I know. I realise it now. You are right. And, I don't want to lose you," you said, gazing up at him again, the warmth of his hands grounding you.

"Me either. I could have... reacted better. I'm sorry for that," he said, thumbs rubbing the edges of your collarbone through your shirt.

You held his wrists, smiling after a while actually. "N-no. You didn't deserve my selfishness."

"You give yourself too much credit." He chuckled lowly again, shaking his head as your hands splayed at his warm chest.

"I think I deserve it. I caused the problem and tried to fix it. I... I told my mother. Let's just see how she takes it," you replied, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, giving him the opportunity to slide his hands to your waist, hugging you once more.

The thought of having to go back, face your mother and her possible lectures unsettled your stomach and appetite. You sighed as he slightly swayed you and him, chin resting softly atop your locks.

"I don't want to go back home," you whispered, sighing. He tightened his grip, stilling, and you noticed it, glancing up. Something was brewing in his eyes, dark, eager.

"Stay with me then." He retorted, voice slightly lower, practically sending your nerves to shudder from the spine down.

His eyes were cloudy, losing touch of reality and its problems. He pulled you closer, your torso bumping into him as your breath hitched.

"Well?" Jungwon murmured when you stayed silent. This was different, exhilarating, and stronger than any kind of pull you had experienced. And your heart thrummed, singing a different song and making you nod.

"Of course."

As soon as you said that, he pushed you back into the shower cubicle, your shoes tapping swiftly on the ground as you gasped. He pressed your back into the damp wall, but you didn't give a care when he crashed his lips to yours, moving desperately and trying to prove something different.

Love, perhaps.

"Mm, I missed you," he murmured against your lips, hooking his hands around you, one at your lower back and another to cup your head. Your eyes were shut, hands clutching his shirt and kissing him.

There were no words needed. The pull you ached for was clearly displayed when you bit his lower lips, now gripping his nape. He groaned loudly, not giving a care on whether anyone would walk in and hear.

The air was heavy, suffocating you in his embrace, but you craved more. You craved the anchoring love of his, the type to keep you rooted to him, even if it consumed your organs and thoughts like water.

Jungwon didn't stop, lips departing only to pepper deep and eager kisses down your jaw, all the way to your ear. Your breath hitched, but he held you tighter, hands skimming down your back until the hem.

As if testing the waters, he deftly untucked your shirt, and you sighed loudly again. You could almost feel his smirk on your skin, travelling down your ear and the side of your throat.

Taking it as a sign, Jungwon's hands dived beneath the fabric, roaming up your bare skin. You hummed again, and he pressed more insistent kisses into your skin, daring to suck.

You groaned breathlessly, your eyes fluttering shut as he pressed you flush to him, his built torso molding against your soft ones.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he groaned against your neck, nipping at the skin, making your breath hitch more, chest heaving against his. You held onto him tighter, feeling his hands running up your bare back, dancing across your spine in a perfected plan until he reached the clasp of your bra.

That alone sent a thousand ripples to shake your composure, a reminder of how he could take you apart and how you would plead for more of that type of destruction.

With his kisses heavy on your throat, you groaned breathily again, arching your body to curve perfectly to his. Jungwon knew his constructed calmness was about to crumble into an avalanche and reduce him to rubble at your feet.

He didn't open it opting to squeeze your sides and kiss your lips again, tongue tracing carefully. There was no patience remaining there and, if there was, it would have been consumed by the heat in your belly.

The slight dim lighting made it better, and you couldn't suppress the slight whimper as he pressed his hips firmly to yours to test your limits.

Jungwon smirked against your lips, departing for a second, and his one hand snaked to your chin, tilting your dazed gaze to his. Your hands stayed on his shoulders, your skin tingling with delight.

Jungwon's own gaze was swarmed with something, more cloudy, stormy with an urge that he couldn't hold back from.

"I could keep you like this all day. And, you would let me, wouldn't you?" He murmured, his teasing words striking you with heat. You fluttered your eyes at him, tilting your head as his warmth ran through you.

"We both know the answer to that," you replied. Jungwon smiled wickedly again.

"You act as if that's something annoying you." He chuckled, lowering his lips to your neck again and completely shattering the weak composure. He kissed, hands returning to your bare back, down to your hip and forcing you closer to him.

"Well, a shower room is not the place I imagined this to be happening," you remarked with a voice failing to hold together. He laughed lowly again, his smugness running through your collarbone. You held his nape again, and he squeezed your hip.

"We can wait. I don't want to rush you," he said, still managing to ask. You know it's the bare minimum, but you felt lucky whenever he did.

"I want you. So much." Your eyes met his when he lifted his head, eyes heavy with wisps of desire.

"I want you, too. Clearly," he said, accentuating his hips to yours, making it obvious. Your throat ran dry, suddenly aware of how far you were going, and that you weren't willing to retract.

"So much for waiting. Your body doesn't want it," you said, teasing him despite the way his own self elicited something heavier to flutter and consume your heart. He scoffed, still close enough for you to be molded to him.

"I know. I should really learn to hold back. Maybe you can ease it?" He said, raising an eyebrow as if his innuendo went unseen. Rolling your eyes, you pushed his shoulder slightly.

"Why do you need me to help your situation. Use your brain," you said with a chuckle when he had that familiar infuriated, yet amused, expression.

"You're killing me here," he murmured lowly again, lips and inch from yours, his threats doing nothing to lower your smile. "Gee, I wish I could just control my hormones, you know?"

"A real man knows how to," you teased again, being dramatic and exaggerative.

"Well, I guess I'm not real then. Just a figment of your amazing imagination. It's all in your head," he replied, contemplative as he firmly pressed his hips again. Your breath stuttered.

Even then, you didn't let the banter go unanswered. You locked your arms around his neck, staring up at him.

"My crazy imagination is making me see a crazy man. I think I'm having a weird dream thing right now." You grinned, eyes flickering to his lips. "I don't want to wake up."

At your sweet words, even if tied to a joke, softened his cloudy eyes, replacing it with the urge to kiss your forehead. His lips were soft, lingering on your skin and he let himself caress your cheek, as if you were the most luckiest thing that could enter his life.

"I love you." He breathed in the scent of your hair. Your eyes fluttered shut as you hugged him, grateful for it all. Grateful that you could be understood, forgiven after your selfish acts.

"Love you, too."

Just as he went in for another kiss, the curtain flung open behind him, making you and him jump. Standing there was Jay, his eyes scanning the scene, the hands around your waist, the fact that you were nestled in a shower stall.

Grimacing heavily, Jay rubbed his temples. "Seriously?"

"You didn't need to pull back the curtain, by the way," Jungwon said with a smirk, finally distancing himself from you slightly.

"And let you two continue God knows what in here?" Jay inquired, shooting daggers more at Jungwon than you. Warmth ignited your cheeks at being caught by Jay for the nth time.

"This is a public space."

"And yet you pulled back the curtain of someone's shower stall," Jungwon remarked sharply. Jay just waved it off, as if that wasn't the point. Jungwon grinned.

"You know, I'm right."

"No, you're not! I expected you to make up, not make out," Jay said with a huff, even though half of that was true.

"I would ask what movies you watch, but clearly you haven't watched a movie about fighting couples," Jungwon said with a wicked grin. Jay ran a hand through his hair, disgust sweeping over his eyes.

"Jungwon?"

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck out." Jay sighed, and then glimpsed at your figure curled behind Jungwon, gaze slightly mellowing around the edges. "Not you, though, Y/n. Respectfully, leave."

━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━

"STOP BEING SO NERVOUS."

Jungwon huffed, brushing a hand through his newly cut blonde hair, only for it to flop back into place again. He frowned as you held his wrist.

"Stop, Won. You don't need to be doing that. And, I think wearing formal is enough," you said before dragging your eyes down his body clad in a black shirt, trousers and his pine green jacket.

He was being overly ridiculous, letting the doubts of meeting your parents get ahold of him.

After you had told your parents of Jungwon, they seemed reluctant, but ultimately, they had never seen your eyes sparkling with so much sincerity when you had talked about him. They knew that the care ran deep, too much to just forget about.

That's how you found yourself walking with Jungwon to your home, happily holding his hand and even squeezing it reassuringly. A subtle grip of his hand returned, and he let out another releasing breath.

"You're sure they won't hate the blonde?"

"No?"

"And, I'm not even wearing a tie."

"My father doesn't even wear one. He gets lazy sometimes and wears a clip-on," you said again, giving him that sweet smile of yours. Jungwon's frown remained, bottom lip jutting out as much as his anxiety acting like a sore thumb.

In all honesty, you know your parents will have questions, but that's the point of a relationship—to fight for it, to avoid any possible hurdles and untangle them together.

You wished you had done so earlier.

Jungwon nearly gawked as he stared at your home, the silver gates twice his size enough for him to know you weren't just an ordinary girl.

Of course, you were different, but damn, your home called him broke in five different ways.

"Okay, you ready? We can always cancel if you have any problems," you said, turning to him. Jungwon found it too adorable as your eyes sparkled up at him.

But, there was no point holding it off into the future. Otherwise, he would never get there. Holding your hand a little tighter, he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Yeah. Let's go. They're probably waiting."

Jungwon wanted to curl up and shrivel on the spot when he met your parents.

The reason?

He meant to give a handshake and found his hand curled into a fist as if he was dabbing up Jay.

The internal embarrassment hit him like bullets, making his smile tight and his cheeks flush slightly. He knew you were laughing to yourself at the side but decided against glaring at you.

Anything to hear your happiness.

Even then, his parents scrutinised, as if they had a built-in system to recognise his sincerity, and then, they nodded and gave a small smile.

"Welcome, Jungwon." Your mother said, those eyes mellowing as she lead everyone into the dining room. Taking it as a good sign, you held his arm, then slid your fingers to his, interlacing them, as if you had finally reached something you had been looking for in the dark.

All at once, those intricate webs of doubt broke so easily. It almost felt like dust.

After having some tea, Jungwon finally breathed when he went up to your room, eyes taking in the cream tones, the colours that were taken from your personality and embedded in the bedsheets, jewellery and stickers around the room and vanity.

You spun in the room, presenting your room with a small smile. "Welcome! Where do you want to explore first?"

"This room could take two business days to explore," Jungwon mused with a smirk, staring at the big perimeter that was your room.

"Does that mean you can stay over then?" You remarked, mischief glittering in the sky that were your eyes. Jungwon grinned, sauntering over to hold your hips.

"I mean, I don't want to just crash over here," he said, leaning down with voice clouded with intensity, slowly fogging your head as well. He squeezed your hips, maneuvering you back, and back until you sat on the bed before him. You raised an eyebrow.

"You're already manhandling me. Haven't we gotten past that stage?" You joked, crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes, smirk remaining like a stain he couldn't remove.

"Well, if you say we've exceeded boundaries..." He bent down over you, forcing you to slightly lay down on your forearms. "Can we explore here first?"

The heat exploded in your cheeks, refusing the ability to act indifferent here. Ugh, he always managed to crumble your composure so effortlessly.

"You're a freak," you said, giggling as your hand swatted at his chest. Jungwon shrugged, eyes wandering down your body before capturing your gaze.

"It's not like you don't like it," Jungwon said, tilting his head, continuing to inch closer as your breath hitched.

"I don't, so."

"We were kissing in a male public shower stall. I think you are just as much a freak as I am," he said with a chuckle, low, and made your stomach flutter. Even then, your stubbornness struck your next words.

"That's different. I was trying to make it up to you. Technically, you got me into the shower stall." You laughed as he suddenly hovered over you, a knee coming between yours as your back met the bed.

The mischief never faded, though, along with your grin that he loved a bit too much. He stared as if calculating and then leaned down again.

"You have a bit of a smart mouth on you," he murmured with his deep voice, lips a few seconds apart, eyes mesmerising you.

"So, I've been told," you replied back just as smoothly, eyes never leaving his alone, glittering with something genuine and true. He smiled again, a little softer this time.

"Yeah, well, can it kiss me then? I've been waiting all day," he said, hips pressed against yours now, his arm maneuvering your leg to hitch about his waist.

The action alone bloomed heat in your cheeks, and wildflowers that sprouted and rooted into your body with love. You cupped his jaw and brought his lips down to yours.

Accepting the invitation, Jungwon moved his lips softly against yours, savouring his time and your lips. Like a secret and silent conversation he never wanted to leave alone.

You wrapped your arms around his nape and he slid his hand to your waist, pressing in the comfort, the trust he had for you, almost as if he was molding it into your bones.

He departed and braced himself above you, tilting his head to stare down at you.

"You're perfect, you know?" He breathed, as if he didn't look like a fairytale himself.

"And have you seen yourself?" You remarked with a laugh. He rolled his eyes with no hint of aggression and gazed at you, as if he was analysing something.

Or, more like his gaze melted into you, softening and ultimately leaving him mellow and serene.

"I love you, you know?" He said again. Those words—you could never get tired of them. Every time he did say it, the world lit up again, and it was only you two in this world, gravitating towards each other.

Your breath hitched, your grin dying down into something more honest and tender. At the end of the day, you would rather not be with anyone else but Jungwon.

His sincerity was unmatched to anyone else you ever met. You may be biased in that finding, but with him, it was certain that the bond bridged between was sculpted with trust, care, and love. All of it needs attention to stay indestructible. Heck, you may have stayed as a puppet if it wasn't for him.

You didn't want to lose him at all.

"I love you, too... my freaky man."

"Oh, shut up." He grinned, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, his breath caressing you. It was cruel, but you laughed with him.

Sometimes, you think about it even later—why you kept something like him a secret. It was fear and insecurity that had clashed in your brain, eradicating all the logic you usually had.

And, for what? Validation? The type of validation that you would never reach because your parents stretched it to the ends of the Earth?

Even you have limits. You had let yourself believe that there wasn't when it came to pleasing your parents. In result, you had buried and crushed your desires in order for theirs to take their place. Though, because of that, failure came easier to recognise rather than the current success you had in your hands.

From there, you learned that you wouldn't keep your desires a secret.

Besides, your parents didn't even kill you anyways when you said you were dating Jungwon. So, it's a win.

Even years later, the remnants of guilt sometimes floated up again. Keeping Jungwon a secret didn't bring you comfort in the slightest; it only brought burden and doubts to you both. Keeping him in the dark meant he hadn't deserved to be brought to the light.

But Jungwon deserved everything.

━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ[NOTES]: omg! Hi! If you made it this far? Wow. You all are amazing 😭. I'm sorry this was so long, but i hope you enjoyed <3

Thank you <3

⋆ཐིཋྀ[TAGLIST]: @haengi @yajw @hollxe1 @vixialuvs @dreamiestay @wontechno @jungwonchocochipcookie @meowwwon @page-espoir @dearestdreamies @yunjiiin @fancypeacepersona @readeryaknow @flawlessapollo6 @urmomssneakylink @wonys-won @vvenusoncasual @jellymiki @llearlert @xylatox @firstclassjaylee @jellyluv4eva @jayjw16enxp @tya0 @curryyed @kimbabikidding561

[ambi01]

𝑫𝑶𝑵'𝑻  𝑫𝑶  𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 At this point, you couldn’t even remember what started it. The argument had twisted and turned so many times it was impossible to trace it back.

All you knew was that now you were standing in front of the couch, arms crossed, foot tapping against the hardwood floor, glaring down at the man lounging like he had all the time in the world.

Sunghoon sat there, slouched back with one leg draped over the other, arms crossed like he was mirroring you just to mock you. His expression was blank, maybe even a little amused. He wasn’t really listening, like he was watching a rerun of a show he already knew the ending to.

You were exhausted. Not physically, but mentally. Emotionally. The way he stared at you with that passive indifference, it made your skin crawl.

“Can you at least pretend to give a shit, Sunghoon?” you snapped, voice cracking at the edges. There it was, that last nerve finally worn down to nothing.

He rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes.

It didn’t even feel like you were speaking to the man you loved anymore. The man who once texted you sweet nothings at 3 a.m., who’d pull you onto his lap just to say he missed you, who’d trace lazy circles on your back while listening to your every mundane thought.

This man? He didn’t even flinch.

“If I did that,” he said dryly, “then I wouldn’t be honest.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“You wanted me to be a genuine, honest man, didn’t you?” He shifted his weight, sitting up straighter now, but still so damn casual. “So if I pretended to care about whatever you’re yapping about, I’d be lying. And that’s not what you want.”

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Excuse me?” Your voice was quieter now. Sharper. Deadlier.

“You heard me.” He tilted his head, watching you. “I’m not gonna fake interest just to coddle you.”

Silence.

Your throat tightened, the burn of tears threatening behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not like this.

“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “To us?”

He shrugged. “Maybe nothing happened. Maybe you’re just seeing me for what I really am now.”

Your heart cracked a little at that. Not shattered, cracked. It was worse, somehow. Slower.

“So that’s it?” you asked, arms dropping to your sides, defeated. “This is the real you? Cold. Detached. Arrogant.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at you with those unreadable eyes, like he was trying to decide whether it was worth explaining anything at all.

“You wanted love. You didn’t ask what kind,” he said eventually, voice lower now, but no less cutting.

You flinched, and he saw it.

Finally, finally something flickered in his expression. Regret? No, not quite. More like hesitation. Like he realized he might’ve gone too far, but didn’t care enough to take it back.

You took a deep breath and stepped back. “Okay,” you said, voice trembling. “Now I know.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching you walk to the hallway. “Know what?”

You paused in the doorway, turning just enough to meet his gaze.

“That the man I fell in love with doesn’t exist anymore.”

And then you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving him sitting in silence.

For the first time that night, Sunghoon didn’t have a comeback. Just the echo of your footsteps, fading down the hall.

Just like that, you were gone. Not out of the apartment, just down the hall but the silence left behind might as well have been a slammed door.

You didn’t slam the door.

You wanted to. God, you wanted to tear it off its hinges, scream into the air, throw something just to make the weight in your chest feel a little lighter. But instead, you just closed it behind you. Soft. Controlled. Like you still had dignity left to protect.

The moment it clicked shut, your breath hitched.

Sunghoon sat there, elbows digging into his knees, staring at the place where you’d been just seconds ago. His fingers twitched against each other. His jaw clenched and unclenched.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Not right away. He told himself it was nothing, just another fight. Another one of your emotional spirals. That’s what he always told himself lately.

"But she looked at you like you were a stranger." That thought crawled in, uninvited.

He let out a slow exhale through his nose, eyes wandering to the far wall like he was waiting for it to say something. But it was quiet. Everything was too quiet now.

You didn’t slam the bedroom door. Didn’t scream. That’s what messed with him the most. You were quiet. Calm.

Like something in you had finally snapped, but not loud, not in the way you notice immediately. It was the kind of snap that’s permanent. The kind that echoes.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand over his face.

He hadn’t meant to be that cruel. At least, not entirely. He was just tired. Tired of the talks, the questions, the emotional games. Every time it was brought up, it felt like an accusation, even if it wasn’t.

Maybe he had changed. Or maybe he’d just gotten lazy. Comfortable in the silence, in knowing you were always there. Too sure you’d never actually walk.

But when you said, “The man I fell in love with doesn’t exist anymore,” it hit something. Hard.

Not because it wasn’t true.

But because it was.

And worse, he didn’t even know when it happened. When he started brushing you off like you were just background noise. When he stopped trying. When your voice that once was the only sound that calmed him started to grate on his nerves instead.

He remembered how you used to talk, animated and bright, hands flying everywhere, smile curling at the edges even when pissed. Now you stood still. Cold. Detached. Like him.

He swallowed hard.

Was he breaking you down to match his emptiness?

Sunghoon stood up, pacing once, twice, then stopped, staring down the hallway. He could see the faint glow under the bedroom door.

You were in there. Probably crying into a pillow. Probably telling yourself that you deserved better.

But fuck if he knew how to fix it. Fuck if he knew how to be the man you remembered.

Your hands moved on autopilot, tugging open the bottom drawer of the dresser. That beat-up duffel bag, the one he always used for weekend trips was still there. You pulled it out, tossed it on the bed, and started packing. No real plan. No destination. Just motion. You needed to move. To do something other than feel.

T-shirt. Hoodie. Toothbrush. Socks. Chargers.

You wiped at your face once, not even realizing you were crying until your knuckles came away damp.

The sound of the door creaking open made your body stiffen.

You didn’t look up.

He didn’t say anything right away either.

You could feel him in the doorway. Watching. Breathing. Thinking, maybe. Or judging. Who knew anymore?

“What are you doing?” Sunghoon’s voice was quieter now. Lower. No arrogance this time—just… uncertain.

You kept folding. Neatly. Like if you made everything small enough, organized enough, this wouldn’t hurt as much.

“I’m leaving,” you replied flatly, tossing a pair of jeans into the bag.

“You’re not serious.”

You finally turned to look at him.

His arms were no longer crossed. His posture wasn’t defensive. He looked… off-kilter. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I don’t think I can stay,” you said, voice cracking despite your best efforts.

“Just because of what I said?” he asked, but it didn’t sound mocking this time. It sounded like someone trying to make sense of something they never thought could happen.

You laughed bitterly. “No, Sunghoon. Not just because of what you said. Because of how you’ve been saying things. How you’ve stopped listening. How you look at me like I’m a problem, not a person.”

He flinched. Slightly. But it was there.

“I don’t hate you,” you added, zipping up the bag. “I just… don’t recognize you anymore. And I don’t think you recognize me either.”

He stepped into the room now, one foot over the threshold like he was testing if he still had the right to be there.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “I haven’t been who I used to be. And I don’t know when it started… but I felt it too.”

That almost stopped you.

You stared at him, tired. So tired. “Then why didn’t you say something? Why did you let me think I was crazy for feeling the distance?”

“I thought it was just a phase,” he said, voice heavy with something like regret. “I thought it’d fix itself. Or maybe I was scared to admit it was real.”

You shook your head, eyes burning again. “You let me fight for us alone.”

Silence.

And then he took a few more steps forward. Slow. Careful. Like he was approaching something fragile.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Your chest tightened. You could hear it, the sincerity. The softness you hadn’t heard in weeks. But it felt too late.

“I know,” you whispered. “But wanting me to stay isn’t the same as making me feel like I should.”

His eyes dropped to the bag. Then to your face. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start.

And you… you didn’t know if you had the strength to listen anymore.

[ambi01]

𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑻  𝑫𝑶  𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺  2 part one, read here~ Sunghoon tries, really tries, but you're already gone in every way that counts. taglist: @daisyintherainsposts @enpshgirlyy0812 @maewphoria

His eyes dropped to the bag again, and for a second, you saw the panic. The realization that this wasn't a bluff. You weren’t trying to make a point. You weren’t being dramatic.

You were leaving.

“Wait,” he breathed, stepping closer until he was just a few feet from you, hands outstretched like he was afraid you’d vanish if he moved too fast. “Please. Just… wait a second. Talk to me.”

You held his gaze, jaw clenched. “I’ve been talking, Sunghoon. For weeks. You just weren’t listening.”

“I’m listening now,” he said, voice almost breaking. “I swear, I’m listening now. Just give me a chance.”

You shook your head slowly. “I gave you a thousand.”

He stepped closer again. “Y/n, baby”

“Don’t call me that.”

He stopped in his tracks. You saw the way it hit him, like a cold splash of water across the face. His hands dropped to his sides, useless. Like he suddenly didn’t know how to reach you anymore.

“I can fix this,” he said, softer this time. “I know I’ve been a dick. I know I’ve pushed you away. But I didn’t think it would come to this. I didn’t think you’d actually-”

“Because you thought I’d always stay,” you cut in, voice trembling. “Didn’t you?”

He blinked, once. Then again.

You grabbed the duffel and hoisted it over your shoulder. Heavy. But not as heavy as the silence between you.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, looking down at your feet, “but I can’t keep hurting myself for someone who doesn’t see me anymore.”

Sunghoon moved in front of the door before you could reach it, body blocking your path like that would be enough. His voice cracked when he said, “Y/n, don’t walk away. Not like this.”

“I already did,” you said, stepping around him.

He didn’t stop you. He didn’t grab your wrist. He didn’t beg, not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew.

If he touched you now, you’d break apart.

You walked to the front door, your hand on the knob. You glanced over your shoulder one last time.

He was standing in the hallway, eyes wide, arms limp at his sides. Small. Quiet.

“Goodbye, Sunghoon.”

The door clicked shut behind you.

And just like that, he was alone. Again.

This time, for real.

Sunghoon stood there, frozen, staring at the door like it might open again if he waited long enough. Like maybe you’d come back, say you didn’t mean it, say you were just testing him. He even counted the seconds in his head, just to give you time.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Still nothing.

His legs finally gave out, and he sank to the floor right there in the hallway, back sliding down the wall until he was sitting with his knees drawn up, head in his hands.

He didn’t cry. Not right away. He never cried. But there was this strange, unfamiliar pressure in his chest, building fast like grief with no funeral. Like watching something die without ever getting to say goodbye properly.

The apartment felt too quiet.

Too clean.

Your shoes were gone from the entryway. That sweater you always left on the couch wasn’t draped over the back anymore. Your scent was already fading from the air.

And it hit him all at once:

She’s really gone.

He let out a shaky breath and ran both hands over his face, his hair, like he was trying to physically shake off the reality of it.

Then came the flood.

Every moment. Every conversation. Every soft “I love you” he brushed off too casually. Every night you curled into his side and he stayed quiet instead of saying he missed you too. Every time you asked, “Are we okay?” and he shrugged.

He thought you’d never leave. He was so sure of it. So used to you being the one to reach out first. To fix it. To care enough for the both of you.

But you weren’t coming back this time. He could feel it.

He got up suddenly, like something was choking him. Stormed into the bedroom and yanked open the closet.

Your side now empty.

Drawers? Half full. Your favorite hoodie? Gone.

He opened the nightstand and found one of your earrings, the cheap little star-shaped one you always wore on lazy days. He stared at it in his palm for a long time, lips parted like he wanted to say something out loud but what? Please come back? I didn’t mean it? I love you?

Instead, he slammed the drawer shut and threw the earring across the room.

It hit the wall and bounced onto the floor with a hollow little sound that made his chest ache even more.

He paced the room like an animal. No destination. No thought process. Just raw, frantic motion. He grabbed his phone. Opened your messages. You were still at the top.

He typed something “Come back. I’m sorry. Please.” and stared at the blinking cursor.

Then he deleted it.

Typed again: “I didn’t mean it. I was scared. I miss you.”

Deleted that too.

What was the point? Words hadn’t worked when you were here. Why would they fix anything now?

He sank onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The silence was deafening now, not peaceful. It pressed against his ears, his lungs, his chest.

He didn’t cry. Not yet.

But he felt hollow. Like something important had been scooped out of him, and now he was just sitting in the shell of the life he used to have, back when he had you.

And for the first time in a long, long time… Sunghoon was scared.

Because this wasn’t a fight.

This was the ending.

[ambi01]

𝐬.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

synopsis it started with jake and his dumb little squad pretending he cheated on you “for fun.” jokes on them, because you took it personally. like any reasonable person would.

pairing boyfriend! jake x reader

genre crack, comedy, chaotic romance, ansgt if you peek.

content warning unhinged behavior, fake cheating, fake breakups, real chaos, jake suffering, swearing, crying. emotional twists, some harsh burns.

the living room smelled like microwave popcorn and teenage sweat. someone had kicked off their shoes hours ago, and the air was thick with the remnants of whatever cologne jay had drowned himself in. you were curled up on the couch, your legs stretched out just enough for jake to be lying between them on the floor, his head resting comfortably against your thigh. his hair tickled your skin every time he laughed. which was a lot, because sunghoon was retelling some ridiculous story about their gym teacher almost shitting himself during drills.

“bro, i swear to god—” sunghoon cackled, clutching his stomach. “he was clenching so hard he looked like he was mid-labor.”

“nah, that’s fucking foul.” riki wheezed.

you let out a quiet laugh, but your eyes were already drifting toward the screen, the movie long forgotten. you liked hanging out with jake’s friends, sure, but sometimes you felt like a damn background character when they got into their guy convos. every time you tried to add something, someone would just shout over you or pivot the topic.

jake must’ve noticed the way you went silent, because he turned his head just slightly, nuzzling against your leg.

“you okay?” he mumbled.

“yeah. just bored.”

“you hungry, baby?” he asked, reaching for his phone lazily and handing it back to you without looking. “order whatever you want, i got you.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you unlocked his phone. the screen lit up to his home screen. a random candid of you both blurry at a gas station and your chest did a little stupid flutter. but just as you opened up the food app, a message dropped down from the top of the screen.

liv : last night was really good. miss ur hands on me already.

you stared at the screen for a moment and you felt your throat close up. your eyes didn’t move at first. they just stayed locked on the message until it disappeared up, vanishing like it hadn’t just knocked the breath out of you.

you blinked down at jake. he looked so… calm. like he hadn’t just dropped a grenade in your chest without even knowing it. he was laughing at something jay said about his dad’s weird collection of swords or whatever, and suddenly they were all on their feet.

“yo” jay said, already walking toward the basement. “come see this, my dad’s got a fuckin’ roman helmet in the laundry room.”

riki cackled. “ain’t no way, bro.”

“you coming?” jake asked, glancing back at you.

you shook your head slowly. “nah, i’ll wait here.”

“alright.” he replied as he disappeared down the hallway.

you sat there in silence. for a second. for a minute. lips pressed together so hard it hurt. you felt your eyes sting but you blinked it away. you didn’t want to cry, not until you knew what the hell was going on. but your hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. your mouth was dry. and your heart? pounding so loud you swore it echoed in the empty room.

“no fucking way..” you whispered under your breath, trying to laugh it off. “there’s no way.”

you stood up on wobbly legs, hugging the phone to your chest for a second. then your voice barely pushed out through your throat.

“jake?” you called, hoping it sounded normal.

his voice called back, distracted. “yeah?”

“can you—” you swallowed, then tried again, louder. “can you come up for a sec?”

you heard footsteps, and in seconds he appeared at the top of the basement stairs, confused. “what’s up?”

you didn’t meet his eyes. you just turned, walked back to the living room, sat on the couch and waited. he followed you in, eyebrows slightly furrowed, sensing something was off.

you looked up at him, voice quieter now. “can you sit for a moment?”

he blinked. “uh… yeah.” he lowered himself onto the cushion beside you, still watching your face carefully. “what’s going on?”

you inhaled slowly, the lump in your throat pressing harder than ever. then you said it.

“jake… i just—i want you to be honest with me.”

he sat up straighter, posture tense. “okay…?”

your voice cracked. “are you cheating on me?”

jake blinked slowly, like your question knocked the breath out of him. “what?”

you held his phone in your lap, not unlocking it again, just gripping it between your fingers. “i wasn’t snooping. you gave me your phone to order food and some texts popped up.”

he didn’t answer right away. he just sat there. quiet.

too quiet.

you stared at him and your heart dropped further into your stomach.

“jake?” your voice cracked. “why aren’t you saying anything?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, face unreadable. then he finally opened his mouth. “i’m sorry.”

you blinked. “what?”

“i—i didn’t think—i didn’t think you’d see it like that—”

“jake what the fuck?” you snapped, voice shaking with anger, a bitter laugh escaping your throat like you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“wait let me explain—“ jake reached for you, but you pulled away. “it was one time, i swear. i was gonna tell you. i was. i just didn’t know how.”

“you could’ve just said it, jake.” you snapped, standing up so fast the couch creaked. “you didn’t have to lie. you didn’t have to embarrass me like that. do you even get how fucked that is?”

jake sat there frozen, hands slightly up like he was afraid you were gonna launch the phone at his face. you didn’t. but you did toss it hard into his lap like it was diseased.

“here. keep it. you’ll probably need it for your hand-holding appointment with liv.”

you turned on your heel. “i’m going home.”

your eyes were already glassy, vision swimming even though you were desperately trying to blink it all back. your throat felt like it was closing up, but no way in hell were you gonna let him see you cry.

you swipe your cheeks furiously even though the tears kept slipping out. stupid mascara. stupid feelings. stupid jake. you crouched down to grab your bag, hands shaking, teeth clenched so hard it hurt. you could barely see through your lashes, everything blurry and humiliating.

“baby…” his voice came from behind you, quieter this time.

“don’t touch me.” you whispered, backing away, still refusing to look at him but then you felt his hand brush your arm. you yanked away. “jake, i swear to god—don’t.”

you stopped moving, head hanging low, the room suddenly too quiet.

your whole body shook slightly as a choked sob slipped out before you could stop it.

jake’s eyes widened “baby, are you crying?”

you turned away quickly, covering your face with both hands. “how could you do that to me?” your voice cracked, muffled but heartbroken.

“GOT HER ASS!”

riki’s voice cut through the room like a goddamn gunshot. you whip your head toward the hallway, heart still pounding, mascara definitely ruined, and there’s riki, grinning like he just won the lottery, phone still out, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“told you she’d fall for it.” he repeats, laughing so hard he almost drops his phone.

from behind him, sunghoon and jay peeked around the corner, both looking half-guilty, half-trying not to laugh.

“it’s just a prank.” jake says stepping forward with panic still written all over his face.

you glare at him, mouth still trembling, “a prank? this is your idea of funny?”

jake scratches the back of his neck “uh… yeah, it was a prank. riki set it up. i swear.”

you blink, then glance over at riki and sunghoon, who are trying way too hard not to laugh.

“seriously?” you ask, voice still shaky. “you guys just thought it’d be hilarious to mess with me like that?”

riki shrugs, grinning like it’s the best idea ever. “honestly? yeah.”

sunghoon chuckled, nudging riki. “dude, you’re evil.”

“i didn’t think she’d actually cry.” riki admitted.

“see? it’s all a joke. no liv, no cheating, just a stupid prank gone too far.” jake says, pulling you into a half-hug and leaving a kiss on your right cheek.

you roll your eyes but can’t help the tiny, reluctant laugh breaking through your anger. “you’re all idiots.”

jay wheezes, clutching the wall. “her face when the message popped up. i saw the exact moment her soul left her body.”

“shut up.” you mutter, but there’s no real venom behind it. you’re still wiping under your eyes with your sleeve, smudging whatever mascara is left like war paint.

riki’s still filming, barely holding the camera straight. “yo yo wait—zoom in on jake’s guilty-ass face. man looked like he just got caught cheating on his taxes.”

“i was panicking!” jake says, exasperated. “you think i wanna get broken up with over riki’s fake-ass message?”

you groan, burying your face in your hands. “i’m emotionally traumatized, okay? i need like… a decade of therapy.”

“fair.” jake says, holding both hands up like he’s surrendering to the law. “but you don’t. which means we’re good, right?”

you shoot him a look. “you seriously want me to forgive you immediately after that emotional trauma?”

“i’ll buy you food for the next month.” he pleads.

jay perks up. “can i be emotionally traumatized too?”

“shut up.” you and jake say at the same time.

two days.

it had been two full days since jake and his little army of dumbass friends traumatized you in your own relationship with their “cheating” prank. two days since you nearly cried your soul out while he sat there whispering apologies like he’d actually done something.

and what did they do? laugh. giggle. replay the video in 4K while riki screamed “got her ass” from every corner of the house.

so yeah. he had it coming.

revenge wasn’t just a dish best served cold. it was a full-course meal with dessert, and today, you were the damn chef.

he had left his car keys on the counter like a fool. so while he was in the shower, humming some dumb song and probably brushing his hair all pretty, you took the keys, slipped out of his house, and drove off with his one true love: his precious baby blue car.

you weren’t gonna actually hurt it, obviously. you weren’t evil.

but you were creative.

so now you’re sitting in jake’s car parked at a random gas station, sipping on a blue raspberry slurpee with a smirk on your lips and his car keys dangling from your fingers.

you lean back against the seat, pull out your phone, and hit his contact. he picked up on the second ring, sounding all sunshine and clueless.

“hey, baby. where’d you go?”

“hey…” you said, dragging the word a little. “um. so. don’t freak out.”

there was a pause. “…why would i freak out?”

“i borrowed your car.” you said, making your voice a little smaller. “i just needed to run to the gas station. i needed snacks. but um.. i didn’t think it was a big deal and—”

“and?”

you exhaled, adding a little panic to your tone. “i think i did something wrong…”

you heard him sit up through the phone. “what do you mean?”

“so i went to fill it up right? and the gas here was suuuper cheap so i was like oh my god jackpot. i filled it all the way—”

“…cheap?”

“yeah. like waaaay cheaper than usual. it smelled kinda funny too. kinda like—like paint? or maybe cleaning supplies? i don’t know, i thought it was one of those eco brands or whatever.”

“baby.” jake’s voice flattened. “what gas station did you go to?”

“i dunno? some shell or chevron i think?”

“what pump did you use?”

you bit your lip, holding back a laugh. “the green one.”

there was dead silence.

“green one?” his voice rose. “you used the green pump?”

“yeah?? it was like… the eco one, right?”

“THAT’S DIESEL, Y/N. DIESEL.

you covered your mouth, muffling your laugh. you could hear him scrambling around in the background, probably putting on his shoes with one hand.

“oh…” you said slowly. “wait. is that bad?”

“IS THAT BAD?!” jake shouted. “IT’S A GAS CAR. YOU PUT FUCKING DIESEL IN A GAS CAR?!”

“i didn’t knowww.” you whined. “you never taught me this stuff!”

“oh my god. don’t turn it on. whatever you do, do NOT turn it on. shit—shit, where are you? i’m coming. fuck, my car—”

you were full-on wheezing at this point, silently shaking in the driver’s seat. you bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing, eyes glancing at your reflection in the rearview mirror.

“no, no, relax. i’m almost home.” you said quickly. “i’m like literally turning onto your street.”

“STOP THE CAR.” his voice cracked.

“what?” you said, pretending to slow down. “i thought you said come home?”

“not if you put FUCKING DIESEL IN IT, OH MY GOD, Y/N.”

he sounded like he was about to leap out his window and sprint barefoot down the block.

“pull over. pull over right now. shut it off. do NOT—i swear—do not go up the driveway.”

“wait, why?” you said, letting your voice go soft and pitiful. “it’s driving fine…”

“babe, please. please, stop the car.” he pleaded, half whispering now.

you had to mute yourself. you had to. because the laugh that tore out of your chest wasn’t just a giggle. it was the kind of laugh that made your stomach hurt and tears prick your eyes.

you imagined him, shirt halfway on, hair still wet, running around his house in a panic like a cartoon character mid-crisis. you could hear drawers opening, shoes being yanked, maybe even a bang against the doorframe.

“pull over, right now. i’m ’m not kidding, y/n. you’re gonna destroy the engine—”

“okay, okay.” you said quickly, flicking on your blinker just to sell it. “i’m pulling over. jeez…”

you steered dramatically into an empty parking lot behind a laundromat, even though there was absolutely no danger. the engine was perfectly fine, for now.

jake let out the loudest sigh. “turn it off. right now. don’t touch anything else. don’t even breathe near it.”

you made a big show of clicking the engine off and sitting in silence, slurping your slurpee obnoxiously through the phone.

“you there?” you asked sweetly.

“i’m two seconds from losing my mind.” he hissed. “i’m coming. stay put.

jake muttered something unintelligible, probably a prayer or a curse and hung up before you could say more.

you sat back, phone still warm in your hand, and waited.

fifteen minutes later, jake came flying around the corner of the building. his shirt was crooked, one sock halfway off, and his hair was still damp. he looked deranged.

he sprinted toward the car, eyes wide and wild, until he saw you sitting calmly in the driver’s seat, sipping your slurpee with the smuggest little smile on your face.

you tilted your head. “took you long enough.”

“…you’re joking.” he breathed.

his mouth dropped open, hands gripping his knees like he’d just finished a marathon. he stared at you, chest heaving, as realization slowly washed over his face.

his mouth hung open for a second too long, hands still frozen mid-run like his brain hadn’t caught up to what his eyes were seeing.

“you’re joking.” he said again, stepping closer. “tell me you’re fucking joking.”

you popped the straw out of your mouth with an exaggerated slurp and shrugged. “you said you like girls with a sense of humor.”

he stared at you, completely unamused. “Y/N. i thought you murdered my car.”

“you fake-cheated on me in front of your little goblin crew” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

jake stood upright and dragging both hands down his face. “that was a prank!”

“so was this.” you smiled innocently. “no one died. no engines exploded. we’re even.”

he stared at you, slack-jawed, chest still heaving from his olympic sprint. “you’re evil.”

“creative.” you corrected, smirking. “you should’ve seen your face. you were about to call the fire department.”

“because you said you filled my car with diesel!” he shouted. “do you know how expensive it would be to fix that?! i was already planning your funeral!”

“aww.” you cooed. “that means you care.”

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “i swear to god, y/n. you almost gave me a heart attack. that’s not funny.”

you leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “got your ass.”

he groaned, dropping to crouch beside the car like he needed to physically process what just happened.

you leaned out the window. “you okay down there, baby?”

he glared up at you. “i hate you.”

you blew him a kiss. “you shouldn’t have messed with me.”

revenge? delivered.