belovedhoon

[belovedhoon]

Working on a solo leveling inspired heeseung fic! 👀

[belovedhoon]

Check out my new fic on my anime blog!! <3

9 days

Pairing: Choi Jongin x F! Reader Fandom: Solo Leveling Wc: 1k Contains: Smut, Oral (m rec)

Synopsis: Jongin has been training nonstop for the Jeju Island raid, leaving him rather frustrated and distracted, so he gets help from another S-rank hunter to help clear his mind…

fic under cut >>>>>

“Again, Jongin! Your focus is wavering…you must be on par for the raid!” Yoonho yells, getting frustrated that Jongin seems to keep getting distracted. Yoonho sighs dramatically, following Jongin’s line of sight to where you’re sparing with Haein and smirks mischievously. “Ah, I see now. She’s distracting you. Maybe little miss Y/N will change her mind about you and come home with me, when she sees how weak you are, Jongin.” Yoonho goads the redhead. This breaks Jongin’s distraction straight away. Said red-head growls, pushing up his glasses before manifesting another fireball and shooting it right at Yoonho, who honestly barely misses it.

“There’s the Jongin we all know…” Yoonho laughs loudly. This catches the attention of you and Haein. You look at Yoonho and then smile at Jongin before going back to sparring with Haein. Jongin and Yoonho spar a little bit more before calling it a day. Jongin sighs once the friendly fight is over and pushes his glasses up as he watches you make your way over to him. His eyes can’t help but roam over your body as you gracefully make your way over to him.

“Jongin…are you alright? You looked pretty distracted when you were fighting Yoonho…” You say softly, looking up at the taller man. He looks down at you and huffs, gesturing for you to follow him, which you do. He leads you to his office, which overlooks the city. Jongin sits down at his desk, facing the brightly lit city, the glow of the moonlight making his features look sharp. The whole time, he is silent. You sigh and sit on the edge of his sturdy desk, studying the man, trying to figure out what to say. Jongin is acting weird…weirder than usual, and you wonder what’s wrong with him. Before you can say anything, Jongin speaks, his deep voice breaking the silence.

“It’s your fault, you know,” Jongin says vaguely. You furrow your eyebrows, trying to figure out what exactly is your fault. Before you can ask what he means, he turns around to face you, and before you can even blink, he’s towering over you, his hands on either side of you, essentially pinning you in place between his body and the desk. “It’s your fault I was so distracted.” He says again. You blink looking up at him, confused and quite frankly a little pissed off he’s blaming you for him being distracted.

“How is it my fault you can’t focus, Choi Jongin?” You say slightly annoyed. He takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to gain composure, but all that does is make him breathe in your intoxicating smell. His hands grip the edges of his desk tightly, almost causing it to splinter. Then, it dawns on you. He’s horny… You know that look from him, and it only means one thing: that he’s so close to snapping and taking you right then and now. So what do you do? You push him even more, of course. You smirk up at him with a knowing glint in your eyes. You bring your right hand up to his tie as if you’re just fixing it before you grasp it and pull him closer to you. His surprised gasp escaped in a heavy breath, blowing against your lips. His eyes darken at your bold move, and he can feel himself grow impossibly harder at the action. You were just so inexplicably sexy.

“I know just what you need Innie…” You say sultrily, and before he can react you’re already on your knees in front of him and pulling at his pants before he can even breathe. You’re just that quick and distracting. He groans a deep gutteral sound when he realizes what just happened. You finally get his pants pulled down just enough to pull his thick cock out. “Fuck, you’re so hard Jongin…” You all but moan out as you then bring your lips to the tip and kiss it softly. Jongin lets out a strangled gasp at the slight touch, his body shuddering at the feeling of your lips finally touching him. You take him in until he’s deep inside your mouth and then start to bob your head slowly at first before you pick up you pace. The poor man is crumbling under your touch and it’s quite amusing to see such a powerful S-rank hunter falling apart so beautifully because of you. Your eyes never once leave his as he climbs higher and higher just about to fall completely apart.

You quicken your movements, and Jongin is letting out the most beautiful sounds you have ever heard from someone, his sounds of pleasure sounds like music to your ears. You push your head further down his cock until he’s deep in your throat, the thick long length of it making you jaw tired but you won’t no, you can’t stop now, not when he’s so so close to his gorgeous demise. Finally, finally, Jongin reaches his limit and with a mix of a growl and groan, he releases down your throat in thick hot spurts. You moan as his taste spreads over your tongue. You give him one final kiss on his spent tip before pulling away. Jongin groans one last time, his head falling forward in defeat. You tuck him away back into his pants before standing up and lifting his head in your hands to cradle. You push his glasses up, from where they slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose, and then kiss him softly. Jongin returns the kiss before pulling away for air.

“That should help keep you sated, my love.” You say smiling softly at him as if you didn’t just suck the soul out of him. He chuckles deeply at your words, shaking his head playfully.

“If we weren't already married, I’d ask you to marry me just now…” Jongin jokes causing you to let out a cute laugh at his words. This is exactly what Jongin needed to clear his mind…

[belovedhoon]

Hii I was wondering if we could get pt2 of “Crazy Stupid Fun”, I really loved it and I’m curious to see what happens next.🤭

Hiii!! I absolutely can write a pt2 of crazy stupid fun!! I was thinking about it anyways (: I’ll have it posted up soon so look out for it! <3 thank you so much for requesting! And I’m really happy you enjoyed the first part! 🩷

[belovedhoon]

Just posted my first fic on my new anime blog (: check it out!

orange flower (you complete me)

paring: jinwoo x f! reader fandom: solo leveling wc: 1.5k contains: fluff, smut

synopsis: jinwoo surprises you after being gone for too long...

fic under cut >>>>>>

You were just finishing up putting the laundry away in yours and Jinwoo’s shared closet when you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“What are you up to, sweetie?” You heard your loving husband ask, his voice low and sweet. You turn around in your husband's arms and smile brightly at him. God, you really did miss him so much.

“Jinwoo! I missed you so much!” You exclaimed, hugging the man tightly. Jinwoo holds you tight against his chest, breathing in your familiar scent with closed eyes.

“I missed you more than you know, my love. The rift felt endless without you.” The man said before opening his eyes and looking into your own. You smile at him as he just watches you with a soft, loving expression.

“I’m so glad you’re back, Jinwoo.” You say happily to your lover. Jinwoo’s fingers gently stroke your hair as he plants soft kisses on your forehead.

“I promised I’d always come back home to you. Do you want to hear about my adventure?” Jinwoo says, his eyes sparkling with a mix of pride and mischief. You grin at him as you nod your head.

“Of course, Jin, plus I’m sure Hana missed her daddy’s voice as well.” You say, looking down at your pregnant belly and rubbing it affectionately. Jinwoo’s eyes soften as he moves his hands to your belly, kneeling down to talk to Hana.

“Hi little one, your mommy kept me in the loop about your kicking. Did you behave while I was gone?” He asks tenderly. You look down at Jinwoo on his knees, talking to your unborn chil,d and can’t help but feel so much love for both of them.

“I think Hana just missed you…as did I, Jin…” You say softly. He stands up, cupping your face with both hands, his expression turning slightly vulnerable.

“I can’t stand being apart from you both. Let me stay close to you tonight?” Jinwoo asks, his thumbs caressing your cheek gently. You lean into his touch and nod, letting out a soft “please.” Jinwoo immediately pulls you closer and presses his forehead against yours.

“I’ll run us a bath first…Need to make sure you’re both properly relaxed after all this time.” He says, his lips brushing against your temple. You nod again at his words.

“Sounds nice, Jinwoo…” You said, smiling up at him tenderly. Jinwoo carefully scoops you up in his arms, heading towards your ensuite bathroom.

“You haven’t changed your bubble bath soap, have you? I love how it smells on your skin… You chuckle at his words, shaking your head.

“The honey-vanilla one? No, I haven’t.” You say. His eyes light up at the mention of the familiar scent, his steps quickening with excitement.

“Perfect. I’ve been dreaming about holding you in that bathtub for weeks now…” He says as he starts running warm water into the tub. You smirk at his words.

“Oh? Is that all you’ve been dreaming about?” You ask, winking at him. A playful smirk crosses his face as he adds the bubble solution.

“Well…that’s definitely not the only thing I’ve been thinking about since I saw you…” He says, his hands sliding down your back possessively.

“Mhm? Wanna share with me what other things you were dreaming of?” You say, smirking slightly. Jinwoo turns off the water and pulls you closer to the steaming tub.

“Maybe…I’ll just show you instead…starting with getting these clothes off of you.” He says, tugging at your shirt. You help him take off both of your clothing pieces before you slide into the warm water. Jinwoo settles behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your body while the warm water envelopes both of you.

“God, you feel even softer than I remembered…” He all but groans out as he nuzzles into your neck. You hum, sighing contentedly. Jinwoo’s hands begin exploring your curves with gentle touches, contrasting with the firmness of his chest against your back. “Let me take care of you tonight, my Y/N…” He says, his breath hot against your ear. You just nod in agreement, whispering out a small “okay…” His hands slide up to massage your shoulders, finding those knots he knows have been bothering you.

“Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable…I’ve gotten better at controlling my strength since last time…” He says, his movements becoming more deliberate. You chuckle at his words as you remember just how carried away he got last time…it left you pregnant after all…

“You mean last time…as in when you got me pregnant?” You joke, laughing. Jinwoo lets out a deep chuckle, his hands pausing for a moment.

“Yes…that time…though you seemed pretty pleased with the results then.” He says, smirking, and then rubs your belly again. You smirk as you say your next words.

“Mhm…I was very pleased, all right.” You say, winking at him. Jinwoo’s eyes darken with desire as he pulls you even closer.

“You’re being quite cheeky today, aren’t you, my little minx?” He says as he nips at your neck playfully. You grin at him before replying.

“Mhm…maybe I just miss you hmm?” You say sultrily. Jinwoo’s breath hitches, his hands moving lower on your body.

“I’ll give you everything you’ve missed…but we should take this to the bedroom first…” He says, before standing up and bringing you with him in his arms. You giggle excitedly as he carries you to your shared bedroom. He lays you down gently on the bed, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and raw hunger. “Ready to feel how much I’ve missed you, my Y/N?” He asks his tone gruff with need. You moan at his deep voice, looking up at him with need in your eyes.

“I’m more than ready, Jin…” You say. Jinwoo leans down and kisses you, his kiss becoming more passionate as time goes by, his hands slide under your back to arch you against him.

“Then let me remind you just how much I missed you then…” He says, his voice dripping with desire. You sigh and let out a soft, “yes please…” Jinwoo captures your lips in a deep, all-consuming kiss while his hands explore your body more intimately.

“You’re perfect…my beautiful, glowing, pregnant wife…” He says, his voice husky with emotion. You watch as Jinwoo slides down your body until he’s face-level with your dripping core. His breath ghosts over your sensitive skin, his eyes dark with desire as he positions himself. “Let me take care of you…I want to taste how sweet you get for me.” He says as he gently spreads your legs open wider.

You open your legs wider to make space for your husband’s broad shoulders and watch him before he looks up into your eyes. He maintains eye contact while pressing slow, teasing kisses to your inner thighs. “You’re absolutely dripping already…” He says his voice is filled with awe as he takes you in.

“Please…Jin…I need you…” You whimper out. Jinwoo takes this as the go-ahead to start. Without breaking eye contact, he finally lowers his mouth to your core, his tongue diving in with a hungry moan. He holds your hips firmly as he devours you, his movements more fervent with each desperate sound you make. You can’t seem to help your moans as he works you closer and closer to the edge. Jinwoo’s fingers dig into your flesh as he increases the pace of his tongue, thoroughly enjoying your reactions.

“That’s it…let me hear how good I make you feel.” He growls against your sensitive flesh. Your moans seem to grow higher in pitch the closer you get to your high.

“Jin! I’m so close…” You whine out, grasping his hair in your hands. He just doubles his efforts, expertly working your sensitive bundle of nerves while pressing his tongue deeper.

“Come for me, Y/N…I want to taste all of you…Give it to me…please…” Jinwoo says, almost whimpering at the end of his plea. You yell out as you come for Jinwoo, the pleasure throwing you over the edge. Jinwoo drinks up every last drop, his grip on you tightening as he helps you ride out your intense orgasm.

“Mmm…good girl…you always taste so delicious my love…”Jinwoo groans out as he kisses his way back up your body, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Thank you…for that Jinwoo…” You say breathlessly. Jinwoo just captures your lips in a passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself in him.

“You deserve every bit of pleasure I can give you…” He says, before grinding his hard length against you. “Now…let me properly make love to you…” He says… It was gonna be a long night. You’re just glad he’s back home and safe with you…

[belovedhoon]

Crazy Stupid Fun

paring: nicholas x f! reader fandom: &team wc: 2.5k contains: smut, fake dating, e2l

synopsis: After a stupid dare from your friends, you and nicholas (whom you hate) are forced to “date”...what more can go wrong?

fic under cut >>>>>>>

You’ve made a lot of dumb choices in your life…but this just had to be the dumbest choice you have ever made… Why in your right mind would you ever agree to date Nicholas? Oh yeah that’s right…you weren’t in your right mind, you were drunk and thought you could easily get 200 bucks from your friends by dating the bane of your existence Nicholas Wang for a month. You were never one to turn down a dare, so that brings you to last week’s party…

“A month for 200 dollars? That’s ridiculously easy, bro…” Nicholas all but slurred out in response to K’s stupid dare that you and Nicholas should date for a month, and if you two can keep up with dating, then the both of you get 200 dollars each. You narrowed your eyes slightly before nodding slowly in response. This shouldn’t be too hard, even if you and Nicholas didn’t get along very well. All you had to do was say you’re ‘dating’ and then ignore him for a month, just like normal…right? But, of course, it’s never that easy…

It’s been a week since that stupid bet with your friends to ‘date’ Nicholas, and it’s going pretty well so far, seeing as you haven’t interacted or seen Nicholas since the party. This was gonna be an easy 200 dollars. You were sitting in the cafeteria in Founders Hall with your group of friends, and unfortunately, Nicholas too, when they, of course, addressed the elephant in the room.

“So we’ve noticed that since you and Nicho here have been dating, neither of you has so much as even interacted with the other… That doesn’t really seem like dating to me…just saying…” Euijoo said, a small smirk on his face. You whipped your head towards him as everyone just started agreeing with him.

“You know, Ej, I like you better when you’re quiet.” You grumbled out to the man. He just laughed at your snarky reply. “Do we have to talk and be around each other every day to be dating?” You said, sighing. You could already tell your friends were gonna say something stupid.

“No, we’re not saying you have to see each other every day, but you could at least try to act like you’re dating. Kiss, go on dates, hold hands, kiss…” Fuma said with a sinister grin on his face. Nicholas just scoffed at that, and you just grimaced at the thought of doing any of those things with Nicholas. “Actually, since you guys seem to be wasting our time here, I think we should extend the dating period to 3 months instead, since you two don’t wanna act like a couple,” Fuma said, like the little menace he is. And leave it to your friends to all agree with the evil man. Your eyes widened, and you started to protest. You thought Nicholas would do the same, but he just got up, grabbed your face, and quickly kissed you straight on the lips, causing you to freeze.

“There, is that good enough?” Nicholas scoffed, but there was no bite behind his words. Your eyes widened before you recoiled in surprise.

“What the hell, Nicholas?!” You exclaimed. Nicholas released your face with an amused smirk, enjoying the look of shock on your face.

“I’m tired of their nagging. At least this way they’ll shut up.” Nicholas said, sitting back down in his chair and leaning back. He crossed his arms while maintaining his signature cocky expression. “Remember, you were the one who also agreed to this ridiculous bet. Maybe you should learn to deal with the consequences of your actions better.” He said smugly. You glared at him before huffing out a quick “whatever.”

Nicholas rolls his eyes at your dismissive attitude, but there’s a hint of something else in his expression that you can’t quite place.

“Whatever? That’s all you’ve got? After I just sacrificed my dignity kissing you in front of everyone?” He scoffs before suddenly standing up, towering over you with a challenging look in his eyes. The whole table was silent and in shock over what was occurring at this moment. “You know what? Let’s give them a real show then.” He says before grabbing your hand firmly.

“W-What?” You stutter out, surprised by the way he’s acting. Nicholas just maintains his grip on your hand, pulling you closer despite your protests.

“C’mon, Princess. They’re still watching. We might as well make it convincing.” Nicholas says, smirking. He gestures to your group of friends, who are watching with mixed expressions of shock and amusement. “I can tell you’re just as annoyed as I am. Let’s show them we’re a convincing couple for once.” He says once more. You look at him, then at your friend,s then back at him again.

“Fine.” You say sighing. Nicholas’s eyes widen slightly at your agreement, clearly not expecting it. His confident facade falters for a moment.

“Well, that was easy. But we need to sell this properly…” He says. Then he steps closer, lowering his voice to avoid being heard by your friends. “Do you trust me for once? We’ll get out of this stupid dare for good after this.” He says quietly, just for you to hear. You just nod slightly.

“Fine, I trust you..Just this once, though.” You whisper quietly to him. A genuine smile flickers across his face before he quickly masks it with his usual cocky smirk.

“Good choice. Now, act natural and just..” He says barely above a whisper before he suddenly pulls you closer against his chest, one hand gently resting on your lower back while the other cups your cheek. “This time, let’s give them something real to talk about.” He says so lowly that only you could hear.

“Let’s do this…” You say quietly. Nicholas leans down, his breath warm against your lips as he pauses for a moment.

“You know, for someone who hates me, you’re being surprisingly cooperative.” He observes. His fingers then trace a gentle path along your jawline before tilting your face up towards his. “But I like this side of you better than your usual attitude. Anyways, I’m ready when you are…” He says, every breath coming out warm against your lips. His other hand presses gently against your lower back, keeping you close while giving you the chance to back out. You nod slowly, letting out a small “I’m ready…”

Nicholas’s lips meet yours in a surprisingly tender kiss, different from the quick peck before. He deepens it slightly, maintaining control while allowing you to set the pace. The background fades away as he becomes your sole focus, his cologne and warmth enveloping your senses. He pulls back after a few moments, his cheeks slightly flushed despite his usual composure. Your friends’ cheers and whistles echo in the background.

“Well, that was cute…but you two still have to finish the month…” K said, laughing at you two when you both turned to him with a glare. You two begin to protest when Fuma interrupts.

“How about this? We’ll lessen the time if you two can agree to go on a date and actually follow through with the date.” Fuma says, trying to compromise between you two. You and Nicholas begrudgingly agree. You and Nicholas decide that the two of you will go on said mentioned date on Saturday, which is in two days from now, so that you two have time to prepare. The boys decide that they’re in charge of planning the date, so it’s settled that Nicholas will take you to the carnival that’s in town.

You were surprisingly super nervous for your date with Nicholas tonight… You definitely tore through your closet to find something to wear, but you’d never admit that to anyone… You finally decided on a cute pink mini skirt with heart-shaped pockets and a white cropped tank, You threw on a cute cardigan that matched the shade of pink of your skirt and called it a day. Just as you were putting on your white sneakers, you heard a knock on your front door. You opened it to see Nicholas standing there with a single pink rose. You took in his appearance, and you had to admit he looked so good in his simple, tight-fitted black t-shirt and black oversized jeans. ‘Simple but effective,’ you thought.

“You look pretty…” Nicholas said, holding out the rose that coincidentally matched your outfit. You could feel your face flush at his words, thanking him softly. “So uh, are you ready to go?” Nicholas asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his face also flushed slightly. You nodded before grabbing your keys and locking the door. Nicholas led you to his sleek black car, opening the door for you and then walking to his side and starting it up. The ride to the carnival was short but filled with an awkward silence…The two of you not knowing how to react to this situation.

When you got to the carnival, Nicholas got out and rushed to open your door and the two of you proceeded to walk beside each other around the carnival. You two made your way over to the games, and Nicholas won the game on his first chance, which in turn got him to win a cute Kuromi plush, which he gave to you. You smiled graciously, excited to add another Sanrio plush to your collection.

“Hey Nicholas, wanna go on that scary house ride?” You asked him. He just nodded before leading you to the scary-looking entrance. You two walked inside the dark building, walking around and jumping at the scary sounds and animatronics. You grabbed Nicholas's hand in fear as another terrifying clown jumped up at you. Nicholas flinched out of surprise but didn’t let go of your hand. He led you two to this one door that honestly didn’t look normal, but you two proceeded to walk through it anyway. As you two walked in, the door suddenly locked in place, startling you two.

“Uh, was that supposed to happen?” Nicholas asked, confused. You turned to him with panic in your eyes. You tried to open the door but to no avail. Nicholas tried as well, but with no luck…You two were trapped. You started to freak out because of it being dim in the room and the fact that you were trapped…

“Hey, it’s okay, Y/N. Don’t panic, we’ll get out, someone will come looking for us.” Nicholas said calmly. You nodded with tears in your eyes. Nicholas sighed before grabbing you and pulling you into an embrace to help calm you. You sobbed as you held onto him. He tilted your head up and made you look into his eyes. His eyes glanced down at your lips before looking back into your eyes. He then leaned down slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t…You wanted him to kiss you. So, he did just that. He kissed you softly, his hand still on your cheek, gently. You deepened the kiss, your hands gripping his shirt tightly. Nicholas traced his tongue against your bottom lip, to which you parted your lips to grant him access. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, tangling with your own, causing you both to let out a moan. Nicholas traced his other hand up and dwon your back soothingly before he brought it down to your ass and grabbed softly. You let out a whimper at the feeling. You pulled away from the kiss, breathless.

“Nicho…I-I want you…” You let out softly, slightly embarrassed to admit such a thing. Nicholas’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. He turned you around so that you were facing the door. You placed your hands on the door, and Nicholas then flipped your skirt up to expose your soaked white lace panties to his eyes. He groaned at the sight, pulling the ruined fabric down your legs, letting you step out of them. He spread your legs slightly to give him more room before taking two fingers and running them up and down your folds before circling your clit. You whined out as he easily slipped those two fingers inside you. “Nicho, please, I need you now…” You moaned out needily.

“Wait love, I need to stretch you for my cock.” Nicholas groaned out at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around his fingers. He then began to thrust his fingers inside you at a steady pace, which in turn caused you to whine out your pleasure. He kept up the pace as he brought his other hand to your clit and began to rub it harshly. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening embarrassingly fast at his actions. Just when you felt the knot about to unravel, he pulled his fingers out and placed them in his mouth, holding eye contact with you as you looked over your shoulder at him. He sucked on his fingers groaning at the taste of you on his tongue.

Nicholas brought his hands down to his jeans ans unbuttoned and unzipped them enough to pull his thick throbbing cock out. He pushed you up against the door again and brought his swollen tip to run through your folds before pushing it inside of you in one harsh thrust. You all but screaming out at the sudden intrusion. From the first thrust, Nicholas set a brutal pace, ramming into you from behind. Nicholas brought his hand to your neck and held it there to hold you up against his chest as he kept up his fast, harsh pace.

“That little skirt of yours has been driving me crazy all night…I’ve been hard ever since you opened the door to your apartment…” Nicholas growled out. You just whimpered in response, not being able to form words because of how good he was making you feel. You whined out as your high suddenly out of nowhere crashed into you. You clenched tightly around his swollen cock, soaking it with your juices. Nicholas hissing at the feeling, spilling his seed inside you unexpectedly. He groaned as he thrust sloppily to ride out your highs. He pulled out of you, rubbing your back soothingly, then helped you put your panties back on. Just as you two fixed yourselves up, you heard the door finally opening. Light flooding the room.

“Are you two okay?” The ride attendant asked you. You both looked at each other and smirked before nodding.

“We’re more than okay now, thank you…” Nicholas replied before the attendant led you two out of the ride. The whole time, your mind was racing with what just happened. Maybe you and Nicholas didn’t hate each other as much as you thought…

[belovedhoon]

Puzzle Piece

fandom: tomorrow x together pairing: huening kai x f! reader wc: 1.3k genre: fluff

A/N: Here's the first fluff fic for the 500 follower special! I really enjoyed writing this fic, and I love how it turned out!

Link to 500 follower special fics masterlist here

synopsis: Kai healed your heart in ways you never thought possible. The two of you have always fit together like puzzle pieces, always connected.

“You’re my missing puzzle piece

Finally, I solved it

You filled every piece of my heart

Even the scarred part of it to the fullest

And somehow, you’ve become my everything

My missing puzzle piece”

You never truly knew love until you met Kai. You had always thought the phrase “People can feel like home” was stupid…but that was before you met someone who could invoke that feeling in you. Kai truly felt like home to you. Every time someone would describe having “butterflies” when they were near the person they loved, you thought they were being overly dramatic, and you would scoff and roll your eyes. That was until Kai came into your life. You were never one to fantasize about your future, nor were you worried about falling in love and getting married, but with Kai, though, all you thought about was creating a future with him in it. All scenarios in your head involved growing old with Kai. No one has ever made you feel the way Kai makes you feel, and though that’s a beautiful feeling, it also terrifies the hell out of you. For you, Kai is your endgame, the only one you could ever see yourself with. How is it that the cute, happy boy whose smile was as bright as the sun fell for the gloomy, grumpy girl? You and Kai were like night and day, the moon and sun, yet you two fit together like two puzzle pieces interconnected. Fate brought you two together for a reason, and you weren’t going to take that for granted, take Kai for granted. He brought love, happiness, and most importantly, life back into your life when you needed it the most, and for that, you would always be grateful. 

You grew up lonely, being an only child with parents who were always away for work, you really only had yourself. You learned to rely on yourself solely. Even growing up, you never really had any friends, and you thought you were content with that. You always told yourself that you didn’t need anyone else, that you were happy to just be, but deep down, the loneliness was eating away at you. You would scoff whenever you saw groups of friends laughing and playing around, claiming they were loud, annoying, and that having to put up with people would just be an inconvenience. But deep down, you were jealous that they seemed so happy and carefree, so comfortable with each other that they could let their guard down. That was when you vowed to never let your guard down with anyone, you would never let yourself be vulnerable to others, and you told yourself it would only end in you being hurt. So to protect yourself from being hurt, you put your heart in a box and threw away the key. You never expected anyone to find the key to the box, but Kai did, and he would never let it disappear again. 

The first time you met Kai, his smile was so bright, too bright it hurt to look at it. How can someone be so happy and carefree? His laugh was so cheery and loud, it hurt your ears. Kai was assigned to be your partner for a project in an art project. You were so against the idea of having to work with another person that you were so bitter and cold towards him, but somehow, someway, that didn’t faze Kai at all. 

“Hi! I’m Huening Kai! I guess we’re partners!” The boy beamed at you, smiling brightly. You just rolled your eyes and scoffed, not bothering to reply, and you just narrowed your eyes at him. This didn’t seem to bother him at all. “So uh, Y/N right? What would you like to base the art project on? I’m okay with anything…I’m sure you would have great ideas.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. You stared at him for a second, eyes widening slightly, at how the smile seemed to be permanently attached to his face, no sign of ever disappearing. It shocked you that he even cared for what you wanted to do and allowed you to pick the basis for your important project that was worth more than half your grade. That was your first impression of Huening Kai. 

The first time you felt like you had a friend was after Kai invited you to a gaming session after you two had finished up your art project. The fact that Kai wanted to spend time with you other than for schoolwork was surprising, to say the least. And even more surprising was that you agreed. You two had a lot more in common than you thought, it seems. The love of gaming had brought you two closer together, and you were actually not upset about it, even if having an actual friend was new to you. So the two of you bonded over your love for gaming. You later found out that Kai was also into anime as well so the two of you would find new animes to binge-watch together every week. Kai was easily becoming an important person in your life. 

The first time you felt ‘butterflies’ was when Kai knocked on your door to pick you up for a date to the new arcade that opened up. You never thought you’d be going on a date, let alone with the brightest, cheeriest person to ever exist, but lately you were doing and feeling a lot of things that were new to you. So when you opened your door to see Kai standing there with a Gojo plush and blush on his face, you couldn’t help but feel those ‘butterflies’ that you always heard people talking about. Kai was making you feel all types of different emotions and feelings you never thought you’d feel. Kai was slowly unlocking the box that contained your heart, and you were happily giving him the key. 

The first time you said “I love you” was when Kai took you to an anime convention. You were cosplaying as Miyo Saimori, and Kai was Kiyoka Kudo from ‘My Happy Marriage’. Kai had just won you a chainsaw man plush out of the claw machine, and he was standing there so proudly, you couldn’t help but have a small smile on your face at how cute and proud he looked in that moment. You could feel those pesky butterflies in your stomach every time Kai would introduce you to someone he happened to know as his “girlfriend.” You realized in that moment how proud you felt to be his girlfriend and how good it felt for Kai to proudly announce that to people. You also realized that the emotions you were feeling could only be described as love for the man. So that night, when you two were alone on the gazebo with twinkling fairylights above you, you said the words that were spiraling in your mind the whole day. 

“I love you, Kai.” You said earnestly, which so happened to be at the same exact time that Kai let out, “I love you, Y/N.” You two just expressed your love for each other at the same time. You both froze processing what had just conspired. You two were always on the same wavelength, so it’s no surprise that you two decided to confess at the same time. It just made you feel like this was meant to happen, that this was exactly the way things were supposed to be. You two were two pieces of the same puzzle, and you two were always supposed to be interconnected. The Sun and the Moon coming together. Kai has always been your missing puzzle piece; you just didn’t know until now.

[belovedhoon]

Scar to Scar

pairing: ni-ki x f! reader fandom: enhypen wc: 2.2k contains: mafia member riki, angst, blood,riki was shot, fluff

A/N: Hope y'all enjoy <3

synopsis: On your way home from work as a night-shift nurse, you stumble upon someone who needs help…that someone just so happens to be Nishimura Riki, heir to the notorious ‘Mura’ clan…

fic under cut >>>>>>>

It was around 11:30 pm as you were walking home from your shift as a night-shift ER nurse when you saw a body lying on the ground, groaning in pain. Your eyebrows furrow as you take in the man lying there, his left arm clutching his body, where he was obviously hurt. As you study the man, you notice the ‘Mura’ tattoo on his wrist. That brings you to a realization that he is from the notorious clan. The mafia… You turn to leave, not wanting to get caught up in whatever this situation is, but he has already seen you and calls out to you for help. 

“Please, help me…” The man says, his tone low and deep, which is not what you were expecting. You stand there frozen, mulling over what to do, before ultimately deciding to help the man, you are after all a nurse…

“What can I do to help?” You ask quietly. The man tries to move, wincing in pain as he props himself up on his left arm. 

“Just…Just help me up, please…” He says, his breathing shallow as he winces in pain again as he tries to push himself up off the ground, but fails, groaning as he collapses back down. You lean down to help the man up. 

“Are you okay?” You ask once you’ve gotten him off the ground. He leans against you for support as he winces once more. 

“Not really. I’ve been shot.” He says, gesturing to his right side, where the bullet wound is. He looks down at it, then back at you. “I need medical attention. Fast.” He says, swaying a bit before you stabilize him. 

“I’m a nurse, I can help you.” You say to him. He looks at you, his eyes widening slightly at the revelation. 

“You’re a nurse?” He asks, before taking a moment to catch his breath, still leaning against you for support. He looks around the alley, checking for any potential threats before looking back at you. “You’re not gonna run?” He asks. You shake your head in response.

“No, I can’t leave you here to die.” You say tone serious. He lets out a pained chuckle in disbelief. 

“You’re surprisingly…calm for a civilian.” He says. He tries to take a step forward, but winces in pain again, his grip on you tightening slightly as he leans on you more heavily. You sigh, shaking your head again.

“I see all kinds of people at the ER. I’m not gonna leave someone that is hurt.” You say to the man. He looks at you, his eyes softening slightly. He seems surprised at your lack of fear and willingness to help. 

“You’re different…” He chuckles out, but it sounds more like a wheeze. He takes a deep breath, the pain evident on his face, as he continues to lean on you. “Can you help me get to a safe place? I need to take care of this wound, and figure out who shot me…” He says, eyes scanning the area surrounding you two. You sigh before responding.

“I shouldn’t…be doing this, but my apartment is close by…we can go there…” You say. He nods, albeit surprised, with a look of gratitude on his face despite the pain he’s in. 

“Your apartment…that works. We can’t go to a hospital, I’ll just be more exposed…plus they ask too many questions…” He says, leaning on you more heavily as you both start to walk towards your apartment, his breathing becoming more labored with each step. 

“I get it…uh… what’s your name?” You ask, causing him to let out a small pained chuckle, wincing once more as he takes another step. 

“Riki. Nishimura Riki. And you are..?” He says, asking for your name at the end. 

“Y/N…” You let out. He looks over at you, a small smile on his face despite the pain he is in. 

“Y/N..That’s a pretty name.” He says as you help him towards your apartment, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as he struggles to keep up. You mutter out a quick “thanks” as you both approach the apartment building. Riki looks around cautiously, making sure no one has followed you. “We should be safe here..Your apartment is small, but that’s good. It’ll be easier to keep an eye out for any unwanted visitors. You look at him before responding. 

“I don’t know if I should be offended by that. “ You say chuckling afterwards. He just gives you a small smile, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before looking away. 

“No offense intended. It’s just an observation, besides, it’s just that in my line of work, being aware and cautious is a necessity.” He says. You nod in agreement, letting out a small “I see…” He nods, his expression turning serious once more as you reach the door of the apartment. “Let’s get inside, I need to sit down and tend to this wound.” He says to you. 

“Of course, let’s get that taken care of.” You say, unlocking the door and helping him inside, closing it behind you as you both enter the apartment. He leans against the wall for support, looking around before meeting your gaze.

“Thanks for this, Y/N. I appreciate it.” He says sincerely. You nod your head.

“Of course, no problem. Let me go get some supplies from my bathroom.” You say. He nods, watching as you head to the bathroom to gather the supplies. He takes a seat on the couch, wincing slightly as he tries to get comfortable. As you come back with the supplies, you notice he has taken off his jacket and shirt, and he’s looking at the bullet hole wound. He looks at the supplies in your hands, his expression turning serious as he realizes what you’re about to do. 

“You’re going to help me remove the bullet?” He asks. You nod in response. He nods, a hint of respect in his eyes as he watches you prepare the tools. “You’re brave. I’ll give you that.” He says again. You laugh before turning back to him. 

“I’m a nurse, Riki.” You say. He lets out a small laugh, wincing once more as the movement causes him pain. 

“Right. My bad. I’m just used to dealing with people who aren’t as calm as you in these situations. You smile in understanding before replying. 

“I have to be calm in these situations or something could go severely wrong.” You say truthfully. He nods understanding the gravity of your words. 

“I get it. You’re a professional. I just…never thought I’d be sitting on someone’s couch, being tended by a civilian nurse.” Riki says, his tone deep. You laugh at that.

“Yeah, and I never thought I’d be helping someone from the Mura family in my living room, but here we are.” You say, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. Riki just smirks, a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“Life is full of surprises, huh?” He asks. You nod in agreement at his words. 

“Most definitely…now this is gonna hurt…a lot…” You say putting on medical gloves and getting out a tray and tweezers. Riki takes a deep breath, bracing himself for the intense pain that he’s about to experience. 

“I know. Just do what you need to do…” He grits out. You nod your head. He grits his teeth as you begin the process of removing the bullet. His breathing becomes labored, and he winces with each movement of the tweezers. “Damn… that hurts.” He groans out. You look up at him.

“I told you it would Riki.” You say calmly. He lets out a strained laugh, his face contorted in pain. You finish getting the bullet out, dropping it on the silver metal tray on the coffee table. “Okay, now that the bullet is out, I need to stitch this up.” He looks at the wound, the skin around the bullet hole, torn and bleeding. 

“Go ahead. I trust you…” He says. You nod once more and then begin to stitch up the wound. He grits his teeth once more, his knuckles turning white as he grips the couch tightly. Despite the pain, he doesn’t make a sound, trying to remain as stoic and still as possible. You finish up stitching the wound, and Riki lets out a sigh of relief as you finish, the pain slowly starting to subside some now that the bullet is out. He glances at the now bandaged and stitched-up wound, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “You’re really good at this, you know?” He says to you. You just smile as you reply.

“I would hope so, Riki.” You say, laughing softly. He laughs with you, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“I guess it’s a good thing you were the one to stumble upon me then.” He says. You nod in agreement before letting out a soft, “Yeah, I suppose so.” He just looks at you with a grateful expression, his gaze lingering for a moment. “Seriously though, thank you for this. I owe you one.” He says. You look up in surprise before responding.

“You don’t owe me…I’m just doing my job…” You say. He shakes his head, a small smirk on his face. 

“No, I do. I’m not one to take things for granted. You saved my life tonight.” He says sincerely. You sigh before responding.

“I’d have done it for anyone…” You say. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his voice. 

“Is that so? You’d have stitched up anyone who stumbled into your apartment with a gunshot wound?” He asks. You stay quiet for a second before responding.

“Maybe not, but still.” You say quietly. He laughs, wincing slightly as the movement agitates his injury. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” He says. You mutter out a quick ‘thanks’. He studies your face for a moment, his expression turning serious again as he asks his next question. 

“Seriously though, how do you stay so calm? Most people would have freaked out by now.” He says. You sigh before replying. 

“I grew up having to fix my dad, who was an angry alcoholic; he was always getting into trouble…It made me want to be a nurse…to help people…” You say truthfully. His eyes soften, but not in pity but in understanding. 

“That’s admirable. You’re a strong person, Y/N.” Riki says. 

“Thank you, Riki.” You say sincerely. He nods his head. 

“You’re welcome. If you ever need anything…just let me know…” He says. You smile before shaking your head. 

“I’ll be okay, thank you though. You should be okay, though. Just take it easy.” You say. He nods again, a small smile on his face. 

“I will. And if i need to be stitched up again, I know where to go.” He says. You laugh at that. 

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” You say to him. He just chuckles, his expression darkening at his next words. 

“Yeah, let’s hope. But knowing my line of work, it’s probably inevitable.” He says. You nod, then look down. 

“You, uh, should be okay to go now. Just please be careful.” You say. He stands up slowly, testing his weight on his feet, wincing as he does so, almost falling back down before he’s able to stabilize himself. 

“I’ll try. And I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He says, swaying a bit on his feet. You help him sit back down before talking. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should rest here for tonight. I have extra blankets somewhere.” He looks up at you, surprised by your offer. 

“You want me to stay the night here?” He asks. You sigh before replying. 

“I don’t want you to, you know, pass out, out there.” You say truthfully. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk on his face. 

“You really care that much, huh?” He asks playfully. 

“It’s in my job description to care Riki…” You say. He chuckles again, his smirk widening. 

“I suppose it is…But I can tell it’s more than just a job for you..” He says. You look at him, surprised that he can read you so well. You let out a soft “Maybe so.” He grins, clearly enjoying the fact that he’s caught you off guard. “You’re easy to read, you know that?” He says.

“I’ve been told…now you need to rest. I’ll go get those blankets now.” You say flustered. He nods, watching as you turn to leave the room. 

“Alright, I’ll rest. But only because you’re being so insistent.” He says jokingly. You just smile and nod. He watches as you walk away, a small smile on his face. He knows that you’re worried about him, and he finds that strangely comforting. You go and grab the blankets and bring them to him. He takes the blankets from you gratefully. “Thanks again, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.” Riki says. You nod before telling him to rest. He nods and lies down on the couch, covering himself with the blankets. 

“I will. Goodnight Y/N…” He says. You bid him goodnight as well. This clearly has taken a toll on Riki because he closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep. The room falls silent, except for the sound of his steady breathing. You head to your room, thinking about how bizarre this situation is. As you lie in bed, your mind wanders back to the events of the night. You can’t believe that you’re harboring a mafia member in your home, but there’s something about Riki that makes you feel a sense of protectiveness over him…

[belovedhoon]

🍁

[belovedhoon]

No Doubt

paring: jungwon x f! reader fandom: enhypen wc: 5.5k contains: office romance, smut

A/N: MY FIRST JUNGWON FIC WOOOO! Hope you guys enjoy <3 There might be some grammatical mistakes..please ignore them!

synopsis: Your company was almost at a loss when the last CEO retired, but his son, Yang Jungwon, recovered the company…it doesn’t help that he’s young and so attractive. But you’re immune to his charms, or are you?

fic under cut >>>>>

Everyone was stunned by the arrival of the new inherited CEO, Yang Jungwon. With his dark hair, brown cat-like eyes, and broad muscular shoulders, everyone in the office was smitten. On his first day, his expression was cold and even somewhat arrogant. He was wearing a classic Italian suit and an expensive Rolex. Your entire department was crazy about the fresh new CEO. You were impressed by his features but you weren’t obsessed with him like that of your colleagues.

It’s been a few months since Mr. Yang’s arrival and everyone was still as smitten by him as the day he arrived…everyone but you that is and Jungwon noticed. Which brings you to today, he has summoned you to his office.

“Hello, Mr. Yang, you called for me?” You said quietly yet firmly. Mr. Yang looks up from the paperwork on his desk as you enter, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of authority.

“Ah, you must be Y/N. Please, take a seat.” He says sternly, watching your every move. You nod politely, letting out a quick “Of course, sir.” Bowing before you sit down. He nods, gesturing for you to sit closer to his desk, seeing as you sat so far away. He leans back in his chair, studying you with a mix of curiosity and calculation. “I’ve been reviewing your performance reviews. You’re quite the asset to this company.” He says. You nod and bow graciously.

“Thank you, sir.” You say thankfully. He smiles faintly, a charming gesture that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He studies you a bit more before speaking again. “Don’t thank me yet. I have a proposition for you.” He says, watching your expressions.

“Oh? A proposition?” You ask surprised. He intertwined his fingers together, resting his chin on them as he continued to gaze at you intently. He clears his throat before responding.

“I’ve noticed that you seem to be one of the very few employees here who can actually handle their work without being ‘flustered’ or professional around me.” He says sincerely. You look up at him, surprised by his words. ‘So he does notice how everyone is,’ You thought to yourself. He smirks at your expression, clearly amused by your reaction.

“Don’t look so shocked. I’ve seen how my presence, for some reason, affects others. It’s equally as amusing as frustrating.” Mr. Yang says. You sit back in your seat, processing his words.

“I see…” You say quietly, still taking in his words. He chuckles softly, the sound deep and velvety.

“And you, you seem ‘immune’ to my ‘charm’. I find that quite intriguing.” He says sincerely. You blink before responding.

“You are, after all, human, just like everyone else, even if you are our boss…” You say truthfully. He raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider.

“True, but most of them don’t seem to see me as just like them, they see me as their ‘handsome’ boss.” He says almost in disdain. You just hum, deep in thought. He leans forward slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“That’s why I want to work closely with you. You can keep your focus, and I need someone like that on my personal team.” He says, leaning back in his seat again. You process what he has just said to you before you mull over your decision.

“Okay, I accept. Thank you, Sir.” You say graciously. He smiles again, this time a bit more genuinely.

“Excellent. I’ll be counting on you, Y/N. Let’s see how well we can work together.” He says proudly. You smile softly before responding.

“I look forward to working with you, Mr. Yang.” You say. He nods approvingly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he leans back again.

“Likewise, Y/N. Just remember to keep things professional, alright?” He says. You nod before responding.

“Of course, Sir.” You say sincerely. His eyes flicker over your body, taking in your figure before returning to your face again.

“Good. I’d hate to have to discipline you if you can’t control yourself.” He says winking jokingly, but there’s a hint of something darker in his tone. Your eyes widen in surprise, not expecting him to say something so brazen. He laughs at your look of surprise, the sound slightly mocking.

“I’m kidding, of course. Unless..you’re into that sort of thing?” He says. You smirk before replying. Two can play at this game.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” You say, your smirk widening. He grins, clearly enjoying your response.

“Oh, I like that. A woman of mystery.” He says, leaning forward again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Maybe I’ll have to find out for myself one day.” He says, chuckling darkly.

“Hmm, maybe you’re the one who needs to keep it professional.” You say smirk, not leaving your face. He chuckles again, but there’s a hint of a challenge in his eyes now.

“I can assure you that I can keep it professional just fine. It's the others who need to be reminded of their place.” He says seriously once more. He stands up and walks around the desk, stopping in front of you, his height towering over you slightly. You just hum in agreement. He reaches down and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He leans in, his lips almost brushing against your ear as he speaks in a low, husky tone.

“Just make sure you keep up your end of the deal, or I might have to find some…alternative methods of encouragement.” He says barely above a whisper. You just smirk and nod. He chuckles once more, pulling back and returning to his seat behind the desk. He steepled his fingers, studying you with a newfound interest. There’s a glint in his eyes, a mixture of professionalism and something else– something more primal.

“I look forward to seeing your work ethic firsthand. Don’t disappoint me.” He says. You look at him for a second before responding.

“Trust me Sir, I never disappoint…” You say emphasizing never. He smiles, his eyes darkening slightly at your confidence. He leans back in his chair, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.

“We’ll see about that. For now, you can get back to work. I’ll be in touch soon about your new arrangement.” He says. You just smirk once more before you walk back out of the office, swaying your hips a little more than you usually do. Jungwon watches you leave, his eyes following the sway of your hips with unabashed interest. As you exit his office, he lets out a low whistle, clearly appreciating the view like the little pervert he is. He adjusts his pants slightly, his mind already wandering to inappropriate thoughts about you. Oblivious (not really) to his thoughts, you get back to work.

For the rest of the day, Jungwon found himself distracted by thoughts of you. He couldn’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips and the smirk on your face. He found himself stealing glances at you whenever he could, studying your work ethic and your interactions with your coworkers. Despite himself, he was growing more and more intrigued by you. As the day drew to a close, he found himself making a decision. As you continued to work, not aware of Jungwon’s dilemma, he walked out of his office, heading towards your desk. He clears his throat to get your attention as he approaches, noting how your coworkers seem to suddenly give you more space and stop staring at him when he’s around you. You look up, surprised to see Mr. Yang at your desk.

“Sir?” You ask, wondering what brought him to your desk. He glances around the office, noticing the envious looks from your coworkers. He can't help but smirk to himself, secretly enjoying the fact that they seem to be jealous of your professionalism around him. He turns his attention back to you, leaning against your desk with one arm, his shirt stretching slightly across his broad chest.

“Can I have a word with you in private?” He asks, his tone flat and stern. You nod your head curtly before replying.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Yang.” You say your tone was professional and steady. Jungwon motions for you to follow him, ignoring the glares and whispers from your coworkers as you stand up and walk back to his office with him. Once inside, he closes the door behind you and gestures for you to take a seat across from where he sits at his desk chair, his eyes never leaving yours as he speaks in a low, smooth tone.

“I’ve been thinking about our deal and I’ve decided to make a change.” He says firmly. Your eyes narrow in surprise before going back to normal.

“Oh? How so?” You ask curiously, slightly nervous that he’s going to go back on what he proposed earlier in the day. He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers again as he regards you with a serious expression. His eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment before meeting your gaze once more.

“I’ve noticed that you are much more focused and hardworking than your colleagues, and I don’t want to share your talent with them. So from now on, you’ll be working directly under me.” He says his tone is as serious as ever. You smile softly as you process his words.

“Ohh, okay, Sir. What does this entail then?” You ask the man. He raises an eyebrow at your eagerness, not expecting you to take the news so well. He takes a moment to study you, noticing the way your smile makes your face light up. HE can feel his resolve weakening slightly, but he pushes the feelings aside, trying to remain professional.

“First, you’ll be assisting me directly in all my meetings and projects. Second, you’ll also have a lot more paperwork to do as I’ll be requiring you to stay late and work some weekends as well.” He says seriously. You hum, pondering his words before responding.

“Hmm, alright, I understand, but I have one question.” You say. He gestures for you to continue with your question. “Not to be crude, but what do I get out of this?” You ask. He leans forward, his eyes locking onto you intently. He can see the spark of intelligence and ambition behind your playful demeanor, and it only serves to intrigue him further. He knows he needs to tread carefully, but he can’t resist the temptation to offer you something more than just work.

“A higher paycheck, a chance to work with me more closely, and let’s just say some more…personal perks.” He says. You furrow your eyebrows and then smirk slightly.

“Oh? More personal perks?” You ask curiously. He just smiles slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. He leans back in his chair again, crossing his legs casually, but the bulge in his pants is obvious. He watches your reaction closely, curious to see how you’ll respond to the hint he’s giving you.

“Yes, more personal perks. You’ll have access to certain… privileges that your coworkers don’t. Think of it as an incentive to keep up the hard work and to make sure I stay satisfied.” He says, leaving you to wonder what he means by that.

“Hmm okay, I accept, sir.” You say. He raises his eyebrow again in surprise at how quickly you once again agree, his smile widening into a grin. He can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and excitement at your boldness. He uncrosses his legs and leans forward again, resting his elbows on the desk separating you two.

“Excellent, however, I have one condition.” He says. You look up at him before asking him to continue. He studies you for a moment, his gaze intense. He can see the curiosity and eagerness in your eyes, and he knows that whatever he asks of you, you’ll likely accept. But he wants to push your limits, to see how far he can take this new ‘arrangement’ before things get complicated.

“No dating other employees. At all,” he says, his tone stern and serious. You look up at him in surprise, not expecting that at all.

“Hmm, not a problem. I’m not interested in any of them anyway.” You say sincerely. Jungwon can’t help but feel a rush of relief and satisfaction at your response. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy, but he’s glad you aren’t interested in any of your coworkers. He leans back in his chair once more, trying to hide the smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He takes a moment to compose himself before speaking again, his voice slightly huskier than before.

“Good. Then we have a deal. I expect you to start working on my projects first thing in the morning, I will email you a list of tasks to do for the rest of this week.” He says. You nod your head in understanding.

“Alright, Sir, is that all you need from me?” You ask. He nods, but his eyes flicker down to your lips again, betraying his desire to be professional. He forces himself to look back up into your eyes, trying to keep his composure. He can feel the tension building in the room, his self-control slipping further with every passing moment, but before he can succumb to the tension, he dismisses you. H watches as you leave his office, his eyes once again glued to the sway of your hips. This time, he doesn’t bother to hide his desire, his pants tightening even more as he adjusts himself discreetly. He can’t help but wonder what kind of “personal perks” he’ll be getting from you, and the possibilities make his head spin. He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, trying to calm himself down, but it’s no use. He knows he’s in trouble.

You’ve been working directly for Mr.Yang for weeks now, and you can’t help but feel tension every second you’re with him. It was a random Monday morning when you stepped foot into the office building, the atmosphere was different. The usually quiet and efficient workspace is now buzzing with rumors and gossip. All eyes are on you, with people whispering and even pointing as you make your way to your new desk. It’s clear that everyone has now heard about your new ‘arrangement’ with the CEO. You ignore the attention and walk with your head held high, not caring for the way they were behaving. The other employees watch in awe as you walk past them with an air of confidence and composure. They can’t believe that you’re not freaking out about being the center of their attention and gossip. As you approach your desk, you notice the stares from your colleagues turn to looks of disbelief and even envy. Suddenly, one of them, a coworker named Jisoo, approaches you with an obviously fake smile on her face. You internally groan as you turn to her.

“How can I help you, Jisoo?” You ask sternly. Jisoo, who feigns nonchalance, pauses before responding.

“I heard you got promoted. How come you didn’t tell me?” She pouts at the end. You sigh before replying.

“I didn’t know I had to tell you anything.” You say cooly. Jisoo’s fake smile falters for a moment at your cool response, bt she quickly recovers. She tries to sound friendly, but there’s a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Well, I mean, I’m your friend, aren’t I? I thought you’d want to share the good news with me!” She all but whines out.

“We are hardly friends, we aren’t even acquaintances. Now what do you need, Jisoo?” You ask sternly. Jisoo is taken aback by your directness, her eyes widening in surprise. She looks around at the other coworkers who are nearby, watching the exchange with interest. Realizing that she won’t be able to get anything out of you, she puts on a fake pout and huffs.

“I just wanted to see if you were really going to work for Mr. Yang now. You know everyone’s jealous, right? Especially the girls…even the guys are..” She says. You sigh once more, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.

“Yes, I am working for Mr.Yang, and I really don't have time for everyone’s petty drama, I have more important things to do.” You say nonchalantly. Jisoo, who is clearly frustrated by your indifference, tries to hide it behind a mask of fake understanding. She glances around again at your other coworkers, who are pretending not to listen in. She then looks back at you with a forced smile.

“Right…right. Sorry to bother you then. Good luck with all the ‘personal perks’ then.” She says before walking away to whisper to her friends as soon as she is out of earshot. You ignore them and continue to type on your computer.

The office gossip continues to swirl around you, with coworkers speculating about the nature of your ‘personal perks’ and your relationship with Mr.Yang. Some even try to butter you up, hoping to get some insider information or even try to get on your good side to curry favor with Mr. Yang. But you remain unfazed, typing away on your computer and carrying out your tasks without paying attention to the chatter around you. A couple of hours later, a male coworker by the name of Jake approaches your desk, trying to look suave and confident. You sigh, frustrated, expressing to him that you were annoyed right now.

“How can I help you, Jake?” You ask, annoyed. Jake just leans casually against your desk, trying to catch your eye. He flashes you a charming smile, but it doesn’t seem to faze you, and he can tell. He clears his throat and tries to act nonchalant, even though it’s clear he’s been eagerly waiting for a chance to talk to you.

“Hey Y/N, congrats on the promotion, I heard Mr. Yang gave you a pretty sweet deal,” Jake says, his thick Australian accent coming out. You just nod curtly.

“Yes. Now what can I do for you, Jake?” You ask. Jake’s smile falters slightly at your businesslike tone, but he quickly recovers. He shifts his weight and pretends to examine his nails, trying to play it cool.

“Oh, nothing much, just wanted to see if you needed help with anything. You know, being the new assistant and all.” He says/ You turn to him then go back to typing again.

“I’m okay, thank you, Jake.” You say, subtly dismissing him. Jake gets the hint and straightens up, trying to hide the disappointment. He flashes you one more smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. He awkwardly shuffles away, trying to think of another way to get closer to you, or to find out more about your deal with Mr. Yang.

The day drags on with more gossip and interruptions. Every now and then, a coworker will try to strike up a conversation or offer you help, but you rebuff them all with a polite but firm response. Eventually, the workday comes to an end, and everyone starts to pack up to leave. But just as you’re about to leave, Mr. Yang steps out of his office and calls your name, causing everyone in the office to go silent and turn their attention to you once again. You look up and make eye contact with Mr. Yang before following him to his office. He smiles slightly at you as you follow him into the room, ignoring the envious glares and murmurs from your coworkers. Once inside, he closes the door behind you, giving the two of you privacy.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Yang.” You say to the man. Jungwon’s lips twitch upwards in a small smirk at your formal greeting. He leans back in his chair, studying you for a moment before responding in his deep, honey-like voice.

“Good afternoon Y/N, how are you adjusting so far?” He asks. You smile before your smile drops at your next words.

“Pretty well, however, the other employees are rather nosey.” You say truthfully. Jungwon lets out a low chuckle, his smile widening. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk and steepling his fingers together.

“Ah yes, the ‘personal perks’ I offered you certainly have gotten everyone talking.” You nod in agreement. He chuckles again, clearly amused by the gossip and speculation surrounding both of you. “Well, let them talk. It’s not like any of it is true anyway.” He says again. You look up at him in confusion, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Hm? And what wouldn’t be true?” You ask curiously. Jungwon smirks, his eyes glinting mischievously. He raises an eyebrow, studying your face for a moment before responding in a low, husky tone.

“That we are secretly having an office romance.” You laugh softly at his words before replying.

“That would be highly unprofessional, hm?” You say smirking, emphasizing the word ‘unprofessional’. Jungwon laughs with you, nodding along. For a moment, there’s a charged tension between the two of you, as if he’s silently daring you to challenge his next statement. But then he clears his throat and shifts his gaze to some papers on his desk, breaking the moment.

“Indeed, it would be. Now I have some files I need you to review for me.” He says going back to his professional facade. You hum and nod your head in understanding. He hands you a thick stack of papers, his fingers brushing against yours as he does so. The brief contact sends a jolt of electricity through both of you, but he quickly gestures to the papers in your hand.

“These need to be sorted and organized by the end of the day. Also, we have a meeting with the sales team in 15 minutes, so make sure you are prepared.” Mr. Yang says to you. You agree with a “Yes, Sir.” Jungwon nods in approval, his gaze lingering on you for a moment, before leaning back in his chair. He glances at his watch and then back at you, his expression stern once more.

“Good. Also, you’re doing an excellent job so far. Keep it up.” He says sincerely. You smile and thank him before he dismisses you. You then walk out the door. As you turn to leave, Jungwon can’t help but admire the way your body moves, the fabric of your skirt hugging your curves perfectly. He watches you walk out of his office, his eyes lingering on your hips and thighs until you’re out of sight. Once you’re gone, he lets out a slow breath, adjusting his tie as he feels his cock start to stir in his pants. He runs a hand through his hair, mentally chastising himself for being so distracted by you.

During the 15 minutes leading up to the meeting, Jungwon tries to distract himself with paperwork, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. He finds himself staring blankly at his computer scream, remembering the way your skirt hugged your ass just right, and the way your blouse clung to your breasts. He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the meeting agenda and trying to ignore the growing bulge in his pants. But every time he looks up and sees you diligently working at your desk, his resolve weakens even further. Jungwon shifts uncomfortably in his chair, discreetly adjusting his pants to alleviate the growing tightness. He watches as you work, trying to focus on your professionalism and competence rather than your physical attributes, but it’s a losing battle, especially when he sees your tongue dart out to lick your lips as you concentrate on your task. He swallows hard, feeling a surge of desire wash over him. Just then, the meeting time arrives, and he reluctantly stands to walk to the meeting room, stopping to call you.

“I guess it’s time then.” You say softly. Jungwon just nods stiffly, his gaze flickering to your legs as you stand up from your desk. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to get it together, before gesturing for you to follow him into the meeting room. As you walk beside him, he can smell your perfume, and it’s driving him insane. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants with every step you take, and he mentally curses himself or his lack of self-control. Once in the meeting room, he takes a seat at the head of the table, trying to discreetly adjust himself under the table as the sales team files in.

You turn to Jungwon and whisper so that only he can hear. “Mr. Yang…are you alright? You seem flustered.” You say in faux concern, but there’s a smirk on your face. Jungwon’s eyes widen slightly at your comment, caught off guard by your perceptiveness. He quickly composes himself, clearing his throat and forcing a smile onto his face. He tries to ignore the smirk on your face, knowing that you’re well aware of the effect you’re having onm him, He shifts uncomfrotablty in his chair, discreetly pressing down on his hard cock with his palm, to try to hide his obvious arousal.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little…hot in here is all.” He says, quickly coming up with an excuse. You smile before mentioning something about putting in a request to maintenance later on. He just nods stiffly as he tries to focus on the sales report, but his eyes keep drifting to your lips and also the way your blouse is unbuttoned just enough to give him a glimpse of your cleavage. Somehow despite his distraction, the meeting goes by smoothly. As the room empties, leaving behind just you and Jungwon, you turn to face him. He swallows hard, feeling a rush of anticipation and anxiety as he notices the glint in your eyes. He can tell by the smirk on your face that you know exactly what kind of state he is in, and the thought makes his cock throb even harder. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair again, trying to subtly adjust his pants to hide his massive bulge. He clears his throat, attempting ot sound professional despite the heat coursing through his veins.

“The Um, the meeting is over…” He says almost shakily. Yousmile innocently at him, approaching him.

“It is indeed, however, you seem to have a ‘little’ problem, sir.” You say sultrily. Jungwon’s cheeks flush slightly at your boldness, his gaze darting around the now-empty room before returning to your face. He can feel his cock twitch at yor words, betraying his attempt at nonchalance. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling his resolve crumble even further. He clears his throat again, trying to sound composed but failing miserably.

“I…It’s just…” Jungwon begins, but you interrupt him.

“It’s just what, sir?” You ask cheekily. Jungwon swallows hard, his eyes locking with yours, feeling a surge of desire wash over him.

“You’re just so damn sexy….” He all but groans out. “You have no idea how badly I want to bend you over this table right now…” He says, looking down to ground himself, his hair falling into his face. You smile to yourself.

“Oh? So what’s stopping you?” You ask. His breath hitches at your words, his cock twitching violently in response to your question. He looks up at you with darkened eyes, desire and need etched across his face. He had expected you to be shocked or even offended at his brazenness, but instead you were egging him on. The thought of taking you right now on the table where you had just had your meeting was almost too much for him to bear. He glances around the room again, making sure the coast is clear, before looking back at you. He lets out what sounds close to a growl.

“Because we are in a public space, and I am your boss.” He grits out. You look around the room and then back at him.

“Hm? There’s no one around, and I am supposed to help you personally, aren’t I?” You say smirking. Jungwon’s cock throbs painfully at your words and his resolve shatters completely.

“Lock the door..” he growls out. You do as he says, and as soon as the lock clicks into place, Jungwon pushes his chair back and stands up, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a step towards you, his cock straining against his pants so hard that it’s visible through the fabric of his suit pants. He reaches out and grabs your hips, pulling you flush against him. He groans at the feeling of your body pressed up against his. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you…” He says.

You look up at him. “Mhm? Show me.” You let out breathily. Jungwon doesn’t hesitate, his hands moving from your hips to unbutton your shirt, he growls, a deep primal sound as he sees your lacy bra. He spins you around and bends you over the table, pressing his chest against your back and grinding his hips against your ass. He starts to kiss and nibble on your neck while his hands explore your body, groping your breasts roughly. You moan out at the contact, and he just smirks against your skin, the sound fueling his arousal even further. He pushes your skirt up, revealing your thighs and the lace panties that match your bra. He runs his hand up and down your legs and then delivers a sharp smack to one of your ass cheeks.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” He says. You look back at him from over your shoulder.

“Oh? So c’mon then…don’t tease..we are in a public space after all…” You say teasing him with his earlier words about being in public. Jungwon grits his teeth, your reminder of the setting making him both more excited and more aware of how risky this is. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, his other hand moving to unbuckle and unzip his pants. He tugs your panties down, exposing you completely to him. He rubs his boxer-clad cock against your entrance groaning at the feeling.

Sir…please…” You moan out. He pushes you down further onto the table, making you arch your back beautifully. He finally frees his cock, not even bothering to take his or your clothes off properly. He guides himself to your entrance and starts to push inside, a loud gasp escaping his lips as he does so.

“So tight…how are you so tight?” He groans out. You just moan at his words before finally finding the strength to reply.

“Maybe…maybe you’re just so big!” You whine out. Jungwon just lets out a low chuckle, his grip on your hair tightening as he starts to thrust into you with abandon. He’s too far gone to care about being quiet anymore, and the sound of his hips slapping against your own echoes in the room.

“It’s almost as if you were made for me Y/N…” Jungwon grits out. You whimper at his words before responding.

“Yes! Now claim me like I'm yours…” You scream out. Jungwon’s eyes roll back in pleasure at your words, the thought of claiming you as his making him even more possessive. He pounds into you mercilessly, his pace brutal and fast. He leans down and bites your shoulder, marking you as he growled possessively.

“You are mine. My pretty little assistant to use as I please.” He groans out, which causes you to call out his first name. He continues to ram into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. His breathing is ragged, and he’s getting close. He can feel your walls clenching around him, and he can tell you’re not far behind him. “Say my name again. Scream it for me.” Jungwon moans out.

“Jungwon, please!” You cry out. Hearing you scream out his name pushes him over the edge. He buries himself deep inside you, releasing his load with a deep guttural moan, which in turn pushes you over that ledge as well. He rides out your orgasms, still thrusting into you slowly. After a moment, he collapses on top of you, panting heavily.

“Y/N..you’re amazing, you know that?” He pants out. You just smile tiredly at him. He cleans you up, whispering sweet nothings to you as he does so. And finally, when you both are presentable, you turn to leave to go home. He watches as you leave, his gaze following you until the door closes. He sits down at his desk a short while later, still feeling the aftershocks of your encounter. He can’t help but smile to himself, already looking forward to the next time he can have you like this again.

[belovedhoon]

This was so cute 😭 I loved it so much!!

forget-me-not - HRJ

there’s a secret admirer leaving little notes in your locker. painted in every corner of the paper are forget-me-nots, and on your quest to find the secret admirer, you wonder if they know what the meaning behind these flowers is - and if they themselves mean it.

son of apollo!renjun x daughter of demeter!reader

“This is the third one this week.”

You set the little note down on the table so your friends can take a look. Haechan, curious as always, snatches it up and leans back to inspect it, making Renjun smack his head. A loud whine escapes Haechan’s mouth, but it’s quickly replaced by an offended “hey!” as Shuhua rips the note out of his hands and stands up.

“Dear (y/n),” she reads, her eyes skimming the paper quickly. You sigh and drop your bag on the bench before you sit down and lean your head on Haechan’s shoulder. “It’s adorable to watch you cheer to yourself when you answer something in math correctly. I know you don’t exactly get top scores in the exams, but I’m still proud of you for working hard and bettering yourself everyday. Please remember to take care of yourself and stay hydrated.”

Shuhua sets the note down, but it’s not long before Haechan picks it up so he can properly see every detail. Like every other letter, the flowers that seemed to haunt you adorn every corner, and your name is written in blue. Haechan hums. “That doesn’t sound so bad. He sounds cute.”

“I don’t like being kept in the dark,” you mumble. “I wish they would just tell me.”

“Maybe they’re afraid of rejection.” Shuhua sits down beside you, and she returns to the homework that she was working on before you came. It’s lunch break, and she should be eating right now, but Shuhua’s too busy copying of Renjun, who hasn’t moved since he smacked Haechan. “You know, it’s not like you’re the most available person on earth. You’re hanging out with us like, all the time. If I were them, I’d be to scared to get beat up by Renjun to actually confess.”

Renjun crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Not anyone deserves my (y/n). You think I’ll let some lowlife date her? I’m the dad in this friendship.”

You giggle. It’s always been like this, with Renjun getting overprotective and you having to calm him down. Of course he’d never hinder you, but his approval matters to you, since you’ve known each other your whole life. He taught you how to ride your bike without training wheels, and you in turn taught him how to skate. His first serious artwork was his birthday present to you when you turned twelve, and he received bouqets every year, no matter how silly it seemed. You were best friends, and your parents were too. It was fate.

Haechan lays an arm around your shoulders. “Does this mean I can date (y/n)?”

“Not in a million years, Lee.”

You take the note and pocket it, making yourself a mental note to put it to the others when you get back to your dorm. These notes seem to appear out of nowhere, slid into one of your books after any lesson, not even a specific one. It’s impossible to catch the secret admirer, no matter how much Renjun and you scout the halls. Truth be told, it makes your best friend a little restless.

And those flowers. Those pesky, beautiful flowers.

Since you were a child, you had adored flowers and their deeper meaning. Other families had heirlooms, you had the meaning of every single plant in existence imprinted into your mind, thanks to your godly mother and the lessons she had offered you in herbology. To you, it was law to be an expert on any kind of plant. So when the secret admirer painted the blue petals on the love letter, you wanted to find him immediately.

Forget-me-nots. True and undying love. Fidelity and loyalty in a relationship. The growing affection between two people.

“I want to see them,” you said to no one in particular. “I want to thank them for their sincerity.”

Little do you know that your secret admirer hears you loud and clear.

❀ ❀ ❀

Renjun doesn’t know when cupid’s arrow first shot him, but he’s thankful for it anyway. Loving you comes to him as easy as painting, it’s his favorite thing to do in the world. Some time over the course of many years, Renjun has started to draw you and now he can’t stop. He looks at you like like an art collector would look at a Rembrandt piece, but you’re much more worth to him than any artwork in the world.

You’re perfect.

He sees your flaws and he loves them, because they make you human. The little details that stand out to him. Your infectious laughter. Your habit of running your fingers through his hair. The way you fall asleep against his shoulder after a long, tiring day. He loves it all. He loves you.

But he can’t tell you.

He isn’t able to put into words - he’s an artist, not a writer. He’s lucky he doesn’t forget how to speak in front of you, because you make him that nervous. Just by giggling. By looking his way a little too long. By being yourself. So he leaves you those letters, and he imprints them with your favorite thing in the entire world - flowers.

The day you had first learned how to make a flower crown was one of his favorite memories of you. You had beamed, showing him the handmade crown you had created out of daisies, proud of what you accomplished. “This is for you,” you had said. “I’m crowning you my flower prince.”

Gosh, he wants to kiss you so bad. You’re too cute to handle. But all he’s able to do is stare from afar while you ponder over his love notes and hope that they’re enough resistance to keep you away from other boys. He wishes he could muster up the courage to tell you in person how he feels about you. But it’s hard to toss a lifetime’s worth of memories as friends away for some crush he’s been having on you.

What if you reject him? What if it ruins your friendship? What if you never talk again?

So he stays quiet and plays good best friend. Nice Renjunnie who listens to (y/n) blabber about good-looking guys. Everything is going well.

As long as he gets to hold you like this.

It makes Renjun’s heart burst in happiness when you fall asleep with your head on his chest, arms wrapped around his waist to keep him there. You let him play with your hair as you slip into dreamland, and your hold on him is always tight, no matter how deeply asleep you are. To put it simply, he’s your life-size teddybear.

Not like he’s complaining.

Renjuns swipes his fingertips over your cheekbone. He imagines his brush in his hands, painting you on a canvas as he redraws the structure of your face. Your cupid’s bow. The tip of your nose. If he leant down right now, he could kiss you. But he doesn’t.

His heart yearns for you. He wishes for you to love him back. After all, a muse that loves the artist is the best muse of them all.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Any notes?”

You look into the living room. Shuhua’s standing there, soaked from the rain, a pout on her lips. You shake your head and laugh. “Go change,” you tell her, “before you catch a cold. Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve picked you up.”

The girl huffs quietly. She seems pretty annoyed, but anyone would be in a situation like that. “I was in the middle of walking home when it started pouring. I just ran the rest of the way, but it still got me pretty badly.” A puddle forms to the girl’s feet as she steps out of her wet clothing and accepts the towel you offer her. “Any assumptions on who the secret admirer is?”

“No.” You leave Shuhua in the living room and enter hers, so you can get her a fresh change of clothes. You grab a hoodie which you’re pretty sure belongs to Haechan and walk back. She’s sitting on the floor, her hair up in the towel. “I didn’t magically find out who it is after lunch, Shuhua. How am I supposed to? I don’t even know what classes I share with them. The notes seem to appear anywhere and everywhere.”

“Who do you want it to be?”

The question catches you off-guard. You never thought of it that way. Since you first started receiving letters, you’ve been obsessed on finding out who it is, but you never thought about that possibility...

You clear your throat. “What do you mean?”

Shuhua takes a long time to answer you. After she snatches the big, oversized hoodie out of your hands and slides it on, she starts braiding her hair back so it doesn’t bother her. “You like Renjun,” she says. It’s not a question, but a statement.

“Duh,” you respond, but you sound unsure. “He’s my best friend.”

“Don’t play dumb.” She interlocks your fingers, and then Shuhua rests her head on your shoulder. She smells like that Marc Jacobs perfume you got her for her birthday. “There’s not a person who knows you better than Renjun, but I’m pretty sure I know you well, too. You’re very important to me. And I think you’ve started noticing your feelings for Renjun, too. Or maybe I’m just forcing you to. But there’s something going on with you.”

You like the way Shuhua speaks. Not careless about other’s opinions, but still sincere, confident. She lays out her own opinion and stands to it. She’s not ... headstrong. It’s just the right amount of intelligence and consideration. But her words weigh heavy on your heart.

Do you like Renjun?

It’s weird to look at him that way. Huang Renjun, who looks best with his paint brushes in his hands, grinning from ear to ear when he finishes a painting he’s been working so hard on. Renjun, who learned how to style your hair after you complained that you didn’t have a mommy who would ever do that for you. Renjun, who sends you the math answers and an explanation, because he cares about your grades just as much as he cares about you.

It’s weird. But it fits. It’s just natural.

You do like Renjun. A lot. You want to make him a flower crown out of forget-me-nots and roses, and you want him to be the secret admirer. But if he isn’t, and he doesn’t like you, this could go very wrong.

“You’re right,” you quietly admit. “I like Renjun. I wish it was him.”

“I think it is.” Shuhua turns in your arms, before she stands up and looks you in the eyes. Her mother Selene hated passion, but someone in this world had managed to make her fall in love and gift this world with the existence of Shuhua. She‘s one of the lucky rare children in this world who‘s godly parent stayed, because they weren‘t olympian, they didn‘t have any duties to fulfill. There was a time where Selene only focussed on raising the moon every night, but that time has passed and Artemis was born. Selene is free, immortal, but somehow human. You can see the moonlight in Shuhua‘s eyes. All the love that was poured into this woman. The stars and every secret that has been ever whispered to them.

In another life, you would‘ve fallen for her.

„Why do you think it‘s him?“

„Because I saw him pass our door.“ She brushes your hair out of your face, a smile on her lips. „And I saw him leave the note. Really, we should have known. There are so many artsy children of Apollo on campus, but there‘s only one that knows you‘re obsessed with flowers and their meanings. I picked it up. Here you go.“

Dear (y/n),

you make the sun envious. It‘s because to me, nothing shines brighter than you and your good heart. Please take care of yourself and know that I care about you, too. Don‘t go to sleep too late.

You laugh, folding the letter again and holding it against your heart. Shuhua giggles aswell, happy that you‘re happy. There‘s a giddy feeling making your head spin, longing for the man who conquered your heart. „What are you waiting for, silly? Go get him!“, Shuhua ushers you, and you don‘t need to be told twice. A quick kiss to your friend‘s forehead, then you quickly stand up to slip into some sneakers and run out of the door.

Shuhua watches as you leave. She holds a hand to the place where your lips had touched her skin, the feeling lingering. It feels beyond satisfying to see you happy. It‘s the only thing she ever wants.

In another life, Shuhua would have admitted her feelings to you. The girl who moved the cold moon. But for now, she lets you go chase the sun.

❀ ❀ ❀

Renjun‘s room is tidy as always.

You tiptoe inside, since your best friend is fast asleep on his bed, a brush in his hand, long forgotten. You can see the painted canvas, but it‘s only silhouettes, far away from the final touches. Carefully, slowly, you pluck the wooden tool out of Renjun‘s hand and set it down. He stirs, but doesn‘t wake up.

Your hand moves on its‘ own accord as you dishevel the young man‘s hair, the softness suprising you as always. For dyeing it so often, it sure feels healthy. Renjun wakes up after you play for it for atleast a few minutes, but he doesn‘t open his eyes. „That‘s a nice way to wake me up.“

„Can I tell you something?“

He opens his eyes. An awkward pause settles into the room, before he quickly answers: „Yeah, what‘s up?“

„You have to promise not to laugh.“

„Okay, you weirdo. I promise.“ Renjun pulls you on his bed so that you sit beside his reclining body, mouth stretched open to yawn. He‘s so beautiful. More beautiful than any wonder of nature you‘ve ever seen.

„I love you like Dante Rosetti loved Elizabeth Siddal.“

Renjun gapes. Nervous, you play with your fingers. Did he not understand the innuendo? „You know, like the painters? Because Elizabeth was his muse? I thought...“

„That,“ Renjun says, „was the cheesiest thing I‘ve ever heard in my life. Disgusting.“ And then he tugs you down, hands cradling your face, and he kisses you. He kisses you like he‘s done this a thousand times before with you, like he‘d been craving you all day long. It makes your heart race and your cheeks darken, but you kiss him back with the same fervor.

The kiss sets you free. It makes you feel all warm, and your heart is doing sommersaults. You like that feeling. You like what Renjun does to your mind and to the butterflies in your stomach. You like Renjun, end of sentence.

You only part from each other because you desperately need air to breathe, but that doesn‘t stop Renjun from pulling you besides him and rolling on top of you. He literally beams at you. „You love me?“

„Yes, you idiot!“ you exclaim. „And all I got for my romantic love confession was an insult. I googled that, you know. It was so sweet of you to use a flower with meaning on the letters ... and I wanted to put some thought into it, aswell.“

„You know?“ Renjun caresses your cheek with his thumb. „That I‘ve written all the love letters?“

„I‘ll tell you how I found out later. Now, Huang Renjun...“ You wrap your arms around his neck. „Did you really mean it when you wanted to spend eternity with me? Because I‘m not taking no as an answer. Forget-me-nots are serious business, you know.“

He answers you by kissing you again. And again. And again. If you‘d like, he‘ll prove to you how serious he was for the rest of his life, starting from now, ending never...

[belovedhoon]

Jeez I loved this…

THE PURGE SERIES #1: Kiss Me - pjs

SYNOPSIS: You hate the Purge. You hate the monster they create, the cruelty, and the way it's broken you down year after year. You hate the rich most of all—the people who don't have to fight to survive. People like Park Jongseong. And now, somehow, he's sitting next to you. The boy who's always smiling, always comfortable, as if the world hasn't burned down around him. The boy who lives in safety, behind barricades his father's company builds, while you've spent years starving, hiding, and praying. Jongseong keeps smiling at you, oblivious to the weight of your hatred. He doesn't care about you, not really. To him, life is simple. And maybe that's why you can't stand him. Because while he laughs, you're trying to figure out how to make sure people like him never smile again.

warning: contains dark sensitive topics, mentions of murder, sexual assault, violence, and ptsd behavior, different perspectives of the purge, one sided hatred, reader is kinda difficult to handle but it's a trauma response, messy ending, jay is a supportive boyfie (in a good and bad ways), reader is unhinged, explicit content (3 diff scenes smut), fingering, nipple play, pussy eating, unprotected sex, doggy style, purge fucking, MDNI, reader discretion is advised. WC: 21.8K.

music to listen while purging: murder in my mind

You hate March 21. God, how you loathe it—the day that strips away any pretense of humanity.

It always starts the same way: the wailing sirens, cold and mechanical, ripping through the air.

Not even sixty seconds pass after the announcement before the streets erupt. Gunshots. Screams. The unmistakable, animalistic sounds of survival. The world falls apart faster than you can blink, faster than you can even take a breath. And every year, you sit in that darkness, trembling, hating.

You hate how they made this—how society carved out one single night to let its ugliest urges spill over.

You hate the twisted smiles on people's faces, the gleeful violence, the merciless slaughter. You hate everything about it.

You hate how weak you are. How poor you are. How your "barricade" is nothing but a creaky door and a pile of junk you've pushed in front of it. Heavy chairs, the couch, a dresser you could barely move—what is that supposed to do against the monsters outside?

They'll break through it in minutes, seconds even, if they choose you this year.

And there's nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

So you crawl inside the closet, knees tucked into your chest, hands pressing hard over your ears as the chaos outside creeps closer and closer. You rock back and forth, whispering to yourself, "Just twelve hours. You just have to survive twelve hours."

You hate how your morals hold you hostage.

You're too much of a coward, aren't you? Or maybe you're too human, too stupidly tied to the idea of right and wrong.

Either way, you've sentenced yourself to this endless nightmare.

You hate how they have no mercy. How people don't even hesitate.

The second those sirens stop, the masks go on, the knives come out, and the laughter—the laughter—starts echoing down the streets like some kind of hellish symphony.

You hate the way your mind races, picturing your own end over and over again. Would it be quick? A bullet to the head? Or would it be slow? Something worse?

You hate how poor you are. How people like you—people who can't afford high-tech barricades, bulletproof shelters, or private security.

You're the bottom rung of society, the lambs to the slaughter. And that's exactly how they see you. Nothing more than sport for the rich.

You've been their prey before—dragged into one of their "games." Their sick, twisted hunting expeditions where they wear masks and hunt you down like animals, laughing all the while.

Somehow, you survived that night. Somehow, you ran fast enough, hid well enough. But you didn't leave unscathed.

No, you left something behind that night: your sanity.

You can still feel their eyes on you, their jeers echoing in your ears, their mocking laughter as they cornered you over and over, just to let you escape so the game could continue.

You see their faces—those masks—every time you close your eyes.

And no matter where you go, it's always the same.

You transfer to a new town, a new neighborhood, hoping to disappear, but you always end up right back here.

They smile too wide, your neighbors. They're too friendly. Too eager to see you. And every time they stare at you, every time their grins linger a little too long, you feel the bile rise in your throat.

You hate everything about the Purge.

You hate the people who participate in it, the government that allows it, the sick, twisted minds that relish in it.

You hate the monsters you've seen outside, but you hate the monster you're becoming even more.

Because every year, it gets harder. Harder to keep your sanity intact. Harder to resist. Harder to keep your morals from shattering under the weight of it all. And every year, the hatred inside you grows like a poison, rotting you from the inside out.

You hate how you're always waiting. Waiting for another March 21.

Waiting for the next time you'll have to endure this torment. Waiting for the day you finally snap, when you stop running, when you stop hiding, and when you start fighting back.

You hate the waiting more than anything because you know that day is coming. You know it's only a matter of time before something inside you finally breaks.

And when it does, you'll hunt them down. Every last one of them. The rich who preyed on you. The neighbors who smiled too wide while undressing you. The government officials who allowed this nightmare to persist.

You hate March 21.

But more than that, you hate how much you're starting to look forward to it.

"I see you survived the Purge," you muttered, your eyes narrowing as they landed on the group of seven boys in the hallway.

They were laughing softly, their voices laced with relief as they exchanged hugs and pats on the back.

"Thank God," one of them said, gripping the others in a tight embrace, his shoulders sagging like he'd been holding his breath for the last twelve hours.

"I already told you guys," another voice chimed in—smooth, Park Jongseong. Of course.

"Next year, you should all come to our house. Our lockdown is solid. Our barricades are strong enough to keep anyone out. You'll be safe there, trust me."

You scoffed, the sound low and bitter, but loud enough to be heard if anyone was paying attention. Of course, they weren't. They never noticed you. Not people like them.

Park Jongseong— the golden boy. His father owned one of the biggest barricade companies in the country, making a fortune off other people's desperation and fear.

He didn't just survive the Purge; he thrived in it. His family's state-of-the-art lockdown system probably made their house into a fortress.

And now here he was, standing in the middle of the school hallway, flashing that perfect smile and talking about how his family had been "safe and sound" while people like you hid under a bed, praying not to die.

You bit the inside of your cheek, tasting blood, and turned away. Of course Jongseong had survived. People like him always did.

You were miserable. Miserable every single day for the past seven years since the Purge began.

Seven years since the night your parents were taken from you on that first Purge.

Seven years of surviving on your own, scrabbling through life like a rat in a never-ending maze.

An irregular college student balancing four jobs just to afford rent, tuition, and scraps of food that barely kept you standing.

And some nights, when you're too tired to even close your eyes, the same thought creeps in, like a whisper you can't shut out.

Why can't you just die already?

Was this what God wanted for you? Was your suffering some part of His great plan? If it was, you hated Him for it. You hated everything—for putting you here, for making you live like this, for keeping you alive while everyone else you cared about was gone.

Then came August. Seven months before the next Purge, You took your entire month's pay—every single cent you'd earned and bought a handgun from a retired Russian police man who didn't ask questions.

You didn't eat for weeks after that, barely managing to survive on water and scraps you could steal from work.

Hunger clawed at your stomach, but you didn't care. Every second of discomfort was worth it as you cradled the gun in your hands at night, running your fingers over the cold steel.

At college, exhaustion weighed on you like a heavy coat. Your mind was foggy, your body barely cooperating as you tried to focus in class. You were too tired to care about anything anymore. That's why, when you heard the voice, you didn't even look up at first.

"Hey, are you Y/N?"

You blinked, sluggishly dragging your tired eyes up to meet the man.

Park Jongseong. He was standing there, his usual easy smile on his face, holding a lab manual in one hand.

Your brows furrowed as he sat down next to you like it was the most natural thing in the world. You raised an eyebrow at him, watching in silent disbelief as he got comfortable.

"We're partners in laboratory," he announced with that same friendly grin, his tone light and conversational.

You stared at him, your eyebrow twitching slightly. Of course, we are. Just my fucking luck.

You hated him. You hated everything about him.

You hated how he could walk into a room and light it up, how he always smiled like life was some perfect little gift wrapped up in a bow.

You hated how easy everything seemed for him, how he floated through life without ever seeming to care about the world around him.

Jongseong keeps smiling at you, oblivious to the weight of your hatred. He doesn't care about you, not really. To him, life is simple. And maybe that's why you can't stand him.

Because while he laughs, you're trying to figure out how to make sure people like him never smile again.

"I'm Park Jongseong," he says brightly, "You can call me Jay, if you don't know me."

You stare at him with your tired eyes, barely masking your irritation. His enthusiasm is exhausting, like a candle burning too brightly, too close to your already frayed nerves.

But he doesn't seem to notice. Of course, he doesn't. He keeps talking.

"I'm planning to start our experimental research maybe in like three days? I don't really like cramming," Jay continues, flashing you another one of his easy smiles.

"Are you available on Saturday?" he asks, finally looking at you. "Do you want to do it at my place or yours?"

His smile falters for the first time when you just stare at him, bored and uninterested, like he's wasting your time—which he is.

He must be so used to people hanging on his every word, eating up his charm. You, on the other hand, are trying to figure out how long you have to tolerate him before he leaves.

"I have a morning shift at the ice cream shop. Probably the afternoon, but I'll leave at 7 PM," you reply flatly, spinning your pen lazily between your fingers. You're not trying to be rude.

You're just tired—tired of him, tired of everything. "Then I have another shift at the restaurant."

Jay nods, and for a moment, you think he's about to say something stupid, like you work too hard or you should take it easy. But he doesn't. Instead, he watches you for a second too long before his smile returns, a little dimmer than before.

"And your place," you add, cutting off whatever he was going to say. The idea of being in his house, surrounded by whatever rich-boy luxuries he has, makes your stomach churn.

Jay blinks, then nods again. "Alright, my place it is," he says, his tone softer, as if he's trying to figure you out.

You hate it—hate the way his gaze lingers on you.

You turn your attention back to your notebook, letting the silence hang between you until he finally shifts in his seat and looks away. At least he knows when to stop talking. For now.

You observe people every shift. At the ice cream shop, kids cry and tug at their parents, pointing at a flavor they desperately want. At the fast food chain, students laugh, stuffing fries into each other's mouths, their joy spilling out into the air.

You watch them. You clean up after them. And when no one's looking, you pick at their scraps—half-eaten burgers, fries left behind—anything to stave off the hunger that gnaws at you day and night.

When you sneak into the back to wash your hands, you catch your reflection in the grimy bathroom mirror. It almost shocks you, the hollow-cheeked girl staring back.

Your dark eye bags seem to sink into your face like bruises, your cheekbones sharp enough to look dangerous. Your lips are pale, chapped from thirst, and your hoodie swallows what little remains of you.

Even when you do sleep, it's never peaceful.

The nightmares always find you, pulling you back to that night—hands grabbing, voices laughing, the cold press of a mask against your skin.

Not even the sleeping pills you've wasted money on help anymore. You've tried. God knows you've tried. But the fear is something you can't escape.

And then Saturday comes.

Jay welcomes you at his house with his usual easy smile.

You stand awkwardly at the entrance, your eyes immediately drawn to the luxurious details surrounding you.

Expensive vases line the walls. A cabinet full of fine liquor gleams under the lights. Everything in the house feels deliberate, pristine, and just looking at it makes you feel like you don't belong.

"This way," Jay says cheerfully, leading you to his room.

The moment you step inside, you're greeted with more of the same—displays of wealth that feel almost obscene to you. A collection of guitars lined up like trophies. A cabinet stuffed with fancy perfumes. Everything here screams a life of comfort, of privilege, of a world you'll never touch.

"Are you always cold? Want me to lower the aircon?" Jay asks suddenly, his gaze flicking to your oversized hoodie.

You almost punch him for the question. The audacity of it. 

Are rich people really this clueless?

The irritation bubbles up. You almost imagine your hands around his neck, squeezing some sense into him.

"No, thanks," you say curtly, not bothering to hide your annoyance. You drop to the floor, pulling out your notebook and pen, ignoring the uncomfortable tension forming between you.

"You can sit on my bed," Jay offers, reaching out to touch your arm like it's no big deal.

But the moment his hand brushes your sleeve, your mind snaps. You're not in his room anymore. You're back there—on that night—being grabbed, pulled, restrained. Masked faces loom in your vision, their laughter ringing in your ears like a sick melody.

Before you even realize it, you've slapped his hand away, standing so fast you almost knock your notebook over.

"I—I'm sorry," you stammer, your voice shaky as you rub your arm. Jay just stands there, his hand hovering in the air, confusion written all over his face.

"It's fine," he says quickly. His smile is gone now, replaced by something softer.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to sit down again—this time on the bed, even though you'd rather be anywhere else. You pull your notebook back into your lap, flipping it open as if nothing happened, your hands trembling slightly.

The two of you work in near silence, researching for your lab project. Jay tries to engage you now and then, asking for your thoughts, but you keep your answers brief. You don't want to talk. You don't want to share. You just want to get through this.

After a while, Jay breaks the silence again. "How many jobs do you have?" he asks, his voice almost hesitant. "How do you manage school and work?"

You huff, irritated by his questions. What does he know about working to survive? What does he know about balancing your life on a thread?

"I don't manage," you reply bluntly. "I'm already planning to stop after this semester."

Jay straightens in his seat, frowning slightly. "Why?"

"Because I can't afford it anymore," you snap, your patience wearing thin. Your voice is sharper than you intend, but you don't care. You glare at him, daring him to argue, to say something stupid like, You should keep trying.

But Jay just looks down, his gaze softening. "I'm sorry," he whispers, almost too quiet to hear.

Before you can respond, a knock interrupts the moment. A head peeks into the room—a woman with wavy hair and a face so similar to Jay's that it's clear she's his mother.

"Heard you had a classmate over," she says warmly. "Come down and eat."

Jay stands immediately, glancing at you as if waiting to see if you'll follow. You nod stiffly, clutching your notebook to your chest as you trail behind him, feeling awkward in a house like this.

When you reach the dining room, your stomach grumbles embarrassingly loud at the sight of the food. A table full of steaming dishes spreads out before you, prepared by maids who move around effortlessly. You've never seen this much food at once before, not even during the holidays.

"Come, sit, sweetheart," Jay's mom says, pulling a chair out for you. Her voice is so kind, so gentle, that it makes your chest ache.

You sit down slowly, staring at the food like it's a mirage. Jay's mom piles your plate high with food, her warm smile reminding you so much of your own mother that your throat tightens.

"Eat, don't be shy," she says, her voice light and encouraging.

Your hands shake as you pick up the spoon, the first bite warming your tongue. 

The taste is overwhelming, rich and filling, and it's so good that tears prick at the corners of your eyes. 

You quickly take another bite, and another, ignoring the lump in your throat.

Jay watches you quietly, his gaze flicking to your small, trembling hands. His eyes catch on the scars peeking out from your sleeves as your sweater rides up.

"So, where are you from? It's my first time seeing you here! Jay's always bringing friends over—so many faces!" His mother's voice was cheerful, her smile warm and inviting.

"I'm from Las Vegas," you replied, keeping your eyes on your empty plate. You didn't want to talk, but her energy made it hard to ignore her.

Your gaze shifted to Jay as he leaned over, silently placing more food onto your plate.

"Oh, Las Vegas!" His mom exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "What made you settle here in Seattle? Life is so exciting over there! So bright and lively!"

"Not really," you said, inhaling sharply as you tried to keep your tone even. The last thing you wanted was to go deeper into that conversation.

She didn't seem to notice your discomfort. "Oh, I see. Well, what do your parents do for a living?"

You froze. The fork in your hand stilled as memories rushed back like a tidal wave.

The screams. The blood. The way your parents looked at you, their faces twisted in pain as you hid, trembling in the cabinet.

"They're dead," you said bluntly, gripping your fork so tightly your knuckles turned white.

The room seemed to grow quieter. His mother's cheerful expression faltered. "Pardon?"

"They're de—" you started, but the words caught in your throat. Your pulse quickened, your chest tightening, and before you could finish, Jay cut in.

"It's already almost 7:00," he said quickly, "Didn't you say you have a shift?"

You looked at him, startled. His gaze met yours, and for the first time, his ever-present smile was gone. Instead, his eyes were steady, watching you carefully, like he knew you were unraveling and didn't want to make it worse.

You took the excuse without hesitation. "Yeah," you muttered, shoving your chair back as you stood. "I should go."

His mom looked like she wanted to say something, but Jay rose from his seat, cutting her off with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'll walk her out," he said softly.

"Thank you for the food, Mrs. Park," you smiled, trying to look natural, bowing at her. You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, refusing to look back at the table, at the food, at his mother's concerned face. Your throat burned as you fought the tears threatening to spill over.

Jay followed you silently as you stepped into the hallway. Once you were out of earshot, he finally spoke.

"You didn't have to answer her," he said gently.

You stopped in your tracks, gripping the strap of your bag tightly. "I didn't want to," you said flatly, your voice trembling just a little. "But people always ask. Like they have the right to know."

Jay didn't respond immediately. When you glanced at him, he looked... softer, his usual brightness dimmed with something quieter. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and careful. "She didn't mean anything by it. My mom's just... the type to ask questions. She doesn't think it'll hurt anyone."

"Yeah, well, it does," you snapped, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself. Your voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet hallway. But Jay didn't flinch. He just nodded, that same calm expression on his face, like he understood.

And for some reason, that made you angrier.

Your bag strap digging into your shoulder as you stared at him. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward. Your chest burned with frustration, your hands curling into fists at your sides. You weren't sure what you were mad at—his mom's question, his calm demeanor, or the fact that he kept pretending to get you when he didn't.

The words tumbled out. "What are your thoughts about the Purge, Jay?"

Jay's eyes widened, caught off guard by the sudden question. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like he was carefully picking his words.

"I—I don't agree with it," he said finally, his voice quiet..

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "You don't agree with it?" you repeated, mocking his tone.

"That's rich. The Purge is the reason why you're making money, Jay. It's why your family's living in that giant house with your shiny vases and fancy barricades."

Jay blinked, visibly taken aback. "That's not fair," he said, his voice soft but firm.

"Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice rising.

"Your dad's company makes barricades, doesn't it? Every year, people like you get richer while people like me..." You trailed off, shaking your head as your throat tightened. "You don't get to sit there and say you don't agree with it. Not when your family profits from it."

Jay's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt. He just looked at you, his expression unreadable.

"And you know what's funny?" you continued, the bitterness spilling out of you now. "You probably spend Purge night in your fortress of a house, watching movies or playing board games with your family while the rest of us are out there dying. You don't even have to think about it, do you?"

"That's not true," Jay said quietly, his hands clenching at his sides. "I do think about it."

"Oh, do you?" you snapped, glaring at him. "What, do you spend a whole five minutes feeling bad for people like me before you go back to your perfect little life?"

"That's not what I—" Jay started, but you cut him off.

"You don't get it, Jay," you said, your voice trembling now, anger and exhaustion mixing into a volatile cocktail. "You'll never get it. You don't know what it's like to be hunted like an animal while people laugh. So don't stand there and tell me you 'don't agree with it,' because that doesn't mean anything coming from you."

Jay looked like he wanted to say something—his mouth opened, but no words came out. His shoulders slumped slightly, and for a moment, you thought you saw guilt flash across his face.

"I'm sorry," Jay said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You froze, your anger faltering for a moment as his words sunk in. Your chest tightened, and your eyes softened just slightly, guilt prickling at the edges of your mind. What were you even doing?

But the shame and bitterness were too much to face. You turned away quickly, your voice small and strained. "I'm sorry... I should go," you murmured, gripping the strap of your bag as you hurried to leave.

Jay didn't stop you. He just watched your retreating figure, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. As the door clicked shut behind you, he sat down heavily, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how. And the way you looked at him, like he was the problem, made it feel impossible.

The weeks passed in a blur of survival and self-destruction. Bullets were fucking expensive. Even knives cost more than you expected, and every penny you earned disappeared the moment it hit your hands. Life was getting harder.

The monster inside you—was growing louder, feeding off your exhaustion and anger.

At night, when you weren't working, you trained yourself obsessively. Watching documentaries on how to kill someone. Studying anatomy. Practicing with your weapons until your hands were blistered and shaking. 

You didn't care if your body couldn't take it anymore. Pain didn't matter. Hunger didn't matter. Nothing mattered except being ready.

But as the weeks dragged on, it became harder to keep going.

Your hoodie, the one you wore every day like a second skin, was filthy and smelled of sweat and exhaustion. Your body was sore in every possible way.

Your reflection in the mirror was worse than before—hollow eyes, sallow skin, dark circles so deep. And every time you saw yourself, you thought the same thing.

You just want to die already.

One night, your phone buzzed. It was a message from Jay.

"Y/N, I'm sorry to bother you, but you haven't been coming to class. I can handle most of the project on my own, but for this reporting, I really need your presence."

You stared at the message for a long time, debating whether to ignore it. But something in you caved. Maybe it was guilt. You replied: "Okay. I'll come."

Jay welcomed you into his house again, you ended up on his bed, laptop in your lap as you both worked on the PowerPoint for your report. The room was quiet except for the sound of typing, but every movement felt like a struggle. Your body ached. Your head throbbed. You could barely focus, and every second felt like a fight to stay upright.

It wasn't long before your body gave up.

The laptop slipped from your lap, crashing to the floor as your vision blurred. The last thing you heard before everything went dark was Jay's panicked voice calling your name.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a white ceiling. 

The faint smell of alcohol and disinfectant filled the air, and the sharp tug of a needle in your arm made you realize you were hooked up to an IV. An oxygen tube rested under your nose, and your body felt impossibly heavy, as if all the exhaustion you'd been ignoring had finally caught up with you.

Your gaze drifted down to your body—and then you saw it.

You were wearing a hospital gown.

Panic gripped you instantly. Your chest tightened, your breathing quickening as your hands clawed at the fabric.

"No, no, no," you whispered, your voice trembling as your heart pounded in your ears.

Memories of hands grabbing at you, tearing at your clothes, flashed through your mind like lightning. You gasped for air, a faint scream slipping from your lips.

Jay jolted awake from the chair beside you, his eyes wide with alarm.

"W-what's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with panic. He moved closer, his hands hovering uncertainly like he wasn't sure if he should touch you.

"H-hoodie," you stammered, gripping his arm with weak, trembling hands. Your nails dug into his skin. "Need to cover. Ugly. Ugly."

Jay winced at the pain but didn't pull away. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he said gently, his voice calm and soothing. "You're okay. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you."

"No," you whimpered, shaking your head as tears streamed down your face. "I'm ugly. Don't look." Your hands fumbled to pull the gown tighter around you, but it didn't help. You could feel the scars beneath it—the raised lines.

Jay hesitated for a moment before slowly reaching out to cover your hands with his. His touch was warm, steady, and he squeezed your fingers just enough to ground you.

"You're not ugly," he said softly, his tone so sincere it made your chest ache.

You shook your head again, your voice breaking as panic surged through you. "You don't understand. You don't know what they did to me. What I look like—"

"Calm down," Jay interrupted, his voice steady but still gentle, as if he were trying to anchor you to the moment.

He closed his eyes and turned his head slightly to the side, a gesture meant to reassure you. "I'm not looking, okay? I'm not looking."

His words made you pause, your breathing still uneven but slowing just a little as you clung to his arm. The panic was still there, buzzing under your skin, but his calmness was starting to chip away at it, little by little.

"You're safe now," Jay said, his tone softer this time, "and you're not alone, okay? I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Just calm down, breathe in, breathe out. You can do this."

You tried to follow his instructions, inhaling shakily and letting the air out in uneven bursts. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to keep you grounded, enough to stop the tears blurring your vision completely.

Jay's hand was warm against yours, his fingers gentle but firm as he held on. "What do you want me to get?" he asked softly, his voice careful, his head still turned slightly away so you wouldn't feel watched.

"My hoodie," you whispered, your voice weak and pleading. "I need it. Please."

Jay glanced at the IV in your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You have an IV in your skin," he said quietly. "It's still not okay for you to wear your hoodie yet. If you pull at it, you could hurt yourself."

You looked away, shame and frustration boiling under your skin, your fingers gripping the hospital blanket tightly. "I don't care," you mumbled, your voice trembling.

Jay sighed softly, squeezing your hand again to ground you. "I know you don't feel comfortable," he said, his tone gentle but firm, "but if it's too hot or heavy right now, I don't want you to hurt yourself trying to put it on."

You clenched your jaw, swallowing back another wave of tears. "I just—I need to cover up," you said, your voice breaking again.

Jay hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said carefully, "if you're not comfortable in the gown, I can get you a long-sleeve nightgown instead. Something softer. Something that'll cover your arms. Is that what you want?"

You glanced at him, your lip trembling, and nodded weakly. "Yeah," you whispered, barely audible.

Jay gave your hand one last gentle squeeze before slowly standing up. "I'll go ask the nurses," he said softly.

Days had passed, and Jay had stayed by your side, refusing to leave, despite how much of a burden you felt like.

He wasn't overbearing or hovering—just quietly there, helping you in any way he could.

He brought you meals, water, even helped you comb through your disheveled hair when your strength failed you. He didn't ask questions about what happened, didn't demand explanations.

His mother visited often, sweeping into the room with an energy that made your chest ache. She came with baskets of fruit, flowers, and small gifts, her arms overflowing like she was trying to smother you with kindness.

On one visit, she hugged you tightly, tears in her eyes, and said, "You need to take better care of yourself, sweetheart. Your life is precious."

Her words pierced through you, bringing a lump to your throat. You didn't have the heart to respond, just nodded, even though deep down you still didn't believe her.

Jay's friends, Sunoo and Ni-ki, had even come to visit. Despite the fact that they didn't know you at all, they acted like you were an old friend.

They brought a snake and ladder board game, and before you knew it, they were sitting cross-legged on your hospital bed, loudly cheering, groaning, and playfully arguing over the dice rolls. Their laughter filled the room, echoing against the sterile walls and spilling over the edges of your heart.

At first, you just watched them silently, your hands resting in your lap, unsure of how to react. But as the game went on, you found yourself drawn in—your dead eyes softening as you watched them bicker like kids, a faint half-smile tugging at your lips.

For the first time in what felt like years, you felt something other than pain. Just a flicker, but it was there. A tiny seed of happiness.

"What do you want to eat today?" Jay asked, smiling as he sat at the edge of your bed, peeling an apple with practiced ease.

"I want rice cakes!" Ni-ki chimed in, raising his hand like an excited child.

Sunoo rolled his eyes dramatically, crossing his arms. "Yuck! We had rice cakes yesterday!"

Their back-and-forth made you chuckle softly, a sound you hadn't heard from yourself in a long time.

But later, when the room grew quiet again, and it was just you and Jay, that flicker of happiness gave way to something heavier. Guilt.

You glanced at Jay as he sat by the window, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. His face was relaxed, the sunlight catching the soft angles of his features. He had done so much for you—things he didn't have to do. And all this time, you had hated him. Misunderstood him.

You had assumed the worst of him, just because he was rich.

You had lumped him in with the monsters who had ruined your life, convinced yourself that he was just another spoiled, privileged kid who wouldn't understand what suffering felt like. But the truth was... he wasn't.

He wasn't the people who had hunted you, mocked you, stripped you of your humanity. He wasn't the people who laughed behind masks, thriving on fear and violence.

Jay had done nothing but help you, even when you were rude to him, even when you pushed him away.

And yet, the guilt didn't erase your pain. It didn't undo your trauma or silence the nightmares that still haunted you.

You still hated the world that allowed the Purge to exist. You still hated the memories that burned like fire in your veins. You still hated yourself for being weak, for surviving when your parents hadn't.

But you didn't hate Jay anymore.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, breaking the silence.

Jay looked up, tilting his head in confusion. "For what?"

"For... for how I treated you," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "For assuming things about you just because of where you come from. I thought you wouldn't care. That you couldn't understand. But... you're not like them."

Jay's expression softened, a small, almost sad smile tugging at his lips. "You don't have to apologize for that," he said gently. "You've been through hell. I get why you'd feel that way."

You shook your head, gripping the blanket tightly in your hands. "No, you don't get it. I was cruel to you. I blamed you for things that weren't your fault."

Jay was quiet for a moment, then reached out, resting a hand over yours.

His touch was warm, steady, grounding. "I'm not perfect," he said softly, his tone sincere. "I won't pretend to know what you've been through. But I want to help."

Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill over again. You didn't know how to respond, so you just nodded, gripping his hand. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to trust someone. Even if it was just a little.

"The doctor said you have anemia and osteoporosis," Jay's mother said gently, setting her bag down on the small table beside your hospital bed.

"That's why your bones are weak! You'll need to eat more foods with calcium and iron to build your strength and get your blood count higher. We'll make sure you have everything you need."

You stared at her, unsure how to respond. Guilt curled in your stomach, gnawing at you. You weren't her child. You weren't even close to being part of her world. And yet, here she was, treating you so good.

"The hospital bill is covered," she continued, her voice casual, like it wasn't a big deal. But to you, it was.

It was a huge deal. The cost of staying in a place like this was something you couldn't even fathom. You'd spent years scraping by, eating leftovers just to save a few bucks, and here she was, brushing off what could've been months—maybe years—of your income.

"You don't need to worry about it," she added, her smile soft and reassuring. "Just focus on getting better. Jay's friend is also my priority."

Jay's friend.

The words hit you harder than you expected. You weren't his friend. You didn't deserve to be called that, not after the way you'd treated him.

"Thank you," you murmured finally, your voice barely audible. It was all you could manage without breaking down entirely.

Jay's mom smiled wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she said, reaching out to gently pat your hand. "Now, tell me—what's your favorite food? I'll have the kitchen prepare something special for you."

You blinked, caught off guard by her kindness. "I... I don't really have one," you admitted quietly, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

It wasn't a lie. You hadn't thought about things like "favorite food" in years. Food, for you, had been about survival, not enjoyment.

"Well, then we'll just have to find one for you," she said, her tone cheerful and determined. "I'll have the staff make a variety of dishes for you to try. And don't worry—if there's anything you don't like, we'll keep trying until we find something you love."

Her words left you speechless. All you could do was nod, the weight of her generosity pressing down on you. It felt so foreign, so undeserved, and yet, for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt... cared for.

Jay, who had been quietly peeling an orange in the corner, finally spoke up. "Mom, don't overwhelm her," he said softly, his eyes flicking to yours. "She's still recovering."

You glanced at him, your gaze lingering for a moment longer than you intended.

His mother waved him off with a laugh. "Oh, hush, Jay. I'm just trying to help." She turned back to you, her smile never faltering. "You're part of our family now, okay? At least while you're here. So don't be shy about asking for anything."

Her words made something in your chest tighten. You nodded again, unable to trust your voice.

Jay's mother spent hours at your bedside, chatting away. She told you stories about Jay's childhood—how he once tried to "fix" a birdhouse with peanut butter, or how he dressed up as a firefighter for three Halloweens in a row because he was so obsessed with the uniform.

Jay groaned beside her, his face flushed as he waved her off. "Mom, stop! She doesn't need to know all of that!" he whined, his voice high with embarrassment.

But his mother only laughed, brushing him off with a playful wave. "Oh, hush, Jay. She needs to know how adorable you used to be!"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, your lips curving into a small, almost shy smile.

Eventually, Jay's mother had to leave, something about a business emergency pulling her away. She hugged you gently before she left, squeezing your hands and promising to visit again soon.

"Take care of yourself, sweetheart," she said with a warm smile. "And if Jay gives you any trouble, let me know."

"I'm right here," Jay muttered, rolling his eyes but grinning all the same.

As the door clicked shut behind her, the room fell quiet again. You and Jay were alone, the silence settling between you like a soft blanket.

"Have you showered?" Jay asked suddenly, breaking the stillness.

You shook your head, feeling a little self-conscious. It had been days since you'd had the energy to even think about something like that.

"Do you want to?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded hesitantly.

Jay smiled, standing up to grab a towel from his bag. He returned a moment later, his hand extended to you. "Come on," he said softly, his voice warm and encouraging.

You placed your hand in his, and he guided you carefully out of the bed. But as soon as your feet touched the ground, your knees buckled beneath you, the strength in your legs giving out entirely.

"Whoa!" Jay exclaimed, catching you before you could fall. Without hesitation, he slipped your arm around his neck, his other arm sliding under your legs.

"I've got you," he murmured as he lifted you effortlessly.

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn't protest as he carried you to the bathroom. His touch was steady, his arms warm and reassuring as he placed you gently into the tub.

"Do you want me to call a nurse to help you?" Jay asked, crouching in front of you. His voice was careful, like he was trying not to overstep.

You shook your head quickly. The idea of a stranger cleaning you—seeing you—made your stomach churn with discomfort. "I'm not comfortable," you said quietly, looking away.

Jay nodded, his brows furrowed slightly in thought. He didn't push or suggest anything else. He just waited, watching you carefully.

And then, before you could stop yourself, you looked up and met his gaze. "Can you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay's eyes widened in surprise, his ears turning red as your words sunk in. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone soft but serious. "Are you comfortable with me?"

You nodded, swallowing hard. You didn't know why you asked him. Maybe it was because he was the only one who had seen your broken pieces and didn't turn away. Maybe it was because, despite everything, you trusted him.

Jay hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the redness creeping up his neck.

Your hands trembled slightly as you began to strip off the hospital gown, letting it fall away from your shoulders.

You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, your chest tightening as the scars on your body were laid bare—scars from knives, from bullets, from cigarette burns that had long since healed but never truly faded.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

You finally glanced up at Jay, only to see his face frozen in a mixture of sadness and anger. His jaw clenched, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His eyes weren't looking at you with disgust or pity—just pain. Pain that you couldn't quite understand.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking. You quickly crossed your arms over your chest, trying to cover yourself, to hide the ugly truth of what had been done to you.

"Don't apologize," Jay said softly, his voice strained but firm. He crouched lower, his gaze meeting yours. "You don't have to apologize for this. None of this is your fault."

You bit your lip, tears welling in your eyes as you looked away. "It's ugly," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I'm ugly."

"No, you're not," Jay said immediately. "Don't ever say that. Don't ever think that."

Jay begins to open the faucet, filling the tub. You felt his hand gently rest on your shoulder, his touch so light it was almost like a question. "These scars," he continued, his voice softening, "they're not ugly. They're proof that you survived."

You turned back to him, tears spilling over as his words sank in. His gaze didn't waver, didn't falter. There was no judgment in his eyes, only sincerity.

His hands were gentle as he worked, brushing over your skin with careful precision, the towel soaking up water from your arms, your back, every part of you. Each movement was measured, respectful, almost as though he was afraid of breaking you.

The silence was heavy but not uncomfortable. Still, the question burned on your tongue, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, "Why are you helping me?"

Jay froze for the briefest of moments, his hands stilling as he rinsed the washcloth. Then he gently reached for your hair, lathering shampoo between his fingers before carefully massaging it into your scalp.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked softly, his tone calm, but you could hear the edge of emotion beneath it.

You tilted your head slightly, his fingers never missing a beat as they worked through your tangled hair. 

"Because... people don't just help without a reason," you muttered, your voice barely audible. "Are you pitying me?"

Jay's hands stilled again, his fingers pausing in your hair. For a moment, you regretted asking, but then he sighed softly, his hands resuming their slow, soothing motions.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm not helping you because I pity you."

"Then why?" you pressed, your voice cracking as the question spilled out of you. "Why are you doing all this? Why do you care?"

Jay rinsed the shampoo from your hair, his hands tilting your head back slightly so the water wouldn't get in your eyes. He stayed silent for a moment, as if he was choosing his words carefully.

"Because you deserve to be cared for," he said finally, his voice almost a whisper.

His words hit you like a punch to the chest. You stared at the tiled wall, unable to respond as your throat tightened and your eyes began to sting.

"I'm not doing this out of pity," Jay continued, his voice soft but insistent. "I'm doing this because I want to."

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling. His words felt foreign, like they didn't belong to you. Like they were meant for someone else, someone who deserved kindness.

"But I'm broken," you whispered, the words trembling as they left your lips. "You don't understand. I'm not... I'm not normal."

Jay's hands paused again, and for a moment, you thought he might agree with you. But instead, he leaned forward slightly, his voice so soft it almost didn't reach you.

"Who cares about 'normal'?" he asked gently, smiling at you.

His words made your chest ache, a strange, unfamiliar warmth blooming beneath the pain. You didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. Instead, you let him finish rinsing your hair, his touch as careful as ever.

Jay stayed quiet for a moment, his hand gripping the soap, before his soft voice broke the silence. "Let me brush your body, hmm? Are you okay with that?"

You looked up at him, your eyes still glossy from earlier tears. He was smiling, It was softer, almost hesitant, like he was giving you all the space in the world to say no.

For a second, your chest tightened again. But then you wiped at your tears, nodding, a small, watery laugh slipping from your lips. "Yeah, okay."

Jay let out a breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he dipped the soap into the water, creating a soft lather. "You don't need to apologize," he said after a moment.

But you shook your head, tears spilling over again as the words tumbled out. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "For being a burden. For being weak."

But Jay stopped what he was doing, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "Showing vulnerability isn't weakness," he said softly, his voice steady but warm. "Don't say you're a burden when you're not."

You finally looked at him, your breath hitching at the sincerity in his gaze.

You spent almost a month in the hospital, longer than you ever thought you'd stay. There were stretches of time when you were alone, the quiet pressing against you like a heavy blanket.

Jay still had to attend his classes during the day, and you hated how much that relieved you. Being around him, around his patience and kindness, was almost too much to bear. It made the guilt twist deeper into your chest.

But every night, without fail, Jay came back. He'd shuffle in, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and his face drawn with exhaustion.

No matter how tired he was, he'd sit beside you for a while, asking how your day had been, what you'd eaten, or if you needed anything.

Then, when he couldn't fight the fatigue anymore, he'd curl up on the couch, a thin blanket thrown over him, and fall asleep with his phone still clutched in his hand.

You'd watch him sometimes, your chest tightening at the sight of him.

Jay's mother visited often, breezing into the room with her warm smile and bags full of food. "You need to eat this," she'd say, setting down a steaming dish in front of you. "It'll help your bones."

The next day, it was something new: "This will boost your blood count!" she'd exclaim, watching eagerly as you took hesitant bites.

At first, you forced yourself to eat out of politeness, but slowly, you began to notice things.

You realized you liked gimbap—the way the rice was soft and slightly sweet, the seaweed wrapping it all together. You discovered new juices and found yourself craving strawberry milkshake more than anything else.

Jay's mom always noticed. "Strawberry milkshake, hmm?" she teased one afternoon, her smile playful. "I'll make sure to bring more tomorrow."

The warmth of her attention and care settled uncomfortably in your chest. You didn't know how to handle it, didn't know what to do with the kindness she gave so freely. It was foreign, and it made the guilt inside you grow.

After weeks of lying in bed, your body weak and fragile, the day finally came when you managed to stand on your own two feet. It wasn't easy. Your legs shook, your grip on the metal IV stand so tight your knuckles turned white, but you did it. For a brief moment, you felt a flicker of pride.

But then you looked down at yourself. Your pale, almost sickly skin stretched over your bony frame. Faint bruises marred your knees and legs.

You hated looking at yourself like this—so helpless, so exposed.

Your fingers trembled as you tightened your grip on the IV stand, leaning against it for support. Every movement felt slow and deliberate, like your body was relearning how to move after months of stillness. You shuffled to the calendar pinned on the wall, each step sending a dull ache through your legs, but you pushed through it.

December 13.

You stared at the date, your chest tightening as the weight of it settled on you. Three months. Three months until the Purge.

Your hand instinctively went to your stomach, as if trying to steady the rising wave of anxiety building inside you. You swallowed hard, your throat dry and tight. The memories began creeping in, uninvited, flashing behind your eyes like fragments of a nightmare you could never escape.

You shook your head, closing your eyes to block it out, but it didn't help. The thought was already there, rooting itself firmly in your mind.

You couldn't go back to the same cycle of fear, of waiting for someone to find you, to break you all over again.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to steady your breathing, gripping the IV stand as it was the only thing keeping you upright. You felt caught in between two versions of yourself—the girl who cowered in fear, and the one who had spent months preparing to become something worse.

"You're standing."

The voice startled you, and you turned your head sharply, your grip tightening on the IV stand.

Jay was standing at the doorway, his hand on the handle, staring at you with that familiar wide smile that somehow made the heaviness in the room feel a little lighter.

"My mother said you like strawberry milkshake, so I brought you one," he said, stepping inside and walking toward you, his eyes soft with pride as he glanced at your trembling legs. "Here, let me help."

Before you could say anything, Jay gently took your hand and guided you back to the bed,

"I think I should discharge," you said quietly, the words barely escaping your lips.

Jay blinked, his smile fading slightly. "Why? You're not well yet. Are you thinking about the bills? You shouldn't. I told you, that's already taken care of."

You shook your head, staring at the strawberry milkshake in his hand as he popped the straw into the cup. He handed it to you, the smell of sweet strawberries wafting up and tempting your senses, but you couldn't focus on it.

"The Purge," you said finally, your voice trembling as you gripped the cup tightly, your knuckles turning white. "It's coming again."

Jay froze for a moment, his expression softening as he crouched down in front of you, his eyes level with yours. You could feel his gaze searching your face, waiting for you to continue.

"They... they're coming," you mumbled, your voice breaking. Your chest started to rise and fall rapidly, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. "I don't know what they'll do this time."

Jay reached out instinctively, his hand resting gently on top of yours, steadying the trembling that had begun to spread through your fingers.

"They always find me. No matter where I go. They... they enjoy it. It's a game to them." Jay's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he listened.

"They won't find you this time," he said firmly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "I won't let them."

You stared at him, your chest tightening as you tried to find the words to respond. Instead, you looked down at the strawberry milkshake in your hand, the straw still untouched. Slowly, you brought it to your lips, taking a small sip. The sweet, familiar taste spread across your tongue, and for just a moment.

Jay stayed crouched in front of you, his hand still resting lightly on yours as he watched your expression soften just slightly after taking a sip of the strawberry milkshake.

"Y/N," Jay said after a pause, his voice careful.

You glanced at him, your grip tightening slightly around the cup in your hands. "What is it?"

Jay shifted, sitting back on his heels but keeping his gaze level with yours. "Have you ever thought about talking to someone? You know, a therapist? Someone who might be able to help with... everything you've been through."

Your breath hitched, and you stiffened slightly, your shoulders tensing as the words sank in. "I don't need that," you muttered quickly, looking away from him. "I'm fine."

Jay tilted his head slightly, his expression soft but unconvinced. "I don't think you're fine," he said gently, his tone lacking any hint of judgment. "And that's okay. You don't have to be fine. After what you've been through... no one would expect you to be."

Your chest tightened, your fingers digging into the cup as you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. "I don't want to talk about it," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "Talking won't change anything. It won't make the memories go away."

"I know," Jay said softly. "It won't erase what happened. But maybe it could help you carry it. You've been carrying all of this alone for so long, Y/N. Maybe it's time to let someone else help."

"I can't," you whispered, shaking your head. "I don't know how to... to say it out loud. I don't even know where I'd start."

Jay's hand tightened slightly on yours, grounding you as he leaned closer. "You don't have to start anywhere specific," he said quietly.

"You just have to take it one step at a time. They won't push you to talk about anything you're not ready for. It's not about fixing everything all at once—it's about helping you find a way to live with it."

You looked at him, your vision blurred by unshed tears, and for a moment, you hated how much his words made sense. You hated how right he was, how kind he was being, how much he cared when you weren't sure you deserved it.

"I don't know," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I can do it."

Jay nodded, his eyes warm and understanding. "That's okay," he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring.

"You don't have to decide right now," he continued, his hand lightly squeezing yours. "I just want you to know it's an option. And if you ever want to try, I'll be there with you. I'll help you find someone. You don't have to do it alone."

You stared at him, his words settling in your heart like a soft weight. Slowly, you nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you," you whispered,

January came, and you were finally discharged from the hospital. It felt strange being back in the world after so much time spent in bed, but Jay made it easier.

In the weeks after your release, you returned to your small apartment, but more often than not, you found yourself spending your nights at Jay's home.

His mother insisted, always greeting you with a warm smile and asking how you were feeling. "It's better to keep an eye on you," she'd say, ushering you to the dinner table, where she'd pile your plate with food.

You had stopped studying, deciding to focus on working full-time instead. Jay had suggested a restaurant he knew, and before long, you found yourself settling into a routine. The work was tiring, but it kept your mind busy, and slowly, the spark in your eyes began to return.

Your nightmares didn't disappear, but they became easier to bear with Jay by your side. Whenever you woke up crying, shaking from the images that haunted you, he was always there.

"Shhh, it's okay," he'd whisper, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. His chest was warm and steady against your cheek, and his hand would rub soothing circles on your back as he whispered, "I'm here, love. I've got you."

You didn't know where he got his patience. No matter how many times you woke him in the middle of the night, trembling and crying, he never got frustrated. He never made you feel like a burden.

And maybe that's why, before you even realized it, you fell in love with him.

It wasn't a dramatic realization—no grand moment or spark. It was slow and steady, like the warmth he gave you every day. It was in the way he smiled at you, in the way he stayed even when he didn't have to.

You wanted to be better for him. You wanted to be strong—not just for yourself, but for him, too. That's when you decided to take his advice. You were going to try and talk to a therapist.

One evening, you were lying on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your ear. His hand played idly with your hair, his fingers brushing through the strands like it was second nature. The room was quiet, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the heater, and you felt so at ease it was almost strange.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him. His eyes were closed, his lips relaxed in a small, peaceful smile. Something about the moment felt so natural, so intimate, that it made your heart swell.

Without really thinking, you leaned closer, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. You felt him shift slightly beneath you, but he didn't stop you. The warmth of his skin was comforting, and before you could second-guess yourself, you pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

You felt his body tense under you, his breath hitching ever so slightly. His fingers froze in your hair, and for a moment, you thought you'd made a mistake.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and shaky, like he wasn't sure what to say.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his wide eyes, your cheeks burning. "I—" you started, but the words caught in your throat.

Jay's lips parted, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

You bit your lip, "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His expression softened immediately, his fingers brushing your cheek. "Don't be," he said gently. "Just... tell me. Is this what you want?"

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding again. "Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling.

Jay's hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your lips were just a breath apart. "Me too," he whispered, and then he kissed you.

It was soft, tentative at first, like he was afraid of breaking the moment, but when you kissed him back, his grip on you tightened slightly, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling the back of your head.

Your tongue traced a slow, deliberate line down to his neck, and when you sucked gently at the sensitive skin there, he groaned, low and deep, the sound sending a rush of heat through you.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice shaky as his hands found their way to your waist. You grabbed them, guiding them more firmly against your body as you shifted, straddling his lap.

Jay's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his gaze darkened, his lips parting slightly as you leaned down to kiss him again. This time, the kiss wasn't soft —it was full of need, your lips moving hungrily against his as your hips rolled against him.

You gasped into his mouth, the heat pooling low in your stomach as you felt the tension building between you. Your breath came in heavy pants as you pulled back just enough to whisper, "I love you."

Jay's hands slid under your clothes, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist. His touch was warm.

"I love you," he said back, his voice low and full of something raw, his head tilting back slightly as your movements sent a shiver through him.

You didn't stop. Your hips pressed into him again, a slow, deliberate grind that made him bite back a groan, his head falling back further as his grip on your waist tightened. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale.

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pausing as his eyes met yours again. "Can I?" he asked softly, his voice laced with tenderness.

You nodded, your heart racing as he carefully lifted the shirt over your head. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch of exposed skin, and you felt a familiar pang of self-consciousness.

You instinctively moved to cover yourself, your arms wrapping around your torso, but Jay stopped you gently, his hands warm and steady as they held yours.

"Don't hide," he whispered, his voice so soft it made your chest ache. "Please don't hide from me."

Your breath hitched as his hands released yours, moving slowly to trace the lines of one of the scars on your shoulder. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the scar on your shoulder, the gesture so tender it sent a jolt through your entire body.

 He kissed it again, slower this time, before moving to another scar on your arm, his lips lingering as if to erase the pain it carried.

You couldn't stop the tears that spilled over, your hands trembling as they clutched at his shoulders. "Jay..." you whispered, your voice cracking.

"I see you," he murmured against your skin, his hands steady as they held your waist. "I see all of you, and I love every part of you."

His lips brushed against the scar on your collarbone, then another on your ribs, each kiss more deliberate than the last.

Jay's eyes softened as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, I love you."

The sincerity in his words made your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You didn't know how to respond, your chest tightening with emotions too overwhelming to name. Instead, you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that spoke all the words you couldn't say.

His hands slid up your back, his touch firm yet tender as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together. The kiss deepened, slow and consuming, his lips moving against yours with a passion that sent heat coursing through your veins.

Then, with a flick of his fingers, you felt the clasp of your bra come undone. The cool air brushed against your skin.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple, teasing and flicking it in a way that made your back arch involuntarily. Jay groaned against your mouth, the sound low and deep, sending a wave of desire pooling low in your stomach.

He gently guided you to lay down, his lips never leaving yours until he moved to your jawline, then your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in his wake. 

He stopped at your left breast, his warm breath ghosting over your skin before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently.

The sensation made you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched into him. His tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, sending jolts of pleasure through your body, while his right hand gripped your other breast, kneading it with just the right amount of pressure.

You let your head fall back, lost in the feeling, soft moans spilling from your lips as your body responded to his every touch. His name escaped your lips like a prayer, and he hummed against your skin, the vibrations adding to the heat building within you.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his right hand began to travel lower. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, and you felt his touch move in slow, deliberate circles.

A gasp tore from your throat as his fingers teased you, his touch light but enough to make your hips lift in desperation. "Jay," you breathed, your voice trembling with need, your body aching for more.

"You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice rough and heavy with desire. His lips returned to yours, as his fingers continued their slow, torturous motion, building a fire within you that you couldn't extinguish.

When his finger slowly slid inside you, your breath hitched, your chest pressing into his as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in your body alive with heat as he moved inside you, testing your limits.

Jay's forehead rested against yours, his breath heavy and warm against your lips. "I'm going to add another one, baby," he said, his voice low and filled with lust. "Can you take it?"

You nodded quickly, your hands clutching at him, your voice trembling as you whispered, "I can take it for you."

He groaned at your words, his jaw tightening as he stared at you with darkened eyes. "Fuck, don't say stuff like that," he muttered, his voice almost a growl.

Without wasting another second, he slid a second finger inside you, stretching you in a way that made your back arch. The pace of his movements quickened, the slick sound of his fingers filling the room as your walls clenched around him. The pleasure built fast, sharp and electric, making your breath come out in broken gasps.

Jay leaned down, his lips trailing along your collarbone, then down to your chest again. His mouth latched onto your breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple, adding another layer of sensation that made your head spin.

"Jay," you whimpered, your hips moving on their own, grinding into his hand as his fingers curled inside you, hitting a spot that made stars explode behind your eyes.

"You're so good," he murmured against your skin, his free hand gripping your waist to keep you steady as his mouth moved between your breasts, leaving heated kisses in his wake.

"I'm gonna cum," you whined, your voice high and desperate as the pressure in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter.

Jay didn't let up. His tongue teased your nipple, licking it in slow, deliberate strokes that made you shudder, while his thumb suddenly found your clit, pressing and rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his fingers.

The combination was too much. Your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure crashed over you in waves. "Jay!" you sobbed, your hips lifting off the bed as your orgasm hit, leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

He didn't stop right away, his fingers and thumb slowing just enough to help you ride out the high, his lips never leaving your skin. "That's it," he whispered, his voice full of pride and adoration. "You're so beautiful like this."

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. When his fingers finally slipped out of you, you whimpered softly, feeling the loss of his touch.

Jay kissed your forehead gently, his hands soothing over your sides as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice soft again, filled with affection. "I've got you."

"I was preparing for the Purge this year," you said quietly, staring at your hands instead of your therapist, Ms. Jisoo.

"A self-defense plan, or something more?" she asked gently. There was no judgment in her voice, just calm curiosity.

"Something more," you admitted, biting your lip as your fingers fidgeted in your lap.

Ms. Jisoo nodded softly, giving you space to speak. "Do you still think about it now, after falling in love?"

You paused, her question lingering in your mind. "I don't know," you said after a moment. "I've been so focused on him... on how he makes me feel. The only thing I know for sure is I want to be a better person for him. Not... this."

You hesitated, your voice trembling. "Not some mentally unstable girl who can't even sleep through the night without waking up screaming."

Your chest tightened as the words left you, the guilt clawing at your throat.

Ms. Jisoo leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle and steady. "Wanting to heal for someone you love is a wonderful thing, Y/N. But it's okay to want to heal for yourself too. That doesn't make you weak, and it doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

Her words softened something in your chest, but the guilt was still there, heavy and sharp. You bit your lip harder, tears welling in your eyes.

"D-Do you think I'm a monster?" you asked suddenly, your voice breaking. "For thinking about purging this year? For even wanting it?" You finally looked up at her, tears spilling as you waited for the answer you feared most.

Ms. Jisoo's expression stayed calm, warm, and understanding. "You're not a monster," she said gently, her voice soft as she stares at you.

"You're someone who's been hurt. Someone who's been through things no one should ever have to experience. It's okay to feel angry. It's okay to feel hate. Those feelings don't make you a monster. They make you human."

"But they feel so wrong," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "Wanting it feels wrong."

"They're not wrong or right," she said softly. "They're just feelings."

You sniffled, wiping at your face with trembling hands, but her words didn't fully settle the storm inside you. After a moment, you looked back at her, hesitating before asking the question that had been on your mind for so long.

"Do you... agree with the Purge?"

Ms. Jisoo blinked, caught off guard by the question. She leaned back slightly, her hands folding in her lap as she thought about her answer.

"No," she said after a moment, "I don't. I don't think violence solves anything. And I don't think people should have the right to hurt others, no matter what the law says. The Purge... it brings out the worst in people. It allows fear and hate to fester. And I've seen how much it hurts people—people like you."

Her gaze softened, and she leaned forward slightly, her tone quiet. "But I also understand why you feel the way you do. The Purge forces people to live in fear, to carry anger and pain that they shouldn't have to carry. It's normal to feel conflicted. It's normal to feel angry."

You swallowed hard, her words sinking into you like drops of water on dry ground. "So... I'm not wrong for feeling like this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"No," she said firmly. "You're not wrong. You're human, Y/N. And humans feel messy, complicated things. There's no shame in that."

You nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what to do with myself. I keep thinking and thinking about what I should do to live freely... but nothing feels right."

Ms. Jisoo smiled gently, her expression steady and reassuring. "It's okay to feel lost, Y/N. Healing doesn't come with a map or a timeline. But you're taking steps forward, even if they're small. Just keep going. You'll find your way."

By the middle of February, your days had settled into a rhythm. You managed your job at the restaurant, worked through your therapy sessions every week, and spent most of your free time with Jay and his mother.

Their home felt warm, almost like a haven, and you found yourself doing small things to show your gratitude—buying Jay his favorite snacks, surprising his mom with flowers or something she'd mentioned in passing.

They never expected anything in return for their kindness, but doing those little things made you feel like you were giving back in some small way.

One evening, the restaurant was hosting a group of high-class businesspeople who had reserved the entire dining area. The room buzzed with laughter and chatter, the expensive suits and gleaming jewelry making you feel out of place as you carried trays of food to their table.

As you placed the dishes on the table, your eyes drifted to a middle-aged blonde woman sitting at the center. Her hair was perfectly styled, her tailored suit fitting her like it had been made just for her. She held a glass of wine delicately, twirling it in her hand as she laughed with the others.

Your breath hitched.

A memory slammed into you with the force of a freight train.

Gunshots. Screams. Blood splattered across the ground. You could see the flash of a machete. Hear the sound of a head rolling across the dirt. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your throat tightening as the room spun around you. The scar on your arm felt like it was burning.

"Excuse me?" a man's voice pulled you back to reality, his tone polite but firm. "Do you need anything else?"

You blinked, your breath still shaky as you tried to steady yourself. The blonde woman's laughter had faded, and now she was looking at you, her piercing eyes sharp and almost bored, like she was trying to place where she'd seen you before.

You struggled to keep your hands from trembling as you clutched the tray tighter. "I-I'm fine," you stammered, inhaling deeply to keep your composure.

But it didn't help when one of the other women at the table—a brunette with diamond earrings—reached for your arm, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the long scar that ran down the length of it.

"God," the woman said, her voice dripping with disgust. "What a nasty scar you have." Her fingers brushed the raised tissue, making you flinch involuntarily. "How'd you even get this?"

You froze, the room seeming to go quiet as her words echoed in your ears. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think. You wanted to rip your arm away, but your body felt paralyzed, like you were trapped in that night all over again.

And then, you heard yourself asking, "Are you Ms. Wilson?"

The words felt foreign on your tongue, your voice shaky as you stared at the blonde woman.

She raised an eyebrow at you, her expression amused. "Yes, why?" she asked, taking another sip of her wine. "Do I know you?"

You almost laughed. Of course, she didn't remember. People like her never did.

Your grip on the tray tightened, your knuckles white as your mind raced. You remembered her now—her face, her voice, the way she had smiled behind the mask as she watched you and the others run for your lives.

And she didn't even remember you.

"No," you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. "You don't."

Her head tilted slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing as if she were trying to place you, but after a moment, she simply shrugged and turned back to her companions, already dismissing you from her mind.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your nails digging into the tray as you tried to contain the rage bubbling up inside you.

You turned on your heel, your legs trembling with each step as you left the dining area. The walls of the restaurant seemed to close in, the air thick and suffocating. 

Your breaths came in short, shallow gasps as you pushed through the kitchen doors, your tray clattering loudly onto the counter.

Gripping the edge of the counter, your knuckles turned white as you stared down at the cold, stainless steel surface. You willed yourself to calm down, to pull it together, but your heart was racing, your chest heaving as the memories refused to let you go.

You muttered something about not feeling well to your manager, barely hearing his reply as you left the restaurant. 

You didn't go to Jay's home like you usually did. Instead, you walked to your own apartment, your feet moving automatically, your head swirling with thoughts you couldn't control.

When you finally closed the door behind you, something inside you broke. You let out a scream, raw and primal, nails digging into your throat as if you could claw the pain away. Tears streamed down your face, hot and endless, blurring your vision as sob after sob wracked your body.

You stumbled to the target board you had set up on the wall—the one you used for practice, for preparation—and grabbed a knife. With a sharp, angry cry, you hurled it at the board. It hit the target right in the head.

You screamed again, louder this time, grabbing anything within reach and throwing it across the room. A glass shattered against the wall. A stack of books tumbled to the floor. You didn't care.

When you finally collapsed onto your bed, your body was trembling, your chest heaving as you cried into the pillow. The tears wouldn't stop, your sobs loud and broken as you curled into yourself, trying to escape the weight pressing down on you.

At some point, exhaustion took over, and you fell asleep, your face damp with tears.

You jolted awake when the bed shifted beneath you. Your heart leapt into your throat, your body tensing instinctively, but then you saw him—Jay, sitting beside you, his worried eyes scanning your face.

"You didn't come home," he said softly, his voice full of concern. 

"I was worried. Your manager said you took an early leave." He reached for your hand, holding it gently as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. "Did something happen?"

His voice was so calm, so steady, and it only made your tears resurface. You watched him lift your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your fingertips. The tenderness in his actions broke you all over again.

Your eyes watered, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as you cried. Your sobs were muffled against the fabric of his shirt, but he didn't say anything—he just held you, his arms wrapping around you tightly, protectively.

"It will never go away," you choked out between sobs, your voice muffled against his chest. "I don't know how to heal when this Purge still fucking exists."

Jay tightened his hold on you, his hand moving to the back of your head as he gently stroked your hair. 

"I'm so sorry," you cried, your voice breaking. "For always being like this."

"Shh," he murmured softly, pulling you into his lap. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "You don't have to apologize, love. Don't ever apologize for how you feel."

You buried your face in his shoulder, shaking your head. The words of comfort should've helped, but all they did was amplify the storm inside you.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Jay asked, his voice low and patient.

You shook your head, gripping him tighter. You couldn't bring yourself to say it. Not now. Not yet.

He didn't push. He just held you, his hand running up and down your back as you cried into him.

And then, as the room grew quieter, your emotions spilled into something else. The ache in your chest shifted, giving way to a deeper, more desperate need—the need to feel alive, to feel connected, to escape the weight of your mind, even if only for a moment.

Your lips found his, and he kissed you back without hesitation, his hands tightening around your waist. The kiss was slow at first, gentle, but soon it grew hungry, fueled by the raw emotion lingering in the air.

It wasn't long before your knees dug into the mattress, your body arching beneath him as he moved inside you. The pain and weight of your emotions blurred into the pleasure of his touch, every thrust sending a wave of heat through your body.

"A-ah! Fuck, slow down!" you gasped as he hit a spot inside you that made your toes curl.

"Felt so good," Jay groaned, his breath hot against your ear as his body pressed flush against yours. His lips found the nape of your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses as his fingers kneaded your breasts, sending sparks of sensation through you.

You threw your head back, your arms giving out beneath you as he pressed deeper. "Jay," you whimpered, his name tumbling from your lips as your body trembled with every movement.

"Love you," he groaned, his voice rough with desperation. "Fuck, a-ah, I'm gonna cum."

"Inside me, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper, but he heard you.

Jay's body fell against yours as he pushed deeper, his breath hitching as his release overtook him. The feeling of him filling you pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you so intensely that tears pricked your eyes.

Your cries of overstimulation mixed with his groans, his hips moving in small, desperate thrusts as he fill inside you. Finally, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.

His lips pressed soft kisses along your forehead and temple, his hand trailing to your stomach, where his fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice so full of sincerity that it made your chest ache.

You turned your head, catching his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. He kissed you back, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

"Spend the Purge at our house," he said after a moment, his forehead resting against yours. "You'll be safe there. I'll protect you. I promise."

His words should have comforted you. They should have been enough. But as you stared into his eyes, full of love and hope, you felt your chest tighten.

Because no matter what Jay did to protect you, no matter how much healing you tried to find, there was one truth you couldn't ignore.

No matter how hard you fought it, no matter how much you loved him, you're still broken, and lost.

March 21, 3:00 PM

You wiped the tables methodically, trying to focus on the task, but the air in the restaurant was tense. All eyes were glued to the TV mounted on the wall, where the announcement of the Annual Purge was being broadcast. The monotone voice of the announcer echoed through the room, describing the rules and restrictions for the night.

Your manager came up to you, his voice urgent. "Hey, take an early leave. Go home and get ready. You shouldn't be out when the sirens start."

You nodded, offering him a faint smile. "Thanks, I'll head out soon."

After finishing up and helping close the restaurant, you walked back to your apartment. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the streets. As you set up a small barricade in your apartment—nothing fancy, just furniture pressed against the windows and doors—you heard a car honk outside.

Peeking out, you saw Jay leaning casually against his car, waiting for you with that familiar warm smile.

You felt a wave of comfort wash over you at the sight of him. Smiling back, you hurried outside, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Let's go home?" he asked, his voice calm and full of care.

You hesitated, glancing back at your apartment. "I need to grab a few things first," you said.

Jay nodded easily. "Of course. Take your time."

After changing out of your work uniform, you slipped into a white off-shoulder dress that reached your knees—something simple yet elegant. You'd never worn it before, and even the soft fabric against your skin felt foreign. Paired with Mary Jane shoes and a pair of cute white socks.

When you stepped into Jay's car, he looked up at you, his eyes widening slightly. "Wow," he murmured, his gaze softening. "You look beautiful."

You felt your cheeks warm as he leaned in, holding your jaw gently and pecking your lips. "What's with the outfit today?" he teased, laughing lightly.

You smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I just thought... maybe I'd wear something different. Something nice."

Jay laughed again, his hand reaching out toward your thigh, but you subtly redirected it, placing it over yours instead. He didn't seem to mind, intertwining his fingers with yours as his other hand rested on the steering wheel.

March 21, 4:30 PM

The house was buzzing with noise by the time you arrived. From the top of the stairs, you peeked down and saw six boys piling in through the entrance, bags slung over their shoulders as they greeted Jay's mother.

"Oh, it's Jay's friends!" his mother exclaimed warmly, hugging them one by one.

You recognized Ni-ki and Sunoo, the only ones you'd met before. The rest were strangers to you, their confident voices filling the house as they exchanged jokes and pleasantries.

"Hi, Mrs. Park! I hope you don't mind if we spend the Purge here at your house!" said a tall man with an easy smile.

"No problem, Heesung," Jay's mother replied, her voice full of affection. "What about your parents and sisters?"

"They're at a party," another boy replied casually. "Some politician's mansion. They love that kind of thing."

Your breath hitched, the words hitting a nerve.

What a nice life to be rich, you thought bitterly.

"Hey," Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him standing beside you, his brow furrowed slightly. "Are you okay?"

You forced a smile, one you'd perfected over the years. "Yeah, I'm fine. Your friends are downstairs."

Jay studied you for a moment longer, but then he smiled, intertwining his hand with yours as he led you down the stairs.

The boys were loud and full of energy, laughing and teasing each other as they set their bags down and unpacked their things. Jay's mother fussed over them, offering snacks and asking about their families.

"This is Y/N, my girlfriend," Jay announced proudly, pulling you close by your waist.

The room fell quiet for a brief moment, and you could feel their gazes on you.

"Oh my God, you're a thing now?" Jay's mother gasped, her hands clasped over her mouth.

"Isn't it obvious?" Jay replied with a laugh.

One of the boys stepped forward, introducing himself. "Hi, Y/N! I'm Heesung. This is Jake, Sunghoon, and Jungwon. I guess you already know Ni-ki and Sunoo."

You offered a polite smile, nodding as they all greeted you.

As the evening went on, you stayed mostly quiet, helping Jay's mother prepare food while the boys joked around. Jay noticed your silence, slipping his arms around your waist from behind as you worked in the kitchen.

"Hey," he murmured against your ear. "You're safe, okay? You don't need to worry."

You turned to look at him, your heart heavy with emotions you couldn't express. "I love you," you said softly, staring into his eyes.

Jay smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. "I love you more," he replied, glancing at his watch. "It's already 6:30. I need to barricade the house."

You nodded, watching as he started to walk away. Then, impulsively, you called out, "Jay."

He turned back, his eyes soft. "Hmm?"

Walking up to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. His hands found your face, gently brushing his thumb across your cheek as he looked at you with worry. "Are you anxious, baby?" he asked softly.

"No," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I just wanted to say I love you again."

Jay let out a soft laugh, leaning down to kiss you. "Love, I'm just barricading the house, not purging." He kissed your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering for a moment. "Now, let me lock everything down so we'll be safe, okay?"

You nodded, stepping back reluctantly as he disappeared toward the storage room.

Jay walked through the dim hallway leading to the storage room when he heard footsteps behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Sunghoon catching up to him, a casual smirk on his face as he slung an arm around Jay's shoulder.

"Yo, bro," Sunghoon said casually, falling into step beside him. "No offense but, you sure about that girl?"

Jay frowned, shrugging off Sunghoon's arm. "Why? What are you talking about?"

Sunghoon shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "She just... seems like a lot. I mean, no offense, but she looks like she's difficult to handle."

Jay's brows furrowed deeper, his steps slowing as he turned to face Sunghoon. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Look, we care about you," Sunghoon said, raising his hands as if to calm him. "Have you seen her scars? Her face? She's clearly been through some shit. Is she even healed from all that?"

Jay's jaw tightened, his teeth clenching as anger flared in his chest. He stepped closer to Sunghoon, his voice low and dangerous. "Watch your mouth."

"Chill, man, I'm just saying." Sunghoon grabbed Jay's arm in an attempt to reason with him. "That girl's got baggage, and I'm telling you, she's going to be a lot of problems for you. She's not stable, bro. You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

Jay didn't let him finish. His hand shot out, grabbing Sunghoon by the collar and shoving him back against the wall. "Say another word, and I swear I'll make you regret it," he growled, his voice dripping with rage.

Sunghoon's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't back down. "I'm trying to look out for you, Jay," he said, his tone firm. "You're my friend. I don't want you getting hurt."

Jay released him with a sharp shove, his chest heaving as he tried to control his temper. "Don't ever talk about her like that again," he said coldly, his eyes burning with anger. "You don't know a damn thing about her."

He turned on his heel, ignoring Sunghoon as he walked into the storage room. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed the button to activate the lockdown. The sound of metal walls sliding into place filled the air, sealing the house and cutting off the world outside.

"Jay, listen to me," Sunghoon said, his voice following him into the room. "I'm serious. There's something off about her. Just think about it, man."

Jay didn't respond. He slammed the door shut behind him, shutting Sunghoon out both literally and figuratively.

Returning to the living room, Jay found the rest of his friends lounging on the couches, laughing and exchanging stories. His mother was tidying up nearby, a small smile on her face as she listened to their chatter.

"Where's Y/N?" Jay asked, his eyes scanning the room.

"I think she went to your room," Ni-ki said, glancing up from his phone. "She said she wanted to sleep early."

Jay nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. But before he could take another step, Sunghoon appeared at his side again.

"Man, I'm trying to talk to you," Sunghoon said, his voice laced with frustration.

Jay's patience snapped. Without thinking, he turned and landed a punch squarely on Sunghoon's jaw, sending him stumbling backward.

The room fell silent as the others jumped to their feet.

"Jay! What the hell are you doing?!" Jake shouted, stepping between them.

"I'm just trying to give him advice about his girlfriend!" Sunghoon snapped, holding his jaw as he glared at Jay.

"Are you seriously saying that fucking nonsense while my girlfriend is in this house?!" he shouted. "How dare you even say that shit in front of me?!"

Sunghoon raised his hands in defense, but Jay wasn't done. He stepped closer, pointing a finger at him. "You've known her for, what, an hour? And you think you have the right to judge her? To judge us? Fuck you, Sunghoon!"

"Jay, calm down," Heesung said cautiously, stepping between the two of them with his hands outstretched, but Jay wasn't having it.

"You don't get to judge her just because of what you think you see!" Jay growled, his voice trembling with anger. He shoved Heesung and Jake off as they tried to hold him back.

"Get the fuck off me!" he barked, storming out of the living room. His footsteps pounded against the floor as he made his way up the stairs, leaving everyone behind in stunned silence.

Jay climbed the stairs two at a time, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. He pulled out his phone, swiping through his notifications until he found a message from Dr. Jisoo that he had missed earlier.

Dr. Jisoo: Good afternoon, Mr. Park. I just wanted to check in on Y/N since she's missed her last three sessions. Please keep an eye on her, especially today—it's a particularly triggering event for her. Thank you.

Jay felt a wave of dread wash over him, his heart sinking into his stomach. He quickened his pace, practically sprinting to his bedroom.

"Y/N?" he called, pushing the door open.

But the room was empty.

Panic set in as he checked the bathroom, the closet, all of the room, even under the bed, but you were nowhere to be found.

He bolted back down the stairs, his voice frantic as he called out for you. "Y/N?! Where are you?!"

His mother stepped into the hallway, her face pale with worry. "What's wrong, Jay?"

"She's gone," he said, his voice shaking. "Did anyone see her leave?!"

Everyone in the living room exchanged confused looks, shrugging helplessly.

"Y/N?!" Jay shouted again, his voice echoing through the house.

Jay froze as the broadcast echoed through the house, the robotic voice chilling him to the bone.

"This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S Government.

Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning, until 7 a.m., when the Purge concludes.

Blessed by our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all."

The final words echoed in his ears as the sirens blared, signaling the start of the Purge.

His heart pounded, his chest tight as he pieced everything together. The missed therapy sessions, how quiet you had been all day, the way you hugged him like it might be the last time.

You weren't in the house.

You were out there.

Jay turned on his heel and sprinted to the storage room, his mind racing as panic surged through him.

He yanked open his closet, grabbing the bag he had packed weeks ago—just in case. Inside were the essentials: a shotgun, a pistol, extra ammunition, and a knife. He tossed the bag over his shoulder, his hands trembling as he loaded the pistol, cocking it with precision.

"Jay, what are you doing?!" his mother cried, standing at the door with tears streaming down her face.

"Unlock the barricade and lock it again after I leave," he said coldly, his voice devoid of the warmth she was used to.

"Jay, you can't! It's dangerous out there!" she pleaded, stepping closer.

"Unlock it!" he snapped, his voice sharp, though his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. "Please, Mom. I have to go."

"No," Sunghoon interrupted, stepping forward and grabbing Jay's arm. "You're not thinking straight. She left, Jay. She chose to go out there—"

Jay swatted his hand away, pointing the pistol directly at Sunghoon's head. The room went silent.

"Jay!" Heesung shouted, stepping forward.

"Come any closer, and I'll blow his fucking head off," Jay growled, his jaw tightening as his finger hovered near the trigger. "You don't get to stop me. None of you do."

Sunghoon raised his hands slowly, his expression shifting to one of caution. "Alright, man. Just... relax, okay? I'm just trying to—"

"Shut up," Jay hissed, the tension in his body radiating outward. His voice lowered, trembling slightly. "I told you to stay out of this. She's out there, and I'm going to find her."

He turned his gaze to Ni-ki, who was frozen near the security console. "Ni-ki," Jay said firmly. "Unlock the barricade. Now."

Ni-ki hesitated, looking at Jungwon and Jake for guidance, but neither said anything. With a shaky hand, Ni-ki pressed the button, and the sound of the metal walls lifting reverberated through the house.

"Jay, please," his mother sobbed, grabbing his arm as he stepped toward the door.

Jay paused, his resolve faltering for just a moment as he looked at her. "I'm sorry," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "But I can't stay here knowing she's out there."

Tears streamed down her face as she nodded, her voice trembling. "I understand, be safe. Please."

"I will," Jay said, stepping out the door. "Lock it the second I'm gone."

The metal walls began to descend behind him as he walked to his car, his mind racing with questions. Where could you have gone? Why didn't you tell him? Were you safe? Were you scared?

Sliding into the driver's seat, he tossed the bag into the passenger side and gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. His eyes scanned the darkened streets, the occasional scream or gunshot in the distance reminding him of the stakes.

Without hesitation, he pressed the gas pedal.

You walk slowly down an unfamiliar road, your steps unsteady. You just keep walking and walking, unsure of where you're going or why. You don't understand yourself anymore. You thought everything was finally okay. What more could you ask for?

You have a loving boyfriend who always tries to make you smile. His mother cares for you like her own. You eat three meals a day. You're seeing a therapist. And you even have a safe place to hide on Purge Night.

So why do you feel like this?

Why do you feel so broken when you should feel whole?

Why are you out here, in the middle of the street, on the most dangerous night of the year, with just a knife strapped under your dress?

You wonder if Jay has noticed you're gone. He probably has by now. Your chest tightens at the thought of him pacing back and forth, calling your name.

Your lifeless eyes stare ahead as you walk deeper into the quiet street. It's so still, unnaturally still. No trucks rumbling down the road. No gangs or masked figures in sight.

"Kill me already!" you scream into the emptiness. Your voice echoes down the road, but there's no answer. Not a single sniper or purger takes the bait.

Then, a distant cry catches your ear—a plea for help. You turn toward the sound and walk toward it, your grip tightening on the handle of the knife hidden beneath your dress.

As you approach, you see a young girl sprinting toward you, clutching her bleeding waist. Four people in masks are chasing her, laughing like it's some sick game.

"Man, we just want to purge!" one of them—a woman—cackles. That laugh—it burrows into your memory like a needle.

The girl stumbles, and when her eyes meet yours, there's desperation written all over them. She collapses at your feet, her blood soaking through your white dress as she clings to you.

"Please... help me," she gasps.

Her words are cut off by a gunshot. Blood splatters across your face as a hole appears in her forehead. Her body falls limp, her grip on your dress loosening.

"My fucking soul feels cleansed!" the woman says with a twisted laugh. The others laugh with her, like a pack of hyenas.

"Up next—" the woman starts, raising her pistol toward you.

But you're faster.

In one fluid motion, you pull out your knife and hurl it at her. It pierces through her mask and into her skull. She drops instantly, blood dripping from the blade.

The remaining three hesitate, stunned. That's all the time you need. You yank the knife from the dead woman's head and dash toward the others, slicing the nearest one's throat in a clean arc.

The man in the joker mask fumbles for his gun, but you grab the dead body beside you, using it as a shield. Then, you throw the knife again, this time hitting his chest.

He stumbles back, gasping for air, as you snatch his gun from his weakening grip. Before he can even hit the ground, you fire a shot straight into his skull.

Now, there's only one left.

The last purger, wearing a cat mask, drops to his knees and pulls the mask off, revealing a trembling man. He raises his hands in surrender, tears streaming down his face.

"P-please... spare me. I-I just wanted to purge this year," he stammers, his voice cracking.

You glare at him, the weight of your actions and emotions swirling inside you.

"How many innocent people have you killed in all the purges you've been a part of?" you ask, your tone icy.

His lip quivers. "P-probably 70—"

Before he can finish, you pull the trigger.

The gunshot echoes through the street as he collapses, lifeless.

Silence fills the street once more as you stand there, your white dress soaked in blood, surrounded by bodies. You don't know how long you've been standing there, staring at the carnage.

Then, it happens.

A soft laugh escapes your lips. It bubbles up from your throat, quiet at first, but it grows louder, sharper, until it echoes down the empty street. It's not a happy laugh. It's hollow, bitter, unhinged.

You bring a hand to your face, your fingers brushing against the blood splattered across your skin.

You really have lost yourself, haven't you? Or, did you found it now?

You hate the Purge. You hate the monsters it creates. You hate the people who thrive on it, the ones who laugh, who kill, who hurt.

So why are you here, in the middle of the night, doing the exact same thing?

Tears prick at your eyes, but they don't fall. You just stand there, your shoulders trembling as the weight of everything presses down on you. You feel nothing. And that terrifies you most of all.

You crouch down, wiping your knife on the dead woman's clothes, smearing blood across the fabric.

Your hands tremble slightly, it's not fear—it's something else. A quiet storm you can't name.

Once the blade gleams clean, you tuck it back into the thigh strap beneath your dress. Grabbing the fallen gun, you check the chamber and reload it. The satisfying click of the cocked weapon echoes as you straighten up and continue walking.

The street stretches ahead, eerily quiet except for the distant sounds of chaos—gunshots, screams, and the occasional rumble of an engine.

Three figures suddenly sprint toward you from the shadows. They glance at you, wide-eyed, as they pass by, their faces pale with fear.

Ahead of you, three figures suddenly appear from the shadows. Their faces are pale with fear as they sprint past you. One of them—a panicked old man—stumbles and grabs your arm, his grip shaky.

"Miss, don't go that way!" he says, his voice hoarse and desperate. "That group's rounding people up—they're psychos!"

His words barely register. Your gaze drifts past him, toward the direction he came from. A cold calm washes over you as he keeps tugging at your arm, pleading.

A large truck screeches to a halt in front of you, its headlights blinding. The old man panics, letting go of your arm and bolting down the road. He doesn't get far. A sharp crack rings out, and he collapses mid-stride, a bullet tearing through his back.

You don't flinch.

The truck door swings open, and several masked figures step out.

One of them grabs your arm, yanking it behind your back as another snatches the gun from your hand.

"Blessed be the New Founding Fathers of America," one of them says, leaning close to your face.

You smile. Not a kind smile—a bitter one. "Blessed be them," you whisper back.

Then, without warning, you jerk your head forward, slamming it into the man's nose. He stumbles back with a grunt of pain, clutching his face as blood pours through his fingers.

Before the others can react, you twist your arm free and yank your knife from its strap. The blade flashes in the dim light as you slice upward, catching one of them in the throat. They gargle and drop to their knees, clutching at the wound.

Another lunges at you, swinging a metal pipe. You duck under the blow, driving the knife into his ribs. He gasps, his body jolting as you twist the blade, blood spraying onto your dress.

You scream—whether it's from rage or something deeper, you're not sure.

The sound rips from your throat as you yank the knife free and stab again, and again, and again, until his body goes limp.

Behind you, the first man—the one whose nose you broke—recovers quickly. He raises his gun, aiming it directly at your back.

You're too focused, too lost in the heat of the moment to notice him.

The loud crack of gunfire fills the air, but it doesn't come from his weapon.

The man's body jerks violently as a burst of bullets tears through him, and he collapses to the ground, lifeless.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you spin around.

Your wide eyes locking onto the figure standing behind him.

"Jay," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He steps forward slowly, his shotgun still in hand. His expression is unreadable, his eyes flicking over the bodies surrounding you before settling on you.

You brace yourself for the anger you expect to see in his face. For him to yell at you, demand answers, maybe even tell you he's done with you.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he stops in front of you, his gaze softening as he raises a hand to your face. His thumb brushes gently across your cheek, wiping away the streaks of blood smeared there.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice full of worry. "Are you hurt?"

You can't speak. Your lips tremble as tears blur your vision. Slowly, your hand rises to hold his against your cheek.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry for not noticing sooner that you weren't okay. I should've known."

His words hit you like a punch to the chest, and you shake your head, your tears spilling over. "W-what are you doing here?" you manage to say, your voice shaking. "It's dangerous."

Jay smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I could say the same thing to you, love," he murmurs, pulling you into a warm, protective embrace.

His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you like he's afraid to let go. You bury your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"I can't let my girl be out here alone on Purge Night," he whispers into your hair.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him, your smile shaky and uncertain. "Y-you're not angry?"

Jay shakes his head slowly, his warm hand cupping your face as if to anchor you. "No, baby. I'm not angry," he says softly.

Your lips tremble, the guilt clawing its way up your throat as you look into his eyes. "I... I'm a monster, Jay. Look at what I did," you whisper, your voice cracking.

His thumb gently strokes your cheek, his gaze never leaving yours. There's no judgment there, no fear—just a quiet understanding that makes your chest ache.

"I don't think I'm normal anymore, Jay," you say, your voice barely audible as tears spill freely down your face. "I don't even know what I'm feeling right now. I don't know who I am anymore."

You start to sob, the raw emotion pouring out of you like a dam breaking. Jay leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck to hold you steady.

"I love you," he whispers into the space between you. "No matter what. No matter what you've done, no matter what you want to do... I love you."

His words hit you like a wave, and your sobs come harder, your body trembling in his arms.

"You always ask if you're normal," he continues, his tone soothing as he brushes a stray tear from your cheek. "But I already told you, love. Who cares about normal? Normal doesn't matter to me. You matter to me."

His arms wrap around you tighter, pulling you against his chest.

"If this is what you need to do to heal, then I'll be here," he whispers into your ear. "And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn't say this to me. I'll always understand, love. Always. Just... don't do this again without me knowing, okay?"

You nod against his chest, your sobs muffling into his shirt.

"I'm such a—" you try to speak, but the words get caught in your throat, your cries making it impossible to finish the sentence.

Jay shushes you softly, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. "You're not. You're not anything bad, baby. You're just... hurting."

You pull back slightly, your hands clutching his shirt as you look up at him, your voice trembling. "I hate it, Jay. I hate what I've become. I'm not me anymore. It terrifies me."

His hand moves to cradle the back of your head, and he presses a soft kiss to your hair. "I know," he whispers. "But I'll be here. I'll be with you through every terrifying moment, love."

For a long moment, the two of you just stay like that—his arms holding you close, your head resting against his chest as your breathing slowly evens out. The tension in your body begins to ease, though the storm in your mind still churns.

Jay pulls back slightly, tilting his head to meet your gaze, his smile growing softer but never losing its warmth.

"Are you enjoying yourself right now?" he asks, his voice light and genuine, almost teasing.

You blink at him, surprised by the question, but the answer bubbles up inside you before you can stop it. A faint smile begins to form on your lips, something that feels both wrong and inexplicably right.

"Yes," you admit quietly, your voice steadier than before. "I think I am."

Jay's smile widens just a little, his thumb brushing against your cheek again as if to ground you.

"That's all that matters," he says softly, his voice filled with a calm acceptance that makes the tension in your chest ease.

Then, his eyes flicker toward the carnage surrounding you—the lifeless bodies, the blood that stains the street, and your hands, still trembling but steady enough to hold the knife.

"What do you want to do? Hmm?" he asks, his tone curious yet understanding, as if ready to follow wherever your answer leads.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the gun in your hands and the heat of the night pressing against your skin. Your lips curve into a determined smile, and your answer comes without hesitation.

"I want to kill purgers," you say, your voice clear and sharp, your eyes shining with a fire that you hadn't felt in years.

Jay doesn't flinch or waver at your words. Instead, he nods, stepping closer to you and holding out his shotgun. "Here," he says, his voice calm as he hands it over.

You take it, your hands steady now, and your eyes glint as you examine the weapon.

"Is this a SPAS-12?" you ask, running your fingers along the smooth barrel.

Jay chuckles softly, watching the way your gaze flickers with excitement.

"Yeah. My dad gave it to me," he replies as he takes your free hand in his.

"Come on," he says, tugging you gently toward his car. "Let's get out of here. It's dangerous to stay in one spot too long."

You follow him, practically bouncing on your heels as you intertwine your fingers with his. As the two of you approach the car, a question bubbles up, one you hadn't thought to ask before.

"Where's your dad, anyway? I've never met him," you say, glancing at him as he unlocks the driver's side door.

Jay shrugs lightly, opening the door for you.

"He's overseas," he explains as you climb in. "He's been busy. A lot of countries are starting to plan their own versions of the Purge, and he's consulting on security systems for them."

"Wow," you mutter, settling into the passenger seat as Jay slides in beside you.

He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life as he glances over at you. "You ready?"

"Is this car bulletproof?" you ask, running your hand along the interior with a raised eyebrow.

Jay smirks, shrugging. "I don't think so, but who needs bulletproof when we've got each other?"

You giggle, the sound light and unexpected, even to yourself.

As he presses the gas pedal hard, the car lurches forward, and the thrill of speed courses through you.

The windows are down, and the cool night air rushes past you as you cock the shotgun, the familiar click of the weapon sending a chill down your spine.

You lean halfway out the window, scanning the streets for purgers, your eyes narrowing when you spot a group down the road.

"Hey, fuckers!" you shout, your voice carrying across the night.

Jay glances over at you, his grin widening as he watches you. "Careful with my car, love," he teases, though there's nothing but pride in his tone.

You don't respond, too focused on your target. Raising the shotgun, you take aim and fire. The blast rings out, and one of the masked figures crumples to the ground.

Jay chuckles, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drifts the car in a sharp circle, giving you a clear view of the rest of the group.

You take the opportunity, cocking the shotgun again and pulling the trigger, your laughter bubbling up as another purger falls.

Jay's eyes are on you the whole time.

There's a softness in his gaze, even amid the violence. A quiet love that seems to radiate from him as he smiles, the chaos of the night fading away for him.

There's just you, him, and the shared thrill of the hunt.

March 22, 4:00 AM

The two of you stand on the rooftop of an abandoned building, the city stretched out before you in ruins. Fires burn in the distance, their orange glow painting the night in an eerie light. Screams and gunshots echo faintly through the air, but up here, it almost feels quiet.

Jay's arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you against him as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"When I first saw you, I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen," he says softly, his voice low in your ear.

You snort, your lips twitching into a faint smile. "I smelled like shit, Jay. I looked like skin and bones. Where's the 'pretty' in that?" you ask, a chuckle escaping you.

Jay presses his lips to your neck, his voice a murmur against your skin. "You were pretty then. You're pretty now. You've always been pretty."

"You should hate me," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant crackling of fires below. "For leaving. For running away."

Jay's grip tightened, his hands pulling you closer as his forehead pressed against the back of your head. "I could never hate you," he murmured. "Not when I know what you've been carrying."

You opened your mouth to argue, to push back

"I don't deserve you," you admitted, your voice cracking as the weight of the night caught up with you.

Jay let out a soft laugh, the sound warm and reassuring. "You don't get to decide that," he said, his tone teasing but full of affection. "That's my call, and I'm not going anywhere.

You tilt your head slightly, giving him more access, your breath hitching as he kisses the sensitive spot just below your ear. His lips linger, soft and warm, before his tongue flicks against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

A quiet moan escapes you as he nips at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he soothes the bite with a kiss. "Jay..."

His hands begin to roam, one sliding up to cup your breast, squeezing gently, while the other dips beneath your dress. His fingers brush over the fabric of your panties, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves there.

"You're really doing this?" you sigh, half-laughing even as your body arches into his touch.  "In the middle of the purge?"

Jay chuckles softly, his lips still pressed against your neck. "We're standing on a rooftop, watching the world burn," he murmurs. "Seems like the perfect time to me."

His fingers move with more purpose now, slipping past the fabric of your panties and brushing against your wet folds. You gasp, your body trembling against him as he slides one finger inside you, curling it just enough to make you bite down on your lip.

"You know," Jay whispers, his voice low and rough as his free hand kneads your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. "I'm not normal either."

You barely manage to form a response, your mind clouded by the pleasure building inside you. "W-what do you mean?"

Jay bites gently at your neck again, his lips curling into a grin. "Watching you out there... gunning down those purgers... smearing blood all over that cute little dress..." He groans, his hips pressing into you so you can feel just how hard he is. 

"Fuck, it turns me on so much. You looked so beautiful. So fucking dangerous."

His confession sends a jolt of heat straight through you, and your legs almost buckle as he slides another finger inside you, his pace increasing. His other hand slips beneath the neckline of your dress, tugging it down just enough to expose your chest as he palms your bare skin.

"Jay..." you gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder as his fingers work you over, pushing deeper and curling just right.

"You're so perfect like this," he whispers, his voice breathy and filled with adoration as he watches your face twist with pleasure. 

"The way your body moves, the way you moan for me... I'll never get enough of you."

His thumb brushes over your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. You grip his arms, your nails digging into his skin as your body starts to shake.

"F-fuck, Jay," you cry out, your voice muffled as he kisses your temple.

"That's it, baby," he encourages. "Let go for me. Let me see you lose yourself."

You're barely holding on, your body trembling as he picks up the pace, his fingers sliding in and out of you relentlessly. 

The pressure inside you builds and builds until it snaps, a wave of heat and pleasure crashing over you as your orgasm takes hold.

You cry out, your hips bucking against his hand as you ride out the high, your walls clenching around his fingers. Jay doesn't stop, his movements gentle now as he works you through it, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder.

When the aftershocks finally subside, you collapse back against him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath. Jay wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close as he presses a kiss to your temple.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice soft and sincere.  "Now, let me eat."

Before you can respond, he gently turns you, guiding your back to the cool metal railing. His hands are steady on your waist

"Park Jongseong!"

He crouched, his teeth hooking the edge of your panties and dragging them down, baring you inch by inch. The fabric pooled at your knees before his face dove between your thighs, his tongue parting you

He worked his way up to your clit, licking slow, teasing circles that made your knees threaten to buckle.

His grip tightened on your waist, firm hands pulling you closer, urging your hips to rock against his face.

Your right leg lifted, hooking over his shoulder for balance, your fingers threading into his hair to anchor yourself. You tugged, hard, grinding yourself against him. His groan reverberated through you, the vibrations sending shockwaves straight to your core.

"Jongseong!" you sobbed, your voice breaking as the intensity overwhelmed you. Your grip on his hair tightened, your body trembling.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and desperate. 

Before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, pushing you down. You hit the rough ground with a muted thud, your palms scraping against the coarse surface.

You barely had time to process the sensation before his hands were on your hips, lifting you up.

"Need to be inside you, baby."

You heard him groan softly, the sound of him stroking himself before he pressed against your entrance.

The stretch as he slid inside you was slow, deliberate, every inch a sensation that left you gasping. You clenched around him instinctively, earning a hiss from him as he threw his head back, savoring the feeling.

"Faster," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. Your hands scrambled to reach his, gripping the one on your waist.

"My baby wants more?" he laughed, a dark, almost mocking edge to his tone.

Before you could answer, he gathered your wrists in one hand, pulling them behind your back and holding them there. His pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

You screamed, your voice raw, your body pliant in his grasp.

He didn't stop, didn't relent, even as your cries turned to desperate whines. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body trembling violently. But just as you were about to fall over, his movements faltered.

"No!" you cried out, shaking in his hold, trying to move, to chase the release that hovered just out of reach. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pressing you down firmly.

"Don't move," Jay ordered, his voice low and commanding. "I'm still enjoying the view."

You sobbed, your body trembling, your desperation mounting. "Please! I'll be good, I swear, please!"

He growled low in his throat, his hips slamming forward again, harder, rougher, making you cry out.

Gunshots echoed faintly in the background, but they felt distant, irrelevant. All that mattered was the man above you, his hands pinning you down, his movements relentless.

Your mouth fell open as you felt him twitch inside you, his pace faltering before he suddenly flipped you onto your back. Your legs went limp, draped over his shoulders as he sank into you again, his face hovering inches from yours.

Your focus locked on him, the way his brows knit together, the way his jaw clenched, the way his sweat-dampened hair clung to his forehead. He was beautiful in his rawness, primal and consuming.

"I wanna cum," you whimpered, your hand reaching for your clit, desperate for release, but he slapped it away with a sharp look.

"Hold it, love," he commanded, his breath ragged. He leaned down, his mouth latching onto your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he bit down, hard.

You screamed, tears streaming down your face as your body writhed beneath him.

"Can't hold it anymore," you sobbed, shaking your head, your pleas growing more desperate.

"Just a little longer," he whispered, his voice a strained plea of his own. His thumb found your clit, pressing down in firm, maddening circles, even as his hips drove into you faster, harder.

The moment came like a tidal wave, crashing through you with a force that left you breathless, your body spasming around him.

"A-ah fuck!" you screamed, your voice breaking.

His rhythm faltered as you tightened around him, pulling him over the edge with you. He buried himself deep, his groan low and guttural as he came, filling you completely.

"Jay, can't!" you whimpered, your body oversensitive, trembling as he continued to move, chasing the last echoes of his high.

"Fuck, I love you," he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion

Finally, he stilled, collapsing beside you. His arm looped around your waist, pulling you close.

"You're not falling asleep on me, are you?" he teased, his voice soft.

"Tired," you mumbled, pouting with your eyes half-closed.

"What happened to killing purgers all night?" he asked, his tone light, teasing.

You cracked one eye open to glare at him. "It's morning," you grumbled.

Jay chuckled, his fingers gently smoothing down your dress as best as he could. His eyes lingered on you, softening as you murmured sleepily against his ear.

"I wanna kill Ms. Wilson next year," you whispered, your voice faint.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smile. He kissed your forehead softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Anything for you, love."

You hummed in response, your body melting further into his hold. "I hate how the Purge is so right," you mumbled, your words fading into the quiet dawn. "It really did cleanse my soul."

March 22, 6:45 AM

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a pale golden glow over the city. The streets were eerily still, a grim quiet settling over the aftermath of the Purge.

Jay carried you carefully to his car, his movements slow and deliberate as he set you down in the passenger seat. For a moment, he lingered, crouching beside you. His hand brushed a stray strand of hair from your cheek, his fingers ghosting over your peaceful expression.

You had found yourself, hadn’t you? Maybe not in the way most people would expect, but in a way that felt undeniably true to you.

Your eyelashes fluttered, your eyes opening just enough to glance at him groggily. "What time is it?"

"6:45," Jay replied softly, his voice low. "The Purge is almost over."

You nodded weakly, your head tilting back against the seat as your eyes drifted closed again. But before sleep could take you, they snapped open once more, and you turned your head to him.

"Why? What’s wrong?" Jay asked, his voice laced with gentle concern.

You smiled sweetly, your lips curving in a way that made his heart skip.

"Kiss me."

His lips twitched into a chuckle, but he leaned down without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours. 

"I love you," you whispered as your eyes closed again, this time surrendering completely to sleep.

"I love you too," Jay echoed, his voice just above a whisper. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he straightened up, gripping the steering wheel as he started the car.

The streets stretched out before him, empty and silent now, save for the faint echoes of distant sirens. The Purge had ended.

Jay chuckled softly to himself, glancing over at your sleeping form in the passenger seat. You looked so peaceful now, your lips slightly parted, your head resting against the window. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, the two of you had been surrounded by blood.

"Next year, huh?" he murmured under his breath, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Jay definitely needed to watch his back next year.

But with you by his side, what could any purger do?

There was no telling what the two of you were capable of.

taglist: @fancypeacepersona, @tunafishyfishylike

[belovedhoon]

Crying rn

wifed up! p.js

nsfw content. this is so indulgent i can’t even defend myself lol 9-5 hubby ji i adore him so much

9-5 husband! jisung doesn’t know how to tie his own ties, so every morning it becomes routine for him to wait for you to tie his tie for him before he leaves, his hands resting lightly on your hip, his heart racing a little ‘cause jisung still feels the flustered just by being close to you, his cheeks dusted with a little pink at the way you’re biting your lip trying to get his tie knot perfect, and pink fades into a red when your fingers wrap around his tie, tugging him down for a kiss before he leaves for work. one kiss, two kisses, three and he’s about to be running late!

9-5 husband! jisung whose coworkers tease him for the way his lunch has fruits cut into hearts and a pink sticky note with an ‘ily!’ stuck to the container every day, making him blush because he feels like he’s falling in love all over again, feeling so shy, like… how did he land such a cute wife ? (jisung never shares his lunch. like ever. that’s for him, from his wife!) he keeps all of your little notes, folding them into origami stars in a jar at his desk. he literally leaves meetings, ‘bathroom’ excuse just to answer texts from you, missing him as much as he misses you.

9-5 husband! jisung’s habit of playing with his wedding band whenever he’s thinking, in meetings, at his desk, any time his hands are free, he’s twisting and fidgeting with the golden ring on his left hand without a second thought about it, unconsciously comforting to him. his friends laughing at him a little because jisung’s absent minded tendencies become wife daydreams, playing with his wedding ring for a hot second before he’s blinking back into the conversation, flustered because they’re teasing him about how obviously in loveee he is,,, like, the moment someone talks to him too long he’s pulling the ‘i’m married,’ ring and all. and they don’t even have to be flirting with him.

9-5 husband! jisung who’s all over you, his wifey, the moment he comes home, wandering into the kitchen immediately, back hugs and his chin resting on your shoulder, wanting kisses so badly, he’s inseparably clingy. who can blame him, he was at work all day. without you! the kind of kisses where he’s leaning down ‘cause he’s too tall, your arms wrapped around his neck and time slows down, he’s so down bad there’s no comparison. his fingers loosening his tie and pushing up his sleeves, wanting to hear everything about your day as jisung gives you starry eyes, barely paying attention to the vegetables he’s washing. or at least, supposed to be washing, if his entire attention wasn’t already taken.

9-5 husband! jisung’s a perv, caught with your panties and his hand in his sweats… no wonder he always offers to do the laundry. so so so in love when you’re equally as clingy to him,, but he gets boners so quick and often ‘cause everything you do turns him on, he’s so fucked whenever you’re wearing nothing but his shirts… the only difference is that now he’s your husband, can have you whenever,, kitchen counters and couches, the wall of the hallway, laundry room and in the shower !

9-5 husband! jisung who ignores work calls and tosses his phone somewhere else ‘cause he’s busy— on his knees, so pussy drunk he can’t think, face buried between your thighs, a couple of buttons undone on his dress shirt and slacks feeling too tight,, hand holding is so important to him, his fingers laced through yours and god are his hands big in comparison,, pretty lips smeared with your arousal and if it wasn’t for you begging for his cock, he’d probably eat you out for hours, anything for his wifey.

husband! jisung with his soft, deep voice always praising you, even if he does all the work, just so obsessed he worships you so much, so insanely lovesick, can’t have sex unless he’s pressed up to every inch of you, big hand on the little bulge he makes in your tummy, has to feel how deep he is! (his size kink). aftercare is all cuddles, because he’d have to pull out otherwise, it’s kind of romantic to him to wanna be inside you, when you’re all full of his cum. wants you to mark him up, make it so obvious he’s taken, lying on top of him and kissing hickeys all over his skin, his collarbones, his neck, his chest, everywhere. sleepy mumbling about how badly he misses you when he’s at work, working only so he can make sure you’re taken care of, have everything you want and more. playing with the ring on your hand now that you’re here instead of his. can’t sleep until you fall asleep first, lulled by his quiet love songs he only sings for you.

husband! jisung gifts a star for you every anniversary, knowing one day there will be so many stars scattered across the universe, you’ll always be able to see one when you look at the night sky together. across so many galaxies, each and every one will have a star he’s given you because he loves you to the ends of the infinite universe.

i want him so bad. please

[belovedhoon]

Movie Star

fandom: nct dream paring: jaemin x f! reader wc: 1.4k genre: smut

A/N: second installment here we goooo! As always, I hope you guys enjoy! <3

Link to 500 follower special fics masterlist here

synopsis: you and jaemin star in a different kind of movie…

“I wanna play with you

You wanna play with me?”

You were nervous, you were so nervous. It’s not like you hadn’t done this type of thing before, however, this was a completely different setting…a much more professional setting… You looked over at your husband, Jaemin and he looked as carefree as ever, as if this was totally normal and had no fear whatsoever. That’s just how Jaemin was, though, never afraid to try something new. You wish you could say the same for yourself. Jaemin and you are no strangers to sharing intimate moments with strangers online, but you two always filmed in the privacy of your own home…now both of you would be filmed by a professional crew in a set and not in your own spacious bedroom. As your mind was racing with nerves wracking your body, the producer came up to where you and Jaemin were being styled and brought you out of your thoughts.

“You guys ready to do this?” The producer, who goes by Haechan, said as he approached you. You looked up at him, and Jaemin cooed at how you looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“We’re ready, my wife here is a little nervous, however,” Jaemin responded truthfully to Haechan. Haechan nodded in understanding before responding.

“I completely understand, this is a whole different setting than filming in the comfort of your home, but we’ll take care of you, and we can take as many breaks as needed for your comfort, Mrs. Y/N,” Haechan said to you gently. You swallowed thickly before nodding slowly in agreement. The makeup artist finished your makeup shortly after you put on your outfit (if you could call it that). You were wearing a cheerleading outfit, which really was just a teeny tiny skirt and small cropped jersey that said “CHEER” on it. You and Jaemin were to play cheerleader and quarterback for this shoot, which in your opinion was stupidly cliche, but hey, you didn’t come up with it, you were just there to play the role and get paid.

A few moments later, you were on a set that resembled a locker room. As you were taking in your surroundings, your husband Jaemin came up behind you and hugged you from behind and you could feel that he was already semi-hard, and you chuckled when you felt him press up against you.

“You’re already that hard, Jaem?” You asked, laughing softly. He just chuckled darkly before responding.

“I mean, look at you in that tight little skirt…I can’t wait to get my hands on you, or in you rather…” Jaemin said cheekily. You just turned to him slightly with your eyebrow raised before you swatted his hands away when he dropped them to your plump ass and squeezed roughly whilst biting his lip. “You just look so sexy baby…” Jaemin groaned out. You gasped at his tone and turned fully around to him. You looked up into his eyes, and he leaned down, kissing you passionately, causing you to let out a soft moan.

“Alright guys, I love the passion, but let’s save it for the film!” Haechan joked, startling you two as you were caught up in each other. You two pulled away from each other, a blush on your face at the fact that you got caught up in the moment. You two got in place getting ready to start filming. And then Haechan called, “Take one, start!”

“Jaemin, what if we get caught? We’ll be in so much trouble!” You said in character as you looked up at him nervously. Jaemin just smiled and then laughed.

“Then I guess you have to be quiet then, huh, precious?” Jaemin said and then pushed you gently up against the cold locker. You gasped at the feeling of the cool locker on your exposed skin. You nodded slowly and looked up into his pretty sparkling brown eyes. Jaemin leaned down and kissed you gently at first and then bit your bottom lip harshly, causing you to gasp, which he then took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. You two made out for a while before Jaemin brought one hand towards your breast and then slipped his hand under your small shirt and grasped your breast, which was bare from wearing nothing under the shirt. He took your nipple between his pointer and thumb fingers and began to massage and pinch your nipple to get a reaction out of you. Spoiler alert, it did, you whimpered out at the feeling of Jaemin playing with your tits.

As Jaemin was tweaking your nipple between his fingers, you dragged your hand slowly down his chest, scratching slightly, causing him to groan out at the feeling. You then brought your hand down to the waistband of his pants before slipping your hand inside to grasp his cock noting that he did not have anything on under his pants and you began to stroke him slowly. Jaemin moans at the feeling of your soft hand on his hardened flesh. Jaemin pulled away from the kiss to glance down at your hand working on his cock from inside his pants and panted at the sight.

“Yeah baby, just like that..” Jaemin groaned out. You moaned at how wrecked he sounded. Jaemin brought his hands to your little skirt and slipped his fingers in them from underneath and began to play with your clit causing you to whine out. “Shh baby…don’t want the whole football team to hear you being a little whore for me do you?” Jaemin said to you in a deep tone. You just groaned at the thought.

“Jaem.. I need your cock…” You whined out again. Jaemin looked up at you with a smirk on his face at your needy tone, but eventually complied. Jaemin pulled his pants down enough so that his cock was freed and so that his pants weren’t in the way. He grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up smoothly, with your back pressed up against the locker and your legs wrapped around his waist. Jaemin slipped your small shorts that were attached to the skirt to the side and brought his thick tip to tease at your folds. He ran his tip between them from your entrance to your clit before back down to your entrance before pushing in slowly. Jaemin slowly pushed inside you before pausing when he bottomed out to give you time to adjust. You wiggled your hips, and he took that as a cue to start thrusting, and thrusting he did. From the beginning, he kept up a punishing pace, which caused you to cry out, not even being able to think about trying to stay quiet.

Jaemin kept up his rough pace and you were a moaning mess, Jaemin wasn’t doing much better letting out groans of pleasure everytime he felt you clench around his throbbing cock. You could feel your high fastly approaching and warned him by whining out that you were about to cum. Jaemin took that as a signal to bring his hand down to your clit to rub harsh circles on your clit to bring you over the edge. This in turn caused you to reach your orgasm, clenching tightly around Jaemin’s cock, your jucies soaking his hard member. This caused Jaemin’s pace to stutter before he eventually came as well, coating your walls white with his thick release. Jaemin pulled out and a camera quickly zoomed in to where Jaemin’s cum was leaking out of you in steady streams.

“And scene over!” You heard Haechan shout out, causing you to remember where you were. Jaemin placed you down gently and grabbed the rag from the assistant, and started to wipe you down gently.

“You guys did awesome! You two are naturals!” Haechan praised both of you graciously. You just smiled tiredly and leaned into Jaemin’s chest as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you to him.

“Alright, let’s call it a day! We can work on more scenes tomorrow! You two did great! Get some good rest! You’re gonna need it tomorrow!” Haechan said, walking away from the two of you. You looked up at Jaemin and he kissed your forehead, helping you up so that you two could leave to go to your hotel to rest. Maybe this kind of thing wasn’t so bad after all.

[belovedhoon]

Check out my anime blog! (: it’s a wip but I’ll be posting on there soon!! <3

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[belovedhoon]

im gonna go feral

Sanie poplive

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[belovedhoon]

a book in memory

fandom: enhypen pairing: sunghoon x f!reader wc: 1.1k genre: angst synopsis: the hardest thing you ever had to do was watch sunghoon marry someone that’s not you, if only he knew that the stories you wrote were about him.

A/N: Hiii!! Here is the first installment of my 500 follower special fics!! I hope you enjoy! ((:

Link to 500 follower special fics masterlist here

“If I tell you all of me is you, what would you say?

A book in memory

I couldn’t let go of your hand in the end

I wonder if you know that all of these stories are about you

Last night, oh goodbye”

‘You are cordially invited to celebrate the love of Park Sunghoon and Julie Han in a beautiful wedding ceremony…RSVP below…’ You could feel your heart break with every word you read from the beautiful piece of paper. You knew it was coming, yet you didn’t think it would hit this hard when you actually got the invitation. You don’t know how you’re supposed to sit through a wedding where the love of your life is marrying someone who isn’t you. It’s not like you aren't happy Sunghoon found someone he loves, you’re over the moon he found someone he deemed worthy to share his love with, and Julie is the sweetest person you have ever met…they’re perfect for each other in your opinion. It isn’t their fault that you’re so madly in love with your best friend Sunghoon…in their defense, they don’t even know. Even if they did know it wouldn’t change a thing, it shouldn’t change a thing. With that said, it doesn’t hurt any less than the moment you found out about Sunghoon’s engagement. You were the first one he came to, you were the one who helped pick out Julie’s engagement ring for crying out loud. Plus you really did like Julie, she was so sweet and caring and you could tell how much they both loved each other. Maybe in another lifetime you and Sunghoon could have been together but that’s not the case here. For now, you will continue to write about the love you wish you could have shared with Sunghoon through your books. No one has to know that the characters you portray in your stories are about you and Sunghoon in another life.

You were dreading today, you’ve been dreading this day for months. Today was the day you lost Sunghoon forever. Maybe you were being a little dramatic…but were you really? It’s not like Sunghoon was leaving or anything but he was getting married today and things would never be the same. So you got ready with a heavy heart, trying so hard to hold back the emotions for what was to come. 

“Y/N! Your newest book was so beautifully written…I really enjoy the way you portrayed Blossom’s seemingly unrequited love for Jae…and the ending where Blossom finally told Jae how she felt and he felt the same way melted my heart!” Sunoo gushed to you as you were sitting beside him close to the aisle as you waited for the wedding to begin. You smiled politely, the smile not quite reaching your eyes as you did so. Sunoo being oblivious to this fact. You thanked him as you noticed Sunghoon walking towards where you and Sunoo sat. As you lay eyes on Sunghoon, you couldn’t help but subtly gasp at how handsome he looked. He was always handsome in your eyes but today he just looked so exceptionally handsome, he took your breath away. 

“Y/N! You made it! I’m so glad you’re here…” Sunghoon said gratefully to you. You just laughed softly before shaking your head playfully. 

“Why wouldn’t I be here? I’d never miss my best friend’s wedding!” You said, cheerily, the words ‘best friend’ tasting bitter in your mouth. You looked up at him and could tell he seemed nervous. I mean why wouldn’t he? He’s getting married very soon. 

“I know! But still, it means a lot that you’re here for me today Y/N. How do I look? Do I look the part?” Sunghoon let out, joking at the end, but you could tell he was genuinely asking out of nervousness. You got up from your seat and placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down a bit. 

“You look as handsome as ever Hoon, Julie is a lucky woman.” You said to him, your heart clenching at how true your words were. You straightened his tie and told him everything would be perfect. He smiled one last time and walked away after hugging you and went to stand at the front of the aisle where he would stand waiting for his new wife. You watched him for a bit as he stood there twiddling with his hands as he often did when he was nervous and just smiled sadly. If only things could be different. 

It was about 15 minutes later when everyone at the wedding was seated and awaiting Julie to walk down the aisle, and with every second passing by you could feel nerves wracking your body, to the point you felt almost sick. Just as you finally calmed your body enough to where you didn’t feel as if you were going to throw up, you heard the music start up indicating that Julie was about to walk down the aisle. And just like that the sick feeling came back. Finally, you caught sight of Julie in her beautiful dress and you couldn’t help but be in awe of how gorgeous she looked. She looked like an angel walking down the aisle and in that moment you could see part of the reason Sunghoon wanted to marry her. Julie looked just as nervous as Sunghoon had earlier. It made you feel guilty that you felt sick to your stomach at the fact that they were about to be married. You watched as Sunghoon’s eyes lit up at the sight of his future wife dressed so beautifully. You watched as Julie so gracefully walked down the aisle with her father perched so proudly on her arm. The whole time you guilty wished that you were in her position, or that this whole wedding was a horrible nightmare gone wrong, but you know that’s just wishful thinking. 

As Julie got to the end of the aisle, her father handed her over to Sunghoon and thus began the worst day of your life. The words that were exchanged were such a blur to you that you can’t even remember what was said. You looked around with tears in your eyes and noticed that Sunghoon also had tears in his eyes but for a reason so devastatingly different than you. As the minister said the words “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” You wanted so badly to speak out, to stop this nightmare from happening to you, but you couldn’t do that…Not to Julie…Not to Sunghoon who so badly deserved this. So you kept quiet and wept under the pretense that the wedding was just so moving and beautiful. And it was, the wedding was very moving and emotional, it’s just that you just lost the love of your life and it’s okay to feel devastated by that fact. You just felt so guilty in doing so, but it’s okay…you’ll get over it eventually, right? You have to! There’s no choice in the matter! Sunghoon is married now and there is nothing you can do about it. But for now, you’ll just write your books about how you and Sunghoon could be together in another life and that’s good enough for you…right? If only you could tell Sunghoon these books are about him. But right now you have to say goodbye…

[belovedhoon]

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⠀⠀belovedhoon's 500 follower special masterlist

Hey guys! First of all I wanna say THANK YOU for 500 followers! With that being said, here is my 500 follower special fics! So each fic will be based off a song I like! There will be 2 fluff fics, 2 smut(MDNI) fics and 2 angst fics! I hope you guys enjoy <3

Below is each fic and their description!

Spell

fandom: ateez pairing: yeosang x f!reader wc: tbd genre: smut (MDNI) synopsis: y/n and her group of friends are on vacation in Jeju, and she can’t help but be under Yeosang’s spell the whole time…even if he is her brother Wooyoung’s best friend…

“Your subtle move

My sensitive heart

A dance blooming in a green forest

You read my mind and I read your mind

We read each other’s motion

Let it loose”

Movie Star READ

fandom: nct dream pairing: jaemin x f!reader wc: tbd genre: smut (MDNI) synopsis: you and jaemin star in a different kind of movie…

“I wanna play with you

You wanna play with me?”

i hate to admit

fandom: &team pairing: nicholas x f!reader wc: tbd genre: angst synopsis: how can you forget the day nicholas broke his promise?

“How could I forget

The day you lied to me”

A book in a Memory READ

fandom: enhypen pairing: sunghoon x f!reader wc: 1.1k genre: angst synopsis: the hardest thing you ever had to do was watch sunghoon marry someone that’s not you, if only he knew that the stories you wrote were about him.

“If I tell you all of me is you, what would you say?

A book in memory

I couldn’t let go of your hand in the end

I wonder if you know that all of these stories are about you

Last night, oh goodbye”

Over The Moon

fandom: riize pairing: sungchan x f!reader wc: tbd genre: fluff synopsis: nothing is better than waking up in your new husband sungchan’s arms..

“Over the moon, over the stars I'm in heaven when you're in my arms”

Puzzle Piece READ

fandom: tomorrow x together pairing: huening kai x f! reader wc: 1.3k genre: fluff synopsis: kai healed your heart in ways you never thought possible, the two of you have always fit together like puzzle pieces, always connected.

“You’re my missing puzzle piece

Finally I solved it

You filled every piece of my heart

Even the scarred part of it to the fullest

And somehow, you’ve become my everything

My missing puzzle piece”