cloud-lyy - Tumblr blog

cloud-lyy · 12 days ago

Text

GOSH, MY HEART IS SO FULL 🥹 THIS MADE ME WANT SOMEONE LIKE SUNGHOON SO BAD. RAISED MY STANDARD. THANK YOU, THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL 🥹🥹💗💕💞

My first and last ✩°. ˚

⭑.ᐟ Soon to be Dad!Lawer!Sunghoon and Mom!Gyno!Y/N You thought you had time, time to settle into your new job, time to enjoy being in love with Sunghoon again. Getting pregnant was definitely not part of your plan.As you navigate the emotional whirlwind of being pregnant for the first time, Sunghoon proves again and again that he loves you and your little one more than you could have ever wished for.Liking lemons might be the worst thing about the whole situation.

ᝰ genre. fluff, loads and loads of fluff cause that's what they deserve and them being just in love with each other, suggestive .ᐟ₊ ⊹

ᝰ warnings. pregnancy and all it's ups and downs, mentions of vomit, pregnancy & childbirth, hormonal mood swings, a few steamier scenes, body changes and insecurities .ᐟ₊ ⊹

ᝰ wordcount. 19.3 k .ᐟ₊ ⊹

--⟢ PART 1 (THIS CAN BE READ SEPARATELY FROM PT ONE) my masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

You woke up late today.

Sunghoon was already gone when you made your way into the bathroom, your slippers dragging over the floor. You squinted against the harsh light coming from the overhead lighting as you entered the room. Sunghoon and you stayed up a bit later than usual yesterday, celebrating your first anniversary with a fancy dinner and a few glasses of wine. The spicy food and alcohol weren’t a good combination for your stomach. They never really were, but usually your stomach wasn’t as upset as it was right now.

You felt a bit nauseous when you reached for your toothbrush to start getting ready. You had to be in the clinic in less than thirty minutes, so you had to hurry up a bit. The feeling and taste of the toothbrush in your mouth made you suppress a gag, and you had to stop after a minute of brushing, ignoring that it hasn’t been three minutes yet. Leaving against the counter, you took a deep breath before moving on. It felt like you were heavily hungover, but two glasses of wine weren’t even enough to make you more than tipsy.

You ignored the feeling and sped through your morning routine, stopping in front of the fridge to get yourself a toast. The strong smell of the homemade kimchi that Sunghoon’s mom brought over a few days ago made you close the door almost immediately. Maybe you’ve caught yourself a stomach bug somewhere. You sighed and just grabbed a banana from the small fruit basket on the counter, shoving it into your bag before turning to the front door to put on your shoes.

The clinic you were working at was just a ten-minute walk from your and Sunghoon's apartment, so you were gladly enjoying the fresh autumn air, hoping it would help get rid of the nauseous feeling in your throat.

“Y/N, you look awful.” Songhee, the front desk worker at the clinic, looked at you with a worried face. She was a few years older than you and a literal angel. Somehow, whenever you needed anything, she already had it ready, she never rushed you and could deal with any kind of client, no matter how rude or impatient.

“Mhm. Thank you, Unnie. Good morning to you, too,” you said, grimacing at her when you passed her. With a soft click you opened the door to your office, stepped inside, hung up your jacket, and walked back towards the reception. ”I’m feeling a bit off today. I don’t know, my stomach is acting up”, you shrugged and leaned against her counter.

“Did you and Sunghoon drink too much yesterday?” she asked, her neatly plucked eyebrows scrunched together with worry.

“Not really. I had two glasses of wine and koddulgi. Maybe that was too spicy? Or the mixture? I have no clue. Is Doctor Lee here already? I had a question about my 9:30 appointment. Maybe she could have a quick look over the lab results.”

“Yeah, she is in her office. Do you want some ibuprofen? Or maybe vomex? I have plenty back in the med cabinet,” Songhee already moved towards the back of the room before you could stop her.

“No, it’s fine,” you shook your head and smiled at her, “If it gets worse, I’ll come back to that offer though.”

────────────────────────

A few days later, you woke up before Sunghoon did. One of his arms was resting above his head, and the other one was wrapped around your waist. You were lying on your side, your face squished into his chest. You were hot. Your face felt like it was glowing, and your pyjama was sticking against your back. Great. Jay apparently really spread his stomach bug over to you.

You groaned and carefully peeled yourself from Sunghoon's side. He huffed in his sleep but didn’t give any signs that he woke up. You leaned forward and softly brushed a strand of hair out of his face. It has gotten quite long recently, but you loved it. He looked so incredibly handsome and soft with it.

When you moved out of the bed and stood up, you almost immediately fell back onto the soft mattress. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, and your stomach tightened up a bit. Sunghoon made a noise behind you. “Y/N?”

“Yeah. I’m going to the toilet,” you said, standing up slower this time, “Go back to sleep, Sunghoon. I’ll be back in a second.”

He mumbled something incomprehensible and curled to the side. You chuckled and made your way to the kitchen to get something to drink. Maybe some water would help against feeling as hot as you were right now.

The second you opened the fridge, the smell its inside made you almost gag. You still had a bit of the kimchi that was bothering you for a few days now in there.

You held your breath and reached for a bottle of water before closing the fridge again. The cold liquid did helpcooling you down a bit. With a huff, you let yourself drop down onto the sofa in your living room, spreading your arms and feet apart to create as little warmth as possible. You apparently fell asleep in this position, because the next time you opened your eyes again, Sunghoon was kneeling in front of you, his hair messy from sleep and his white shirt wrinkled.

“Hi, love”, he reached forward to gently brush over your cheek, “Are you feeling all right? You didn’t come back to bed.”

“Mhm. I think the Park family finally got me. I’m warm and my stomach is upset.”, you mumbled and nuzzled into the palm of his hand.

“You’re not feeling very warm. Do you need anything?”, he asked softly, watching you intently. “Or do you have medication here? I am sure you have something against nausea in that gigantic medicine cabinet of yours, mhm?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just mop around here on the sofa all day and eat some plain rice later. I think if I eat anything now, I’ll throw it up again.” You grabbed for his wrist when he made instances of pulling his hand away. “No stay.”, you whined.

He laughed lowly and resumed letting his fingers drift over your cheek, “I’ll go brush my teeth and wash my face, and I’ll be right with you, moping on the sofa.”

You pouted but nodded, letting his arm go. He chuckled and stood up. “I’ll be back in a second.”

You didn’t notice him coming back, already having fallen back asleep again.

────────────────────────

You were breathing through your mouth, actively trying to block your nose from smelling anything. Since last week, every smell was somehow overwhelming, making your stomach feel queasy. You were in the small kitchen of your clinic together with your boss, taking a short coffee break inbetween patients. Well, she was drinking a coffee, and you had made yourself a herbal tea, hoping it would help you get rid of the feeling in your stomach. Working with a mask mask wasn’t really helping your case either. The air felt sticky and tasted iffy.

“You’re still not looking all too well, Y/N.”, your boss, an incredibly nice lady in her mid-fifties, said, while stirring her coffee.

You hummed. “Yeah, my stomach is still upset. I think I had stomach flu last week.”

“Are you sure it’s stomach flu? It’s been quite a while now, usually those don’t really hold up this long”, she asked and set her mug down onto the marbled kitchen counter. “You’ve said that you can’t really handle any harsh smells at the moment, right? Your face lost all of its colour when Hyerim got out her kimchi fried rice yesterday. Usually, you love kimchi.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, resting your head against one of the cabinets, closing your eyes for a second. “I have no idea what’s going on there. I just hope it’s over soon.”

“Would you like me to check if you’re pregnant?”, Doctor Lee asked casually, as if she were asking you how the weather was going to be tomorrow.

“What?”, you asked, shaking your head in confusion.

“It sounds like you’re experiencing morning sickness, dear.”, the older lady tutted. “You’re a gynechologist, you work with pregnant women daily. Has the possibility of a pregnancy not crossed your mind? You’re sexually active with your boyfriend, aren’t you?”

You blushed furiously. Discussing your sex life with your boss was not something you expected to do today. “I–well–yeah? But we’ve been really careful, and I am on the pill. Like you said, I am a gynechologist. I am aware of the importance of safe and protected sex. And I think I would know if I was pregnant.”

“I am sure you are. I am just asking to be sure. We can check, and if it's nothing, you should really go to the hospital to get it checked out.”, she nodded, taking a sip from her coffee.

You stared at her, eyes wide. “There’s no chance I’m pregnant.”

Doctor Lee smiled that annoyingly calm smile of hers. “Humour me, Y/N.”

You pressed your lips together, mentally reviewing the last few weeks. You couldn’t think of a single time when you and Sunghoon weren’t careful. You were taking your pill on time, using condoms most of the time in addition to that. “Fine,” you muttered. Checking couldn’t hurt, eventhough you were sure it was a waste of time and material.

“Great,” she said cheerfully, already pushing herself off the counter. “Let’s go check.”

You followed her down the hallway to one of the exam rooms, trying not to feel weird about being the patient in your own clinic. Lying down on the exam table, you pushed your t-shirt up a bit and unbuttoned your pants.

Doctor Lee hummed as she put the cold gel of the ultrasound on your stomach, ignoring the hiss you made at the sensation.

Her eyes were focused on the screen, and she adjusted the angle slightly.

You glanced at the screen.

And froze.

There, clear as day, was a tiny blob in the centre of the black space, pulsing slowly.

Your jaw dropped.

“What the fu–” you started, eyes wide.

Doctor Lee let out a breath, almost laughing. “–ck,” she finished for you, eyes still on the screen.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to swear.” You looked at her, then back at the screen, completely stunned. “That’s–?”

“That’s a gestational sac,” she confirmed, her voice warm, gentle. “Congratulations, Y/N.”

You just stared. “But I’m on the pill.”

“You work in OB-GYN, you know that’s not foolproof,” she said, smiling.

You let your head fall back onto the paper-lined table with a soft thud. “Oh my god.”

“Roughly five weeks, I’d say,” she said softly.

You blinked at the screen. Then at her. “What the hell.”

She gave you a kind smile, wiping the gel from your stomach. “I believe the medical term is ‘a surprise.’”

You stared and repeated yourself. “I’m on the pill. And we use condoms.”

“You’re also exhausted, overworked, stressed, and recently had antibiotics for that sinus infection last month, if I recall. Pills fail sometimes.”

“But-but we’re so careful.”, you said, your eyes not leaving the screen, while Doctor Lee cleaned the ultrasound probe.

“I know, sweetheart,” she murmured, cleaning the gel from your stomach with practised care. “But sometimes careful isn’t enough. Life finds a way, doesn’t it?”

You nodded absently, heart thudding somewhere between your ribs and your throat.

The silence stretched for a second, heavy but not uncomfortable.

Your first coherent thought was Oh god, Hoon will be so happy. He will be so excited. Sunghoon loves kids. Hell, you love kids. The two of you had talked about having kids more than once. But…not now. You just got back together a year ago, and you’ve spent almost half of that trying not to burn out studying for your bar exam and then finding a job after.

Oh god. You’re going to lose your job.

“Oh no,” you breathed. “I’m going to lose this job.”

Doctor Lee looked up at you, brows furrowing. “Excuse me?”

You pushed yourself up slowly on your elbows, still in a daze. “I mean–I’ll have to go on maternity leave and reduce shifts. I won’t be able to do surgeries for months. I would totally understand if you are going to fire me. We are understaffed already, and then I would fall away and–”

“Y/N,” she said gently but firmly, placing a steadying hand on your arm. “You are one of the most capable doctors I’ve ever worked with. Losing you would be a loss we couldn’t afford. You’re not going anywhere.”

You looked at her, throat tightening.

She smiled. “Pregnancy doesn’t make you any less of a doctor. You’re still you, brilliant, stubborn, ridiculously hardworking you. And if anyone has a problem with that, they’ll have me to answer to.”

You blinked rapidly, trying not to tear up.

"Take a breath," she added, squeezing your hand. "You're allowed to be scared. But you're also allowed to be happy. You love kids. Having one of your own will be wonderful. I just know you will be a great mother."

You exhaled slowly. “Sunghoon’s going to cry.”

Doctor Lee laughed at that, turning away to print the picture of your ultrasound. “I hope only happy tears.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, pulling your shirt back down and buttoning your waistband with slightly trembling fingers. “Happy tears. He loves kids.”

Doctor Lee offered you a soft towel and one last reassuring smile. “I am glad. I am sure the two of you make a great pair of parents.”

You nodded silently, mumbling a thank-you before slipping back into the hallway.

────────────────────────

The next few hours passed in a strange haze.

You moved through the clinic, checking charts, doing consults, nodding at colleagues’ comments without fully hearing them. Your responses were delayed by a second or two, and your smile felt just a bit too tight every time someone looked at you directly.

At some point, Hyerim handed you a folder, and the smell of her hand cream, coconut-something, nearly made you gag. You pressed your lips together and turned your head like you were thinking, pretending to scan the report more intently than necessary.

You were pregnant.

With a baby.

An actual literal baby.

Sunghoons baby.

────────────────────────

The moment you stepped outside into the late afternoon air, you exhaled properly for the first time all day.

Home. You just wanted to get home. Wrap yourself in Sunghoon's arms, enjoy his warmth and love until you fell asleep. That was all you wanted to do right now.

You fished your phone from your coat pocket, thumb hovering over his name for a long moment before you locked the screen again and dropped it into your bag.

What were you supposed to tell him? Hi Sunghoon. Turns out I wasn’t sick last week. I am pregnant! Surprise. Can you buy ice cream on your way home? Thanks, love!

No. You needed a shower. A moment to sit still and maybe a whole bucket of fried chicken and chilli fries.

Now that your stomach wasn’t feeling as queasy anymore, you were hungry.

You would also have to think about a way to tell him that you were…pregnant. But that had time. At least a bit.

────────────────────────

When Sunghoon came home that evening, you were already asleep.

He had a business dinner that ended later than he expected. When he opened the front door of your apartment, it was already dark inside. You haven’t been feeling the best at the moment, so he wasn’t surprised you were asleep after a full day of work. He passed by the kitchen and stopped in his tracks when he saw the three takeout containers on the counter. You’ve ordered enough to feed a family of five. He chucked and carefully peeled one of the containers open. The smell coming from the food was surprisingly sour. He plucked one of the fried out and ate it without a second thought, only to grimace in disgust.

It seemed like you drowned the poor chilly fry in…lemon juice? He took another one and almost spit it out again. You’ve always had a weird taste in food. Even as kids, he never understood the weird food combinations you seemed to like, but chilly fries and lemon juice? That was new.

He shook his head and closed the container again, storing all three of them in the fridge.

Sunghoon tiptoed towards the bedroom, inching the door open to reveal your figure sleeping sprawled out on the bed. You were wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of his underwear, which you liked to use as pants. The TV was still on, Netflix asking if you were still watching.

He moved towards his nightstand, reaching for the remote, turning the TV off.

It was quite cold in the bedroom, so he activated the heater after he grabbed his own pyjama shirt.

He quickly got ready for bed and carefully adjusted you, trying not to wake you up, while he lay down in the bed. “S’hoon?”, you mumbled, squinting at him.

He almost cooed. Even after almost nine years together, he was still as soft for you as he was in high school.

“Hi, baby. I’m sorry I woke you up.”, he said, moving so he could pet your hair, knowing that the movement would help you fall asleep quickly again.

You shifted, plopped your head onto his chest and slung one leg around his left one. “You smell so good.”

He laughed lowly, “Thank you, baby.”

“Mhm”, you hummed again, already halfway back to dreamland.

────────────────────────

You were barely fast enough to heave yourself to the toilet, your knees hitting the tiled bathroom floor with a dull thud as your stomach lurched violently.

The cold porcelain pressed against your arms as you emptied everything, mostly those damn chilli fries, into the bowl.

Footsteps thundered behind you.

“Y/N! What’s–,” Sunghoon breathed, suddenly at your side, gathering your hair back with one hand and rubbing your spine with the other. “Oh, baby, are you okay?”

You coughed and groaned. Your throat burned from the acidic taste.

“I’m fine,” you managed hoarsely. He made a disbelieving sound behind you. “Yeah, that’s why you’re throwing up like you’ve got food poisoning.” His voice was thick with concern. “You haven’t been eating well, and then you decide to drown cilly fries in lemon juice, baby. That’s a stupid idea even with a healthy stomach.”

You wiped your mouth, still panting slightly. Your head hung low over the bowl, and the smell almost made you gag again.

“I was hungry,” you said. “And... I just really wanted chilli fries. With lemon.”

“You hate lemon.”

You didn’t answer at that. Because he was right. You hated lemons.

He sighed and flushed for you before helping you sit back on your heels, grabbing a clean washcloth from the drawer under the sink and dabbing at your face gently. “God, Y/N. You should stay home today. You shouldn’t even be going in tomorrow. You’re sick.”

“I’m not–” you stopped yourself.

His eyes narrowed.

You cleared your throat. “I’m not contagious. I’ll wear an FFP3 mask. And gloves. And disinfect everything. No one’s going to get sick from me.”

He looked like he wanted to fight you on it, but you smiled weakly, and that seemed to buy you time.

“That’s still irresponsible. You’re a doctor, Y/N, you should know better,” he muttered, frowning as he helped you to your feet. “You’re not a robot. You can take a day off.”

You leaned against the sink, letting your head rest against his shoulder for a moment. You could hear the quiet thud of his heart through his shirt.

Guilt curled in your chest. He was worried. Because he thought you were sick.

But you weren’t sick. You were just...six weeks pregnant.

But you couldn’t tell him that after just emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

There were not many less romantic and exciting moments to tell him about the pregnancy, but you being hunched up over the toilet.

You wanted it to be special. Just you and him. Actually, you wanted to get comfortable with the thought of being pregnant before telling him. He would undoubtedly be so excited, and you weren’t sure if you were.

“I’ll be fine,” you said again, gentler this time. “If it gets too bad, Doctor Lee surely sends me home. But we’re already short-staffed.”

He huffed but pressed a kiss to the top of your head anyway. “I’m still calling you at lunch to check in.”

“Deal,” you mumbled.

You would tell him.

Soon.

Maybe tomorrow.

────────────────────────

You didn’t tell him tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that.

Instead, you did your best in the morning to not get sick while he was there and disappeared to work as early as you could. Your colleagues prepared a small cake and a card for you, congratulating you on your pregnancy, and you almost started crying right there and then during your lunch break.

You have yet to tell anyone that you were with child. Sunghoon, the actual father, your parents, your friends, no one knew.

Somehow, you were unsure about this whole situation. You wouldn’t get rid of the fetus, that was for sure. An abortion was off the table. But you were still feeling queasy about the thought of being pregnant.

Sure, Sunghoon and your relationship were as perfect as it could get, you both had a stable job, good friends and a supporting family, but it’s been only a year. A year since that faithful trip to the South and your more or less impulsive decision to ask Sunghoon to try again. You still had an almost three-year break, and being back together for only one and already expecting a child felt…wrong. Too fast.

What if he realised that you weren’t the one he wanted to have a child with, to hopefully spend the rest of his life with? You would be stuck with his child, would have to see him when you dropped off your child for his weekends would have to somehow juggle being a single mom. Not to mention the heartbreak you would have to go through. Again.

Your vibrating phone cut your train of thought off, and you picked up without looking at the caller. “Hello?” you sniffed into the phone, surprised at the fact that you were sounding like you were about to cry.

“Y/N?”, Yujin's voice rang out of your speakers, sounding alarmed. “Are you crying?”

“No,” you said immediately.

You paused and took a breath that somehow got swallowed when your voice cracked. “Yes.”

And just like that, the tears came. They streamed down your face in hot and fast streaks. You tried stopping them with the sleeve of your free hand, embarrassed to be crying in public.

“Oh my god, what’s going on?” Yunjin’s voice got tighter. “Y/N, talk to me. Are you okay? Did something happen? Is it work?”

“I’m pregnant, Jinnie,” you blurted out, against your will, your voice thick and shaky. “I’m– I’m pregnant. Pregnant. This is so fast, and I don’t–”

You pressed your hand to your mouth for a second, breathing hard.

“Sunghoon and I have only been back together for a year,” you rushed on before she could react, words tumbling over each other. “And half of that he spent being so patient with me because I was always studying or working and barely home, and now I’m pregnant and I haven’t even told him, and what if–what if he doesn’t want this, Jinnie? What if he realises I’m not the person he wants to raise a kid with, and then I’m stuck–”

“Y/N, Y/N, stop,” Yunjin cut in firmly. You stopped rambling, your breath hiccupping through quiet sobs.

“Y/N. Sunghoon loves you. He would never leave you with a kid to raise on your own.”

There was a pause, and you heard rustling on her side of the phone. “Wait, wait. You’re pregnant?!”

You sniffled, voice barely audible. “Yeah.”

“Oh my god, Y/N. You’re pregnant.” You could hear the smile stretching across her face even through the speaker. “Holy shit. You’re having a baby.”

You laughed weakly, but it came out more like a sob. You really didn’t know if you should be laughing or crying over this situation right now.

“Sorry! Sorry. Oh my god, I’m making this worse,” Yunjin said quickly, catching herself. “Okay, okay, deep breath. We’re calming down now.”

You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out a slow breath. “I’m such a mess.”

“You’re not a mess,” she said gently. “You’re pregnant and overwhelmed. Just try to breathe for a second. Being pregnant isn't the end of the world.”

“I haven’t even told him,” you whispered. “I keep… not telling him. Like some coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” she repeated, firm this time. “You’re just scared. But Sunghoon loves you. And you love him. He’s going to freak out a little, yeah, but he’s also going to love that baby like crazy. And you. Especially you.”, she chuckled, “He looks at you like a disgustingly lovesick dog.” You sniffled, wiping your cheek with your sleeve. “I just…don’t know. ”

“That’s totally okay, Y/N,” she said gently. “Except you’re not. Somehow also not? You’re the gyno between the two of us. You should know loads about this topic, actually.”

That startled a watery laugh out of you.

“Where are you right now, anyway?” she asked.

You hesitated. “...On my way to Baskin-Robbins.”

Yunjin paused. “What?”

“I want ice cream,” you muttered, suddenly defensive. “Like… really want it. Mint choco crunch with caramel sauce and sprinkles, and maybe mochi bits if they still have them.”

There was silence for half a beat. Then Yunjin burst out laughing.

“God, you hate mint choco.”

“I hate everything. Even my mint-tasting toothpaste made me gag…or well, the brush in my mouth caused an increased gag reflex, whatever. And I still am craving freaking mint choco ice cream,” you said miserably, staring at the streetlight in front of you.

“Okay. Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn. Around. Go back home, get under a blanket, and cry a bit until I get there in…” you could hear the rustling of her keys and the sound of her front door slamming shut “...thirty minutes. I’ll bring Baskin-Robbins to you.”

You blinked down at the sidewalk, heart unexpectedly tugging. “You’d do that?”

“Y/N. You just sobbed ‘I’m pregnant’. Of course I would.”

Another laugh slipped out of you and turned into an almost sob again.

“Go home, crybaby,” she said.

────────────────────────

Yunjin and you were curled up on your sofa, eating the ice cream she brought.

“I’m scared,” you said quietly, playing with a choco crunch in your ice cream. You hated mint choco, but why was this so tasty?

Yunjin stayed silent and waited for you to continue.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you mumble. “Like… emotionally and mentally. I’m a doctor, sure, I can recite fetal development stages in my sleep, but that doesn’t mean I’m equipped to do this. I like my job. I worked hard to get here. I don’t know how to balance that with a kid.”

Yunjin nodded slowly, taking another bite of her ice cream.

“And Sunghoon…” you took a shaky breath. “He’s so good, Jinnie. He’s careful and kind and thoughtful. But he also just got promoted. He’s working insane hours. What if this ruins things for him? What if he starts to resent me? Or worse, what if he says nothing at all, just gets quieter and quieter until one day I wake up alone with a toddler and no idea what happened?”

Yunjin sighed softly. “Y/N.”

“What?”

“You’re spiralling.”

“I know,” you said, frustrated. Usually, you were very level-headed and calm, but somehow you just couldn’t today. Or yesterday, or the day before. “I just can’t help it. We’ve only been back together for a year. A year. That’s not long enough to be sure, right?”

“You also were childhood best friends and together for like what eight years before your stress-induced breakup, which made both of you incredibly unhappy,” Yunjin said gently. “You’re not rushing into this on a whim.”

You sniffed, nodded and ate another spoon of the ice cream. Mint choco. You couldn’t believe it.

“You’re allowed to be scared,” Yunjin continued. “But you’re not alone. Sunghoon will be the most loving father that has ever graced this earth. Jaemin will be there for you. I will be there for you. Hell, all of our friends will be. Your mom, your dad, his mom and his dad. Everyone.”

You swallowed and nodded, blinking fast, trying not to cry again. “Thanks.”

“To be clear, though,” Yunjin added, “if Sunghoon does disappear one day, I will find him and personally bury him with my bare hands.”

You laughed wetly and shook your head. “He won’t. I know that. I am just irrational cause my hormones are going crazy. For gods sake, I am eating mint choco ice cream, Jinne.”

Your friend laughed at that and shook her head.

────────────────────────

When Sunghoon came home, you were curled up in a blanket on the sofa, not asleep yet, but your eyes were blinking very slowly as you stared into the TV screen.

You peeped up when you realised he was standing in the doorway.

“Hoon!” You swung yourself up from the sofa and rammed into him with enough force for him to stumble a step back. His free hand wrapped around your upper body, while you wrapped your arms around his neck in a very enthusiastic hug.

“Hi Y/N,” he chuckled, trying to set his laptop bag down, “someone is excited to see me?”

“Yeah,” you leaned back, your hands resting on his neck, playing with his hair. “I missed you today.”

“I can tell,” he said, using the hand wrapped around your body to pull you closer, “I’ve missed you, too.”

He pressed his cold lips against your warm ones. They were slightly scuffed. You never used enough lip balm in the cold months to prevent them from cracking. 0You signed contentedly and let your body sink into his again, your hands burying themselves in his hair, pulling slightly. He hummed against your lips at the sensation and carefully pulled back. “I really love kissing you, Y/N. But I really have to pee. So we will have to resume this and continue kissing when I’ve been on the toilet.”

You pouted a bit but released your hands from his hair and stepped backwards. “Hurry, Park.”

He saluted and peeled his dress shoes off. “Aye aye, Miss Y/L/N.”

The first thing Sunghoon noticed when he stepped out of the bathroom after he peed and showered was the smell.

He stopped mid-step and turned in the direction of the kitchen instead of the bedroom, where he was actually planning to go.

“What are you cooking, Y/N?” he asked, making his way into the kitchen. It smelled weirdly tangy.

“Spaghetti al limone,” you said almost cheerfully, swirling the noodles in the water they were cooking in.

He frowned in confusion, “But…you don’t like lemon?”

“Oh. You know. Sometimes you gotta try things you don’t like?”, you said, sounding like you were trying to convince yourself more than him, “They are just like carbonara, but instead of egg you add lemon juice. And I love carbonara. Oh man, I could have made carbonara.”, you stopped in your tracks and…pouted at the pasta?

“...I am sure the lemon pasta will taste fine, Y/N.” he watched you turn towards the counter behind you, where you had cut and squeezed a few lemons.

“But…I don’t usually like lemons.” Your voice sounded horribly watery, and Sunghoon's eyes widened in shock. Were you about to cry over the dish you decided to cook, fully knowing you don’t like one of the main ingredients? What was going on?

You sniffed and turned back around. “It’s gonna be alright, and if not, we can still order something.”

Sunghoon blinked in confusion. “Yeah. Totally. No worries.”

────────────────────────

Sunghoon couldn’t sleep.

Sure, he was tired, but he was also worried. About you, to be precise.

You were curled against him, your leg draped over his, and your fingers gently tugged into the hem of his t-shirt. Your breathing had evened out a while ago. You’ve been so uncharacteristically tired for the last few days.

His fingers drifted lazily up and down your spine, mapping familiar patterns along the dip of your back, and he stared at the ceiling.

You had been off.

Not in any bad way. Just…off.

Since you were sick, you’ve been tired and nauseous quite frequently. You had nearly gagged when he opened garlic chips during a movie night. You, who had once eaten an entire garlic sundubu stew and then kissed him just to watch him squirm.

He smiled faintly at the memory. Then frowned again.

And now…you were cooking and actually eating lemon pasta? Sure, Sunghoon thought it was tasty; he would have preferred carbonara, but the pasta tasted fine.

But…you hated lemons. Or anything too sour, to be particular.

And when he opened the freezer to get some of the chicken he needed to prepare his lunch for tomorrow, he found mint choco ice cream, something he never thought he would ever see in this lifetime in his fridge.

He glanced down at your face, softly illuminated by the streetlight filtering through the curtains.

Maybe… maybe you should see a doctor. Just in case.

He knew that Covid could mess with taste and smell. When he had it back in 2020, he hated everything that smelled remotely like eggs, even though he usually liked eating them.

What if this were something like that? Or maybe you were just burning out again. After all, you were still working more than he would like you to, but seeing how he is spending up to twelve hours a day in the office with the case he was working on right now, he wasn’t one to talk.

You shifted slightly and nuzzled your nose deeper into his chest. A soft hum vibrated against his skin.

His hand froze mid-movement.

God.

He was so ridiculously in love with you, it physically hurt sometimes. He would forever be grateful to Jake that he convinced him to come on that trip last year.

Whatever this was, he could deal with it.

He would always take care of you, even when you thought you didn’t need it. Especially then.

You were his person.

He pressed a kiss into your hair, closed his eyes, and let the thought go for now.

────────────────────────

The store was buzzing with people when Sunghoon and you strolled through the newborn department. Ningning was almost due, and the two of you decided to go shopping for a present. “Mhm, what about this, baby? Look, it’s a bunny,” Sunghoon was holding up a small packet of chewing toys, one of them indeed being shaped like a bunny.

“I don’t know if that’s really useful for a newborn.”, you mumbled, reaching for a bottle.

“But Y/N. They are so cute. Look at them.”, he was shaking it lightly, causing you to look up again, “and they surely won’t have that yet, and they are useful then. Imagine she starts teething and Hyung doesn’t have anything to make her stop crying.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled and nodded, “Add them then. We should definitely buy something for Ning. Her body is going through a lot and will be going through even more when Rami is here.”

“Do you have any ideas for that?” Your boyfriend pushed the cart a few feet further, stopping in front of a display of baby clothing.

“Yeah. Mostly nutrients, because she will need that. And I was thinking about vouchers for restaurants? Heeseung can cook Ramen and that's it.” You watched him pick up a onesie, unfolding it and folding it up again. “And maybe snacks? One of my patients told me she got a giant bucket of snacks and it's in her nursery for her to snack on while she is in the rocking chair nursing her baby.”

Sunghoon hummed and turned around, looking at you with such intensity you almost blushed. “Can you believe that they are going to have a baby?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen her baby plenty of times, actually.”, you mumbled, averting your gaze from his face, so he couldn’t see the big smile that was spreading over your face. “She is cephalic, has all fingers and toes, and a healthy heartbeat.”

“Would you be doing your own ultrasounds when you are pregnant?” He asked, stopping in his tracks, “I mean, if you were pregnant, like not right now. But someday in the future? Maybe?” he asked and looked like he cringed from his rambling.

If he only knew.

“I mean, I think I could ultrasound myself, but I would probably let one of my colleagues do that? Maybe if I were feeling like seeing the baby, I would do it myself?” You pressed your lips onto each other, trying to keep a straight face.

In the week and a half since you got to know you were actually pregnant, you did exactly that. The first time, a day after Doctor Lee initially convinced you to do the ultrasound, just for you to be a hundred per cent sure you didn’t hallucinate the day before. But yes, there was definitely a gestational sac with a small white ring in it in your uterus. Since then, you’ve watched it grow a small fetal pole next to the sac. You have yet to hear its heartbeat, but you wanted Sunghoon to be there when you both heard it for the first time together. “That’s crazy.”, Sunghoon hummed, pushing your cart further.

You just nodded and reached for a pair of socks. “What about socks? Rami is gonna be cold, she can’t regulate her own body particularly well in the beginning, and it’s supposed to cool down by next week.”

“Oh my,” he stopped and reached for the small socks in your hands. “Y/N, look, they are so small. My god, how is all of this so small and cute?”

He looked up at you again, his expression was so unbelievably soft, you had to resist not just reaching up to pull him into a kiss in the middle of the store. “When we have a baby, I promise I will buy her or him everything. Imagine. We have a baby and baby socks and onesies, and then they grow up and it's running around calling you mommy and me daddy. It’s gonna be so cute.”

You smiled tightly, hoping your face didn’t give too much away. Your fingers closed around the socks as you took them back from him and placed them in the cart, alongside the bunny teether and three sets of bibs.

He had no idea.

“Let’s not spoil her,” you murmured, pushing the cart along with him. “Ningning and Heeseung might get jealous if Rami ends up with more stuff from us than from her own parents.”

“But it’s not spoiling, it’s preparing,” he grinned, holding up another pair of socks. “And look, these have little carrots on them. They fit the biting thing.”

You had to turn your head and fake interest in the pacifier display to hide your grin. God, he was going to pass out when you told him.

You watched as he folded the socks and placed them carefully into the cart. His expression was so tender it made your heart ache.

“I think she’ll be a daddy’s girl,” you said absently, reaching for a neutral-colored muslin swaddle.

Sunghoon looked over, blinking. “Who?”

You froze.

“Rami,” you covered smoothly, “Heeseung will spoil her more than you ever could. Don’t you think?”

“Oh. Yeah,” he chuckled, “Poor Ningning.”

You breathed again, letting your gaze flick over the baby bottles and warming racks before casually grabbing a second pair of socks and dropping them into the cart.

They weren’t for Rami.

They were for Sunghoon.

Well, technically for him and your child, but primarily for Sunghoon.

You were planning on using them to tell him. You couldn't wait.

He looked so excited now. So soft and open and already in love with the idea of being a dad.

Sunghoon reached over and laced your fingers together as you neared the checkout. “Thanks for doing this with me today. I know I’m probably going overboard, but… I don’t know. I just want to be a good godfather.”

You squeezed his hand.

“You’re going to be amazing. Haneulie loves you, and Rami will do so as well,” you said, looking down at your belly, still flat and quiet under your sweater.

────────────────────────

Your mom was standing in your kitchen, wearing the slippers you bought her the second you moved into your new flat. They had little kitties stitched onto them, and you just couldn’t resist, knowing your mom would love them.

“...and then he claimed that we have already done that, which of course we hadn’t. But he wouldn’t let us convince him of the opposite,” she said, sighing in mild annoyance while stirring her famous kimchi jjim. You asked her to come over to help you cook for Sunghoon. You never were the most gifted cook, but today had to be perfect, and if there was one thing he loved to eat, it was your mom's kimchi jjim and steak, so you decided to cook both.

Your mother thought she was helping you because you wanted to surprise Sunghoon with a romantic dinner at home after closing the big case he had been working on over the last few months. It didn’t feel right to tell her via phone, so you decided to have some one-on-one time with your mom to tell her.

“I swear he will never-” “Hey Mom,” you interrupted her story about one of her colleagues messing up at work, “was being pregnant hard?”

“I–What? My pregnancies?” your mom asked, perplexed, turning around, looking at where you were sitting at the counter.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I’ve been wondering. I mean, like, was there anything particularly hard?”

“Oh.”, she turned back around and you bit onto your lips, reaching for the magazines, where you had hidden a positive pregnancy test.

“Not really? It wasn’t as bad as Sunghoon's pregnancy, for example. Poor Yuri was so nauseous she couldn’t keep food down for weeks when she was pregnant. We were all so worried.” She stopped stirring for a second, turning around once again, leaning against the oven. “I had very weird cravings, though. I wanted to eat pickles with everything. And back then, pickles weren’t as much of a thing here as they are right now. Your aunt sent me multiple packets full of them from the States.”

“Oh, that's so nice of Aunt Chaeryoung,” you said, nodding and smiling at your mom.

“Why are you asking, my love?” Your mother crossed the distance between the counter and where she was standing in a few steps, now leaning against the other side of it. “Are you and Sunghoon planning on trying for kids? I thought you said you wanted to wait a bit?”

You just shrugged and slid the magazine across the counter slowly.

Your mother raised a brow, taking it from the counter. “What’s this?”

She reached out and lifted it. The second she did so, the test dropped out of the pages, landing on the smooth marble of the counter. She spotted the stick and froze.

You watched her blink.

Then squint.

Then bring it closer to her face.

“Is this…?” she started.

You nodded slowly.

She looked up, eyes wide. “Is this positive?”

“Yeah.”

Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. She looked back down at the test, apparently needing a second to process what she had just realised.

“Oh my God.”

She rounded the counter in an instant, nearly knocking over a chair as she rushed toward you.

“You’re pregnant?!”

You started laughing just as she flung her arms around you, squeezing you tight. “Yes! I’m pregnant, Mom.”

She pulled back just enough to look at your face, eyes already glassy with tears. “You’re having a baby. My baby is having a baby. Oh, Y/N!”

She pulled you in again, and after a few seconds, you felt her shoulders start to shake.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, voice thick, “you’re going to be a mom.”

Your throat tightened, and before you could stop it, your own eyes brimmed with tears. You blinked hard to contain them, but then your chest gave one of those weird, hiccupy stutters you couldn’t control, and the first tear slipped down your cheek.

“God,” you muttered, swiping at your face, “I didn’t want to cry.”

But your mom’s hands were on your cheeks, wiping the tears you couldn’t keep up with, her own falling freely now.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said gently. “This is wonderful. You’re going to have a baby. I’m just… so happy for you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out a little broken.

“I’m excited,” you whispered. “I really am. It’s just… a lot.”

“I know it is,” your mom nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be such a good mom, Y/N. I already know it.”

You took a shaky breath and rested your forehead against her shoulder. “I really hope so.”

“I really know so.”, you could hear her smile in her voice, “You and Sunghoon will be the most perfect parents.”

You sniffed. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“Oh, he is going to be so excited, Y/N.”, she gently caressed your hair.

You nodded again, then paused, your voice muffled against her. “Mom, do you know what's the worst thing? I am craving lemons.”

Her hands stopped moving for a second. “Since when?”

“I don’t know. I just… do. And mint chocolate. Which is even worse.”

Your mom leaned back and stared at you. “You like mint chocolate?”

“I know,” you groaned. “I’m scared, too.”

She burst out laughing, and you followed half a beat later.

────────────────────────

When Sunghoon stepped into the apartment that evening, the first thing he noticed was the smell.

He blinked.

It smelled like it did at your mother's house. He would recognise the smell of her kimchi jjim everywhere.

He dropped his bag by the door, kicked off his shoes, and called out, “Y/N?”

You peeked your head out from the kitchen, a small smile already forming. “Hi.”

He paused, lifting an eyebrow. “Did… did you cook?”

You shrugged, but there was a hint of pride behind your casual tone. “Yeah. Well, my mom helped a bit.”

He walked further inside, looking at the dinner table, which was set with two sets of cutlery, candles and a steaming pot of Kimchi jjim…and steak?

“Wait,” he said, more confused than ever. “Why? Why’d you cook? Did I forget something?”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin widened as you stepped toward him. “No, Hoon. You didn’t forget anything. I just… wanted to. You’ve been working so hard. The case was a nightmare, and now that it’s finally over, I thought you deserved to come home to a proper meal.”

He blinked at you, a little thrown off. “You did all this… just because?”

You nodded, reaching out to fix the collar of his coat before slipping it off his shoulders. “Just because. You’ve been so stressed lately, and I know how tired you’ve been. I figured you deserved to be pampered a little.”

His chest tightened with something warm and a bit overwhelming. How did he get so lucky to fall in love with a wonderful person like you?

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

You laughed. “Yes, you do.”

He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck for a second, inhaling the familiar scent of your perfume. “God, I missed coming home to this.”

“To kimchi jjim and steak?”

“No,” he said, pulling back slightly so he could look at you. “To you. Not passed out on the sofa in the middle of a Netflix episode with your mouth open.”

You gave him a light smack to the chest and turned toward the kitchen again. “Go sit down, Park. Dinner’s done.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He grinned and followed you.

────────────────────────

Dinner was delicious.

Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, watching as you swirled the last bits of stew around in your bowl. You were unusually quiet, chewing slowly, avoiding his eyes just slightly when he tried to meet them.

“Seriously,” he said after a few bites of steak. “This is… really good.”

You smiled, eyes dropping to your plate. “Glad you like it.”

“I’m actually impressed. You always say you can’t cook.”

“I can’t,” you said, stabbing at a piece of radish. “But my mom can.”

He laughed and leaned back in his chair, stretching a little. “Well, remind me to thank her. I haven’t had jjim like this in forever.”

You nodded but didn’t say anything.

He took another bite, chewing slowly.

That alone should’ve tipped him off. You were fidgety.

Not obviously. But your fingers kept tapping the side of your glass. Were you nervous? You didn’t touch your steak, busying yourself with the kimchi jjim and rice instead. You loved steak.

Then you declined his offer of opening the good wine from Japan that Jay had brought.

He set his glass down slowly. “You sure?”

“Yep.” You popped the p and nodded. “Just not in the mood.”

Something tightened in his chest.

You were too cheerful. Almost…performative.

You didn’t usually try so hard to please him. You never had to. He didn’t want you to. He wanted you to feel comfortable around him.

He took another bite, chewed, swallowed, and watched as you refilled your water with slightly trembling hands.

The whole apartment smelled like lemon, which wasn’t surprising since you’d been putting it on everything lately, pasta, chicken, even your rice, which he still refused to acknowledge was acceptable.

“You feeling alright?” he asked casually, trying to keep his tone light.

“Mhmm!” you chirped, a little too high. “Just a bit tired. It’s been a long week.”

“Tired,” he echoed. “But still decided to cook this whole dinner?”

You met his gaze then, eyes soft.

“I wanted to do something nice,” you said quietly. “You’ve had a rough couple of weeks. You deserve to come home and not lift a finger.”

That… that did sound like you. But it didn’t feel like you.

You looked like you were about to either fall asleep or burst into tears.

He leaned forward slightly, brow furrowed. “Did something happen?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re just…” He hesitated, then shook his head. “You’re acting like you’ve rehearsed this dinner.”

That made your eyes widen, just a fraction too much.

“I’m not acting,” you said, forcing a laugh. “I’m just trying to be a good girlfriend.”

Sunghoon tilted his head. “You’re always a good girlfriend, Y/N.”

You looked down at your plate.

He watched you for a moment longer. Then slowly reached for your hand across the table. And intertwined them, smiling at you.

Something definitely happened.

────────────────────────

“Can you grab the dessert from the fridge?” you asked, placing the last empty plate into the sink.

Sunghoon lit up. “Dessert as well? You really do love me.”

You grinned at him, drying your hands on a towel. “Of course.”

He padded over to the fridge, humming contentedly as he opened the door, grabbing the white cake box… only to pause when he opened it.

Neatly tucked inside was...a pair of baby socks and a creme colored jumper? He blinked once. Then again.

“Uh… babe?” he called, still staring at the contents. “Did you accidentally put Heeseung and Ning’s present in the fridge?”

You shook your head, leaning back against the counter, your hands pressed together nervously. “Look a little closer.”

He frowned in confusion and hesitated for a second before carefully reaching inside the box again, pulling out the socks. A small plastic stick was tucked underneath the little jumper.

He pulled it out and almost dropped the box he was still holding.

It was a pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

He pulled the jumper out almost hastily and revealed an ultrasound picture, with your name and today's date written in the corner.

His world tipped sideways.

“Wait–” his voice cracked. “You’re–? Are you–?", he looked up from the box, turning around fast enough to give him whiplash. "Y/N, are you pregnant?”

You nodded slowly, your smile barely holding together now. “Yeah.”

For a moment, Sunghoon didn’t move. He just stood there, completely still. His eyes on you, the box still in his hands, his lips parted.

Pregnant?

You were pregnant?

He looked at the test and then back again. "You're��", his voice cracked, and he rushed towards you, setting the box down just in time to grab you and pull you into his arms, laughing and almost crying. He was pressing his lips to your temple, your cheek, your forehead, everywhere in reach.

You were pregnant!

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered again, in disbelief. “Oh my god. You’re really pregnant.”

You nodded against his chest. “I am. You’re gonna be a dad, Hoon.”

“Oh my god,” he whispered, then louder, “Oh my god.”

He took a shaky step back and then forward again, like his body couldn’t decide whether to explode or freeze. His hands hovered in the air for a second before they shot up to your cheeks, cupping your face gently, like you were made of glass. “You’re–Y/N. You’re pregnant.”

You let out a breathy giggle, eyes sparkling. “Yes, Hoon, we’ve established that.”

He leaned in to kiss you, then pulled back suddenly and looked down. “Oh my god, wait–wait.” His hands dropped to your waist, then slowly, reverently, found your belly. His palms splayed across the softness of your shirt. His fingers were trembling.

“I–you–my god–there is a baby in here?”

You were laughing now, full, unfiltered joy spilling out of you as he crouched slightly, lowering himself to be eye to eye with your stomach. “Sunghoon…”

“There is a baby in here,” he murmured, looking up at you, smiling so brightly his cheeks were hurting. “You’re actually–we’re–”

“We’re going to have a baby,” you finished softly, watching as his eyes filled with tears.

“Oh my god,” he said again, completely breathless. “You’re gonna be a mom. And I’m gonna be–”

“A dad,” you whispered.

He stood upright again and almost crashed his lips into yours. You laughed into the kiss, but reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, returning the kiss.

When you both broke apart to catch your breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, whispering against your lips. “I don’t even know what to do with myself right now. Should I cry? Should I scream?”

You giggled and pecked his lips. “You’re handling it great, actually.”

“No, I’m not,” he mumbled against your skin. “I feel like I am about to pass out, Y/N.”

His eyes scanned your face, completely in awe. You were pregnant with his child. The love of his life was pregnant with his child.

”How long have you known?”

You bit your lip, suddenly sheepish. “About… a week and a half?”

“A week and a half?” he gaped, stepping back slightly, the wheels in his head churning. “Since Haneul got you sick? Did you get your bloodwork taken?”

You shook your head, lips curling into a small smile. “No. Nooo. This,” you said, pointing down at your belly, “this is the reason I was sick.”

He blinked. “What?”

You sighed dramatically. “Your offspring is trying to ruin me, Sunghoon. I’ve had morning sickness all week. Everything is making me gag. Even brushing my teeth. Your child makes me crave horrible things like lemon on chilli fries and mint choco ice cream. And then my stomach proceeds to violently reject all of it.”

Sunghoon's first thought was the view he came home to last week. “So when I came home and you were asleep with like three takeout containers, that was …that was because you had pregnancy cravings?”

You nodded.

“And the lemon pasta?”

You nodded again, holding back laughter.

“And…you crying because the lemon pasta didn’t taste like carbonara?”

“Yeah,” you groaned, laughing. “I didn’t want to cry! I couldn’t help it! I hate everything, and also I want to eat everything, and I want to cry about all of it.”

Sunghoon just stared at you. And then burst out laughing, pulling you against his chest again. He was so ridiculously in love with you.

“You’re pregnant.”

“Yeah.”

You melted into his chest, and the two of you stood there for a long moment, just enjoying each other's presence and digesting the news.

His brows furrowed when he tried to think back to when you got pregnant. He couldn't pinpoint a single time the two of you were intimate without protection. And your job. God, you said just a few days ago that you wanted to wait. But you…already were pregnant a few days ago?

He pushed you back again so he could see into your face.

“I…how did you get pregnant?”, he asked. “We were so careful, Y/N. You’re literally a gynaecologist. You’re on the pill. We used condoms. And your job. You said you wanted to wait another year or two.”

You nodded, still smiling softly. “We were careful. But… birth control isn’t perfect. And yeah, it’s earlier than I planned. Earlier than either of us planned, I think.”

He blinked at you, heart thudding. “Are you… okay with it?”

You reached up, brushing your thumbs over the corners of his lips, still curved in awe. “It’s alright,” you said. “I know you love me. And I know you’ll love our baby. And work will be fine. I’m good at what I do. We’ll figure it out.”

He felt his eyes well up with tears again. “I do love you,” he whispered against your forehead, after pulling you against him again. He somehow didn’t know if he wanted to look at your face or have as much of your body pressed into his as possible. “So much.”

You nodded. “I know. I love you too, Hoon.”

He exhaled shakily, kissing your forehead. “I’ll take care of both of you. I promise.”

You smiled, voice catching in your throat. “You already do.”

He let out a soft laugh. “When you cried over lemon pasta, I thought you were losing your mind.”

You groaned and covered your face.

────────────────────────

On the Monday after you told him, Sunghoon almost ran out of his office the second his last client call for the day ended. You asked him to come to your office so you could show him the baby. Well, you called it the beautiful gestational sac in your uterus, but he refused to call his baby that. Gosh, his baby. He couldn’t believe it.

He was almost shaking with nerves when he pressed the elevator button, up to the clinic. He hasn’t been here often, maybe once or twice when you started working here, to come along when you handed in the last few documents and to carry up a plant for your office.

When he carefully pushed open the door to the clinic, Sunghoon was greeted by the smell of disinfectant and a pop song quietly playing on a radio behind the front desk. The front desk nurse looked up from her phone, immediately smiling when she recognised him. “Oh! You must be Sunghoon! It’s nice to meet you.”

He smiled back at her, trying not to seem as nervous as he was. “Ah, yeah, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Y/n is still treating her last patient of the day. She has already warned me that you would be coming in, but I am afraid you’ll have to wait a second for her to finish up. Would you like something to drink in the meantime?” She was already moving before he could stop her.

“Ah. No, thank you.” he shook his head, and she sat down again. “I’m just gonna wait in front of her office, if that is alright?”

“Sure. I’ll let her know you’re here. She has been quite excited all day.” The nurse started typing on her PC, still smiling at Sunghoon. He gave her a tense smile and nodded, thanking her before moving towards the chairs lined up on the wall in front of your office. His eyes got stuck on the nameplate drilled into the wall.

Dr. med. Y/N Y/L/N. He couldn’t help but smile at it, feeling immensely proud of how far you’ve come. Doctor Y/N Y/L/N.

Before he could sit down, the door swung open and a heavily pregnant woman was walking out of the room. “Thank you so much, Doctor Y/L/N. Have a good evening.”

“You too, Miss Kim.” Your voice came from further inside the room.

The lady looked at Sunghoon a bit confused when she saw him standing awkwardly next to the chairs, but smiled at him when he did so. She walked down the hallway, and Sunghoon carefully knocked on the doorframe to your office.

You were sitting at your desk, typing furiously. The white lab coat you were wearing was a gift from your parents, with small flowers stitched onto the pocket, where you had an array of pens sticking out. You had opened up your hair, the dark strands of hair now falling softly down your neck.

“Hey,” you grinned, standing from your desk.

He swore under his breath. “You look-”

“What?” you teased.

“Unfairly sexy in that lab coat.”

You laughed, walking toward him and pressing a quick kiss to his lips before tugging him by the hand. “Come on. Let’s look at our baby.”

You led him into a small examination room. It was brightly lit and tidy, the ultrasound machine already set up and waiting. He hovered nervously as you hopped up on the chair, tugged your pants slightly down and lifted your shirt to expose the small curve of your stomach. It still didn’t feel real.

“You ready?” you asked, slipping on gloves and squeezing gel onto your skin.

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

The machine came alive with soft static and blurry movement. He leaned in, hand gripping the side of the exam table.

You moved the probe, adjusting the angle, and then, there it was.

A tiny, flickering shape.

“This is it,” you whispered. “That’s the fetal pole. And that”, you turned the volume up, “is the heartbeat.”

The room filled with a soft, fast pulsing.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Your heartbeat was slower beneath it.

Sunghoon inhaled sharply. “Oh my god.” He walked closer to the screen. “Is it-is it healthy?”

“Yeah. Do you see the black thing there?” you asked, pointing to the blurry picture, “that’s the gestational sac. And next to it is the fetus pole. It’s growing beautifully.”

“My god.” Sunghon turned around and took your face into his hands, looking from you to the screen and back at you. “You’re incredible.”

You laughed slightly and leaned back, kidding him softly, “Thank you, Hoon. Would you like a picture of the scan?”

He leaned back. “Do I want a picture of the scan? Of course I want a picture of the scan!”

────────────────────────

That picture of the scan was securely held up on your fridge by a “best mom” magnet Sunghoon ordered as soon as the two of you were home that day. You had invited both sets of parents for dinner tonight to officially tell your dad and Sunghoon's parents about your pregnancy. You made your mother promise not to tell your father the news, wanting to do so yourself.

You and Sunghoon went grocery shopping in the morning, and he busied himself cooking braised ribs while you were preparing a wide array of banchan before napping on the sofa for a bit. A bit turned out to be almost three hours, and both of you were woken up by the shrill sound of your doorbell.

You startled awake, almost falling from the sofa, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon’s arms securely wrapped around your middle. “Fuck!”, you stood up, almost sprinting to the door to ring your parents in. “Hoonie! We overslept! Move!”

Sunghoon sat up on the sofa and blinked beary eyes at you before running his hand over his face. “Huh?”

“Hurry! Start plating the table. I’ll go change!", you ushered him off the sofa, and practically ran into the bedroom.

“Table! Plates! Now!”, you were pulling a dress from the closet before he even stood up.

You brushed your hair, trying to shake the grogginess from your brain, and stepped back into the hallway just as your parents arrived.

You hugged his mother first, while Sunghoon hugged your dad. Mrs. Park was carrying a glass dish of Tiramisu in her hands.

“I’ll put that in the fridge, Y/N.”, she said after she took off her shoes.

You nodded and moved on to greet his father. He wrapped his arms around your body. “Hello Y/N, darling.”

“Hello, Mr. Park.”, you beamed at him and then almost threw yourself into your mother's arms, who was grinning knowingly.

Before you could properly greet your father, Sunghoon's mother's voice carried out from the kitchen, sharp and precise. “Who’s pregnant?”

Your heart skipped. You glanced at Sunghoon, who gave you a well, shit look.

His mom stepped back into view, holding the photo delicately between two of her long, perfectly manicured fingers.

Her face was unreadable, just that same stern expression she always wore when she was assessing something.

“Is this yours?” she asked, her gaze flicking between you and her son.

You swallowed, suddenly unsure whether she was upset, surprised, or simply being her usual self. “...Yes.”

Your father gasped next to you, but you couldn’t even turn around. Sunghoon’s mother crossed the space between you and the kitchen doorway in superhuman speed.

She didn’t even glance at Sunghoon, just cupped your cheeks in her hands, pressing loud, smacking kisses to each one before wrapping you in a hug that nearly knocked the air out of you.

“Imu–!” you laughed, flushed and embarrassed, but she was already let go of you, wiping at her own eyes and telling her husband to look! while Sunghoon stood there with a sheepish half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your dad’s reaction wasn’t much calmer than hers. The moment your father finally processed what Sunghoon’s mother had said, his face broke into the widest grin you’d seen in years. “You’re pregnant?” he repeated, like he wanted to be sure, and when you nodded, he pulled you into a hug.

“Why aren’t you excited?” Sunghoon’s mom suddenly turned to your mother, brows drawn, as if the lack of screaming joy from her side was a personal offence.

Your mother just gave her a patient smile and shrugged. “Because I already know.”

That made Mrs. Park pause for exactly half a second before she turned right back to you, hugging you all over again like she couldn’t stand not touching you. “I knew it. I knew you were fated to give me grandchildren,” she said with the conviction of someone announcing a prophecy. “So many shamans told me I would have strong, sturdy grandchildren one day. And now here you are!”

You laughed, both flattered and slightly overwhelmed, glancing over at Sunghoon, who was now watching his mother with an expression that was equal parts amused and resigned.

“Sturdy grandchildren.”, he mouthed and nodded mockingly behind her back before his father pulled him into his arms. You had to surpass a grin.

────────────────────────

You were tracing along the veins of Sunghoon’s arms, not really watching the show Sunghoon put on. The two of you never talked about whether he would like to know the gender of the baby before it was born. You saw it by accident, or well, not really by accident, during your ultrasound today. Being able to just casually look at your baby in between patients or in breaks was not good. You were checking on the fetus rather frequently, just to check if it was doing alright, if it was healthy and growing at a normal rate. Seeing what you’ve learned in school and usually only saw in your patients on yourself was fascinating, and you just couldn’t stop.

“Hey, babe.”, you murmured.

“Mhm?”, Sunghoon hummed back, the vibrations feeling weird against your back.

“Would you like to know the gender of the baby before it’s born?” you asked, playing with his long fingers.

His head lifted from the sofa. “Do you know it already?” You nodded, not looking away from the TV screen. “Yeah. I checked how he was doing, and he was lying in a position where I couldn’t not see it.”

He straightened up a bit. “He? We’re having a son?”

Oh. “Uhm. Yeah?”, you said, closing your eyes and pressing your lips onto each other. So much for asking him if he would like to wait.

“Really?” Sunghoon asked, sounding all excited.

“Yeah. We’re having a baby boy.” You turned slightly to look at him. He was beaming, his smile stretching over his whole face.

The hand that was resting on your small bump moved to your face, grasping it gently. “A baby boy?”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah, love.”

“My god.”, Sunghoon uttered, seeming almost star-struck. “I love you, both of you, so so much.”

You leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips. “I love you, too.”

Sunghoon was strolling through the store near his gym, searching for his favourite protein powder, when he stumbled over a basket full of lemons.

He stopped in his tracks.

According to the app you made him download and the very, very frequent ultrasounds you insisted on doing “just to check”, the baby was now the size of a lemon. Which was oddly fitting.

In the last seven weeks, he had bought more lemons than any normal person should. You were craving them on everything. Especially on carbs.

Bread, pasta, rice, fries, everything had to taste at least a bit sour. Preferably lemon and not lime sour tho. You tried and claimed that lime sour wasn’t as satisfying. Your intake of water seemingly tripled since you indulged in your lemon cravings, downing multiple glasses of water after each meal or snack that included lemon juice. You “didn’t want your stomach to get too acidic” and preferred going to the bathroom every twenty minutes. The baby wasn’t even big enough to press on your bladder. He chuckled and reached for a few of them. They weren’t particularly small, but felt so small in his mind. Your bump wasn’t too visible yet, but it grew steadily. His favourite activity at the moment was to just lie on the bed or on the sofa with you, watching whatever Drama you were invested in right now, feeding you your awful mint choco snacks, that the baby seemed to love, resting his big hand under your shirt, gently caressing your stomach. It had the slightest hint of a curve and had firmed up a bit, but it was barely there. It was big enough for a little lemon though.

His little lemon.

On his way home, he jumped into a Baskin-Robbins, to buy your preferred mint choco ice cream.

────────────────────────

There was no ice cream left.

You were staring into the freezer trying to find one of the mint green pints of ice cream you had been eating for the last almost 18 weeks on what one could consider a daily basis.

“No.”

You opened the door a bit further and took out several packets of frozen fruit.

“Oh, come on.”

You’ve been craving ice cream all day, being excited to eat an unhealthy amount of it after finally coming home from being at Heeseung and Ningning's house all day, watching over Rami so the two of them could enjoy a date together. Your friends had been so excited when you told them about your pregnancy and so supportive, especially Ningning. So you wanted to give something back to her. That being a day of calm and peace. Rami was teething currently, and it was very hard to calm her down. You ended up napping with her while Sunghoon played FIFA on Heeseung's PS5 for almost 4 hours.

And now that you were home, you just wanted to eat mint choco ice cream.

“Baby?” you called towards the doorway, irritated about how you were starting to feel tears welling up in your eyes. This was fine, it was just ice cream. Nothin to–

“Yeah?” Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his hips, his hair still wet from the shower he apparently just took.

You turned around to face him. “We don’t have ice cream anymore.”

He blinked, looking past you into the fridge, where multiple pints of different ice cream were neatly lined up on one of the shelves. “Like…your ice cream?”

“Yeah.”, you nodded and frowned at him.

He walked towards you slowly, and usually you would have appreciated him being half naked, but right now the only thing you could think of was that you didn’t have any ice cream anymore. One of his hands came up to your face, his long fingers lovingly caressing your left cheek. “We have plenty of other ice cream, my love.”

“It’s not mint choco,” you mumbled and turned away from his hand to look at the freezer again.

His face looked like he was unsure if you were joking or about to cry over not being able to eat ice cream. “I know, but we have-”

“I’ve been thinking about it since we left this morning. I even skipped out on a milkshake when we drove home to make space in my stomach.”

“Babe, we don’t have any and Baskins is already closed.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m so upset. I want Mint Choco Ice cream.”, you lamented, closing the fridge door with a loud thud.

“We have Mint Oreo, Micho Songi, HBAF in Mint Choco, or those Mint Choco pies you like?” he said and tucked a strand behind your ear.

“None of that is the same.” You shook your head and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

Sunghoon lifted his shoulder, looking like he was at a loss at what to do. You were equally as lost, but it honestly felt like the end of the world right now. “I’m so sad.”

“You want me to ask if Jeno and Jaemin still have some left? I am sure they-”

“No.”, you interrupted him and let your head fall against his naked chest, shaking it slightly.

“What do I do?” he sounded almost desperate to find a solution to calm you down.

You laughed slightly against his chest and wrapped your arms around his upper body, almost pressing your body against his, enjoying his warmth.

His arms tentatively wrapped around you as if he were afraid that the gesture would make you more upset.

You tilted your head up slightly, looking up at the faint stubble on his chin. “Are you stressed right now?”

He blinked and opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again. “No. Yes. Kinda?”

You pouted against him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m just pregnant and hormonal because my estrogen and progesterone are going haywire, and I know it’s stupid to cry over ice cream, but I really want to cry over not getting my ice cream.”

“It’s fine.”, he said quickly. “I’m just trying to… problem solve, I guess? But I don’t think this is a problem we can sole. We are really out of your ice cream.”

You exhaled dramatically and pressed the side of your face against him again. “I’m so upset.”

He pressed a kiss against your temple. “I would be upset if I as craving mint choco, too.”

“Hey!”, you hit his back and giggled.

“Sorry, not sorry, baby. I love you, but the mint choco thing is horrible,” he shrugged and chuckled.

────────────────────────

You stood in front of the bedroom mirror in one of his oversized shirts, lifting the hem just enough to see your reflection properly.

The curve of your stomach had shifted from maybe a bloated to an undeniably pregnant one. None of your pants or skirts fit anymore, and it was still too cold for you to wear any dresses.

You moved your leg a bit, and it looked a lot…softer than it did six months ago. Not only did your stomach grow, but it felt like your whole body tripled in size. You knew it was normal to take on weight, and you reassured your patients whenever they were worried about it but that didn’t make it feel better. You were far from an unhealthy weight gain, but it was weird seeing it happen on your own body.

Your face was puffy, and your hips and thighs have gained some weight, as have your breasts.

With a sign, you dropped the T-shirt back down, just as you heard the door creak open.

Sunghoon stepped into the room, having peeled his suit pants off, leaving him in his underwear and the white dress shirt he wore to work today.

You tried to pull yourself together before he caught your expression in the mirror.

He was undoing his tie, and his eyes met yours, only to immediately drop down to your exposed legs and the stretched fabric of the shirt around your middle. A slow smile crept onto his face, and he pulled his tie over his head.

You crossed your arms over your stomach, suddenly feeling a bit awkward and self-conscious.

Sunghoon padded over to where you were standing and slipped his arms around you from behind. His cold hands settled over your belly, causing you to shiver slightly. His thumbs were stroking over the fabric. He sofly pressed his lips against your temple and the two of you spoke at the exact time:

“Do you think I’m ugly?”

“I want to make love to you so badly.”

You blinked.

“What?”, you asked.

“What?”, he echoed.

“I mean–”, “I jus–”, you said at the same time again.

He flushed slightly but didn’t look away. “I was thinking you looked really beautiful and sexy right now. And I want to kiss you. And hold you. And maybe you know... more. But not if you’re–wait. Did you ask if I thought you were ugly?”

You looked down, suddenly overwhelmed. “I’ve just… been eating so much. And I feel big. And I look tired all the time. And–”

Sunghoon cut you off with a kiss on the cheek. Then another, closer to your jaw. His arms tightened around your stomach a bit.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “you’ve always been beautiful to me. But now? Now you’re carrying our baby. You’re so beautiful. You’re soft in all the right places. You’re strong and radiant and just–insanely attractive. I’m not even sure you know how hard it is for me not to touch you all the time.”

He kissed the top of your head, and you let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t feel pretty.”

He softly laughed against your temple and moved towards your ear, his lips grazing your earshell. “If you would like to, I could show you how beautiful I think you are, baby.”

You shivered slightly and tipped your head back, giving him access to your neck.

“Mhm. I’m tired tho.” Your voice came out in a whisper.

“I’m sure we can find a solution to that problem.”, he shifted away and grabbed for your hand, pulling you towards the bedroom.

You giggled softly, “You’re worse than when we were teens. So impatient. You came home barely five minutes ago.

He pulled you against him again, pressing his lips against yours. “You’re so gorgeous. How could I not?”

You let out a soft laugh. “You’re very biased.”

“Damn right I am.”

He leaned back in again, angling his head so he could kiss you a bit deeper. Your knees hit the edge of your bed, and you let yourself drop onto it and scooted to the centre. It was still unmade from the nap you took after coming home from work.

Sunghoon crawled in behind you, and you leaned up to pull him into another kiss. One of his hands landed next to your head, while the other one moved up over your ribcage until he reached the curve of your chest. He paused, giving you the chance to stop him.

You didn’t.

“I mean it.”, he murmured against your neck, trailing kisses over your skin. “You’re driving me insane. You walk around the house in my shirts with this perfect little bump, making all these tiny sounds when you stretch or yawn or cry over ice cream… It’s not fair.”

Your breath hitched when his thumb brushed over a spot that had been sensitive for weeks now.

“See?” he whispered, smiling. “So sensitive.”

You let your head fall back and closed your eyes. “That’s not my fault.”

“No,” he said, voice low now, “that’s our baby’s fault. And I owe them a thank-you, honestly.”

You laughed again, half-gasping when he ran his hand slowly down your side and back up, fingertips trailing fire through the thin fabric of your shirt. You pulled him towards you instinctively, burying your face in his neck as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” he murmured. “But if you don’t… I’ll take my time with you.”

You pressed your lips to his, smiling into the kiss.

“Don’t stop.”

────────────────────────

You speared a piece of grilled tofu with your chopsticks and sighed. “My fundus is officially above the umbilicus. I swear I woke up yesterday and everything just… shifted.”

Jaemin blinked. “Already? Damn, how many weeks are you now?”

“Twenty-three. Which means that I’m currently experiencing the pleasure of apparently not having a working centre of gravity, which is awful, and I am feeling very sorry to every patient I ever had that I told that this is normal. It might be, but it’s also horrific.”

He snorted, sipping his iced tea. “That’s such a specific hell.”

You shrugged. “Round ligament pain, constipation, reflux. Pick your fighter.”

Jaemin laughed and leaned in. “And the fetus? Everything looking good?”

You nodded, the faintest smile curling your lips. “Anterior placenta, cephalic position as of last check, biometric parameters are on track. Good tone, strong fetal heartbeat.”

“Nice,” he said with a small, impressed nod. Then, after a pause, “Are you still having sex?”

You nearly dropped your spoon.

“I mean,” he said, raising a brow, “you know the pelvic pressure is only gonna get worse in the third trimester, and with the fetal head descending…and you and Sunghoon have always been rather…active. Also, I imagine it being a bit weird with the bump, and I want some insights here. It’s a problem I will never have.”

“Jaemin,” you warned, but your voice was weak, because yeah. He wasn’t wrong, both about you and Sunghoon having sex rather frequently.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, “you’re in the sweet spot right now.”

You sighed. “Yeah.”

Jaemin tried not to grin. “That sounded both good?”

“Because it is,” you muttered, poking at your bibimbap again. “My libido is weird. Like I’m either nauseous or I want him immediately. There’s no in-between.”

He nodded solemnly. “Hormones are wild.”

“They are. I feel like a walking contradiction.”

“Hey,” he said with a smirk, “as long as you’re safe, and the cervix is closed, and the placenta isn’t low-lying…”

“God, you sound like you’re my gynechologist scolding me,” you laughed.

“I might not be a gyno, but I’ve learned enough about that to be qualified to scold you.”, he replied, smug. “And I love that my best friend is having great second-trimester sex.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You sighed again, letting yourself lean back against the booth. “No. I really don’t.”

────────────────────────

Sunghoon wasn’t really asleep yet.

You were shifting and moving around a lot, trying to get comfortable. Your bumb has grown a lot in the last weeks, and you had a hard time falling asleep.

He was lying on his back, one hand behind his head, the other resting near you, but not touching you. You had carefully moved it off the bump when you shifted the first time, and he simply hasn’t moved it yet.

You turned over again, facing him. He moved his hand a bit, searching for yours without opening his eyes. He squeezed it gently when he found it, and you sighed.

A few seconds later, you whispered. “Baby…”

He hummed in response, keeping his eyes closed.

“Baby, I’m hungry.”, you mumbled into the dark.

Sunghoon cracked one eye open, squinting at you, “Mhm?”

You repeated yourself, sounding a little sheepish. “I’m hungry. I’m gonna go to the kitchen and eat something and maybe watch a bit of ‘Doom at your service’. Just keep sleeping.”

He just nodded and let his eye fall shut again. You rolled over with a quiet grunt and heaved yourself out of the bed. Sunghoon heard the soft noises of your slippers, when you waddled towards the door. Only when he heard the click of you closing it again, he finally registered what you said.

He groaned, running a hand over his face, before opening both eyes again. The digital clock of his alarm read 2:07 a.m. He knew this wasn’t your fault or the babies but he just really wanted to sleep right now. He didn’t sleep well last night and worked almost 10 hours today.

Taking a deep breath, he swung his legs out of the bed and followed you.

You were standing in the dimly lit kitchen, the only light coming from your phone's flashlight, resting next to the stove. A small pot of water was slowly starting to boil while you were ripping open a packet of instant tteokbeokki, your and the babies newest obsession. This one, Sunghoon couldn’t even complain about. Just regular, plain tteokbeokki without any mint choco or lemon juice.

He shuffled behind you and buried his face in the curve of your neck. His arms wrapped around your body, and Sunghoon carefully cupped your bump, lifting it gently.

You leaned into his body, the back of your head resting on his shoulder. “I told you to stay in bed. You have to get up early tomorrow, you need to sleep.”

He gave the side of your head a small kiss, murmuring: “I wouldn’t be able to sleep without you two next to me.”

You sighed and caressed his hands, letting your fingers run along the veins. “I don’t know. Lemon has been so restless tonight. He’s been moving so much. It’s so uncomfortable.”

He hummed, rocking you slightly in place. The two of you stood there for a moment, swaying slightly, the water bubbling quietly in the dim light.

“He’s so heavy.”, Sunghoon whispered after a while. He was feeling so bad that you had to carry all of this weight around all day, so he gladly held up your bump whenever he could.

You let out a snort, but before you could answer, you winced. The baby had kicked you, right against Sunghoon's right palm.

He laughed slightly and softly pressed into your belly. “Don’t you dare talk back at me, little man.” There was another slight kick against his other hand now. It felt a bit as if the baby was pressing against his palms.

“Mhm. He seems not to like being called heavy.”, you chuckled and ripped open the seasoning pack.

“He is heavy tho. And not letting you sleep.” Sunghoon retorted, his thumb circling the last spot he felt a kick.

“Yeah…”, you sighed again, “I wish he would just sleep. I’m tired.”

“Maybe he’ll let you sleep after you’ve eaten something.” he rested his chin on your shoulder and watched you finish up cooking the rice cakes, pull the pot off the stove and pick one up on your spoon.

“Hopefully.” Back in bed, after you’ve eaten, peed and brushed your teeth, Sunghoon pulled you close immediately. Your back is pressed against his chest, while his hand almost instinctively finds its place on your belly again. He caressed it slowly, pressing back into the places where the baby kicked out.

“Alright, baby”, he murmured, “time to let Mommy and Daddy sleep now. You can kick your heart out as much as you want to in approximately twelve weeks. For now, please stop.”

You laughed softly and wrapped your arm around his.

────────────────────────

You sat cross-legged on the sofa, balancing your laptop on your knees. Sunghoon was sitting in the middle of the living room, surrounded by screws and a crumpled instruction sheet. His hair was falling into his face while he was tightening another bolt into one of the legs of the half-built crib.

“This is all so expensive,” you muttered, tapping at the trackpad a little too hard. You were searching for a new apartment for Sunghoon, the baby and you. Needing one or…maybe even more additional rooms for your little growing family.

Without looking up, he said, “We’re fine, babe. We’re both well-paid, employed adults.”

“Yeah, now,” you shot back. “But I won’t be full-time for months. I want to be at home for a while, so less money.”

He didn’t even pause his work. “We’ll still be fine. You’ve studied and worked so hard for where you are. Doctor Lee said she would give you however many hours you want to work when you want to go back to work. We’ve got savings, I’ve got a steady income–”

“Would you want more babies with me?” you blurted, cutting him off.

The screwdriver stilled in his hand. He finally looked up. “…Do you want more?”

“I don’t know!” Your voice cracked. You did want more. But what if having a baby wouldn’t work out for the two of you? Some couples get their babies and then realise that it is harder than they thought, and break up. You loved Sunghoon so much, even thinking about it broke your heart. You desperately wanted to grow old with him, to see what the future had coming for the two of you.

“We broke up once before, because life got too much? You were gone all the time, I was burned out, and we just–” You gestured helplessly. “–fell apart. What if it’s the same again after we’ve had our baby? What if we can’t handle it? What if we’re going to burn out again and fight again, and break up? Then Lemon has to live with separated parents.”

“Y/N…” he sighed, still calm. “When we first got back together, you were studying for your board exam. You were exhausted. I was working insane hours. And we still made it work.”

“That’s different!” you snapped. “That was a couple of months. This is years. A baby changes everything–”

“In the best way,” he cut in gently.

You stared at him, pressing your lips onto each other. Frustration was knotting in your chest. “You’re not even listening to me.”

“I am listening,” he said, voice still even, which somehow made it worse.

“You’re irritated,” you accused him, putting down your laptop on the sofa, crossing your arms across your chest. “I can tell.”

“I’m not irritated,” he said firmly, setting down the screwdriver.

“You sound irritated–”

“Y/N.” His tone sharpened just enough to make you stop mid-sentence. He exhaled slowly, pushing his hair back. “I’m not irritated. I’m trying to reassure you. But if you’ve already decided I’m upset, I can’t win here.”

You swallowed, the heat behind your eyes prickling now. “I just… I’m scared, okay? What if we’re not made out to be parents and we will be bad at parenting?”

He walked over and crouched in front of you, forcing you to meet his eyes. “We’re not. Y/N”, he reached forward, tucking a stand of hair behind your ear, “You’re right, five years ago we were struggling a lot because we were burnt out, both of us. And I regret nothing more than letting you go. But we’ve come so far. And we both know what to do if we’re feeling like a burnout is coming. You did so before the exam, remember? You let me know what you wanted and what you needed me to do. It worked out fine, didn’t it?”

You nodded, averting your eyes from his. You really just exploded into his face for nothing.

“We’re not doing ‘two under two’ anyway. I am definitely not ready for that. So can we just breathe for a second and focus on this one?”

Your lip wobbled, but you nodded. “…One baby at a time.”

“Exactly.” His mouth curved in the faintest smile. “And for the record? Yes. I want to have more kids with you. Just not right now.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He kissed your temple before going back to the crib.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered almost immediately after, your throat tightening. “I don’t even know why I–”

You’re throat closed up, and tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. You pressed your palms into your eyes, trying to stop them from falling.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, your voice muffled. “I’m upset that I’m upset. It’s so stupid. I know it’s the hormones, I know this isn’t me being rational, and I still–”

“Shhh.” Sunghoon was already pulling you into his chest, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling. Cry as much as you want to cry.”

You clung to him, trying to match your breathing to the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When he sensed that you had finally settled, he leaned back just enough to catch your eyes. “You know what?” he said quietly. “I’ll finish the crib later. Let’s go get ice cream. Or something else if you’re craving something else.”

Your lips twitched into a small, tired smile. “…You’re serious? It’s like 10 am and you’re on a diet.”

“Dead serious.” He brushed away the last of your tears with his thumb. “I’ll even eat mint choco if you want another one, just in case you still want mint choco afterwards.”

You exhaled, shaking your head softly. “You’re unbelievable.”

He was grinning at you. “I’m just unbelievably in love with you.”

────────────────────────

You pushed open the front door, letting it fall closed behind you with a soft click. Your bag made a louder thud when you let it drop onto the floor before finally toeing your shoes off.

You had around a month left of work, and you couldn’t wait to not have to go to work anymore. As much as you loved working and would really like to continue, even though you were expecting, working full-time at 32 weeks pregnant was harder than you imagined.

“Hey!” Sunghoon's voice came from down the hallway. A moment later, he appeared in the

bedroom. His hair was a bit messy, as if he had run through it a lot today. Your gaze wandered from his face to his t-shirt, which he was currently pulling down.

You didn’t know if it was the hormones or the tiredness or the fact that your boyfriend was admittedly unbelievably attractive, but suddenly you weren’t thinking about how sore your ankles were feeling anymore. You were thinking about Sunghoon.

And only Sunghoon.

“Hi.”, you said, your voice lower than intended. He tilted his head.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.” You dropped your jacket on the table and walked toward him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt when you reached him. “Just missed you.”

His hands found your hips automatically. “You saw me this morning.”

“That’s too long ago.”, you murmured, rising on your toes to kiss him.

He blinked in surprise but melted almost instantly, his hands smoothing up your sides.

“Oh.”, he whispered against your lips, “That kind of missed me?”

You hummed a soft affirmative. Your hands found their way under his shirt. He was so warm under your touch.

“You sure?” he asked, searching your eyes.

You nodded.

“I don’t want to hurt you, or–”

“You won’t,” you said. “Just be gentle. I’m not made of glass.”

He let out a low breath, one hand sliding to your lower back as you walked him backwards towards the bedroom.

“You’re not,” he agreed softly against your lips, letting you push him into the mattress.

You sat down on his lap, your bump being in the way, so you separated for a second, using that time to pull his shirt over his head and pressing your lips against his again before he could utter a word.

────────────────────────

Sunghoon's heartbeat was steady beneath your ear. Your cheek was pressed against his naked chest, your legs tangled together underneath the blanket that was haphazardly draped over the two of you.

He ran his fingers gently along your spine, occasionally stopping to trace a few symbols or letters into the naked skin, causing your eyes to flutter shut. You were about to give in to sleep, finally giving way to the exhaustion of the day, when Sunghoon chuckled. The soft ramble loud under your ear.

“What,” you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

He huffed another laugh. “You really came home, climbed me like a tree, and now you’re passing out on me before I’ve even had dinner.”

You made a weak noise and nuzzled into his chest.

“I mean, not that I’m complaining,” he continued, “but I was literally about to boil pasta when you showed up and ambushed me.”

You groaned, half into his chest. “I had a long day. And hormones are crazy. And you look like that and–” you yawned, “I love you and I was horny.”

He kissed the top of your head. “I know, baby.”

A beat of silence passed before Sunghoon moved slightly. “I’m going to cook dinner. I’ll wake you up when it’s done. Just sleep for a bit.”

You cracked one eye open. “Can you cook tteokbeokki? And can we eat in bed?”

He smiled as he stood, leaning down to kiss you softly once, twice, three times on your forehead. “You got it, boss.”

You sighed happily, sinking back into the mattress.

For a long moment after Sunghoon got up, you were just lying there, your hand slowly drifting to your belly. Your bump had grown significantly over the last weeks. It felt tight and warm when you traced a slow circle over the firm curve.

“Okay, little guy.”, you whispered, “We're going to get ready for bed, eat something and sleep. Let’s not kick Mommy in the middle of the night today.”

He gently kicked against your hand, and you sighed. With a grunt, you pushed yourself upright using one hand to brace yourself on the mattress and swung your legs over the side.

Everything took more effort lately, standing up included.

You passed Sunghoon in the hallway, where he was standing with a bucket of gochujang from the storage closet.

“Do you have to pee?” he asked knowingly.

You nodded. “And shower. I’m disgusting. And then rub oil into my stomach. ”

He smirked. “Let me know if you want help with any of that.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You offering to wash my feet or rub oil on my stomach?”

“Both,” he said with zero hesitation, then wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m versatile.”

You snorted, already halfway in the bathroom. “You’re impossible.”

Twenty minutes later, you shuffled out of the bathroom, showered, lotioned and absolutely ready to collapse into your bed again. Showering wasn’t nearly as relaxing as it once was. It was a full body workout by now.

You braided your hair while walking towards the bedroom, where Sunghoon was setting down a plate of rice cakes by your side of the bed.

He caught you gently by the waist and leaned down, first kissing you, then crouching slightly to press a second kiss to your bump.

“Alright, little lemon,” he murmured against your skin, “be good tonight. Let Mommy sleep. No bladder kicks, no hiccups at 2 a.m., no weird hunger pangs, okay?”

You ran your fingers through his hair. “Don’t scold him. He just wants a bit of attention.”

Sunghoon looked up at you and smiled. “He can have all of our attention. But not at night, when you and I should be sleeping deeply.”

────────────────────────

Sunghoon carefully opened the front door, trying to be as quiet as possible to get in and take his jacket and shoes off as much as he could. It was almost ten pm. Your flat was dark, and he assumed you were either sleeping already or at least trying to.

The first thing he saw when he stepped inside was you. You were curled up on the sofa, your head turned toward the backrest, hugging the oversized nursing pillow you’d bought for the baby. Your hair was messy, your breathing slow and even, and the blanket draped over you barely covered the curve of your belly.

He stopped in the doorway, his chest tightening.

He and everyone else, including your boss, tried to convince you to stop working. You’ve been complaining about your back hurting and your feet being swollen, but you refused to stop. You kept saying how you had two patients that were due soon and you just wanted to be there for them, ignoring that you yourself were also due in barely four weeks.

Sunghoon couldn’t believe that it had been eight months since you told him you were pregnant. Time flew by so fast.

He walked over, crouched beside you, and brushed a stray hair from your cheek, causing you to stir lightly, but you didn’t wake up.

God, Sunghoon felt guilty.

He was feeling guilty because you fell asleep on the sofa, waiting for him to come home, for him to help you fall asleep. You always had trouble falling asleep, even before being heavily pregnant, but in the last months, you’ve struggled more and more.

And he…he wasn’t there. He was stuck in the office or on the kitchen table, working at bizarre hours.

Sunghoon straightened up and walked into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

He looked tired. Incredibly tired. He felt incredibly tired and scared.

How was he supposed to be a good dad, a good partner, when he wasn’t even able to be there now? What if he was a bad dad?

He loved his parents, but he also desperately wished he was never going to be like them.

During his childhood, up to his teenage years, his parents never really had time for him or his sister. And even if, his mother always expected him to be perfect, her perfect golden boy. He felt like the only way to get her attention was by being just like she wanted him to be.

Perfect. He desperately wanted her praise, her love, but at some point, it was getting harder and harder. His father never really said anything and stayed silent.

Your parents were the complete opposite. They were both working full-time as well, your father being a doctor and your mother a manager, but somehow they still always had time for their children. Treating them lovingly and not preassuring them to be perfect. They loved you either way. Your mother basically raised him along with you and your sister, inviting him in for lunch and dinner, attending all his competitions, even if his own parents didn’t come, and comforting him if he came over crying.

He desperately wished to be like your parents, hoping their parenting somehow rubbed off on him.

────────────────────────

Sunghoon's hand was resting on your hip, absent mindedly racing circles over the soft skin. You were still tucked against him in bed, your bump pressed into his side. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment.

“Do you think I’m going to be a bad dad?” Sunghoon asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion flickering over your face. “What? No. Why would you even think that?” you said.

“Last night,” he said quietly. “I came home and you were asleep on the sofa, waiting for me to come home. I’ve been coming home late all the time, and you’re… you’re doing everything while carrying our baby. I just…” He shook his head, his hand pausing on your hip. “I’m worried I won’t be enough when he’s here.”

You shifted closer, resting your hand on his chest. “Sunghoon, you’re working hard for us. For me. For our baby. Yes, you might not be home when I fall asleep sometimes, but you’re doing your best, and I know so. You’re not a bad dad if you aren’t here all the time.”, you said.

“You think so?” he said, searching your face.

“I know so,” you said, your voice warm and certain.

And then, as if to punctuate your words, the baby kicked against the inside of your bump. Sunghoon felt it through your bump, the little thump startling him into a smile.

“See? He agrees with me,” you said with a small smirk.

He laughed, leaning down to kiss you before pressing his lips to your stomach. “Thanks, Lemon,” he murmured, feeling the knot in his chest loosen.

────────────────────────

It was just after midnight when Sunghoon woke to the sound of you shifting in bed. You inhaled sharply and sat up.

He turned toward you. “What’s wrong?” he said, his voice rough from sleep.

You were pulling the blanket back, revealing a wet spot on the bed. “Uh… I’m pretty sure my water just broke,” you said matter-of-factly, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.

For a second, Sunghoon’s brain didn’t process what you’ve just said. “Wait–what? Already? But we–there’s still two weeks–”

“Yeah,” you said, standing and grabbing your phone from the nightstand, completely calm. “It’s nothing to panic about. Forty weeks is just a rough estimation. Many babies come before that.”

“Nothing to panic about–are you serious?” he said, throwing the blankets off and stumbling to his feet. His heart was already racing. “We–the bag–where–where is the bag? We have to hurry!”

You turned, hands up like you were soothing a skittish animal. “Sunghoon. Nothing has happened yet except that my membranes ruptured. I’m not even feeling contractions yet. Take a deep breath.” You shook your head and moved to the bathroom, waddling a bit, if this was the most normal conversation in the world. “We have time.”

He ran a hand through his hair, stalking to the corner where he last remembered the hospital to be. “You’re way too calm right now.”

“I’m literally a gynechologist,” you said with a tiny smirk, grabbing one of his sweats and a t-shirt. “This is normal and nothing to worry about. I’ll go change. Could you perhaps change the bedding? I don’t want our mattress topper to be soaked in my bodily fluids.”

He stopped pacing long enough to watch you walk out the door before he stammered. “Change–change the bedding?”

────────────────────────

The thin hospital gown was brushing uncomfortably over your skin as you shifted. Lying here, in the delivery room, being strapped up to a fetal monitor, squeezing Sunghoon's hand every time another contraction hit, felt almost surreal. You’ve been here so many times, helping other women through this exact process, and now your old colleagues are telling you what to do, helping you deliver your baby boy.

Sunghoon hovered at your side, one hand gripping yours, the other brushing stray hair from your sticky forehead.

“You okay?” he asked for what felt like the tenth time in five minutes.

You exhaled shakily, keeping your tone as even as possible, trying not to worry him. “I’m fine. I just–God–need that epidural.” You glanced toward the door, silently willing Dr. Lee to walk in already. She was a nice lady in her fifties with an incredibly steady hand and probably the best doctor you knew to give you an epidural. Her Kimchi Jeon was amazing. Right now, you would rather be sitting in the break room, eating one of her kimchi jeon, than suffering in here.

The next contraction made your whole body arch slightly, breath catching. You counted through it, just like you told your patients to do, but it was so much harder when it was your own body. God, right now, you wish you didn’t know what exactly was going on with your body. You were desperately trying to rationalise the whole situation, but it wasn’t working all too well.

“I thought you said first labour takes forever,” Sunghoon said softly, almost like he was afraid of distracting you, ignoring that you were squeezing his hand to death, probably.

“They do. Usually,” you managed between clenched teeth. “But apparently Jungwon is in a hurry.”

He gave a half-laugh, though his thumb kept rubbing circles against the back of your hand like he himself needed the motion to stay calm.

When the contraction eased, you let your head fall back against the pillow, chest rising and falling quickly. “It’s weird, being here. I know all of the nurses and doctors. I’ve stood in this exact room, telling women it’s going to be fine.” You glanced at him, a humourless smile tugging at your lips. “And I still know it’s going to be fine, I’m going to be fine. I just really, really want the drugs.”

He kissed your temple. “They’ll come soon.”

You hummed, closing your eyes for a second before another wave started building. “God, here it comes again…” You gripped his hand tighter, and this time, he leaned in so close you could hear his breath over the monitor, murmuring steady encouragement until the worst of it passed.

────────────────────────

He was so small.

3,21 kg and 47cm.

All fingers, all toes, a small head of black hair.

Jungwon was sleeping calmly on your chest. He was still a little damp from birth, and he was so warm. His breath, his tiny exhales, were ghosting against your skin.

You have seen this moment happen to so many women before, but nothing, nothing, could have prepared you for how it felt to finally hold your own baby against your chest.

Sunghoon was hovering just beside the bed watching you breastfeed Jungwon, while the nurses cleaned the room around the three (three!) of you. His eyes were darting between you and his son, as if he didn’t know where to look first.

His hand reached up and he smoothed over your hair, brushing it out of your face. The strands were drenched in sweat, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I love you, Y/N. You did so well. Thank you so much”, he said, his voice full of awe and something akin to awe.

You laughed slightly, trying not to disturb your baby (your baby!!) from feeding. “I love you too, Hoon.”

“He’s so small.”, Sunghoon said, letting his hand wander from your face to his son. Jungwon wrapped his little fingers around his big one almost immediately.

“He is.”, you murmured, carefully sitting the baby up after he finished feeding to burp him. After successfully getting him to do so, you glanced up at Sunghoon.

“Do you want to hold him? Skin to skin is important for the father as well.”, you asked softly.

He nodded quickly and took off his t-shirt, folding it up and looking around for a place to put it.

“You can lay it down here it.”, you said, gesturing with your head to the side of your pillow and then to the free space he was sitting in during the birth. He nodded quickly, almost too quickly, sat down, and carefully took the baby when you shifted him toward him. His hands looked huge against his tiny back, but he was so gentle, holding him like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

When the nurse helped him settle into the chair, you watched his shoulders loosen, his whole expression melted into one you would never forget.

“He’s so warm,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

You smiled faintly, letting your head rest against the pillow, while Sumni, a nurse, cleaned one of your legs. They were still kind of numb. “That’s kind of the point.”

He looked over at you. “You should sleep.” “I’m fine,” you murmured, but your voice came out tired. You knew your baby was healthy, but you didn’t want to leave him out of your sight. You’ve seen so many things go so horribly wrong, even if everything looked all right.

“You’ve been in labour for hours, you’re not fine,” he countered gently, adjusting the baby in his arms so he could brush his fingers over your hair. “Sleep, baby. I’ll keep watch.” “But what if something happens?” you asked, wincing slightly when Sumni brushed over your stomach with a wet towel.

She chuckled. “Y/N, dear. Just listen to Sunghon, nothing will happen, and even if, you wouldn’t be able to leave the bed. You know how fast we react if you call for us. Just sleep. Your body needs it, you should know that.”

“Promise to wake me up if anything happens.”, you nodded and mumbled before sleep overtook you.

────────────────────────

When you stirred the next time, you squinted against the light for a second, adjusting to the sunlight trickling in through the curtains. Your legs felt heavy, and you were warm. You winced a bit when you slightly shifted to the side.

You blinked slowly, yawning quietly before you saw him.

Sunghoon was sitting in the chair beside your bed, one ankle hooked over his knee, Jungwon curled against his chest. His hand was spread protectively over his tiny back, Sunghoon’s head bent just enough to press his cheek against the soft cap of his hair. And he was humming. You didn’t recognise the song. Maybe it was something new Heeseung was working on.

You didn’t say anything, afraid to shatter the moment. So you were just laying there, watching the two of them, your chest tightening with a feeling that was almost too big to hold.

This was why. This was why you went to his house after that trip almost two years ago.

You always knew Sunghoon was the person you wanted to grow old with if both of you had the opportunity to do so. Life feels so long, but it can also be so short and you couldn’t imagine not spending the rest of yours with Sunghoon.

Sunghoon glanced up, his eyes catching yours, and the smallest smile tugged at his lips. “Hey,” he whispered, trying not to wake Jungwon up. “Hey,” you whispered back.

And as you took in the sight before you, the man you loved holding the life you’d both created, looking at you like you were his whole world, you knew, without a doubt, you couldn’t be happier than you were right now.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty

all feedback and reblogs are welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ my masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ taglist. @enhastolemyheart @dreamiestay @elairah @vviolynn @engenemilia @xylatox @firstclassjaylee @mangoescrazy @seokjinthescientist @ddolleri @tatikeu @chaostudee @rikivsh @cloud-lyy @tobiosbbyghorl @goldenmellow @en-boyz

ᝰ an. I hope you enjoyed them being cute tgt. I'm sorry for the multiple tags, i had to repost the story several times until it showed up in the tags. Tumblr apparently hated the pictures i chose and wouldn't let me upload the post .ᐟ₊ ⊹

435 notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 20 days ago

Text

OH MY GOSSHH 😭😭 READ THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING IN ONE SEATING, IGNORING THE FACT THAT I HAVE TO GET UP AND I TOTALLY NOT REGRET IT. THIS IS SO GOOD 💯 I DON'T KNOW ANY MORE WORDS TO SAY HOW GOOD THIS IS

TO MY FIRST 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

⭑.ᐟ A rainy Highschool reunion trip with Exes Med Student!Y/N and Lawyer!Sunghoon You knew Sunghoon would be there. Of course he would be. You had made your peace with it. You’re friends now, kind of. It’s fine. Really. Seeing him at your Highschool reunion was kind of a given. That you agreeded going onto a trip with your friends, including him, later that year, however surprised yourself. Sunghoon can somehow still read you like an open book. Of course he could. He was the person you once planned to marry...until life got in the way. You buried yourself in work, in reaching your goals. Between helping out with Jay's toddler, pretending you're not running on empty, and trying to avoid old feelings during the trip , you start to realize something: Somewhere along the way, you stopped living the life you actually wanted. And maybe, just maybe, there’s still time to fix it.

⋆｡◛ ⊹ ⤳ requested ･:*:･｡☆

ᝰ genre. exes to lovers, fluff, angst (just a tiny bit tho) and loads of yearning, heavily inspired by the kdrama 'Love Next Door' ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warning. stress at work and uni , mention of burnout, insomnia, mentions of death, Y/N is lowkey unhappy with some life choices she made .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 31.5 k .ᐟ₊ ⊹

“Y/N. You have to come”, Yunjin whined into the phone loud enough for you to lower the volume of your phone with your free hand.

“I don’t know Yu”, the emart you were in was fuller than you expected it to be on a Thursday morning at 9 am. “I really don’t see the point in going. We are still in contact, aren’t we? All the people that I want to see, I do, and there are way too many I am glad to not see ever again.”

“Y/N that's the whole point! What about Chaehyun? Or Jake and Jay? Or, oh I don't know, Gaeul? You haven’t met up with her in months?” You signed and walked towards the frozen section in the supermarket. Lately you didn’t really feel like cooking nor had the time to do so. Jaemin did cook sometimes but most of the time the two of you just got takeout or cooked ready to eat meals. Ramen was your top contender. You’ve tried probably every flavour on the market. “I called her pretty recently? And I know I haven’t really caught up with the boys. Don’t you think it would be weird to be close to my exes best friends?” “First of all you called Gaeul like two months ago, that's not recent,” Yujin huffed. “And I don't think it would be weird? We were all friends, even after the two of you broke up, remember?” “I know. I just…”, you really didn’t know why the thought of meeting everyone made you feel so queasy, Yunjin was right, they were your friends, or at least close acquaintances. “I don’t know Yu, I feel like it would be weird. I mean I am really a shit friend. I don’t keep up with everyone's life and I never have much to talk about except work or uni right now. That's all my life is.” “Oh, I know. I’ve never seen a worse texter than you, Y/N. But I don’t think the others would mind, they would probably all be excited to see you. It’s been a while and you really deserve a break Y/N. Even if it’s just one evening. Working yourself to the ground only to get your licence won’t make you graduate faster or a better doctor. I am worried you’re working yourself into a burnout”, she said softly.

You swallowed and stopped in front of the big freezers, looking at the rows after rows of frozen products. She was right. In the last few years your focus has fully been on your studies, your residency or your Board Certification Exam and you didn’t have much time or mental space for other things. Right now work took up most of your awake hours, but somehow it was really fulfilling. Most of the time at least. You loved being a doctor, a gynecologist to be exact. You loved your job, helping people, healing people, bringing new life to the world. Of course there were the shadow sides like the almost 100 hour work week or the days you lose patients. Losing a life is never easy, and would never get easier. You hated shifts in the NICU. “I know. I know.”, you sighed again. “Look Yu, I’ll see what I can do. Maybe someone can switch shift with me, don’t get your hopes too high tho.” “Yes! I knew I could convince you! You absolutely will be there!”, Yunjin cheered loudly again. “I just said don’t get your hopes up?”, you shook your head and threw three packets of frozen vegetable mixes into your basket. “Nah uh! You’ll come. I’ll personally call the hospital to ask them to give you that day off, I swear.” You chuckled, “Please do. I would love to see that happen.”

────────────────────────

You stood in your old room at your parents house, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked so different to the girl you were 10 years ago when you graduated high school. Your face looked pale in the reflection and your eyes lost the spark they once had. In the pictures glued to your mirror they were so full of life, of ambition. You were so excited for the future that was to come, not fully realizing that the path you choose to take will be harder than you and anyone else back then could have imagined. Nonetheless, you were proud of yourself and still excited to do what you do. You just wanted to finally be done studying, work in an office outside the hospital until you had enough to open your own, give care to mothers and young girls and whoever else has to go to a Gyno. The way to get there would be hard but so worth it. It was your dream after all. You opened your bag and fished for your makeup pouch, applying generous amounts all over your face. The blush you stole from your mother gave you a bit of color back. You were staying at your parents house, since it was a lot closer to the event location where the 10 year reunion was taking place. It was weird to sleep in your childhood bedroom. Not much has changed in the last 10 years here. Your parents had enough rooms in the house to not really have a purpose for your room anymore. So they just left it be. All your pictures and trinkets in the places you left them. It was like walking into a different world.

The picture of Sunghoon and you at your high school graduation that was glued to your mirror was fading in the sunlight, the colors slowly losing their vibrance. You reached up and straightened the corners, where the paper lifted from the tape and smiled. Sunghoon was really handsome back then. The way he looked at you instead of the camera made you feel so bittersweet. You always thought he would be the one you would marry, that you would have your first and only love for ever. But life was weird sometimes and it didn’t work out. With the breakup and your life at uni getting more stressful you never really had much time for anyone but yourself and your friends maybe. Dating wasn’t really on your mind for a long time after you’ve overcome the heartbreak. You hoped he did. That today he would come to the reunion telling you about his wife, his kids, how great his life was. He deserved nothing more.

You sighed when the paper curled into itself again and turned around to get dressed. You and Jaemin, and Jeno, who had no choice, spent almost an hour trying to figure out what you should wear and the final verdict was a black pair of dress pants, the only pair of heels you owned for occasions like this, and a red wrap around top with rather delicate silver jewelry. You loved living with Jaemin, it was a lot of fun. The two of you met on your first day of uni and have been inseparable since then. When you and Sunghoon decided to end your relationship he immediately suggested moving together. He was living in the student dorm and was sick of it.

So for the last almost 3 years now, you and Jaemin have been living in a rather beautiful apartment near the Seoul National Hospital. Last year he decided to adopt 3 cats, so now there was almost always a bit of chaos in your home. He got together with Jeno, a student, well back then a student a semester higher than the two of you almost 3 years ago now. They were super cute together, but Jeno decided to do his residency in Gangwon hospital, which meant the two of them didn’t really get to move together until Jeno is done and hopefully gets a job in Seoul.

“Y/N?”, your mother startled you out of your thoughts, “Are you ready yet darling? If you want to be on time we have to go now.” “Oh”, you turned around and looked at your mother, who was standing in the doorway to your room. She herself was attending a dinner with her colleague and an important client from overseas and offered to take you with her. She was styled impeccable, her gray hair in a strict bun and she was wearing a stunning one piece. You could gladly say you inherited her beauty and grace and annoyingly her work ethic. „I‘m done, mom.“, you nodded and grabbed your purse. „Oh look how pretty you look!“, your mom rubbed her hands up and down your arms when you passed her in the doorway. „My beautiful beautiful daughter. Let’s hurry! I don’t want you to be late!“ She ushered you towards the entryway, where both of you changed from slippers into your heels.

────────────────────────

The restaurant that was picked out for the reunion was an expensive looking one. The tables were all covered in thick white cloth, decked with wine glasses and multiple plates. Classical music was gently playing in the background when you made your way inside. The place was already buzzing with laughter coming from various groups at the entrance to the main room, enjoying champagne and the small appetizers displayed on various high tables. You spotted Yunjin pretty quickly. She was talking to Heeseung and Jay, laughing at something she said. You didn’t really keep in touch with either of them after you and Sunghoon broke up three years ago. You all did grow up together but you didn’t want to make it awkward for them by still meeting up with them. And you honestly just didn’t want to know how Sunghoon was doing and you know you would have asked. Which wouldn’t have helped you getting over him. Heeseung spotted you first, waving at you and smiling in your direction. You gave him a small wave back and continued your way through the crowd. “Y/N!” Chaehyun, who was standing a few feet next to them, lit up the moment she saw you, standing to hug you tight. “You look so good! You cut your hair!” “Oh. Yeah. A few months ago,” you mumbled, glancing at your hair.

“It looks fantastic, right? Do you know how long I had to endure her going back and forth about cutting it? Horrible!”, Yunjin whined and wrapped her arms around yours. “I wanted to cut enough to donate it, but it wasn’t long enough, but I also desperately wanted to get rid of the hair”, you grumbled and shoved her away gently. “Did you have enough to donate in the end?”, Chaehyun asked and passed you a flute of champagne from the table you were standing around. “Yeah. I cut around 25 cm off.” “Oh shit thats a lot”, Jake whistled and threw his arm around your shoulder, “Hi Y/N.” “Hi Jake”, you laughed and boxed him into his side to get off you. You and Jake were going back to kindergarten days. Together with Sunghoon you attended kindergarten and elementary school until Jake went to Australia for a few years. The three of you were inseparable up until you and Sunghoon ended things. “My mom told me you're almost done with your residency, will we be calling you Dr. Y/L/N soon?”, he asked and stole the flute out of your hand. You took a deep breath in, “I already am Dr. Y/L/N if I might correct you. I’m done with my residency in a few months and then I have to study for the board certification exam. So some time next year I’ll be done with everything, yeah.”

Just the thought of having to study for that exam made you want to curl into a corner and cry. The amount of stress that came with that exam and working at the same time was nothing anyone looked forward to. “It’s so crazy you are pulling this through. You’ve got my deepest respect for that, Y/N.”, Jake tutted and shook his head. “I’ve always wanted to be a doctor”, you shrugged and smiled at him. “Everyone!”, Daewhi, your former class president, was standing on a stage further into the event location, “It’s lovely to see you all. Please take a seat, as we would like to start with ordering food. You’ll have enough time to mingle later on.” “Let’s go,” Jake pulled you with him toward one of the tables in the middle of the room, where your friends were already walking towards. You settled down next to Jake and smiled at Ningning, who was seated opposite of you. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years since we graduated,” Yujin said, glancing around. “When was the last time we were all together?” Jay answered without looking up. “The funeral.”

Ah. Right. You averted your gaze to look at your hands. “Yeah,” she murmured. “That wasn’t exactly the best time to catch up.” A suspicious looking ring on Ningning's ring finger caught your attention. But before saying anything you let your gaze wander towards Heeseung's hand. He was also wearing a suspicious looking ring. You weren't sure if you just missed it, or if they just didn’t tell you they got engaged, but your heart dropped a bit. “Hey Jake,” you lowered your voice, to not raise suspicion if you just simply haven’t been told, “did Hee and Ningning get engaged?” His head snapped into your direction and then towards the couple, “What?”

“Look at the rings,” you said, having trouble suppressing your smile. Apparently they didn’t tell anyone. “Heeseung what the fuck? You got engaged?”, Jake said excitedly. Heeseung looked up mid-sip of water, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. “Huh?”. “You are wearing a ring!” Yujin leaned in from the other side, eyes wide. “Wait, are you serious?!” Heeseung scratched the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning red. “Well... yeah. We wanted to tell you all tonight.” “You got engaged and didn’t tell me?” Jay looked personally offended. “We wanted to tell everyone at the same time,” Ningning said quickly. “We only told our parents. It’s been, like, three days.” The table erupted in noise, demanding details. You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up. You felt pure relief, knowing that you weren’t the only one who didn’t know. You were never really close with Heeseung and Ningning joined your friendgroup a year after you graduated Highschool, when she and Heeseung got together, so you weren’t as offended as the rest. “Okay, but where did he propose?” Yujin was practically bouncing in her seat. “Yeah, Hee, if it wasn’t romantic I’m gonna be mad,” Jake added with mock severity. Heeseung shot Ningning a sheepish smile before answering. “Her apartment. I brought flowers, cooked dinner, and then... just kind of asked.” Jay snorted. “Classic. That’s the most Heeseung thing I’ve ever heard.” “It was perfect,” Ningning said softly, and the way she looked at him made your chest ache just a little. You smiled again, this time more to yourself, and leaned back in your chair. The second you glanced away from your friends you noticed a very familiar figure making its way towards your table.

Sunghoon looked immaculate. He was wearing a navy suit, with his hair styled neatly and a bag slung over his shoulder. Your eyes met for a second and he gave you a small smile. You returned it almost automatically and then looked back at Ningning who was talking about her parents' reactions, but you weren’t really listening. He made his way over, greeting Jake with a handshake and Yunjin with a hug, then slid into the empty seat next to you without hesitation. “Sorry I’m late,” he said lightly, reaching for a glass of water. “Client wouldn’t stop talking.” “Do they ever?” Heeseung offered. Sunghoon laughed, low and tired. “I don’t mind as long as they keep on paying.” He was immediately informed about the engagement and his eyes lit up excited as he started asking the same questions the couple already answered. You had to almost physically fight the urge to stare at Sunghoon. The last time you saw him was at Jay’s girlfriend's funeral a few months after your break up. A few minutes of excited chatting later, the waiter brought the menus. The whole table quieted down for a few minutes while everyone was deciding on what to eat.

You were flipping back and forth not sure what you wanted to eat when Sunghoon leaned a little closer. “Take the fish,” he said quietly. “You’ll like it.” You glanced at him, surprised. “The fish?” “I’ve been here before. It’s good. Not too heavy either. You’ll like it.” You gave a small nod, lips twitching. “You always did like telling me what to eat.” “You always needed help deciding,” he replied easily, looking at his menu again. A moment passed before he gently closed it and turned towards you again. “So…” he said, “how’s work? Are you still at SN?” You nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t think changing hospital would have changed my workload after all.” “Do you still like it?” he asked with a small hum. You hesitated. Your residence was one of the main reasons why you and Sunghoon broke up. It felt like a touchy topic. “Most days, yes. Some days are just hard. But every job is like that, right?” “Mhm. That’s true”, he turned aback towards the table, reaching for the wine card. “Are you still living with Jaemin?” “Yeah.”, you nodded. “He adopted three cats a few months ago.” He laughed, eyes flicking back to you. “Three?” “Yep. And of course, Kai’s allergic, so I have to deep clean everything whenever he visits.”

That made Sunghoon pause, his brow ticking up slightly. “Kai?” “Yeah, you probably remember him. Tall, really soft-spoken, kinda chaotic. We study together sometimes.”, you shrugged. Sunghoon didn’t say anything right away. Just nodded a little. You tapped the edge of your napkin and glanced sideways. “So… how have you been? With work and everything.” Sunghoon leaned back slightly in his chair, resting an arm casually along the back of yours. “It’s been good. I made partner this year.” You blinked. “Already?” He gave a small smile. “Yeah. I mean, it’s brutal hours, constant travel, and my phone might actually be fused to my hand now, but… I like it. Most days.” You nodded slowly. “That’s… impressive.” There was something oddly comforting about that echo of your own answer. “You started studying for the board already?”, he tilted his head a little toward you. You blinked. “Yeah. I mean yes, I am. How did you…?” “My mom,” he said with a small grin, not even pretending to be subtle. “She keeps me updated. Involuntarily.” “Oh.” You paused, a little surprised. “Right.”

Your mother and his mother were close friends. You forbade your parents to talk about Sunghoon and they have never said anything about him to you. Your mother surely knew he was a partner, with how much his mother flexed with her golden son. “She said you basically live in the hospital.” You huffed a soft laugh. “Oh lord. That comes from my mom. But yeah, she is kinda right. But, what can I say, night shifts pay better.” “Didn’t think she was wrong,” he said, glancing sideways. “After all, these ladies are the heart of the gossip mill in our neighborhood.” “That is right.”, you nodded slightly. The waiter came and took your orders, interrupting your conversation. You ordered the fish. Once the waiter stepped away, Sunghoon leaned in slightly, fingers idly tracing the stem of his champagne flute.

“And your parents?” he asked. “Still working?” You smiled a little. “Yeah. My mom’s been talking about retiring for three years now, but we both know she’d go crazy without it. She seriously has to find a hobby. My dad is still working in the hospital but not as chief physician anymore. He said he was too old for that amount off stress.” Sunghoon laughed quietly. “Sounds about right.” You glanced down at your hands. “I try to visit when I can or go on holidays with them, but it’s... not often. Last time I came down with a fever halfway through and spent most of the weekend in bed. My mom still complains about not having someone who actually takes good pictures around in Venice." “Didn’t know med students were allowed to get sick.” “We’re not. It’s humiliating,” you deadpanned, and he laughed again. You let yourself look at him, really look. His hair was a little longer than you remembered, styled neatly. There was a soft crease between his brows you hadn’t noticed when he first walked in. Tiredness, maybe" “Do you still live around Gangnam?” you asked. “Or did you move for work?” “I moved.” He hesitated. “Actually, I moved back in with my parents. Just a couple months ago.” You blinked. “Didn’t your sister move back in as well?"

“She did,” he said, then glanced down at his watch for a beat too long. “She and her husband divorced last year. But she’s back in Busan now.” “Oh.” You paused, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Sunghoon never really liked his brother-in-law, claiming he wasn’t good for his baby sister. They fought really hard when she told him she would marry him. SUnghoon and Yeji didn’t talk for months afterwards and he was devastated by it. He shrugged lightly, but didn’t meet your eyes. “It’s alright. She’s doing better now.” There was a small silence. “Why did you move back?”, you asked softly. He tilted his head slightly. “Mhm. I was living with my girlfriend. For about a year. We broke up in the spring and I moved into her apartment when we got together.” You felt a soft pang in your heart. As much as you wished for him to be happy, to have found love, it hurt a bit to hear that he actually did, while you were distracting yourself with work instead of tackling your feelings. “Oh. I’m sorry, Sunghoon.” “It’s fine. I am over her, she was nice but…it just… wasn’t working. I was always gone. And when I wasn’t, I wasn’t really there, you know?” He looked at you then, and you knew exactly what he meant. “We were both too tired to argue about it. It felt like a dejavu.” He chuckled softly at that and took a sip of his champagne. A beat passed. “And you? Any boyfriends in sight?”

You glanced toward where Ningning was showing off her engagement ring to Yujin, her hands gesturing animatedly. “Not really,” you said. “I thought about it. Dated here and there. But it’s hard when you fall asleep with your face on a chart at 2 a.m.” “That does sound romantic,” he said dryly. You grinned, a little ruefully. “I’m told I snore.” “I can confirm.” You laughed, eyes crinkling and slightly shoved him. “Hey! You snore way worse than I do.” Before he could say anything else, the lights dimmed slightly and Daewhi stepped back onto the small stage at the front of the room. “Alright everyone! Before the food comes out, we’d like to say a few words...” You both turned toward the front, Sunghoon’s arm brushing yours lightly as he shifted in his seat. As the speeches started, you leaned in a little, voice low. “So… partner, huh? What are you working on currently?”

Sunghoon chuckled under his breath. “Right now? A cross-border IP case. A Korean company’s suing a European firm over design plagiarism, branding, packaging, whole lineup. My team’s handling compliance and preparing expert reports. It’s mostly just emails at 2 a.m. and arguing over clauses in licensing agreements.” You blinked. “That sounds miserable.” He shrugged with a half-smile. “It is. But weirdly satisfying. I kind of like picking apart their statements line by line, figuring out where they copied, what we can use." You tilted your head. “You always did like arguing.” “I prefer ‘debating.’ But yeah. The job’s a lot of drafting, negotiations, risk assessment. We do corporate governance stuff, too! Restructuring, audits, employee protection frameworks. Internal messes that execs don’t want to touch.” He smiled, lifting his glass. “And you?” You groaned. “Don’t even get me started.I honestly do too much in one day to summarize it all. Lots of rotation, many many crying babies and many many grandmas and grandpas that tell me I am doing my job wrong at 3 am when I just helped deliver their grandchild for like 4 hours.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You still don’t sleep much then?” “Not unless it’s at a nurse’s station in an empty hallway,” you said, trying to laugh. “But yeah… third year’s a step up. More decision-making, more pressure. I scrub in way more now. Still supervised, but I’m technically managing my own cases.” “Jesus.” He shook his head, then looked at you. “Also,” you added, leaning back a little, “I have become frighteningly good at drawing blood. I could probably even handle a crybaby like Jake.” Sunghoon gave a theatrical shudder. “Remind me to never pass out near you.” You grinned. “Too late. I already have a target vein.” He lifted his glass in a mock toast. “To poor life choices and me never fainting near you.”

You clinked it lightly. “And to knowing exactly what we signed up for.” “You know…” He ran a finger along the stem of his glass after setting it down again. “I still think it’s kind of insane, what you do.” You blinked at him, head tilting slightly. “What do you mean?” “I mean, yeah, my job’s intense. But I don’t have people’s lives in my hands. No one's bleeding out during a client pitch,” he said, his tone light but eyes sincere. That caught you off guard. You opened your mouth, but he was already continuing. “And…” He paused for a second, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing back at you. “I never got to say it, but, thank you. For what you did for Jay. And you helped with Haneul after.” Your fingers stilled on your napkin. “I just did my job.” “Maybe,” Sunghoon said quietly, “but it was important. To him. And to her.” You looked away for a moment, your throat tightening. “I still think about it sometimes. About whether I could’ve done more. Maybe she would have survived” “There wasn’t more to do,” he said, firm. “You know that." “I do,” you murmured. “But that doesn’t really make it easier.” Silence settled briefly between you. “Jay said you were really good at doing what you do,” Sunghoon added, his voice lower now. “And kind. That you didn’t panic.”

You huffed a small laugh. “That’s because I did the panicking in the locker room after.” He smiled faintly at that. “Still.” Sunghoon shifted slightly in his seat, reaching into his inner jacket pocket. “Wanna see pictures? Jay sends way too many, and I’m not strong enough to delete them.” You gave a small laugh and nodded. “Yeah. I’d love to.” He unlocked his phone, thumb moving swiftly through albums until he turned the screen toward you. “Here, this was last month. She dressed up as a tangerine for kindergarten.” You leaned in, your smile slowly growing. “Oh my god… she’s huge already. And her hair’s gotten so long." “Right?” He grinned, flicking to the next picture. “This one’s my favorite.”

You let out a soft laugh, one hand subconsciously lifting to your mouth. “Wow. She looks so much like her mom.”

Sunghoon’s smile faded just a little, more fond now. “Yeah.”

You were quiet for a second, watching his screen as he kept scrolling, birthday parties, park visits, messy dinner selfies. Her in a doctor costume, holding a stethoscope upside down.

“She’s really cute,” you said, smile tugging at your lips as Sunghoon tapped through another photo. “She looks like trouble.”

“She is,” Sunghoon said, clearly proud. “But only when she doesn’t get her strawberry milk.”

You gave a small laugh and leaned back a little.

You didn’t say much else, but something in your chest tightened. You were happy for them, you really were. For Jay. For Sunghoon. For this whole, messy, beautiful life they had grown into. You’d just forgotten how far away you’d placed yourself from it all. The waiter brought your drinks and before you even took a sip Sunghoon tsked next to you.

“No Coke Zero?” Sunghoon asked, tilting his head. “Who are you and what have you done with Y/N?”

Your rolled our eyes. “I had three cans this morning.”

“There she is.”

You scowled and hit hid foot under the table. “I had to stay awake. We had a five-hour surgery and the scrub nurse kept humming the same damn trot song.”

Sunghoon snorted into his drink. “Still addicted, I see.”

“You know what?” You raised a finger at him, fighting a smile. “If you mock my Coke Zero consumption one more time, I will curse you out.”

“Oh, have fun with that. I’ll probably enjoy it,” he said with mock gravity. “I’ve heard you curse. It’s like poetry. Angry, caffeine-fueled poetry.”

You leaned in, smiling sweetly. “Park Sunghoon.”

“Yes?”

“I hope your protein shaker leaks in your work bag.”

He gasped, hand to chest. “You take that back.”

“Never.”

“You’re still evil,” he muttered, shaking his head with a grin.

“And you’re still annoying,” you replied, sipping your water, resting, giving him your middle finger like you did when you were sixteen.

“I am actually not drinking too many protein shakes anymore. I’ve switched to actually eating healthy and protein rich meals.”, he said, sounding almost proudly.

Yunjin snickered from across the table. “Now you do. I clearly remember a time where the only thing you all ate was chicken, unseasoned chicken, and protein shakes.”

Jay groaned, slumping back in his chair. “Don’t remind me. I was protein-shaking my soul away for like six months straight.”

“Six months?” Jake snorted. “Heeseung tried to bulk for a year. He was eating boiled eggs between classes.”

Heeseung shrugged, totally unfazed. “And I looked great.”

“You also smelled like eggs,” Ningning added flatly, reaching for her water.

You were shaking your head, your head gesturing accusingly towards Sunghoon. “You were the worst of all of them. I swear to god, if you’d asked me to meal prep plain chicken breast one more time I would have used my anatomical knowledge for some illegal activities.”

He gave a sheepish grin. “I was trying to hit macros. And you yourself claimed to appreciate my biceps.”

“I still have nightmares about our air fryer,” you deadpanned. “There were weeks the entire apartment smelled like chicken and eggs.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Sunghoon said, nudging you gently with his elbow.

“I am not,” you insisted. “You once brought chicken breast to brunch with our parents cause you were afraid they wouldn’t prep anything with proteins in it.”

Sunghoon shrugged, unbothered. “Gains don’t rest.”

“You were unbearable,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed as you gave him a narrowed look.

Sunghoon didn’t even blink. “I was bulking.”

“You were insane,” you shot back. “Do you remember the protein powder in your coffee?”

“It tasted fine.”

“You mixed it with my expensive vanilla almond milk. And you made the entire kitchen smell like dirty socks.”

He grinned. “And yet you still ate my chicken.”

“Because I was too tired to cook my own, you menace”, you said flatly.

You took a sip of your water, the conversation around you dissolving into background noise as Sunghoon leaned a little closer, resting one arm on the back of your chair again.

“I still don’t get how you survived my meal prep,” he said casually, eyes flicking to yours.

You gave him a look. “Oh, I didn’t survive. I suffered.”

He grinned. “That dramatic streak of yours hasn’t changed, huh?" “Park Sunghoon,” you warned, narrowing your eyes slightly, “I swear, if you say one more thing about me being dramatic, I will curse you out so thoroughly you’ll have flashbacks to every anatomy study session I ever made you suffer through.” “Oh, jeez please not. I don’t think I would survive that. You were so mean.” “I was under a lot of pressure!” you said, biting back a smile. “Do you know what it’s like to come home after a 28-hour shift just to find someone boiling chicken again at midnight?” He leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming. “I said I’d do the dishes.” “You never did the dishes.” “I did them… eventually.” “Exactly my point.” He just smiled at you, warm and unhurried.

You exhaled, tipping your head slightly toward him. “Do you still eat like that? Like are you still obsessing over your calories and everything.”

“Sometimes,” he said. “But my mom doesn’t curse me out if I stink up the kitchen.”

You hummed. “Tragic. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

He smirked. “Ah you and your endless compassion.”

“Oh shut up,” you muttered, lips twitching. “I’m about to be compassionate all over your fancy suit.”

He laughed again, quieter this time, and nudged your knee under the table.

“Still so scary,” he murmured.

────────────────────────

Since the reunion, Sunghoon somehow slithered his way back into your life. You’ve seen him at least 3 times in the last month, which is more than the last three years. Probably due to the new outbound clinic you were transferred to being close to your parents house, which caused you, much to your parents delightment, to sleep at home. And considering Sunghoon is living just over the street, meeting him after work was somehow something that happened now.

Today though, you were prepared. You were standing in the kitchen of the venue your and Sunghoons mother rented out to celebrate their birthdays, cutting up a watermelon into bitesize pieces. Your mothers turned 60 last week, yours on Tuesday and his on Thursday and decided to celebrate together, renting out a small hall and inviting a ton of people. Sunghoon was currently carrying boxes of wine to put into the kitchen's cooler. Both of your mothers roped you in to help out preparing the celebration and who were you to say no.

“That’s the last one,” he said, breath short. “The cooler’s full now.”

You huffed a strand of hair out of your face.

“Good. We still need to plate the sandwiches, preslice the cake, move the drink station out front and deck the tables.”

He gave you a sidelong look. “Should we demand hourly payment for all of this?”

“We’re being paid in love, you dumbass.”

He chuckled, stepping around your dad and his, who were currently wrangling a caterer sized metal food warmer. It took both of them to maneuver it through the narrow doorway without crashing into the counter.

You leaned away instinctively to avoid the chaos, and Sunghoon did the same, which brought him just a bit closer to your side of the counter.

“Remind me why we agreed to this again?” he asked, settling beside you and propping one elbow against the metal surface.

“Because your mom is scary,” you muttered, fighting with the watermelon rind. “And because mine is lovely and we love helping her.”

“They could have asked our siblings to come earlier.”

You shot him a look. “Don’t act like you weren’t the one who volunteered to organize the drinks as if you didn't know it meant carrying twelve crates of wine.”

“I thought that was the easier job,” he said, rubbing his shoulder with a wince. “I didn’t want to get my hands dirty.”

Just as he said that a watermelon slice slipped in your hands, leaving a pink stain on your white shirt and arm, when you caught it out of reflex. You hissed and leaned over the sink to rinse off quickly.

“You know we have, like, an hour left for everything? Including changing, right?” Sunghoon said, tossing you a towel as you returned from the sink.

You caught it, half-heartedly drying your hands, looking at the watch hanging on the kitchen wall. “Fifty-five now.”

He groaned. “Perfect. I sweat like a pig carrying those wines inside. I still have to shower.”

You wrinkled your nose, pretending to lean closer. “You should. You kind of stink.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Such lovely compliments you give,” he deadpanned.

You grinned, just a little. A piece of your bun came loose and a strand of hair slipped forward again.

He reached out and brushed it gently behind your ear. His fingers warm against the skin on your cheek.

Sunghoon and you both froze.

His hand dropped the moment it registered what he’d done.

“Sorry–uh. Reflex,” he said quickly, stepping half a breath back.

You blinked, laughing awkwardly. “Yeah, well… I guess I give great compliments.”

You cleared your throat before he could say anything else.

“Anyway,” you said, turning slightly so he couldn’t read your face. “Let’s just carry the rest of the stuff out so we can go shower. Whatever we don’t finish, someone else can do.”

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Before either of you could move toward the trays, the kitchen door swung open.

“Sunghoon,” his mother snapped, stepping inside with her arms crossed. “Why are you standing around while poor Y/N is doing everything? You were supposed to be helping, not loitering.”

You blinked, startled, still holding the towel.

“Oh, no, no,” you said quickly, straightening up and pasting on your best polite smile, you reserved for his mom specifically. “He was just about to carry the platter outside, Aunty. I was making sure he didn’t grab the wrong one.”

Sunghoon blinked at you, seemingly caught off guard for a second. His mom narrowed her eyes.

“Well, don’t dawdle,” she muttered, brushing past him to hover over the nearest table. “We still have to set the cakes out.”

Sunghoon mouthed thank you as he picked up the platter.

You just winked at him and turned back to your watermelon.

────────────────────────

You locked your front door with your clutch tucked under one arm, heels clicking against the pavement. The sun had just started to dip behind the trees, casting a golden wash over the quiet neighborhood. When you stepped onto the sidewalk, you saw Sungoon.

He was walking a few feet ahead of you, dressed in a dark navy suit. One of his hands was smoothing his hair and while the other typed something on his phone. He seemed tense.

You cleared your throat loud enough to make him glance up.

He blinked in surprise, then gave you a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, look at that. Fancy seeing you here.”

You stepped toward him slowly, eyeing the suit. “You still wear suits every day?”

“Sure.”

“You’re rumpled,” you said, frowning. You reached forward, tugging at the slightly crooked collar with practiced fingers. “God, how do you wear a suit every day and still not know how to wear one properly?”

His breath caught just slightly as you straightened the fold, your knuckles brushing his jaw for a split second.

“Your mom would eat you alive if she saw this,” you added, trying to justify why you were suddenly in his personal bubble.

“Thanks for the save. Again,” Sunghoon huffed. “Ever since I moved back, she’s been on my ass non-stop.”

Your brows shot up. “How long are you planning on staying here?”

“Just temporarily,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “My lease ended and I figured I’d take a break from paying Seoul rent. Mistake.”, he huffed, “She’s like: ‘You should be saving. You should get married. You should eat more. You should work less. You should stop slouching.”

You laughed, full and unfiltered. “Your mom is so intense. No offense, but she’s kind of terrifying. Like, how did your sweet dad end up with her?”

He laughed. “Everyone wonders. I think he just blinked and thirty-five years passed.”

You both chuckled as your steps fell into sync.

“She was grilling me earlier,” you said. “Asked if I had any ‘good eggs left.’ I thought she meant for the deviled platter, but nope she meant my ovaries. She told my how my job is so hard and asked whether I plan to freeze my eggs, because she would love me to have some precious kids. I think it came from the right place, but it was still kinda weird.”

Sunghoon winced. “That sounds about right. She still talks about us sometimes. Complains that I let you go.”

You looked at him sideways. “Seriously?”

“She always liked you more than she liked me,” he muttered. “Back when we were together, she used to ask at least twice a week if we were thinking about marriage. Said we’d have ‘sturdy’ children.”

You burst out laughing. “Sturdy? What does that even mean?”

“I think she meant athletic? Or that you wouldn’t let them do the stuff we did as a kid. YOu know sturdy kids. Clever and not trouble maker kids? "I dont know.”

“I probably wouldn’t. We did a lot of shit when unsupervised,” you said, grinning. “But she really did ask you that?”

“Repeatedly. Said she knows if you had my kids, she could more or less flex with her beautiful and clever daughter in law and even prettier kids, since you bring your moms genetics.”

You snorted. “Oh my god. I don’t know if that’s horrifying or flattering.”

“Both,” he said. “Mostly horrifying.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m no longer your ticket to high-functioning offsprings.”

“Tragic,” he said, with a dry smile.

────────────────────────

You hadn’t even made it ten minutes into the party, standing near the table with the drinks, waiting for Sunghoon to finish pouring himself a glass of wine when one of your moms coworkers came up. You recognized her but couldn’t put a name to her face, she certainly has been kinda friends with your mother for a while.

“Oh, Y/N!” she beamed. “Your mom never mentioned you had a boyfriend and such a handsome one!”

You blinked. “Oh no. No, no, that’s not–he’s not my–”

“Sunghoon,” Sunghoon offered, stepping beside you with a polite smile, holding his glass of wine and your glass of juice. “Just a friend. My mom is the other one celebrating.”

“Ahhh,” the woman said, "I was so sure you were. You are in so many of those pictures together.”

You gave your best awkward laugh. “Yeah, I guess we’ve known each other forever.”

“Oh, I can tell,” she said, waving her wine glass toward the giant photo collage near the dessert table. “Look at that one,” She pointed at a photo from your family trip to Oahu. Your two moms beaming in flower leis, both of your dads awkwardly squinting into the sun… and in the middle, on a striped beach towel, were the two of you. You were in a sundress sitting sideways in Sunghoon’s lap, laughing at something he was whispering in your ear. His arms were loosely wrapped around your waist, while your hand rested comfortably on his knee.

"Yeah…” you said weakly, stomach dropping. “Those were… taken a while ago.”

Sunghoon stayed quiet. Just sipping his drink. You could feel the heat rising up your neck.

“We… used to date,” you offered, forcing a smile. “Our moms are best friends. So, you know…”

She nodded. “You don't have much choice to stay friendly with each other?”

You nodded mutely. Sunghoon gave a vague hum of agreement, and then someone called her name from across the room.

“It was nice talking to the two of you.”, she patted your shoulder, winked at Sunghoon, and wandered off.

You exhaled sharply.

Sunghoon tilted his head toward you. “You good?”

You nodded, eyes flicking toward the photo wall. “Yeah. Why did they have to choose that picture.”

He smiled faintly. “Because my mom is still hoping you freeze your eggs so I can give you some sturdy kids someday.”

You bumped his elbow. “Shut up.”────────────────────────

You were lying in your bed, your blanket pulled up to your chin, one arm shielding your eyes from the light bleeding through your half closed blinds. Everything was either too bright or too loud. And the cats kept taking turns climbing onto your chest or pawing at your face in demand of affection.

It was almost 1 a.m. and you were acutely aware that in just under four hours, your alarm would go off. You really, really needed to sleep.

But you hadn’t been able to, not properly, for a few nights now.

Ever since that dinner a few months ago, the old Kakao group chat had burst back to life. The others were texting and sending pictures what felt like nonstop. For a few weeks now they were talking about going on a trip in the mountains in the South, to relax and just hang out with each other again before the winter started. They were thinking about renting out a house with enough rooms for everyone and their partners. It sounded... really nice, if you were being honest.

But you weren’t sure.

You didn’t know if you could get the time off. You were still in residency, and vacation days weren’t exactly handed out like candy. And at that point you should probably be studying for your board certification like a maniac.

Eventually, you gave up. Tossing your blanket aside, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and shuffled out of your room. You were somehow too tired to sleep and too restless to stay still.

The apartment was dark, the only light coming from the kitchen. You padded in barefoot and found Jaemin hunched over the microwave, heating up leftover curry. He was still wearing his scrubs and his hair was a mess.

You stood there for a moment, just watching him. Then, without a word, you stepped forward and dropped your forehead onto his back.

“Jesus,” he jolted slightly, startled. “You scared me.”

You didn’t say anything, just stayed there, your face pressed between his shoulder blades. He let out a breath, softening immediately.

“Long day?” he asked, turning around and opening his arms automatically.

You nodded and stepped into the hug, arms wrapping around his middle. He smelled faintly like antiseptic.

He held you for a moment, rubbing a slow hand up and down your back. “You’re warm,” he mumbled.

You nodded into his shirt.

“Can’t sleep again?” he asked after a beat, his voice gentle now.

You pulled back slightly but didn’t let go. “My friends from school are planning. In October.”

Jaemin leaned back just enough to look at your face. “That sounds fun.”

“It does,” you admitted. “But I don’t know if I can get the time off. And even if I do... I should probably be studying.”

“You’ve been studying since July,” he said, deadpan.

You sighed. “I just… don’t know if I can justify it.”

He gave you a look.

“Take your books with you. Study there. Wake up early and do your flashcards while everyone else is making pancakes or whatever. I am sure no one would be mad if you did a bit of revising.”

You pressed your forehead against his collarbone again, muttering, “I’ll think about it.”

He smiled into your hair. “You always say that.”

“Because I always do,” you mumbled.

The microwave beeped, and the smell of curry wafted up between you. He reached behind you blindly to open it, still holding you with one arm.

“I’ll warm you some up too,” he said, already grabbing a second bowl.

You just hummed and just closed your eyes not moving from where your arms were wrapped around his torso. He set the curry down on the counter with one hand and petted your hair softly with the other one.

“You know,” he said slowly, “you were so excited when you came back from the reunion. You kept talking about how good it was to see them again, how you missed this version of yourself. How you didn’t realize how much time had passed until you were sitting next to them.”

You blinked, but stayed silent.

“So don’t pretend like you don’t want to go,” he added, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You do. You just feel guilty about it.”

Your silence must’ve been answer enough, because Jaemin gently pushed you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes properly.

“You’re allowed to miss people,” he said, softer now. “And you’re allowed to want something that isn’t hospital walls and emergency pages and OB rounds at 3 a.m. You can take your books. You can wake up early and study. Hell, you’ll probably shame everyone into feeling productive.”

That earned a small, reluctant laugh from you.

“But you can also sit on a porch with your friends and a cup of tea and just be for a few days,” he said. “You’re burning yourself out againat this rate, Y/N. You deserve a break.”

You looked down, chewing on your bottom lip. The idea of a break sounded so nice it almost hurt.

He tilted his head and gave you a knowing smile. “And don't pretend like you're not already halfway convinced. You wouldn’t be standing here with your head on my spine at 1 a.m. if you weren’t.”

“Traitor,” you muttered.

He grinned. “Guilty.”

You huffed, then finally gave a slow nod.

Jaemin slid a bowl across the counter toward you and sat down beside you, spoon clinking lazily in his curry.

“I mean,” he said between bites, “if I play my cards right, pull a few strings here and there… maybe sweet-talk your boss…”

You snorted. “You’ve never even met my boss.”

“I’ve seen him once. He looks like the type who caves when someone brings good snacks and compliments his hairline.”

You gave him a look. “He’s bald.”

“Exactly. Low bar.”

You rolled your eyes, but the edge of your lips tugged upward despite yourself.

Jaemin shrugged. “Just use like… two vacation days. Plan your night shift compensation properly. Worst case, you stack five NICU shifts and hate yourself for a week?”

“But wouldn’t I hate myself during the trip then? You know, the week after five NICU shifts?”, you asked, blowing the curry on your spoon, to cool it down slightly.

He grinned into his food. “When don’t you hate yourself tho? I’m just saying: go. Take the trip. Drag your flashcards along, torture everyone with study sessions if you must. But don’t skip it. You’ll regret it.”

He was right. You would regret it. You would regret missing out again. But you couldn’t let that be a distraction. You didn’t look up, but your voice came out a little smaller. “What if I get behind?”

“You’re already ahead. You’re always ahead. For God's sake I haven't even bought the books I’ll need Y/N. You started two months ago. And you still have 7 to go.”

There was a long pause.

Then you murmured, “Okay. I’ll ask.”

Jaemin smiled, finishing his last bite. “Good girl.”

You lifted your head just to smack his arm with your spoon.

He winced dramatically. “Are you assaulting your emotional support roommate? Unbelievable.”

“Three cats are my emotional support. You just do the dishes.”

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Then let me earn my keep and make sure you don’t work yourself into an early grave.”

────────────────────────

You were taking your time walking home from work a few weeks later. You were stationed at an outbound clinic near your parents house this week again. Half of that clinic's staff was sick with Covid and the hospital stationed some of their residents there. So you decided to stay over at your parents house, sleeping in your old room and helping your mom babysit your niece for the weekend. You'd been spoiled with warm dinners and unsolicited affection all week as well. Honestly, you weren’t complaining.

You were walking slowly, enjoying the last beams of sunshine when you noticed Sunghoon walking past you. His jacket was slung over his arm and he was typing furiously on his phone.

You accelerated your speed, stepping in sync next to him: “Sir, do you perhaps live in this neighborhood? I'm in dire need of directions, I might be a bit lost here.”

He flinched and his head snapped into your direction.

“Jesus, you just scared the shit out of me, Y/N.”, he said, breathless, holding his phone against his chest.

“Sorry Sunghoon,” you laughed and padded his shoulder.

“I am afraid I can't offer you directions though. I might be equally lost right now. It seems like we are in dire need of a guide, that guides us towards a certain gs25 to buy some ice cream, perhaps?" he said, raising his shoulders in faux confusion.

“Oh! I think I saw a particular gs25 on my way here, but I am afraid I really want to get home! It appears like my niece has been brought to my mothers and I really want to cuddle my very adorable niece, perhaps an ice to go?”, you nodded and walked backwards up the hill.

“That’s a noble excuse,” he said, adjusting his bag and shifting his jacket to the other arm. “But would you accept delivery instead? My mom’s in a bad mood today and if I stay home any longer I might spontaneously combust.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. I suppose if you’re fleeing maternal wrath, I can offer sanctuary. My mom will probably force-feed you soup the second you walk through the door.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said, grinning as he fell into step beside you.

────────────────────────

The second you stepped through the door, your mom peeked around the corner from the kitchen, eyes lighting up.

“Y/N-ah! Oh, you brought a surprise with you!” she said, hands still dusted with flour. “How lovely!”

You sighed dramatically, kicking off your shoes. “I found Sunghoon on the street and had to rescue him.”

Your mom tutted but looked pleased. “Come in, come in. Look at you! So skinny! You need to eat something.”

She reached up without warning and patted his cheek affectionately, like she used to when you were teenagers. Sunghoon just blinked and let it happen, offering a half-bow and a sheepish smile.

“Hi, Aunty. Sorry to show up uninvited.”

“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here,” she said, already turning back toward the kitchen. “Sit, sit! I just made some jeon. Do you still like that?”

"Sure, Aunty!", Sunghoon said and took off his shoes.

You followed her into the kitchen. “Is Gaeun awake?”

Your dad’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Fell asleep about an hour ago. She’s still out cold.”

You groaned, deflating and turning back to walk to the living room, where she usually slept and played when she was over. “Ugh. I wanted to shower her with kisses. Telepathically tho. I am not about to get her sick.”

Sunghoon followed you. “Didn’t spend enough time with babies today?”

You shot him a look. “Not the cuddly kind.”

He raised a brow as you crossed to the blanket pile on the couch and gently peeked in at the sleeping baby. “Weren’t you at the clinic today?”

“Outbound rotation,” you said. “Lots of prenatal consults. It’s mostly OB-GYN. So yeah technically babies but unborn babies.”

“Ah,” he said. “Makes sense.”

You knelt beside Gaeun and ran your fingers softly through her hair. “She’s my one and only baby though.”

Sunghoon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Do you have another niece I missed out on?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Just Gaeun. Which is why she’s getting spoiled for life. Everything she wants she will get from her cool aunt Y/Nie.”

“She’s lucky.”

Gaeun shifted in her sleep, one chubby fist curled near her cheek.

“She’s literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, doing your best to not wake her up.

Sunghoon crouched beside you, resting his arms on his knees. “You say that every time you see a baby or a dog.”

“Because it’s true every time,” you said, gently pulling her blanket up. “Look at her cheeks. I want to bite them. Is that weird?”

“A little.”

You gave him a side-eye. “She smells so good as well. I would die for her.”

He laughed under his breath. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m in love, Sunghoon. You wouldn’t understand.”

He just shook his head, smiling. “You’re completely gone.”

“She’s going to grow up thinking I’m the cool aunt who brings stickers and inappropriate snacks and teaches her to lie about bedtime.”

“Which… would be accurate.”

“Exactly.”

You watched her for another long beat, her tiny chest rising and falling steadily.

“She’s going to be such a menace,” you whispered fondly.

Sunghoon’s voice was quieter now. “With you as her guide? No doubt.”

"Hey I am not that bad of an influence," you protested, brushing one finger over the babies soft cheek.

"Yeah. Jake and I totally didn't have to cover for you whenever you did something stupid at school. You were always a lawful student," Sunghoon chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. "Looser. At least I had fun."

From the kitchen, the smell of jeon drifted in, followed by your mom’s distant voice calling your name.

You sighed, standing up and stretching. “Alright. Let’s go eat before she decides we’re both too skinny and starts force-feeding us.”

Sunghoon followed you out of the room, glancing once more at the sleeping toddler.

────────────────────────

The four of you sat around the small kitchen table, your dad pouring more makgeolli into his cup, while your mom fussed over whether Sunghoon had eaten enough rice. The overhead light cast a golden hue over everything.

“So, Sunghoon,” your dad began, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Are you still working yourself to death?”

Sunghoon let out a small laugh. “Trying not to. But yeah, it’s still busy.”

“Busy is good,” your mom chimed in, but she gave him a narrow look. “But are you eating? Sleeping? The two of you never did when you moved out and were left to your own devices.”

“Mom,” you groaned.

“Don't tell me I am wrong. And now look at the two of you. So skinny and overworked. You should eat another serving Sunghoon, you have to stay strong.”

“I go to the gym 4 days a week, Aunty. I am strong," Sunghoon said, deadpan.

Your parents started grilling him with questions you were pretty sure they already knew the answers to. It was coming from a good place and very lighthearted though. After all, Sunghoon had practically grown up in this kitchen so it was a given they wanted to hear from the man himself where he was now in life. You couldn’t count how many times he’d skipped out on dinners at his own house to crash yours instead.

He answered patiently, a bit sheepish but not uncomfortable. You could tell he didn’t mind it, really. Not here.

By the time your dad had moved on from work questions to retelling the same story about your high school prank war for the third time, Sunghoon had finally settled deeper into his seat.

His sleeves were rumpled now. He’d unfastened the top button of his shirt at some point and rolled his shoulders back, laughing at something your mom had said about his childhood appetite. The tight line at the edge of his jaw had softened. His posture was less perfect. He looked younger.

You couldn’t stop watching him.

It wasn’t intentional, you weren’t even sure what had pulled your gaze back to him in the first place. You couldn’t stop thinking how familiar it all felt.

How natural it still was to have him here.

Like nothing had changed at all in the last ten years.

And maybe, in some ways, nothing had. Your parents still looked at him like he was the son they never had. Your mom still offered him second servings before anyone else. He still used the honorifics around your dad even though he’d been told not to twenty years ago. He still looked like the same boy who had come over three or four nights a week in high school, when his own house, despite being spotless and felt… cold. Unforgiving.

Sunghoon had always been the golden boy: top grades, varsity athlete, polite to a fault. Your teachers loved him, which was why he was able to get you and Jake out of sticky situations almost easily back when you were in highschool. He was admired by everyone. You couldn't remember a single person that didn't like him. But at home, he had never been enough.

You’d seen it yourself, how tense he got when his mother called. How he flinched slightly at praise, like it was a test he had to pass again. How he learned to be charming because being himself was never quite the right answer. You hated his mother for doing that.

He could’ve brought home the moon and his mom still would’ve asked why it had craters.

And yet your mom loved him the second you brought him home at age 5. She gave him as much food as he wanted, gave him all the attention he needed, and came to every skating event, even if his parents couldn’t make the time. She somehow managed to get off work, every time, sitting in the bleachers of those ice rinks cheering for SUnghoon together with you. She had treated him like a teenage boy deserved to be treated: not perfectly, just kindly.

He was laughing at something your dad said, his hands working though the perfectly styled hair, messing it up in the progress.

That was the version of him you fell in love with so many years back.

Not the one in suits. Not the one fielding client calls at eleven. Not the one sitting in meeting rooms with the weight of a multi-million euro deal in his jaw.

But this Sunghoon.

The one who grinned with his whole face. Who passed side dishes to your dad before being asked. Who muttered sarcastic little asides only you would catch. The one who used to steal bites from your plate and fall asleep on the living room floor with his head resting against your knee.

The version of him you thought you knew forever. The version you thought you would always have.

You were different now too, older, sharper. Always tried and always rushing. Every time you saw him now, which was admittedly only 7 or 8 times over the last months, he seemed stressed and tired.

Sunghoon looked over, just briefly, catching your eye mid-laugh.

“What?” he asked, mouth still curled into a smile.

You blinked, startled. “Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m digesting.”

He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, but let it go.

You glanced down at your plate, heart suddenly too full and too tired at once.

So much had changed.

And yet sitting here, in your moms kitchen, her ugly table cloth spread under your dishes and you wondered if maybe not everything had.

Just then a sharp wail echoed from the living room.

You were already halfway out of your chair. “It’s okay, I got her–”

“Y/N, sit–” your mom began, but you were already waving her off.

“I got her,” you said again, grinning as you darted out of the kitchen. “My favorite niece is calling for me!”

Sunghoon chuckled as you practically sprinted down the hallway.

In the living room, Gaeun’s face was red and scrunched, tiny fists balled up near her cheeks, her cry high-pitched and frantic.

You knelt beside her, scooping her up in one smooth motion, pressing soft kisses to her temple.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you whispered, rocking her gently as you reached for the bottle your mom had prepped earlier. “You’re hungry, huh?”

She latched on instantly, her cries quieting between gulps.

You sat down with her in your lap, humming softly under your breath as she fed, your hand gently stroking her soft hair.

From the hallway, Sunghoon leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed, watching quietly.

“Impressive diagnosis, Dr. Auntie,” he said softly.

You turned to look at him, bouncing Gaeun gently. “Years of clinical experience. And also I just… really love her.”

He tilted his head slightly, watching you cradle the tiny baby. “I can tell.”

You smirked. “Why do you sound surprised?”

“I’m not,” he said, but his voice had gone quieter. Softer. “You’re just… good at this.”

You glanced down at Gaeun, who had started to calm a little, blinking up at you with watery eyes.

Sunghoon didn’t speak for a moment, he came over and lowered himself onto the sofa next to you. When he did speak again, his voice was softer than before. “You’ve always loved kids.”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Still do.”

He nodded slowly. Then, without looking at you: “You used to say you wanted three.”

You laughed under your breath. “I did. I also said I wanted a dog that talks and a husband who bakes soufflés.”

He smiled at that but didn’t respond.

After a moment, you added, quieter: “I don’t know. The older I get, the more it feels… unreachable. Like even if I wanted a kid right now, I couldn’t. I’ve spent so long working toward this career… I’m just now getting to the part where all of it might pay off.” You took a breath. “Having a baby would derail everything.”

“That’s so sad,” he said quietly. “You always wanted this.”

You didn’t answer right away. Just rocked the baby gently and let the silence stretch between you.

After a few beats you glanced at him sideways. “How was your day?”

He groaned lightly and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Oh, you know. Same circus, different set of clowns.”

You raised a brow. “That bad?”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Not even surprising anymore. I spent my whole morning fixing a report someone else screwed up, then got blamed for responding ‘too bluntly’ in an email. And someone scheduled a meeting over lunch. Again.”

“That’s cruel.”

“It should be illegal,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t mind the job. Honestly, I like it. I worked my ass off to get here. It’s just…some of these people make me question humanity.”

You laughed. “That bad, huh?”

He turned to you with a dry smile. “If natural selection applied to PowerPoint formatting, I’d have peace.”

You snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I wrong though?”

You shook your head, a little smile playing on your lips. “No. Just dramatic.”

His tone softened then. “But really... I’m lucky. I know that. I’ve got a solid team, good salary, stability. I just wish I didn’t have to babysit full-grown adults while pretending to care about their feelings.”

You nodded slowly, gaze dropping to the baby in your lap. “Sounds exhausting.”

“It is. But…” he paused, voice dipping into something more honest. “You kinda just accept it. Like, this is what it looks like. Being a grown-up.”

You were quiet for a second.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

You both sat in silence for a bit, the baby sleeping peacefully in your arms now.

“You know,” Sunghoon said after a long moment, still gazing at the crib, “your mom… she really did take me in like a son.”

You turned to look at him.

“I don’t think I ever said it out loud, but I’m so grateful for her. And for your dad too. They’re such–” He paused, trying to find the right word. “They’re just… really good people.”

Your heart tightened a little. He wasn’t the kind of person to say things like that unless he truly meant them.

A beat passed before he added, more quietly, “And you… you’re turning out just like them, you know?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. You opened your mouth, unsure of what to say, but before you could respond, your mom’s voice came from the hallway.

“Sunghoon-ah, my son,” she called warmly, stepping into the room in her worn slippers and a floral apron still tied around her waist. “I’m heading to bed. You should go home too, it’s getting late, you look tired.”

Sunghoon stood, his posture straightening instinctively. “Yes, of course. Thank you for having me.”

She waved him off, already moving to turn off lights and tidy a stray cushion. “Oh, don’t you worry about that! Come over more often, please, even if Y/N isn’t here.”

She paused in the doorway, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re getting too skinny again. Tell your mother to feed you properly.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll let her know.”

With a soft goodnight, your mom disappeared down the hallway, the floor creaking familiarly under her steps.

The room was quiet again, save for Gaeun’s slow breathing.

Sunghoon turned to you, his smile lopsided, softer than before. “Guess I better go before she packs me leftovers for the whole week.”

You grinned, standing to walk him to the door. “You know she probably already did.”

At the door, he slipped on his shoes and turned back toward you.

“Thanks for letting me crash dinner.”

“No worries,” you said, leaning against the frame. “You apparently needed it.”

He nodded, then paused, as if he wanted to say something else, but didn’t.

Instead, he gave you a little wave. “Night, Y/N.”

“Night, Sunghoon.”

The door closed with a quiet click.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway.

You looked down at Gaeun, now snuggled against your chest, fast asleep. Her tiny breaths warmed the fabric of your shirt.

After a few minutes, you brought her into your childhood room, gently lowering her into the crib your mom had set up earlier. She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake.

You stood there for a moment, just watching her, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the little sigh she gave as her fingers curled near her cheek.

Then, slowly, you turned and climbed into bed.

The ceiling hadn’t changed. Neither had the faint sound of cicadas outside the window or the way the floor creaked when someone walked down the hallway.

But you had.

And lying there, in the same room you used to stay up in texting Sunghoon under the covers, you felt the quiet ache of time slipping past.

So many things had changed.

And yet tonight, for just a few moments, it had felt like nothing had.

You turned onto your side, pulling the blanket up over your shoulder, your gaze drifting toward the crib in the corner.

“Night, Gaeun,” you whispered

────────────────────────

You were sniffling slightly when you stepped into your apartment two months later. It was quiet except for the soft clicking of claws on the hardwood floor when Luna wandered to the door to greet you. Her fur was soft against your hand, when you squatted down to pet her. “Hi love.”,you whispered and nudged her head against your palms, purring loudly. You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath before standing up again. You dropped your bag in the door, only taking out your water bottle and empty bento box. The hallway mirror catched your attention when you looked up again. Your eyes were puffy, skin pale, your once neat braid now slipping out of its tie and clinging to the back of your neck.

Jaemin was right, you did get 4 days off, but you did hate yourself a bit. Five nightshifts in a row was almost as bad as it got, but you got to spend your time in the NICU so it was even worse. You were used to the intensity of the NICU, as it was one of the stations you worked most frequently, but today had just been a horrible shift. You lost two babies. Both were premature and it was almost clear from the start that their tiny bodies were too weak to fight for long. You had been the one to talk with the parents.

You hated that part most. Hated the way their faces crumbled when they realized what you were about to say, how it somehow had gotten to be so normal for you that the words weren’t stuck in your throat anymore, how you now had enough experience with grieving families to stay professional.

Your stomach growled loudly and you groaned because you knew you wouldn’t have time to eat anything. Jay would be here in less than thirty minutes and you still had to shower and finish up packing the rest of your clothing. You figured you could ask him to stop at a rest area on the way and get something to eat and a coffee there. Afterall, the others wanted to hike today so kaffeein sounded reasonable to keep you awake.

You rolled your shoulders back and padded to the bathroom. Setting the water to the coldest temperature you could bear, you quickly washed off the hospital. You didn’t even bother applying makeup or properly styling your hair, only blowdrying it. You said yes to this trip because everyone kept telling you it would be good for you. A break. A reset. But right now, standing barefoot and with wet hair in your bedroom, the idea of spending four days around people felt more overwhelming than comforting and refreshing.

You got dressed anyway. Jay would be there soon, and he was punctual to a fault, even at 7:30 am.

You pulled on a random hoodie that was draped over your chair and sank down on your bed for a second. The hoodie still faintly smelled like Kai, who had borrowed it to you after you forgot to bring a jacket to the library and he had insisted you wear it on your way home to avoid getting sick. You really should text him again.

For a second you thought about calling your mom, telling her how or anyone you were just tired and wanted to sleep, how you wanted to come home to her having cooked lunch, how you just wanted to spend time with her but it was early and she always rushed through morning phone calls with too many things on her plate. Your dad would probably be mid-surgery prep, he was the one who understood you the best at the moment, having gone through this exact process already. Yunjin would understand, or pretend to, but you’d see her in a few hours. You didn’t want to drop all of this on her before the trip even started.

And Jaemin had been running on empty lately too. He and Jeno were going through a rough patch at the moment, with Jaemin spending his time working or studying, just like you were. It was hard for other people to understand, the constant pressure to be working perfectly and Jeno wanted to get at least a bit of his boyfriend's attention and time, which Jaemin just couldn’t offer right now.

At least the cats were here.

Lucy had followed you from the bathroom. The second you laid back, she jumped onto the bed and curled up beside your hip like a small, warm stone. The other two weren’t far behind, hopping onto the foot of the bed and stretching out without a care in the world.

You reached out and gently scratched behind Luks ears. The silence of the apartment settled around you, soft and heavy. You closed your eyes for a second, trying not to think about the hospital or the certification. Just anything else.

You stayed there, curled up with your cats, waiting for your body to gather just enough energy to stand again. You still had to pack. Jay would be here soon. You’d feel better once you hit the road and were under people again. Being alone never did you any good.

A few minutes after you finished packing the rest of your clothing and fed the cats. You grabbed a mask and a cap, anything to make your puffy face feel a little less exposed, slung your laptop bag over one shoulder and wheeled your small suitcase out the door.

The elevator was empty on your way down.

Jay’s car pulled up a few minutes later. You straightened a little as he stepped out, smiling that big, comforting Jay-smile that hadn't changed since high school. His girlfriend was in the passenger seat, stretching backwards to hand Haneul, who was sitting in a booster seat, a piece of apple. Sunghoon sat next to her in the middle seat. He waved at you and you plastered on a tired smile.

“Hey,” Jay said as he popped the trunk. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, lifting your suitcase in before he could. “I came straight from the hospital.”

He blinked. “You serious?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Did you work a night shift?”, he asked while closing the trunk door.

“Man, I worked five nightshifts in a row for this trip. Just to see all of you losers.”, you joked as you followed him around the car, sliding into the seat next to Sunghoon. Before you could greet any of the others Haneul screeched: “Kitty!”

“Kitty?”, you said, blinking at her and then Sunghoon, who was looking at the toddler with an equally confused face.

“Kitty!”, she just said again and pointed at you.

“Oh.”, Sunghoon laughed lowly, “On your hoodie.” He gestured to the two cats that were printed on the front of your hoodie. “She really loves cats.”

“Oh.”, you said and smiled at the child, “Yeah kitties, you’re right Haneul.”

Sunghoons whole side was pressed into yours in the tight space of the backseat of the car.

“Good morning Y/N,” he said softly.

“Hi,” you answered just as softly as you adjusted your bag in your lap.

“Y/N, this is Seol,” Jay’s girlfriend turned around from the front, a warm smile on her face.

“Nice to meet you,” you said quickly.

“Yeah! It’s so nice to finally meet you as well! I’ve been told a lot about you by the rest.”, she said and laughed gently.

“Only good stuff I hope!”, you nudged Sunghoons shoulder with yours.

“Nah I exclusively told her about how you are an awful cook and are obsessive about cleaning and hate chicken.”, he shrugged and smirked.

“Okay Seol. Those are lies and he is exaggerating. I can cook decently and he is just as obsessive with cleanliness!", you exclaimed and punched him this time.

Everyone laughed and Jay threaded the car into the morning traffic.

“Is it okay with you if I sleep a bit? I just came from a nightshift and I am really tired.”, you asked shyly after a while.

“Oh no no. Just sleep, we will wake you when we are there.”, Jay said and lowered the volume of the radio, which was currently playing kids songs.

“Okay, thank you,” you nodded and rested your head against the cold window.

────────────────────────

You stirred as the car slowed to a stop, the rumble of the tires on gravel pulling you halfway out of sleep. A moment later, a hand brushed your shoulder and gently nudged you awake. You blinked one eye open.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon said softly. “We’re at a rest stop. Do you wanna stretch, pee, get something to eat?”

You squinted at him, brain lagging behind. “Mhm,” you mumbled, not even sure what you were agreeing to.

He huffed a quiet laugh, and the sound made you smile for a split second before your eyelids slid shut again.

“I’ll get you something,” he said under his breath, already maneuvering himself out of the car. You caught a glimpse of him awkwardly twisting his long legs past Haneul’s booster seat on the other side before the door shut with a thud.

The warmth of his body left with him.

You must’ve dozed off again, because the next thing you knew, the door creaked open, cool air slipping inside. Then something cool and plastic pressed lightly against your arm.

“Hey.” His voice was closer this time. “Here.”

You blinked up at him, disoriented. Sunghoon was standing just outside the car, holding out a plastic container and a bottle of water. His hair was a little messy from the wind, his sleeves pushed up.

“Will you let me in? I really don’t feel like climbing over Haneuls seat again”, he said, shaking his head.

You groaned. “Ugh. Yeah. Gimme a sec.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and made your way outside of the car, taking the bowls and the bottles Sunghoon was holding. He climbed in and waited for you to hand him your breakfast back before returning to your original position.

He handed over the lower plastic container. The lid was already cracked open slightly. It was an acai bowl. The same one you used to get back in med school when you had early study mornings. He bought them every time he went grocery shopping, picking out the bananas for you, because he knew you didn’t like them. You glanced down. No banana slices, not a single one. His bowl had what looked like an excessive amount of bananas inside.

You didn’t say anything. Just swallowed quietly and dug the spoon in.

The car started rolling again, Jay humming along to some pop song on the radio, and Haneul giggled as Sunghoon tried to open her triangle gimbap without tearing the nori apart. You ate slowly. The fruit was tart and cold, the granola soft but still sweet. It settled your stomach a little. When you were done, you capped the empty container and leaned forward, slipping it down onto the floor near your feet.

“Thanks,” you murmured, eyes half-lidded again.

Sunghoon gave a small hum of acknowledgment, still focused on cleaning sticky rice off Haneul’s fingers with a napkin.

You let your head fall back against the seat, eyes drifting shut again. You didn’t notice when your head tilted to the side, bumping softly against the firm line of Sunghoon’s shoulder.

────────────────────────

“Y/N,” a voice said softly near your ear. “We’re here.”

You blinked awake, your vision was slow to adjust as you realized your head was resting on something warm.

Oh no.

You jerked upright, barely catching yourself with your hand against the door. Sunghoon’s shoulder was right there, where your cheek had been. Heat rose fast in your chest and flushed up your neck.

“I- ” you stammered, brushing hair out of your face, “sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

He just laughed quietly, unclipping his seatbelt. “You were dead asleep. It’s fine.”

“But I-seriously, I didn’t realize I-”

“Y/N.” He looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Shut up and get out. We both know you needed the sleep and I was not about to wake you because you used me as a pillow. ” He slid out of the seat with practiced grace and stretched his arms out. “I would have if you drooled on me tho.”

You nodded, flustered and still not fully awake, but you managed a muttered, “Right. Okay. Thanks.”

Outside, the mountain air was noticeably cooler than the air in Seoul. The morning fog hadn’t lifted completely yet, and the gravel crunched as you all moved toward the house you rented. Haneul was skipping ahead to Seol, her tiny backpack bouncing with every step.

The house was bigger than you expected. It was a two-level cabin-style place with warm wooden siding and wide windows.

The house had enough rooms for each couple…and one for you and Sunghoon. Yunjin and Ningning both offered to room with you while Sunghoon slept in their room with Heeseung or Taesung. You declined, not wanting them to be forced to sleep in a room with you when they could be spending time with their partners just because you might feel a bit awkward. For the record you were feeling a bit awkward but this was also the ninth or tenth time you saw Sunghoon after breaking up. But not awkward enough to switch rooms, that's for sure.

You followed, a step behind Jay and Sunghoon, your own suitcase rolling quietly over the gravel. At the base of the staircase, Sunghoon paused again and turned halfway to you. His voice was lower this time, not as even. “Um. You want me to carry yours up?”

You blinked. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

He nodded once and started up the stairs with your suitcase anyway, the quiet creaking under his steps the only sound for a moment. The hallway upstairs was lined with doors, the floorboards creaking softly under your steps. Sunghoon led the way, peeking into rooms, mumbling under his breath about finding the one with two beds. When he finally found it at the end of the hall, he stepped aside so you could see inside.

"Looks like this is us," he said, nudging the door open.

Two single beds, pushed against opposite walls, faced each other. A shared dresser stood between them, and soft afternoon light filtered in through gauzy curtains. You stepped in and dropped your backpack on the closest bed with a sigh.

“Man,” you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and letting yourself fall face-first into the mattress, “I’m so tired I might actually cry.”

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle behind you, the familiar sound making your shoulders unclench just a little.

“Then sleep,” he said, dropping your suitcase beside the dresser and his own against the far wall. “No one’s gonna judge. We’ve all been in the car for hours, and you came straight from work.”

You rolled onto your back with a groan, one arm over your eyes. “No, no. It’s fine. I’ll just power through.”

“Y/N,” he said flatly, crossing his arms. “Sleep. I am not dealing with a grumpy you just because you want to prove a point.”

You cracked one eye open and squinted at him. “I’m not grumpy.”

He gave you a look. “Y/N.”

“What?”

“Sleep.”

You huffed and repeated yourself. “I’m not grumpy.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Right. You’re worse than a toddler.”

Your jaw dropped. “Liar.”

“I’ve dealt with an actual toddler. Extensively. Believe me. I know the signs.”

You grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his head. “You absolute menace.”

He caught it midair, smug as ever. “I lived with you for almost seven years. You were sleep-deprived for at least four of them.”

“Exactly, and I was very pleasant.”

“You were a hazard.”

You squinted at him. “Say that again and I’ll smother you with your pillow tonight.”

He just laughed, tossing the pillow back at the foot of your bed. “If you don’t sleep, I swear I’ll lock you in this room and take your phone and laptop with me.”

You stared at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

He raised a brow. You narrowed your eyes. Then flopped back down dramatically with a heavy sigh. “Fine.”

“That’s what I thought.”

You rolled onto your side, hugging the pillow. “Maybe I was a toddler. But you still loved me.”

There was a pause.

“Shut up and sleep.”, he threw the pillow back at you and it hit your back with a dull thud.

You smiled into the blanket, smug despite the exhaustion. “That’s what I thought.”

“Seriously, Y/N. If you don’t pass out in the next five minutes, I’m calling your attending and request sedation.”

But you didn’t argue further. You curled up properly, pulling the blanket over your shoulder and tucking your legs in. The bed was soft and smelled faintly of laundry detergent and cedarwood. The last thing you registered before sleep pulled you under was the quiet creak of the door as Sunghoon stepped back out. ──────────────────────── You had no idea how much time had passed when you felt the full weight of another person slam onto you. “Wakey wakey sleeping beauty.”, Jake whispered in your ear. “Jake,” you groaned, voice muffled into the pillow. “Get off me.” “I missed you too,” he said cheerfully, wiggling around on top of the blanket and fully ignoring your attempt to shove him off. “Congrats, you’ve been selected for a special mission.” “What,” you grunted, “the hell are you talking about?” “Grocery run,” he said, as if this was the most exciting thing ever. “You, me, and our favorite law nerd.” You pried your eyes open. “Jake. Move your fat ass.” “No can do,” he sang, “not until you confirm your participation.” You growled something unintelligible and tried to sit up anyway, managing to half-shove him off as you groggily blinked around the room. It was brighter now, early afternoon, probably. You felt puffy-eyed, warm, and absolutely not ready to deal with Sunghoon or Jake or any decision-making. Still, you sighed, stretched, and got up. “We were picked in a fair game of rok paper and scissors and Yunjin lost for you. So we’re going to emart.”, Jake grinned and watched how you tried to shake yourself awake. “Fine. Whatever.”

Jake grinned and clapped like a seal. “Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty.”

────────────────────────

The glass doors slid open with a cheerful chime, and you immediately veered off to grab a shopping cart.

"Okay, let’s be efficient and quick," you began, only to slow down as you reached the ramen aisle. "Actually… should we grab some for Heeseung?"

Jake perked up immediately. “Oh yeah, let’s goooo.”

Sunghoon groaned behind you. “God, not again. This is gonna be just like that trip to Sokcho, isn’t it? Where you and Heeseung lived off Shin Ramyeon and triangle kimbap for three straight days?”

Jake grinned. “Those were elite meals.”

You snorted, grabbing a couple packs. “You two are actual menaces. There’s a toddler on this trip now. No one’s living off processed soup. I will feed her and anyone else who might want to participate healthy and nutritious meals.”

Sunghoon nodded solemnly. “Y/N is right. We have to be responsible adults now.”

Jake blinked. “You literally bought Haneul cereal with marshmallows inside.”

“Okay, and?” Sunghoon raised a brow. “I was totally planning on having an overly excited two year old running through my flat.”

You whacked the handle of the cart gently with your hand. “I swear to god, if either of you tries to feed Haneul overly processed sweet cereal on this trip i will murder.”

“She liked it!” Jake argued.

“She’s two!” you shot back, exasperated. “of course she would like Lucky charms!”

The three of you kept bickering your way through the aisles, Sunghoon and Jake tossing in snacks and frozen dumplings while you tried your best to balance out their food choices with fresh produce and at least two kinds of leafy greens.

Eventually, as you neared the checkout, Sunghoon slowed near a display stacked with colorful plushies and plastic toys.

“Ha-neul would love this,” he said, reaching for a giant bubble wand shaped like a bunny, which apparently made fairy noises when used.

“Nope,” you warned, grabbing the cart tighter. “Absolutely not. Put it down.”

“But–”

“Sunghoon.”

“She’d be so happy–”

“She’d also swing that thing like a sword and decapitate one of us.”

“Honestly, I’d accept it,” Jake said, nodding solemnly. “I’ve lived a full life.”

You sighed. “You two are impossible.”

Sunghoon, completely ignoring your scolding, tossed the wand back dramatically like a child denied his favorite toy. “You’re no fun.”

“And you,” you said, pointing at him with a cucumber, “want us to not be able to sleep cause Jay's already very loud and energetic toddler has a very loud and annoying toy, Sunghoon.”

Jake just laughed, loading the conveyor belt with ramen packs.

────────────────────────

“You holding up okay?”

You were slumped a little in the back seat, elbow propped against the window only paying half paying attention to their conversation. “Dude,” you said, rubbing at your eye, “I am so tired. I’ll probably go to bed before Haneul tonight.”

Jake laughed a little and Sunghoon piped in: “She fell asleep in the car and snored.”

You shot him a look so sharp he should’ve bled. “Okay, stop.”

He raised his hands in faux innocence, grinning. “Just saying.”

You groaned and pointed accusingly at both of them. “Sunghoon snores like a fucking chainsaw and Jake, you do too. So if I might have quietly snored a little after crying my eyes out because I had to tell two parents their baby died–” Your voice cracked for half a second, and then you snapped your mouth shut, looking out the window. “I get a pass. Okay?”

It was silent for a long moment.

“Yo, what the fuck,” Jake said softly.

You didn’t look back at them. “Let’s just not talk about it, yeah?”

There was another beat of silence, filled only by the soft sound of the radio playing another overplayed song. You really wanted to change the topic, Jake and Sunghoon would definitely never not talk about it so you had to distract them somehow.

“You know what,” you said, reaching for Sunghoon's phone, which was resting on the middle console, “This radio channel is shit I will now be the DJ of our ride.”

Sunghoon gave you a side glance. “I won’t listen to any of your musical songs right now. I can’t handle Hamlet while driving a car full of idiots.”

“That’s because you have zero taste,” you shot back, unlocking his phone. His pin hasn’t changed since high school, it was his sister's birthday. “We’re going full nostalgia today.”

Jake perked up. “Like, high school bangers?”

“Exactly.”

You scrolled through your old shared playlist, the one you all made back in your second year. A beat later, the opening notes of Hello by Joy filled the car, and you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face as you cranked the volume up.

“Oh no,” Sunghoon muttered. “Turn it down before you break a window.”

You ignored him and immediately began singing along.

“You’re throwing off my depth perception,” Sunghoon complained over the music. “I can’t see with you murdering the melody like that.”

“Oh really?” you leaned forward slightly, singing louder now and way off-key on purpose “Hellooooo~”

Jake wheezed but joined in.

“I’m pulling over,” Sunghoon threatened, though there was an unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. “You’re going to get us arrested for noise pollution. Turn the music down at least a bit Y/N.”

“I can’t do that,” you said and shook your head, “but I can switch to the next song!”

The moment Jake heard Twenty-three start playing, he perked up.

“No way,” he grinned, mouth still full of seaweed chips. “Turn that up even more.”

You obliged. Sunghoon groaned audibly. “Absolutely not.”

Too late. You and Jake launched into the chorus at full volume, harmonizing terribly on purpose.

“I’m twenty-three, I’m a riddle~” you sang, leaning toward Sunghoon with a smug grin. “Try to figure me out, boy~”

Jake chimed in with a falsetto, “But you still won’t get itttt~!”

Sunghoon had his head resting against the steering wheel at a red light. “I’m going to crash this car on purpose.”

“Oh, come on,” Jake laughed. “You love us.”

“I used to,” Sunghoon muttered. “Before you both decided to assault me with IU.”

You turned around in your seat, eyes squinting like a grandma. “You used to like this song. You said it was genius lyricism, remember?”

“I was young and stupid.” ──────────────────────── The house was buzzing when the three of you returned. Everyone had already changed into hiking gear, sneakers laced and backpacks slung over shoulders.

“You’ve got ten minutes to change, my loves!”, Yunjin said instead of a greeting when the three of you arrived back.

You groaned playfully. “We’re not even allowed to sit down first?”

“Nope,” Heeseung said, tossing a protein bar at you. “Fuel up and get moving, we don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

Jake was already halfway up the stairs, so you trudged up behind him with Sunghoon following suit. When you pushed into your room, you headed straight for your suitcase, searching for the leggings and the hoodie you brought for going on a hike.

Sunghoon stood awkwardly near the door for a second, “Uh, I’ll just use the bathroom, give you a minute to–”

You cut him off without even looking up. “Sunghoon, you’ve seen me naked like… many, many times.”

He froze.

You tugged out a hoodie and looked up with a raised brow. “In the last two years, not much changed aside from maybe me gaining some weight. Just turn around and change. Even if you peek, I don’t really care.”

He blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, already pulling off Kai's hoodie over your shoulders.

Sunghoon turned around and reached for his suitcase.

You both changed in mostly silence. Mostly, because you started muttering curses under your breath when your sock got stuck in the corner of the suitcase and Sunghoon, still facing the wall, chuckled.

“I heard that,” he said.

“Great. I am glad your ears haven’t lost their function in the last ten minutes.” ──────────────────────── This was a mistake.

You were maybe thirty minutes into the hike and already regretting every life decision that had led to this moment. The incline was steeper than you remembered from Yunjin’s very casual description of the hike, and your thighs were burning. Your hoodie stuck uncomfortably to your back, your water bottle was nearly empty and you still had almost an hour to go, if not more.

You tugged your cap down further, wiping your sweat-slicked forehead with the back of your hand. You were never really a athletic person and considering you’re spending your time studying or working, this ‘small hike up the hill’ was a bigger workout than you anticipated. “Who the hell thought walking uphill for two hours to eat dinner was a good idea?” you muttered mostly to yourself.

Sunghoon glanced back over his shoulder and grinned. He was only a few steps ahead, walking backwards now with infuriating ease.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to see more green.”

“I meant, like. Spinach in my rice. Not trees around me.”

You huffed and slowed a bit more. Your calves were screaming. This was not what people with four night shifts behind them should be doing. You should be home sleeping or studying, not sweating through your hoodie and trying not to trip over exposed roots.

Sunghoon waited at a bend in the path, hands on his hips. “You okay?”

You gave him a flat look. “Do I look okay?”

“Honestly?” He tilted his head. “You look like you’re about to just lie down on the floor and wait until someone is going to pick you up, like Haneul just did.”

You snorted. “I’m wasting precious study time to walk around trees, Park. I have fetal monitoring notes to memorize. Placenta slides to cry over. Meanwhile, I’m out here, climbing hills.”

He laughed. A real, full laugh that pulled his shoulders up and crinkled his eyes.

“Want me to carry you like the toddler you are?” he offered, already half-turning like he might actually mean it. You knew he could and would if you asked.

You waved him off. “Absolutely not. If I’m dying, I’m dying with dignity.”

“Noted.” But he slowed down anyway, matching your pace without a word as the rest of the group drifted further ahead. ──────────────────────── The hike was worth it. The view was ridiculous.

Golden light spilled over the horizon, washing the mountains in soft warmth and making the little patio of the restaurant glow like something out of a movie. The food was incredible, grilled meat, fresh vegetables, jjigae bubbling in the middle of the table.

You leaned back in your chair, a half-full bowl cradled in your hands, and watched the others laugh.

Heeseung and Ningning were teasing Yujin’s boyfriend, who looked overwhelmed but pleased. Jake was narrating a story about a ski trip you did a few years ago to Seol, while Jay kept adjusting the tiny blanket wrapped around Haneul’s shoulders where she was now curled up asleep in his lap, her tiny face smushed against his chest. You felt something crack a little inside your chest.

This was the sort of evening you used to dream about. Group trips with the people you loved most.

You used to think… you’d bring your kid along. You always dreamed of having kids early, to raise them with your chaotic group of friends, just like Jay had.

You blinked slowly, staring down into your bowl of rice.

You really should have been there. You should have taken the time out of your schedule when it wasn’t as stressful as it was now to stay in contact with your friends, to see Haneul grow up. To help Jay whenever he struggled. For god sake if someone knew how to handle kids, or well new borns, it was you. But you felt so guilty that you couldn’t even look Jay in the eyes.

You hadn’t meant to drift so far away. You just… kept choosing work. Kept telling yourself there’d be time later. That after the internship, after year one, after the shift change, after this week of nightshifts… But the weeks had somehow stretched into years.

You looked up, eyes flicking across the table. Jay was murmuring something to his girlfriend, brushing a bit of rice off Haneul’s cheek. He looked happy.

You cleared your throat and reached for the water pitcher, blinking hard. ──────────────────────── Back at the house, everyone slowly said goodnight one after another, apparently drained from the hike up to the restaurant. You moved on autopilot, brushing your teeth, tying your hair up in a sloppy braid, pulling a hoodie over your tank top. Sunghoon was already in bed when you slipped back into the room.

The air in the room was warm, a little stuffy, but somehow very familiar. A faint mix of detergent and something you couldn’t name but had always been his. Just... him.

“Goodnight,” you mumbled, tugging your phone charger to your side of the room.

“Night,” he said, his voice already thick with sleep. And not five minutes later, his soft, uneven snore rumbled gently through the quiet.

You laughed under your breath. He always snored when he was dead tired.

But somehow you weren’t even close to being dead tired.

You laid there, eyes open, staring at the slats in the ceiling. Your blanket was bunched at your waist, legs too warm to be under it, arms too cold to be free. The soft rise and fall of Sunghoons breath should have been comforting, it always was when you couldn’t sleep, but all it did today was echo in your chest. Usually if you couldn’t sleep and Jaemin was home you would have slithered into his bed and tried to fall asleep listening to his heartbeat or his breathing, but you really didn’t want to ask your ex to cuddle you because you couldn't sleep.

God, the whole room smelled like him. That was unfair.

You gave up just before 2am.

Silently, carefully, you slid out of bed, grabbed your iPad from the tote near the door, and crept into the hallway.

The house was quiet. Not the hospital quiet you were used to, filled with beeping and heavy footsteps, but real quiet.

You made your way into the main room and curled up in the corner of the couch, dragging your hoodie sleeve over your hands to warm them. With a sign you opened anki and tried to focus.

Somewhere around half an hour later, your phone buzzed.

Jaemin: The restaurant looks really good. How did they get you to hike up there tho?

You huffed out a soundless laugh.

You: It’s 2:37. Why are you alive.

Jaemin: Nightshift. And I’m on break. Why are YOU alive.

You: Can’t sleep. Again. Brain won’t turn off. So i am studying.

Jaemin: Of course you are. You absolute gremlin. If you are still active on anki when i take my next break ill come to that house and steal your electric devices!

You in fact were still active on anik when Jaemin had another break at 4:30 am but decided not only because he was scolding you, but also because you finally felt exhausted, to sleep. ──────────────────────── The floor creaked under your weight when you tiptoed back into your room. Sunghoon stirred as you slid into your bed again, but didn’t wake up.

You weren’t sure what woke you, the creak of the door, maybe, or the sudden burst of cold air against your legs when the blanket shifted, but the next thing you registered was a high-pitched squeal:

“Uncle Sunghoon!”

You heard the thud of a small weight launching itself onto Sunghoons bed, followed by the sound of tiny feet thumping against the mattress and Sunghoon’s very quick, very groggy, “Shhh, hey. Haneul, not so loud. Shhh.”

You blinked your eyes open slowly. The light in the room was already too bright for how little sleep you’d gotten. Your head ached dully behind your eyes and your limbs felt like lead, every cell protesting the idea of being awake.

Still, a part of you couldn’t help the soft pull at your mouth when you saw Haneul crawling over the covers, tugging at Sunghoon’s sleeve.

“Aunt Y/N is still very sleepy so we have to be very quiet, okay?”, he asked her while sitting up and pulling the giggling toddler into a hug.

“Breakfast”, she said with a bit too much enthusiasm into her pacifier, only to be sushed by Sunghoon again.

“Let’s get some breakfast for you and let Aunt Y/N sleep, huh Haneul? Is that fine for you?”

The toddler nodded enthusiastically and clinged to Sunghoon's upper body when he untangled himself from his blankets.

You didn’t say anything, just pressed your cheek into the pillow and let your eyes close again, heart catching strangely at the sound of Sunghoon’s voice speaking for you.

The door clicked softly shut behind them. ──────────────────────── When you woke up again, it was well past ten.

It was quiet. You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes harshly before making your way into the bathroom on the hallway. It was cold inside, someone left the window open after showering. Soft morning light filtered into the room while you washed your face and brushed your teeth.

The floor creaked faintly when you shuffled into the kitchen. It smelled like food and your stomach grumbled loudly when you saw the plate of fried egg and toast on the counter. A stickynote was glued to the waterbottle next to it: “We took Haneul to the petting zoo! Didn’t want to wake you, you looked exhausted. We’ll be back around lunch. Text if you need anything ♡”

You stared at the note for a moment, rubbing at the sleep still clinging to your face. They left without you. You reached for the note. Somehow you were glad that they let you sleep in but you were missing out. Again. Even though you finally had the time to actually come along. You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts quickly, they meant well. And them not being there until lunch meant you could maybe be a bit more productive than last night. After a long warm shower you actually styled your hair for once, curling the edges slightly and bundled yourself up to go down to the city. The air outside was crisp and smelled like rain when you took a deep breath through your nose. You wandered without much direction, letting your feet carry you past a few small shops before finding a little cafe tucked between two houses. Its windows were fogged up and it seemed like half of the town was squeezed into the little space. The bell above the door chimed quietly when you made your way in. A couple sitting near the window stood up the moment you entered so you settled into their seat as soon as they gathered their used cutlery. You ordered a coffee and one cookie and pulled out your Ipad. You almost didn’t notice the waitress returning with your order, already flipping through your notes. It was almost embarrassing how much comfort you found in pharmacology charts.

Almost an hour later you took a toilet break and used the chance to look at your phone.

Yujin: where u at?? we're back!!!

You smiled a little and typed back a short reply: Y/N At a café. I didn’t feel like staying in the house alone. Thanks for letting me sleep in

Yujin: No worries. It was boring anyway. There were like 3 sheeps and a fuck ton of mud. Haneul was excited tho so it’s whatever She is napping rn and we’re gonna nap as well. She woke the whole house up at 7 am. What do you wanna eat for Lunch later? Jay is cooking

Y/N Yikes. I don’t really care. Text me when you wake up, I’ll come back to the house <3

Yujin:Will do <3

Fifteen minutes passed, maybe twenty, before someone tapped your shoulder. You glanced up, expecting it to be the waitress. But when you turned around it wasn’t the waitress, it was Sunghoon.

His hair was slightly tousled from the wind and he was holding up two cups, wearing that same quiet smile you’d seen on him a hundred times before. One that was more eyes than mouth.

"Hey," he said, setting the drinks down before sliding into the seat across from you.

You blinked. “Hi Sunghoon. What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t feel like sleeping,” he said shrugging. “And I have to work a bit. One of my clients has been sending me emails nonstop. So I figured I could join you.”

“I-uhm- sure,” your gaze dropped to the cup he placed in front of you. It was Yuja tea. Your favorite.

He leaned back in his chair, unzipping his laptop bag. “I swear this client is causing me to grow gray hair prematurely,” he said casually.

You huffed a soft laugh, watching as he opened his laptop. “I know a good hair dresser that could help out with that.”

“Thank you Y/N. I’ll come back to that in a few years.”, he just chuckled.

You stared at him for a second longer than you should’ve before shaking yourself out of it and turning back to your tablet. “I’m sure it will be sooner than later if you can’t catch a break even on a vacation day,” you murmured without thinking.

He glanced at you, eyes crinkling. “Look at who’s talking.”

You didn’t reply, just hummed and pouted at him.

You were halfway through your second set of flashcards when Sunghoon asked, voice soft but curious, “Did you sleep alright?”

You leaned back a little. “Yeah. Thanks for saving me from the Haneul alarm clock, by the way.”

That made him laugh quietly. “You owe me big. She was already so energetic at 6 am, I barely managed to keep her from waking up the whole house. Jay the traitor sent her to us cause he wanted to continue sleeping.”

You raised your brows. “He sent her to us? Why that? How did you manage to keep her quiet?”

“Bribery,” he said immediately. “I promised her the chocolate bread Yujin brought if she let you sleep. And that kid loves me. I am officially the favourite uncle so it's just logical.”

You smiled behind your cup. “You’re a real hero.”

“I know,” he said dramatically, then lowered his voice. “Honestly though, I don’t get how she has that much energy.”

You snorted. “Probably from her mom. Minhee was a morning person afterall. And I mean don’t complain you used to wake me up at the crack of dawn when you went out for a run.”

He gave you a look. “Please. Just cause you’re lazy and an evening person, I don’t have to be.”

“Still am,” you said with a grin. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging,” he said, mock-serious. “I’m just saying I’ve seen you do night shifts on nothing but Coke Zero and mint gum. And suffer when having to go to a morning shift even though you slept a whole 8 hours.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh. “I function just fine, thanks.”

He hummed like he didn’t believe you, then went back to typing something into his laptop.

For a few minutes, the only sounds were the tapping of keys and the soft hum of conversation around you.

It was strangely… familiar. The two of you, sitting in this calm pocket of the afternoon, sharing space again. Studying or working together in silence. ──────────────────────── Almost two hours later Jake called Sunghoon to come back to the house. Everyone, including the actual toddler, had woken up from their nap and they were about to start cooking.

You looked up from your Ipad to look outside. Streams of rain were streaking down the foggy windows.

“Mhm,” you said, wiping the condensation from the window with your sleeve. “Looks like we are going to get a free shower.”

Sunghoon's gaze followed yours. “I think I have an umbrella in my bag. Wait a second.”

He leaned down to lift his laptop bag onto his lap. A small teddy plush was dangling from its handle.

You chuckled and reached forward to turn it into a front facing position while Sunghoon was searching around in his bag. “This is cute. Where did you get that?”

“A colleague gifted it to me for my birthday last year,” he said absentmindedly, “ah ha! Look at that. An umbrella.”

You laughed at him when he triumphantly held it up into the air. “Now nothing is stopping us from eating whatever Jay cooked!”

You both slipped your shoes on and stepped out into the drizzle. The umbrella opened with a snap, and Sunghoon tilted it slightly toward you as you huddled close, bags clutched to your chests.

After five steps, your shoulder was already soaked.

“Can you hold it higher?” you asked, trying to wedge in under the tiny canopy.

“I am holding it higher. You’re just hoarding the dry space,” he shot back, elbowing you lightly.

“Oh, please. I’m sacrificing my entire back right now.”

A gust of wind caught the umbrella from underneath, flipping it slightly and splashing a cold stream of water down both your necks. You shrieked.

You shoved him gently with your shoulder, nearly knocking him into a puddle. “Maybe if you worked out less, there’d be more room under here.”

He snorted. “Don’t blame the broad shoulders. You yourself said my arms are delectable, if i might remind you.”

“I did!”, you said, pressing your side closer into his, “but I didn’t know the consequences of you having a beautiful back and arms would be me being drenched in rain.”

By the time you made it back to the house, your jeans were clinging to your legs, your hair was stuck to your cheeks, and the only dry things were your laptop bags.

You both stopped in front of the door and stared at it.

“Please tell me you have a key,” you said, already knowing the answer.

Sunghoon patted his soaked pockets uselessly. “It’s inside. I didn’t think we’d get locked out in the wilderness.”

You rolled your eyes and reached up to jab the doorbell. From inside, you heard the muffled sound of footsteps and then the click of the lock.

The door swung open and Ningning blinked at you both, horrified.

“Jesus Christ, what did you do?”

Without missing a beat, you shrugged. “Sunghoon and I decided to share a free shower.”

Ningning took one look at the sad excuse for an umbrella dripping on the porch and stepped aside. “You two are a cautionary tale.”

You walked past her with your bag clutched to your chest like a lifeline. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ning, I called dibs on being the first one in the proper shower.”

“I didn’t hear anything about dibs,” Sunghoon protested behind you.

“I made it spiritual,” you called over your shoulder. “Go dry your pretty arms somewhere else.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, kicking his shoes off. ──────────────────────── Jay had cooked enough to feed an army. The whole table was filled with plates and drinks, most of them non-alcoholic, to your surprise. Hanuel had claimed Sunghoons to be her chair of choice for the dinner.

You’d ended up on the far end of the table, half-listening to a conversation between Heeseung and Jake about whether or not a smart fridge was a worthy investment, but your gaze kept drifting. You weren’t even trying to be subtle about it.

Sunghoon had one arm loosely wrapped around Haneul to steady her, the other wielding a spoon with exaggerated precision.

“Here comes the airplane,” he said, swooping the spoon in mid-air. “It’s approaching the hangar! Landing initiated in three… two… one!”

Haneul squealed and opened her mouth wide, clapping her hands when he made a whooshing sound as the spoon “landed.”

You smiled. You just couldn’t help it.

He did it again. And again. Each time with a new variation. Rocket ship. Puppy taxi. Bubble boat. Her tiny body rocked with laughter, head thrown back as he played along, utterly unbothered by the food smeared across her cheek or the rice sticking to his sleeve.

You watched the scene unfold with something warm and gentle blooming in your chest.

It felt a bit bittersweet at the same time. You were a stranger in a room full of uncles and aunties, despite knowing all the uncles and aunties for years, god forbid you even helped her being born, but you were never there. You never gave her a chance to know you as auntie Y/N.

Your eyes stayed on them.

He was so at ease. Smiling, shoulders relaxed, wearing a oversized hoodie, his hair still slightly damp from his shower.

He glanced up once, catching you watching. He gave you a little wave with the spoon before turning back to Haneul.

You looked down at your plate, cheeks flushed, fingers suddenly fidgety.

Jake nudged your elbow. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

Jake hummed and you knew he didn’t believe you. You didn’t believe yourself either. ──────────────────────── After you finished eating and cleaning the dining room, the group gathered in the living room. Haneul had asked if you could watch Cinderella so the whole group decided that, ten adults should somehow squeeze onto the two sofas in front of the TV to watch Cinderella.

Someone had dimmed the lights, and you ended up tucked into one corner of the couch, knees bent, feet slipped under Yunjin’s thighs for warmth. She didn’t even blink, just handed you the end of the blanket.

Sunghoon was on the floor, his back against the couch, Haneul wrapped around him. Her small body had gone lax with exhaustion, one cheek pressed to his chest, her breathing deepening slowly halfway through the movie.

You had your kindle on your lap. You were reading one of the books you downloaded a while ago. It was something sweet and uncomplicated, the kind of story that usually soothed your overworked brain. But tonight, you couldn’t concentrate on the story at all. You signed and closed the book. Your gaze wandered through the room until it was stuck on Sunghoon again.

He wasn’t watching the movie either. His eyes were half-lidded, head tilted slightly toward the toddler, arms looped protectively around her. The flickering light from the screen caught on his lashes and jawline.

Your stomach twisted. Not sharply. Just a soft, odd pull, warm and aching all at once.

He looked good like this. You had such a weak spot for kids and seeing him holding her like that just did something to you.

You ducked your head, trying to focus on your book again. But somehow, your hands wandered. You scrolled past your current novel and opened a medical textbook.

Prenatal Cardiac Anomalies: A Diagnostic Overview.

Somehow the thought of continuing reading through your textbook felt easier than reading a romance novel right now. ──────────────────────── You were tired.

God, you were tired.

But your brain… your brain was still ticking. It didn’t matter how warm the blanket was, how silent the house had gone once everyone scattered to bed. It didn’t matter that Sunghoon was across the room, already passed out, snoring softly into his pillow.

Your eyes stayed open.

You lay there staring at the ceiling for ten minutes. Then twenty. Then maybe thirty. And still, your thoughts didn’t quiet down.

So you slipped out of bed and crept down the stairs to curl up in the armchair in the wintergarden. You told yourself you’d just review a bit more.

Just enough to stop your brain from chewing itself alive.

But ten minutes in, you were still reading the same sentence.

Something about estrogen receptor profiles.

It might as well have been written in Greek. You read it. Then reread it. Then again.

Your fingers clenched around the edges of your iPad, frustration was simmering somewhere between your sternum and your throat. You knew this topic. You’d studied it three times already. Why wasn’t it sticking? Why did your eyes feel too dry, your brain too foggy and your heart too tight all at once?

You didn’t even hear his footsteps until a voice broke through your haze.

“Y/N?”

You flinched so hard you nearly dropped the iPad.

“Jesus,” you gasped, clutching your chest. “What the fuck, Sunghoon.”

He stepped inside, hoodie tugged over his hair, barefoot. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You gave him a look and pouted. “Maybe don't sneak on at me then.”

“Sorry,” he said, coming closer to peer onto the glowing screen. “You coming back to bed?”

You shook your head quickly. “I’m fine. I just…couldn’t sleep.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed gently. “So you decided to study?”

“I had to,” you mumbled. “I didn’t finish everything I wanted to finish today.”

“You studied like 4 hours in that cafe today, Y/N.”

“I know, but I am still behind on my plan, since I didn't do enough yesterday.”

He didn’t say anything to that just let himself sink down on the chair opposite to yours, watching you.

You tried to go back to the flashcards, but your fingers were trembling slightly now. You felt stupid. Weak. Like no amount of time would ever be enough to catch up. Like your worth was balancing on how much you crammed into your already overflowing brain. You did study for hours today, but it felt like nothing stuck. Everything you revised was gone.

“You do this often?” he asked after a while, voice quieter.

You hesitated. “Sometimes.”

“Do you always study when you can’t sleep?”

“Not always,” you murmured. “Sometimes I just… go to Jaemin’s room. Or he comes to mine. It helps. Being around someone. You know.”

He nodded slowly, eyes soft. “I get that.”

There was a long pause.

Then, wordlessly, he leaned forward and gently pulled the iPad from your hand. Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t stop him.

“You’re done for today,” he said.

“Sunghoon–”

“You’re done,” he repeated. “Come on.”

You blinked at him, heart thudding. “But I haven’t finished–”

“I know you haven’t.” His voice stayed calm. “But you look like you’re about to cry and that’s when it stops being useful.”

You stared at him for a second longer. Then finally, with a tiny exhale, you let him take your hand and pull you up. He was right, this was just a waste of time at this point.

Neither of you said anything as you padded through the hallway together. He didn’t say a word as you crawled back into your bed and turned to face the wall and finally let your eyes close.

But you knew he was still awake, laying in the bed across from you. You heard him shifting across the room, rustling his blanket in the process.

After a few moments he softly said your name.

“Y/N?”

He moved again and his bed creaked. “Would it help… if we shared one bed?”

You blinked against the darkness of the room but didn’t answer him. ──────────────────────── You came down later than usual the next morning.

The floorboards creaked under your socks as you descended the stairs, the scent of toasted bread and instant coffee already filling the air.

When you turned the corner, Sunghoon was sitting at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him. His hair was slightly damp and unstyled and he looked just as tired as you felt. His laptop was in front of him, the light reflecting in his glasses and he was frowning at the screen.

“Morning,” Jake offered cheerfully, mouth half-full of toast.

You smiled faintly at him, tearing your gaze away from Sunghoon's figure. He shouldn’t be working right now, he was on vacation. “Morning.”

You moved around the kitchen on autopilot, pouring yourself a cup of coffee and grabbing a plate.

You sat down diagonally across from Sunghoon, not quite opposite, since you knew he didn’t like it when drinks stood behind his laptop. He didn’t look at you, but his foot nudged the table leg once, just enough to make the water in your glass ripple slightly and you look up. He smiled and winked at you. You just rolled your eyes and went back to your slice of toast.

Maybe you should have just said yes yesterday. You knew he didn’t sleep until he was sure you’ve fallen asleep, he never did. He was always too afraid that you would go back to studying if he slept before you did. You did your best and fell asleep shortly after laying down, your body was apparently exhausted enough to just sleep and overpower your ever running brain in the comfort of knowing someone, of knowing Sunghoon, was there. ──────────────────────── The small market Yunjin made you go to was filled with noise and way too many people.

The air was sticky and warm in the alleyway the market was located in, thick with the scent of frying oil and sweet batter, fresh fruit and grilled meat. You weaved your way past a stall selling steamed buns, following your friends. They were trying to find the small samgyeopsal restaurant Ningning found on Naver yesterday. You slowed down a bit to ask Sunghoon if he would like to get some tangerines for his mom. She loved tangerines, especially those from the South of the country, claiming they taste sweeter and better. Whenever you were on trips, Sunghoon and you always brought some for her. You stopped walking when you realized he wasn't behind you anymore, and turned around to scan over the crowd of people. He was a few meters behind you, by the fish tanks, big plastic tubs filled with live octopus and silver fish darting through shallow water.

Sunghoon stood just behind the crowd, Haneul slumped against his shoulder, pacifier in her mouth, red-eyed and sniffly.

She must’ve cried recently, her face was blotchy and her nose was slightly runny. It was pressed against Sunghoon's shoulder, little hands fisted in the back of his shirt. His free hand was gently supporting her back, rocking her ever so slightly as they watched the fish dart around in the shallow water.

You frowned. Haneul had been off all morning, a bit clingier, a bit paler, her usual chatter reduced to sleepy murmurs. The market noise and heat couldn’t have been helping.

“She didn’t want to be set down,” he said when you approached, his voice quiet. “She started crying again when I tried. We even had to get out her pacifier," he grumbled, seemingly unhappy about that fact.

You stepped closer and softly reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of your finger. “Oh no, Haneulie. Don’t cry, pretty girl,” you murmured.

The toddler blinked at you, her lower lip wobbling around the pink piece of plastic in her mouth.

You turned to Sunghoon. “Do you think she’d be okay with a little sugar?”

He glanced down at Haneul, then up at you. “Sure. I’m not her dad. Why would I say no to sugar? We will just give her back to Jay if she has a sugar high.”

You laughed under your breath. “Good point. I'll be back in a second. Don't move.”

With that, you turned on your heel and started weaving through the crowd again, dodging a group of elderly women with shopping trolleys to reach the fried snack stall. You came back with three twisted dough sticks wrapped in parchment, still warm in your hands.

"Here," you said already in motion to hand Sunghoon one of the kwwaebggis, when you realized he had his hands full of a toddler, "I thought you'd like one aswell."

"Thank you, Y/N", he said and tried to lower Haneul to the ground. She made an unhappy noise and strengthened her grip on Sunghoon's Shirt.

He paused mid-motion. “Okay, okay, I got you,” he murmured, adjusting her on his hip again. “No setting you down today.”

Her head dropped against his shoulder with an exaggerated sigh through her pacifier.

“She’s really attached to you, huh?” you asked, watching them both with an amused smile as you tore off a piece of the warm kwabaegi.

Sunghoon gave a helpless little shrug. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this loyalty, but I’m too scared to test it.”

You laughed softly and stepped a bit closer to the two of them. “Look what I got you,” you said softly, holding out a piece of the kwabaegi to the toddler.

She looked at it and shook her head, burying it more in Sunghoon's shoulder.

"Would you like to give me your pacifier to try? I promise it's very yummy, Haneul.", you said, offering the piece again, but she pushed it away with her tiny palm.

You ate the piece to demonstrate to her that it really is yummy. "Mhm. I really like kwabaegi, Haneul. Uncle Sunghoon does too."

He nodded and adjusted her in his arms. "You should really try one, baby. I am sure you'll feel better afterwards."

She just whined a ‘no’ again.

“Look, Haneul-ah,” you cooed, exaggerating your tone, ripping a piece of kwabaegi off and making an airplane motion towards Sunghoons mouth. “Uncle Hoonie says this is soooo yummy. Right, Uncle?”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened for a beat before he caught on. “Oh, yes. Delicious.” He leaned forward slightly and opened his mouth like a child, eyes wide and dramatic. “Mmm! So yummy!” he moaned, chewing the tiny piece you gave him like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

You snorted and ate a piece as well. “See? ”

Then you held out a small piece toward Haneul, who’d lifted her head just a little, eyes watching closely.

“Wanna try, baby?” you asked softly.

She hesitated… then grabbed her pacifier, let it fall to her shirt and opened her mouth.

You placed the kwabaegi gently on her tongue, and she blinked, chewed slowly and then reached for another piece from your hand, a clear sign of approval.

Sunghoon chuckled. “I see how it is. You trust Y/N, but not me.”

“She just knows I am the cooler one between the two of us,” you replied sweetly.

“Thats unfair and a lie. I did the dramatic chewing and everything!”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face as you broke off another bit and handed it to her. Haneul leaned forward eagerly this time, her little fingers brushing yours as she took it.

You fished a small pack of tissues out of your bag and started gently wiping the powdered sugar from the corner of Haneul’s mouth, when the three of you finished your twists. Then you handed Sunghoon the tissue while reaching for her water bottle.

“Here, have a sip,” you said, coaxing the toddler into taking a few careful gulps. She wriggled on his hip but didn’t protest much. She was already visibly more content, cheeks flushed from the heat and her earlier tears, but she was neither pouting nor asking for her pacifier so you took that as a win.

Sunghoon stood still, holding the pack of tissues in one hand and watching you quietly.

You glanced up and caught him staring.

“What?” you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice as you dabbed Haneul’s sticky fingers.

He blinked, then immediately looked away, letting out a small laugh, the awkward kind he did when he was trying to downplay something.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, taking a step back only to bump into a lady browsing dried squid behind him.

“Ah, sorry!” he murmured, half-bowing in apology, before shuffling back toward you with a sheepish wince.

You raised a brow. “Sunghoon. What was that?”

“Nothing,” he repeated, but his ears were turning red.

You didn’t drop it. “Seriously. What?”

He hesitated, then gave a tiny shrug, eyes darting to the toddler in his arms and back to you.

“It’s just… I don’t know.” His voice dipped lower. “That was really cute. You, with her.”

You blinked.

He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, clearly regretting saying it out loud. “I mean…seeing you with kids. Your whole face just lights up. It’s…yeah. That.”

For a moment, all the noise of the market faded.

You swallowed, caught off guard by the softness of his tone, by how gently he was looking at you now.

You cleared your throat, quickly turning back to fish another tissue out of your bag, trying not to read too much into what he just said.

“Well, good thing I’m not completely useless,” you said, half under your breath.

Sunghoon smiled at that and Haneul reached forward again, tugging on your sleeve.

“Aunt Y/N… carry me?” she asked softly, rubbing her cheek against Sunghoon’s shirt.

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “Me?” you asked gently. “Oh sweetheart, I’m not nearly as strong as your uncle. I think he’s better for the job.”

Haneul frowned in protest, her bottom lip wobbling.

“But,” you added quickly, holding out your hand, “I can hold your hand while Uncle Honnie carries you, if that’s okay with you.”

She sniffled once, then nodded solemnly, her tiny fingers curling around yours.

You nodded and smiled at Haneul, who slumped back down onto Sunghoon's shoulder, again, her hand clasped in yours between you.

And when you glanced up, Sunghoon was already looking at you.

Not at the toddler, not at the path ahead. At you.

With a look so full of fondness it nearly knocked the breath from your chest.

You knew that expression. It was the same one he used to wear during study sessions in your kitchen. When you were half-asleep in your shared bed in the morning. When you’d laugh too hard at something dumb and he’d just… stare. Quietly.

Your stomach flipped, and you looked away with a soft smile

Together, with Haneul nestled between you, the three of you made your way back toward the group. And for just a second, your brain jumped to a version of you and Sunghoon where you weren’t carrying your friend's daughter, but your own. ──────────────────────── By the time you got back to the house, everyone was exhausted from hiking all day.

Haneul had refused to let go of either of you since the market. She clung to Sunghoon during the cable car ride, her tiny fingers twisted into his jacket. And when the buggy proved too slow and bumpy, she’d whined until you picked her up, only to eventually find her way right back into Sunghoon’s arms, where she dozed off on his chest for most of the walk back from the skywalk.

Now, sprawled out across the largest sofa, she lay curled into Sunghoon’s chest, half-asleep again, one small hand still gripping yours with determined force. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks pink from the sun, and her other fist clutched the sleeve of Sunghoon’s hoodie like a lifeline.

The rest of the group had put on Knowing Bros, half-watching while chatting quietly, half-dozing through the comfortable hum of the evening.

A heavy weight pressed into your side suddenly and you heard Heeseung grunt, while he tried to get comfortable in the small space between you and Ningning.

“Heeseung,” you groaned, cracking one eye open as you felt your entire side get squashed into the person on your right.

"Just continue sleeping Y/N. I'll just get comfortable here," he mumbled curling around his fiance and stealing part of your blanket you were sharing with her.

“You're stealing my space and my blanket,” you muttered, elbowing Heeseung without much force. There was nowhere to go, except closer to Sunghoon, who didn’t seem to mind when you shifted closer, pressed shoulder to shoulder now.

He didn’t say anything, just adjusted the blanket around Haneul’s little body to cover you as well and let her keep dozing on his chest.

The movie played on, and you decided you’d just keep your eyes closed. Not asleep, just letting yourself rest. You didn't want to fall asleep and miss out. You loved being with your friends, you loved how clingy Haneul was to 'Aunt Y/N' so you were simply resting your eyes a bit.

“Wow,” Jake muttered, grinning. “You two stole Jay’s kid and just… went straight back to being disgusting. Feels like high school all over again.”

Sunghoon huffed, not annoyed, but not amused either. His voice was low, careful. “Can we not do this right now? She’s finally sleeping.”

Jay chuckled. “She didn't get enough Coke Zero today.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon said. You could feel him shift, tucking the blanket tighter around you both. “She isn't sleeping at night. She comes up with us and gets ready and then an hour later goes downstairs to study. I had to talk her into going back to bed yesterday.”

There was a small pause, the only sound in the room coming from the TV.

Jake softly asked: “Is she okay?”

“I mean, yeah,” Sunghoon said. “She says she’s fine.”

“You don’t believe her?”

“I didn’t say that,” he muttered. “It’s just… She’s tired.” “She’s always tired,” Yunjin said gently. “That’s what happens when you work twelve-hour shifts and study during breaks.” “No one would be surprised if she was burned out,” Heeseung added. “Honestly, with the way she pushes herself? She hasn’t slowed down in years.” There was a beat of silence. Then Yunjin spoke again, her voice tinged with guilt: “I kind of hoped this trip would be a break for her. Some actual rest. Not… cramming after we all pass out.”

Your fingers curled slightly under the blanket. You hadn’t meant for them to know. You were just trying. Trying to stay on track. Trying to not fall behind. Trying to not lose the rhythm you’d worked so hard to keep. Sunghoon’s voice was quiet now, something resigned in it. “She just doesn’t know how to stop. She never has." Ningning shifted beside you and whispered, “She’s gonna be okay, right?” Sunghoon exhaled. “She’s Y/N. She’ll keep going. Even when she shouldn’t.” You wished you could say something. Reassure them. Reassure yourself. But instead, you curled slightly closer and let yourself feel what you usually didn’t have time to: the ache of being known and the comfort of being loved, even if it was from behind closed eyes. ──────────────────────── It was past midnight again, and the house had long since gone quiet. The others had woken you up when they got ready for bed and you followed them upstairs, bruising your teeth, washing your face and curling into your bed, trying to fall asleep again.

But sleep just wouldn’t come.

You hadn’t reviewed any of your material today. Not even one section. Not one concept. You should’ve done more.

You needed to do more.

The exam wasn’t going to wait for you to stop being tired. You knew that.

So when Sunghoon's soft snores filled the silence in your bedroom, you silently removed the thick blanket of your body and crept out of the room, hoping he would stay asleep tonight. You felt incredibly guilty for worrying them all, but there was nothing you could do, nothing would help quiet down your head but finishing what you had on your study planner for today.

The soft creaks of the old wood under your feet were the only sounds as you tiptoed downstairs.

You settled on the stairs between the living room and the winter garden, legs tucked beneath you.

You weren’t reading anything. Not really. Just staring at the same sentence for the fourth time, not even blinking.

The door creaked open and you flinched slightly.

You didn’t look up until he dropped beside you on the stairs, a water bottle in one hand, his sweatshirt pulled on backwards.

“I thought you were asleep,” you said quietly.

“I was,” he replied, voice even quieter. “Until I wasn’t.”

You both sat in silence for a minute.

Then, finally, he asked, “Do you know why this keeps happening?”

You stared at your cards, thumb brushing one edge again and again. “I can’t shut it off. My brain. It just… keeps going.”

He just nodded slowly, indicating he was listening, so you kept going.

“After we broke up,” you said, your voice low, hesitant, “I was at the hospital.”

He blinked. “Yeah, I know. You worked there even before we broke up.”

“No,” you said. “Not as an employee. I was in the ER. I fainted during my shift. They diagnosed me with burnout.”

His head turned toward you sharply. “You what?”

“In the middle of rounds,” you said softly. “One second I was standing, next thing I know, I was in a hospital bed with an IV. They said it was burnout.”

“Jesus, Y/N…” he whispered.

You gave a small, humorless smile. “I think I knew it was coming. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

His brows furrowed, his jaw tense.

“It wasn’t just the job,” you continued staring outside. “It was the exams, the night shifts, the pressure, that one asshole attending who made my life hell and still trying to be a good girlfriend and friend. Going on dates, and meeting up with the others.”

You drew a shaky breath. “And then… Minhee.”

His head turned at you but you shook your head, not wanting to look at him.

“That night…” you said slowly. “I think that broke something in me. I’ve never lost anyone before. Not like that. I mean I’ve lost patients yeah. But no one I knew personally. And then suddenly I was holding her hand while her heart stopped. Watching my colleagues trying to save Hanuel's life while her mother was dying right there.”

He closed his eyes.

You nodded. “I think everything that had been stacking up just… collapsed after that. I checked out. I barely remember the two months after.”

He opened his eyes and looked at you, raw and unguarded. “I am so sorry Y/N.”

You didn’t mean to say it, not really, but your voice came out anyway, small and rough.

“I just would’ve needed you back then.”

Sunghoon didn’t move.

You swallowed hard. “Not to fix anything. Not even to do much. Just… a little understanding. I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t care. I was drowning. Studying felt like survival, and everything else, dates, trips, even replying to texts, it felt like walking barefoot through fire.”

His voice was barely above a whisper. “Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?”

“I didn't know how to,” you said. “You were as close to burning out as I was. We barely even saw each other, and if we did, every conversation we had was around school or my residency or we fought.”

You felt him watching you.

“I’ve never stopped worrying about you,” he said eventually, voice thick. “Not once since we broke up. We’ve known each other since kindergarten, Y/N. I thought I knew you better than anyone.”

“You did, probably still do.”

“I didn’t know you were collapsing at work,” he said. “I didn’t know you were–fuck, I didn’t help. I kept pushing you to spend time with me when you clearly weren’t doing okay, and I didn’t even see it.”

“Sunghoon.” You finally turned to him. “You were going through the same thing. You were studying for your bar exam. Your internship. Your parents were on your ass about everything. You weren’t supposed to fix me.”

“I still feel like I should’ve seen it,” he murmured.

You exhaled slowly, your head tipping just enough to rest against his shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said. “It wasn’t mine either. It just… happened. Life just happened.”

There was a long pause until he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t lift your head. You just waited, breath held tight in your chest.

“I missed you so much,” he said, his voice wavering a bit. “And I hated myself for how things ended. For how I let it get to the point where we couldn’t even talk without hurting each other.”

Your throat tightened.

“I knew you weren’t okay. Not really,” he went on, a little steadier now. “And then…then you just… disappeared. Cut everyone off like we were part of the problem. And maybe we were.” He huffed out a short breath. “I asked my mom about you a few times. But I stopped. I didn’t want to get her hopes up, you know how she is. She would’ve started preparing wedding invitations.”

You let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sigh.

He didn’t laugh.

“I just didn’t want to believe we’d gone from everything to nothing. But I didn’t know how to reach you without making it worse. So I stayed away.”

You shifted just slightly, your hand brushing his.

“I missed you too.”

You were quiet once more, letting the sound of rain falling against the windows of the wintergarden fill the silence.

After a few minutes you spoke again.

"I think it's happening again," you said quietly, staring straight ahead. “Me burning out.”

Sunghoon hummed lightly, just enough to tell you he was listening.

You closed your eyes. “My last shift, it was NICU. We lost two babies. Two. I had to tell the parents. And I fucking hate that part. You never get used to it. How could I? Their whole world just…” You exhaled sharply. “It’s gone. And they look at you like you’re supposed to make it make sense.”

His hand found yours and he intervened your fingers, softly squeezing them.

“I love this job,” you went on, voice thinner now. “Or I used to think I did. I love the science, the surgeries, the rush of helping someone survive something impossible. But lately… I don’t know. I feel like I’m barely surviving. Like I’m pretending really hard every day. And no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

A beat passed. Two.

Then you softly continued: “I think I just needed you back then. Even just a little. You didn’t have to fix anything. I just–” your voice caught. “I just needed someone to say I wasn’t crazy for feeling like I was drowning. That I was still me, even when I wasn’t holding it all together. Jaemin does that now. I think it's because he understands the situation I am in the best. He and his boyfriend are struggling a lot at the moment too. Will probably until we had our exam. We're selling our body and soul to work and the bar exam.”

Sunghoon didn’t speak right away. You could hear the sound of him swallowing.

“You should’ve told me,” he said eventually. “Even now. You shouldn’t be carrying this alone. I am glad you're telling Jaemin how you're feeling.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You never were.” He turned his head toward you then, and your gazes met. “Y/N, you were right, we were both breaking back then. I think I was too scared to admit I was burning out and the fact that you weren't saying anything about overworking myself annoyed me. I saw my friends' girlfriends being attentive and making them go out on dates to distract them. I knew you were stressed, I knew it. And I was still pissed you wouldn't look after mw, when I should have probably done that for you, and should have tried fixing our relationship.”

That admission cracked something in you.

You shifted slightly, resting your forehead gently against his shoulder, your voice barely audible now. “I didn’t need you to fix anything. I'm sorry I couldn't be a good girlfriend at the time. I just–I just needed you to stay.

“I’m here now,” he murmured, squeezing your fingers again. You nodded against him. For the first time in years, you actually felt like crying. Your eyes burned, and you blinked aggressively, to stop your tears from falling. You weren’t going to cry. You couldn’t cry. Not again. You were over this, over him. Or at least you liked to pretend you were. But before you could even swallow it back, you heard it, the softest of inhales, the quietest shift in posture. You looked up.

Sunghoon had tears in his eyes. Your breath caught. Not because you didn’t think he’d care–you knew he did. But seeing it… seeing him like that, cracked something clean in your chest. You hit him lightly on the arm, voice a little hoarse. “You crybaby.” His mouth twitched. “Me? Look at you, Y/N. You’ve got, like, two tears in your eyes, while I only have one. ” You let out a half-laugh, wiping your face with your sleeve. “You’re such an idiot.” He smiled. The tension eased, just slightly, and he tilted his head toward the house. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go back inside. Just lie down for a bit. Fifteen minutes, max. If it doesn’t work, you can go back to your flashcards or your mad scientist scribbles or whatever the hell it is you’re doing.”

You gave him a look. “I mean it,” he said, soft but firm. “Just try.” You hesitated. Then nodded. And let him lead the way. You let him pull you back toward the bedroom without protest this time. The cool night air clung to your skin. Your fingers brushed as you walked up the stairs, but neither of you said anything. Inside, the room was dim and still smelled like him, laundry detergent, something clean and woodsy, and a faint trace of his cologne. “Can you…”, you cleared your throat, “would it be okay for you if we slept in one bed?”

“Sure,” he nodded andpulled his blanket of his bed, waiting until you climbed into yours. When he settled beside you, it felt… natural. Not easy, not uncomplicated, but familiar in a way your body remembered even if your mind wasn’t sure how to handle it. You shifted closer, letting your head come to rest on his chest. His arm moved around you instinctively, pulling you in just enough. But under your cheek, you could feel his heartbeat, quick and uneven, a little too fast.

You blinked against his shirt. “Your heart’s racing.” There was a pause, then a small, sheepish laugh. “I’m a little nervous, okay?” You lifted your head slightly to look at him. “I’m in bed with my ex,” he added, grinning softly. “That’s a first. Cut me some slack.” You rolled your eyes and smacked his stomach lightly. “You’re so annoying.” He chuckled low in his throat, the sound rumbling under your cheek. “And yet you still chose my bed.”

“Shut up, Park Sunghoon.” “Alright, alright.” He held up his free hand in mock surrender, then shifted again, settling more comfortably. You closed your eyes again, letting the silence wash over you. You weren’t sure when his fingers started moving again. At first, you barely noticed it. Just the faintest drag of skin on skin, slow, barely-there motions on your back where your shirt had ridden up slightly. You stayed still, breathing shallow and quiet. But then he began tracing shapes. Letters. You tensed slightly.

A straight line… a curve… another curve…

“H.” Your brows knit together in the dark. He was spelling something. “I.” You bit the inside of your cheek. It took all your focus not to turn your head and answer. “S-T-I-L-L.” Still. He paused for a second. You weren’t sure if he thought you’d fallen asleep or if he just needed a breath.

Then more. “H-E-R-E.” Still here. “A-L-W-A-Y-S” You closed your eyes. Squeezing them shut to stop them from watering again. He kept going, slower now. His fingers drifted over your spine, across your shoulder blade, gentle and soft. He traced small hearts once. A spiral. A star. A shaky infinity sign that made your lips twitch the tiniest bit. Your heart pulled in two directions, overwhelmed by how tender it was, and aching because it had ever stopped being normal. You didn’t remember falling asleep. Only that somewhere between the letter R and the little loop he drew beneath your ribs, your mind finally, finally, shut up.

And this time, sleep came easily. ──────────────────────── When you woke up the next morning you were alone in bed. Sunghoon's side was still warm, so you assumed he just got out of bed a few minutes before you. You yawned and stretched yourself before making your way to the bathroom and then downstairs, where you found Jay and Sunghoon on the sofa, Hanuel curled onto Jay's chest watching bluey. "Good morning.", you said, letting yourself fall onto the sofa next to Jay. "Good morning Y/N."Jay greeted gently combing through his daughter's black hair.

Her face was flushed. "Is Haneul okay?", you asked and reached out to put a hand on the toddler's forehead. "She is a bit warm, isn't she." "Yeah she got sick.", Jay mumbled looking down at her with a worried facial expression. “She woke us up twice tonight. Seol spent half of the night down here, reading and watching TV. She is sleeping upstairs now.” “Mhm,” you said touching your and Jay's forehead, “she definitely has a mild fever. Did you bring any medication? I don’t have child approved medication on me, but I could go down to the farmacy?” “Oh. No no, don’t worry about that. I’ll go down by myself when she wakes up again. I just don’t want her to wake up right now, she has just fallen asleep.” “Ah Jay. It’s not a problem. Imma get Haneul the good stuff and she will be up and about in no time.”, you said, lifting yourself from the sofa. “Are the others still sleeping?” “Yunjin and Tae are on a sunset hike and Hee and Ningning are probably still sleeping. Jake and Hyerim are doing god knows what.”, Sunghoon answered, lifting himself enough to look into your eyes. “Do you want me to come along?”

“No it’s fine, Sunghoon. Just continue being a pillow. I know my way around medications.”, you smiled at him and walked back upstairs. ──────────────────────── When you came back from the pharmacy, almost everyone was flopping around in the living room. A rerun of Hotel De Luna was running on the TV, while the others were spread across the living room. Yunjin had returned from her hike and was now tucked into a beanbag with Tae sharing her blanket, both sipping warm drinks. Ningning was sprawled across Heeseung’s lap, sleeping in a seemingly very uncomfortable position. Jake and Hyerim were talking to themselves. The only person who looked truly awake was Sunghoon, who sat in the corner of the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, hair still slightly tousled. He looked relaxed, almost peaceful. You walked in quietly, the door clicking shut behind you. He turned toward the sound instinctively, eyes softening when they landed on you. “Mission successful?” he asked. You lifted the paper bag triumphantly. “She’ll be back to bossing us around in no time.”

A few of the others hummed in acknowledgment, but most were too absorbed in the episode or their own tired haze to respond. A few minutes later, you crossed the room and dropped into the open space beside Sunghoon with a dramatic sigh. You were holding your Kindle in one hand and tugging the edge of the blanket with the other. He didn’t say anything, just shifted slightly. You nestled into the sofa, tucking your legs up and leaning into his warmth. His hand rested loosely around your shoulder. You didn’t say anything, either. Just opened your Kindle and flipped through a few pages of a medical casebook, pretending to read. Truthfully, your attention was split, maybe 30% on the text, and the rest on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way your body fit so easily against his again, the quiet intimacy that still lingered despite everything unspoken. You probably should really speak about what was happening right now, how you just shared a bed for the night, how you almost automatically curled back into him here on the sofa. He shifted once to help you get more comfortable, tugging the blanket up slightly over your legs. Somewhere in the background, IU’s voice echoed through the room, wistful and distant. ──────────────────────── You were half-curled into Sunghoon’s side, Kindle balanced against your thigh, when soft footsteps padded down the stairs. Everyone turned instinctively. Jay was holding a sleepy but clearly stubborn Haneul in his arms. Her hair was flattened to one side, and her cheeks were still flushed, but her eyes lit up as she spotted you across the room. “Oh no,” Jay said dryly. “She saw her targets.” You smiled and waved. “Hey, baby.”

Haneul wriggled immediately, demanding to be put down, and tottered toward the couch with single-minded purpose. You shifted to make space between yourself and Sunghoon, assuming she’d collapse into his lap. But she didn’t. Instead, she reached for you, tugging at your arm with surprising insistence. “Auntie.” You blinked. “Me?” Haneul nodded seriously. “Wanna sit with you.” “Oh,” you said, glancing briefly at Jay, then Sunghoon, who just shrugged. “Okay, come here then.” You lifted her gently into your lap, wrapping the blanket around the two of you as she cuddled in, her body still warm with fever. She exhaled with a small sigh and pressed her cheek to your chest, thumb slipping into her mouth. A few seconds passed before she spoke again. “Read me something.” You laughed softly. “I don’t have any kids books, sweetheart.” “I’ll get one,” Sunghoon said, already pushing to his feet. He disappeared toward the hallway bookshelf and returned a minute later with a battered picture book in one hand and his laptop under his arm.

You adjusted Haneul against your chest and cracked the book open. The toddler watched intently as you began to read in a soft, lilting voice. Sunghoon flipped open his laptop beside you, fingers flying over the keyboard. His brows were furrowed in concentration. You glanced at him once between pages, catching the faint crease between his brows as he focused on whatever email or report had stolen his attention. You weren’t sure if he was even hearing you read, but every time Haneul pointed at a picture or giggled at a silly voice you made, his mouth twitched upward. Your voice stayed low, barely above a whisper. You were careful not to disturb the others scattered across the room. The rain hadn’t stopped outside. It clung to the windows, soft and persistent, like background music. And as you sat there, Haneul tucked into your chest, Sunghoon typing beside you, the slow unfolding of a quiet day, you felt something strange settle into your chest.

A deep, aching kind of comfort. The kind that made you wish time could slow down just a little more. ──────────────────────── Haneul had dozed off again halfway through the story, one tiny hand still clutching your shirt. You eased the book shut, careful not to jostle her, and glanced sideways just in time to see Sunghoon exhale sharply and throw his head back against the backrest. He looked tense. His jaw clenched, one hand still hovering over the keyboard as if he couldn’t quite let go of whatever he’d been typing. His laptop remained open, screen glowing faintly in his lap. “You okay?” you asked quietly. He didn’t answer right away, just ran a hand through his hair, eyes fluttering shut for a second before opening again. “I want to commit murder,” he said flatly. You blinked. “That’s a strong reaction for a children’s book.” He huffed a mirthless laugh, rubbing at his temple. “No, the client I’m dealing with. Complete nightmare. I’m technically marked as absent and yet they’ve decided today is the perfect day to need everything from me. Everything. Like the rest of my team just collectively forgot how to think without me.”

You frowned. “Wait, they’re contacting you now? I thought you weren’t on call?” “I’m not,” he said, voice tight. “But apparently my senior colleagues are allergic to solving things on their own. And this client–” he cut himself off, then muttered under his breath, “not even a fucking day of peace.” You raised a brow at the rare slip in language. “Sunghoon.” “I know,” he said, eyes flicking over to you with a faint grimace. “Sorry. I just–I really needed this trip. I wanted to turn everything off and just breathe, you know? But now I’ve spent the last hour writing emails.” You reached out with your free hand, pressing your fingers lightly to the back of his arm in silent reassurance “I get it,” you murmured. “Really. And… for the record? You’re allowed to be mad. You work harder than half the people I know.” He shook his head slightly, lips curving into something tired. “Coming from you, that’s saying something.” You smiled faintly and leaned back against the cushions, careful not to disturb the sleeping toddler. ──────────────────────── The house had settled into that kind of stillness only rain could bring. Outside, water tapped gently against the windows, and inside, nearly everyone had retreated to their rooms or dozed off somewhere across the couch-filled landscape of the winter garden and living room. The only sounds left were the occasional creak of the old roof beams and the faint hum of Bluey reruns still playing on loop. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

But between the warmth of the blanket, Haneul’s little body curled into your chest, and the rhythmic clacking of Sunghoon’s keyboard across from you, your eyes had fluttered shut. The last thing you remembered was thinking I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute. When you woke again, the light had shifted, softer now, dimmer. Late afternoon. Your head felt heavy against the sofa cushion, and Haneul was still curled into your front, snuffling quietly in her sleep. You didn’t move yet, not wanting to disturb her. Sunghoon was still there. Still working. Still typing. He looked up the moment your breathing changed, gaze softening as it landed on you. “Hey,” he said, voice quiet. “You’re awake.” You blinked at him, still halfway between dream and reality.

He leaned forward and, with gentle fingers, brushed a loose strand of hair away from your cheek. The touch was fleeting but warm, and it made your chest ache in that familiar way. “You should go back to sleep,” he murmured. You made a low noise in your throat, the closest thing to a protest you could muster. “No. I gotta… study. A little.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval, leaning back into his corner of the sofa again. “You’re impossible.” You cracked one eye open. “You’re working too, Park. Don’t throw stones from your glass house.” That earned a small, reluctant laugh from him. “Touché. Without moving too much, careful not to jostle Haneul, you reached to your side and grabbed your iPad, placing it on the throw pillow next to you. Your thumb opened your note app with practiced ease, screen glowing softly in the dim room. You balanced it on your knee and leaned your chin against the top of Haneul’s head.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything more. Just returned to his laptop, fingers dancing across the keys, the occasional sigh slipping through his nose.

Hours later you sat curled in the corner of the bench, legs tucked beneath you and the blanket pulled tight around your shoulders. The rain beat gently against the windows of the winter garden, the soft patter rhythmic and constant. You weren’t sure how long you’d been out there, long enough for your tea to go cold and your thoughts to grow heavy. So much of your life has been made up of early mornings, late nights, bright lights, white coats, cold coffee. And now, watching your friends build lives around you, with children, with partners, with memories you weren’t part of, you wondered if you had ever truly lived at all. Or if you just... worked. You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, knees tucked to your chest, trying to chase away the cold that wasn’t really from the rain. You hadn’t meant to think about the what-ifs again, but somehow, watching Sunghoon be so soft with you and Haneul all day, made you feel nostalgic for something you never had. He would’ve been a good dad. A quiet shuffle of feet behind you made you blink. You didn’t have to look. You knew it was him.

Sunghoon sat beside you, close enough for your shoulders to brush. The bench shifted under his weight. “Penny for a thought?” he asked gently. You didn’t answer at first. Just stared out into the night. “I always thought we’d get married,” you said eventually, voice smaller than you meant it to be. “I thought we’d have a kid by now.” He didn’t answer for a long moment, just let his gaze follow yours into the wet dark beyond the glass.

“I know,” he said. “I thought that too.” You finally turned to look at him. His profile was shadowed, the dim lights of the living room catching in his lashes, in the soft fall of his hair. “I had a whole proposal planned,” he continued. “In Vietnam, you know that trip we were planning? I was gonna pretend we were just taking pictures at sunset, hand you the camera, and when you turned around… I’d be on one knee.” You let out a shaky breath. “That sounds like something you’d do.” “Cheesy?” “Yeah. I would have loved it.” He laughed under his breath. “I thought so.”

You were quiet for a long moment, then said, “I’m sorry.” He looked at you, brows drawing slightly together. “I’m sorry for putting work ahead of everything. For choosing my studies over us. For shutting you out.” You paused, breath catching in your chest. “I thought I could balance it all. But I couldn’t. And then I didn’t know how to tell you that without feeling like I was failing at everything.” His gaze softened. “Y/N…” Your throat tightened and you had to fight the tears already. “I never stopped being proud of you,” he said quietly. “Even after everything. Even when you disappeared on us. I admired the hell out of what you’re doing. You’re literally helping people survive. I could never do what you do.”

You shook your head. “You don’t understand. I’m not–” You swallowed. “Jay. I let Jay down. I let Minhee down.” He turned to face you more fully. “What?” Your fingers twisted into the edge of the blanket. “Minhee. She–” You exhaled shakily. “I know it wasn’t my fault, I know that rationally. But every time I see Haneul, all I can think is… maybe I did something wrong. Maybe if I had caught something earlier or said something–” “Y/N.”

“–or checked her labs again, or called the OB sooner–" “Y/N,” he said again, firmer this time, but not unkind. “You know it wasn’t your fault.” “I do,” you whispered. “But that doesn’t make it feel any less like it is.” He was quiet for a long moment. Then: “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because we had just broken up,” you said. “Like, just. And I didn’t want to burden you. You were trying to move on. And I felt like I was breaking into a thousand pieces. I kept telling myself I deserved it. That I couldn’t hold onto you and try to be this version of myself I thought I had to become. And you had to be there for Jay. His girlfriend just died and he had a newborn at home. And I couldn't bear being around him or her. I was too afraid he thought I was responsible, even if I wasn't.” “I would’ve dropped everything,” Sunghoon said, and his voice cracked slightly. “If I had known, I would’ve been there. No questions asked. Heeseung was there for Jay. Jake was too. His and Minhees parents. I could have been there for you.” You closed your eyes. “I wanted to call you. I did. A hundred times. But I thought… it would just make it worse.” He looked away, swiping a hand over his face. “I hate myself for not trying harder. For not asking. For just letting you go.” You exhaled slowly. “Do you think we would’ve made it?" He paused for a second. “Yeah,” he said. “If we’d had the time.”

Sunghoon was quiet for a moment again. Then he looked at you more fully, like he was trying to find the pieces of the girl you used to be underneath all the weight you carried now. “I never told you this,” he said softly, “but I used to love watching you dream. You were so sure about everything. Med school. Family. How you were going to do it all.” He paused. “Even when I didn’t believe in myself, I believed in you.” You closed your eyes, because if you didn’t you might really cry this time. “You know,” you whispered, “I feel like I’ve been running nonstop. And now that I’m here… I realize I haven’t really lived. I’ve just… worked.” He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. “I wanted to be with you,” you added, more quietly. “But I didn’t know how to let myself stop. Even now, the thought of having free time makes me anxious.”

He shifted slightly. “I think… we were both overwhelmed. I kept thinking it was just a phase. That we’d get through it.” “I should’ve fought harder for you.” “I should’ve known you needed help.” His hand found yours, slowly, uncertainly, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers slid into his, warm and familiar. You turned toward him, your faces closer than they’d been in years. It would’ve been so easy. “We shouldn’t…” you began, voice trembling, uncertain. Sunghoon’s voice was low, steady, but there was a faint, familiar ache beneath it. “You remember when we weren’t supposed to kiss in your room? Back in high school?” Your breath caught.

You nodded, just barely. “We still did.” His lips quirked, but it wasn’t quite a smile. It was something softer. Sadder. Full of things unsaid. “Yeah. We still did.” His hand, warm and tentative, slid up your arm. A slow touch, like he was memorizing the shape of you all over again. Your skin tingled where his fingers passed, your breath tightening in your chest. There was a pause. A heartbeat. Then he leaned in.

You met him halfway. The first brush of his lips was featherlight. A ghost of contact. Barely there. You surged forward without thinking, lips slotting against his with years of yearning pressed into the space between you. His hand rose to your jaw, thumb grazing your cheekbone as he angled his head, deepening the kiss with. His mouth was soft but certain, moving over yours like he already knew how you liked to be kissed, because he did. There was no rush, no hesitation, just heat blooming slow and deep between you as your hands found the front of his sweater, curling into the fabric, anchoring yourself to him. You shifted closer, your knees brushing his, blanket forgotten as your body tilted into his space. One of his hands cupped the back of your neck now, his fingers sliding into your hair, holding you steady as his other hand gripped your waist, grounding you. You made a quiet sound, when his teeth grazed your bottom lip. It had been so long. Too long. You’d forgotten how it felt to be wanted like this. To want like this. When you finally pulled away, your breathing was uneven, lips kiss-bitten and your heart in your throat.

You didn’t move far. Just far enough to rest your forehead against his, eyes closed, trying to gather yourself. “Sunghoon,” you breathed. It was all you could manage. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to–” “Don’t apologize,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I wanted to.” He nodded slowly, his breath warm against your cheek. For a long, fragile moment, neither of you moved. Then you exhaled shakily and leaned into him, your cheek resting against his chest, listening to the quiet thump of his heart. His arms wrapped around you without hesitation, one circling your back, the other rubbing slow, grounding strokes up and down your spine. “Come to bed,” he said after a moment.

Your gaze wandered to your Ipad again. “Y/N,” Sunghoon said again, gently. “Come inside?” You shook your head against his chest. “I can’t.” There was a pause, long and quiet. “I think,” you continued slowly, carefully, “if I lie down now, I might actually go crazy. Just for a bit. I… need to be on my own.” Sunghoon didn’t speak right away. “Are you sure?” he asked, low. You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll come in later.” He lingered for another beat before carefully pushing you off his chest, reaching for the blanket and draping it over your shoulders. “Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll leave the door open.” You managed a small smile, just enough to make him go.

The quiet that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was taut. Sharp. You felt like a wire pulled tight, humming with tension, unable to let go. You didn’t cry or move. You just sat there with your thoughts screaming and the rain falling and the cold slowly sinking in. Eventually, hours later, exhaustion became heavier than the noise in your chest. It didn’t quiet the buzzing under your skin, but it dulled it. You stood up slowly, stiff and aching, and crept back inside. The house was dark and still. You padded past the living room and paused. Sunghoon. He was asleep on the couch, arms crossed, head tilted back awkwardly against the armrest. Your heart cracked a little.

You crossed the room carefully and crouched beside him, brushing your fingers lightly against his arm. “Sunghoon,” you whispered. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.” He blinked awake groggily, frowning like a confused toddler. “Y/N? Are you done?" You nodded, though it was only half-true. “Yeah. For today. Come on, let’s go upstairs.” You rubbed your eyes as you climbed the stairs, limbs heavy, thoughts slow and grainy. Sunghoon followed silently behind you, both of you lit only by the soft hallway light someone had left on. The house creaked with wind and sleep. When you entered your shared room, you automatically turned toward your own bed, but before you even made it halfway, his hand caught your wrist. You glanced back at him. His hair was a mess, his sweater wrinkled from the couch, his eyes soft in the dim light. There was no question in them. Just quiet certainty. The same kind he always used to have when he knew exactly what you needed before you did. He didn’t say anything, but gently pulled you towards his bed. You didn’t even hesitate. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to crawl in beside him. His arms settled around you like they never forgot how to, one draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. You rested your cheek against his chest, his warmth bleeding into your skin. His heartbeat was steady today, unrushed. ──────────────────────── Seoul greeted you with dull skies and even more rain. The drive back had been quiet. Peaceful. Haneul had napped for most of it. You rested too, half-asleep with your head against the window, the lull of the road and Sunghoon’s soft humming lulling you into a strange kind of calm. The car slowed in front of your apartment. Jay helped unload your bag from the trunk while Sunghoon stood by, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, his hair still mussed from sleep. Haneul, finally awake again, reached for you as Jay hoisted her up and you kissed her cheek, brushing her fever-warmed curls from her forehead. “Text me if she gets worse,” you said softly, and Jay nodded. Sunghoon lingered behind as Jay buckled Haneul back in. He didn’t say much, just held your gaze for a second too long. “I’ll see you soon?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. Soon.” There was so much more you wanted to say. But not here. Not now. You gave them both a small wave and turned toward the building. ──────────────────────── The elevator ride up felt longer than usual. You dumped your bag, took a quick shower, and pulled your scrubs out of the drawer. It was already getting dark when you finished meal prepping for your nightshift. Seoul pulsed around you, busy and bright, and for once, you didn’t feel entirely swallowed by it. A few hours later the fluorescent lights buzzed above you, sterile and far too bright. The ward was quiet tonight. You sat at the small desk near the nurses’ station, soft white light illuminating the open binder in front of you. The gynecology wing always had this strange hush at night, even with the occasional monitor beeping, and the distant hum of a cleaning machine. You had just made your rounds, charted vitals, answered two sleepy buzzers, checked one incision site. Everything was fine. Calm. And yet, you felt like you might break. You blinked, slowly. Your limbs were heavy. Not because you were tired physically you were drained mentally. Your eyes wandered toward the window, where the sky was still black and the city lights blurred through mist. This was the life you had built, wasn’t it? Clean. Efficient. Hard-earned. You were good at this. You were doing everything right.

And still. Still, the ache didn’t go away. You rubbed at your eyes and tried to focus on the chart in front of you, but your thoughts slipped back to him.

To Sunghoon. You sighed. Being with him had felt so easy. So natural. His hand against your spine, his voice calling you inside, his quiet laugh when Haneul demanded your attention. His warmth at night.

You swallowed thickly. You had rested. Really rested. And now, sitting under fluorescent lights again, cold coffee untouched, you felt the absence of it so sharply it almost hurt. The thought of going home to your apartment, to Jaemin and the cats, made your stomach twist. You weren't lonely, no.

You were longing. For the life you hadn’t let yourself have. You could’ve had this. You could’ve had him. If only you hadn’t kept choosing the next task. The next round. The next shift. The next exam. You had kept saying later, later, later. And then later became never. Now, in the quiet lull of the gynecology wing, with healthy babies sleeping peacefully just down the hall, you sat and wondered if you had let your whole life pass by in the name of responsibility. A baby cried softly in the distance. You stood, checked your watch, and made your way down the hall with steady steps.

You were good at this. But you weren’t sure anymore if it was enough ──────────────────────── Two days later the taxi dropped you off just past ten pm. You hadn’t even texted ahead. Your body was still aching from your shift at the hospital today. It wasn’t a particularly hard one but you felt drained. You just wanted to go home. But not to your apartment. Not to Jaemin and the cats. Not to the stack of unread medical journals and the untouched laundry. You climbed the front steps to Sunghoon’s house slowly, heart pounding hard enough that you could hear it in your ears. You hesitated for only a second before knocking, not only because it was late, but because what you were going to do might be more than stupid. The door opened, and his mother’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Y/N?” “Hi,” you said, voice smaller than intended. You felt suddenly too casual in your hoodie and jeans, hair still damp. “I… Is Sunghoon home?” She blinked, recovering quickly. “Yes, of course, he just got back from a work dinner not long ago. He’s upstairs. Come in.”

You stepped into the hallway, offering a quiet “Thank you,” before climbing the stairs with shaky knees. You stopped in front of his door and raised your hand to knock, hesitated, but did it anyway. There was a shuffling sound, then the door opened a crack. He was undoing his tie, sleeves already rolled up, hair slightly tousled like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His eyes landed on you, and he froze. “…Y/N?” Your throat tightened. “I–” you started, then stopped. You blinked at him.

You laughed, but it came out broken. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said quickly, words tumbling out faster than your brain could filter them. “I just– I finished my shift, and I was walking to the station and I couldn’t go home, I just– I kept thinking about you, and that trip, and how I felt like I could finally breathe and laugh and sleep for the first time in months, years, really–” You were rambling. You knew you were rambling, but you couldn’t stop. “I missed you,” you said. “I missed you so much it physically hurts sometimes, and I’ve been pretending I’m fine and that my work is enough and that I don’t need anything else, but it’s not true. I miss waking up next to you. I miss fighting over takeout menus. I miss your laugh, and how you always steal my side of the blanket." Sunghoon just stared at you, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry I shut you out. I was scared. I thought I had to be this perfect version of myself and I pushed you away thinking it was the right thing, and now I just feel like I ruined everything.” You looked down at your hands.

“I know it’s not fair,” you said. “And I know it’s going to be hard. I have my exam in February, and things won’t suddenly be easy. But if you’d let me, if there’s even a small part of you that still wants this, I’d love to try again. I want to try to be better. To be someone who doesn’t run. To be your girlfriend again.” You hadn’t realized you were crying until his hands cupped your face. “Stop rambling, Y/N,” he said, voice low. And then he kissed you. All the air left your lungs at once. It wasn’t a desperate kiss, or a rushed one. It was slow. Familiar. Steady in a way you hadn’t felt in months. His lips moved against yours like they remembered every detail. His thumb brushed under your eye, catching a stray tear. When he pulled back, your hands had found their way into his shirt. “I would love to try again,” he whispered, forehead against yours.

You laughed softly, tears still running down your cheeks. “Are you sure? I come with a lot of baggage.” He smiled. “You always did.” You swatted at his shoulder. “Rude.” But his arms tightened around you. “I’m serious,” he said. “I don’t care how hard it is. Or how messy. I just want you. Whatever you can give me, I want it.” You closed your eyes and leaned into his chest. His heartbeat was steady under your ear. “I don’t want to go home,” you whispered.

“Then don’t.” You stood there for a long moment, wrapped in his arms like no time had passed at all. Eventually, he tugged you inside the room and closed the door behind you. “Come on,” he said gently. “You look like you need food and sleep in that exact order.” “I need a lot of things,” you said. “But sleep next to you sounds like a good start.” He gave you one of his shirts, a pair of shorts and a towel, to dry your face after you’ve washed it. When you stepped back into his room, Sunghoon was already under the blanket, hair messy, expression soft. You crawled in beside him and sighed as his arm wrapped around you. His warmth seeped into your skin instantly, and for a long moment, you didn’t move.

“This is so nice,” you mumbled into his chest. “Sleeping next to you.” “You used to complain that I snore,” he said softly.

You smiled. “You do.” He chuckled, fingers gently brushing along your arm under the blanket. A few quiet minutes passed like that. “Your mom’s probably already calling my mom. Bet she thinks there’s finally a realistic chance of sturdy grandkids now.”, you said, readjusting your head on his chest. Sunghoon snorted but then he stilled. And when he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost careful. “Would you want that?” he asked. “Kids… with me?” Your heart gave a small lurch. You blinked slowly, shifting so you could look at him in the dark. His eyes were on you. You swallowed. “Honestly?” You nodded. “I can’t imagine having kids with anyone else.” He exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath. You tucked your face back into his chest. “It’s not something I’m ready for. Not now. I don’t even know when I’ll be ready. But… if it ever happens… I’d want it to be with you.” His arms tightened slightly around you. “If this works out again, really works, I’d love that too. Just not right now. Not while you’re barely sleeping and fighting your way through hospital chaos and studying every free second.” You let out a breath. He wasn’t just saying what you wanted to hear. He meant it. You knew him well enough to tell. “I really would love that,” you murmured.

“I want you to have what you’ve worked for,” he said. “Your dream. Your degree. Your own timeline. I’ll support you through all of it. No matter what.” You blinked back the sudden pressure in your chest and reached for his hand, interlacing your fingers with his beneath the blanket. “Hoon…,” you whispered, not knowing what to say without breaking down in tears. “I’m not going anywhere and I won’t let you ever again,” he promised. And you believed him.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty

all feedback and reblogs are welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ my masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ taglist. @enhastolemyheart @dreamiestay @elairah @vviolynn @engenemilia @xylatox @firstclassjaylee @mangoescrazy @seokjinthescientist @ddolleri

ᝰ an. ₊ ⊹ dear anons, I hope it was alright I mixed your requests and you enjoyed reading the story, even if I might not have encapsulated your request fully! Burnout is a shit thing to experience. If you feel like you are close to burning out, do take a break. Really. Do. No deadline or test is worth your mental and physical health.

1K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 1 month ago

Text

I DUXKING ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS!! 😭🥰🎀💗💯💕💝❤️♥️ WANT MOREEE

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 ! (p.sh)

PAIRING: ex-husband!sunghoon x ex-wife!reader (f)

SUMMARY: sick and tired of their parents always arguing whenever one of them comes to pick ‘em up, yohan and haneul (or haneul and yohan, per haneul’s request) decide to organize a mission and make you and sunghoon fall in love again.

WARNINGS: starring JIHOON (reader’s new bf), fluff, divorced parents, shared custody, mentions of hickeys, insults, anger, fights, making out (jihoon & reader - later hoon & reader), memories, suggestive (barely by the end), mentions of pregnancy, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 15th July 2025

WC: 7.9k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @enhamonsterghoul @star-hoon @princesstiti14 @mintchocoddeonut @lostgirlysstuff

NOW PLAYING: Keep on Loving You by Cigarettes After Sex & The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift

a/n: honestly i had so much fun writing this! i’ve been a little all over the place so sorry if i took some time to finish it 💔💔 please LIKE & REBLOG to spread 🩷 i’m proud of this, the writing course i took in april is paying off me thinks.

You stepped from the elevator onto the thirty-ninth floor, stilettos clicking over marble, so glossy it caught the overhead lights and flung them back in shards of silver.

The corridor outside Sunghoon’s penthouse still smelled faintly of the cedar-and-bergamot diffuser he favored, familiar, irritating and annoyingly comforting.

Your blouse was perfectly ironed, hair swept into a high ponytail, makeup soft but immaculate.

Beneath the collar your scarf hid the blooming marks Jihoon’s mouth had painted along your throat last nighjt, the silk wrapped delicately each time you swallowed, a secret reminder of how fast you’d already moved on.

You rang the bell. The custom steel door whispered open, and there he was: Park Sunghoon, ex-husband, ex-golden boy, barefoot in a charcoal cashmere sweater and sweatpants that draped too casually on a body still honed like a fencer’s blade.

which was unfair, since you had to hit the gym so much to get your body back after pregnancy.

A crooked half-smile lifted one corner of his lips, the exact smile that used to undo you, and still threatened to annoy you into irrationality.

“Two minutes late,” he said, leaning a shoulder to the jamb. “Color me shocked, you’re slipping.”

“Traffic was charitable,” you answered, gliding past him. “Or perhaps the universe felt sorry for me, knowing I’d be dealing with you.”

He gave a low, appreciative hum while closing the door. “Biting already. I Haven’t even offered you coffee yet.”

“God forbid,” you muttered. “Caffeine brewed by your hands might revert me to our marriage counseling days, and we both know how that ended.”

“Explosively.” His eyes flicked to the silk tucked at your neck, lingered just a second too long. The bastard had always been sharp. “New accessory? Striking choice for July.”

You lifted your chin. “Fashion, Sunghoon. Look it up sometime instead of living in sweatpants.”

He laughed under his breath and motioned toward the sun-drenched living room where floor-to-ceiling windows gave Seoul’s skyline center stage.

Lego castles sprawled across the rug, watercolor palettes lay open on the coffee table, brushes soaking in mismatched mugs.

Voices floated from the hallway: one soft and uncertain, the other bright and commanding.

“Haneul, put that down, you’ll spill!” Yohan fretted.

“It’s fine, dummy,” Haneul declared. “I’m strong.”

You couldn’t help smiling. They were your perfect halves, as contrasting and complementary as moonlight and flame.

The moment they spotted you, four small feet thundered over the hardwood.

“Mommy!” Haneul launched herself first, fierce as always, burrowing under your blouse in search of a hug.

She smelled like finger paint and the strawberry shampoo you’d chosen for her at six months old. Yohan arrived a breath later, slower, shy, but his arms slipped around your waist with a familiar sigh of relief.

“Hey, my loves,” you murmured, kissing each silky head. “Did you behave for Daddy?”

“They over-behaved,” Sunghoon said, folding arms across his chest. “I’m thinking of renting them out as examples to other children.”

Haneul stuck out her tongue at him. “We’re only good because we’re awesome,” she announced.

Yohan tightened his grip on your wrist, “We made you pictures,” he said, voice so small you bent to hear it. “I painted a galaxy.”

“And I drew a tiger eating a monster truck,” Haneul added proudly.

“My little artists,” you praised, gathering both creations. Yohan’s painting was good, while you werent really sure which one was the car and which one was the tigér in Haneul’s “These are masterpieces. They’re going on the fridge.”

Sunghoon’s gaze moved from the paintings to your face. “The kids have packed, everything’s by the door. I labeled the medicine for Yohan’s cough.”

A pause, then with exaggerated politeness he said “Should I also forward their pediatrician records to your… new friend? You know, in case of emergencies between making hickey art?”

Heat pricked your ears, but you smirked “Jihoon’s a doctor, actually, I think we’ll manage.”

“A doctor,” Sunghoon repeated, tilting his head “Good choice, someone has to keep you in one piece after you trip over your own pride.”

You arched a brow “Funny, that’s exactly what he said about you, except with more medical terminology.”

Haneul, oblivious, tugged your wrist “Mommy, can we bake cookies tonight? The really gooey ones?”

“Absolutely. Yohan, you’ll help too, right?”

He nodded shyly. “If I can stir.”

“Stirring is essential,” you assured him.

Sunghoon cleared his throat “Hang on,” he said, and vanished down the hallway. The twins scampered into the foyer to collect tiny backpacks, one blue and one purple.

You waited, fingers tracing the ridges of your wedding band’s phantom imprint— gone nearly a year now, yet some days it felt freshly removed.

He returned with two plushies, Yohan’s weathered penguin, Haneul’s stuffed phoenix, plus a zipped folder “Their latest school forms,” he said, pressing the folder into your free hand. “And Yohan’s reading log. He’s ahead of level again.”

You met his eyes, a reluctant swell of pride shared between adversaries “Thank you.”

An awkward beat.

The kind that used to end with a kiss back when the pauses held gravity, not distance.

He broke it first, voice low “They’re good kids because of you.”

“And you,” you granted softly. It was a truth neither of you enjoyed admitting.

Across the room the twins argued about who would press the elevator button.

Their little voices echoed like bells, filling corners once haunted by adult shouting. Your throat tightened, but hadn’t walked into this ivory tower to cry, so you blinked the tears back.

“You okay?” Sunghoon asked, more gently than expected.

You blinked “Peachy.”

He studied you, the way he once did across candlelit tables, conviction that he could read every flicker of thought.

His gaze drifted again to the scarf, and his lips curved, bittersweet “I don’t regret us,” he murmured. “Even if we’re better like this.”

“Better is relative,” you said, checking the time. “And you still owe me half the orthodontist fund.”

“Invoice me, I’ll pay promptly, unlike your boyfriend.” The playful barb slipped out before he could help it. You rolled your eyes.

Haneul appeared between you with the decisive stomp of a warrior princess. “Daddy, hug.”

He knelt, catching her in strong arms.

Yohan edged closer, and Sunghoon embraced him too, kisses pressed to raven hair. “Be good for Mom,” he said, and they nodded. Then his gaze lifted to you. “Text when you get home?”

“I will,” you answered.

This new civility was fragile; you weren’t about to break it.

At the door you paused, adjusting scarf and handbags while the elevator dinged. Sunghoon hovered in the threshold like a man thinking of unsaying things already said.

“Take care of yourself,” he said quietly.

“You too.” You hesitated, then added, “Try sleeping before three a.m. for once.”

“Doctor’s orders, I suppose.” He flashed that maddening crooked smile.

The elevator doors slid open, you shepherded the twins inside.

As the doors closed, Sunghoon raised two fingers in a casual salute. You answered with a small, wry wave.

The elevator began its silent descent. Haneul bounced on her heels “Mommy, can we call Uncle Jihoon on the way?”

“Maybe after dinner,” you said, smoothing her hair.

Yohan tugged your coat, whispering, “Will Daddy be lonely?”

Your chest tightened again, but you kept your voice steady Daddy has lots of things that keep him occupied, he’ll be fine.”

The numbers ticked downward.

You inhaled, catching faint traces of cedar that clung even here, and let them pass.

☆.

Jihoon’s mouth had trailed from the hollow behind your ear to the curve of your collarbone, each slow kiss coaxing a sigh you scarcely recognized as your own.

The loft’s floor-to-ceiling windows framed the late-afternoon light, dusty and gold, and the silk shirt you had worn for brunch lay discarded over the arm of the couch.

Jihoon’s hands explored beneath the lace edge of your bra, thumbs stroking the faint bruises his lips had left the night before.

When he murmured your name you arched into him, fingers threading through his soft brown hair.

“You taste like espresso.” he teased, breath warm against your shoulder.

“You made it too strong.” you whispered, nipping his lower lip.

His chuckle vibrated through both of you. “I make everything strong.”

The slow, building pressure of his body against yours blurred whatever fragile sense of time you’d carried in.

He nudged your knees apart, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your sternum, and you tugged at his belt with impatient fingers. He braced an arm beside your head, gaze glossy with heat. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need—” The sentence dissolved when his hips rolled, and you gasped, half laugh, half moan. “Jihoon, don’t—”

A faint buzz rattled somewhere to the left.

Phone? Table? Call? You ignored it, lifting to meet his mouth again. The buzz returned, more insistent, followed by a muffled ping.

Then another.

Jihoon pulled back just enough to look at you, hair falling into his eyes. “Want me to toss it onto the obalcony?”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Might be the hospital.”

“Fine.” He leaned, snagged his phone, squinted. “It’s yours.” he said when he found no missed call on his.

You frowned.

Your own phone lay face-down on the coffee table, screen pulsing with notification after notification.

When you flipped it, the lock screen lit with Sunghoon’s name… eight missed calls, two voicemails, half a dozen texts.

The last message read at 3:47 PM

Sunghoon: WHERE ARE YOU?

Blood drained from your face.

Pickup was three-thirty.

A twenty-minute cross-city drive in Friday traffic stood between you and the twins.

“Oh God,” you breathed. “I’m late. Jihoon, I’m late.”

He sat back instantly. “What— how late?”

“Half an hour, maybe more if we hit jams.” You shoved into your blouse, fumbling buttons wrong, then right, hand shaking.

The twins had never waited alone— Sunghoon’s anger was one thing, but Yohan’s shy heart twisted at schedule changes, and Haneul’s fierce bravado evaporated when she sensed tension.

Jihoon steadied your wrists. “I’ll drive,

give me the keys.”

“You have a shift—”

“Not till seven, come on.”

You stuffed rumpled hair into a claw clip, found your heels, and snatched your back before quickly bolting out of the house.

While Jihoon locked up, you hit call back. Sunghoon answered on the first ring; the controlled ice in his voice froze your spine.

“It’s four o’clock,” he said, no greeting. “You were due at three-thirty.”

“I know. Traffic—”

“Don’t you dare lie.” A hard exhale. “The twins have been sitting in the lobby with the doorman for twenty minutes because I have a meeting I can’t move.”

Guilt slammed like a wave. “I’m on my way! twenty-five minutes.”

“You should’ve been on your way an hour ago.” The line clicked deadk

Your stomach churned.

In the elevator Jihoon squeezed your hand, lips pressed to your temple. “Focus on breathing. We’ll make every light.”

You half-ran to his car.

jihoon wove through side streets, one palm steady on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh in silent reassurance.

You replayed the last four years in the windshield: the final shouting match with Sunghoon, ink drying on divorce papers, the fragile truce of shared custody.

You’d kept promises; pickups, drop-offs, parent-teacher nights— a flawless record until now. Your eyes stung. Jihoon squeezed again. “They’ll be okay, Sunghoon too.”

“Sunghoon doesn’t do ‘okay., he does perfect schedules and synchronized watches.”

“He can survive twenty minutes of imperfection.”

“He’ll make sure I don’t.”

Jihoon hit the horn, merged ruthlessly. “He’ll snarl, you’ll snarl back, then you’ll take the kids home. That’s it.”

The GPS ticked minutes downward while the sun slid west.

At 4:24PM the logo over Sunghoon’s building loomed like a herald of judgement. You leapt from the car before Jihoon had fully stopped.

Inside, the concierge recognized you and your panic, and gestured toward a leather bench.

Yohan sat small-shouldered, backpack clutched to his chest. Haneul swung her legs defiantly, scowling at every adult in range. The instant they spotted you, mixed relief and hurt flooded their faces.

You knelt. “I’m so sorry, babies.” You wrapped them both close. “Traffic swallowed me whole.”

Sunghoon approached from the elevators, suit jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled to elbows, jaw tight. His presence alone thickened the air.

“Thank Mr. Seo for babysitting,” he told the twins, nodding to the concierge. They murmured thanks.

Then his eyes skewered you. “My office lost a forty-million-won client because I had to sprint downstairs.” His tone remained low, but fury simmered beneath. “You didn’t answer until the tenth call.”

“I was— occupied,” you admitted, heat crawling up your throat.

“With Doctor Perfect.” His gaze flicked to the slight smudge of your lipstick above Jihoon’s collar. “How responsible.”

Jihoon entered then, purposeful but calm.

He offered a slight bow. “Afternoon, Mr. Park. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, the delay was my fault.”

Sunghoon laughed once, sharp. “Chivalry? Cute. It doesn’t un-delay my schedule.” He turned back to you. “If you can’t honor the pickup window, you need to let me know, they sat with strangers.”

“Mr. Seo isn’t a stranger,” you argued, but your shoulders drooped. “I know it’s my fault.”

“Damn right,” he snapped, then seemed to remember the children’s wide eyes and moderated his voice. “From now on, if you’ll be late, call at least half an our ahead.”

Jihoon stepped forward. “We’ll set extra alarms. She truly—”

Sunghoon’s palm lifted, silencing him. “This is between their mother and me.”

Haneul spoke up, fierce loyalty flashing. “Daddy, Mommy said sorry. Let it go.”

Sunghoon regarded his daughter, pride and frustration warring.

Yohan’s hand slipped into yours; his small fingers trembled. You tucked him under your arm.

“I’ll make it up,” you promised, meeting Sunghoon’s gaze. “I’ll take them also tomorrow, feed them, homework, baths. Drop them at school in the morning.”

“We already have plans,” he said. “But go now. I have work.” He crouched to the twins’ level, anger vanishing behind tenderness. “Love you both. Be good, buckle up.”

They hugged him tight. When they stepped back he straightened, facing you again, expression calmer but still flinty. “One slip, fine. Don’t let it become a pattern.”

“It won’t,” you said.

Jihoon touched the small of your back— steady warmth. Sunghoon’s eyes tracked the gesture, but he only nodded once, curt, and strode toward the second bank of elevators, phone already to ear.

In the car, silence settled until Haneul blurted, “Mommy, you’re never late.”

You winced. “I messed up. I’m sorry.”

Yohan leaned against you. “We forgave you already.”

Your chest ached. Jihoon glanced in the mirror. “Cookies and extra sprinkles tonight?”

Haneul brightened. “Bear shaped!”

“And maybe a penguin one for Yohan,” you added.

Promise of sugar thawed the tension.

As Jihoon eased into traffic, his hand sought yours again. You squeezed, grateful.

You texted Sunghoon

You: Home safe. Thanks for waiting.

The read receipt appeared instantly, yet no reply came.

Perhaps it wouldn’t tonight. You would face him again at soccer practice on Sunday, armed with punctuality and contrition.

For now you had twins chattering about cookie shapes and a man beside you who smelled of hand sanitizer and steadfast patience.

But it didn’t quite soothe you as Sunghoon’s cedar scent did.

☆.

You had tucked Yohan beneath his rocket-printed duvet at nine-thirty sharp, smoothing the fringe from his lashes while he whispered requests for “just one more chapter.”

Haneul occupied the opposite bunk across the room, arms folded in protest because her brother’s galaxy comforter looked “cooler than boring princess swirls.”

You compromised: two pages more of Tangled for them both and a promise of pancakes at dawn, then a good-night kiss to each forehead.

When you eased the door nearly shut, lwaving a narrow sliver left open so hallway light could chase away nightmares, you heard nothing but the hush of their synchronized breathing and, somewhere deeper in the apartment, the distant drip of the kitchen faucet you still forgot to call the landlord about.

In your bedroom you exchanged slacks for an oversized tee, idly scrolling through Sunghoon’s terse email about next week’s parent–teacher conference: concise bullet points, no greeting, no sign-off, just times and an attachment.

You answered with equal brevity: noted, see you there, and hit send before second-guessing tone.

Jihoon’s name flashed in a new message immediately after.

Hoon 🩷: Miss you already. ER’s a madhouse tonight. Sleep soon?

You smiled at the screen, typed back quickly

You: pancake duty at sunrise but I’ll try.

and set the phone facedown.

The apartment settled into its nocturnal symphony: refrigerator humming, street traffic, a soft river flowing some feet away, and you let eyelids flutter shut unaware of the quiet rebellion brewing down the hall.

Haneul waited until the hallway light dimmed on the smart timer, ten-fifteen, then kicked off her blanket.

She tiptoed across cool laminate, clutching her phoenix plush like a talisman.

Yohan was already half-propped on elbows, eyes wide behind the milky glow of the small astronaut night-lamp.

“You‘re awake too?,” he whispered, voice feather-soft so it wouldn’t carry.

“Mission time,” she declared, clambering onto the mattress beside him.

The springs squeaked; both froze, listening.

No footsteps. No Mommy. Safe.

Yohan scooted to make room, pulling up his notebook, the one with planetary rings on the cover and TOP SECRET scribbled in bubble letters.

Inside, colored-pencil schematics sprawled across pages: stick-figure Mommy and Daddy separated by a jagged thunderbolt, arrows leading to a giant red heart.

Haneul grabbed a purple crayon. “Step one, we need a plan that makes them talk without all the blah blah fight stuff.”

Yohan nodded solemnly, pencil poised. “Like a peace treaty.”

“Treaties are boring. We need… a trap.” She drew a square labelled family patch HQ and, under that, two stick grown-ups with startled eyebrows.

He frowned. “Daddy doesn’t like when we surprise him, and mommy gets scared when daddy is mad.”

“Fine,” she allowed, tapping the page. “Then we make them do something happy together. What do they both like?”

Yohan’s brow furrowed, deep in six-year-old contemplation. “Coffee?” he suggested.

“They’ll just drink and talk about bills.” Haneul rolled her eyes. “Think bigger.”

“Skating!” he blurted. “Daddy took us to the frozen fountain last winter. Mommy laughed a lot that day.”

Haneul’s grin flashed feral. “Yes. Ice. But how do we get them there at the same time?”

They fell into hushed deliberation, heads bent, plush phoenix wedged like a conference mascot between them.

Yohan proposed forged invitations to a “special parents’ night” at the rink.

Haneul countered with a surprise picnic in the middle of the ice, blankets, cocoa, maybe glitter bombs. Yohan worried about glitter in skates; Haneul insisted glitter fixed everything.

They compromised: glitter only on the thermos.

Haneul flipped to a fresh page. “Backup plan in case they can’t pic nic: make them watch old wedding videos.”

Yohan’s eyes widened. “Do we have those?”

“Grandma does. We can ask but pretend it’s for school.”

“I don’t like fibbing.”

“It’s not fibbing,” she soothed. “It’s… diplomacy.” She’d heard Sunghoon use the word during a heated phone call and liked how it rolled off the tongue.

They listed supplies: colored paper, cocoa packets, marshmallows shaped like stars (non-negotiable), enough allowance coins to bribe the rink guard, and Sunghoon’s spare keycard if pick-up shuttling required infiltration of his apartment.

Haneul promised she could swipe it from the crystal bowl by his door.

Yohan fretted about fingerprints, but she waved him off “Daddy is a CEO, not an FBI agent.”

When strategies tired their brains, Yohan yawned cavernously.

Haneul fished a flashlight from under the pillow, clicked it on beneath a shared blanket, and they whispered final oaths of secrecy— not a peep to grown-ups, especially not Jihoon, because doctors asked too many questions.

They spat on palms with theatrical disgust, then sealed the pact with a sticky handshake that made them giggle until Yohan clapped both hands over his mouth.

Haneul switched off the flashlight. She nestled beside her twin brother, fingers intertwined.

“Mommy and Daddy will be happy again,” she murmured into darkness, more a statement than a wish.

Yohan swallowed. “Even if they don’t get married again… maybe they’ll laugh.”

She nudged him with an elbow. “They’ll laugh. And then we won’t have to pack bags every other weekend like ping-pong balls.”

He considered this, then nodded. “Mission: family patch!” he recited, sleep thickening his voice. “Operation commence tomorrow at oh-six-hundred.”

Haneul had no idea what hour that was, but Yohan liked numbers, so she agreed and commanded the phoenix plush to stand lookout.

By the time its stitched wings drooped against the pillow, both children drifted under, breathing in unison, dreaming of twirling ice and microscopic glitter storms, of coffee steam curling between two grown-ups who once loved each other enough to make a galaxy-painting boy and a tiger-riding girl.

Down the hall, you lay unaware, one arm flung over your eyes, pondering whether to email Sunghoon a proper apology for last week’s tardy scramble.

You debated phrasing until thoughts blurred, eventually you decided morning clarity would serve better.

Had you risen to peek in on the twins, like you usually did before sleeping, you might have noticed the double rise and fall beneath Yohan’s quilt or the faint scent of purple crayon still hanging in the air.

☆.

You spent Saturday morning lost in the weekend routine: laundry tumbling in the washer, a precarious tower of receipts on the dining table begging to be categorized, too distracted to notice the unnatural hush in the twins’ room and ghe sudden disappearance of your phone.

Sunghoon, the next day, somewhere across the river, sat in his high-rise office final-polishing a pitch deck, blissfully ignorant that Yohan and Haneul were toggling between his unlocked laptop.

While you counted vitamins into a plastic day-pill container, they sent your mother a text requiring your wedding videos for a school project. She dropped a USB driver when you were busy hanging out the clothes.

Then, they plundered the external drive labeled ARCHIVE— DO NOT DELETE on Sunghoon’s computer.

Up popped camcorder footage: you six months pregnant, satin wedding dress tailored around your belly; Sunghoon in a dove-gray suit, gaze locked on you like earth’s true north.

The twins giggled at their own embryonic cameos— your wobbling walk down the aisle, Sunghoon’s trembling hands when he kissed your knuckles, your joint vows whispered over the soundtrack of distant seagulls.

Haneul clipped segments without mercy, Yohan layering transitions that blinked neon pink and comic-sans captions: LOOK HOW MUCH THEY LOVED EACH OTHER! A royalty-free harp arpeggio looped beneath every frame, jerky and too loud..

Yohan handled logistics. He typed on Sunghoon’s email: “Client call moved. I’ll be offlain after noon.”

Haneul commandeered your phone when you left it charging beside the toaster. Her thumbs flew: “Running errands.” even if she didn’t really know what it meant “Taking kids skating at Star Rink tomorrow, can you grab them at four? :) Grab your skates, maybe they wanna stay longer”

The smiley looked nothing like your usual punctuation and everything like six-year-old exuberance, but they trusted adult obliviousness.

Next they texted you from his own work chat window, Yohan’s idea, so a parallel message pinged onto your lock screen: “I’ll drop twins at rink 3:30. You pick ’em up? Thanks. Bring your skates in case they want to stay longer.”

Then they deleted the threads, archiving proof deep in message trash where no one ever scrolled.

Grandma arrived at noon.

Your mother thought the surprise visit was your idea; you didn’t know that neither Sunghoon nor you were aware of their secret mission.

By three-thirty you shoved your skates into a canvas tote, wondering why Sunghoon had promised the twins ice on a weekend so crammed.

Still, a commitment was a commitment, and guilt over last week’s tardy pickup nipped your conscience.

You arrived to Star Rink’s gleaming atrium just after three-fifty, breath fogging in the artificially cooled air, muttering apologies you’d craft for tiny ears.

The rink looked unusually empty, just a few teenagers practicing spins, no sign of your children skating with your ex husband.

Then a familiar voice echoed across the polished concrete. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Sunghoon strode from the opposite entrance, coat unfastened, skates slung over one shoulder.

His surprise mirrored yours so perfectly it might have been choreographed— which, unknown to either of you, it had.

“You said to be here at four,” he accused.

You blinked. “No— you said i’d grab them at four.”

He frowned. “I have the text.” He dug for his phone, scrolling with brows knit. You mirrored him, finding nothing but your past conversations.

“Where are the twins?” you asked, throat tightening.

“Probably hiding behind a pillar laughing at us.” He scanned the rink. “Come on, rascals, out!”

No answer.

Only the squeak of rental skates and the distant crunch of blades carving ice.

You and Sunghoon shared a look that bridged the chasm of months— parental telepathy laced with worry.

A rink attendant in a blue windbreaker approached, clipboard in hand. “Mr. Park? Ms. L/N?”

“Yes,” you both answered, then glared at each other for saying it in unison.

The attendant smiled like someone who’d been tipped off. “Your children dropped off a USB this morning. Asked us to play it at four sharp. They said you might… need context.” She gestured toward the suspended Jumbotron above center ice.

Its four screens currently looped skate sponsors.

You opened your mouth— closed it. Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed.

“They told us to inform you they are at their Grandma’s, safe and sound.” She made air quotes.

Haneul’s grin flashed in your memory, wicked and gap-toothed. Yohan’s shy collusion behind it. You dragged a hand over your face. “Demons.”

The attendant glanced at the wall clock. 3:58. “We were also told to insist you both ‘get on the ice first so the magic works.’ Their words.”

Sunghoon pinched the bridge of his nose, then sighed. “Fine. Humor us.”

You laced skates side by side on a bench, trying not to notice how his forearm brushed yours when he tugged his bootstrings, how the slice of his jaw looked less severe up close, how the citrus-cedar cologne you once bought him still anchored memories.

When you stood, wobbling, he offered a reflexive hand, not the poised businessman, just the competitive skater who’d coached you through a thousand laps in winter courting days.

Muscle memory overruled pride, you let him steady you onto the ice.

The rink felt cavernous without the twins’ chatter. Fluorescent lights struck the frozen surface in blue shivers. You pushed off cautiously, lungs filling with cold whisper-clean air.

Sunghoon glided backward, assessing your form. “Knees bent,” he murmured, in instinctive coach mode.

“I remember,” you said, managing a credible curve. Across the ice, teen couples twirled; pop music thumped overhead. That familiarity, him skating circles until your confidence caught, stirred warmth you tried to quell.

At exactly four-o-one the music cut, replaced by a jarring harp trill booming through loudspeakers.

The Jumbotron flickered snowflakes, then a shaky camcorder frame: you in pearls, belly round under ivory silk, Sunghoon at the altar, eyes glossy.

Your skate edges wobbled. “Oh, my God.”

He looked up, jaw slack.

The audio crackled— your voice in 720p, laughing, telling the officiant a twins joke mid-vow and everyone roaring. Caption bubbles popped: THEY WERE SO CUTE! :’) Glitter GIFs rained down pixelated gold across the screen.

The edit jumped, janky cross-fade to the first dance where Sunghoon’s hands rested protectively on your curve.

A subtitle shouted: LOOK HOW DADDY STARED AT MOMMY!

A collective “awww” rose from rink spectators. Your cheeks burned.

Then the too loud music started, deafening everyone around.

Sunghoon skated closer, voice low. “Where did they even get this?”

“Your archive drive? My mother had a backup too.”

He winced. “I locked that folder.”

“They hacked you.” A short, incredulous laugh escaped. “Our six-year-olds hacked you.”

Onscreen footage shifted to the hospital delivery room, your mother must’ve filmed it, Sunghoon pressing lips to your brow while monitors beeped.

Then a freeze-frame zoom-in on both newborns, overlay text in rainbow font: MISSION FAMILY PATCH: ACTIVEIGHT.

Mutters of delight filtered from onlookers.

You swayed slightly, Sunghoon caught your elbow. For a long heartbeat neither of you moved, riveted by the stumble-through montage, first bath, stroller race, your exhausted faces side by side on the couch.

The amateur edit felt like a love letter scrawled in crayon, messy yet searingly sincere.

When the screen faded to white with a final flourish, PLEASE LOVE AGAIN, silence thawed into soft arena applause. The attendant cut the feed and awkwardly restarted the playlist.

You exhaled, a shudder that misted the chilly air. “They went to Grandma’s so we’d be forced to… reconnect.”

“Tiny criminals,” he murmured, but his voice wasn’t angry. just overwhelmed. And guilty.

You eased back, studying him. Ice crystals peppered his hair where condensation had settled.

He looked suddenly tired, the rapid-fire CEO shutters pulled open to something vulnerable.

“They miss the way we used to laugh,” you said, throat tight.

“Do you?” he asked, earnestness slipping out before he could clothe it in sarcasm.

“Yes,” you admitted, quiet, surprising even yourself. “I miss when we were on the same team.”

He nodded, gaze drifting to your scarf, today a soft gray, no hickeys to hide, “We’re still parents. That team never dissolved.”

“You’re right. We just… forgot how to play.”

He released a breathy chuckle. “Leave it to our kids to schedule a remedial practice.”

You managed a tentative smile. The playlist shifted to a mellow jazz instrumental. Without thinking you extended a hand. “One lap? For old times.”

He took it gently, palm warm through your glove.

Together you pushed off, synchronizing lengths like gear teeth meshing.

The glide settled into familiar rhythm— your left, his right, bodies leaning, inside edges kissing ice.

He matched speed to yours, never showboating. Halfway around, muscle memory took over and you attempted a cautious crossover.

He guided your hips with featherlight fingertips, murmuring corrections the way he had when teaching you to skate backwards: “Weight over the heel, trust the blade.”

Trust.

That had been the fragile axis after divorce, trust in schedules, trust in boundaries, but not in closeness.

Yet here, under fluorescent hum and cinnamon-cocoa rink air, your body remembered what your mind had shelved, you trusted him to keep you upright on ice.

He trusted you with the beating hearts of his children.

When you completed the circuit, neither of you let go immediately.

You drifted near the boards, hearts thudding louder than rental pop. Finally he cleared his throat. “We should call them. Let them know mission accomplished… partially.”

You laughed softly. “They’ll demand proof.”

“Let’s take a picture then, to show them.”

“Alright.” You murmured, taking your phone out of your jeans and handing it to him.

He took it, a shy quirk on an otherwise confident man. “Say cheese.”

His hand rested on the small of your back, so familiar it was almost painful.

Heat jolted through your body, and he must have felt it too because his own shifted closer.

“Cheese.” You breathed out and he took the selfie before giving you your phone back.

A comfortable hush settled.

You studied his profile, the slope of cheekbone, faint crease where laughter used to live.

Something gentle stirred beneath ribs, not romantic lightning, but a warm tide of possibility.

“If we’re going to be ambushed by our own offspring,” you said, “maybe we should carve out time to talk, really talk, before they escalate.”

“Dinner?” he offered, simple as breathing. “Somewhere public. Neutral ground.”

You lifted a brow. “Supervised by waitstaff instead of kindergarteners.”

“Exactly.” His smile warmed. “Next Thursday? I’ll book at that Italian place you like.”i

“Email me the details.” You squeezed his arm once before stepping back. “And… thanks for catching me earlier.”

“Always.” The word hovered in the cool air, sincere and unvarnished.

You skated toward the exit, heart lighter.

Behind you, Sunghoon called after with playful edge, “Try not to be late this time.”

You looked over a shoulder, grin spreading. “Set a reminder for me, tech genius.”

He laughed, unrestrained, head tipped, and the sound echoed like silver bells across the rink.

You carried it with you off the ice, past the attendant who winked knowingly, past teenagers still buzzing about the cutest video ever, all the way to the lobby where your phone buzzed with a photo from your mother: twins on her sofa, popcorn bowl between them, thumbs-up so wide it nearly cracked the frame.

You texted back: Nice try, tiny masterminds. We’ll talk when you’re home. Love you.

You opened Sunghoon's chat:

You: They’re officially grounded from espionage… but I’m glad they tried. See you Thursday.

Three dots pulsed. His reply came shortly after

Sunghoon: I’m glad too. Good night, Y/N

You slipped the phone away, realizing your cheeks still ached from smiling.

Outside, dusk mellowed the skyline into lavender and rose.

You inhaled the bite of winter air the rink expelled each time doors opened and thought maybe patchwork didn’t have to recreate an old quilt; it could stitch something new— imperfect seams, frayed threads, surprisingly strong.

And thanks to two relentless six-year-olds, the first patch was already in place.

☆.

You sat across from Jihoon in the hospital’s rooftop garden, wind tugging faintly at the corners of the pale-blue picnic blanket he’d spread on a lunch break more rushed than he admitted.

A single thermos of his too-strong espresso steamed between you, the scent mingling with oregano from planters that volunteers kept for the pediatric wing.

His eyes, steady, kind and edged with fatigue from a sixteen-hour shift, searched your face while you traced invisible constellations on the blanket’s plaid.

He smiled, soft. “You’re quiet today. That usually means your brain’s ten paragraphs ahead of your mouth.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Guilty.”

“Talk to me.”

The ease in his invitation nearly unstitched your resolve.

You folded your hands, thumbs fidgeting. “Jihoon… I need to tell you something, and I don’t know how to do it without sounding ungrateful.”

He uncapped the thermos, poured you half. “Just say it.”

You met his gaze, the gentle brown that had steadied you through late-night panics and blues, and felt the first sharp twist of regret. “I care about you so much. You know that, right?”

“I know.” A faint line appeared between his brows. “And?”

“And I’ve loved how safe I feel with you, how easy things are.” You wrapped cold fingers around the paper cup. “But after what the twins pulled at the rink… I realized easy isn’t the same as… a spark.” The last word trembled in the air.

He swallowed, intake of breath small but audible. “You mean Sunghoon.”

“I mean the life I had with him. The mess, the fire.” You exhaled. “I don’t want to hurt you, you’ve been nothing but wonderful.”

Jihoon’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded once, firm and deliberate. “Feelings aren’t crimes, they just… happen.” He scanned the skyline, blinking hard. “We both knew from the start your heart was still boarded up with ‘handle fragile’ stickers.”

“I thought time would change that, and maybe it could have. But when I stood on that ice and saw the way he steadied me—” Your voice cracked. “I felt something snap back into alignment and I can’t pretend I didn’t.”

Jihoon rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Are you going back to him?”

“I’m going to ask if we can try, slowly. i don’t even know if he wants that.”

He gave a rueful smile. “He’d be a fool not to.” Then, softer, “Do you love him?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, then whispered, “Yes.”

Silence hung, broken only by the flap of pigeons and distant ambulance sirens.

Jihoon inhaled and squared his shoulders like a surgeon scrubbing in. “Then you owe it to yourself, and to the twins, to see. And I owe it to myself to not be someone’s gentle detour.”

Tears blurred your vision. “You deserve someone who blazes for you.”

“Yeah,” he said, tone light but eyes wet, “I intend to find her.” He leaned forward, brushed a thumb beneath your cheekbone. “Thank you for being honest before resentment set roots. That takes guts.”

You laughed shakily. “Feels more like cowardice.”

“Honesty’s never cowardice.” He squeezed your hand, then released it. “Go tell him, before I change my mind and keep you here for selfish reasons.”

You rose, tucking the cup near the planter. “I’ll always be grateful of you, Jihoon.”

“Just remember me when the twins need free check-ups. I can still be their uncle Jihoon.” His chuckle chased you to the elevator, bittersweet but genuine.

☆.

Clouds brooded violet over the Han River by the time you stepped from a taxi at Sunghoon’s building.

You forced a breath, rode the elevator thirty-nine floors, and stared at the steel door, heartbeat ricocheting.

Before you could knock, it slid open, sunghoon stood framed in warm lamplight, phone pressed to ear, expression surprised.

He was about to head somewhere, but he ended the call anyways. “Did we schedule something I forgot?”

“No,” you said, voice thin. “Can I come in?”

He stepped aside, bare feet on oak planks, the apartment scented faintly of roasted sesame, maybe early lunch abandoned.

He waited until the door shut, then folded arms. “Is everything okay with the kids?”

“They’re fine. At Mom’s till tomorrow.” You swallowed. “I needed to talk… without small ears.”

His eyes softened, wariness mingled with curiosity. He gestured toward the sofa where plushies still lounged from last custody swap.

You both sat, leaving a cushion of space that pulsed with old familiarity and new tension.

You braced elbows on knees. “After the rink video, I’ve been… rethinking a lot.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tensed. “Thought we agreed not to scare them with false hope.”

“This isn’t about false hope.” You looked up, meeting his gaze head-on. “It’s about real hope, but only if you want it too.”

His breath caught. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.” Words tumbled out, halting at first, then fluid. “I miss the way you used to leave notes in my pockets, how you’d call from the taxi just to hear me breathe.

you gulped, laying down the cards alongside uour heart “I miss us arguing about which tea to drink and making up before the kettle boiled. I don’t miss the screaming matches or the silence afterwards, but I believe we’ve grown. The twins forced us to see we can still be a team.” You exhaled. “So I broke things off with Jihoon this afternoon.”

Shock flickered across his features, surprise, then something almost like relief.

He reached for you, stopped, lowered his hand. “I don’t want you to choose me if being with him made you happy.”

“I know,” you murmured. “And lord, he was amazing.”

You looked up at him, emotions flickering on your face “But he wasn’t you.”

Silence pooled, thick but gentle. Finally he asked, “What does ‘try again’ look like to you?”

“Coffee on Sunday mornings, just us, talking about anything except bills. Shared therapy if we fall into old traps. Dates, real ones, ending in separate apartments if pace matters. Honesty every step.”

“And what if the spark still scorches us?” His voice husky.

“Then we keep ice buckets nearby,” you teased, then sobered. “I’m not promising a fairytale, just the chance to rebuild.”

He stood, paced to the window where Seoul glittered like scattered gemstones.

Reflection haloed him in citylight. “I never stopped loving you,” he said, quiet, raw. “I just stopped believing love was enough.”

You rose, walked until you stood an arm’s length away. “Love isn’t enough. But love and work, and two pint-sized spies, might be.”

He laughed softly, turned, and took your hands. “Okay,” he breathed. “Slowly.”

“Slowly,” you echoed. The warmth of his palms radiated up your arms, familiar and electric.

He drew you into an embrace— tentative at first, then securing, his chin atop your head, your ear over his heart.

The rhythm there felt both new and remembered. You closed your eyes, inhaling cedar and a hint of sesame, and let your muscles melt into a shape they’d once known by instinct.

Minutes or hours might have passed, until finally Sunghoon pulled back a fraction, eyes shining. “Stay for dinner? I burned the sesame oil but I can salvage the soup.”

You smiled through wet lashes. “I’ll chop scallions.”

His lips curved, softness where they’d once been rigid with pride. “And after we eat, we’ll draft a co-parenting treaty version two. The kind with glitter.”

“All treaties should have glitter,” you agreed.

Hand in hand, you moved toward the kitchen, steps slow, hearts quicker.

Behind you the plush phoenix slumped against the penguin on the couch, as if exhausted from orchestrating fate.

The sizzle of rekindled soup and the gentle scrape of knives against cutting board marked the beginning, not of going back, but of beginning again, eyes open, promises tempered, sparks tended, slow and deliberate as the first stroke of a painter restoring a treasured canvas.

☆.

The slow-burn weeks unfolded like pages warmed by sunlight:

Thursday pasta in your kitchen where Yohan grated parmesan with the gravity of a jeweler cutting diamonds and Haneul dirtied the whole table with tomato sauce.

Saturday mornings on Sunghoon’s cavernous couch, your sock-clad feet tucked under a shared blanket while Haneul narrated every plot twist.

Sunday morning pancake (very poor) art, followed by polite squabbles over syrup real estate.

Between those orchestrated family moments lived quieter, riskier hours, you and Sunghoon trading texts about who’d forgotten the dental forms, a lingering brush of knuckles while rinsing dishes, the way his gaze tracked you when he thought the twins weren’t looking.

No lightning strike, no fireworks, just kindling stacking itself, breath by breath, until even a whisper could set it alight.

The spark finally caught on a drizzly Friday café run.

You’d slipped into his apartment with take-out bulgogi and a box of those “unnecessarily cute” star-shaped macarons that made the twins squeal.

Post-dinner they demanded a pillow-fort marathon of Spirited Away, then conked out before Chihiro met Haku.

You and Sunghoon carried them, limp with sleep, to the joined rooms they had, the very first room you had used.

When you straightened, Sunghoon’s hand stayed at the small of your back a fraction longer than necessary, you turned, breath hitching at how near his lips had drifted.

No audience. No distractions. Just you, him, a hush weighted by weeks of restraint.

“You’re wearing the honey lipstick again,” he murmured, thumb ghosting the corner of your mouth.

You swallowed. “Maybe I remember it’s your favorite.”

His laugh rumbled low, intimate. “Flattery, or a tactical move?”

“Depends,” you whispered, pulse hammering.

He leaned in, tentative once, then confidence flooded as your mouths met, soft and searching, the air swelling with the musk of his cologne and rain on windowpanes.

The first kiss tasted of nostalgia, salt-sweet like melted macarons; the second tasted of now, your tongue sliding against his, a hungry sigh you’d forgotten your body could make.

His palm cupped your jaw, thumb tracing your pulse, the heat where he touched felt almost unbearable.

When he drew back, breathing ragged, he whispered your name the way it used to fall in the quiet just before dawn: reverent, claiming, achingly gentle.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, forehead resting against yours. “If it’s too fast—”

“Don’t stop,” you answered, fingers fisting in the collar of his henley. “Please.”

Walls you’d rebuilt brick by brick tumbled with shocking softness.

He nudged you against the hallway wall, kisses deepening, teeth grazing your lower lip.

Dirty words slipped from his mouth, pet names soaked in promise, in memory of every night you’d once mapped each other’s bodies, and you answered with a breathy moan that made him curse softly.

His hands found the hem of your dress, palms warm against your thighs, but he slowed, seeking permission, you guided his wrists higher.

Fabric rustled, buttons surrendered, you pressed close, reveling in the feel of his broad back under your roaming hands, the ripple of muscle tightening as he lifted you slightly to fit knees between your legs.

Desire pooled, insistent yet exquisitely familiar, as though this dance had only paused, never ended.

“Bedroom,” he managed, voice gravel.

You nodded, mouths colliding again as he half-walked, half-carried you down the hall.

And you collided in bed, sheets tangled around your forms dancing a tango you had forgotten was so familiar with him.

Morning sunlight shone through the curtains Sunghoon had forgotten to open the prior night.

You stirred first, disoriented, then aware of every muscle pleasantly overworked.

Sunghoon’s arm lay across your waist, his hand splayed over your stomach. You tilted to watch him sleep, lashes fanning his cheeks, lips parted.

Sheer peace... well, a peace that shattered with the stampede of four small feet.

The bedroom door crashed open, squeals ricocheted off walls.

“Attack!” Haneul shrieked, launching herself onto the mattress.

“Dad, wake up!” Yohan followed, slightly less feral but equally determined, penguin plush waving like a flag of conquest.

Sunghoon woke with a strangled grunt just before twenty-five kilos of enthusiasm landed on his rib cage. You fumbled to pull the duvet higher— too late. Haneul’s eyes went huge.

“Mommy’s wearing Daddy’s shirt!” she crowed, triumphant as a detective cracking a cold case.

Yohan grinned. “Mission success?”

You gaped, cheeks flaming, while Sunghoon scrubbed a hand over his face, half mortified, half amused. “Guys, personal space?”

“It’s dawn,” Haneul reasoned. “Cartoons await!”

“I think it’s barely seven.” Your voice rasped embarrassingly. “Can’t cartoons wait till coffee?”

Yohan shook his head with solemn conviction. “Cartoons fuel creativity.”

Sunghoon snorted. “Your bedtime documentaries are paying off.” He sat up, duvet after all staying mercifully in place, and hauled both kids into his lap, pressing kisses to disheveled hair.

His eyes slid to you, warm, just a hint of mischief. “What do you say we make pancakes? Mommy and I can supervise from the couch.”

“With syrup rivers!” Haneul insisted.

“sprinkles too,” Yohan added.

“Deal,” you said, laughter bubbling. You squeezed their ankles affectionately. “But maybe let Mommy find pants first?”

They scampered off, shouting about mixing bowls. You sagged back, exhaling a near-hysterical giggle while Sunghoon tipped his forehead to yours.

“Well,” he murmured, “that escalated quickly.”

You smacked his chest lightly. “You know they’ll brag about this for years.”

“Probably.” He threaded fingers through yours. “Worth it.”

Your smile softened. “Yeah, worth it.”

Down the hall cupboards slammed, utensils clanged, and a shriek informed you a measuring cup had become airborne.

You swung your legs over the edge, tee skimming thighs, and stood. Sunghoon caught your wrist, pressing a tender kiss to the inside.

“Round two tonight,” he teased, voice low. “Kid curfew enforced.”

Heat curled in your belly even as you rolled eyes. “We’ll see if Chef Daddy survives breakfast first.”

2K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 3 months ago

Text

I'M SO INVESTED I FORGOT TO BREATH

keep it between us

the rule was simple: don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend. but jay doesn't make it that easy. so it leaves you thinking... are some rules meant to be broken?

PAIRING : bffs ex-bf!jay x y/n

GENRE : SMUT = MDNI, angst, some fluff?? cheating, some cum play, choking, slight slapping, degradation, exhibitionism

WC : 29.3k!!!!

this wasn't proof read!! im sorry!! pls enjoy

ruby is your best friend in the entire world.

it’s a fact you find yourself repeating in your head more often than you’d like to admit. almost like you’re reminding yourself that you love this girl.

it’s easy to realize that you love ruby when it’s just the two of you. whether you’re hanging out in her apartment watching a movie or at a cafe getting coffee together, it’s simple, relaxing.

but at times like now, you feel like you have to forcibly remind yourself that ruby is your best friend in the entire world.

your best friend has brought you to a party tonight, even though it’s a wednesday and you both have an 8am class tomorrow. somehow, situations like this are common in your friendship. you tell her no, give a rational, logical reason as to why you say no. and then ruby persuades you with her hunger for spontaneity everytime to do the opposite.

from the outside, you and ruby look like complete opposites. even right now, at this party, others that don’t know or ruby would guess that you don’t even know each other, let alone be best friends.

you’re sitting on a couch, lazily holding a red cup with some punch in it that tastes like shit, most likely because it was created by a group of frat boys. you’re sitting with a few people that you know from your classes, adding occasional statements to their conversation.

meanwhile, ruby is absolutely wasted already, dancing all over heeseung at the pool table. she’s got her arms thrown around his neck, dancing and twirling off his body. you can hear her squeals of laughter from across the room, even over the loud music playing.

it’s hard to not notice ruby. besides the fact that she’s constantly getting herself into situations where she’s the centre of attention (last weekend she fell off a table at a party from dancing too hard). ruby is beautiful— far away from “stereotypical” beauty. she literally excels with an aura of beauty. everywhere she goes, she has eyes on her. it’s something she’s come to expect and love.

the thing about you and ruby is that in the areas of yourself that need to be more adventure seeking and social, ruby provides you. in the places where ruby needs more rationality and grounding is what you give her. both of you have traits that the other needs, which perfectly aligns and blends you together. which is what makes ruby your best friend.

“what the fuck are you doing?” a man’s voice questions angrily. you turn to where the voice came from, right where ruby was dancing with heeseung. the person who you expected to be standing there, was.

jay park is ruby’s boyfriend. they’ve been dating on and off again for the past two years. you’ve tried to remember the reason why the broke up for the first time, only one month into their relationship at that point, but it’s no use. they’ve broken up so many times over the past two years that you can’t connect what reason to the number of break up.

jay and ruby are so similar yet so different at the same time. it’s exhausting.

everyone at your college knows about jay and ruby’s complicated relationship. which is why no one at this party is surprised right now that jay and ruby are fighting, again.

they both can be chaotic and impulsive, which so easily leads to their fights being dramatic and escalating quickly. they’re unpredictable together. one second they’re yelling until their faces are red, and the next they’re crawling back into bed with each other. their attraction to each other is strong enough that their commitment issues are almost constantly showing.

“i’m dancing jay, is that a problem?” ruby answers him, her face twisted in annoyance as she holds one of her hands on heeseung’s shoulder as she stares down her boyfriend.

“yeah, you’re grinding on heeseung, right in front of me.”

ruby only chuckles, “i’m just having fun, jay. chill out.”

“chill out?” you can see jay’s jaw tense from across the room, “how can i do that when my girlfriend looks desperate as fuck grinding on whoever is closest to her.”

ruby’s faux smile drops from her pretty face, her eyes narrowing at jay in front of her. heeseung’s stuck in the middle of them.

“why can’t i have fun without you getting all possessive? i’m not yours, jay.”

jay scoffs, “yeah, clearly you fucking aren’t. don’t come near me again.” jay shakes his head at her before he turns, bee-lining it through the crowd of people.

“fuck you, asshole!” ruby shouts after him, her chest heaving in anger as she watches her ex boyfriend storm out of the party.

you can’t help but sigh as you know that it’s time for you to get ruby to go home with you. you’ll have to see her switch from crying to yelling in anger about jay until tomorrow morning, when they will most likely forgive each other again. ruby is your best friend in the entire world.

“have fun,” maria, a girl from your calculus class, nudges you with a smile. knowing to a certain extent what you’re going to have to deal with for the next eight hours.

“thanks,” you roll your eyes playfully.

“i just, i don’t get why they can’t just break up for good. like they seem miserable together.” jake, a boy from the rugby team at your college, grumbles.

you shrug, “if you find out, don’t forget to tell me.”

your classmates tell you they’ll see you tomorrow as you head over to ruby, who’s sobbing into heeseung’s shirt now. by the look on his face you can tell he has no idea what to do, he feels awkward about this whole thing.

“ruby?” you place your hands on her shoulders gently, “wanna get out of here?”

ruby turns to you, her lips pouting and her makeup running down her face, “please, y/n.”

she lets you start to guide her away from poor heeseung and outside. you smile awkwardly at heeseung, trying to reassure him that everything’s fine. he looks as confused as ever, but he manages to smile back at you before you get lost in the sea of people.

ruby puts her head on your shoulder during the uber ride home. her crying has turned into small sniffles. “he’s such an asshole, y/n.” she tells you, a sentence that you’ve heard one million times before.

“i know,”

ruby lifts her head up to look at you, her lips still in a pout, “but he’ll come back, right? he always does.”

you force a reassuring smile at her, knowing that no matter what you say, she’ll only listen to what she thinks. “right, he always does.”

she manages to smile weakly at your words, returning her head to your shoulder.

ruby is your best friend in the entire world.

you wake up the next morning, way past 8am, to your phone ringing.

almost blinding, you reach for it, keeping your head on your pillow as you answer and mumble a scratching “hello” into the line.

you instantly hear crying, gasping for air, like sobbing, “he— he blocked me!”

“who?” you rub your eyes, trying to understand what you were hearing.

“jay! he fucking blocked me!”

memories from the night before come back to you as you remember dropping off a crying ruby at her apartment before you went home and passed out. you don’t know what to say to her. they’ve broken up and made up so many times before that you don’t feel any urgency to try to comfort her since they’ll probably be back together before you go to sleep tonight. but he’s never blocked her before.

“he’s being so ridiculous!” ruby continues, her voice shaking, “i just need my stuff from his place but he’s wont fucking answer me. can you go get it for me, y/n? please.”

you roll over onto your back to stare at the ceiling. you want to say no. you want to say that she should deal with something by herself for once. but you know that you’re already going to do it for her. just like every other time she’s called you crying about jay.

“yeah, sure.”

“thank you, y/n. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“no problem, rubes. i’ll text you when i have your stuff.”

you hang up, but you don’t get out of bed right away. you love ruby, but sometimes it takes so much effort to do so. you don’t know why or how you’re always stuck in this cycle between her and jay. you’re always the mediator, the shoulder to cry on. just so that the cycle restarts an hour later, like it never ended in the first place.

you tell yourself that you’re just doing ruby a favour, but you know the favour will never be reciprocated and that it’s not just one favour. it’s like you’ve been doing her favours constantly for years. you want to tell her how you feel, but you don’t do confrontation. and you’re sure ruby will take it as an insult either way.

so, like usual, you tell yourself that it’s fine and to not think about it.

you go to jay’s apartment.

you’ve never been inside jay’s apartment building before, only outside of it when you pick up ruby or something. you hesitate before knocking on his door. you can’t tell if the reason you’re nervous is because you’ve never been here before or because you’re going to be alone with jay in his apartment.

but, you’re here for ruby. and that’s it.

the apartment door swings open before you can knock again. jay stands there, shirtless with a joint hanging from his lips. he leans against the doorframe with a slow and amuse smile on his face once he sees you. “what’s up, y/n?” his voice is casual, like all the other times he’s spoken to you. his gaze doesn’t leave you as it flickers over your entire body.

you cross your arms as a reflex, “uh, ruby sent me to get her stuff.”

his lips twitch like he wants to laugh, “of course she did.”

it makes you wonder if he’s also realized that you do everything for ruby. if so, how many other people realize this?

jay steps aside, nodding you in with the joint hanging loosely in his mouth. you step inside as he walks past you. his apartment smells like a mix of his cologne, the one that you helped ruby pick out for his birthday, and weed. his tv has a PAUSED screen on it from his video game.

you watch as jay starts to move around his apartment, picking up things that belong to ruby that are scattered around. he doesn’t look at you, and you try not to look directly at him for too long. his back muscles flex as he bends over to pick up ruby’s phone charger. you pretend that it doesn’t make your stomach twist.

“you know, you don’t have to do everything she says, right, y/n?” jay speaks, blowing out a stream of smoke.

you feel your body tense at his words. “i know. she’s just tired today so.”

he gives you a look like he knows you’re lying. because even though you and him aren’t extremely close, you both know ruby down to the very detail.

jay shakes his head, “ruby’s such a fucking child. i can’t deal with her anymore. i’m the always the bad guy, but she’s the one who can’t keep her shit together.” jay’s honesty scares you. your first instinct is to defend ruby, she is your best friend after all. but a second part of you understands what jay is saying.

“you’re not a bad guy, jay.” you surprise yourself with how quickly the words come out. “you made mistakes, but no one is perfect.”

you can tell by jay’s expression that he’s also surprised at your response. but he looks away, picking up the last of ruby’s things from the kitchen table. he walks over to you, handing ruby’s handful of things over to you. he’s still shirtless, towering over you. he holds his joint in his index and middle finger.

“you’re too nice for your own good, y/n.”

you smile softly at him the best you can, avoiding eye contact with him now that he’s so close to you. you can feel tension growing inside of you, but you don’t know if it’s also growing within him. you are his ex girlfriend’s best friend after all.

“you’re so different from ruby, ya know?” jay’s voice is deeper, his head tilted to the side with an amused smile on his face.

“yeah, i know.” you agree, trying to keep the conversation light. you don’t know where he’s going with this. you’ve never really had a conversation alone with jay before.

“i like that.”

your eyes widen at his statement. not expecting it at all. he only laughs at your reaction, stepping closer to you, taking a drag from his joint. his eyes scan you up and down as he exhales, blowing it out at the side of his mouth.

“uh, thanks,” you manage to get out, your voice sounding like a squeak. it only makes his smile grow further.

jay leans in even closer to you, making you back up against the front door behind you. you can smell the weed strongly now. he reaches over to the shelf beside you and puts out the rest of his joint in the ashtray. you stand frozen in your place. you’re trying to wrap your head around why your heart is beating so fast now. reminding yourself that this is jay standing in front of you.

but the way that jay is looking at you right now. like he’s noticing all the small details about your face for the first time in his life, distracts you from anything else.

“tell me to stop, y/n.” jay says, his voice lower and softer. his chest is almost brushing against yours he’s so close to you. his eyes are darkening and mischievous. his words hang in the air, challenging you to do something.

it’s a challenge that you fail.

jay’s lips crash against yours. it’s urgent and rough, like he’s been dying to do this forever. you hesitate for a second, trying to understand how your best friend’s ex is kissing you so harsh and desperate. like he’s starving for you.

it’s only when jay’s hands cup your jaw, deepening the kiss that you relax and wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders. his body is hard and firm under your touch. it’s new but familiar all at once. it’s something that you’ve thought about more than once. the thought that you’re finally giving in to something that you’ve imagined over and over again throughout the years sends a rush of adrenaline down your core.

jay’s lips guide yours, taking control, showing complete dominance over you. the wave of submission courses through you as you let his movements lead the way, like you’re chasing after him.

jay starts to step back, keeping his lips attached to yours as he guides both of you to the couch behind him where you’ve sat with ruby and him before. he sits down, his hands grasping your hips as he pulls you down on top of him so you’re straddling him.

“we shouldn’t be doing this,” you pull apart for a second, unable to keep your lips off of his for more than a second.

“i know,” he mumbles back, keeping his eyes closed as he chases for your lips.

you can’t help but feel like this is so wrong. you should have never gone to your best friends’ boyfriend's apartment. you knew it’d be dangerous, especially when jay is so vulnerable right now and you know you have no self control when it comes to him.

but at the same time is feels so good to be touching him like this. you have thought about it one million times before, but always with the guilt that he was dating your best friend. now its different, they’re broke up and it’s oblivious that jay wants you just as much as you want him. you don’t have to hide your lust for him behind the mask of being his girlfriend's best friend. it’s like he finally sees you as more than that. you can tell by the way his hands are gripping your waist, guiding your hips to move overtop of his hard cock growing underneath his sweatpants.

jay’s fingers hook underneath the bottom hem of your shirt, pausing against your skin, making the area burn against the contact.

“can i?” jay asks, his eyes looking up into yours above him. his eyes are serious, yet pleading for you to say yes.

you blush at the eye contact and manage to nod in approval. trying to ignore how your hands start to shake on his shoulders from nervousness and adrenaline of excitement crashing together.

jay continues to pull your shirt off your head and drops it on the living room floor. it leaves your chest completely bare to his eyes. he grabs your waist tightly, making it unable for you to move to cover yourself from the shyness that is creeping up your body. you’re unable to hide. his eyes scan your skin quickly like he’s in a hurry to remember every square inch of your body. you bit your lip in unsureness, trying to decipher what he’s thinking as he looks at you.

he finally speaks, “you’re so fucking pretty, y/n.”

your lip stuck between your teeth helps cover your growing smile at his compliment. jay has never looked at you or spoken to you like this before. like you’re y/n and not ruby’s best friend. he sees you as your own person.

everytime you’ve hooked up with someone before, it’s been someone you’ve met through ruby. they’ve always rushed you, barely spoken to you and it always felt like they hooked up with you out of limited choice of other people to hook up with.

and you can never forget the time you were hooking up with jaehyuk in the year above you and he moaned ruby whilst he came inside of you. the worst part is, he didn’t even realize he had done it. he just pulled out, put his pants back on and high fived you before he left you in the random bedroom at the party.

since then, you’ve been more aware and weary of what you hook up with, especially the ones you’ve been hooked up with through ruby. you feel like you’re just always seen as since ruby is unavailable, you’re the second best option since you’re her best friend. you always feel like you’re ruby’s shadow, like you’re not your own person with your own feelings and opinions.

but now, on top of jay, with his eyes on your skin and voice in your ear, it feels different. you feel seen for once. like he wants you and only you. and not because you’re ruby’s best friend, not because you were just there and available.

jay leans in and kisses your collarbone, his tongue darting across it. his lips suckle against it, leaving a dark red mark that (you hope) will bruise later. he takes his time, his tongue trailing slowly across your chest. he’s teasing you as he gets closer to the sensitive skin along your breasts. he licks right beside your nipple, loving the way you mewl in dissatisfaction from his teasing. you can feel his lips form a smile against your skin.

when his finally wraps his lips around your pink bud and sucks harshly on it you gasp softly. your hands tighten around his head to keep him close as his own hands tease your spine, gently rubbing up and down the indent. he nibbles on your nipple gently with his teeth. your hips are still circling above his crotch, you can feel him hardening even more at your audible reactions to his movements.

jay pulls away, his arms wrapping around your waist as he stands up. your wrap your legs around his waist in shock, your eyes wide as you stare down at him. he keeps a cocky grin on his face as he starts to walk to his bedroom with you in the air.

“just trust me, i got you.” he tells you earnestly, chuckling under his breath as your reaction.

jay lays you down onto his bed, your head landing in his pillows. you try to ignore the questioning thought of how many times ruby’s head has been in your exact position before.

jay takes his time with you. slowly kissing down your bare chest and stomach. his hands roaming every part of your body he can reach. when he gets to your jeans he unbuttons them and your panties down your legs.

you can tell that jay is confident and experienced, a bit cocky. even though you’ve never been together like this before, he still acts like he knows exactly what makes you feel good. like you’ve told him yourself. he doesn’t hesitate with any of his actions, thus his head is in between your legs with no further thought.

jay’s tongue delves into your pussy, lapping up your juices, wanting to taste you so badly. you can’t help but moan out at the first touch of his tongue. it had been so long since a man has properly tasted your core. you can tell that jay knows exactly what he is doing and it amazes you. you had thought that no one could ever make you feel good with their tongue, that it was something that only seemingly happened in porn. but with jay, it was different.

your hands grip the sheets underneath you, needing to steady yourself as you prepared for jay’s tongue to start switching between darting in and out of your hole and circling your clit. he keeps his hands on your hips, pinning them down to try to stop you from bucking up into his mouth. you keep your head up on your shoulders, looking down at him as he works his tongue all over your pussy. you moan as he keeps his eyes on you, wanting to catch every single reaction you make to his movements.

everything he was doing felt new to you. it leaves you uncertain of where this was all going. you’ve never felt this good from someone else before. you’ve never been touched with care. part of it makes you nervous as you don’t know where this is going. like maybe everything will just fall apart in a second. but you don’t want jay to stop.

jay slips two of his fingers inside of you, immediately curling them to find your gspot. you gasp out, eyes widening as he manages to increase the amount of pleasure you were feeling. “oh god,” you mumble out weakly, your lip getting stuck between your teeth. you feel jay smiles against your wet pussy, your juices and his salvia mixing on your pussy and his lower face. his chin was already a mess from how deep and passionate he was eating you out.

jay’s fingers create a pace, making sure to curl them perfectly to his your gspot everytime he pushed them back into your tightening walls. both of you knew it wouldn’t take much longer for you to cum. and although you were embarrassed at the realization, jay was even more turned on by it. his hips started grinding more into his mattress below him, trying to relieve himself a bit underneath his usually loose sweatpants, but now were suffocatingly tight.

“just cum, y/n, please,” jay begs you from his spot between your legs, “i wanna feel you cum on my face so bad,” his eyebrows are pulled together, desperate as he pleads for you to cum, “wanna taste you even more, all of your juices.”

“f-fuck,” you stutter out, your jaw becoming slack as you allow the pleasure to fully consume you now. jay can tell you’re finally coming undone when your walls spasm around his fingers, your hips buck up to still against his face, letting him suck on your clit harshly through your orgasm. your head is thrown back into his pillow. you feel almost helpless as you lay there, your body frozen as your orgasm hits you hard as hell. you can’t even push jay’s head away when his tongue starts to overstimulate you.

when he feels like he’s drank every last drop that your pussy would give him, he presses a kiss onto your shaking thigh and pushes himself up so he’s hovering over top of you. he stares down at you, right into your eyes as you try to catch your breath and relax from your orgasm.

jay doesn’t say anything as he leans down and makes your lips meet his. your eyes close as you kiss him back. you hum at the taste of yourself on his lips. he pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring it as your hands wrap around his shoulders to keep his lips against yours for longer. his kiss feels addicting as you follow his lead, liking how easily he can take control and guide you with your lack of experience.

jay roughly pushes his lips off of yours, his hand taking a grasp of your jaw, forcing you to stop. you look up at him through your lashes, chest still heaving from the lack of oxygen being provided from your orgasm and his kiss. jay’s thumb brushes against your bottom lip, swiping away some of the saliva you had mixed together. he smirks down at you, obviously catching the submissive glimpse in your eye as you look back at him, “you wanna keep going?”

breathlessly you answer, “yes,” you nod with his hand still taking your chin captive, “please.”

jay’s smirk only seems to widen mischievously, “good girl.”

he takes his hand off of your chin and instead starts to pull off the grey sweatpants he wore oh, so loosely on his dainty hips. his pants are off and thrown on the messy floor of his bedroom in a second, but you don’t look where exactly they are thrown to. you can only stare at jay’s hard cock finally being revealed to your eyes. you mean, ruby has shown you pictures years ago when they had first gotten together, but that didn’t count. jay was now physically in front of you with his cock hard just for you, wanting to be inside of you. the thought had your thighs rubbing together. jay catches the movement, chuckling deeply as he places a warm hand onto your bare knee and prying your legs back open.

jay easily, almost perfectly, slides himself in between your legs, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. jay starts to rub his cock up and down your slick, wet folds. he collects all of your juices and his saliva onto his cock., lubricating it to push it deep inside of you. when the red tip of his cock rubs against your clit it has you mewling out from the need and sensitivity. you feel like walls clench around nothing, just the thought of jay finally being inside of you.

“ready?” jay confirms, his eyes staring right into yours again. you can barely look at him, almost shy again now that his cock was a milimeter away from pushing inside of you, stretching your walls.

“yes,” your voice is weak and feeble when you answer. you feel embarrassed almost, but you know he doesn’t know why. he probably thinks you’re shy because you’re bare in front of him. he doesn’t know that what is happening right now is a situation where you have thought of multiple times before and now that it’s real, it’s making you blush. you know that he’s probably never thought of you in this position with him before, but you don’t seem to mind as jay finally pushes his cock inside of you.

jay goes slow, his tip that is dripping with precum slides in first and he stops once it’s fully in. you try to calm your breathing at the stretch of only his tip entering. jay keeps his eyes on you the entire time, his one hand resting on your knee whilst the other stays gripping his cock, pushing it further, in so slowly, so gently. like he’s afraid he’s going to hurt you. it’s the most caring anyone has ever been with you and he’s barely even started.

within a minute, jay has slowly pushed himself into you. your hips are pressed against each other. your legs are spread so your clit is exposed to his eyes, rubbing against his lower abdomen. jay watches your face the entire time, not wanting to cause you any discomfort, but once he’s fully inside he can’t help but groan out and drops his head into your shoulder.

“fuck, you feel unreal, y/n,” jay grumbles against your skin, his voice directly into your ear as he lays on top of you. he’s careful to not move his hips in any sudden way. he lets both of you get used to the stretch his cock has on your tight walls. you know you’ll be repeating the way his voice is so raspy and already out of breath as he says your name over and over again after this is done.

jay presses his lips into the crook of your neck and shoulder before he pushes himself back up onto his elbows, trapping your head in between, forcing you to look up at him.

he keeps his eyes on you as he slowly pulls himself out of you, keeping just his tip in. you gasp out, your back levitating off of the mattress behind you as his cock seems to glide against every spot inside of you that makes you feel good. when he slides back in, his cock hits your g spot, making you whimper out.

your chests are pushed together as jay starts to create a pace. he steadily keeps the pace, your legs still wrapping around his waist. you find it hard to look back at him as he’s looking at you. you feel so exposed underneath his gaze. like he can read your mind perfectly. like he’ll realize that maybe this means more to than it does to him.

because you know that neither of you should be doing this, but you shouldn’t especially. though you and jay are supposed to be loyal to ruby, you have more reasons than jay to not be doing this. because this means nothing to him, and both of you know that. but you know that there is a deep, suppressed feeling in your chest towards jay that you force yourself to not think about. that when you look at jay there’s a certain twinkle in your eye that you’re afraid he’ll see as he lays on top of you, his cock delved deep inside of you.

jay huffs as he sits up on his knees, his hands moving from above your head to your hips. your legs stay glued to his hips, not wanting him to escape you, as if your legs will keep him there forever. his bangs fall into his face as he stares down at you.

“tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?” his voice is deeper now, the lust taking over.

“okay.”

jay slides his hips away from yours, his cock almost leaving your needy hole before he slams back inside of you. your whole body jerks up towards your bed. your moan mixes with jay’s in his bedroom. both of you were tired of his slow, gentle thrusts that had only turned into teasing the more your walls tightened around him, the more his cock swelled every time it hit your cervix.

jay’s grip on your waist tightens as he starts to pick up his pace. he’s moving quicker now, slamming his hips against yours every single time. your hands fly above your head, gripping the headboard above your head to prevent you from hitting your head. he’s fucking into you so hard you think your core will be bruised in the morning. but you don’t mind.

no you don’t mind at all. if it gives you a mark that will let you remember that this is really happening and not some figment of your imagination then you wouldn’t mind. if it’s jay giving you marks on your body that prove he has touched you in a way you could’ve only dreamt of before now then you wouldn’t mind.

your hands cover your face as you try to hide your moans and expressions. it’s almost diabolical how good jay is making you feel and it hasn’t even been that long that he’s been inside of you. you’re sure jay can tell you’re inexperienced, he’s probably even heard stories about you from ruby. you think he’s been around more than once when you and ruby have even talked about the lack of hookups you’ve had. but right now you don’t want him to think about that.

suddenly, jay’s warm hand wraps around both of your wrists, pushing them over your head. he pins them to the mattress below, not letting you move them. he traps you there, with your hands over your head and eyes widened as you can look nowhere but at him.

“don’t do that,” he shakes his head at you, his thrusts still not stopping. “let me see you, please, look at me, baby.”

the nickname sends an electric shock down your body, making your walls clench tighter around him. you’re sure he can tell by the way his jaw drops as he continues to thrust, his eyes staring right into yours. you want to hide, mask yourself from him, but he makes it so hard.

“please,” he begs you, his voice desperate and deep.

“o-okay.”

jay smiles at you, leaning down and kissing you. the kiss is soft and gentle compared to how hard and fast he’s thrusting into you at the same time. you can’t help but moan into his mouth, muffled by his tongue meeting yours and circling it. his taste is becoming familiar to you too, now.

jay pulls away, sitting back up, leaving your hands as he grabs your waist with both hands again. your hands fly to his forearms, wanting to get as much as his touch as you can. jay doesn’t say anything, just keeps grunting as he thrusts into you.

unlike any of the other guys you’ve been with, jay keeps his eyes on you. his pleas of looking at him keep your eyes on him. you wanted to please him as much as you can. so even though you’re worried he’ll be able to tell you see more in this situation than he does, you keep your eyes open and on him.

jay’s fingers land on your clit, rubbing the bud in fast circles, adding to the pleasure that was growing in the pit of your stomach. your grip tenses around his forearms from the pleasure. your back arching off the bed uncontrollably.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” jay mumbles as he watches your body fumble around below him. you whine in response out of embarrassment and lust and need all at once. jay laughs through his breathless thrusts, “it’s hot, don’t worry.”

“you’re hot.” you can’t help but reply. and you blame it on the orgasm that’s quickly building inside of you, because you know that you’re usual self would not dare to speak that, even though you’ve thought it since the first day you had seen him. when ruby had brought him over to introduce you to him in the university cafeteria. his hair was shorter back then and he was less muscular than he is now. but you still found him drool worthy. you remember him sticking his hand out to you, shaking your hand as ruby introduced you to him as her “best friend for life”. but you couldn’t stop staring into his deep brown eyes that were turned into a smile.

jay chuckles at your statement, it’s something he already knows— and he knows that if it wasn’t for his cock hitting your g spot over and over again, you would have never told him.

“i wanna cum inside of you,”

a wave of electric pleasure soars through you, your walls tightening more as your body squirms below him, “please, please.”

jay’s jaw drops again and his eyes close for a second as he takes in your wet walls enclosing around him, literally suctioning him in, tempting him to cum inside of you right this instance.

“fuck, okay,” jay nods at you, eyes meeting yours. their colour is darker now compared to when you first met him in freshman year. they’re filled with lust and need as he rubs your clit in faster circles with his three fingers. “i want you to cum with me, you think you can do that?”

“yes, yes, god.” you nod against the mattress, your hair becoming a mess because of all your squirming.

if you weren’t so close to cumming on jay park’s cock you would be embarrassed by how fucking needy and desperate you sound.

jay starts to fuck his dick into your harder and harder. his bedroom is filled with your moans and his grunts and the almost disgusting, wet sound of your bodies meeting together. your entire inner thighs are leaking and drenched and spreading all over his lower abdomen. neither of you can care at this point, loving the mess it takes to get this close to cumming so hard.

“beg for my cum,” jay grunts out, his voice the deepest you’ve ever heard it. you can tell he’s just as close as reaching his orgasm as you are.

you swallow harshly, “i want your cum so bad, jay, please.” your eyebrows are pushed together, like a puppy-dog as you look up at him. “please cum in me— i wanna feel your warm cum inside of me so bad.”

“oh, fuck,” jay’s stomach jerks harshly in and out, his thrusts not stopping as he fucks into you. you can feel his dick start to twitch inside of you. he still keeps his eyes on you, soaking up the lust yours are packed with.

“fill me up, jay.” your voice is like a whisper, but it’s all it takes for jay to finally hit his high.

“fuck, fuck, cum with me, baby, please, please,” jay’s voice is anguished as he begs, his cum starting to spurt out of his cock, painting your walls with white.

jay’s cock twitching over and over again inside of you and his fingers sloppily rubbing your clit push you to the edge. but the pet name that spills from his lips fully pushes you over. your orgasm hitting just a second after jay begs for you to cum. your moans meet his as your eyes stay glued to each other’s. you can see the pleasure take over his entire face as he lets go inside of you. he does what you begged of him and fills you up with his warm cum. your walls pulsating around him as more of your juices slide around his cock make his orgasm last longer, which he isn’t disappointed with.

when the final spurt of cum and wave of pleasure washes over jay he plops down on top of you, his cock still lodged inside of you. he lays his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder. you can feel his heavy breath against your neck as he comes down from his high. every few seconds you can feel his cock twitch inside of you still, from the left over pleasure that is coursing through not only his veins, but yours as well.

neither of you try to move, besides jay’s thumb lazily circling your bare hip bone, soothing you from your orgasm. you’re left staring up at his ceiling, chest still panting, smelling jay’s cologne with a mix of sweat and weed.

there’s a fluttering feeling in your chest that scares you, but you’re too physically tired to do anything about it. that was the hardest you’ve ever come in your life. it had just ended, yet you’re already trying to replay the entire event in your mind. you don’t want to forget a single detail and you aren’t sure— no, you know,this won’t and shouldn’t happen again.

you remind yourself that this isn’t romantic. this is chaotic and messy and so utterly selfish it should make you sick. but you don’t move, you stay put underneath jay, under your best friend’s ex boyfriend. you don’t want to move.

when you wake up in the morning you don’t know where you are for a second. you look around the room, trying to figure out why your bedroom looks so weird. it’s only when your foot hits something next to you that you remember where you are.

your eyes scan beside you, the white sheet draped over jay’s still naked body as his eyes are closed with his head against the pillow right beside yours. his black bangs are hanging over his forehead, covering the tanned skin that sweat droplets fell from only a few hours before.

when you laid down last night it was dark out, but now there is clearly sun peeking through jay’s white curtains. you reach over to the nightstand, grabbing your phone and audibly gasping when you see the time.

fuck.

you had class in an hour and still had to bring ruby her bag of shit she wanted from jay. the whole reason you even came to his apartment was for your best friend. and now you’re leaving with more reasons to stay away from jay than you had come here with.

you throw the sheet off your body, your eyes widening when you see that you’re still naked as well. you stand up, trying to remember where your clothes had been. you pick up pieces of clothing from his bedroom floor all the way to the living room, where the PAUSED screen of his video game is still flickering on the tv. you pull back on your shirt and skirt, trying to find where jay had put your shoes.

“leaving already?”

you gasp as you turn around, facing his bedroom door where jay leans against the door frame. he has his grey sweatpants back on again, still loose around his hips. you gulp when you remember what is right below them, and how you’ve felt him inside of you, all over you. the memories from last night slamming you at full force now that he stands directly in front of you. your mind starts spiraling as jay just lights a joint in front of you. when he exhales, your eye contact breaks through the grey smoke.

“um,” you shake your head, trying to get yourself to focus on anything but his toned muscles, “do you know where my shoes are?”

with the joint in his mouth, jay’s eyes widen in recognition and nods towards the couch, “under the coffee table.”

you follow and pull out your sneakers, fumbling to slip them on your feet with urgency. you suddenly wanted to leave just as quickly as you wanted to the night before… before jay had persuaded you to stay. saying nothing, you grab the bag of ruby’s stuff and head to the door.

“y/n,” he calls your name when your hand grips the doorknob. you don’t let go of it as you look over your shoulder at him. he’s still in his place at the bedroom door. he shrugs when he speaks, “don’t overthink it.”

you stare at each other, and to anyone else it would seem expressionless, meaningless, but you both know what you’re thinking as you look into each other’s eyes: don’t tell ruby.

you pull open his apartment door and slam it behind you, like that would stop anything from following you out.

ruby doesn’t question you much on why you hadn’t answered her texts the night before, which you were relieved for. she was more concerned with what jay had said to you when you showed up and asked for her stuff. if he had told you he missed her, if he was crying, if it smelt like a perfume in his apartment that wasn’t hers. you hoped she hadn’t picked up on your nervous tapping on your desk when she asked the last question.

when ruby had finally run out of questions about jay she sat back in her seat, pouting as she crossed her arms over her chest. although she had told you she had spent the entire night crying about jay, she looked like she had slept a peaceful nine hours. her makeup and hair looked pristine as always. you, on the other hand, looked like you had been through a trainwreck. your hair felt like it was a knotted mess and you were still wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday. you would so kill for a coffee right now.

“so, what were you up to last night?” lena looks over at you from her slouched position. the classroom had started to fill with other students, the professor yet to show up.

you can’t help but basically give yourself whiplash as you turn your head to look at your best friend. your arms instinctively wrap around your body, like you can hide behind them. “um, not much. why?”

ruby tilts her head at you to be honest, her nose wrinkling upwards, “because it looks like you haven’t showered in a week.”

your mouth opens to speak, to say literally anything to explain to her about why you look like this. to say any words except for jay. but unfortunately, that’s the only word running circles in your head since an hour ago when you woke up naked beside him in his bed.

ruby sighs, “please don’t tell me you spent all night on that anthropology paper! i told you to chill out about it, it’s not due for another month!”

ease washes over you, too much for your liking. you don’t like feeling like this infront of ruby. she was supposed to be your best friend and now it’s like you have to watch everything you say to not let it slip what mistake you had made the night before.

you sheepishly smile at her, “maybe.”

ruby rolls her eyes, sitting up now with a playful smile on her lips. “you work too hard.” she shakes her head, “at least put the rat nest of a hair up.” she slips off a scrunchie she had on her wrist, handing it to you. you keep that guilty, sheepish smile on your face as you take it, reaching up to put your hair into a ponytail.

“oh my god!”

your hands drop to your side at once, “what?”

“what’s that on your neck?” ruby reaches over and bends your neck so she can see better in the dim classroom lighting, “is that a fucking hickey?”

your hands fly up to cover the general area she was looking at, brushing her hands off of you. “what? no!”

ruby’s jaw drops as she looks at you, her eyebrows pulled together in shock, “y/n, that’s a fucking hickey you liar!”

you stare at your best friend, eyes circling her face as you try to read her expression, trying to think of anything it can be besides a hickey. your hands start to sweat, you can feel it against your neck where they try to hide the bruise that jay had apparently left the night before. you knew you should’ve looked in the mirror before coming straight to school. you thought it would’ve been suspicious to ruby if you were late to class for once. you now realize that this was much worse.

you feel paralyzed as you stare at ruby, not knowing what to do or say in this situation. you had only hooked up with jay less than twelve hours ago and ruby had already figured it out. you were so fucked, oh my god your friendship is so completely ruin—

“you have a secret crush,” ruby’s face contorts into amusement, her shoulder coming to nudge you, “oh my god, he had you up all night didn’t he?”

your arms wrap harder around yourself, trying to get yourself to calm down. another crisis adverted.

“ruby,” you shake your head, turning away from her to sit forward and face the front. your professor had finally come to class, apologizing for being so late today. something about traffic but you couldn’t hear properly with your heartbeat pounding in your ears and ruby leaning over the desk to stare right at you.

“who is it? come on, tell me! please!”

“it’s no one ruby, it’s done. it won’t happen again.” you tell her, and it's the full truth you’ve told her all morning.

ruby doesn’t like your answer, pouting and slouching back into her seat as she stares straight ahead at the professor setting up the powerpoint for the lecture today. the lights turn off in the classroom, the only light being the projector.

“it’s fine i guess,” ruby mumbles, quieter now as the professor begins to introduce the topic for the day. “at least i don’t have to find people to hook up with you, now that you can do it on your own.”

you glance over at ruby, her face is expressionless as she stares straight ahead. when she meets your gaze a smile spreads on her face which you mirror and then turn to focus on opening your notebook.

ruby’s words sit with you for the rest of the day. like it had been some awful burden to her to find someone to hook up with you. like you had begged her to do. like it was so hard to find some desperate guy to hook up with poor y/n. even though you know it's wrong, you can’t help but picture ruby’s face if she found out what had really happened last night.

ruby and jay’s “disagreements” (what ruby calls their fights) usually only last a few days before their tongues are down each other’s throats again and you’re struggling to get a second of ruby’s attention. but this time, it’s been a week since jay had stormed out of the party and given ruby all her shit back.

if you hadn’t hooked up with jay a week ago, you wouldn’t be so worried. you know ruby is slowly transcending into an emotional hurricane by the second. one minute she’s laughing saying she’s a “free woman” and then the next she’s crying on your lap asking you what she had done wrong.

the worst part is that you think ruby is picking up on your anxiety. she keeps looking at you with her pleading eyes to tell her the “truth”— that jay will call her back and he’s just being petty right now, but you can tell she sees right through your reassurance.

ruby was always such an emotional chaotic mess that she needed your stability. you needed to hold her still. and you didn’t mind doing it, but now that that stability is wary it’s only creating an even worse feeling for the both of you.

you don’t like lying to your best friend, but you can’t help but feel like the moment you had with jay the week before was the first and only time someone had seen you for yourself. like you didn’t need to be with ruby in order for someone to even briefly glance at you. like you had a voice of your own.

it made you question your entire decade long friendship with ruby more than you ever had in your life. it scared you but the feeling in your chest like you were hiding something grew bigger every day, and it wasn’t just because you were hiding the fact that you hooked up with jay. it was because you felt like you were hiding a part of yourself from everyone. a part of yourself that you felt like you consciously suppressed in order to let ruby shine.

but the thing was, you realize now that you wanted to shine too.

today was monday, which meant that ruby, the only one in your friendship that had a car, had cheerleading practice. it usually wasn’t a problem for you, even though you would have to constantly hear about how sore her legs were afterwards. but today, it was raining as soon as you stepped foot outside your university’s doors. the pavement was already a dark grey from how long and hard it had been raining.

you have no other option but to put your headphones on and start walking home since your other, more dry option was at cheerleading practice for another hour and a half.

it didn’t take long for your hair to become drenched and stick to your face. you could feel your socks becoming little puddles in your shoes with every step and you hadn’t even properly made it off of school property.

car headlights turn the corner behind you and when you glance over you see a familiar black bmw pull up the curb beside you. it felt like a punch in the chest when the window rolled down to reveal the face that you had thought about every single day this past week. his eyebrows were furrowed in concern as he shouts at you, “what are you doing?”

it takes a second for you to realize that you’re not dreaming, that jay is actually in front of you, “walking.” you sound dumb, like you have never spoken to someone before in your entire life.

you see him roll his eyes through the harsh rain, “get in.”

your body starts to walk before your mind is aware, almost drawn to him subconsciously, or you just really wanted to get out of the rain.

you hop in the passenger seat of the car that you’ve been in before. jay has picked you and ruby up to go to a party or some other thing multiple times before. but you had always sat in the back, watching him and your best friend either hold hands over the centre console or fight until they're both red in the face as you pull up to the destination. it was like you were in ruby’s territory— again.

now that it was just you and jay in the car, it was definitely the most quiet it’s been in here with him.

jay’s dry laugh distracts you from the silent comparing, “you’re fucking drenched.” he reaches over to blast the heat, turning all the vents towards you. “do you want to get pneumonia or?”

“no, of course not. ruby’s just at cheer so, i didn’t really have a choice.” you explain yourself, but you catch the way jay’s whole body tenses at the mention of your best friends’ name. jay turns his eyes to face the road again and his amused smirk drops from his face.

“so, you going home?”

“yeah,” you nod and jay takes his foot off the break, pulling away from the curb in the pouring rain. the windshield wipers are working at a fast pace and the heat blasting is working overtime to keep you from catching a cold. you can still feel droplets of rain falling from the strands of your hair onto your hands.

the sound of the rain relentlessly hitting the car and the heater blasting is enough to make it less awkward than it should be in the car with him. you feel almost pathetic. you had thought about him all week— all the things you wished you could’ve said to him the last time you had seen him. but now, that you’re actually with him in his car— alone, you’re silent. all you can think about really is how loud and fast your heartbeat is going. you hope he doesn’t hear it.

you hope that he just assumes that you’re sick, like the rain had actually gotten to you and has given you a cardiac emergency and that’s why your chest feels like it’s about to explode. that the feeling is definitely from that and not the fact that he’s so close to you right now.

“why haven’t you texted ruby, yet?” you speak before you can stop yourself.

jay scoffs, “i have nothing to say to her,” he turns his head to look at you, his eyes serious and steady, “and i don’t want to talk about her. especially not when i’m with you.”

your head snaps to look out the passenger side window, like the rain droplets covering the entire window have somehow become more interesting to look at than jay. you hope it hides the fact that your eyes widened almost cartoon-like at his words. what does he mean by that? though, you do agree with him. you don’t want to talk about your best friend when you’re with him. it feels wrong but so good at the same time. you want to stay here just a bit longer to figure out what is the right thing here— the good thing.

in your peripheral vision you can see jay glance over you once, and then twice before he speaks, “you know,” he starts in his usual confident tone, the one that you wish you had, “you don’t have to do all that, good girl, shit with me.” he says “good girl” like it tastes bad in his mouth to say. like he’s repulsed.

you look at him, keeping your face expressionless as some defense mechanism.

“you don’t have to pretend, just be you.”

“what?”

jay narrows his eyes, “you know what i’m talking about, y/n.”

it’s your turn to go stiff. is it really that obvious how you feel? then why is jay the only person to ever be able to really tell what you’re feeling? without even saying anything he knows what you’re thinking. he sees right through you. it scares you to be honest. how long has he been able to do this?

“you make it sound like it’s so easy,” you place your palms flat against your soaking wet jeans, trying to distract yourself— letting the sweat that piled up in them soak into the rain stained fabric.

jay cocks his head, confusion obvious on his face, “because it is?” his voice comes out slow, like he’s trying to process your words still, trying to understand you. you keep your gaze fixated on the window beside you. your lack of response makes him scoff. “you don’t have to pretend with me, y/n.”

you hate that everytime he says your name a shock spirals down your spine. you wish that you could so easily not pretend with him. like you could rip off that mask you put on when you’re around everyone else— the mask that you weren’t even properly aware of until recently. yet, jay seems like he’s known of that mask forever. he knows that you’ve been shrinking yourself to fit into ruby’s shadow. but he must understand that it’s hard when you’ve spent your entire life doing that— being the calm and reasonable one to the girl that’s known as a chaotic, out of control mess that’s always the centre of attention. you swallow harshly at the thought of being unmasked around jay— like maybe he won’t even like you as much as he thinks he does.

before you can mentally spiral more, jay is pulling up the curb outside of your apartment building. part of you is relieved to get out of this car where you feel so exposed, but the other part is wishing you’d do what jay is telling you to— to be yourself, to stay in this car longer like you really want to.

you glance at jay briefly before your fingers wrap around the car door handle, ready to push it open and jump out.

“why do you always look at me like you’re trying to not want me?”

jay’s voice stops you, your body frozen as you face away from him, completely turned to the passenger side door to get out of here. but his words hit you like a truck— because it’s true and no one has actually voiced a thought you had thought about so many times before. you take a deep breath and turn your head over your shoulder to face him, still trying to keep your face expressionless, as if that’s gonna deter him in any way.

jay’s hand lands on top of yours that’s resting on the centre console, like his hand is going to keep you there for longer. “if you want me y/n, then say it. show me who you are, what you really want.”

your heart literally feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. you want to say it so bad— that you do want him, and that you’ve wanted him for a while, even if that makes you a terrible friend. your fingers twitch under his hand, thinking about what you should do. what would you really do in this situation?

fuck it.

before you can mentally talk yourself out of it and hide in the shell that you’ve created for yourself, you lean over the centre console and push your lips onto jay’s. he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. his lips latch onto yours and pull you closer to him. your hand drops from the car handle, turning your entire body to him. jay doesn’t think twice about slipping his hands under your sweater, cupping your breasts. he doesn’t mind that your skin is cold and wet against him. you’re body is chasing his to get warm and to feel like you’re understood and seen, if only for a few minutes.

“take off your pants,” jay speaks against your lips, pulling away for a second to look at you before he smashes his lips back onto yours. “now.”

you kiss him more time before you practically force yourself to stop. your hands shake with anticipation as you unbutton your rain-soaked pants and slide them off your legs onto the car floor. jay helps you take off your heavy and wet sweater, tossing it on the floor with your pants into one soggy pile that neither of you can care about right now.

“want your lips on my cock,” jay confesses, almost desperate as his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, already swollen from kissing him.

without thinking twice, your hands reach down to his jeans, unbuttoning them quickly. you hear him chuckle dryly as he watches your hands move swiftly, wanting to free his cock just as much as he wanted you to.

you pull his warm cock out of his pants, the veins starting to protrude as his cock hardens.

“spit on it,” he tells you, pushing your head down over his cock. you do as he says, pursing your lips to let a glob of spit land right onto his cock. he hisses at the feeling of it. jay wraps his hand around his cock, keeping his eyes on you as he starts to jerk it, using your spit and half naked body to get him hard enough for you to take him into your mouth.

you get on your knees on the passenger seat to lean over jay’s lap to be able to fully get his cock stuffed into your mouth. jay glances around outside once to make sure no one’s around, but it’s dark out and it’s pouring rain and his tinted windows are enough for people to not see much of anything with this weather.

you lean down and slide his cock into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat, causing jay to groan out at once as he stares down at where his cock disappears. you wrap your hand around the base of his cock that doesn’t fit into your mouth, making your hand work in sync with your mouth as you start to bob up and down.

“fuck, that’s it.” jay groans above you. he grabs a handful of your hair in his hand, making a makeshift ponytail for you and him so he can get a better view of you. the car is filled with the faint sound of the heat running and slurping from your mouth working his cock in and out of your mouth.

your lips suckle on his tip, making his hips buck up from the seat below him. you keep your eyes closed as you focus on making him feel good. you hollow your cheeks, letting the soft, inner skin of them massage around his cock as you shove the tip further and further into the back of your throat.

“that’s good, oh god,” jay groans out above you. he brings his fingers to mouth, spitting on them before he reaches over behind you and pushes your panties to the side, wetting your pussy with his spit before he shoves two of his fingers inside you. you whimper around his cock at the sensation, making him buck up into your mouth again, wanting more of you.

jay’s fingers start to slowly push in and out of your pussy, warming you up for his cock that he plans on stuffing you with soon. yet he doesn’t want to distract you from your mouth work on his cock.

you keep bobbing your head up and down his cock, your spit covering his entire cock and dribbling down onto his balls. you’ve successfully gotten him hard and needy with every vein in his cock protruding. the top of his cock red and slick with not only your spit, but his pre cum that tastes like salt but sweet on your tongue.

“fuck okay, get in the back.” jay pulls your head up off of his cock, letting go of your makeshift ponytail. you start to climb into the back seat, laughing when jay smacks your ass. jay crawls after you, sitting down on the seat and he pulls his jeans and boxers off of his legs before he pulls you over top of him to straddle him. your knees are on either side of his lap, resting on the leather seats of his bmw.

you sit up on your knees, letting jay align his cock with your pussy, pushing your panties to the side again to make room. jay teases your weeping pussy with the head of his cock, gathering more of your juices to slide right in. he holds onto your waist as you slide yourself down onto his cock— both of you groaning out into the car as his cock reaches your cervix. your eyes roll to the back of your head as you take his cock at this angle.

you move your hair out of your face before you lean over jay’s chest, keeping your head above his as you start to rock your hips back and forth. jay keeps his hands on your ass, squeezing the skin there as he helps you set a pace.

“this good?” he asks you, wanting to make sure you were okay with this position.

“god, yes,”

jay smirks before he starts to lift you up over his cock before moving your hips back down, taking his cock fully back inside of you. he’s completely dominating, controlling when and how your hips move over his cock. like he’s using your pussy to get off.

your hands land on the top of the car seat behind jay’s hand, holding yourself up so let jay use your pussy to make both of you feel good. he starts shoving you down his cock harder, the skin where your pussy and cock meet slapping and filling the car. your moans start to pick up the faster and harder he drops your hips back down over his cock. the tip of his cock jabbing your g spot every time from this angle.

“fuck, wait,” jay gasps out as he keeps you still over his cock, holding your waist as he moves to lay sideways across the back car seats, using the door to keep him upright. you move to keep your feet against the seats now to hold you up instead of your bent knees. you’re hovering over him with his cock still lodged deep inside of you. “there, you have more room now.”

you smile down at him sweetly before kissing him, your lips brushing against each other hungrily. jay keeps alternating his hands from your waist and ass, gripping your skin roughly. you start using the seat below your feet to help bounce yourself up and down on his cock.

“oh god,” you moan out, your hand landing on the cool window by jay’s head. you find it hard to keep your lips off of jay’s. both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you fuck yourself down onto his cock.

your clit is rubbing against his lower abdomen every time you bounce and it only edges you on further, despite the burning feeling in your knees already.

“fuck, that’s it,” jay encourages you, keeping his eyes locked onto you as he watches you bounce on his cock. his hand lands hard on your ass, making you squeal as you keep riding him. “show me how bad you can be, baby.” you moan out at his words, the burning in your stomach growing as you want to prove to him that you’re more than just a good girl— that you’re more than what ruby portrays you as.

with the fuel that’s being added, you push back away from jay, your body and elbows landing onto the centre console behind you. your legs are wrapped around jay’s waist as he still sits on the backseat, but your body is laying back, using the centre console as a platform to hold your back up.

jay groans as he grabs your waist, your pussy out on display for him now that your knees are bent and wrapped around his waist. he can see your folds glistening and wet and suctioning his cock in. your clit is enlarged and throbbing, just begging for him to do something about it.

you push your shirt up so your breasts are revealed, your nipples perked and hard from the cold rain. jay doesn’t waste a second and reaches out, grabbing a hold of them. “fuck, i love your tits.” his voice is husky now as he stares right at them, massaging them in his hands, “most perfect tits i’ve ever seen.” you moan out, your hips rolling over his cock, wanting him to move. he smirks at your desperation, but does what you want. he starts to fuck his cock into you now having the perfect view of your pussy, tits and face.

“oh god, that feels so good,” you groan out, your eyes rolling as his cock fills you up again and again. jay’s eyes can’t stay in one place for long, scanning all over your body as his hips slide back and forth. you’re on display for him in the backseat of his car where you’re his complete centre of attention.

jay spits on his fingers again before he smears it on your clit, wetting it more so his thumb can rub perfect circles over it. “fuck!” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as jay increases the pleasure you’re feeling.

“yeah, baby? you like this?” jay nods at you, “like being fucked in my car? where anyone walking past can see you.”

“mm, yeah, i love it.”

jay smirks down at you, “yeah? you want people to see you spread out for me, showing me your wet fucking pussy?”

“y-yes, god it’s so wet, jay.”

“fuck, baby i know, i know,” jay grits his teeth as he focuses on the feeling of your wet walls squeezing around him, letting his cock fuck up into them, stretching them out. “only sluts get this wet at the thought of people seeing them. is that what you are? a slut?”

jay’s cock is fucking so far into you, his ass is above the seat so he can get his full cock into you every single time he thrusts forward. he keeps one hand on your nipple, squeezing and tweaking it whilst his other hand rubs circles into your clit. he’s working your entire body as your pussy fucking sucks him in, massaging his cock and milking him, just begging for him to cum.

when you don’t answer his hand on your nipple smacks your face, making you look up at him, making eye contact with him. his and your eyes match— they’re both filled with lust and need and desperation. “answer me— are.” jay fucks hard into you with every word, “you. a fucking. slut?”

“yes!” you cry out, “oh god yes! i’m a slut— just for you, i’m your fucking slut.” your elbows on the centre console drop as you lean your back and head back so your head is basically in the front seat again. your hands grab your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples so hard for the pleasure to shoot down your body.

“oh fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” jay grunts out, his hands grabbing your waist, fucking into you harder and harder as he watches your hands play with yourself as your head stays thrown back on the centre console, completely consumed in the pleasure.

jay leans over and spits directly onto your pussy, making you moan out at how easy his cock slips inside of you now mixed with his warm spit. your legs are completely spread for him, your one foot on the door whilst the other one is spread across the back seat. you look and feel like such a whore for him, just for him.

he reaches over your body, your hands interlocking over your breast as your and his hands squeeze it together. it’s a sense of intimacy as you hold hands whilst he pounds into you. it only fuels the desire you have for him— to prove to him that you aren’t some good girl that might break.

jay’s car is filled with both of your moans, feeding off of the pleasure you’re both giving each other. “fuck you’re pussy is so tight,” jay groans out, like it’s truly unbelievable how tight your pussy is wrapping around him. like it’s enticing him to fuck you hard and faster until you’re screaming out for him.

“choke me,” you moan out, voice desperate and airy as you look up at him.

jay does what you ask of him, his hand wrapping around your neck tightly, blocking your airway from breathing correctly. “like this, slut? you like it like this?”

“y-yes,” you manage to moan out, your eyes locked with his as his hand is wrapped around your neck.

jay groans out at the sight before him, “god you’re so hot,”

you smile at him through the pleasure and the lack of air reaching your brain. you can only focus on jay right now. the way he’s panting and moaning as he fucks into you. the sweat that’s dripping around his head as the car gets warmer and warmer with both of your heavy breathing plus the heat is still on from when you first got into his car. the windows around you are fogged up, you can barely see outside of them. the air is filled with the smell of sweat and sex and jay’s cologne.

“fuck, c’mere,” jay lets go of your neck and instead pulls you up against him by wrapping his hands around your back. he sits up against the back of the seat and wraps you around his lap so you’re straddling him again. your hands grab onto the head rest behind him as he presses you chest to chest with him.

you whine when you feel his shirt’s fabric against your half naked chest, “take this off.” your hands pull on the bottom hem of his shirt. jay snickers under his breath but does what you want, pulling the shirt off of himself, leaving him completely naked underneath you.

you don’t stop yourself from dragging your hands down his bare chest, warm and firm under your touch. you think back to all the times you had seen him shirtless, walking around ruby’s apartment or all the times you went to the beach together. how every time you saw him you wanted to rub your fingers over his skin, familiarize yourself with all his moles and textures. and now that you’re actually able to, you don’t know how you can ever not touch him.

jay grips your wrists suddenly, pulling them back behind him so your arms wrapped around his neck and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug as he shifts his hips underneath you slightly, causing his cock to brush against your gspot again. before you can complain that he’s been still for too long, he starts to pull out of you just to pump back into you over and over again. he sets a steady pace, pushing his hips up from the seat so he can fuck up into you.

your arms stay interlocked with one another around his neck, your forehead leaning onto his as he fucks you. you keep your eyes on his as he stares up at you. his usual light brown eyes are dark and slanted as he grimaces from the pleasure.

jay keeps you tight against him, chest to chest, as he fucks you hard. you’re forced to stay still and take it. his bmw is filled with the sounds of your moans and skin slapping roughly. everytime he groans underneath you your pussy clamps harder around his cock, encouraging him to keep going. and jay doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

jay’s not an idiot. he’s been aware that you’re hot, but he’s been aware that you’re ruby’s best friend. which strictly meant off limits in the dating world. but now that he’s pretty much done with ruby right now and you’re more than ready to take his cock, he doesn’t care about rules. the way your pussy grips his cock is enough for him to not stop.

jay unlocks you from his trapped hug, letting you have space between your bodies. he doesn’t waste a second before he’s leaning forward to wrap his lips around your breasts. he sucks on them and bites them, coating them in his saliva that leaves your skin cold from the air when he pulls away.

“c’mon, keep going,” jay slaps your ass, “bounce on my cock like the whore you are.”

you moan out in response but brace yourself on your knees as you start to bounce up and down on his cock. it feels so good and the pleasure has been boiling in your body and your need and lust for jay has been suppressed for so long that you start bouncing feverishly. you’ve wanted jay for so long, and you know it’s wrong but now that you’ve had him not only once, but twice… you don’t know how once this is over you will be able to stop yourself from going back for thirds.

because jay obviously makes you feel physically good— his cock hits all the right spots inside you, his fingers rub circles on your clit that have you mewling out and his complete attention on you when you fuck has you spiraling. but jay also makes you feel seen. and that’s something that you’ve always wanted. being with jay feels different from being with anyone you’ve ever met. and that’s dangerous.

you put both of your hands on his shoulders for leverage as you start to ride his cock faster. he keeps his hands on your waist to help hold you steady, his eyes are entrained on you as he watches you work your way up and down his cock. your hair is becoming a mess as you fuck yourself faster and faster on his cock. your jaw stays agape as you feel his cock slide in and out of you, your juices and his saliva making your core a complete mess.

“shit,” jay moans out, his eyes looking down at where your bodies connect, watching you bounce on him so desperately. he knows you want him to feel good, that you’ll do anything for him to cum, and it only makes the knot in his stomach tighten more. “that’s it baby, ride me like that. ride your best friend’s ex until you cum.”

“oh god,” your grip on his shoulders tightens at his mention of ruby. the guilt and shame you feel only add to the pleasure as you glide your pussy up and down his cock over and over again. there’s sweat dripping down your forehead in the cramped backseat of his car.

jay’s hand meets your face, slapping you so you look at him. he grips your jaw, keeping your head still as his fingers sink into your cheek’s flesh that he just smacked, “you think people would still think you’re an innocent good girl if they saw you right now, hm?” jay’s voice is dark and husky when he speaks. “the way you’re so desperate to bounce on my cock?”

“n-no,” you whine out, your hair half fallen into your face, sticking to your forehead from your sweat.

“and why not?”

“b-because i’m a slut.”

jay’s hand slaps your face one more time, “that’s right, you’re a fucking slut.”

before you can fully comprehend it, jay is pushing you off of his lap, his cock sliding out of you. he pushes you down onto the seat next to him, your face and chest flush on to the seat. he moves so he’s kneeling behind you, pulling your hips up in the air so your pussy and ass are on complete display for him. your ass is pink from his hands slapping and gripping the flesh. your pussy is stretched and agape as it tries to clamp down around nothing.

“ah fuck, look at this pussy,” jay groans out as he reaches his fingers down to the flesh. you jolt as he touches your swollen and red lips, covered in your juices in a complete mess. “it’s so swollen, so needy and pathetic.”

“mhm,” you nod your head against the leather seat as you look back over your shoulder at him.

jay glances at your face, pulling his lips into a smirk, “yeah? you’re pathetic and needy for me? for my cock?”

“yes, jay,” you’re quick to agree with him, because it’s true. “i need you so bad, please.” you wiggle your hips back, trying to get him to put his cock back inside of you.

you hear him curse under his breath one more time before both of his hands come down onto your ass, making you jolt forward with a cry as he spanks you again. the pain only adds to the pleasure you feel in the pit of your stomach.

before you can complain and beg for his cock again, jay forces his cock back into your hole. you’re so wet that it slides in so, so easily. he’s stretched you out perfectly. like his cock fits exactly in your pussy.

jay grabs your waist from behind, holding you still as he starts to ram his cock in and out of you from behind. you put one of your hands on the car door above your head so you don’t hit your head. a cry escapes your lips as his cock starts to hit your gspot from a new angle. it feels even better somehow.

everytime he slides his hard cock back into you his soaked balls slap against your clit. the noise your bodies make every time they meet is so ludicrous, straight out of a porno.

“is this what you wanted, baby? for me to fuck you like the real slut you are?” jay asks from behind you, his voice rough as he demands an answer from you.

“f-fuck yes!” you cry back, your eyes straining to remain open as he fucks you harder and harder, your body jolting forward everytime his hips meet yours.

“say it then,” jay’s hand hits your already red ass cheek again, “say you want to be fucked like a slut.”

“i- i want to be fucked like a slut, like y-your slut.”

you hear jay groan at your words, his pace picking up speed as he drills his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. both of you can feel your warm walls start to become sporadic around his cock. your desperation for him showing as your pussy sucks him back in everytime he fucks back into you. it’s getting harder and harder for jay to even pull back out from how tight and warm and wet your walls are around him. it’s like truly heaven for him.

“fuck, you’re such a whore for me,” jay groans out, “the way your pussy is fucking dripping, so fucking messy.”

you can only moan harder in response, your lungs filling with pleasure as he fucks into you at just the perfect pace and intensity. it’s all you ever wanted from him. you can’t remember all of the times you’ve thought about him fucking you like this, rough and needy and risky. there’s so much on the line right now, if anyone walked too close to his car right now, if ruby somehow found out. the risk only makes your pussy burn more for his cock.

you can’t take it much longer anymore and you slip your hand in between your body and the car seat, your fingers landing on your swollen, wet clit and start rubbing circles on it, bringing yourself closer to the edge. you hear jay chuckle darkly behind you as he keeps up his drilling pace. he reaches over your back, his hand cupping the back of your neck so it’s pinned against the car seat below you, trapping your head from moving and decreasing the amount of oxygen to your brain once again. your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure taking over your body everywhere with jay’s scent surrounding you.

“yeah, that’s it,” jay’s voice is breathless by your ear as he hovers over your back, his chest pressed into you, “make yourself cum on my cock, baby, please,”

jay’s plead for you to cum sends you spiraling and it only takes a few more thrusts of his cock to send you over the edge, finally. you feel like you’ve been holding back your orgasm since he first slid his cock into you. that’s how much power he has over you. just a simple touch from jay can send one million shocks of pleasure through you at a time.

your body felt like it was on fire as the orgasm ripped through you. your scream fills the car and you hope no one is walking out in the rain beside the car right now. your pussy clamps down tight around jay’s cock as you cum, getting wetter as your juices drip around his cock delved deep inside of you.

“fuck, baby that’s it.” jay groans out as he feels your pussy around his sensitive cock. your pussy feels like velvet to him and he doesn’t know much longer he can last.

with your body still shaking from adrenaline and pleasure, jay rips his cock out of you. your body is weak and limp and he rolls you over so you’re on your back and facing him.

“please let me cum on your face, please baby,” jay’s eyes are pleading as his hand starts to stroke his cock fast, his cock soaked in your juices.

“please,” you whimper out, mind still hazy but you sit up your elbows to watch him, “please cum jay, i want to taste your cum so bad.” your eyebrows are furrowed together as you look up at him. “make a mess of my face, please.”

your begging for his cum is enough for him as he lets out a loud grunt before strings of warm, white cum come out of his red tip and land all over your face. there are strands by your lips, your cheek and one singular one on your forehead. you moan out at the feeling of his warm cum on your face. like he’s marked his territory on you.

jay’s hand slows down it’s movements on his cock as no more cum comes out, his whole chest is heaving from his high.

“oh fuck,” he grunts out. his body is weak but he leans down and presses his lips onto yours harshly for a quick second before pulling back to look at the mess he made on your face. “you look so hot.”

you can’t help but giggle at his compliment. you feel wet and sticky and sore everywhere, but the way jay is looking at you keeps you awake and alert. no one has ever looked at you the way jay is looking at you right now. like you’re the centre of the universe to him.

jay reaches out and swipes each strand of his cum off of your dewy skin before he tells you to “open”. he shoves his fingers of cum into your mouth. you wrap your lips around his fingers as you moan at the taste of his salty cum filling your mouth. your tongue circles his fingers, wanting to get every last drop of cum off of his fingers.

when you’re done he takes them out of your mouth, keeping a soft smile on his lips before he leans back down over you, kissing you again. he moans into the kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. you let his tongue explore your mouth for a while even though your knees and ass cheeks are sore. if it means that you’ll be close to jay for longer than you don’t care about the pain.

jay reaches to the floor of his car and picks up his shirt to wipe down your legs and core. you laugh when he wipes your face off of any remaining cum. it feels intimate and normal to laugh with each other whilst naked.

jay fumbles around for an extra sweater he can put on and slips his jeans back on before he gives you your own clothes. he opens the backdoor and steps out into the rain for a second when you start fixing your shirt and pulling your jeans back on just to get in the driver's seat again. jay reaches over the centre console to pick up your bag and wet clothes before he tosses them to you in the back seat.

“you good?” jay turns to the back to look at you, he has a light, amused look on his face.

“yeah, i’m good.” you respond softly, pushing your messy hair behind your ear.

jay smiles at you, “you should go, before someone sees.”

his words make your fake world shatter as reality sets back in. that this isn’t the fantasy land where you’re dating jay and aren’t some little good girl that does everything ruby says. that everything that just happened in this car is just between you and jay. a secret.

“okay,” you can’t help how weak your voice goes, physically drained from the sex but emotionally hurt.

“i’ll text you,” jay nods, like he’s promising that he won’t forget you, and that there’ll be more.

you repeat your soft okay, pulling your bag over your shoulder as you step out of the backseat and out into the rain that hasn’t calmed down since he parked. you close the car door gently, like you’re scared any loud movements would pull you out of your fantasyland even sooner.

you lightly jog up to your building’s door, the rain cold on your arms. jay doesn’t wait for you to get inside, his car is already turning onto another street by the time you look back to the road.

when you’re done showering, cleaning off all the substances off your body and warming up from the rain, you can’t help but think about jay. you stare at your blurry reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror as you brush your teeth. how long will this thing between you and jay last for?

you spit and put your toothbrush down, leaning on the palms of your hands over the sink as you stare at yourself. your mind is becoming tangled with jay and you and ruby. you know that you shouldn’t want jay as much as you do, that if ruby ever found out… it would ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had.

but jay is involved, too. you think jay must want you, too, even a little. it’s just does he want more than sex with you, or does he want exactly what you want? you want to call him yours, and no one else's. you want more than secret sex that is only kept between you two.

it’s wrong to think of your best friend’s boyfri— ex boyfriend like this, and you know it. but you can’t help the feeling that rushes through you when you think about the way he says your name, or when he calls you baby. you can’t help that all your nerves in your skin feel like they’re on fire when he touches you. or that he makes you feel understood and real. he’s the only person in this world that makes you feel like you’re worth something more than just ruby’s shadow.

and it just so happens that he’s ruby’s ex boyfriend… you hope it can stay just between you and jay, at least just for a while.

although you were a health science major and jay was in finance, you both managed to have classes in the same buildings at your university. jay used to walk you and ruby to your classes before going off to his. he used to hold the door for you and ruby, always pressing a kiss into her cheek as she followed you into the classroom.

but now that it’s been two weeks since jay and ruby have spoken (a world record), it’s you holding the classroom door for a depressed ruby, whose shoulders are always slack as she plops down into her seat. ruby used to be like the campus’ ray of sunshine. you always found it hard to have a conversation with her in the hallways because people would always be cutting in to talk to ruby. everyone on campus knew her. but now, there was a dark grey storm cloud over her head that would deter people away from her.

before, it ruby’s head would always be on the lookout for jay, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the hallways before class until he’d come up behind her and link his arms around her waist. you’d always avert your eyes to their pda. it always caused a sinking feeling in your stomach that you just couldn’t ignore.

ruby still looks for the jay in the hallways, but instead of longing for him she hides away.

“tell me if you see that asshole, y/n.” ruby whispers to you on your way to physiology class, her head ducked down to your ear as she links her elbow with yours.

you sigh, “ruby, are you really still hiding from him?” you give her an incredulous look. “it’s not like he’s gonna bite you or anything.”

“ugh, i wish he would.” ruby shakes her head as she keeps her eyes forward. she misses the way you cringe at her words, unable to help the memory of the way jay’s teeth bite down on your inner thigh that gets forced into your mind. “at least then he’d acknowledge me somehow.”

“still no text from him?”

“no, not even a like on my insta.”

you’ve seen ruby sulk before— like last summer there was a 50-50 chance if she’d be ecstatic or depressed every other day when her and jay were going through another one of their “rough patches”. but those moods never lasted as long as this one has. it’s gotten to the point that you’re seeing different sides of your best friend that you hadn’t even known existed. ruby has become more desperate and clingy. you hadn’t realized before how much her mood is affected by her relationship with jay. it’s like she’s fragile.

“yo, jay!” a male voice calls from behind you. you feel ruby freeze beside you as you both see park wonbin behind you, coming closer as he keeps his gaze locked in the hallway in front of you— obviously searching for someone.

“shit!” ruby lets out a sharp hiss before she darts into the girls’ washroom, leaving you standing alone in the hallway.

you watch park wonbin walk straight past you, much like everyone else does when ruby isn’t with you. “jay, bro, where have you been?” wonbin continues, his hand reaching up as he aims to dab jay up who stands right in front of him now.

you can’t help the way your chest tightens when you see that jay is fully turned in your direction, but his eyes don’t even flicker your way— they stay on wonbin. jay’s lips (that you’ve become pretty familiar with) upturn into his usual smirk as he meets wonbin.

if jay turns his eyes to the right just a little bit he’d be able to see you. please. you mentally beg him to look at you. for him to acknowledge your presence in this busy hallway where you stand by yourself.

“sorry, i slept in.” you hear him reply to wonbin, nudging wonbin’s shoulder away from him with his fist.

“up late again last night,” you don’t see wonbin’s face but by the sound of his voice you can tell that it’s scrunched up into a playful tease. “who’d you fuck this time?”

jay rolls his eyes, turning away from you as he starts to walk further down the hall with wonbin, “shut up, bin.”

there’s like an elastic band wrapped around jay and your heart, and the further he walks down the hall, the smaller his head gets in your vision before he turns the corner, the more the elastic band threatens to break. it’s squeezing so tight, fully stretched out until it snaps completely when he’s out of sight. but only your heart is affected, it gets hit from the elastic so hard it stings in your chest.

people keep walking past you in the hallway, weaving around you to not hit you, but they don’t look at you. no, they don’t look at you the way they look at ruby if she was in your position right now. and maybe that’s good for you, or else they’d be able to see the yearning that’s in your eyes as you stare at the last place you saw jay.

a sudden hit to your shoulder has you breaking out of your trance.

“oh! i’m so sorry!” a blonde girl puts her hand out to you to apologize, but she doesn’t wait for you to say anything, she keeps walking down the hall with the rest of her friends.

you take it as a sign that you should go check up on ruby in the bathroom instead of waiting around, hoping for jay park to turn around.

there’s no one in the girls’ bathroom except for ruby who stands at the mirror, wiping underneath her eyes to rub away the fallen mascara. you can tell she’s been crying when she looks at you.

“did you see him?” ruby rushes her question out, her eyes wide. “did he say anything to you?”

“no, he didn’t see me, he just kept walking with wonbin.”

ruby’s eyes and lips frown at your response, turning back to the mirror to fix her makeup. you lean against the sink counter, watching her gently.

“he didn’t even glance over?”

you shake your head no.

ruby lets out a bitter laugh as he stares at you through the mirror reflection. “you should’ve said something.”

your eyebrows furrowed together, “said what?”

“i don’t know, y/n!” ruby’s hands flare at her sides, “something! anything! for once.”

you take a step back from her, not liking her anger that is obviously rising. “are you really gonna keep dong this, ruby?”

“doing what?” she turns to face you, arms crossed over her chest as she stares down at you.

“acting like there’s something i could’ve done to prevent jay from ignoring you.”

you see red flash through ruby’s eyes quickly— but her expression fades just as quick. she drops her arms, looking at herself once more in the mirror.

“whatever. we should get to class,” she mutters under her breath, walking past you to the door without looking back.

you wait a second before following her.

you hadn’t been able to focus reading your textbook the past week since your apartment building was under construction, something about weak pipes on the roof. which meant that from morning to late afternoon all you could hear was relentless banging and drilling as the construction workers fixed the pipes.

you really needed to get this week’s chapter read for your medical terminology class tomorrow though since your professor has spontaneously started giving pop quizzes for each chapter every week. and since ruby has basically been M.I.A after your physiology class a few days ago you can’t ask to study at her place.

which leaves you to study at the campus library.

you didn’t mind the campus library. you use to sit in the library for hours during your first year when your and ruby’s schedules barely lined up. you’d wait for her and jay to come find you after class, pulling you away from your study session to get you to go to some lame party with them. the librarians used to love you since you were always so quiet and didn’t cause any mayhem like a lot of the other students that would come in there. they used to greet you with a smile every time you’d walk in the door with your hands full of textbooks and paper. though, you remember the scowl on their face every time they’d see ruby and jay walk in to come get you. ruby never understood why everyone has to be quiet in a public library.

you were halfway through the skeletal system chapter with your headphones in and hair pulled into a claw clip to keep your hair out of your face, when sudden warm fingers spread across the back of your exposed neck.

you jolt upward, your hand flying to your neck as check behind you— catching the eyes of jay who walked behind you, a playful smirk on his face as he looks over his shoulder as he keeps walking past. he’s in a group with his friends, none of them aware of you or that jay had touched you.

you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips as you look at him, your bottom lip being caught in between your teeth as you try to mask the shyness that takes over you. jay winks at you before he turns back to his friends, all of them retreating to the far back of the library, out of yours and the librarians view.

your hand stays on the back of your neck where jay had touched you. the nerves on the skin still tingling as you can feel where each one of his fingers had grazed you. your stomach felt like it had exploded with butterflies at the innocent touch.

but it was more than that.

sure, he hadn’t stopped to talk to you, but he had seen you. which is more than you can say from what happened in the hallway a few days ago.

your textbook feels so unimportant now, spread open in front of you. your fingers dancing on the base of your neck, trying to keep the feeling of jay’s fingers there for as long as you can. you know you should really be able to focus on the types of bones in the hand and their functions, but now jay has completely taken control of your brain, once again.

you wonder why he hadn’t taken the risk to tease you in front of his friends, in public. did it mean that he wasn’t afraid for his friends to know what you and him have done in his bed and in his car? you wish he would say something to you, but for now you’ll have to settle with his actions, trying to decipher what they mean. you decide that is enough for you for now, just knowing that jay sees you, even when ruby’s not around. he confuses you, but you figure it’s worth it if he makes you feel like you’re ontop of the world.

on thursday night, when the construction workers finally go home for the night, you plan on sitting on your couch watching reruns of love island and eating take out since you had two three hour lectures earlier. you just wanted to relax in your own home, in silence.

but, since ruby is your best friend you should’ve figured that wouldn’t have worked out for you.

even though it’s been days since you have seen ruby, when there’s a sudden knock on your front door you don’t doubt that it’s her. before you can even get up from your spot on the couch where you had planned to rot all night, the front door swings open, and sure enough, it’s ruby.

“move over,” she huffs out, making you scoot over so she can sit on the couch beside you. she copies your previous position, putting her feet up on the coffee table in front of your couch and drapes the blanket over top of her lap so you’re sharing it. ruby wrinkles her nose when she sees maya jama on screen, announcing that there'll be another re-coupling tonight. “really? love island?”

you shrug, “it’s entertaining, ok?”

ruby rolls her eyes but doesn’t complain about your choice in television again. it’s the first time you’ve seen her in a while. you figured she needed space since your little argument in the bathroom, and all the stuff that’s going on with jay. usually you’d be worried if she hadn’t texted you in a while, even if the text was just about homework, but you didn’t seem to be bothered this time around.

when all the couples are surrounding the firepit and maya jama reappears in another designer dress, ruby sighs before she turns to face you.

“i’m sorry for ignoring you the past few days,” she starts and pulls her sweater’s sleeves over her hands. you notice that she’s hiding within herself, something she very rarely does. “i’ve been thinking about what you said in the bathroom last week— and you’re right.” your attention is fully on her at this point, though she can barely keep her eyes on yours without looking down at her lap. “i shouldn’t expect you to throw yourself in my and jay’s relationship. and i know that i’ve made you so involved in it and that’s not fair to you. i shouldn’t burden you with all of my relationship drama, i get like, if you’re super annoyed with it. i know i would be.”

you softly smile at ruby, “you’re my best friend, ruby. i wanna be there for you, when you’re happy or sad or whatever. i just, i can’t control what jay does, and i know that’s frustrating but, i wish you would understand that i can’t make him do anything. he’s his own person.”

ruby nods, “i know— i do understand. i guess, it’s just you’ve always been there throughout the entire time i’ve been with jay, so i guess it’s kinda like you’re a part of the relationship, too.” she dryly chuckles, but you can’t make yourself laugh. she glances at you warily and then continues, “i guess what i’m trying ot say is, i'm sorry for projecting my relationship problems onto you, or pressuring you or anything like that. i love you, you’re my best friend.”

you open your arms up, “come here.”

ruby smiles and scoots over the middle couch cushion to wrap her arms around you, your chins on each others’ shoulders. her familiar chanel perfume takes over your senses.

“i love you, too.”

ruby pulls back with a grin, “good, because tomorrow you’re coming to a party with me.” her voice jumps a few pitches, her eyebrows wiggling playfully.

“what?”

ruby sits back on the couch with her feet propped on your coffee table, “yeah, i’m tired of sitting around all day crying about jay— i wanna go out! have fun again!” she reaches over to your lap, grabbing your popcorn bowl and starts eating a handful. “plus, he blocked me on everything so,”

“what?” you gasp, leaning over her, jaw agape. “he what?”

ruby rolls her eyes, “he fucking blocked me, on everything! he’s such a man child.”

your fingers tangle into your hair on your scalp, trying to process what ruby is saying. jay and ruby have had some pretty awful fights, but they’ve never blocked each other on everything before.

“why do you look so shocked?” ruby gives you a quizzical smile, “you know jay, you know how he thinks ignoring people says more than actual words.” ruby lowers her voice a few octaves to mock jay’s voice before she laughs, “he’s such an idiot.”

your body feels limp as you sit back on the couch. you can’t help but feel a rush of guilt wash through you. was it your fault that he had blocked her on everything? have you really driven them apart? you try to think about what you had said to jay about ruby that could’ve caused him to cut ties with her like this, but nothing comes to mind. he doesn’t even let you say her name when you’re with him.

“don’t look so worried, y/n, calm down,” ruby waves her hand at you before she takes another handful of popcorn into her mouth, “god, you’re lucky no one plays games with you like this. but, i guess no one’s ever obsessed over you anyway to wanna play games with you.”

you cock your head, wanting to push her more about what she meant, but molly’s just been dumped from love island, making ruby scoff and shake her head. “i don’t even like, kady! why does molly have to go!”

you know that you should feel better that things with ruby are okay again. she’s sitting on your couch complaining about reality tv with you and planning when to go out again. it’s like usual, but it’s not.

the usual isn’t that you’re secretly hooking up with your best friends ex boyfriend. the usual usually includes jay being here with you, whether he’s fighting with ruby or making her giggle quietly.

the usual doesn’t include you realizing your best friend makes you feel like shit— undesirable and unseen. it doesn’t include her ex boyfriend making you realize that you can shine without ruby. that you’re wanted.

you stare at the tv without really watching it— you’ve seen it before, the islanders crying as they hug molly goodbye as zach looks shocked that she’s really leaving. you use to compare yourself to molly, almost having something you really want before it’s ripped away from you. but now you wonder if you’re more like zach, watching everything happen but not doing anything to stop it until he feels a quiet guilt that he can’t fix.

even though ruby is usually always late to class, she is never late when she has to pick you up to go to a party. so she’s pulled up outside your apartment right at 10pm sharp, texting you to come downstairs. you take one last look in the mirror before you leave, hoping that ruby doesn’t get too drunk today that you leave within an hour to take her home. that’s happened too many times before.

but all those times before weren’t as bad since jay was with you and would help you walk ruby up the stairs to her apartment and tuck her into bed. if she would start throwing up then you would hold her hair as jay rubs her back. jay being there would definitely make the drunk ruby experience a lot better.

but tonight, there would be no jay to help you with her.

as soon as you got in the car and started driving to the party, you knew that tonight might be one of those nights where you leave early and have to physically push ruby up the stairs and get her into bed since she’d be totally incapable of doing it herself.

“i’m just so tired of thinking about jay!” ruby waves her hand dismissively, “i want to have fun tonight okay! so let’s dance all night okay, y/n?”

you smile at her, “sure, if you want.” but you know that once she starts drinking as soon as you get to the party that she won’t be able to stop and she’ll be dancing with anyone.

you pull up to some house, with minimal lights on inside but you can hear the music from the front yard so you know there’s a party in there. plus there’s drunk people already on the porch, laughing and struggling to stand up by themselves.

inside the house was crowded, probably one of the most crowded house parties you’ve ever been to in your life. it was a struggle for you to follow ruby into the kitchen, but she kept a hold of your hand and led you through it. you could hear people greeting ruby in front of yo, but you kept your head down, just trying to get through this crowd without being elbowed in the side.

the kitchen was already a mess and the party hadn’t started too long ago. there were solo cups all over the table and opened bottles of vodka, and for some reason the tiled floor was soaked.

“you’re are so taking shots with me tonight,” ruby squealed as she looked down at the variation of drinks. “shots? really?” you ask her, you had never been a fan of shots, plus it was hard to take shots when you always had to be the sober friend to look out for ruby.

“yes! please,” ruby begs you, her eyes pleading for you to agree, “please c’mon, you know how hard it’s been for me recently.”

you cringe at the mention of why she’s been so down recently, knowing that maybe you had a part in it. you take a glance at all the vodka and the different coloured shot glasses in front of you and you decide that maybe taking a shot would decrease the feeling of guilt that’s crawling up your throat.

“fine, pour me one.”

“yay!” ruby claps excitedly as she grabs a bottle and pours some of the clear liquid into four shot glasses. “two for you and two for me.”

“what, two?”

“yes duh! it’ll be fine, please.”

you take a look at her sad, begging eyes for a moment, and then pick up both shot glasses, ignoring how ruby laughs triumphantly. you’ve never really been drunk with her before, so she so badly wanted you to be as wasted as her. on the count of three, both of you drink both of your shots consecutively, cringing at the bad taste.

“ugh, here, hurry,” ruby’s face is scrunched up from the taste, and reaches over to get two cups, pouring some purple punch into them. she passes you one and you both eagerly down the punch, it’s fruity taste a lot better than the strong vodka shots. ruby cheers, her cheeks warm as the alcohol enters her system. she scoops some more punch into hers and your now empty cups, “let’s go dance!”

you’re still processing the awful vodka taste in your mouth and the way the liquor felt as it goes down your stomach, but you follow ruby back into the crowded living room, holding tight onto your cup.

ruby pulls you into some little circle that’s in the middle of the living room, greeting some people and hugging them. everyone is holding the same red solo cups as you and ruby.

“this is my best friend, y/n!” ruby gestures to you in front of the group. “y/n, this is chaeryeong, dana and lexi.”

you wave at them and mumble a hi under your breath and they do the same before they turn back to ruby. the girl who has long black hair, chaeryeong, grabs ruby’s arm with a serious expression.

“did you see jay?”

“what do you mean?” ruby cocks her head, confused.

“jay’s here, ruby.”

you see ruby’s face pale as she starts to look around. you have to refrain from looking around yourself. but unlike ruby, you’re looking around because you want to see him, not hide from him.

“oh my god, why? i thought him and beomgyu didn’t get along,”

the girl with the curly blonde hair, dana, shrugs, “i don’t know, i guess they made up. i know they’re both friends with wonbin, so.”

ruby groans, “this sucks, i wanted to have fun tonight! not worry about my ex boyfriend lurking around.”

chaeryeong puts a hand on ruby’s shoulder, “don’t worry, ruby, we can still have fun!” she turns and looks at you, “right?”

you perk up as she includes you, “right, you said you wanted to dance ruby.”

“oh my god, please!” ruby brightens up at the mention of dancing and turns back to the group, “have you guys taken shots or are you just drinking the punch?”

“just the punch,” dana shows ruby her cup.

ruby sighs, “come on then, let’s get you guys some shots!”

before you can say anything else the three girls cheer and follow ruby back into the kitchen. you don’t have any other choice but to follow them, not wanting to be left alone in the middle of the living room.

ruby starts pouring her three friends some shots, but you stay at the doorway of the kitchen, telling them that you’d prefer the punch instead. you stare back into the living room as dana and ruby start talking about their lab partners for physiology, something that you don’t care to talk about but chaeryeong and lexi seem interested in.

the house is dark with the only light being from some lazily put up string lights and cheap disco balls. the music has seemingly gotten louder in the past twenty minutes since you’ve been here. you can feel the alcohol warm your stomach, starting to settle into your body.

you hear ruby cheer again behind you, and you know she must’ve taken another shot. you wonder if any of ruby’s three friends will help you tuck ruby into bed later on. but with the way they’re drinking too, you doubt it.

you start to think about how if jay were here he’d probably be telling ruby to settle down, or maybe they’d be fighting. but you would know that he’d still help you pack ruby into an uber later on.

if you hadn’t known that jay was apparently at this party, you would’ve thought that you were hallucinating him from thinking about him too much when you suddenly see him on the other side of living room. he’s standing by the stairs, the fairy lights that are circled loosely around the stair rail hang behind his head, like a halo.

it’s like he could feel your eyes on him because suddenly he starts looking around the room, turning away from his friend, until his eyes land on yours, still standing in the kitchen doorway.

you freeze as you look at eachother, but a smirk spreads on jay’s face. his eyes land on your cup for a second, before they return back to your eyes. even from across a crowded room he makes you nervous. he has some dominant energy that takes over you.

his friend starts talking to him again, making jay turn away from you for a second before he winks at you, then giving his friend his full attention. you think it’s partly due the alcohol, but your cheeks feel warm.

“y/n,” ruby grabs your arm, turning you around, “let’s go dance!”

you’re grateful that the house is so dark, or else ruby would’ve definitely commented on how red your cheeks are right now.

“um, sure. yeah,” you nod at her, your mouth suddenly dry. if ruby looks out into the kitchen doorway right now, she’ll probably see jay. your chest tightens at the thought of what might happen if ruby and jay see each other right now. you’re assuming that jay is also drinking and ruby is on the way to becoming wasted, you wonder if they’d even be able to have a conversation. would they somehow make up after weeks of not talking?

ruby’s grip on you tightens as she starts to pull you back into the crowded living room, chaeryeong, dana and lexi coming with you. they’re talking about something, but you can’t hear them over the music. you turn your head back to the stair rail where you had last seen jay, but he wasn’t there. your heart drops but you also feel relieved that he had moved, you didn’t want ruby to see him.

you dance with the girls for a bit, trying to lean into the way the alcohol was making you feel. you finished another cup of your punch and were starting to feel the alcohol burn in the pit of your stomach. the music was sounding better, even if you didn’t know the songs.

for a while, as you danced, you thought that ruby had control over herself. that she actually hadn’t drank that much. but as the hour prolonged with the five of you dancing in the middle of the living room, and your feet starting to hurt despite the alcohol numbing your lips, you could see ruby’s demeanor start to deteriorate.

ruby started dancing more sloppily, smiling lazily and yelling loudly but slurred. she kept her hand on dana’s shoulder as she danced, to keep herself balanced. the other three girls were definitely more drunk than you, but they weren’t as drunk as ruby. you could see chaeryeong struggling to keep her eyes wide open, they wanted to fall into slits so she could try to see better but it obviously wasn’t working with the alcohol in her system.

suddenly, ruby stopped dancing, dropping her hand from dana’s shoulder to cover her mouth. she was bent over slightly, her eyes wide as she started to push through the crowd of people. the four of you look confused at each other before you all start to follow ruby. you all call her name, wanting her to slow down, but it was no use. you all followed her up the stairs, leading to the second floor of the house.

even though there was a girl about to walk into the bathroom, ruby pushed past her, practically falling onto her knees in front of the toilet. the bit of panic you felt stopped when you saw that she was running away just to throw up. dana is quick to pull ruby’s hair into a makeshift ponytail and chaeryeong turns on the ceiling bathroom light so you could actually see something.

the poor girl that was pushed out of the bathroom for ruby to vomit was standing there in shock, her jaw dropped with a look of disgust on her face as she watched ruby continuously throw up into the toilet.

“i’m so sorry,” you gush at the girl, your face scrunched up in embarrassment for some reason.

the girl looks at you and then quietly laughs, “that’s ok, duty calls.” she gestures at ruby.

you smile politely at her as the girl turns and starts to head back downstairs. ruby’s friends are all crowding the bathroom door, trying to check in on ruby. the bathroom is quite small though, so you can only stand in the hallway by the door.

you’re trying to see if ruby is alright, but it’s hard to see through the other three girls. you see lexi turn on the tap, filling her red cup with water for ruby as ruby is still hunched over the toilet bowl. you think it’s time to leave, for ruby’s sake.

but at least this time you lasted more than an hour.

unexpectedly, a hand reaches out and grabs your arm and pulls you out of the hallway. you try to speak, to yell to the other girls for help, but another hand lands on your mouth, preventing you. they pull you into a bedroom that was right beside the bathroom, closing the door once you’re pulled in.

you squirm in the person’s grasp, trying to get them to let you go, your heart picking up pace as you feel their presence behind you. your body is pushed up against the now closed bedroom door, and it’s only then that you see a pair of familiar, brown eyes looking into yours.

though your body only relaxes when you hear jay’s annoying laughter in your eyes, “i got you good, huh?” he takes his hands off of you, taking a step back so he can take in your scared expression.

you cross your arms over your body, “haha, very funny.” you speak sarcastically, not impressed by him at all.

jay tsks at your annoyed face, “oh c’mon, baby, i just wanted to see you.” you tense at the nickname, looking back at the door subconsciously, not wanting ruby to hear him. “relax, they didn’t see me pull you in here.”

“well you’re lucky they didn’t, why would you do that?” your eyebrows furrowed together, concern laced on your face at the thought of anyone seeing you enter a room alone with jay.

jay shrugged, “because i wanted to see you.”

you roll your eyes, “and you couldn’t do it in a more inconspicuous way?”

jay smirks before he quickly pushes his body against yours, pinning you against the door and him, “no, not when you look so good tonight.”

you try to push him off, to tell him that he’s being irresponsible, but his lips attach to your neck, pressing kisses into your soft skin. his body feels so warm on yours as his hands start to move down your body.

“j-jay, we can’t!”

“why not?” jay mumbles against your skin, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing your bare thighs.

“because ruby is right next door,” you hiss at him, trying to get your voice to see unaffected by his actions.

jay only smirks and starts to lift the bottom of your dress up, revealing your panties, “so? can’t you be quiet? or is my dick that good?” he laughs when you roll your eyes at him.

“this is wrong, jay. she could hear!”

“this entire thing is wrong, it’s been wrong— who cares if she hears?”

you know he’s right. it’s been wrong since you stayed far too long in his apartment those weeks ago. it’s been wrong since the moment you sat on his lap and made out with him, since he’s made you cum in the backseat of his car. but maybe it’s been wrong since the moment he started dating ruby. the way he’s always been on your mind, how you always caught him staring maybe a second too long at you when ruby would leave the room. you think that maybe in a twisted way, you hooking up with jay at this party that his ex girlfriend brought you to, this was all right.

jay feels you relax under his touch, and he knows that he’s won. that you’ll let him do anything to you, even hook up with him while his ex and your best friend is in the room right beside you. the rooms share a wall. she’s only meters away from you and jay.

the thought of ruby walking in and seeing you with jay sends a shock down your body, making your arms grip onto jay’s shoulders as his fingers push your panties to the side are start to massage your clit in a circle. jay knows how you like it now, soft but fast. he knows you like to be teased. he knows what your pussy feels like when you cum.

he knows too much about you for it to ever go back to how it was before. when it was him and ruby, and ruby’s best friend.

you let out a sigh of pleasure as you melt into jay’s touch. his fingers starting to warm you up. you can both feel your pussy start to moisten at his touch. you both know how easy it is for jay to get you to soften.

jay’s lips attach to yours, feverishly. his lips are rough against yours, making out with you against the door hastily. you don’t struggle to keep up with his pace, you let him guide you along. you let his tongue in your mouth, something that he’s done too many times before. like he can recognize every inch of your mouth now. you don’t think your best friend’s ex should be able to do that.

“fuck, we shouldn’t do this, jay,” you pull away slightly at the thought of ruby again. but jay’s fingers remain on your clit, circling it, getting your knees to start to quiver.

“you always say that, yet you always let me touch you, always let me make you feel good.” jay’s voice deepens as he speaks, his fingers slowly becoming covered in your juices as your pussy gets wetter and wetter. there’s something about the risk of being caught, especially if it was by ruby, that sends you spiraling. it has your adrenaline pumping through your veins. “are you that addicted to my dick, y/n? can’t say no to it?”

you whimper at his question, hating the way that he can so easily wrap himself around your mind, your thoughts. “y-yes, you know i love your dick.”

jay chuckles dryly at you, not wasting a second to start making out with you again. the back of your head is pushed against the door behind you, your fingers clawing at jay’s black t shirt. his fingers start to pick up pace on your clit, rubbing it just the way you like it. the way that can make you cum the fastest.

you moan into jay’s mouth, part of you thankful that his tongue is wrapped around yours so that ruby can’t hear you. you start to circle your hips more, trying to get jay to move even faster, trying to get even more of him.

jay pulls away and looks down at your circling hips, his fingers disappearing under your panties and chuckles, “fuck you’re so desperate for me— you even risk getting caught by your best friend just to get my dick.”

you nod, your hair becoming a mess on the back of your head from the friction against the cold door behind you, “i just want you in me so bad. please jay,”

jay’s voice comes out in a growl, “fuck,” he takes his hand away from your pussy, ignoring the way you whimper out at the loss of his touch, “you drive me fucking crazy, y/n.” his hands grab your shoulders, moving you around to push you down on the bed. he’s quick to crawl on top of you, hovering over you with your dress still pulled up over your hips, your panties now having a wet stain on them from your juices. he groans at the sight, “you wear this short dress, stare at me with those doe eyes of yours from across the room— and then act surprised when i pull you in here?” jay hurriedly moves down your body with his lips, kissing the exposed skin of your neck, chest, arms and thighs.

you try to defend yourself, but your voice is airy from the anticipation, “i, i didn’t think you’d fuck me here.”

jay shakes his head, “you should’ve known that i can’t resist you, y/n… how can i resist my own personal slut?”

you moan at the name, loving the way that he truly degrades you. the way it makes you feel powerful. like you have some control over him that no one else does. that you really make it hard for him to think of anything else. that you’re better than anyone else.

“fuck, ok i can’t wait anymore— take off your panties for me,” jay nods at you, standing up and zipping down his jeans.

you react quickly, lifting your hips off the bed to take off your underwear, flinging them on the floor. you keep your eyes on jay, his cock now being revealed as he pulls it out of his jeans. he’s already hard and dripping precum. you can tell that he must’ve been hard for a while, that your dress and your eye contact from across the room must’ve really turned him on. that he was telling the truth about him not being able to resist you.

jay pushes you back down to the bed, his hands grab your thighs to force them open. he stays standing, his feet on the floor as he moves to align his cock with your dripping pussy. he’s being so rough with you, you both know that you trust him to make you feel good. that he knows what you like.

“just be quiet— you don’t want ruby to hear, right?” jay grunts at you, staring right into your eyes as he glides his cock up and down your slick folds, gathering your sticky juices all over his dick.

“right, right,”

with that, jay slides his cock into you, not stopping until his cock hits your cervix. when he bottoms out he stays still for a moment, letting both of you adjust to his size. jay leans over your body, kissing you softly, gently. he pulls away after a minute, watching you flutter your eyes open to look at him again. he presses a kiss onto your forehead once before he stands up straight again.

jay makes sure he has a tight grip on your legs, holding them up before he starts to pull out of you, so slowly. both of you moan at the feeling of your wet pussy allowing his cock to slide so easily in and out of you. he pulls all the way out so just the very, very tip of his cock is still inside of you, before he slams back inside of you.

the harsh movement makes you cry out, shocking you from the surprise and the pleasure.

“shh, baby— ruby’s right next door.”

you cover your own mouth, trying to silence yourself as jay starts at a quick pace. jay’s hips move in a way that he’s sure makes his cock rub against your gspot. he hovers over you as he keeps your legs in the air. only his hips move as he fucks into you. his pants are just pooled at his ankles, both of you too desperate to get naked. both of you just need to feel each other, even with his ex girlfriend in the room right beside you.

“oh fuck, baby,” jay groans out, his eyes staring right at you as you keep your hand covering your mouth. your hand is successfully muting your moans, keeping your cover incase ruby or one of her friends overhears. you know this is wrong, fucking her ex boyfriend whilst she’s drunk next door. but it feels too good to stop. “is this what you wanted? wanted my cock soaked from your pussy?”

“y-yes, fuck yes.” you answer as quietly as possible, a moan threatens to escape your lips but your hand covers your mouth just in time to silence it.

even though you have to be quiet, and you and jay both know that you can’t control your moans too well, jay keeps talking to you, grunting out quietly in this random bedroom. “do you feel me in your tummy, baby? feel how fucking deep i am?”

you nod against the mattress, your eyebrows furrowed together as jay fucks you deeper and deeper. his cock was so long and so hard. you could feel it in the bottom of your stomach every time he slid back in. it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. the way your pussy takes him in so deep, clamping around it like it wants him to stay inside forever.

your pussy keeps tightening around jay, his own pleasure making him lose control. jay suddenly moves so your knees are pinned to the bed, caging your head in with your legs. he’s bent you into a ball, your pussy squeezed together by your legs, making it feel even tighter for him. you keep your eyes on jay, no where else to look since your legs are beside your head.

with the new position jay fucks deeper inside of you at a steady pace. he makes sure his cock slides all the way into your pussy before he slides back out. he wants his entire cock coated in your juices. he just loves how wet you get for him. he can already see your juices dripping out of your pussy. everytime he pulls almost all the way out of you, more of your juices dribble around your lips, spreading against your inner thighs.

jay’s grip on the back of your knees stays firm as he focuses on fucking you. both of you hear your moans against your palm— your palm moist from your saliva and sweat. you’re trying your hardest to stay as quiet as possible. but a part of you wishes that you could scream just as much as you wanted right now. because jay was fucking you so deep and it felt so fucking good. you’ve never been fucked from this angle before. like he’s genuinely drilling into you as he hovers above you.

“f-fuck,” jay’s voice is growling, he’s never felt this good in his life. he’s getting pussy-drunk just from the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him. just imagining his cock inside of you gets his mind foggy enough to not be able to think straight. so, being able to pound into you like this, keeping you still against the mattress as he fucks you, is enough to get him wasted. “i fucking love your pussy— it’s like it’s made for me.”

you nod at him, your body starting to feel like it’s on fire from your orgasm slowly building and building. jay leans closer to you, looking straight into your eyes as he demands, “say it— say your pussy is made for me, say that it’s mine.”

you take your hand off your mouth, clutching the blanket underneath you for support as jay keeps slamming into you. “my pussy is yours, fuck it’s only yours— just for you, just please don’t stop.”

jay grunts, loving how obedient you are for him. you’ll do anything he asks and it drives him wild. “fuck i won’t stop, baby— love the way you let me use this pussy, especially when ruby is right next door, fuck.”

you whimper out, reminding yourself that you have to be quiet. you bite down hard on your lip and grip the blanket underneath you tighter. if jay’s cock didn’t feel so fucking good inside of you you’re sure that your body would be sore from the position he has forced you in. if his hands weren’t pinning your knees to bend and stay right on the mattress on either side of your head, you’re sure that you’d whine from the loss of blood to your feet. but his cock is addicting to you— and by the way he’s groaning out quietly nonstop, you’re sure your pussy is addicting to him. that he can’t resist you. that he wants you and only you.

“i’m close, baby.” jay confesses, his eyes slanted as the pleasure builds within him. he takes one of his hands off your knees and moves so his thumb is pressed right onto your swollen clit. he starts to rough fast and hard circles on it. his thumb swishes against you at the same pace as his cock fucking deep inside of you.

you moan out quietly, biting your lip harder as you stare at jay. he looks so hot above you. he’s so focused on making you feel good and wanting to cum that his eyebrows are pushed together. he keeps his jaw flexed and he grits his teeth. it’s hard for him to be quiet too.

“can i cum inside of you, baby? please?”

“yes, yes please, jay.” you answer so quickly, “please cum inside of me, i want it so bad.”

“fuck, be quiet baby, unless you want ruby to hear you beg for my cum, is that what you want?”

you whimper out in response, “n-no, just want your cum dripping out of me, so bad.”

jay growls again, your words having a strong effect over him. “okay, okay— just cum on my cock for me then? can you do that? does it feel good like this?”

you nod, “y-yes, just keep rubbing my clit like that, please.”

jay does what you ask, keeping his thumb steady on your clit with your legs still in the air. his cock keeps sliding in and out of you over and over again. “cum on my cock, baby. wanna feel your pussy cum on my cock.”

with words send you over the edge, gripping onto his forearms to steady yourself as a huge wave of pleasure washes over you. your body spasms as your pussy clamps over his cock, the ball in your stomach snapping as you cum. jay moves quickly to cover your mouth with his hand, stopping you from screaming out. the orgasm that washes over you is powerful, the hardest you’ve ever cum before. your body feels like it's being electrocuted as you cum all over his cock. the entire time jay doesn’t stop from thrusting his cock in and out of you.

“f-fuck baby, i- i’m cumming,” jay grunts out, and within seconds you can feel his warm cum coat your pussy. he fills you up right to the brim. he still doesn’t stop thrusting, making sure to cover you’re entire pussy with his cum. he fucks his cum into you, making sure to mark you. making sure to mark his pussy.

jay doesn’t stop until you’re both panting and overstimulated. he keeps his cock lodged inside of you and finally drops your legs. your legs are limp and weak and fall right to the floor. jay leans over you, his own legs tired from standing over you this entire time. your chests are panting together, covered by clothes but you’re both sweaty and tired from cumming so fucking hard.

jay slowly pulls out, both of you watching as his cum drips out of you, making even more of mess of your abused pussy.

“fuck,” jay grunts out, “that’s so hot.” you whimper in agreement. jay leans over so his lips are almost against yours, “you’re such a slut for me, i love it.” you smile as he kisses you again. your mind feels foggy from the orgasm and the alcohol. jay pulls away and bends down to pull up his pants, button them again so he’s fully dressed. he sees your panties on the floor and picks them up, smirking as he touches the fabric.

“hey, give me those,” you giggle at him, sitting up on your elbows to try to grab them from his hands. jay only bites his lip, glancing between your pussy, soaked in his cum and your panties. “jay?”

“are you just gonna put these on? with my cum still in you?”

you gulp, the thought relighting a fire in you at the thought. you, walking around the party with jay’s cum dripping out of you. talking with ruby while her ex’s cum coats your entire inner thighs.

“give me them,” you repeat and stand up, easily taking them from jay. he watches you intently, curious about what you’re going to do. you bend down, stepping in your panties and sliding them back over your waist before pulling down your dress again.

“fuck,” jay says breathlessly, staring at your hips, knowing his cum is there. knowing that if anyone saw it, they’d wonder whose it was. knowing that you have been marked by someone— by him.

you laugh at his reaction, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him for another kiss.

“i’ll see you, later?” jay looks down at you, his eyes beaming happily.

“of course,”

jay kisses your nose once more, before he opens the door and looks down the hall, making sure no one was around before he smiles at you once, closing the door after him so you’re left alone in the bedroom. you look back at the bed, seeing that it’s a complete mess now from your squirming against it. you glance in the mirror briefly, patting down the back of your hair, wiping the fallen mascara under your eyes from the tears of your orgasm.

when you’re ready, and when you think it’s been long enough for people to not assume you and jay were in here together, you open the bedroom door and step into the hall. you first look at the bathroom right beside you. the door is completely closed now, but you can see that the light is still on it, the light shining through the cracks around the door frame.

you take a deep breath, glad that ruby wasn’t standing right there.

just as you think ruby went downstairs again, or maybe even left from throwing up, the bathroom door opens and ruby steps out. her hair is a mess and you can tell she had just been sick.

“oh, y/n, thank god,” ruby says, letting out a long sigh, “i was so worried, i know you don’t drink a lot so i thought you had gotten lost!”

“you were worried, about me?” you repeat, trying to understand.

“well yeah, one second you were there and the next you weren’t! i didn’t know what had happened to you! chaeryeong and dana went looking for you!”

“oh,” you can’t help but look taken aback, “i was just downstairs, i got lost in the crowd, you know.”

ruby pouts, “aw, i’m sorry! i threw up,”

you pretend like this is news to you, a false look of concern on your face, “oh no, are you okay?”

ruby shrugs, “i guess, i think i shouldn’t drink for a while.”

you try to not roll your eyes at her. you’ve heard this exact sentence from her a million times before.

“maybe you’re right. should we get you home then?”

ruby smiles and links her elbow with yours, “yeah that sounds good, do you wanna make ramen when we get home? i’m so craving it right now,”

you laugh at her, “what? you just threw up!”

ruby shrugs, “so? it tastes good,”

“whatever, but if you throw it up, don’t complain to me about it.”

ruby boops your nose with her finger, “never.”

on the way out of the house, you meet eyes with jay who’s sitting on one of the couches. you give each other a look that no one else would understand. no one knows what secret you’ve been keeping together. or that his cum is currently dripping down your leg.

ruby pulls you out of the house before you can stare too long at jay, or trip over the crumpled carpet from not paying attention. and even though ruby doesn’t stop talking to the uber driver the entire time home, you don’t listen to a word she says, you don’t think the uber driver listens either.

the feeling of jay’s cum drying to your inner thighs and pussy has you squirming in your seat. it had a thrill of excitement and risk swelling in your body. you’re glad ruby was still drunk or else she would’ve noticed your demeanor.

even though it’s only been less than an hour since your hook up with jay, you can’t stop repeating it over and over in your head. he was the perfect mix of rough and gentle. the way his lips feel on yours still tingles on yours. you drag your finger over your bottom lip, drawn to the feeling.

jay’s proposal of seeing you later runs through your mind. he actually wants to see you again. the way he was so eager and desperate to fuck you tonight has you spiraling. the way he called your pussy his. like, he actually wants you to be his.

it’s a dangerous thought that’s grows in your mind, but you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, jay wants exactly what you want.

since the party, you’ve not only wanted more of jay’s touch, but you’ve craved more of the feeling that you get when you’re with him. the feeling like you can do anything you want now that you know who you truly are. that you’re not meant to be someone else’s shadow— you’re meant to be the light that causes a shadow.

you used to pray for the construction workers to speed up the work they were doing on the roof of your apartment building, but if their slow work meant more opportunities for jay to slip his hand underneath your skirt in the back of the library, then you hope they take months.

though jay’s fingers fucking in and out of you made it hard for you to focus on how micro organisms affect how diseases spread in the human body, you didn’t mind since it got jay close to you. it got you to realize that you can do something that doesn’t fit the “good girl” persona ruby has forced onto you. that you can make your own decisions.

you spent more nights at his apartment, which let you sleep in longer since there was no power tools to wake you up. it let you and jay explore each others’ bodies more. it let jay be able to find your gspot perfectly every single time he entered you. he got you to come undone faster and faster every single time. you got to familiarize yourself with each and every vein that protruded off his hard cock. you know which parts of your tongue he likes to feel most wrapped around the tip of his cock as you suck him dry.

it let you and jay have more lazy morning sex before you both had to get up for class— even if that lazy morning sex was disrupted by his friends banging on his front door. the rush of adrenaline that you got as you snuck out of his apartment half naked with his bite marks on your chest and thighs as he distracted his friends with something in the kitchen.

the craving for the feeling and the physical pleasure jay gives you got you to text him in the middle of class telling him you need to feel his warm cum drip down your pussy in the back of his car in twenty minutes or else you will explode, with ruby right beside you. the feeling of finding yourself and sex was available whenever and wherever you wanted was addicting and possible if you kept it a secret.

at first, the high jay was able to give you felt like this all was the right thing to do to break out of the shell ruby has tricked you into. that doing something so out of question for you would help you grow as a person. but everytime jay pulls out of you and you walk home with your panties still left on jay’s bedroom floor, that achy craving feeling of the loss of that high gets more detrimental and inevitable.

when you have jay’s full attention, it feels like you can do anything, like you’re the centre of the world. the things he tells you and whispers in your ear just before he makes you cum for the one hundredth time. it makes you feel like you have everything you ever wanted— that you have jay.

but the truth is that you don’t have jay, not the one you want anyways.

you don’t want to sneak around with him, only being able to feel like this true self of yours when you’re alone with him. you want to be able to hold hands with him down the hallways at school, to dance with him at parties and hang out with his friends. stuff that he used to do with ruby.

you don’t want to stop what you have with jay, it feels too good when you’re with him, but it feels so bad when you’re not. you used to be able to enjoy being alone, you almost preferred it sometimes. but now it feels like the world is about to crash down when you’re left with yourself. like you don’t know who you are when you’re not in some secret world with jay that you and him have built.

at first this used to feel empowering, but now it feels like you’re pretending. that when you’re with jay you have to put on this persona that you’ve created just for him to be able to stand being around you. that without this persona jay wouldn’t touch you. yet, the pleasure you feel is so real, but the pain you feel is raw and visceral.

the secret you keep with jay can only help you grow as a person so much. it’s like you’ve outgrown this secret, but you crave more with jay. you want it to feel as raw and visceral with jay as does the pain you feel when you’re alone. you don’t want to become someone else in order to keep him, you want him to want you, not the version he thinks is the real you.

the secret can keep you alive for so long before it starts to rot inside of you until you can’t keep it hidden any longer.

you’ve never been the one to go out drinking alone. even when you’re with ruby you barely drink. maybe because you’re always her babysitter since she can never pace herself properly.

but tonight you’re tired of only being able to feel like some greater version of yourself when you’re with jay. and you’re tired of being in ruby’s shadow when you’re with her. you feel so many emotions at once and you’re just trying to figure out who you are and who likes you for the real you.

it took you a fourth shot for you to be able to start dancing at the bar downtown that you and ruby have gone to a few times before. the music started to sound better and your cheeks started to burn from the alcohol in your system.

a few girls started dancing with you, they were introducing themselves to you but you can’t remember their names. they told you to start drinking some mango cocktail that they were also having, which tasted so good you didn’t know how much vodka they were mixing in each one.

by the time your little drinking group had decided to head home, it was already 2am and you were wasted, but you didn’t want to go home just yet. without thinking for long, you type in jay’s address and order an uber to his apartment. you tried texting him that you’re coming over but you couldn’t find his name in your text messages.

when you get to his apartment and knock on his door you’re holding yourself up by leaning on the doorframe until he opens the door, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. he was shirtless and in those damn grey sweatpants that drove you crazy. even with his hair a mess you still wanted him.

“y/n?” jay grumbles, his voice hoarse from being woken up so abruptly in the middle of the night. “what’re you doing here?”

you pout at him, walking past him into his apartment that you’ve been at countless times before, “i want you, duh!” jay shuts the door as he turns around to face you. it’s so obvious that you’re wasted. your speech is slurred and eyes are glazed over, plus you smell like you’ve been at the bar for as many hours as you were. before jay can process what you want, you’re reaching up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pushing your lips onto his, something that you’ve done so many times before.

“w-wait,” jay puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back down onto your flat feet, pushing you off of him. “you’re drunk.”

you give him a dismissive snort, “i’m not that drunk.”

jay stares back at you unimpressed and not believing a word you say, “we’re not gonna fuck right now, y/n.”

you pout again, crossing your arms over your chest like a child as you stare up at him, “why not? you don’t want me anymore?”

jay puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to turn you around to walk you into his bedroom, “c’mon, lets lay down and sleep.”

“no!” you dig your heels into the floor, stopping him from taking you anymore. you turn to face him again, your face still pulled into a pout. “i want you. you don’t want me?”

“not when you’re drunk like this, baby, c’mon, let’s sleep.”

you can’t help but groan in frustration, pushing his arms off of your shoulders, taking a step back so he can’t persuade you to sleep with his touch.

“i thought you knew me, jay!” your voice rises, mainly due the alcohol in your system but also from the built up frustration and confusion you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks. “i thought you knew the real me, but i guess you don’t. no ever does.”

“y/n, please,” jay pleads, so obviously not wanting to deal with this right now, but his dismissal of you only fuels your anger more. “it’s not like that and you know it. let’s talk about it in the morning.”

“ugh,” you groan and step around him so you’re closer to the front door and further from his bedroom. “you always say ‘let’s talk later’ or ‘don’t over think this’. but, i can’t do that anymore. you don’t want me in public so we’ve been sneaking around for months. and now what? you don’t want me in private?”

“well what do you want me to, y/n?” jay finally snaps, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you, “you’re my ex’s best friend! i don’t know what to do! what—”

“then figure it out!” you cut him off, your narrowed eyes matching his, “figure out what you want! do you want me, or not? because i’m tired of secrets, sneaking around and pretending to be someone i’m not!”

jay’s face contorts into one that looks taken aback by your outburst. like he was never expecting this from you. which only proves to you that he doesn’t know you. he doesn’t know what you’re actually capable of. and maybe it’s time you figure out what you’re capable of on your own, without jay and the way he makes you feel.

before he can say anything else you turn and storm out of his apartment, not even bothering to close the door behind you. you just rush outside into the cool night air, thankful to be alone on the street as you kneel down onto the sidewalk, letting out confused tears that you’ve been holding onto for months.

you wanted to be seen, but instead you’ve become so hidden that you don’t even know who you are anymore.

it’s been a week since you’ve seen either jay or ruby.

you told ruby you’re suffering from a horrible, disgusting flu all week which made her stay far away from you and ask no further questions about your absence from school. there’s a big football game coming up so she needs to be in perfect shape for cheerleading and obviously can’t risk getting sick.

however, you’ve been radio silent from jay all week. the first few days after you had stormed out of his apartment as a drunk mess and told him to figure himself out, you were checking your phone every five minutes for a text from him. but a text never came.

you debated just giving in and calling him and apologizing for being a disaster, but you couldn’t force yourself to be so pathetic. you had left the ball in his court. jay was the one who had to come up with a solution to fix whatever this was you had going on with each other.

but with his current track record of ignoring ruby for weeks now, you figured you better give him some time before you completely give up on him, if he was even gonna answer you at all.

ruby texted you earlier that she’s gonna bring over some soup for you since you’re feeling a bit better after your “week long flu”, so you were laying on your couch waiting for her. maybe she’d stay awhile once she saw you in perfectly good health.

there was a knock on your door and you waited a second for ruby to burst in afterwards like she always does. but the door remains closed until another knock. you push yourself off your couch, wondering who could be at your door if it wasn’t ruby.

when you pulled open the door, you froze.

jay was standing there with a sheepish smile on his face. like he had known he wasn’t the one you’d be expecting at your door.

“hi, y/n.”

“jay, you can’t be here. ruby’s coming over.” you whispered harshly at him, glancing down the hallway in case she was near.

“i’ll make it quick.” jay pushes, and steps into your apartment. you grapple for words as you glance one more time down the hallway before closing your door and locking it.

“jay, seriously, she might see you leave here!”

jay shrugs, keeping his position as he stands in front of you. you can tell he doesn’t care if she sees or hears or even smells him. but you can’t say the same. it has you biting your lip with anxiety as you stand in the middle of your front door and jay.

“i’ve been thinking about what you said.” jay starts, his tone serious and eyes softening. “about all the secrets and sneaking around that we’ve been doing. and that you feel like you’ve been pretending to be someone.” he steps closer so he’s only inches away from you now, “i feel like that’s my fault. i’m sorry if i made you feel like you had to be someone else around me, i didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

you hold your ground even though you want to collapse into his arms and tell him that you’ve missed him all week. that you wished he would’ve just told you this sooner. but you keep your gaze hardened as you look up at him. “then what did you mean to do?”

jay reaches down for your hands, playing with your ring like he always does. you feel yourself almost give into his touch, but you pull your hand away. jay needs to speak for once. you’re tired of trying to decode all his actions to try to find out what he means. you want him to say it. like a man.

he looks taken aback a bit when you pull away from him. but he knows what you want. it’s just up to him if he can give that to you.

jay sighs, “you were right. i have to figure out what i want.” he keeps his eyes on you, soft and genuine. he takes your hands in his and this time you let him, not breaking eye contact with him. “i missed you, and i’m sorry for confusing you— but i do know you, y/n. i do.”

you feel your breathing pick up pace slightly and gently as jay leans in closer to you slowly, like he’s making sure you’re okay with this. when you don’t pull away from him he lets his lips meet yours for the first time in a week. the kiss is slow and sure and almost selfish.

but you close your eyes, letting yourself melt into his lips once again.

jay pulls away first, his eyes seeming genuine as he looks down at you, scanning your face like he’s missed looking at your features all week.

“i am sorry, y/n.”

you nod in understanding, letting yourself smile. he smiles at your quiet response, his hand cupping your jaw so his thumb brushes against your lips swiftly.

“okay, i’ll go.”

you wrap your arms around yourself instinctively, letting him walk past you to the door. he opens it and stands in the doorframe for a second, glancing back at you like there’s more he wants to say. he opens his mouth to speak, but closes it, his gaze shifting to the floor before looking back up at you. “don’t overthink too much, okay? you always do that.”

you nod once more to him before he closes the front door after him, leaving you alone in your apartment.

you don’t get a chance to take in the faint sizzle on your lips that jay had left— your ring still twisted on your finger from his anxious fiddling as he spoke before there’s a knock on your door again. when the door is pushed open automatically you aren’t surprised to see ruby, but you wish she had given you another minute to pull yourself together after seeing jay.

“they didn’t have chicken noodle,” ruby pouts, “but they had tomato!” she holds up a plastic bag with an overenthusiastic smile.

“perfect, i love warm ketchup.”

ever since ruby came over and watched the rerun episode of love island with you, she’s been obsessed with the new season coming out tonight. so you picked up some chips and candy to watch the season premiere with ruby at her apartment.

you looked forward to sinking into the couch with your best friend, watching shitty romance reality tv like nothing had ever changed between you two. like you haven’t been hooking up with jay for months now. you needed some normalcy in your life, especially now that jay had apologized to you. it felt like a new start for both of you.

“ruby!” you call out as you open her apartment door, “i got you sour patch kids! the ones with gross watermelon that you lik—” you stop mid-sentence as you look up from the plastic bag you were carrying, almost dropping said bag when you see who’s sitting on the couch.

“y/n!” ruby greets you excitedly, stepping out from the kitchen grinning from ear to ear. she was glowing almost. like the grey storm cloud that was overhead had finally dissipated. “look who’s here!”

you take a second glance at the couch, wondering if you had mistaken the person for him. but when your eyes met his, you knew there was no mistake.

he was sitting on ruby’s couch. in the exact same spot he use to sit in months ago, his arm thrown over the back of the couch as he smiled sheepishly at you.

“jay?” you finally speak, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah!” ruby nods with a little jump, “can you believe he’s here?”

you’re unable to speak as you look between ruby and jay, trying to understand what is going on. ruby’s laughter breaks you out of your trance. she turns to jay, “she’s more shocked than i was!” you hear jay laugh but you don’t look at him. you’re too busy realizing that ruby is back to her same old self, like a ray of sunshine that can’t stop smiling. you haven’t seen her this gleeful in months.

“oh! and y/n,” ruby comes up to you, grabbing your shoulders with her hands, “look!” she shoves one of her hands in your face and it’s impossible to miss what she’s showing you. “we’re engaged!”

the clear diamond sat right in the middle of a silver band slid right onto ruby’s ring finger.

“w-what?” your eyes scan quickly between ruby and jay. you unconsciously take a step back, heading back into the apartment’s door frame, like your mind and body are fighting if you should stay or run away.

“isn’t it amazing!”! ruby beams, her face contorted into a huge smile as she stares at the ring on her hand, “and it’s all thanks to you!”

“thanks… to me?”

“yeah! jay told me that you talked some sense into him,”

your focus is back on jay who is now standing up from his spot on the couch, walking over to stand next to ruby.

“yeah, i told her how you told me to figure out what i want.” jay’s smile is tight lipped as he glances between you and ruby. “and this is what i want.” he wraps his arm around ruby’s waist, where it’s been so many times before. it’s safe and comfortable and easy. “i want to settle down and not hide my feelings.”

ruby smiles at jay in a way that makes your stomach turn. jay kisses her on the cheek and he whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle before he turns back to you, “and i couldn’t have realized that without you, y/n. thank you for being such a good friend.”

friend.

“right, thank you for always being there for me, y/n. you really held me together these past few months,” she elbows jay in the side playfully. “and now you’ll help me plan this wedding right!” ruby comes up to you, grabbing your hands in hers as she jumps up and down.

you’re in too much shock to respond properly, your gaze continually flicking back and forth between both of them, trying to recognize either of the people standing in front of you. “y/n?” ruby’s voice says your name mixed with concern. “are you okay?” “um,” you step back into the hallway, away from ruby’s touch. she pouts as you force her to drop your hands, “i’m just, not feeling well. i think i’ll go home and watch love island from there, if that’s ok.”

“oh,” ruby’s face remains in a pout, “okay, you were just starting to feel better again, too.”

“yeah, yeah— um, i’m so happy for you, but i have to go, okay?” you drop the plastic bag of snacks on the floor beside your feet, not being able to hold them anymore with the way your body starts to feel numb.

“okay?”

“see ya, y/n.” jay calls from over ruby’s shoulder, but you don’t look at him as you turn and make a beeline straight to the apartment building’s stairs, not even bothering to wait for the elevator.

you rush down the flights of the stairs, tears brimming your eyes the entire way down. your hands are trembling as you hold onto the stair railing. the exit door feels like a sanctuary as you reach it and push it open— feeling the cool air on your skin. the door hits the wall behind it as you push it open with far too much strength.

you’re panting as you stand still, jay’s face and ruby’s ring still imprinted in your mind, replaying over and over again.

a sudden drop of water landing on your cheek has you glancing upwards to the sky. the sun was covered by a dark grey cloud, the rain just starting to patter down now. the pavement slowly turns darker as the rain picks up as you stand there, your jaw dropped as you feel like it must be some cruel prank.

friend.

the word sounds foreign in your mind coming from jay’s lips. were you guys even friends in the first place? or were you always just ruby’s boyfriend and best friend?

it felt like you guys had gone from strangers to lovers to strangers who know everything about each other. like the way his tongue felt against your neck. the way he’d wash his body first and then his hair in shower. he knew your secrets— you shared the biggest one.

the worst part that was beating at your hear the most was how you believed everything he said. you thought he saw you and knew the real you and not the version that ruby and everyone else thought you were. you thought he’d help you grow into the version of a woman that he knew you could be, even if you didn’t. even if you didn’t like that version.

jay messed with your mind. and for what?

to get back at ruby?

just in the end for him to go back to her? to go back to the easiest version of love that he could, where there were no risks? just familiarity.

you don’t take another step before you collapse onto your knees on the wet pavement, the rain splattering around, soaking your hair and clothes, mixing with your tears. you wanted to scream loud enough to erase everything that had happened in the past few months— all the agony and secrets and pleasure.

you yearned for the past version of yourself that you knew. the version that didn’t hate being alone. that didn’t need jay’s attention to feel like she was worth something. that didn’t feel like she was self sabotaging herself by allowing herself to be put into her best friend’s shadow.

your sight is blurry from your tears and the rain as you stare down at your hands when you realize: you have no idea who you are.

if you aren’t ruby’s good girl best friend and you’re not the carefree girl that jay chooses— then who are you? especially now that you’re alone.

it’s just you, curled on the pavement in the pouring rain as the grey cloud hovers above you, taking away the last bit of your sunshine. the loud rain helps you think and realize that you never want to feel like this again.

you stand slowly, clothes wet and sticking to you. there’s no one around, no one to come after you or ask if you’re okay. but maybe that’s what you need. you don’t need anyone else in order to fulfill your identity.

so you walk away from all the versions of yourself that are tied up in that apartment that were never truly yours and you don’t look back. you don’t want to go back. ever.

@ taeghi, 2025. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

my bffs <3 : @awqken @caratstick @021894s @jaehoonii @hees-love @hollyoongs @hvseung

@simpjaes @jaylaxies

taglist : @tender-is-the-moon @chrisbangsass @manuosorioh

@ewsnup @k1ttyjwon @bbokaricentral @serenarena999

@starry-eyed-bimbo @smlbch @nthxhoon

@bkatarina @kyunlov @enhxlvr @fancypeacepersona

@httpenhoon @stta-princess @girlwholovekpop @rosepetals09

@urmomdotcom5678 @tmtxtf @jayrelics @petalsofink

@babygguk98 @hoonprksung @cherryflavoured--nbhd

@kimjkejyy @yuwuuta @chuuyaobsessed

@miyababbby @nunu-jjong @lilyofthevalley69

@beomgryus11 @is2ikeu @immelissaa @jayrelics

@kayjiguki @aeiogissssakuu

@kimjkejyy @haeblossoms @nenemura @deobitifull @vernonburger

@iluvikeu @skaterhoon @shiningnono

@yangkits @onlyhees @mirramirra @cherry-park

@jiawji @yongbokified @minniejenseo @jayienn

@withtanxp @jenojammin @emogrlsworld

@onlyticket-home @june19190 @kalizzz @jakessrealwife

@heeseungissm @jxkiee @firstclassjaylee

@awesomereginaa-blog @fluerz @jxkiee

@norihoyeon @cirsle19 @ni-kicism

@17ericas @minaateez @ja3yunslvr

2K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 3 months ago

Text

I CAN'T - I JUST CAAANNTTT

MONEY POWER GLORY -l.hs, p.sh-

Given the opportunity to tackle the biggest headline yet—you knew this would be the breakthrough of your career. Not the breakthrough of your love life.

pairing— athlete!heeseung x journalist fem!reader x athlete!sunghoon

genre: smut minors do not interact, athlete au, athlete rivalry, p with plot, hockey player!sunghoon, basketball player!heeseung

wc: 23.4k

warnings: profanity, toxicity, manipulation, possessiveness, kissing, morally ambiguous characters

smut warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, two sex scenes, praising, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, oral (f rec.), dry humping, body worship, dom!heeseung, dom!sunghoon, light choking, creampies, breeding kink, usage of nicknames (baby, babe, princess, good girl)

lily’s note: after so long it’s finally here!! sorry for it taking a while but i hope you can enjoy it!! also special thanks to @vampsol for making the banner <3

“Our star players”

Forced to stare at the large group picture hanging dead center and with no choice you zeroed in on the two distinct males standing side by side. Neither showing even a crack of a smile as they looked straight ahead.

Something inside of you twisted nastily as you couldn’t seem to switch between eyes from looking at one to the other. When you glanced over to the male on the left, you could see he was sleek, clothing neatly arranged to drape over his body that accented his proportions perfectly.

The slender legs that popped out by the strikes of muscles lining up from his calf all the way up to his knee where a peek of his quads showed hiding beneath the rolled up sweatpants.

The long navy blue sleeved shirt pushed back by his arms resting behind his back with a pumped chest through the fabric. You roamed around his face for a second longer than you’d like to admit to count the specs of mole over his face that the camera managed to pick up.

For the most part, his face was relaxed but what struck you were his blaring eyes that spoke straight to you.

“That’s Park Sunghoon” You felt a jab at your side, “Pretty good looking right” This was able to knock you out of your daze before looking over at your boss smiling at the picture with sparkles in her eyes, “Doesn’t really talk much but his career only goes up from here on out”

You didn’t respond, opting for a quick nod before looking back at the picture to observe the male on right this time. This time he looked more uncomfortable than Sunghoon. Arms were stiff at his side, a clear steer away from the male at his side but he held a sharper yet softer look with his big and round eyes that were filled with a wonder in them that stirred something in you.

His hair was messily disheveled, poking out in different directions but still effortless on camera. The captured sweat glistened from the camera light to show how it slid from his chin and neck, all the way down to his flimsy tank top that outlined his body while he wore baggy basketball shorts that reached his knees.

Your fingers dug into your palm when you noticed the streak muscle dividing his biceps and triceps apart from each other.

“And that’s Lee Heeseung” Your boss’ tone shifted into a heavy sigh with a hint of restriction in it

“More outspoken but keeps more so keeps himself but his career…” She sucked a breath as she stared at the male, “It’s promising. So damn promising” She muttered the last words before clearing her throat and patting your back that woke you up from the daydream you were in

“Let’s see what you make up for those two” You see her toothy grin which caused an unsettling feeling to rest in your stomach but you pushed it aside and gave a tight smile

She retracted her hand away after giving one last pat on your shoulder, not in a comforting reassuring way but more of a warning to not mess up.

“You know it’s a good thing what you’re doing. Choosing to step up when you know this is out of your paygrade” You couldn’t even respond before she turned a heel and walked out without a glance

You jumped from whatever was near as your mouth swished side to side to rid the thought in your mind. You looked back to the large cover page of Lee Heeseung and Park Sunghoon with your name embroidered at the faded corner. Your publication. The soon to be the biggest achievement and success story that came to life that hung for all the office to see it in all its pride and glory.

Two proud aspiring rising stars in the making that you now have the luxury and privilege of getting first hand knowledge on them.

$$$

Biting down harshly on the retractable pen as you watched the clock tick closer to 5:30 in the afternoon. It was well over 30 minutes of waiting and the lack of perception on time cranked something in you.

Your teeth continuously clamped down on the retractable push tugging at it softly as it settled in your mind with being alone with your thoughts for far too long—Being a good person is never too far out of reach for you, but being a good friend and coworker was beyond what you know.

Still you weren’t sure why you decided to cover for your friend and take care of her burden on the catalogue when the time came, especially when it’s far from your original department and way more than your original paycheck.

Perhaps it was the extra need of money you blindly needed and accepted without much thought or the grander possibility of reaching the last push needed to put your name on the map like how you’ve desperately wanted for so long.

Endless possibilities the more you think about it but none of them plausible to satiate you.

However, when you caught sight of the highlighted name on the paper before moving to the file picture of his face. The initial worry faded away as excitement creeped through your veins.

“It's a little risky to be doing that, isn't it?” The voice made you freeze and all goosebumps imaginable rise to coat your skin

Slapping a hand over the paper you were just looking at to see the big eyes that gleamed with a hidden mischief in them, the plop of his hair to the side leaving little room in between for his forehead to show beside a prominent mole to make itself known.

While it may have been a prejudice to expect for him to show up in practice uniform but to your pleasant surprise, he wore fitted clothing that accentuated his height and fit a style different from how he presents himself on the court.

When you looked up to him to catch the big eyes boring right into yours with the gleam of his smirk as he took a stride closer to you. His hand gripped the opposite end of the pen hanging through your teeth, “Let go” He softly said making you realize if you weren’t careful you’d end up like everyone else–slipping and falling deep in the gutter

Your hand gripped the little bare space of the pen left and snatched it with a polite and friendly smile. “Mr. Lee, good evening”

Your voice strained making you cringe at yourself but you needed to be nice even if you were waiting on him. “Very glad you could make it” Heeseung on the other hand picked up on the passive aggressive tone as he remained silent to stare at his hand that once held the pen,

“Management wanted me to come, says it’s good for publicity” He laughed before pulling out the seat in front of you, “Wasn’t much I could do or say to get out of it”

He sucked in his teeth when he took the seat, his index finger tapping against his chin as if he were deep in thought, “I don’t think I’ve heard your name in the sport catalogs though, who else have you interviewed?”

He expected an answer, you could see that from him. But you skipped past it, “Well luckily for you, I won’t take too much of your time” You sorted out the papers in front of you before grabbing your notepad and circling his name at the top

You snuck a glance up to him when you thought he wasn’t looking even when he was, you still jotted down ‘Impulsive or Calculated?’ under his name before fully looking up with a smile to be met with a light frown etched on his face.

“You and I both know that's far from the truth. This is going to take months to cover so you won’t take so much of my time today but soon you will be placed into my weekly schedule just to get insider scoop of me” Heeseung folded his arms and huffed loudly when he slumped down in his seat

You didn’t focus on whatever he was saying instead you reread the questions your supervisor created for you to ask in this interview to ensure the ‘success’ of the story.

“So Mr. Lee why don’t you tell me-” Heeseung cuts you off with a hand up, the frown pulling further down his mouth into a distasteful scowl and your brows knitted in confusion as you looked at him

“Just call me Heeseung and please spare us from all the vague question bullshit”

“Why don’t you just ask me your questions, mhm? What do you want to know about me?” The emphasis of the you in his sentence left you dumbfounded, “Don’t like every writer have their own stuff they want to ask but are forced to follow a script”

You couldn’t even manage to get a word in as he continued. He leaned forward on his elbows and tilted his head to the side with a bright smile that showed all his teeth.

“Let’s make this actually worth our wild so go ahead and ask me the questions I know you have listed out for me and not the ones your boss thinks will do numbers”

It must’ve shown on your face that he nailed it right on the money to leave you like this so speechless but impress nevertheless. The corners of his mouth inched upwards when you wordlessly switched the scripture your boss printed out for you and slipped underneath the pile of paper before scourging for the list he somehow knew you had.

“Knew you had one” He muttered under his breath while he watched you adjust yourself in your seat and mimicked his exact position

Both of you leaned in so close to each other that your breaths fanned over another, a deep stare into each other’s eyes curling his insides in itself.

“You once stated in an interview 4 years ago that you’re to be the greatest living player society has ever seen in a decade. Especially emphasizing with runner up star hockey player Park Sunghoon” The once secured smirk of his faltered, his prominent adam's apple bobbing up and down to the question

With the mention of Sunghoon, Heeseung leaned back on the chair, slightly adjusting himself in it to only awkwardly clear his throat. You watched his every move, noting his body language at the mention of Sunghoon’s name.

“What makes you so sure that you are?”

He closed his eyes and moved his head as if to rack his brain for some type of held back response before he looked at you with a grin, “Stats. Articles. Awards. Common sense?” He shrugged his shoulders like it was the most known thing, “Don’t you think so?”

“Those all come from outside opinions. None of it comes from you and I want to know what you think” He scoffed a smile in response, you were called all kinds of names before blunt, rude, mean, anything you could think of

And yet, it’s your driving force to get what you want.

For Heeseung, a crazed look glimmered over his eye as he folded his arms across his chest before stretching them to the chair and gripping the sides.“I don’t need to think that I am. I know that I am” He let out a toothy grin, “Does that work for you?”

You stared at him for a moment before breaking the eye contact to write down another bullet point under his name, ‘Cocky but maybe for the right reason’

You crossed your legs over each other with a raise of your eyebrow as you pointed your pen pointing towards him, “But if you so claim to be the best, how come you haven’t skyrocketed in popularity unlike competitor Park Sunghoon?” You sucked at your teeth with a tilt of your head to look back at the male ahead

“He seems to be doing fantastic if we’re talking data-wise, he’s been carrying his team to championship success, lined up brand deals left and right to being one of the highest paid athletes this year alone and, his popularity through the roof both inside and outside the country”

“You claim to be the best due to statistical evidence and while yes in your department, you are high up there” You leaned back into your chair further, “But outside of the basketball court, what do you offer?”

The toothy grin he gave you faltered before etching into a more sinister smirk, impressed on the confidence you were emitting. “Is this your way of saying that I bring nothing to the table of what society suspects of me just because I’m an athlete?”

You shrugged your shoulders with a pull of your mouth back to hide your smile, “Not confirming nor denying”

He threw his back in a laugh, “I guess you can say that I don’t allow myself to be molded by society into being another pretty face for them to idolize” Heeseung sighed before moving his head to side making his hair frame out of his eyes, “I have a job to do unlike that hockey player you keep mentioning”

Your gaze narrowed at the hint of venom in his voice to be an athletic rivalry before the corner of your lips tugged up into a sly smile. With your pen gliding over to the bottom of the paper to discreetly scribble a note that you were now sure of, prosperity.

$$$

The bright screen of your laptop burned your eyes for how long you’ve been staring at the empty document. For the time spent in the same spot, just to have nothing was making you irritated and your head pound.

You can’t write a single thing down for either of them. What happened to your touch or maybe it was their personas weren’t as captivating as people made it out to be, especially in the eyes of actual journalism.

There were no hooking starters that would catch anyone’s attention without being repetitive with all their other interviews. ‘Star Hockey Heartthrob Park Sunghoon Sweeps Nations Hearts’ or ‘Lee Heeseung: Not Only Scores Baskets but Also Championships’. All bullshit headlines for the same repeating answers and questions.

All of them are unoriginal and you wouldn’t succumb to that. You groaned loudly as you dragged a hand over your face but the moment you rested your hand back on the keyboard, your phone rang.

You were going to ignore it at first but after the 3rd call you huffed loudly and saw the unknown number calling before finally answering it with an annoyed sigh, “Hello?”

“For a minute I thought you weren’t going to answer me” You pulled your phone from your ear at the smugness bled through the phone and your tensed shoulders softened before letting out a laugh

“Now how did you get my number Heeseung”

“Just a few clicks over here, a little bit over there until I found you. You weren’t that hard to find” Heeseung chuckled and through the on-going line you heard shuffling before he let out a low groan

“Where are you right now?”

“You sure sound eager to know why? Going to keep me company?” His teasing tone made your roll your eyes which he swore he could feel on his end

“Why did you call me?”

A loud hiss from the other side of the call at the standoffish tone you used made your lips curl up to the side, “Ouch aren’t you supposed to be nice and sweet? What happened to the warm greetings”

“I am supposed to be your client”

You let out a scoff loud enough for him to hear, “Well you are calling sometime in the night while I’m trying to work so you’re being a disruption”

“Well I just wanted to call to see how you were doing” He gave a false sweetness to his words which you didn’t believe

“You mean you want to know how the story is coming along, don’t you?”

“Well I mean… I didn’t say that, you put those words in my mouth”

“I just won’t deny or admit anything” Heeseung copied what you said to him during your first meet and you were impressed he even remembered

“Well as we are speaking, there has been a straight line on a blank screen blinking for the past 4 hours so how does that sound for ya?”

“Sounds like you’re making excellent progress in my opinion” You snickered at his comment which made him heartily laugh

You leaned back on your chair with a heavy exhale that his phone managed to pick up, “Not in the absolute slightest”

There was a moment of silence until his voice peaked out in a much softer tone, “Sounds like you need to take your mind off it. Staring at the screen won’t make the story start typing itself”

“Then what do you suggest Heeseung mhm? I don’t think there’s much to do at this time”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re talking to me, I know my way around”

“Are you asking to take me out?” You raised an eyebrow and placed your hand under your arm as you turned around in your chair

“If you want it to be then yes. If you don’t want it to be then no”

The seriousness in his tone made you giggle. You tugged up on your bottom lip as your smile slipped on through, “Sure”

And you thought this would mean punctuality, that for someone who cares a lot about time on the court would also have the same urgency outside of it. But having to keep checking the time counting down the seconds until the next minute came, you let out a frustrated huff.

All talk about being on time when he’s late himself.

Noticing the lack of appearance by Heeseung, you rolled your eyes, finding your actions foolish for even coming out this late to meet with him. You turned a heel to head back home when your name was loudly shouted from the side.

Looking over your shoulder, there was Heeseung jogging up to you as he motioned for you to wait.

He watched how you scoffed at him and turned your back at him. He cursed under his breath before quickening his pace to stop in front of you, making you stop in your tracks, “Woah. Woah, where are you going?”

You stared right into his eyes to see the softness and actual apologetic expression he had. Your frown faltered for a second but you stopped from giving in. “You said be here by 12. In case you haven’t noticed it’s about to be 1” You pushed his hands that hovered over your arm in a huff

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry” He rushed out in one breath, “My manager called me about having a match tomorrow and I had to work out the details before I could leave” His eyes pleaded at you as his mouth unconsciously form a pout

You stared at him as his lips unconsciously tugged downwards easing into a smile when you let out a breathy sigh with an obvious roll of your eyes to show your annoyance. “Next time be on time” His frown turned upside down

“Next time?” You picked up on the teasing tone and you had to hold back another roll of your eyes again as you poked at his side making him yelp in surprise

He stared at you in shock before bursting out into a laughter that prompted your own smile, “Never had a journalist poke me at my side”

“There’s always a first for everything” You softly hummed as he glanced over to you with a much softer smile

“Yeah… There’s always the start of something new” His voice trailed into a silent hushed, the lull of his head felt light but his body felt heavy

A contrast he didn’t know before but swore he could get use to.

$$$

Heeseung enjoyed it far more than he would like to admire because it was dizzying having his mouth in contact with your skin. He was only supposed to walk you to your front door after bringing you to an underground 24/7 ramen place where there were little to no interactions.

Usually he doesn’t show anyone else but it was the only thing that came to mind and he didn’t expect to have a nice conversation with you that didn’t involve anything about his career. Everything was just about him or you, stories that were forgotten but brought up for the night.

And he told himself he was walking you all the way back to make sure you got in safely when he lives on the whole opposite side but he wasn't sure who leaned into who first but the soft plush of your lips against his cheek wiped all thoughts from his mind.

He screwed his eyes shut, his hands finding your waist as he flushed your body closer to his, molding perfectly to each other. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers playing with the tips of his back hairs as he tilted his head and pressed his lips harder against your skin.

Your soft sounds surrounded the two of you and he was drinking it up. Lack of oxygen being the least concern because now that he’s gotten a taste of you, he doesn’t think he can ever give them up.

Heeseung continued to dig into the flush of your sides in protest when you yanked his hair to pull him away from the repeated bites he gave towards your neck. “Stop biting” You warned but he was too far gone to listen, “I’m serious, I can’t walk around with hickeys all over my neck”

“Then I’ll put them where no else could see them but me” He slurred the words noticing the discoloring onto your skin, “You look so pretty with my marks on you”

Your cheeks burned and you pulled at his shirt but he didn’t budge. He leaned back into you and attached his mouth to your jaw, trailing to the bone until he was at your cheek.

Your heart rate was through the roof, fingers roughly tugging at the stretched shirt when he neared your lips. You turned your head away, throwing it back in a sultry gasp. Heeseung pulled away from the corner of your mouth and looked at you with surprised eyes

“Let’s move this inside” He mumbled between the open kisses on your neck before opening your door and guiding you in while you yanked your keys out of the lock right before he closed the door with his foot

“You’re not wasting time, are you?” You giggled when he hooked his arms under yours, you felt him shake his head as you pulled him further into your place

“Why would I? It’s you” Your heart fluttered harshly against your chest, you didn’t know why but you were too caught up in something else that you moved past him

You yelp when your body is met with the table, you peered over your shoulders to see your discarded laptop opened with papers scattered all around it. You were going to move out of the side when his hand extended out and closed your computer shut, “You won’t be needing that for now” He chuckled, his hands moving in to the corner, the papers scattering to your floor before he pushed your body onto the table

Slotting himself in between your legs clasping them around his lower back keeping him in place. “Don’t worry babe, I’m not going anywhere”

“Good” You dragged his collar, he yelled at the roughness but when you licked a stride over his adam apple his body became pliant on top of you

You hissed the more his fingers dug into your sides, a grip so tight that you swore you could feel him poking inside—ironically. “Heeseung”

He hummed when you called out his name, “What happened baby?” He chuckled darkly into your ear leaving goosebumps to rise on your face

You rocked your hips upwards to meet his. You moaned when his dick rubbed against your clothed self, you couldn’t stop, too caught up in the feeling you continued to rock your hips harder and faster.

Heeseung groaned each time you grazed him with your pussy. It was so sweet, so warm, so wet. “Drenching my pants there baby”

Wrapping your arms over his shoulder to bury your head in the crook of his neck to hide the embarrassment. The tight grip at your waist faded away, you pitifully whined making Heeseung laugh at your need.

He gripped the edge of the table rocking his body forwards to meet your weak thrust. Your fingers dug into his back when droplets of sweats landed onto your chest. Each push of his cock into your clothed self left you moaning with a care in the world.

“Need you- Please” You tried to pull his shirt up but he forced your arms off around him and planted them up next your head, you stared at him with wide eyes when stopped his incomplete thrust

“Don’t get frustrated with me, you started this” When you were going to complain, you sucked in a sharp breath at the harsh grind against your body, “Now we’re going to end it”

He rubbed himself all over your clothed core, the juts near your clit making you wail as he continued to reluctantly shove into you. The bulge pushed through the restraints of your pants and underwear to poke between your folds.

Throwing your head back onto the table with a hard thud, your back growing stiff and aching as you attempted to match his tempo to ultimately fail.

You’ve had your share of hookups before to relieve the buildup but nothing compared to this.

“Fuck I can feel you fluttering around me” Heeseung groaned loudly, the hands that held your arms up transferred to one head as he pinned them above your head while his other hand palmed over your clit

“Heeseung!” You squealed in his name withering under his touch, your legs growing weak around his body but jolted his body forward when you tried to pull away

“Don’t fucking stop- Give it to me” He rooted his lower half connected to yours, your fingers scratched the back of his hand, red streaks left in its wake because of you, “Come on baby”

Your grinds grew fervent against his rocking body, the stimulation making you hyper-aware of everything along the spews coming from him when his plunges grew messy.

“Who knew that you’d fucking love this” He laughed, a dark one that made your insides scream more for him, “Rubbing yourself all over me like some desperate virgin”

You shake your head but the moans that slipped past your swollen lips from how much you bit on them would say otherwise. “No? You're a good girl?”

Nodding at his question, he chuckled before rubbing harder down on the bundle of nerves. Moving your body side to side as you felt a growing bubble in your abdomen, you knew what it meant and Heeseung did too.

“Then fucking come like one”

Your screwed eyes shut mouth falling slack as you rut harder against his clothed cock until you arched off the table, your loudest moan ripping out of you. Heeseung muttered ‘fuck’ when you held him closer to you—using him to get yourself off even more.

His slender fingers unbuttoned your pants and fiddled with the zipper to slip into them and when he found the swollen pulsing bundle of nerves, he grinned wildly, his cheeks hurt from how wide it was. He loosened his hand holding your wrist.

Instantly, you clawed at his back when he discarded one artifact to rub over the thin layer covering your clit. You mewled weakly, each jerk over your body causing more friction in between. “Wanted to help you out” The fallacious innocence contradicted his actions but who were you to complain?

The sensitiveness made you grow pliant under him, the movement of his slow rocking hips and working fingers made your nails push past his shirt and to his skin that you were sure would leave indents.

Too aware and dissociated, you felt the tingling feeling in your lower stomach, an ache growing in you of a need to be filled. “Heeseung. Heeseung. Heeseung” You chant his name like it was the only thing you know

And it made his heart hammer out of his chest, the weak call of his name leaving your lips made him grin when he huffed a laugh directly into the shell of your ear. “Say my name baby”

However, the moment stopped and he ripped his hand out of your pants and put as much distance as possible from your moving lower half.

“Heeseung!” You frustratedly yell and lazily lift your head to see his wicked grin

“Can’t have you coming twice just like that, need to feel it around my cock” The laugh made you frown but inside of you felt giddy, excitement coursing throughout your body

“Then do something about it” You snapped but you yelped when he pushed his legs off of him and hooked his fingers under your loosened pants and panties, swiping you of them in one go

Attempting to cover the new bare exposure but before you could fully close your legs, he grabbed your gunner's thigh and bared you to him which you didn’t protest. He underestimated himself big time now that he was faced with your glistening folds, shimmering by the dim lamp.

“Looks like you won’t even need prep…” He sighs heavily, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your skin, your cheeks burned with how focused he was on you, “So pretty”

“Heeseung” You whined using your hands to cover your face and he laughed, his hand stretching out and peeling them away to see you

“Yeah… Absolutely gorgeous” He told when looking straight into your eyes

Your face dropped watching how his eyes flickered between your mouth and eyes. You nervously gulped, your hands resting on his shoulders, fiddling with the shirt before tugging upwards on it.

His shirt hiking up, he smirked when he noticed what you were doing. “You could’ve said so” He murmured when his hand ran up your side and under your shirt, “But I’m pretty sure it works both ways”

When his roughed yet soft hands touched your skin, you hissed. Like fire burning, you yanked his shirt higher and pulled it over his head while he did the same. A silence surrounded the two of you when you pushed yourself up on your elbows and he backed away.

Heeseung admired your figure. Only left in your bra, he felt all thoughts thrown out the window to be nothing. The relationship that was meant to be strictly professional was squished to the ground. He reached out and played with the strap of your bra, the elastic running under his hand as he slid it off.

You watched his movements, not daring to move an inch while he did all the work. He reached behind and unclasped your bra with no hesitation, instantly the undergarment slipped down your arms, exposing your unmarked chest to him.

Without a moment to waste, he attached his mouth to your chest, sucking into the soft nipple before running his tongue over it, hardening instantly. Heeseung fondled with the other, his fingers twisting the nub making your jolt, “Heeseung” You meekly sigh as he nibbled on the flesh

Spit accumulated at the corners of his mouth as he messily made out with your tit, he bit harsher making you squeal but not moving from his mouth. Heeseung gripped at your breast tightly, quickly getting lost in the feel of the plush squishing his face.

You jerk harshly when he bites down on your breast and you look at him with a frown while he looks up at you with gleaming eyes. “Look even nicer with my marks”

“I told you I’d leave it places only I can see”

You roll your eyes but the initial thought faded out when he pulls at your hips to the edge of the table, “Turn around for me”

Not daring to go against him in worry that he’d leave you high and stranded, you complied and stood up on wobbly legs before turning your body around. Yet, the moment you did, he carefully pushed you down to the wood. Your face squished on the side as you gripped the edges.

Unable to see him, your heart pounded into the table but the air got caught in your throat when he gripped one side of your ass and pulled it up, exposing the glistening of your pussy to him.

You mewled loudly when he took a long stride up, collecting the leaking juices onto his taste buds. “You even taste sweet too” You shivered from his rumbling voice, “So fucking sweet”

Your nails dug into the wood beneath you. Anticipation grew by the second, you tried to peer behind to see him but he pressed his palm flat on your upper back, his free gripping your hips as he swallowed up your juices. Your knees caved into each other that you would’ve fallen if it weren’t for the table holding you up.

The obscene noises filled the room, each drag of his tongue caused an enormous sensation in you. Softly wailing his name every now and then whenever he keeps his face buried in your cunt, not letting up until you weakly kick him away.

Loud pants followed by his chuckle made you hide your face into the table disregarding the discomfort but when you heard the buckles of his belt, your heart raced and legs squished together.

“Right here with you” He attempted to reassure and block out the drop of his pants to the ground, you gripped harder on the edge while squeezing your eyes shut

Heeseung grabbed the base of his length and dragged the tip over your folds coating and smeared your arousal everywhere on you and him. You moaned, feeling it tease your hole, the small stretched nearly enough for you to cum alone, embarrassingly.

He groaned, feeling the tightness wrapping around him for a split second before rubbing his length entirely over your core, poking your clit at the same time. “Heeseung, stop messing around”

The grits of your teeth he laughed and pulled away and you held back a protest and hit your lip to keep silent. “No need to be rude” He smacked the roof of his mouth with his tongue, “So impatient and desperate for me to fill up your lonely pussy huh?”

“What is the magic word?” He hovered over your back, his bare chest in close contact with your skin

You turned your head to side and looked at him through the corner of your eye, his bright side grin with a shadow casting over his eyes, “Fuck me please”

He didn’t respond to your plea and he pushed himself off your body, your bottom lip quivered as you tried to say something but a loud moan ripped out of you when his tip pushed past the rim of your pussy. The wood scratched under your nails as you planted yourself from the length pushed into you.

“Good girl… Taking it all for me. So fucking good to me” Heeseung groaned stabilizing himself with hands on your hips as he sinked you back onto his cock

Heeseung had to constantly remind himself to go easy, to go slow. But the way that you hugged him, sucked him in so perfectly, nearly made him lose his mind.

A stretch that you’ve never felt before, being split apart on a cock, let alone Heeseung’s.

“Damn I can stay inside of you forever” He loudly groaned as you fluttered around him but the loudest noise you’ve heard from yet filled the room when he bottomed out

Your body squished harder onto the table, comfortability being thrown out of the window as you were only able to focus on his weak twitches inside him. Your walls tried to get adjusted to the stretched and pull by him

“M-Move” You meekly nodded your head and that was the green light for Heeseung

Moving his hips slowly, not pulling away so much but enough to make you feel like you were almost empty before pushing back in. Each thrust made you shake and legs weak. “Doing so for good for me baby” He praised which made you clench around him

Immediately noticing the bodily reaction, he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, “Like when I praise you for taking my cock?” He darkly snickered when you responded in a mewl, “Or would you like when I say it was like you were made to take me?” A sudden harsh thrust filled you and jolt your body harder into the board you were bent over

A switch flipped off in your mind, a moan ripping out of you only let to blab incoherently which made Heeseung laugh at your state, “Think it’s the second one” He whispered loud enough for you to hear

Heeseung quickly found his rhythm. A slow but powerful one that poked your inside, molding and shaping them only for him, “Only I can make you feel like this- Only me”

The possieveness of his words flew over your head as you rapidly nod your head but as he pistons his cock past your gummy walls, he abruptly stops. “Say it”

“W-Wha-“ You breathlessly said but when he began to drag his cock out, everything in your mind snapped into place, “Only you can! Only you please”

Your pleading went straight to his head and his chest lightly pumped to only jerk his hips forward. His tip poked your g-spot in one that made you slightly scream. You bit down on your lip to keep yourself quiet but Heeseung wrapped his hand at the back of neck, his hot breath fanning your ear, “Don’t keep quiet. Make some fucking noise”

He dragged himself out to push himself back in without a proper pace. It was clear that you would take it—which you did and were not complaining. Each plunge into your soapy self, the wet and warm confinement something he knew he could no never part from.

You focused on how he slid in with ease, your arousal making it nearly perfect to accommodate him. Each drag making you dizzy with pleasure Your hands balled the table, not caring the scratches you might’ve been leaving behind.

And you didn’t hold back. Releasing every noise that vibrated through your chest and out made sure Heeseung could hear it perfectly. “That’s a good girl” He sprawled his hand into your lower back while tightening his grip at your neck, “My fucking good girl”

“Heeseung! Please” He laughed at the blabs that mixed with your noises, his pace irregular but just perfect to make sure you knew it was him, that he was left in your mind and body

“Please what?” He hummed and you weakly waved your hand behind

“More”

He looked at you with a glint flashing over his eyes. You weren’t able to see it but you could feel the way he was looking at you. He laughed, your wish was only for him to fulfill, “So desperate”

Heeseung held back strained grunts but some slipped through every now and then when you clenched around him just right, “Be a needy girl then”

“Going to let me ruin you for no one else. Breed your pussy that you’ll be leaked from hour- no days, maybe even weeks” Those words spewed made you whined and pitifully nod your head in need, you blabbed incoherent words and yet, he strung them along to perfect sentences

“So no matter how far you go, you’ll always think of me. I’ll be right inside of here” Heeseung moved his palm from your back to your stomach, pushing down making you feel his cock ramming into you

Your moans melted and muffled by the table as he pressed deeper, “Going to fill you up so much baby” He chuckled while letting out strained grunt, his pace erratic and messy, “Take it, take it for me”

Heeseung clawed your back while he slammed his hips harshly before releasing a guttural moan when you convulsed around him, coating his shaft in your release which promoted his own orgasm.

You dragged your fingers at your table in a loud moan when he spilt into your velvet wall, painting them white of him. You faintly gasp trying to regulate your breathing, to hands that hold both of you peeling off your body.

Giving a few last push, his tip pushing his own release into the inside crevices that he now resided in. Your mouth fell open, letting out quiet moans as a drowsiness took over you.

Your eyes felt heavy and were going to close but snapped open when Heeseung slid out completely without warning. The emptiness is not evident due to the accumulated release but when you weakly turned to your side to face him after everything. He gave you a warm smile and extended his hands out to you.

“What are you-“ You shut your mouth when you catch sight of the gold necklace he always wore everywhere, seeing it in every photograph of him now resting in your chest

The cold metal touched your skin and you looked down as best as you could to see the gold necklace dangling off your neck, “Heeseung…”

“You look so pretty like this… You are always so beautiful” He admired the afterglow you were left in, marked all over with his hickeys, sweat and spit lathered all over your body, “It looks better on you than me”

It was the difference in how he was a few moments ago, he planted a soft kiss on your bare shoulder, he traced up to your marked neck, “It’s yours now”

You admired the necklace through the haze of your mind, allowing your neck to be kissed up by him, the glimmer it had even through the pale lighting. “It’s real gold so take care of it for me” You heard Heeseung chuckle and your heart fluttered at the thought

His gold necklace is now yours.

$$$

Playing with the chain around your neck. Tracing over it made you smile. There was an unexplainable glow to you that others talked about but you couldn’t see it yourself but certainly could feel it.

A feeling lighter than what you are used to, the weight on your shoulders lifted with an unexplainable swirl washing over you.

However the moment didn’t last long when you were snapped out of the daze by a chilling voice. Dropping the necklace and adjusting your collar, you look up to see Sunghoon looming over the table.

“Mr. Park” You smiled but came out more strained than relaxed making him frown at the forceful gesture, it was like the first smile you gave him and it irked him

Your first meeting with him when you were assigned to meet him in a specific location away from peering eyes. It was obvious for high class people, an escape from the dazzling public light. And you knew this because one of your co-workers covered the infamous high end nightclub.

While you knew yourself to be a bit early than the mutual time set. It gave you some clarity of your mind and to settle yourself properly. The differences were subtle between the two athletes but they were there, there’s no denying it.

You looked down to the papers in your arms, the slow jazz music filled the venue. Your eyes reread the similar printed scripture with your boss’ name written in the corner for credit, a tugged of your lips pulled downwards when the memory of your interview with Heeseung filled your mind.

Shaking out of that thought, your freehand hovered the material before crumbling it into a wrinkled ball because if it was out of sight, it would be out of mind.

The soft call of your last name made you peer over your shoulder to see that no profile photo or any photo that had his face plastered on it did not amount to the sliver of justice needed of how he looked in real life.

Great beauty, sculptured face littered with moles, prominent eyebrows that popped, a jawline that could cut through anything that stood in his way and sharp eyes that had a sweetening feel under it.

Slightly disheveled hair pushed back by the squiggly headband as beads of sweat covered his forehead. He wore a thin long sleeve that rested perfectly on his broad shoulders which appeared wider in person than what you’ve seen on screen the few times you tuned in.

“Mr. Park” You spread a polite smile which wasn’t reciprocate by him as he only motioned you to follow the unexpected leading host

With every step you took following the host, you became aware of the watchful eyes and Heeseung’s words flashed through your mind ‘A pretty face for them to idolize’ and suddenly your own list of questions began to sparkle.

The fallen smile slowly rose back when the host bid goodbye, leaving Sunghoon to move the chair out for you to sit in, “Thank you” You muttered as he pushed it in for you but still no response from him

Your eyes followed as he walked over to the seat in front of you. As he sat down, you realized his mouth has not moved from the thin line nor has he even properly acknowledged you.

However, when you were going to go through with your regular routine, it was like a switch flipped and he extended a hand out for you with a fake smile, “Pleasure to meet you” You accepted it with a nod of your head

“Thank you for being willing to meet with me” Your notepad flipped over with his name plastered on the header with your pen at hand, “Let’s begin, shall we?”

Sunghoon nodded as he adjusted himself, hands raked over his hair to get rid of the headband, allowing his hair to fall down to its original flowy state, “If you’ll forgive my poor attire. I am just coming back from practice”

Your brows knitted as you looked up at him. It clicked in your mind when he spoke a semi-long sentence that his responses were rehearsed. Strategic. Unnatural and purely planned.

You expected this type of interaction considering how this would not be his first and most certainly won’t be his last interview of his life.

Waving your hand your smile never hesitates in hopes of being a reassurance, “I don’t mind. Does your practice usually run this long?” He nods pulling at the long sleeve in an attempt to make himself more presentable

You softly hummed before writing down ‘hard worker and ambitious but no clear goal’ in the empty column under his name. “Let’s start with your current succession of winning the championship alongside your team yet again this year” You decided to start off slow and easy instead of jumping right into it, while you may be working to get insider scoop, you weren’t a monster

“Tell me about the preparation that went into it”

He corrected his posture and tried to mimic your heartily smile with his own. “Well of course, I couldn’t have done it with my team. We were able to-”

You quickly stop him with a raise of your hand. While you were aware that there was work to be done to even get a dent in the barrier of his persona that masked the real him. These responses of teamwork will not ruin you from perfecting this story.

“I meant about you actually” You leaned back into the chair, your notepad landing on your lap, “I want to know the preparation you went through” You put emphasis in the you in your sentence

“The good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between” You lightly scoffed, his eyes flickering between you and the raising pen, “If I wanted the generic answer, I wouldn’t have asked to meet. I could’ve just looked up online of another interview you did and get the same response you were just going to give me”

Sunghoon stared at you wide eyed, he was stumped by your words. He tried to reel back in the unbalanced atmosphere, his mouth opening and closing for some proper deviation but nothing came to mind.

He took a deep breath and let out a loud chuckle only to find your hard gaze still on him. Even past the facade he’s always put up when he did interviews and was in the public’s eyes, he suddenly felt stripped bare by you and he only met you not even 10 minutes ago.

“I do suppose I give similar answers from time to time” The attempt to lift the heavy mood failed but he hastily looked when you sighed

“You do it all the time actually” You bit your tongue and mumbled a breathless curse when unable to catch yourself from saying your thought, “I’m sorry that was rather straight-forward of me to say”

“It’s your job to be” Sunghoon answered leaving you shocked but it faded away when another thought creeped into your mind

“Then can I divert from these questions for a moment?” Immediately picking up confusion written on his face, you nibble on your lip and look down at your lap, “Well you see, there’s always been talks about your career before hockey” You eased into the topic before looking up at him to instantly he visibly tensed when he heard your sentence

Bingo.

“You were a renowned figure skater- So close to joining the national team but suddenly declared your departure with the words ‘Of wanting to broaden your horizon’ and left without another word” Your elbows perked onto the table as you inched forward, “Just what prompted that decision?”

The straight shoulders and flickered eyes made an almost sinister smile ghost your face at the wonders, the perfect posture and jaw clenching deflated to nothing by your questioning.

His gaze hung low to look up through his eyelashes, hit teeth nibbling on his bottom lip as he wearily smiled, “That’ll be for a later time if it does come”

His response made your anticipation drop to the pit of your stomach seeing the avoidance of the question. “Alright” You sadly hummed, crossing over your legs to glance down at the listed question

You smiled once you circled back on the topped bolded question, “Let’s talk about rivalries then”

The knit of his thick shaped eyebrows in even more confusion made you grin before tapping at your notepad with your pen without a care, “Star basketball player Lee Heeseung”

Right when the name fell from your lips his once tensed shoulders slouched, eyes wavering around as he was diminished to nothing now because of the mentioned name.

“There were rumors that were later confirmed that the two of you used to practice in the same ice skating rink while you both were in your previous respective sports before ultimately switching careers”

“With this information there was always one big question floating around” You stopped for a second taking notice of his reaction of each words you said

The evident clenching of his jaw that caused his cheeks to slightly hallow in, his fist clenching on his lap under the table, looking anywhere else but at you, and you took in everything he did.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, anxiety on the rise as he felt you inching closer to him, your body nearly folding over the table, “Did the two star players ever cross paths?”

However, expecting a long awaited response to your question that no one else dared to ask, you were met with an abrupt snap, “Nope. We never did” You jerked back by the sharp sternness in his answer

Sunghoon looked up after he responded. His approach was aggressive and not at all what his managers remind him time and time again to act like during interviews. He silently cursed under his breath but when he caught sight of you expecting a scowl, he was met with your grin.

Your pen twirled between your fingers before the tip met with your picked up notepad, discreetly writing down a bullet point. The grin plastered on your face turned into a toothy one as you read over the new note under his name that you circled twice for emphasis, liar.

And that's how you remembered the hockey player. You left abruptly right after that and he tried to drag more questions out of you knowing that if he left it at that, his managing team would hate him.

But you didn’t spare him any mind, only saying how you’ll reach out to schedule the next meeting and left him alone in the nightclub where all eyes were watching him.

And now this time, he swore he would not make the same mistake twice. He couldn’t mess up, not when he already received an earful when he told what happened during the first time.

So when looking around the empty nightclub for sight of you, he notices in the deadzone it is in the afternoon until he spots you buried deeply in paperwork and an empty seat beside you.

His management told him to butter you up to make sure you don’t spill anything about the first meeting but the thought of having to do so wasn’t repulsing but rather nerve wracking.

While it felt wrong to do so, he didn’t want to jeopardize his career over it.

Gulping down the lump his hand hovered over the seat as he could feel your strong gaze on him which ultimately led to him switching to the seat in front of you.

Your eyebrows raised when he opted to choose to the different seat but you looked past it and dusted off your clothing like you were waiting decades for him to show, “I’m glad you managed to meet me again despite your busy schedule”

“I know your rigorous training must be tiring-” You were suddenly cut off but Sunghoon chimed in promptly cutting you off

“How come you were smiling so much?” The tone of falsed sternness but filled with hesitation, you looked up from your notepad in surprise

He never looked away from you and your insides twisted in themselves. “What?” You knitted your brows as you awkwardly laughed, closing and opening your mouth before straining out a fake smile that he managed to see right through, “Oh uh… It’s nothing”

You opened your mouth, “You should smile more often” He rushed out to awkwardly clear his throat, “I mean more genuine smiles, not the fake interview ones” You closed your mouth when he stopped talking

For the first time you’ve seen Sunghoon nervously shying away from your gaze. You blinked trying to regain your senses, your hand curled tighter around the pen, knuckles whitening in the process before loosening around it.

“Well I definitely will take that into consideration” Sunghoon smiled softly to himself when he caught that in the corner of his eye. Slowly adjusting himself to fully face you, “So as I was saying about training regime, how are you and your team-“

“I’m so sorry to interrupt once again- I know we just started but…” Your brows knitted in the middle to usher him to finish, “I was actually thinking about what you were saying last time and I think you should ask the non generic questions”

He paused for a moment before continuing, “I just think it will be able to prove a little more of a insight on who I am as a person”

Excitement isn’t a big enough word to describe the feeling. A miracle was laid upon you and handed to you on a silver platter, just like a dream.

“Well I’m glad you’re entrusting me to handle that“ Your smile that he talked about came plastering on your face making his smile grow, “I promise to capture the essence of you as much as I can!”

“I won’t let you down” Sunghoon softly chuckles at the light hearted demeanor you showcased

A switch flipping inside of your head to a new side that was held away from peering eyes and his heart thumped against his chest realizing that he was able to catch a glimpse of it.

You suddenly seemed far more interested, your undivided attention on him while you didn’t even need to look down at the paper of question, “Was there any significant moment that molded you into becoming what you are today? Such an admired athlete”

The question went straight into it and Sunghoon cleared his throat, his eyes jumping around as his focus shifted until landing onto you. He gulped and you watched his Adam’s apple bobbed. Your jaw clenches suppressing a smile as you look at him sighing softly.

“It might’ve been the first time I first stepped on the ice ever in my life. I think that is when I knew I was meant for life on the ice” A shiver ran up your spine as you listened to the rawness of his emotions

He never spoke of his experience like this. All the dedication you did, reading all the interviews he did, never once did he describe it as such.

“Do you miss figure skating?” Your voice was softer than before and Sunghoon couldn’t help an unexplainable feel in him

He hummed softly while nodding, “There’s times where I do miss. It was what I’ve known my entire life”

“Do you regret the transition?” The question made him ponder, you saw the conflict written on his face as he remained silent, his fiddles with his fingers but tried to stop himself

You noticed his movements and quickly wrote a note about it before dropping your pen and paper down to extend a hand towards him. He jumped when you softly pat his hands. He looks up to you smiling softly at him,“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to”

Sunghoon hiccups and quickly pulls back his hands and laces them together, coughing a soft apology to hold back the blush daring to paint his cheeks.

You lean back on the chair as you wait for him to give the green light to continue. And when he does by looking at you, his eyes spoke more words than anything said before.

“Is there anyone you want to thank for making you reach this point besides your own willpower?” Reading the next question with the small note of L.H right next to it, you were reaching into the abyss hoping for a catch

While Sunghoon was grateful you moved on from the topic of ice skating and didn’t push any further. Others journalists or interviewers would’ve pushed to get anything but not you and that warmed his heart.

“Of course it wasn’t only me but my family and everyone else who supported me when I didn’t believe in myself” It was easy to be thankful for that but he pauses, his eyes saddening at a thought.

“There was an old childhood friend of mine that I lost contact with who really helped me. He-” Sunghoon licks his lips and stares off into the distance

While you were only able to guess the possibility of it being Heeseung, deep down you were praying that it was him. Your leg bounced up and down as you waited for him to continue. “He really led me to the path that I am on now, if it weren’t for him, I would’ve been so lost”

“I am forever grateful for him”

“Do you want to dedicate something to him? In case he happens to read the article?” You cautiously ask to not scare him

Sunghoon stayed quiet for a moment before nodding his head, he leaned in forward and you did the same. When he was close enough to you, he caught a glimpse of the necklace you wore.

Noticing the shimmer of the gold chain peeking out from your shirt his eyebrows knitted at the familiarity but brushed it away..

“I just want to say I hope he’s doing well and that… He enjoying what he’s doing” He softly hummed and pleasantly smiled

Through the smile you see the pointed teeth like fangs sticking out and you look at them for a moment, “You know you should take your own advice and smile more often”

“You have a nice smile too Sunghoon” Quickly turning his gaze towards you, feeling the sweetness and sincerity in your words that his cheeks burned and his heart harshly thump against his chest

$$$

Another night passed, another morning spent with Heeseung.

You have started to grow far too accustomed to this cycle that it would be weird to not see him 4 nights out of the week till sunrise, especially in your bed.

Today is no different from any other day. The fluff of his hair tickled your neck and you giggled softly, trying to push him away. The sticky body feeling made you shiver but he only pressed himself closer to you.

“Heeseung” He only hummed when you whined his name

The calloused hands ran up and down your side, you could feel the smirk radiating off of him as he placed a soft kiss on your skin. You could feel his mouth trailing up your neck to your jaw. He traced over the bone before inching closer to the corner of your mouth.

“I like it when you say my name like that. Say it again for me baby” He slurred his words

But the loud ring of your phone distributed the moment instantly and you immediately peeled your body away from him making his body topple onto your bed at the lack of you supporting him.

He buried his head into your mattress in a frustrated sigh but sunk his head onto your pillow as his arms slipped underneath them to close his eyes from sleepiness.

You sat up to straighten your posture seeing the familiar number and answered it. “Hello?” You softly whisper wondering just why your job was calling you on your day off

Heeseung peeked one of his eyes open to watch your back facing him. He could see his mark littered all over your shoulder down your body and he proudly smiled but when your shoulders tensed, his smirk faltered.

It wasn’t until you let out a heavy sigh and the grip on your phone was painfully tight that your knuckles lost their color. The soft shuffling behind you and you let out a sharp exhale when you felt the warming presence behind you.

Heeseung laid his head onto your shoulder, you could feel him looking at you with curiosity but you ignored it to focus on the hung up call.

“Work is calling me in, something about an emergency meeting” You grumbled under your breath not liking the urgency that was used from your boss during the call

Heeseung noticed and ran a hand up and down your arm to help calm you, “Doesn’t sound so bad I mean do you have to go now?” He dragged the have in his sentence

The scowl on your face twitched upwards, feeling his roughed calloused hands roaming your bare skin to your stomach before swatting it away, “Yes I do, didn’t you hear it’s an emergency meeting”

“But I have an emergency myself” The slur pout of his voice made you finally peer to look at him

Big pleading eyes looking up at you, a light pout on his face as his hands run softly across your stomach as if it were to get you to stay. You watched how his head slowly rose to yours, you smiled and closed your eyes.

Heeseung stopped when he noticed and softly smiled as he dragged you closer to him, his breath fanning over yours but when his lips grazed your, you turned the other away making his mouth land on your cheek, “Have to go” You mumble before pushing yourself off your bed

“At least return my shirt if you’re going to leave me” Heeseung huffed and you turned when he called out to you, you fiddled with the hem of the shirt

“If you say so” Heeseung watched as you teasingly raise the shirt to expose your stomach and dampening panties, he smirked when he caught your hungry gaze

“You’re going to be the death of me” He threw his head back in a laugh but you remained looking at him, “Or maybe the downfall of me”

You chuckle at his choice of words as you quickly rip the shirt over your head before crumbling it at hand and launching it at his face, “Well at least you won’t be mine”

You didn’t worry about having to see Heeseung out knowing he would find himself out like how he always does when the moment was done and time called for either of you.

It was just more often than not, it was always him leaving first but now it was you and each step you took was sharp and purposeful when you entered the office.

Everyone turned their heads the moment you walked through the door. A stoic face but a thumping against your chest made you feel prideful. You smiled at coworkers but you saw their faltering gaze from you to the floors and hushed whispers filled the room and suddenly the excitement within you died out.

When you reach your boss’ office, you softly knock to hear ‘come in’ and when you do you weren’t sure what to expect but seeing your friend, the very co-worker whose job you were filling in for, sitting up straight with a bright smile.

She cheerily called your name and stood up to embrace you which you didn’t expect. You stood there with wide eyes and hovering arms before lightly patting her back with an awkward laugh, “What the- I thought you were going to be out for the rest of the year”

“Time was just in my favor” She gleamed happily but you wondered what this meeting with her and you meant now

Why did her return need your involvement? But your question wasn’t answered fast enough to your liking but you knew your boss hated to be rushed more than anything.

“Both of you sit, this isn’t a reunion, I called you both here because there’s more important things to be discussed before you two chit chat like old times” Your boss cleared her throat before rising from her chair

You both took the seat beside each other in front of her and looked at her as she walked in front of her desk with a loud sigh and finger pinched in between her nose bridge. “Now normally you know once it’s someone’s story it’s their stories, end of discussion”

Your heart began slowing down in beats to drop to the pit of your starch when stringing the words together. “But under the circumstances that this was originally her story and her department” Your boss looks over to your co-worker before over to you with a tight smile

“Your replacement is no longer needed so from here on out, you both will return to your original posts and work on your respective projects”

While your friend happily cheered to be officially back and take over her righteous project of the rising two athletes. You deflated, a ringing growing louder in your ear that wouldn’t leave you even longer after you stepped out of the room.

Your jaw clenched and your fingers dug into the flesh of your palm while your friend shook your shoulders in anticipation, “Well tell me all about them? What are they like? Is Sunghoon as handsome as they say?”

“What about Heeseung, is he standoffish? I heard his performance was top tier” You snapped your head at her as the last sentence was as clear as day when you heard it

“What?” Your face contorted and you saw how she hesitantly stepped back noticing the strong gaze

You sighed and dragged a hand down your face, “Sorry… I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay” She cuts you off with a rub of your shoulder, “I didn’t mean to steal back the story… I am super grateful you stepped up and took over for me when I couldn’t do it”

“But hey think about it now! It’s no longer your burden to carry” While the words meant to assure you only made the bubbling seething worse as you grit a smile

It should be your burden to carry but you don't want to think of the greatest loss of your career in the matter of a few hours.

$$$

‘Fertilizers are the new way of emotional expansion not only for your garden but oneself’

Simply seeing the poorly written title you snatch it from the copy machine and crumble it into a ball and throw it into the nearest trash in frustration. You tried to block out all the gossiping chatter that everyone suddenly seemed to have now that the star athletes story was no longer yours.

As you stare at the trash cash, you close your eyes to shakily inhale and exhale deeply with the repeating words of calm. calm. calm in your head. You walk back to the copy machine and press the button and antagonizaily wait for the entire catalogue to print out.

You aimlessly stared at the accumulated stack of papers before aligning it perfectly and slamming down to staple them together. Deeming it good enough for the lack of effort you put into it, you walked into your boss’ office not caring for her lack of absence and placed it on her desk.

But when you opened the door to leave, Heeseung’s face greeted you. You stumbled on your feet staring right at him while he loomed into the office without a word, his eyes set on you.

“Mr. Lee now hold on” You could hear your boss from behind but she stops when she see you in there

Your mouth moved but no sound came out as you didn’t dare focus on Heeseung. It had been a few weeks since you last contacted him of Sumghoon for that matter after purposefully ignoring his calls and messages ever since you lost the story.

There was no point of connection so why bother entertaining it anymore than what it was. You saw the warning gaze your boss gave to leave now and she’ll have a word with you later but a faint knock made everyone’s head turn to the door.

You stop your mouth from dropping seeing Sunghoon walking in with a bouquet of flowers and a soft smile but it falters at the sight of you and Heeseung.

“Mr. Park! Oh dear you both are early for your meetings… Please Please come in” Your boss welcomes the new addition and you tried to slip past but Sunghoon blocks your way in the name of an accident

“Sorry” He mutters and you don’t say anything and let him through first with hopes of being able to escape completely oblivious to lingering gaze Heeseung had on the two of you

His resting jaw tightened at the thought popping in his head making him burn a hole into the back of your head that made the hair at the back of your neck rise.

“Let me just handle with her for a second and I’ll be right with you both” You boss kindly smiles but you knew it was one of anger directed towards you

“This actually involves her so she needs to stay” Heeseung jumps in and you slowly turn around in shock

But the nonexistent back bone of your boss disappeared to nothing as she quickly closed the door behind her, enclosing you in the room with them and walking over to the blinds and shutting them close.

You looked through the large transparent windows just before she did and saw everyone’s eyes towards the room, especially your co-worker with horror all over her face until it was out of sight.

It didn’t take long for all of you to step out of your boss’ office. Her smiling widely after being able to deviate from a crisis that would’ve made her magazine a laughing stock. She shook the hand of the athletes while you slightly bowed which they reciprocated.

Sunghoon was the first to leave with the excuse of not wanting to be late for training but before he left he gave you a tight smile and snuck a glance towards Heeseung who barely looked at him the entire time.

During your time working with the two even if it may not have been that long, there was one thing you knew about Sunghoon: he's a liar.

You expected Heeseung to leave right after him but instead he stayed for a moment longer to batanly look at you without shame. “Check your phone for me okay” He mouthed before finally waving goodbye and leaving the office without another word

“What happened?” You weren’t even able to get a chance for yourself before your friend who was supposed working on the article asked

You took a step back when she roughly grabbed your shoulders, her distress and unease obvious. You opened your mouth to say anything but your boss’s shoes clacked on the tile floor gaining everyone’s attention. She pointed at your co-worker with not falter in her words, “You’re out”

“What?” Your friend awkwardly laughed looking over at you for some clarification, “What does she mean by that?” She whispered only for you to hear

“I’m sorry” Was all that you could say but even though you were apologizing from something she didn’t understand, she could feel no remorse anywhere in your words

“What happened?!” Her voice started to raise louder as she looked between you and your boss for some type of clarity before ultimately looking at you knowing your boss’ won’t explain

“They were saying how they wanted me to cover the story instead and I-I just couldn’t go against it because we would’ve lost the story” The justification on your part only angered her even more

“I swear I was going to say something but before I knew it, there was always an agreement that I would be the other to finish it since I started it” Your friend didn’t know what to do or even how to feel, she looked at you in disbelief that you didn’t break character once

“Get back to work everyone!” You hear your boss yell and the crowd disburse instantly leaving it to just be you and your freund

“That goes for you too- You’ll pick up the story she was working on…” Your boss squints at the recently printed catalogue title you put on her desk with a scowl, “Something about impact of fertilizer” You boss huffed and quickly handed the stapled pack of paper to your friend’s chest

She stared at you in disbelief only to be met with the back of your head as you faced your boss with now better posture than you’ve had ever since she came back and took the story that was rightfully hers.

“And you” Your boss faces you with a closed mouth sigh, “Get back to work on the articles for those two”

You don’t realize you were the only one left standing in the same position. You ran a hand over your face and covered your mouth with your hand to conceal your quivering mouth at the realization finally daunting you. You were back on the story.

$$$

The knock at your front door was familiar but not unexpected. You still haven't responded to his messages like he told you to do so, it was only a matter of time until he showed up and you let him in.

Stretching the collar of the shirt you wore in order to breathe better, you sucked in a breath before cracking open your front door to Heeseung looking through the crack.

When his eyes met yours and softened upon contact. “Let me in?”

Choosing to open the door for him as a response, he stepped in with ease and confidence after being here far too many times.

“What are you doing here?” You sigh but he brushes it off, admiring how nothing has changed from last time he was here

He inhales sharply quickly turning on his heel making you jump at the closeness and warmth of his skin near yours. You stumble but he quickly catches you with a hand on your mid back while you look at him with wide eyes.

Heeseung smirked, noticing your expression. Being able to see you so close and in person felt like a reward he always wanted, “Thought I told you to answer your phone” His lulled words made you weak and you looked at him and he brought his lips to hover yours. “What? Cats got your tongue now?”

You jerk your head to the side to deny the kiss which made him breathlessly laugh, “Just like the last time we saw each other” He whispered as a hand ran over your back before knocking his head into the crevice of your neck

Softly inhaling your scent he became lightheaded. He missed it—He missed you.

“Heeseung” You softly call his name and he hummed before attaching his mouth to the unblemished surface of your neck

He ran his hand over your waist to your stomach where it slowly drifted downwards to the pulsing calling his name, “Shhh let me take care of you baby”

Your eyes fluttered closed and you didn’t resist at all. Your legs pulled slightly apart and hummed in satisfaction. Whenever Heeseung said he would take care of you, he meant it.

After time of not being inside of you was a lustful torture in itself but not being able to see you was a pain he never wanted to experience again.

He wasn’t sure how much he’s released inside of you or how much he’s made you cream around his cock. All he knows is that he can never get tired of this—of you.

With a heavy breath, his body crashed on top of you. You weakly gasped but your body shivered as you weakly played with the stickiness of his hair. You push it back to showcase the mall on his forehead that is usually covered by his hair.

He smiled softly and melted into the touch. Rubbing his cheek into the crevice of your neck while he gave plush soft kisses making you giggle.

You attempt to jerk your head away but he grabs your waist and brings you close to him, his other hand grabbing your head to keep you in place. “Where do you think you’re doing?” Heeseung slurred against your skin

He nipped at the skin, running his tongue over the burning sensation making you squirm in his hold. “Heeseung” You weakly called his name and you could feel the smirk radiating off of him, “More” You slurred

Heeseung chuckled at your state, “You still want more?” His calloused hands rubbing up and down your side—sucking softly at your skin to mark it. “Must’ve been so needy without me, so lonely without me here”

“I’m sorry pretty girl”

Your body moved with his words, a fluttering within, your hips bucking forward to meet with any friction. Too lost in the moment, Heeseung yelped when you pushed him by his shoulder and climbed on his lap.

Dipping your head down to his neck, you harshly sucked on anything you could get your mouth on. Kissing his bobbing Adam’ apple and tugging at it to which he dug his fingers into your hips as a warning.

You smiled against his neck as soft held back hums were released by him. Holding onto his shoulders, switching to the other side you dragged your tongue all over the unblemished skin. “When were you damn it- going to tell me about Sunghoon”

Your mind is so hazy that you didn’t pick up on the question choosing to clamp down your teeth onto his collarbone making him wither under you, planning on doing it again.

When you moved to the opposite side by the drag of your tongue from shoulder to shoulder, Heeseung pushed you away and you blinked, staring at him in bewilderment.

Instead of the loopy smile, he was serious and you could see that. “When were you going to tell me that you were interviewing Sunghoon as well?”

Retracting your hands from his shoulder and straightened out your posture to shrug like it was nothing, “I didn’t think it mattered”

You could see he didn’t believe you in the slightest as he chose to let out a weak scoff, “C’mon baby don’t give me that”

“What are you talking about?” Instead of sitting on his lap, you crawl off it to sit on your legs facing him, “It really does not matter”

Heeseung adjusted himself against your headboard and your sheets falling off his chest down to his waist. “Uh yes it does” He told you like it were the most obvious thing ever

“Why does it?”

Your question makes him push back his hair in a groan, ruffling the fluff of it to an even more disheveled state. “I’m just saying it just does, I don’t have to explain myself to you”

You scoff loudly in disbelief, “And I have to explain myself to you?”

“That’s not the point-“

You cut him off with a sharp remark, “Then what is the point? Am I missing something here?”

“All I’m saying a simple heads-up that you’re not only interviewing me but him as well would’ve been nice” The way Heeseung referred to Sunghoon was not of one of a warm greeting but you pushed that bubbling feeling down as you narrowed your eyes with a scowl

“Ever thought that I cannot talk about confidential stuff? That this is my job Heeseung”

“You know the job that you fought for, telling my boss you’d drop out if it wasn’t me covering it” He didn’t believe the snap of your words, there was something more you weren’t telling him and yet you played innocent

He released his hair with a huff, “So what? This is my fault now?” He shook his head to deny and waved his head like it was lunacy

You smacked his waving hand away to land at his side, “No I’m telling you I’m not obligated to tell you anything”

“I’m not the one who needs the other- I don’t need you” Heeseung laughed at your stifling remark, he stared at you in amusement like he couldn’t believe his ear

“Don’t get it twisted Heeseung. This-” You motioned at the distance between the two of you, “Isn’t what you think it is”

“And yet you want me” The slur of his tone made you soften your eyes just a bit, your shoulders slightly dropping because you couldn’t deny how it is, “Plus what is this between us then mhm?”

The question posed revelation because you weren’t sure what it was between you and Heeseung. One moment you’re interviewing him and then the next he’s in your bed taking care of you like no one else has.

Your silence spoke louder and he understood that completely. He shook his head and bundled your sheets at his waist before sighing softly and rubbing a hand over your arm, “Look I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snap at you mhm?”

He sighed when you were looking off into the distance,“Babe look at me” He softly called but you pushed him away when he inched closer

“Don’t call me babe… I actually think it’s best you leave for now” Heeseung stared at his air hung hand as you shuffled away from him in your bed

“What?” Heeseung stared at you in bewilderment, he couldn’t believe what he just heard, you didn’t mean it—you couldn’t have. not when he was finally back at your side, “Don’t tell me you’re mad”

“I’m not mad, I just have to work soon” You pulled your sheets to your body but he hastily grabbed your wrist to stop you

“Now hold on, this isn’t happening- No fucking way”

Attempting to pull your wrist back as you stare at him shocked, “What exactly is happening?” You raised an eyebrow while a loud scoff bounced off the walls

“I just-” His mind was running laps, bubbling emotions erupting something nasty within, his fingers digging harshly into his palms, “I don’t get it. You already have me, why do you need to interview him?”

“Because this story covers two star athletes. Not just one” You put your finger at his bare chest to push him, “Plus last time I checked only one of you is doing better than the other and it definitely isn’t you”

“That’s only because he allows himself to be idolized and manipulated by the public’s eye to be some fucking perfect ice prince” He grabbed your pointing finger and held it tightly when you tried to pull back

“You know I’m not like that, that’s why you stayed.” He lowly said which ultimately led you to push him back to let you go, “You’re just mad that I’m not tripping over myself to make you feel bad about me”

You jerk your head back in shock, “You’re joking right?”

“I’m sorry I’m not going to allow you to paint me in whatever way you want to sell better”

“I’m not someone you can control and mold for your own pleasure especially for the public’s eye” Heeseung’s voice cracks into laughter after each word, “Hate to break it to you but I’m not Sunghoon”

This was the first time you heard the name be dropped from his mouth. Your mouth twitched but you could only laugh—not in happiness but in annoyance. “Trust me I know you aren’t”

“And oh is that so? Well I’m not going to be made less of what I am so that you can feel better about yourself who can’t seem to chart anywhere else but on the court”

“Isn’t that what only matters? Oh wait! Not for you cause you love leeching off things that aren’t meant to be known” Heeseung’s words became like venom that you could taste in the back of your throat

“And yet, you were still giving me a story just so that I can stay by your side” That was the last straw because he was quick to get up from your bed, grabbing everything of his discarded items and putting them in a haste

When he was slipping on his pants, he faced you with a mocking laugh that crinkled his nose, “And still somehow you ended up fucking me”

Your jaw clenched tightly as you stared at him, having one foot out of your room. He stayed for a second just staring at you and his eyes were starting to irritate you. The rational part of your mind screamed to do something but your emotions got the better of you.

“Don't sweat it too much, I regret it” You snapped and that was sign that made Heeseung slam the door shut leaving you alone with your heavy words lingering in the air

$$$

“What are we supposed to do now that we lost Heeseung?” Your boss frantically laughed as she paced around her office, “What exactly happened?!”

“He hasn’t been returning my calls, messages or emails and his management called me that he would be on hiatus until further notice”

“There wasn’t much else I can do” You tried to explain but your boss snapped her head towards you

“There’s not much else you can do” She repeated your words, “Well you can start off by bringing Heeseung back!” She yelled slamming her hand onto the table when she rounded the corner

You jerked at her shout and clenched your jaw tightly, your tongue running the insides of your mouth that you could taste the metallic on your tastebuds.

After constantly trying to get into contact with Heeseung after the fight, he ended up blocking your number when you received word he was on an indefinite hiatus.

You couldn’t bring him back once he became a ghost. That would be doing the impossible and you don’t work miracles.

“I have to go. I have a meeting with Sunghoon” Announcing it, you hoped to be spared from anymore of the lecture and to your luck, your boss didn’t respond and just sat at her desk to stare off in the distance

Stepping out of her office, you huffed, sighed loudly and closed your eyes while your hands shook at your side but the voice of your friend, the one who should be covering the story, smiled softly and rubbed your shoulder.

“I’m sorry to hear what happened with Heeseung” You furrowed your brows wondering how anyone knew of the news, she noticed your confusion and became lost herself, “Uh yeah… Didn’t you see the official statement posted? He’s off the lineup and won’t participate in the championship this season”

You stared at her with wide eyes but she didn’t answer your silent question.

“Just what happened? I thought everything was going well, especially after the scene they caused” She and everyone else has question they ask knowing you might have insider information that can satiates their curiosity

“I don’t know. Last session, he seemed fine. Maybe fame just got too much for him how the hell would I know what goes on in his head” You grit through your teeth, you knew it was a lie, there was no fame attached to his name besides the one the team gave him

But you truly don’t know what he was thinking and quite frankly, you didn’t want to dwell on something that isn’t in your control anymore. You didn’t say for long to continue the conversation giving an excuse that while you may be down one athlete, you still have another.

$$$

Sunghoon read the news, he saw the article, and with the new information obtained not long ago about the former basketball player also being interviewed by you. It was no shock that the disappearance of Heeseung must’ve taken a toll on you.

While he didn’t want to point out the obvious, it was really hard when you kept a stoic face, not a single smile that he adored in sight. On one hand, he tried everything possible that could spark some reaction, answering all questions with honesty but nothing brought back the same bright smile.

“Alright that’s it for this. Thank you for meeting me Mr. Park-“

“I heard what happened with Heeseung” You stopped mid way and looked away before turning to his nervous expression, he laughed to fill the awkward silence as he rubbed his nape, “I’m sorry that he suddenly back out like that”

“He tends to do that when something becomes too overwhelming with him” Sunghoon sighs and you immediately drop your hands and gave your full attention to him, “He isn’t the best when it comes to dealing with emotions so whatever it may have been, don’t blame yourself”

“It’s something I’ve told him countless times to fix because it could bite him in the ass and now look at this. His career on the line for whatever the case may be”

“But what if… Do you think this will cost him everything?” You asked when a void filled your stomach like a bottomless pit

“If he’s smart about it then no but if he isn’t who knows” Sunghoon shrugged when he knew that he would be the only to actually know

You rubbed your creased forehead and he jumped when you dropped your hand to the table in a thud, “But I mean unless it’s worth it then I can understand”

“What do you mean?” You asked and Sunghoon softly smiled making you frown lightly at the happiness in it

“That everything he’s doing is worth it. He loves what he does, I know that. So maybe he knows what he’s doing and the consequences will be worth it” The explanation did nothing as a clarity and it must’ve shown on your face when he chuckled softly

“He’s impulsive and irrational. He always has been no matter the case may be, so please don’t beat yourself for losing him because in the end it was his lost, not yours”

A kick in your stomach as you listened to him made it feel like a bucket of cold water was lathered over you and rudely waking you up to reality. You scoff at yourself, silently cursing under your breath as you look up at him with a more relaxed smile.

“There’s the smile” Sunghoon pointed when he saw it and you shied away and turned your head to hide it

You heard him laugh but you looked back at him when you heard him speaking again, “Let’s go shopping” The abrupt change of topic made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion

You open your mouth to respond until he beat you to it, “Please” You closed your mouth at his soft plea

Somehow managing to pack your belongings and being brought to the mall that you wouldn’t dare to step in for the sake of your bank account. However, he walked in there like it was just another day for him–which it was.

As the two of you aimlessly walked the mall, you see the high end brands one after another and you could never imagine the sheer luxury it must be to buy anything without looking at the tag.

“Can I ask why shopping all of a sudden?”

Sunghoon’s gaze remained forward as he took a nervous gulp and rubbed his forearm while he continued to walk beside you, “I uh…just need to buy something. Plus I thought it would be nice to have a change of scenery”

Keeping your sight on him, you see the awkward side glance he gave you before looking back ahead. Yet, he came to a stop in front of a store you never thought you would step foot into. The door opened wide for you and Sunghoon, the name ‘Tiffany and Co.’ embroidered into the glass.

Looking into the store before turning around to look at the encouraging smile he gave as he motioned you in. You nibbled softly on your lip peering over your shoulder as if to make sure it was okay. “Go on” His encouraging words bloomed in your chest

You inaudibly gasped at the lines of jewelry on display, the gleaming of the rocks nearly blinding by the mere sight. Looking up from the racks on racks of necklaces, bracelets and earrings, you see the employees bowing their heads to Sunghoon.

He kindly bowed back and with every step he took, everyone followed him. “Perks of being an ambassador” He rubbed his nape when noticing the unreadable expression on your face

Unable to rip your eyes from the employees that patiently waited for his word that you were snapped out of thought at the soft call of your name.

Your eyes blinked back to reality and turned to where your name was called and your jaw dropped seeing the diamond necklace blinging in the fluorescent light before it was extending out to you. “I think this will look lovely on you” His gaze shifted onto your neck before back up to your eyes with a tight lip smile

Unconsciously reaching up to the chain around your neck, you balled it in your palm before attempting with the lock you try to rid yourself of it however, it kept slipping through your fingers.

Grumbling under your breath when it wouldn’t come off but you stopped when you felt another pair of hands pulled yours away, “Let me do it for you” Sunghoon softly said as the clasp unclipped and the necklace slipped off your neck to be scooped in his hand

Your mouth slightly parted when he smiled warmly as he pried open your fist with his fingers as he dropped the necklace onto your palm, “Let’s try this one on now mhm?”

The cold from the necklace Heeseung gave you disappeared into your pocket as you turned your back and made it easier for Sunghoon to wrap the diamond necklace around your neck. It didn’t dangle like how Heeseung’s did. It was far too heavy in the middle by the crystal to do so, instead it clung to your skin.

You were hesitant to turn around and look at Sunghoon but he grasped your shoulders and turned you around, “What do you think?” Your question was innocent and pure in his eyes and it made his heart flutter

“I think we’re going to have to box it up” He smiled peeling his gaze away from the jewelry to look at you face that stretched in the smile he adored

“So? You get whatever you want at a discounted price?” You coughed when you caught a glimpse of the price tag which he laughed and shook shook his head like it was pure lunacy

“I get it for free” Your shocked must’ve been seen because he only shrugs his shoulders like nothing, “Perks of being a renowned athlete and ambassador I suppose”

“No this is the outcome of being loved by the nation” You muttered under your breath but quickly shut up when an employee extended a bright teal blue bag in your direction

You picked up the bag and looked inside of the box in which the necklace you’re wearing is supposed to go and a gratitude card for your purchase.

“Now it’s yours” Sunghoon had a look that sparkled and you couldn’t describe it

He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands into his pockets and smiled, “If you want to look more around the store you can. Choose whatever you like, it’s all on me”

An excitement raced through you hearing his words. Something that you hadn’t felt ever before unless during late night thoughts of what ifs or in your wildest dreams and fantasy.

The grip on the teal bag tightened as you glanced around the store to see all the employees waiting for Sunghoon and now your cue for whatever you may need.

You looked to the side to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your ‘Tiffany and Co.’ bag in clutch and your necklace that dangled a shining diamond right in the middle.

$$$

“Sunghoon is wonderful isn’t he?” The question snapped your attention from the rather large portrait of the said male to the whom spoke

You see a striking resemblance to the woman who you knew to be his mother, seeing her in countless videos and photos along with Sunghoon. She always had the same proud smile when the cameras were on her and the smile she gave you was no different.

Her heels clack against the sleek tile floors where there was not a speck of dust. She looked up to the picture in pride and folded her arms. “This was during one of his last final matches. I didn’t know at the time since he made the decision by himself but it was a moment too beautiful not to capture.

The said picture was of Sunghoon and a gold medal hanging around his neck, the bouquet of flowers laying in his arm, the dust particles behind him and the light outlining him perfectly. And yet, his eyes were hollow, not a single smile in sight.

“Such a remarkable athlete. Always loved and remembered by the public even when switching careers” She hums softly, “He’s made it far even after everything” The mention of the switch of sports perks your interest, however it wasn’t what you were here for

You were here upon invitation his mother reaching out and setting this meeting without his knowledge—deeming it something between you and her.

“I’ve read all about it, it’s like he was meant to be on the ice” Your response seemed to have pleased his mother as she lightly patted your shoulder like it was the right answer to say

“Every since we took him ice skating on a long cold night during the winter at a lake we used to go to often, we knew then and even now he’s meant for the ice” She told and you mentally took note of how she talked of him and the experience, even only meeting her not even an hour ago, you’re already learning more information that no one else knows

When she pats your shoulder again, you look to see her motioning to follow and hastily doing so, you look around at the house as you walk through it. Saying that it was beautiful would be such an understatement. It screamed of pure wealth and of Sunghoon that by eyes alone, you could tell this was his foundation.

You could feel the hint of him within the walls besides all his pictures and medals plastered everywhere. You tried to look at everything that you could of him. There were countless joyous, shy smiles of his everywhere you looked.

It didn’t matter if he was alone, with people, on the ice, in the grass, in the sun, and in the snow. Sunghoon was always shyly smiling—a smile that never changed until it stopped when he grew up.

“Did he enjoy figure skating?” You voiced out your thought only to suck in a breath and cursed under it for not catching yourself sooner

She laughed and you slowed down your steps as she did as she turned around to look at you, “That’s the thing about you journalist”

“You’re always looking for something to sink your teeth into”

“I-I” You were lost for words, there was nothing that came to mind that could save you from this but you took a step back when she turned her whole body to face you

“You know I thought you would be more careful when it came to your tracks considering you’re the very person you have to be careful of” She said while handing you a photograph

You were scared to look down at it but when she puckered her lips to it, you shakily picked up the photo and saw you and Sunghoon walking into Tiffany and co. with soft smiles exchanged.

There were many times you’ve experienced fear but this was the first time you’ve felt it because of someone else you just met. You looked up at her in horror but she smiled at you.

But even when being cornered, you couldn’t take out the muscle memory when you spot a picture in the corner of your eye behind her. Pushed all the way back and dust accumulated on it, there were two young boys, arms wrapped over their shoulders with bright smiles while they stood on the ice.

One with their hair pushed back with a squiggly headband showing the mole dead center on his forehead wearing hockey gear and the other wearing a decorative bodysuit, the prominent eyebrows and scattered moles on his face to be signed below. Heeseungie and Hoonie.

“Now I hate getting my hands dirty” Sunghoon’s mother said, making you remember what was happening. You snap your attention back to her as she picked the photo from you, “However, I’m seeing something that needs to be taken care of”

You stared where the picture once was until you carefully looked around the empty dimmed room before looking back to her wicked grin.

Her eased demeanor contrasted your stressed one making you swallow down a lump in your throat. There was no one else in the room besides the two of you. “Now why don’t we step into my office? I like talking more in private”

“I think you just might want to hear my proposal, journalist”

$$$

All that training he’s done couldn’t have possibly prepared him for the struggle that he was about to endure in running over to your place in the rain.

He wiped the sweat that blurred his eyesight and pushed himself, he couldn’t stop. The balls of his feet killed him but it faded away when he stood in front of your door. The light hanging from above illuminates just enough to cast the shadow of his hand hovering your door.

He flexed his hand at his side, nervously gulping before straightening out his clothing and adjusted his hair to what he hopes is a tame state.

The knock at your door made you jump and look up from your laptop before slamming it shut and roughly shaking your head from the clouding thoughts.

You grabbed your phone and rushed towards the door trying to ignore the giddy feeling blooming into your chest but it died when you opened your door and your phone nearly slipped through your hand at the sight in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice laced in surprise and tension as Sunghoon tries to regulate his breaths with heavy pants

He opened and closed his mouth, no thought running through his mind that could make him utter a coherent sentence but when his gaze shifted to your opened phone he read the bolded slanted title.

‘Park Sunghoon, Nation’s love, caught on a shopping date sparks mixed emotions of fans. All wishing for the protection of the athlete’ and attached below to the title were the very photos from the mall that day.

Sunghoon let out a shaky breath as he slowly raised his eyes to you. You stood frozen, your eyes widened and mouth slacked open. He quickly engulfs you in a tight hug, “I don’t know how anyone knew we were there and managed to get that picture of us but I will deal with it”

“I’ll call everyone I know to get that article taken down” The grip over your body tightened as he rested himself on your shoulder before burying himself into the depths of your neck, “I am so sorry”

Your free hand twitches and your face scrunched when letting out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding before a ripping sob came from you and your bottom lip quivered.

“Shhh it’s okay, let it out. I’m right here” He whispered softly into your ear, his hand running up and down your back to console you

You didn’t say anything, merely sticking your head deeper to cover your face as you held tightly around his waist. Sunghoon pulled his head from your neck to hover his mouth over your ear, “I got you. I got us don’t worry”

He pulled away, his hands on your shoulder to see your teary eyes, a clench in his heart at the sight, “No one is going to hurt you as long as I am here”

You opened your mouth to say something but he quickly hushed you, he raised his hand and his thumb wiped away the tears at the corner of your eye. A reassuring smile stretched over his face as his eyes never left yours even when you were looking away.

Able to feel his gaze on you, you screwed your eyes shut. The built up waterworks striking down your face which Sunghoon easily caught. The pad of his thumb creased your cheek in a gentle manner, you slowly opened your eyes and turned your gaze to him.

When you caught his eyes, his smile grew more and he looked at you with a shimmer in his eyes—making it look like he held the universe in them.

You gulped the nerves down but he grew closer into you, your eyes searched his face to see if he could hear your heartbeat with how close he was. “Mr. Park-“ You started when he hovered your lips

He sucked in a breath, the eye contact never let up from the moment it started, “Please call me Sungho- Actually call me whatever you want. As long as I am the one you’re calling out to”

You were going to speak when his hovering mouth planted softly onto yours. You gripped his forearm to stop his shaking as he held your face.

Instead of ripping yourself away like he expected, your eyes slowly flutter close, getting lost in the plush feel.

“You shouldn’t be here- What if someone sees you?” You softly whisper when he pulls away and stares into your eyes, “Guess you have to let me in then”

He had a flush across his cheek when he harshly gulped in anticipation of your response. He doesn’t know what took over him but you grasped his arm and pulled him into your place without a word and your eyes never left his.

When the door closed behind him, it didn’t take a moment longer before Sunghoon slammed his mouth against yours. His face scrunched when your nails dug into the muscle of his forearm but he looked past it when he pressed his lips deeper onto yours.

He felt even happier when your hand loosened and pulled his hands away to your sides. Instantly his hand cupped you there and carefully flushed your body with his.

Your arms wrapped around his neck when the empty spaces soon became filled by him. Your heart was pounding and your mind was spiraling with nothing in it besides Sunghoon.

He repeated soft pecks on your lips ever so softly while you raked your hands up the back of his neck into his hair. Messily tussling it from the usual neat look. You grinned softly against him but when you gasped just enough when he nibbled on your bottom lip to slip his tongue in.

Grasping a fistful of hair when he devoured the entrance you gave him. Sunghoon was getting too far into the clouds to focus on anything else besides you. You were feeling light headed from how much he was kissing you, he wasn’t letting you have a chance to breathe.

There was always a gnawing in his mind and chest whenever you were around. Now, it was dull and numb, too overcomed with a greater need now that he’s tasted you.

“Please” Sunghoon wasn’t sure what he was pleading for, what he did know was that he would rather give up everything than lose you

You began walking backwards, guiding him further into your home. With each step you both took, pieces of article began slipping away and trailing where you once were. Until you stripped into nothing but your undergarments.

When you reached your bedroom, the door was pushed open and slammed closed by his foot as you gracefully placed on your bed.

The kiss never broke for a minute after that, his body slotting between your legs, his arm resting at the side of your head while the other wrapped your leg around him. His fingers traced designs and patterns on your skin as he kissed you silly.

The light-headed feeling was getting worse but you only pressed harder against his mouth. Sunghoon mimicked the same desperation, constantly repeating the motion.

You continued to play with the back of his hairs, tugging at them every now and then until you tried to pry him off your lips for a second. Managing to peel him away for the millisecond of air before he broke free and crashed himself back onto you. Sunghoon kissed you like a starved man like he’s been deprived of a necessity in life.

He tightly gripped your waist to keep you rooted flat on your back when you whipped your head away. He needed to be touching, to feel you, to be so close to you that no one was sure where either of you began and ended.

“Sung…Hoon” You broke his name and he had never been called out so prettily, it was like a siren that dragged him into you

His fingers hooked under your chin and turned your head to face him again. When you looked at each other, the vision that clouded your minds faded away. Sunghoon stroked the pad of his thumb on your cheek, his eyes never moving from your face.

While you looked at him for a moment before trailing down to his sculpted chest, the toned bulging muscles made him see nearly ethereal. Your hand reached out to graze the muscles and Sunghoon didn’t say anything, merely allowing you to do what you pleased.

You admired him. It was like he was taken extra care of, given more attention to details to ensure perfection. Your fingers traced around his joints, feeling how his gaze never let up from you.

When he pushed your head back to him, he leaned and met you halfway. The plush of his lips caught you off guard but you easily melted into it. He cupped your jaw before snacking an arm over your back and carefully guiding you back on the bed.

The cold feel of fingertips grazing your bare back made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You gripped his shoulder tightly when he began slipping off your bra, you didn’t know when he managed to unclasp it but you helped him.

The garment slipping off made you break away from the kiss but Sunghoon chased after you, he placed soft pecks against any patch of skin he was near. After each peck, you whispered sweet nothing loud enough for you to hear, “You’re beautiful, so unbelievably stunning”

“You’re perfect” You screwed your eyes shut when you heard them, your hand impossibly gripped tighter unwilling to let him go

Sunghoon’s hand roamed over your back to your side before sliding down to your hips where he played with the fabric of your underwear.He rested his forehead on yours, both of your eyes closed shut as his breath fanned over your face. “May I?” He whispers making your heart shake

You carefully open your eyes to catch him already looking at you. You gulped down harshly, only able to nod your head in response. He smiled softly but shook his already sweaty forehead on yours, “I need words princess”

“Yes you can Sunghoon” You rushed the words in one breath, his smile grew in size and showcased his row of teeth and sharp teeth to looked like a vampire ready to sink his teeth

“Thank you” He hooked his fingers over the fabric and carefully peeled it off you while you wrapped your arms around his neck and kept yourself buried in his neck

Wet kisses rested on the side of your face and jaw to deviate the attention from what was happening. But Sunghoon pulled your arms away from him as he pulled himself back. You stared at him with confusion when he focused on properly taking your undergarment off.

Passing down to your ankle to dangle off before he slid it off completely, Your cheeks burned in embarrassment when you felt a cold breeze hit your glistening self. Sunghoon sucked in a breath watching the pure arousal.

“Is this for me? Leaking all this for me?” He asked but when he focused back on you he saw how you had your head buried in the pillows, “Hey it’s okay… Look at me”

You couldn’t face him but when a finger sleekly slid in between your folds, a moan ripped out of you while you buried your head dropper into the sheets. “Look at me” Sunghoon repeated his words, “Please”

You shivered at the thought of seeing Sunghoon, especially at this moment but you turned over to him to see the wet eyes he had while looking at you. Nearly hanging off the bed and the sight of his head in between your legs.

“There you go” He huffed out a smile before dragging his finger up to softly rub over your clit, you threw your head back when your body jerked at the touch, “No no be a good girl and look at me princess”

But when you didn’t listen he ripped his hand away and you whined in protest before blinking rapidly to look at him, “Look! Look! I’m looking please Hoon” you wailed which erupted an explosion in his chest

“Hoon? I think I can get used to that” He laughed before running a hand up and down the outside of your thigh, “Glad you listened” He hummed before returning to his original spot

He was agonizingly slow when running a single finger over your folds, spreading the wetness all around. “Sungh-“ You started but quickly gasped when he slipped in a finger

He hissed at the clench but slipped in another making you fist your sheet, crumbling underneath your body. His hot breath fanned over your cunt making your slightly jolt but strained a moan when his curled up his fingers and laid his tongue out and up your juices.

Attaching himself to your pussy was like a dream. Something he never wanted to part from and it drove him mad. His head felt lightheaded when all thoughts rationally fled from it to be filled by you. He turned his fingers around, slightly parting them to scissor you open.

His tongue gilded all over, burying his head deeper into you. He hummed loudly as he drank everything. that split out of you. “So sweet, the sweetest thing I have ever tasted. Probably the sweetest in the entire world” His praised went straight into your head as you carefully rut your hips against his face

“Hoon- Hoonie” You mewled when he plunged his fingers faster in and out of you

“Say my name princess” He grunted when he sucked on the bundle of nerves that made your body thrust

Sunghoon held your lower body with his upper one to keep you in place, sleek slender fingers adding a more desperation into you that needed to be quenched. He adjusted his add into a more comfortable position that made his fingers go impossibly deeper.

The lewd sound of your arousal spilling out and him drinking everything that he possibly could since he couldn’t have anything go to waste. Your body arched off your bed when Sunghoon managed to hit a spot in your gummy walls.

You could feel the smirk radiating off of him and against your cunt as he chuckled, “That’s the spot? Right there?” He asked while repeatedly hitting it

When you couldn’t respond with words and only moaned, a pride bloomed over his chest. “Talk to me” He stopped his movements making you wail

Your mind is too far gone to comprehend wording, your focus on rutting yourself with his fingers. Riding for any type of friction while you spewed nothing incoherent, “Yes right there- need you Hoonie. Please”

“I need to stretch you out. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re far too precious to be broken” He softly spoke while he dragged his fingers out only to plunge them back without a warning, “Let me take care of you”

You rapidly nod in response which made him gleam. Attaching his lips back to your folds, he nastily slurped the arousal that accumulated in the few seconds he pulled away. Embarrassed but too overtaken with a fog you rut your hips harder.

Sunghoon curled the two digit up feeling the gummy wall contracting around him. He smiled as he looked up through his eyelashes to watch the pleasure written over your face. It was a sight that burned in his mind, how your mouth fell slack as noises spilled from it because of him.

He rubbed his face deeper into your core, his nose hitting your clit while his fingers never let up and his tongue attempted to push into your hole. You squealed and pulled on his hair, “Hoon-Hoonie!” Your voice raised higher which each pulled and push into your body

“Let go” He murmured muffled by your pussy until your back arched off the bed, the loudest moan of the night ripping from your throat as you tug of the locks tangled in your fingers, “Such a good girl for me”

You loudly gasp when he continues his thrust of fingers but at a much slower pace. He drank as much as he possibly could, the lack of oxygen the least of his concern.

You tapped on his disheveled hair but he didn’t part from you. Sunghoon carefully rubbed the tingling nerves when he placed kisses all over your cunt. “Helping you out” He blabbed against the soaked walls but you could tell he lied through his teeth

He doesn’t know what took over him. His mind was too far gone to realize it comprehend his body begging for a proper respiration but he needed to continue.

It wasn’t until you physically ripped yourself away from him when he took a deep breath and dazed as he looked at you. His eyes were wet, ringing with tears and the lower half of his face covered in your release.

His sculpted chest rose and dropped with each huff, your body was lightly shaking but before either words could be uttered, Sunghoon crashed his mouth to yours. You yelped in the kiss but screwed your eyes shut and cupped his jaw while his hands roamed over your body.

Sunghoon grasped any piece of skin he could get his hands on and flushed his body back on top of yours. You cringed at the taste of you on his lips but he chuckled deeply, “Don’t you taste so good? I love it” He slurred between pecks

Your hands ran up to the back of his head and kept him in place. Your parted legs welcomed him in between with his hand running up and down your sides. The inner of his palms scratched due to the calluses but they were much softer than how you remember them to be.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, too far uncoordinated but too precious that made every action feel filled with a purpose. “I need you” You gasped and Sunghoon pulled away to stare in your eyes

You looked up to him to see the pleading pooling in his eyes, his bottom lip quivering as his breath shook. “Are you sure?” He carefully asked and you nodded your head, “But I need you to say it“

“I. Need. You. Sunghoon” You cut yourself after every word to emphasis the broken sentence

“You’ve always had me” He responded placing a kiss on your lips which contrasted any other one, much softer and gentle approach

The tangle of his hair loosened in your hold before slipping off to rub his neck. The tips of your fingers tingling when feeling the burning of his body, “You’re burning up” You pointed out as much as you could but he roughly shook his head as he moved down from side of your mouth to your cheek then jaw to finally your neck

“You give me fever” An exhilarating shock filled your body with his words, so truthful, so raw, “You drive me crazy”

You brush the fallen hair and tucked it away as much as you could to bring focus to his face, moles that you weren’t aware existed unless you were so close to see it showcased themselves to you.

Focusing on the weak points, you flipped over to have Sunghoon sprawled on your bed. He looked up at you in shock when you straddled his lap, smothering your arousal over his boxers covering his clear hard on, he moaned loudly.

“Don’t be a tease” He sucked his teeth but you smirked and pressed down harder while tangling your hand behind his head

“I won’t- I don’t have time for that” Sunghoon looked at you through squinted eyes when your fingertips traced the outline of his boxers, “Plus why would I even think about pulling nonsense with you”

“Because you’re a journalist- You live off of story” You laughed at the reprimanded comment, you bring his head leveled with yours with a raise of an eyebrow

“You sure have a snappy attitude under the tidy hockey player” This time he was the one to laugh out loud, you tilted your head in confusion but you yelped when you were flipped to your back again

Sunghoon hovering over you, his arms on each side of your head and his muscles stretching out the line of the clear dedication he put into his body.

“No. Welcome to actual me” Before you could even retaliate his words or even question them, he fiddles with his boxers and rips them off his body

You gulped harshly when you caught a glimpse of his length, clearly underestimating his size and he laughed, “You thought I was small. You’re breaking my heart”

When you looked up to him you were met with a crazed look in his eyes, a dark cloud forming in his mind that had one thought in mind. To ravish you.

“Sunghoon-“

“That’s not my name” He sternly told, gripping your chin to keep your eyes on him

You gulped down the lump forming in your throat, your voice shaky but it put a smile on his face, “Hoon?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He chuckled before sucking his teeth and shaking his head, “Not that one though”

“Hoonie” You told and he smiled widely showing off his teeth, the sharp ones peeking out, he leaned down to your bare skin and you shivered

His teeth crazed over the unblemished skin but he screwed his eyes tight and huffed. He grabbed his length and dragged it over your soapy folds, he let out a shudder when the wetness met with him. He immediately crumbled as you clawed at his shoulders when aligned his tip at your entrance.

You could feel the stretch slightly protruding until it broke through. “Hoonie” You mewled his name as he slowly pushed himself in

“Fuck princess you’re so good- Absolutely the best” Sunghoon felt dizzy, the wet warm confidment engulfing him worked wonders in his foggy mind

Each inch that he gave you, you took without fail. “Shhh it’s okay. I’m right here. I got you” He rubbed your hips as the single handed most harmonic sounds ripped from you as you adjust to the stretch of your wall to accommodate him

You pushed your head right into his neck, your arms hooking under his to keep him close. “You’re doing amazing” His reassurance bloomed into your chest and with a weaken shake of your head, his heart fluttered

“Are you sure?” He tiptoed as if he wasn’t already inside of you

You shot him a glare that you knew he could feel and weakly laughed, “Whatever you want”

He pulled back his hips before pushing back in and he was gone, easily getting lost in the sense of you engulfing him whole. His pace slow and calculated to your pleasure, he didn’t pull away just enough to leave you empty but enough to make sure you knew he was gone.

With each thrust, you could feel the pure rawness of Sunghoon being opened to you. You knew he was trying to remain his composure, the strained noise from his closed mouth directly to your ear. While you didn’t hold back, you let any sound slip past your mouth into his ear followed with the drag of your nails down his shoulder blades and back.

His tip poked around the gummy walls, filling the hollowness that you swore you could feel him poking your g-spot that had made you cling to him harder. His hand at your sides squeezed tightly, “You’re a good girl. So fucking good to me”

You blabbed incoherency but he swore that under your breath you muttered just for you. He’s unsure if it was mind playing tricks on him but he ran with that buried in his mind.

Sunghoon focused on keeping his thrust slow and ryhtmic. Even though you tried to meet with his thrust halfway, he only pushed your body further down on the mattress to keep you in place.

Your mind was running blank, the care of professionals far long that you couldn’t even see where you left it. “Hoon- Sunghoon!” You cradled him to show the desperation you had

But he could see it, already feeling it wrapping around him. His mind was being rewired—so focused on burning this feeling in his mind with a lingering thought this couldn’t be it. He wouldn’t allow it.

“Let me hear you princess. Let me know who is making you feel like this” The tips of his fingers pushed into the flesh of your skin as he kept pushing himself in and out of your, “Don’t keep quiet please- Let me know” The tome of his voice growing higher with each word

Tangling one of your hands into the fluff of his hair, resting your face on his head, closing your eyes and biting your lip to stop more sounds from falling out.

The hand on your side loosened and managed to slip through the tanglement of your sweaty bodies to your clit, you gasped loudly and tugged harshly on his hair. “It was calling for me. I couldn’t ignore you”

His offering words flipped something in you, it was unsure what did but your concealed mouth and through the obscene sounds, you managed to mutter the words Sunghoon wanted to hear. “So good Hoonie”

“So good for me”

Instead of keeping his pace, he groaned when you whispered it into his ear, with one thrust, Sunghoon flipped. No longer the careful and slow ones, it was now sloppy and face. The air got knocked out of you trying to get used to the new pace.

Your body jolts into your bedding more with the thrust, your arms shaking off his body to lay at your sides and grip the sheets into your fist. Your head turned to the side when you felt him pull from your body but his thrust let up.

“Just a little more- Take it for me princess” He rubbed harder on the bundle of nerves as he rammed into your soaked self

“Can I come inside? Please. Please” He weakly pleaded as he stared at your moving body, while you may not have been facing him, you must be thinking about it when you’re moaning like that

Sunghoon pistons himself out of you, his skin meeting your skin to mix with the sounds already bouncing off your walls. He thought this was heaven but when you clamped around him, the hole contracted around him. He knew it was better than heaven.

And he would be willing to give up anything to keep you.

“Yes. Yes. Please” You slurred through the noises, your tits bouncing with each thrust that entranced him, he couldn’t look away from you even if he wanted to

You clawed at your bed to stabilize just how harsh he was going. Your mind melted to mush, “Going to fill you up just of me”

“I need you to know that you will always have me. Carrying me inside of you” He huffs while the thrust grew sloppy and messy, “I am always with you princess”

Instead of being such possessive wording, it felt warmer and genuine. The glittered erupted in your stomach but the thought washed always when he harshly rubbed down on the bundle of nerves and spurted his hips one last time.

Your back arched off the bed and a moan ripped out of you but Sunghoon only slowed down his movements as you came over him, “Hoonie- Too much” You tried to wither but he pressed down on both side of your hips to continue his relentless plunges

“Just a little more, take it for me princess. Doing so good for me. be a good girl” He blabbed in one breath as he tried to ignore the tightness around his length

You buried your head deeper to the side and screwed your eyes shut as mewls and wails slipped past your quivering lip. Your crumbled sheets flipped and wrinkled under your moving bodies. Sunghoon kept your hips in place for his thrust until they came to a hilt and a moan mixed with a whine ripped from his chest past his throat when you felt a twitch inside of you.

“Hoonie” You weakly called out to him, he hummed softly but he rocked his hips in slow manners making you whine but him softly smile as the velvet walls were painted of him

“Take it for me” You were unable to respond due to heavily panting, trying to regulate your breath but it got caught in your throat when a finger hooked under your jaw and turned your head

You weakly opened your eyes to see Sunghoon’s glistening from the moonlight shining through the window, the sparkling eyes that looked like they held the universe in them stared at you. “Sunghoon” You called out his name

The way it rolled off your tongue made his heart hammer and a blush warm his cheeks. He squished his lips together and his cheeks rose as he wiped away any sweat from your face. His eyes softened at your state and creased your cheek, he leaned down and captured your mouth with his.

He hummed softly as he held you close. Your arms wrapped around his neck when his arms hooked under your body to pull you close, he didn’t pull out with the thought of keeping himself as close to you as possible and you didn’t say anything.

$$$

The sunlight blared into the room making your face scrunch. You jerked slightly and groggily opened your eyes. The window was slightly ajared as a gust of wind washed in and moved your curtains.

A soreness coursed through your body and you sighed heavily as you tried to straighten out of your state. You peered over to your shoulder and saw the dipped empty space where Sunghoon once laid.

You tried to rack your brain of what happened after it all but it was blurred to the point you remember the last peck he gave to your forehead as he murmured something that you couldn’t pick up before you fell asleep.

Pushing yourself up on your arms you winced softly, the sheets falling off your body only to see a shirt bigger than yours draped over you. Your brows crease in the middle but you jump when your bedroom door opens and in walked Sunghoon holding a tray of water, some cut up fruits and steaming wet towels

He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed you awake, “What are you doing?”

“I-I” He stuttered over his words, not really sure what to say but when you let out a giggle, the initial worry washed away, “For when you woke up” He softly said while walking over to you with the tray at hand

You speech yourself up on your headboard and see him shirtless with only his pants hanging off his hips, “Couldn’t put a shirt on?” You ask when he sits on the edge of the bed and placed the tray on his lap

He points to the respective things on the tray until you nod your head at the water and quickly hands it to you. “You’re wearing it”

You look down to the material and realize it was in fact true. “Do you want it back?” You pick at the shirt but he stops you and shakes his head

“No actually keep it. I like how it looks on you way better than it will ever look on me” He smiled softly before rubbing his nape, a shy smile casting over his face,“Was I-I uh too rough last night? I’m sorry… I’ll tone it down next time”

You extend your free hand to crease his head, the fluff of his bed hair sticking all over the place. He met your gaze to the glowing hue of the sunlight casting a shadow over you while you looked at him. He shook your head down to his cheek and nestled into your palm.

But when you open your mouth to respond but unintentionally he cuts you off. Sunghoon softly muttered through a soft pout of his lips but clear enough to hear from a mile away, “You’re glowing princess”

Your mouth tugged upwards softly, such a picture perfectly painted in the eyes of everyone else, now laid destroyed and ruined in front of you.

$$$

When you stepped into the office, you didn’t expect it to be buzzing so early in the morning. Everyone stood in front of any screen they could get their hands on. You furrowed your brows trying to recall if there was something supposed to be happening.

You quickly put down the new prada bag Sunghoon bought you after seeing you eye it for a second longer than the rest and walked over to where everyone was.

When you made it to the crowd everyone froze and stared at you with. You were going to ask what happened but you stopped when Sunghoon’s face came into frame.

He wore a black sleek suit with hair parted neatly, not a smile in sight as he bows to the reporters. The flashing lights going off from the cameras made you feel bad for his eyes constantly going through that. But the worry washed away when he was handed a mic.

An unease erupted in your stomach, the palpitations of your heart made you feel lightheaded and adrenaline high for an unknown reason.

“Thank you everyone for coming on such short notice” Sunghoon cleared his throat, the mic faintly picking it up as he straightened out his posture

“I want to say I am grateful for everything that has led me to this point of my life. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the help of those close and charitable to me”

“Without them I wouldn’t be here today and sometimes I think if it was for the worse or the better”

“I’ve thought about this thoroughly and so from this day onward… I am declaring my resignation from the team and officially announcing my retirement from the public eye”

“This was Park Sunghoon” He bows at a perfectly 90 degree angle to the clamoring reporters physically there and rushed flashing camera lights captured the moment better than you could’ve

Through the confined space, the people around you gasped loudly as they looked at each other before ultimately looking back at you who stood frozen staring at the screen.

Your boss whom you hadn’t seen harshly grabbed your arm, digging her fingers into your skin while giving a shaky glare. “Fix this” She grits through her teeth

You didn’t respond and pulled your arm away as your body moved on its own. Heavy steps after another as you attempt to rush back to your cubicle and hastily fish out your phone.

It was hard to get a grasp through slippery hands but your mind was reeling and you felt like you were going to crumble and have the world swallow you whole. Even with your attempts to even out your breathing, you couldn’t breathe..

What is he thinking?! There’s no way that he is doing this, not when you were so close.

But the faint call of your name caused you to snap harsher than you meant, you saw your friend who stares with shocked eyes and you huffed loudly and rubbed your creased forehead, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snap. Right now just isn’t the best time”

“I know but I just wanted to tell you not to worry so much about this”

The choice of words but your brows knit even deeper with confusion, there was no way she didn’t realize the grand scale of what is happening and what this entails for your career. “What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t heard?” The grip on your phone loosened when she relayed the sudden break of rumor circling around the internet right when Sunghoon declared his retirement just a few moments ago—The silence of months finally shouting and slapping you directly in the face

“Rumor has it Lee Heeseung is back”

——

taglist: @firstclassjaylee @chososg1rl @suhwife @ziiao @littlesweettea-aine @yunlazia @m1kkso @isagistar @shiningnono @fancypeacepersona @talesofthegreatest @cloud-lyy @nickiminajleftasscheek @moonchild-moonfairy @chobitos @dollyyun @no1likeneo @river-demon-slayer @tunafishyfishylike @ilovhoonie @lovingvoidgoatee @cyjhhyj @love4hee @drunkodazed @roslayy @faeyun @tinycatharsis @innocygnet @ilovhoonie @yangjungwonisms @sangiewife @bambiihee @fangel @kristynaaah @jaylaxies @meowieshibal @ziiao @vampsol @minniejenseo @karinaever @tokkisluv @iamjusttryingtoreadapost @skzenhalove @hwuneji

2K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

no matter how many fics i read, this one still remains as my COMFORT FIC ✨

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding

a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least.

“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”

It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.

“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”

“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”

He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now.

“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully.

“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it.

He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there.

You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.

After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”

He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.

And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you.

“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again.

Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.

That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him.

“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.

“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further.

You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”

“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”

“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”

Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Really?”

Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”

You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”

He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”

“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”

PARK JAY

The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment.

His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.

Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you.

And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough.

“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?”

The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead.

“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.

“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”

“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly.

Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips.

Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut.

A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly.

With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly.

You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.

And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered.

You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace.

You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on.

There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?

Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles.

And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe.

You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck.

“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”

“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him.

He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry.

He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”

Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound.

He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours.

“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”

“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?”

“I love you.”

With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.

“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”

He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.

He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.

SIM JAKE

“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”

He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”

“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”

Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.

You’re honestly getting tired of it.

“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom.

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”

“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”

To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers.

“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”

You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.

Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles.

You feel awful.

Jake feels even worse.

Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”

At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting.

You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.

“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”

“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.”

“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.

“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”

The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible.

His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.

“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago.

And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.

“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”

“Fucking- Fine.”

Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand.

You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl.

“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?”

You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”

“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”

The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him.

“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”

No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well.

“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”

With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more.

He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.

“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair.

He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.

So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”

You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest.

“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”

And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago.

He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again.

You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers.

“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”

You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago.

“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”

You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”

His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”

You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”

permanent taglist + taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb @iamnotalicia

8K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

I'M SEATED. CAN'T FUCKING WAIT FOR THIS 🫶🏻 PLEASE ADD ME TO YOUR TAGLIST PLS PLS

SEVEN DEADLY SINS ⸺ HEESMILES 1K EVENT

RAIN'S MIC IS ON ⸺ The kingdom of Lunar is no stranger to sin. It lurked in the shadows of the castle in the form of seven princes who ruled with iron fists — cold as the steel in their hearts and the fire in their bones. These are their stories cut from the cloth of their sins and told on the lips of their ruin....read if you dare and maybe your own sin will come to light like its very own beacon.

(note.) Release date is one by one bases. These flics will be released over the next few months. I have not yet hit 1k but I am incredibly close so I chose to post this and get a head start. the first fic is set to come out by the end of this month (may). I'm so excited for this and I'm so incredibly grateful for all the people who support me and my works. You've made this possible. Please understand that these are seven full length fics so they will take some time. I appreciate all your patience In advance. all fics will contain dark themes, and five out of the seven will contain smut (per personal preference.) be advised, mdni.

THORNS WITH VANITY l.hs

೨౿ ⠀ ׅ ⠀ ̇ 20k ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairings 𝜗𝜚 pride ! heeseung ៹ historian ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ fantasy ˒ historical

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆ smut dark themes injuries graphic depictions of injuries + more upon publication.

in which ୨୧ Heeseung is soon to be king. Rotting the crown with his defiling vanity. He loved himself ⸺ that was no secret. So, when a spitfire, disinterested historian comes to learn of his life; he can't help but look at it from a new view.

★ ! rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . taglist open.

A CROWN FOR MY CAGE p.sh

೨౿ ⠀ ׅ ⠀ ̇ 20k ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairings 𝜗𝜚 greed ! sunghoon ៹ escort ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ fantasy ˒ historical

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆ smut dark themes injuries graphic depictions of injuries + more upon publication.

in which ୨୧ Sunghoon walks among gold and silk, yet nothing ever quenches his thirst for more. Not riches, not power, not pleasure. When he encounters you, an escort trained in the art of allure and secrets, he offers you a place in his treasury as his most “precious possession.” But you are not for sale. Your defiance intrigues him, Sunghoon’s grasp tightens, not out of affection, but obsession. Only when he risks losing you does he begin to question the price of ownership over love.

★ ! rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . taglist open.

TO KILL A REMEDY p.js

೨౿ ⠀ ׅ ⠀ ̇ 20k ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairings 𝜗𝜚 wrath ! jay ៹ healer ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ fantasy ˒ historical

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆smut dark themes injuries graphic depictions of injuries + more upon publication.

in which ୨୧ Jay rules like a storm. A war prince with a blade for a tongue and fire in his blood. until he meets you, the court healer who dares to defy him. Your presence is balm and blade, stirring the fury he was raised to wield. He wants to kill and she wants to heal two sides of the same coin, caught in the same raging storm.

★ ! rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . taglist open.

AN ENVIOUS HEART y.jw

೨౿ ⠀ ׅ ⠀ ̇ 20k ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairings 𝜗𝜚 envy ! jungwon ៹ court entertainer ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ fantasy ˒ historical

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆smut dark themes injuries graphic depictions of injuries + more upon publication.

in which ୨୧ Jungwon craved for something. anything. often overlooked by the rest of his family and the rest of the kingdom he finds himself envious of anyone with a sliver of heed. You sat on stage at every gathering, using your throat as an instrument to gage the admiration from the people he wanted it from most. envy blossoms like poison in his veins. Determined to outshine and outdo, Jungwon draws the you into his game of shadowed affections, veiled compliments, and slow manipulations. Yet the more he tries to steal your light, the more he loses his own.

★ ! rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . taglist open.

A VOW WRITTEN IN ASH s.jy

೨౿ ⠀ ׅ ⠀ ̇ 20k ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairings 𝜗𝜚 lust ! jake ៹ court lady ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ fantasy ˒ historical

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆ smut dark themes injuries graphic depictions of injuries + more upon publication.

in which ୨୧ Jake is the whispered name on a thousand lips, a constellation of temptation in Lunar’s perfumed night. As a lady of the court you have expectations, you have standards. Caught in a promiscuous position with Jake meant one thing; marriage for a proper lady never gave herself to a man who did not own her.

★ ! rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . taglist open.

THE BOY WHO ATE STARS k.sn

೨౿ ⠀ ׅ ⠀ ̇ 20k ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairings 𝜗𝜚 gluttony ! sunoo ៹ court gardner ! reader ᧁ ; fantasy ˒ historical

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆ dark themes injuries graphic depictions of injuries + more upon publication.

in which ୨୧ Sunoo was cursed. every fruit, every wine, every delicacy from every continent you name it Sunoo has tried it; the only catch, he can't taste it. You're the new royal gardener, whose strange, stubborn crops bloom only in the neglected corners of the palace. Curious, Sunoo sneaks into the garden and finds wild berries, earthy herbs, and flavors that make him cry. You begin to meet at dusk every night exchanging meals under the moon. Eventually, he realizes: what he loves most is not what fills him, but what leaves him longing to return.

★ ! rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . taglist open.

TO WAKE A DREAMER n.rk

೨౿ ⠀ ׅ ⠀ ̇ 20k ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairings 𝜗𝜚 sloth ! ni-ki ៹ court librarian ! reader ᧁ ; fantasy ˒ historical

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆ dark themes injuries graphic depictions of injuries + more upon publication.

in which ୨୧ There wasn't much Ni-ki cared about more than sleeping under the bay window of the very desolate court library. You are tasked with maintaining the neglected library, finding the lazy prince enchanting ⸺ You begin to leave little notes in his favorite books, observations, riddles, flirtations. At first, he ignores them. Then he replies. Soon, you’re trading stories through ink and parchment, learning the depths of the prince's hidden intellect and humor. And one day, when you fall asleep beside the shelves, he finally whispers the words he’s been too afraid to say.

★ ! rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . taglist open.

@izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @dawngyu , @hyukascampfire , @saejinniestar , @notevenheretbh1 , @hwanghyunjinismybae, @ch4c0nnenh4, @kristynaaah , @simj4k3 , @sangiewife , @hyunj00 , @firstclassjaylee , @teddybeartaetae , @i-am-not-dal , @xylatox , @desistay

341 notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

I REALLY HAD SO MUCH FUN AND GIGGLED WAY TOO MUCH ALL THROUGHOUT READING THIS ONE 🥺💗 THIS IS SO PRECIOUS

✩ˎˊ˗ between the shelves ( sjy ! ) — part 2

✩ˎˊ˗ part of the untouchable series | enhypen masterlist

⤷ pairing — jake x fem!reader ⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ word count — 18.7k ⤷ taglist for the series — open ! ⤷ warnings — a/b/o au, foul language, fem!reader, strangers to lovers trope-ish, jake is in love-love, jake is literally just so down bad for you oml, kinda self-depraving thoughts, tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of the other parts from this series, not proofread ⤷ a/n — this is so sweet and fluffy i legit cried writing this + here's the second part bc tumblr told me that i was too much of a yapper LMAO

✩ˎˊ˗ summary: jake had spent his whole life believing patience was his greatest virtue. it was what made him the perfect friend, the perfect son, the perfect alpha. and then he met you. and suddenly, patience felt like a cruel joke. because who would’ve thought that the big, bad, pureblooded alpha named sim jaeyun—the one who always kept his head up, would find himself wrapped around your finger? jake had always known he would have a mate someday. he had just never imagined that once he found you, he wouldn’t be able to stay away.

Jake had been careful.

Or at least, he thought he had.

But apparently, not careful enough.

Because the second he smelled it—them, it was already too late.

Jake’s body tensed, his nose twitched, and his fingers flexed against the back of the bench. The comfortable warmth of your scent was suddenly invaded, drowned out by something else.

Jake inhaled once again, and immediately regretted it.

The sharp mix of scents crashed into him all at once; strong and entirely too familiar. His grip on the bench tightened as his mind registered what this meant, who this meant.

He didn’t need to raise his head up. He already knew.

A few feet away, a cluster of figures stood at the entrance of the parking lot, their presence thick in the air. Pureblooded alphas and omegas: his friends. His pack.

Jake exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing his shoulders to relax, but it was no use. The warmth of your scent had been his safe haven for weeks, and now it was being suffocated under the weight of theirs.

He could feel the way you stilled beside him, your fingers subtly tightening around the edge of your book. You felt it too.

The realization settled in your chest like a stone.

You could feel their eyes now. The weight of their stares pressing in, a mix of emotions swirling between them: amusement, curiosity, suspicion.

Jungwon and his mate, Heeseung and his mate, Sunghoon and his mate, Sunoo and his mate. Jay and Ni-ki. All of them.

You swallowed, glancing at Jake, only to find his gaze locked straight ahead, jaw clenched. “Jake?” you whispered.

He didn’t respond.

But he did look at you. His golden-brown eyes met yours, flickering with something unreadable, it was heavy, waiting.

That silence stretched too long, and your heart started to pound. Instinct took over before you could stop yourself. “Alpha?” you murmured, softer this time, almost hesitant.

That snapped him out of it.

His shoulders eased just a fraction, his fingers flexing against the wood of the bench before he sighed. His head tilted ever so slightly, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured, “Do you wanna meet them?”

Your breath hitched.

He was waiting. Waiting for your response.

It was as if nothing else existed in that moment but the space between you and him. Not the weight of the stares boring into your back, not the amusement in Sunghoon’s smirk, not the knowing gleam in Jay’s eyes. Just Jake. Just his question.

And when you gave the smallest nod, Jake didn’t hesitate.

With ease, he reached for your things, moving as if he had done it a thousand times before. His hands brushed against yours as he fixed your books, slipping them into your bag before slinging it over his shoulder. Then, in one smooth motion, he reached for his own.

Two bags. One on each shoulder.

The sight of it sent something warm and electric through your veins. It was such a simple thing, such an Alpha thing, but your inner omega reacted instantly, curling with satisfaction, swooning.

And the worst part?

Despite the situation, despite the fact that all of your friends had just caught Jake ditching them for you—you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Jake took slow steps forward, as if still assessing the situation. His grip on your bag tightened for a moment before loosening, his gaze flickering between you and the group still watching from a few feet away.

And then—he caught it, the slightest shift in your scent.

It was subtle, barely noticeable to anyone else, but to him? It was everything.

The hesitance. The nerves. The way your omega fluttered beneath the surface, not just from the weight of their stares but from him.

And just like that, Jake didn’t hesitate.

His free hand dropped from your bag strap, fingers brushing against yours for only a second before he took your hand fully, intertwining them without a second thought.

Your breath hitched. Your head snapped up to look at him, but he wasn’t fazed at all.

Jake gave your hand a single, reassuring squeeze. Then, in a voice just above a whisper—low and teasing, meant only for you; he murmured, “How fucking unbearable are they about to be?”

Your lips parted, a small, nervous laugh tumbled past your lips. “Very unbearable.”

The silence that followed was almost deafening.

You could feel it, the weight of their stares, the unspoken words pressing into your back.

Jake, in true Jake fashion, pretended not to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

His grip on your hand didn’t loosen, his fingers still intertwined with yours like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon. His strides were slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. But you weren’t fooled.

He was stalling.

And then—

“Sim Jaeyun, you absolute menace.”

Jay’s voice rang through the air, and the exasperation in it was so familiar, so expected, that you almost laughed.

Almost.

Jake finally stopped walking, letting out a slow, drawn-out sigh before finally, finally turning to face the group. Still holding your hand.

And as expected—they were all staring.

All of them.

Sunghoon had his arms crossed, unimpressed but unsurprised, Jungwon looked beyond entertained, Sunoo was clutching Heeseung’s arm in excitement, and Ni-ki? Ni-ki had his phone out.

“Not a word.” Jake pointed a warning finger at them, but it only made Sunoo’s grin widen.

“Aww, but Jakey—”

“Not. A. Word.”

You felt the second Ni-ki snapped a picture.

Jake groaned, running a hand down his face. “I hate all of you.”

Jay scoffed. “Clearly not as much as you love disappearing on us.”

“Correction.” Sunghoon lifted a finger. “Disappearing on us for the love of his life.”

Jake gave him a flat look. “Wow, thanks for that. Really needed the clarification.”

“Oh, don’t mind us,” Jungwon added, voice dripping with amusement. “We’re just catching up with our dear council secretary. You know, since he’s been avoiding his actual responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities?” Jake echoed, feigning confusion. He squeezed your hand lightly before flashing his signature, lazy grin. “I don’t know, I think I’ve been pretty responsible.”

Jungwon blinked. Then, he laughed.

It was slow, knowing, and full of amusement.

Because it was true.

Because even when he was ditching them, Jake had still been keeping everything in order. Still answering emails, still approving proposals, still handling every little thing he needed to.

He just… hadn’t been doing it in person.

“Do you know what I had to suffer through today, Sim?” Sunghoon cut him his thoughts, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “Coach absolutely wrecked me on the field. Do you know why?” He paused for effect. “Because my dear best friend, my beloved council secretary, my alpha packmate—left me to die.”

Jake sighed. “Sunghoon—”

“Left. Me. To. Die.”

“You weren’t even there on time.”

“That’s not the point!” Sunghoon threw his hands up. “I had to run extra laps alone! Do you know how humiliating it is to be the only one doing laps while everyone else is just standing there watching?”

Jungwon nodded sagely. “That does sound tragic.”

“Oh, utterly devastating.” Sunoo pressed a hand to his chest. “Poor Sunghoon. Abandoned. Betrayed.”

Sunghoon clicked his tongue. “Exactly. And for what? For you to come running to your omega?”

That did it. You finally laughed, the sound slipping out before you could stop it.

Jake blinked. Then smirked. “Sounds like a pretty good reason to me.”

Sunghoon’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”

Ni-ki burst out laughing. “Dude, he didn’t even hesitate.”

Jungwon chuckled. “Man knows his priorities.”

Jay exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

Jake only smirked, shrugging. “I do my best.”

Then, before anyone else could add more, he cleared his throat, straightening up.

“Alright,” he said, voice cutting through the noise. “Since you guys are so invested in my love life—”

“Secret love life.” Heeseung corrected.

Jake ignored him.

“—I might as well make this official,” he finished, then turned to you, his gaze softening. “(Y/N), meet my incredibly nosy, insufferable friends.”

Sunoo gasped. “Did you just call us insufferable?”

Jake smirked. “You deserved that one.”

Before anyone else could chime in, Heeseung’s mate stepped forward, looking straight at you with a knowing smile.

“Oh, we know her,” she said, and then—“More than you do.”

Jake blinked, brows furrowing. “What?”

Before you could even begin to explain, Jungwon’s mate tilted her head, grinning.

“This little missy’s been hiding a lot from us these past few weeks,” she teased, crossing her arms. “I’m honestly impressed we didn’t figure it out sooner.”

Jake turned to you, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been hiding from them?”

Your face warmed, but you squared your shoulders, pursing your lips. “…Maybe.”

“Oh, my God.” Sunoo'smate looked delighted. “So this was a two-way sneaking-around situation? Adorable.”

And then—before you could react, Sunghoon’s mate and Sunoo's mate were suddenly at your side, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Finally! A new friend!” Sunghoon’s mate beamed.

“Oh, this is gonna be so fun!” Sunoo's mate added, already looping her arm through yours. “We have so much to talk about.”

Jake frowned, pulling you back toward him. “Okay, can we all calm down?”

Jungwon's mate smirked. “What’s wrong, Sim? Afraid we’ll steal your girl?”

Jake glared. “We’re not even official yet.”

Silence.

And then—

Laughter.

Full, unrestrained, absolutely merciless laughter.

“Oh, honey.” Heeseung’s mate patted your arm, smiling fondly. “You’re already one of us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungwon waved Jake off. “Technicalities, technicalities. It’s basically official.”

Jake shook his head. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Heeseung shrugged. “And you’re in love.”

Jake froze.

And then—he scoffed.

But he didn’t deny it.

The low purr of the engine filled the space between you, steady and smooth as Jake effortlessly navigated the road. The once playful energy that surrounded you both earlier had shifted into something quieter, softer.

The streetlights flickered past in a golden blur, casting fleeting glows over his face. Sharp jaw, slightly tousled hair, the relaxed curve of his mouth.

And his hand; still warm against yours. Still holding on.

Not like before, when it had been a casual, almost unconscious gesture.

No, this was different, this was intentional.

Jake was driving with one hand, his other still intertwined with yours, resting against the center console like it belonged there. And maybe… maybe it did.

“You good?” His voice broke the comfortable silence, gentle but teasing. “You’ve been staring at me for a while now, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “I have not.”

Jake hummed, clearly amused. “No? Then what were you looking at?”

You huffed, shifting in your seat. “I was just… thinking.”

“About?”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to say it, but because you weren’t sure how to.

Jake, however, wasn’t one for patience. With a slight squeeze of your hand, he coaxed, “Come on, pretty girl. Let me in.”

You exhaled, fingers tightening around his. “Just… your friends.”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Ah. Yeah. Them.”

You laughed softly. “You make it sound like they’re the problem.”

“Well, they are,” he said, grinning. “Did you see the way Sunghoon was looking at me? I swear he was two seconds away from kicking my ass.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s because you ditched him on the field, Jake.”

“For a very valid reason,” he defended, tapping his thumb against your skin absentmindedly. “I mean, come on, what’s more important? A stupid practice game or my favorite omega?”

Your breath hitched. Just a little.

But he noticed, and that cocky little smirk of his deepened.

“Jake,” you warned.

“What?” He feigned innocence. “I’m just saying. If you were me, wouldn’t you choose the same?”

You gave him a look, but your silence spoke volumes.

Jake chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”

Another beat of silence. Another flicker of golden light over his skin.

Then—

“You know, they really like you,” Jake murmured, a bit more serious now. “Even if they’re insufferable.”

Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you briefly, his gaze softer than you’d ever seen it. “So, I hope they didn’t overwhelm you too much. I know they can be a lot.”

You smiled. “It was… a lot. But not in a bad way.”

Jake’s fingers flexed slightly around yours, like he liked that answer.

“Good.”

The car slowed as he pulled up in front of your place, but neither of you made a move to get out just yet.

The street was quiet. The world felt small.

And Jake? He looked too damn good in the dim light, one hand on the wheel, the other still tangled with yours.

Jake’s foot eased off the gas the moment you passed through the large iron gates. The car rolled forward at a slower, almost leisurely pace as the long, luxurious road stretched out before you, lined with towering trees and carefully maintained flora. The headlights cast soft glows along the stone pathway, painting the scenery in warm, golden hues.

He was stalling, you could tell.

The way his fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, the way his other hand, still holding yours, tightened just the slightest bit.

Sim Jaeyun was never the nervous type. He was always so sure of himself, so effortlessly confident. But right now? With the way he exhaled softly, the way his jaw tensed and relaxed in quick succession, you knew.

Something was coming.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Jake murmured, eyes flickering briefly to you before settling back on the road.

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Thinking about what?”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “You.”

Your breath hitched, and he noticed—of course, he did.

Jake glanced at you again, this time longer, like he wanted to see your reaction. Then, with a soft squeeze of your hand, he continued.

“I didn’t think it’d happen like this.” He exhaled, shaking his head lightly. “I didn’t think we would happen like this. But then I started spending more time with you. Started prioritizing you over things I never thought I’d neglect.” He clicked his tongue. “And the thing is, sweetheart? I didn’t even care.”

His grip on the wheel tightened, his thumb brushing absently over your knuckles.

“I didn’t care that I was missing out on game nights, that I wasn’t showing up to practice as much, that I was skipping out on meetings.” His voice softened. “Because I was with you. And that always felt more important.”

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest, you were surprised he didn’t comment on it.

Jake kept talking, his voice quieter now, like he was letting you in on a secret.

“And I tried,” he admitted, shaking his head with a small, breathy laugh. “God, I tried to be subtle about it. But the guys caught on. Hell, everyone caught on before I even did.”

Your stomach flipped. “Jake…”

He turned his head fully now, his dark eyes locking onto yours. And the intensity in them? It froze you in place.

“I want you, (Y/N).”

Your breath caught.

“I want to court you. Properly. Not just as Jake, your annoying escape from reality, not just as your friend.” He turned his palm up, allowing you to tangle your fingers with his if you wanted to. “I want to court you as your Alpha. As your mate, if you’ll let me.”

Silence.

The kind that hung heavy, filled with something more.

The car rolled to a stop at the grand entrance of your home, the world around you completely still, yet your mind spun.

Because Sim Jaeyun, the big bad council secretary, the golden boy who had it all—was offering himself to you.

Entirely.

Completely.

You stared at him, your lips parting slightly, and Jake—he waited.

No teasing remark, no smug smirk, no impatience.

Just… waiting, waiting for you, waiting for your answer.

Jake’s grip on the wheel tightened, his other hand still wrapped around yours. He hadn’t let go once. Not in the library. Not in front of his friends. Not even now.

And yet, there was hesitation in his touch.

“I meant what I said,” he finally broke the silence, voice lower now, more careful. “I want to do this right.”

You swallowed, fingers twitching slightly against his. He noticed.

“I want to court you,” he repeated, slower this time, like each word was deliberate, like they carried more weight than he knew how to handle. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand. “Not because I think I should. Not because of some expectation. But because it’s you.”

The car rolled to a stop at the base of your driveway, the soft hum of the engine lingering between you. His gaze never wavered.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” he added, quieter. “I just… I needed you to know. I needed to say it.”

The way he said it, like it was inevitable. Like it didn’t matter how long it took, because he had already made his choice.

He had chosen you.

And he was just waiting for you to choose him back.

Your breath hitched.

Jake exhaled a small laugh, shaking his head as he glanced down at your joined hands. “God, I thought I’d be good at this,” he admitted. “I thought I’d know exactly what to say, exactly how to make this sound… less terrifying.”

Your heart squeezed.

Sim Jaeyun, the ever-composed, ever-effortless Alpha—was terrified.

Because for the first time, he was giving someone the chance to say no.

And yet, he was still here. Still holding on.

Still waiting.

And maybe it was the sincerity in his voice. Maybe it was the way his fingers curled just slightly around yours, like he was memorizing the shape of them. Maybe it was the fact that deep down, you already knew your answer.

You squeezed his hand back.

Jake inhaled sharply, his entire body going still.

You didn’t let him wait any longer.

“Yes.”

His breath left him in a quiet rush, like he hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. “Yes?”

You nodded, biting down the smile threatening to break through. “Yes, Jake.”

And just like that—just like that—Jake Sim, the Alpha who had spent his life in perfect control, the student council secretary who had built his world around responsibilities and expectations, broke.

Not in the way that meant ruin, but in the way that meant relief.

Because for the first time, he wasn’t standing at the top alone.

He had you, and he wasn’t letting go, but even then, he still couldn’t believe it.

Jake let out something between a breath and a laugh, but it was unsteady, like he was struggling to ground himself. He shook his head, giving your hand a small tug before turning fully in his seat to face you.

“Wait—wait, say it again.” His voice was rushed, almost urgent, like he needed to hear it one more time just to be sure. “You actually—” He broke off, exhaling sharply before letting out a breathless laugh. “You actually said yes?”

Your chest ached in the best way possible.

“I did say yes,” you repeated, slow and teasing, and his grip on your hand only tightened.

Jake exhaled another stunned laugh, tilting his head back against the seat before running a hand through his hair. His fingers curled slightly, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or bury his face in his hands.

“Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath. “Holy shit.”

And you would’ve laughed, would’ve teased him for how utterly shaken he sounded, but then he was leaning in, forehead resting lightly against yours, his breath fanning over your lips.

“I don’t think you get it,” he murmured, voice softer now, a little more vulnerable. “I was prepared to wait. I was ready to wait as long as it took.” His fingers curled around your wrist, grounding himself in the warmth of your skin. “But then you just—” He broke off, exhaling a sharp breath, “—you just said yes like it was the easiest thing in the world.”

Your heart swelled.

“It was the easiest thing in the world,” you whispered.

Jake let out a small, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head again.

And then, he pulled you in.

Not for a kiss.

Not yet.

But just close enough that you could hear his heartbeat pounding against his ribs, just close enough that you knew, he was yours now.

Then—

The sound of the big white wooden doors opening snapped the both of you back to reality.

Jake didn’t hurry, didn’t jolt or stiffen or scramble like he’d been caught red-handed.

No, he just let out a soft chuckle, low and fond, before he begrudgingly, slowly—let go of your hand. The warmth of his palm lingered against your skin, even as he pulled away to step out of the car.

You barely had time to process the rush of cool air in his absence before he was rounding the front of his sleek black sports car, movements unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

Your door opened with a soft click, and there he was, standing before you, effortlessly illuminated by the warm glow of the driveway lights.

His eyes met yours as he extended a hand, palm up, waiting.

You slipped your fingers into his grasp without hesitation.

Jake gave the slightest squeeze before helping you out of the car.

And then, wordlessly, he ducked down, reaching inside for your bag, as if it were second nature, like it was obvious that he’d be the one carrying it. The sight of him, tall and broad, in his neatly pressed uniform, standing against the quiet of the night with your belongings in his hands; something about it felt so… domestic.

Before you could say anything, he grabbed something else, his discarded school blazer, which had been tossed carelessly onto the passenger seat earlier.

Jake straightened, holding both items with ease before turning back to you.

Then—he held his blazer out, shaking it slightly, like an unspoken invitation.

You hesitated, glancing up at him.

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “Take it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek but complied, reaching out to grasp the familiar fabric, feeling the weight of him lingering in it.

The scent—his scent—was everywhere.

And then, in an almost perfect, synchronized motion, your hands reached up to your own blazer, still snugly draped over your shoulders. You slipped it off, folding it neatly before handing it over to him.

Jake blinked once. Then twice.

His lips twitched.

“Can’t let me go without a properly scented item too, yeah?” he mused, voice laced with something teasing but sincere.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

Jake didn’t slip your blazer on, just held it, fingers curling around the soft fabric. Meanwhile, he moved forward slightly, lifting his own blazer before draping it carefully over your shoulders, adjusting the collar just right.

The moment was soft, warm.

And then—

“Ahem.”

A small, quiet cough cut through the thick silence.

Jake froze.

Your heart plummeted.

Slowly—so, so slowly—your heads turned toward the front porch.

There stood your mother.

Still dressed in her business attire from work, a hand perched on her hip, her gaze cool but undeniably amused as she took in the sight before her. The sight of you, bundled in Jake’s blazer, standing just a little too close to him under the soft glow of the peeking moonlight.

Jake straightened. Not stiffly, but… refined. Almost like he was preparing to introduce himself to a superior officer.

Your mom tilted her head, the corners of her lips twitching.

With a quiet, knowing sigh, she muttered, “Young love.”

Your stomach dropped.

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, half a laugh, half disbelief.

Meanwhile, you, mortified beyond belief—groaned, hiding your face behind your hands.

Jake barely had time to school his expression before your mother took a slow step forward, heels clicking softly against the marble porch floor.

The corners of her lips curled just slightly, not quite a smirk, not quite a smile, just enough to let you know she was enjoying every second of this.

Meanwhile, you were dying.

Young love? Young love? Oh, you were never going to hear the end of this.

Jake, for his part, seemed to recover faster than you. He straightened—not stiffly, but with that effortless poise he always carried himself with. He still held onto your blazer, fingers curled around the soft fabric, like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon.

Your mom’s gaze flickered to the exchanged blazers, the way his sat snugly over your shoulders, the way yours was still resting in his grip.

A knowing glint passed through her eyes.

Then, without hesitation, she turned to Jake and said, “You’re staying for dinner.”

Not a question. Not even a suggestion. A statement.

Jake blinked.

You blinked.

Your jaw nearly dropped.

Your mother simply shrugged, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as if she hadn’t just casually invited Jake into your home for dinner.

Jake’s lips parted slightly, caught between amusement and surprise, but he recovered quickly. He shifted his hold on your blazer, glanced at you briefly before nodding, effortlessly slipping into that charming, golden boy demeanor of his.

“I’d be honored,” he said smoothly, giving your mother a slight bow of his head.

You groaned under your breath, pressing your fingers against your temples. This was not happening.

Your mother, entirely unbothered, turned her attention back to you.

“(Y/N), dear,” she said airily, clasping her hands together. “Please inform me ahead of time when you're bringing Jaeyun over, yes?”

Jake coughed.

You choked.

Your mom merely smiled.

Jake, to his credit, kept it together. Mostly. He tilted his head, eyes twinkling with barely contained laughter as he leaned slightly in your direction.

“Well?” he mused, voice rich with amusement. “You heard your mom.”

You glared at him.

He grinned.

The warm glow of chandeliers illuminated the grand foyer as you and Jake stepped inside, the scent of freshly prepared dishes wafting through the air.

The moment the doors shut behind you, the sight that greeted Jake was the chefs bustling in the open-concept kitchen, a handful of staff moving seamlessly, plates clinking, and the rich aroma of slow-cooked meats filling the space.

Jake let out a low whistle, eyes flickering over the scene before turning to you. “So… what’s for dinner?”

You snorted. “I don’t know. You’ll find out with the rest of us.”

“Great,” he said, amused. “Love a little mystery in my life.”

Your mom, already slipping into host mode, gave Jake a polite smile before excusing herself toward the kitchen, probably to oversee the final preparations.

Which left the two of you alone.

“Come on,” you said, motioning for him to follow you toward the living room. “Let’s get comfortable before they make us sit through some formal dinner.”

Jake chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets as he trailed behind you. “So, do I sit wherever, or is there some unspoken family hierarchy I need to know about?”

You threw him a look over your shoulder. “You’re fine, golden boy. Just don’t sit in my dad’s chair, unless you have a death wish.”

Jake raised his hands in mock surrender, lips quirking up. “Noted. Avoid the dad throne.”

The two of you settled onto the plush couch, the air shifting into something more relaxed, comfortable. You curled your legs under you, and Jake, ever the gentleman, didn’t immediately invade your space—though the scented blazer still draped over your shoulders said enough about the way he wanted to.

The soft murmur of the staff in the kitchen filled the background.

And then—

A deep, serious voice cut through the space.

Your dad.

Both of you stilled, tuning in as the unmistakable authority in his tone rang clear.

“—If the shipment doesn’t arrive by Friday, I expect a full report by the end of the day. No excuses.”

Jake leaned in slightly, brows lifting, intrigued.

Another pause. Your father’s voice lowered slightly, but still firm. “No. I want the contract finalized before the month ends. I don’t care what needs to be done, just make it happen.”

It was funny, he had spent years in rooms full of powerful business partners, men who made decisions that shifted markets and controlled entire industries. He had shaken hands with some of the most influential Alphas in the country. He had sat through negotiations worth millions, unflinching.

But this?

Facing your dad?

He was nervous.

God, he was so screwed.

Because this wasn’t just some businessman, this was your father; your very much pureblooded of an Alpha father.

And Jake was about to do something infinitely more terrifying than striking a deal.

He was asking for his daughter and risking it all didn’t even begin to cover it.

His hand flexed at his side as the sound of your father’s deep voice grew closer, footsteps heavy against the marble floors. The call had ended, the sharp clack of his phone being placed down echoing through the vast space.

Jake straightened.

Your dad stepped into the room.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of presence that could silence a room without saying a word. He barely looked at Jake at first, his gaze landing on you instead. And just like that, the hardened businessman softened.

“Did you just get home?” he asked, voice much gentler than it had been on the call.

You nodded. “Jake drove me.”

That was when your dad finally turned to him.

Jake didn’t miss a beat, he stood up immediately, straight-backed, and bowed slightly before extending a hand.

“Good evening, sir,” he said, perfectly composed, though his fingers curled just a little tighter. “Sim Jaeyun, please, just call me Jake. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Your dad’s eyes flickered to his outstretched hand.

Then, slowly, he clasped it.

The handshake was firm, and Jake wasn’t stupid enough to think that was unintentional.

“Jake.” Your father’s voice was slow, calculated. “I remember you.”

Jake nodded, maintaining steady eye contact. “I’ve had the privilege of seeing you before at a few events.”

“Mm.” Your dad hummed, unimpressed. “And now you’re here. In my home.”

Jake felt the weight of the words. He refused to let it shake him.

“Yes, sir,” he said evenly. “Thank you for having me.”

Your dad’s gaze flickered. Assessing. Calculating.

“Do you like cars, Jake?”

Jake nearly let out a relieved laugh, but he knew better. Instead, he grinned. “I love cars, sir.”

Your dad’s expression didn’t change. But there was a glint of approval in his eyes.

“Good.” He released Jake’s hand, then gestured toward the dining room. “Let’s talk over dinner.”

Jake caught your gaze for a brief second before following your father, only to catch the amused, shit-eating grin on your lips.

He huffed a quiet laugh.

You knew he’d survive.

Jake had barely taken a step before your dad’s voice rang through the space, cutting through the distant clatter of the kitchen.

“That black sports car outside.”

Jake halted mid-stride, his fingers tightening slightly at his sides.

Your dad turned to him, arms crossed, gaze sharp. “That yours?”

It was a simple question, but the weight behind it made something coil in Jake’s stomach.

“Yes, sir,” Jake answered, nodding with practiced ease. His voice was steady, his posture relaxed, but you saw the way his jaw tensed for just a fraction of a second.

Your father hummed.

Jake nearly swayed on his feet.

It wasn’t disapproval, but it wasn’t outright approval either. It was the kind of sound that could mean anything, and Jake knew better than to assume the best too soon.

Your dad’s eyes flicked towards the door, as if mentally reviewing the car in question. Finally, he turned back to Jake, tilting his head slightly. “What model?”

Jake almost let out a breath of relief. “McLaren Artura,” he answered, voice calm but undeniably proud.

Your dad’s brows lifted ever so slightly. “Hybrid, right?” he asked, his tone shifting from scrutinizing to genuinely interested.

Jake internally grinned. He knew that tone.

“Yes, sir.” His shoulders eased just a fraction as he continued, “Twin-turbo V6, powerful but efficient.”

Your father actually nodded, his lips twitching in what could almost be called approval.

“It’s an incredible drive,” Jake admitted, unable to hide the slight excitement in his voice. “Would you like to take a look after dinner?”

Your dad barely hesitated. “I’d like that.”

And just like that, the atmosphere shifted.

The tension in Jake’s shoulders disappeared completely. He let out a slow exhale, stealing a glance at you, only to find you already watching him with barely contained amusement.

Your lips twitched.

Jake shot you a told you so look, the corner of his mouth curving slightly.

You just grinned.

Because, of course all it took was a damn car to break the ice.

Your dad barely gave you a second to recover from his unexpected interest in Jake’s car before he turned to you with a teasing glint in his eye.

“Come on, (Y/N), don’t keep your suitor waiting.”

Jake barely had a second to process your dad’s words before you froze beside him.

Your eyes widened in absolute shock, head snapping toward him so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. Your dad? The same man who had spent years maintaining his unreadable, intimidating aura? He just casually called Jake your suitor?

Jake, meanwhile, stiffened beside you. Not in fear, no, at this point, he had already thrown himself headfirst into the battlefield that was your family; but in pure disbelief.

Your dad let out a low chuckle, effortlessly amused at both your reactions. Then, before either of you could fully recover, he gave Jake a firm clap on the back. Not light, not cautious, just enough force to make Jake jolt slightly in surprise.

"Relax, son,” your dad mused, eyes glinting with something almost mischievous. "I was the same way with her mom."

Your jaw dropped.

Jake, who had just barely started to regain his composure, choked on air.

Your dad? The same man who had kept his business empire running with an iron grip? The same man who rarely let emotions slip past his carefully built walls? Once upon a time, he had been just as whipped as Jake was now?

Jake straightened slightly, as if realizing that. His lips parted just a little, and then, ever so subtly, a smirk tugged at his mouth. It was barely there, almost unnoticeable. But you saw it.

Jake was relieved, like some kind of weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Like this small confirmation from your dad was the reassurance he hadn’t even realized he needed.

Your dad smirked at the sight, already making his way toward the dining hall. “Come on, let’s eat.”

Jake exhaled, finally relaxing. He turned to you, catching your gaze with a look that was half amused, half triumphant. You just huffed, biting back a smile as you both followed your dad into the dining area.

The dining hall was massive but warm. Despite the high ceilings and the long mahogany table stretching across the center, the soft glow of the chandelier cast a golden hue over the space, making it feel less like a cold, formal setting and more like home. The faint scent of herbs and spices wafted from the kitchen, promising a well-prepared meal.

Jake slowed down as you both reached the table. Before taking his seat, he momentarily set down your bag and his blazer—your blazer, on the side of the couch near the dining hall entrance, making sure they were placed neatly.

Jake hadn’t even taken his seat yet. Instead, he moved wordlessly, hands brushing against the back of the chair as he pulled it out for you. There was no hesitation, just quiet, effortless care.

You hesitated for only a second before sitting down, watching as he made sure you were comfortable before pushing the chair in gently. The moment was brief, simple, yet something about it made warmth bloom in your chest.

Just around the corner, where the kitchen met the dining hall, your parents lingered for a second longer. A glance was exchange, one of knowing, of quiet approval.

Then, they stepped in.

Your mom took her usual seat first, and your dad followed soon after, settling at the head of the table. He didn’t say much at first, simply reaching for his glass of water.

Your dad set down his glass, regarding him with a thoughtful look before asking, “How’s your father doing?”

Jake swallowed his bite of food before answering. “He’s doing well, sir. Still as hands-on as ever when it comes to the business.”

Your dad nodded. “And how’s it been? The family business?”

Jake’s lips twitched slightly, something fond in his expression. “Really good, actually. We’ve opened more branches recently, both for the restaurants and the malls. My father’s been focusing on expansion in other regions, and I’ve been following him more closely to learn how to manage everything. It’s been challenging but rewarding.”

Your dad hummed in approval. “Planning to take over one day?”

“Yes, sir,” Jake said without hesitation. “I’ve always wanted to. I’ve been training for it properly a few years back, but I started learning the basics way before that. My father believes that the best way to understand the business is by experiencing every level of it firsthand.”

Your mom smiled, clearly impressed, while your dad nodded in agreement.

You sat quietly, not wanting to intrude, though your attention had shifted slightly, toward the mashed potatoes sitting just a few plates away from Jake. You weren’t even thinking about it, really, just absently staring, considering whether or not you wanted to reach for them.

Jake, ever observant, noticed.

Without breaking his flow in conversation, he reached for the dish, smoothly setting it down in front of you before finally glancing your way.

“Do you want anything else?” His voice was low, meant just for you. “String beans, carrots, shrimp?”

You blinked, a little caught off guard, but shook your head. “No, I’m good. Thank you.”

Jake gave a small nod, as if satisfied with your answer, before effortlessly shifting back to your dad, seamlessly continuing their conversation.

It was such a simple moment, but something about it—his attentiveness, the way he so naturally took care of you made warmth curl in your chest.

Your parents exchanged another look.

Yeah. Jake had definitely won them over.

The kitchen smelled like vanilla and melted butter, the warmth of the oven humming softly in the background. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting golden patterns on the marble counter where you stood, a wooden spoon in hand as you mixed the cookie dough in a glass bowl.

Jake was seated on one of the stools at the kitchen island, elbows resting lazily on the counter as he watched you. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing his forearms as he idly drummed his fingers against the cool surface. He’d been stealing bits of cookie dough whenever you weren’t looking, but you let it slide.

“So, explain to me again,” Jake said, breaking the quiet. “Why are walnuts a crime in cookies?”

You huffed, pausing to shoot him a look. “Because some of us actually enjoy soft, chewy cookies.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. ��You have zero appreciation for texture.”

“I appreciate textures that make sense,” you corrected.

Jake chuckled, leaning forward to swipe a bit of cookie dough from the bowl. He popped it into his mouth before you could swat him away.

“Well, more for me, then.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, sending the Alpha a teasingly glare.

“By the way, my parents want to meet you.”

You froze for half a second, just long enough for Jake to notice. The spoon in your hand stopped mid-stir, and when you turned to look at him, your voice was steady, but your fingers gripped the edge of the bowl a little tighter.

“Really?”

Jake immediately caught the nervousness laced in that single word. His lips curled up slightly, half amusement, half affection—before he pushed himself off the stool.

“Mhmm,” He hummed as he made his way around the counter, closing the space between you. You weren’t facing him yet, still staring at the dough like it held all the answers to your life, so he gently rubbed his hands up and down your arms

“Hey,” he murmured, voice softer now. “It's just my parents, not a police interrogation.”

He let out a small chuckle, hoping to ease the tension, but you only sighed, grip loosening on the spoon but not quite relaxing.

“What if they don’t like me?” you muttered, finally turning to face him. Your brows furrowed, uncertainty flickering behind your eyes. “What if I say something wrong? Or they think I’m not… I don’t know, enough for you?”

Jake clicked his tongue, tilting his head slightly. “First of all, impossible.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jake—”

“Second of all,” he cut in, grinning now, “if my parents don’t like you, I’m disowning them.”

That made you pause. “Jake.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, hands squeezing your arms reassuringly. “But seriously, that’s not gonna happen. My mom already thinks you’re great, and my dad is all about first impressions. Just be yourself.” He shrugged. “Worst case scenario, you bribe them with cookies.”

You let out a breathy laugh despite yourself, finally feeling some of the tension melt away. “You think that’ll work?”

Jake smirked. “Babe, you had me wrapped around your finger after one batch.”

You sighed, your hands instinctively finding his as they rested on your arms.

Jake gave your arms another reassuring squeeze before dipping his head slightly, voice laced with certainty. “Besides, our parents work in close circles. I just know they’ll love you.”

He nudged his nose against your temple playfully before adding, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, omega.”

Your breath hitched slightly at the way he said it—soft, teasing, but still carrying that familiar weight of possession, of affection.

You scoffed, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “That obvious, huh?”

Jake grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Painfully.”

You groaned, leaning back against him dramatically, and he chuckled, easily holding you up. “I hate you.”

“Mm, no you don’t,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You love me, and you’re gonna charm the hell out of my parents, just like you did with yours truly.”

You nudged him lightly with your elbow, and he let out a mock oof before grinning against your skin.

“Anyway,” he continued, dropping another kiss to the side of your head. “On the bright side, you’ll finally get to meet Layla.”

That made you perk up slightly. “Your dog?”

“My baby,” Jake corrected, pulling back just enough to look at you. “And trust me, once she sees you, I’m pretty sure she’s gonna forget I exist.”

You laughed, the last remnants of your nerves fading. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Oh, you will,” he smirked. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when she ditches me for you.”

You fumbled with your necklace, fingers grazing over the small pendant as if it would somehow calm the nerves bubbling in your stomach. You exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself, but it wasn’t working.

A beige coat wrapped snugly around your frame, paired with a brown sweater underneath and a black skirt—something Jake specifically asked you to wear.

Jake had texted you the night before, the alpha sending a flurry of ‘I miss you messages’ before casually asking you to wear something beige tomorrow. When you asked why, he said that he wanted to match with you—like this was just some casual thing and not the biggest meeting of your life.

You pushed open your bedroom door, stepping out and making your way down the spiral staircase. Each step felt heavier than the last, and the motion did nothing to help the uneasy feeling settling in your chest. You weren’t even in the car yet, and it already felt like you had a rock in your stomach.

Jake’s parents wanted to meet you. That was all this was.

So why did it feel like you were walking into a battlefield?

As you stepped into the hall leading to the living room, your eyes immediately landed on the neatly wrapped box of cookies you had prepared that morning.

A small gift for his parents, something to bring, something to keep your hands busy, something to make a good first impression. You reached out to grab it, only to freeze when you noticed someone else sitting on the couch.

Your mom.

She was staring at you with glossy eyes, and before you could even react, she was already on her feet, pulling you into a quick but tight embrace.

You stood there, blinking, arms awkwardly hovering in the air as she held onto you like she was about to send you off to college in another country.

“…Mom?”

She pulled back just enough to cup your face in her hands, letting out a soft, wistful laugh.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You look so beautiful.”

You barely had time to register the compliment before she let out a dramatic sigh.

“My baby’s meeting her mate’s parents. Time flies so fast.”

You deadpanned. There it is.

“Mom—”

She pinched your cheek before you could finish, making you let out a small noise of protest.

“Breathe, darling,” she said, smiling. “They’re going to love you.”

Before you could argue, your dad’s voice interrupted.

Standing in the doorway, he crossed his arms and leaned against the frame, watching the scene with an amused smile.

“She hasn’t even left yet and you’re already emotional?”

Your mom shot him a glare but didn’t let go of you just yet.

“Let me have my moment.”

Your dad only chuckled, shaking his head. You sighed. This was already off to a great start.

Before any of you could say anything else, the faint sound of an engine pulling into the driveway reached your ears. You swallowed hard, heart skipping a beat.

Jake was here.

The deep, purring hum of his sleek black McLaren filled the air, the polished exterior gleaming under the soft morning light. Your dad, as expected, cast an approving nod toward the car the moment it came into view, he never failed to acknowledge Jake’s car, much to your amusement.

The door swung open smoothly, and Jake stepped out with confidence, adjusting the cuffs of his coat before shutting the door behind him. His eyes flickered toward the front door, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile the second he spotted you through the glass.

Your dad didn’t even hesitate to step forward, meeting Jake halfway with an outstretched fist. Without missing a beat, Jake bumped it with his own, the casual gesture signifying just how close they had grown in the span of a few weeks.

You blinked. If someone had told you months ago that your father and Sim Jaeyun would be on fist-bumping terms, you wouldn’t have believed it.

You took a deep breath, fingers tightening around the box in your hands before stepping forward. Your mom walked beside you, her hand brushing against your back in silent reassurance as you both made your way to the entryway. Jake met you halfway, his smile growing the moment he laid eyes on you.

Before you could say anything, your mom pulled him into a warm hug. Jake, never one to hesitate, wrapped his arms around her with ease, his touch gentle but firm.

“Take care of my baby, okay?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jake pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, nodding once with unwavering certainty. “Always.”

Something in your chest softened. He said it so naturally, like it wasn’t even a question. Like it was a promise he never had to think twice about.

And just like that, he turned to you, wordlessly reaching for the box of cookies in your hands. You blinked in surprise as he effortlessly took it from your grasp, holding it securely in one hand before his other hand found yours. His fingers slid between yours with ease as he gave them a small squeeze.

You cast one last glance at your parents, who stood side by side in the doorway, their smiles filled with something between amusement and quiet pride. Jake mirrored the gesture, flashing them his signature grin before gently tugging you forward.

Like always, he opened the passenger door for you, a silent but familiar gesture that never failed to make your heart do the smallest flip. You slid into the seat, watching as he carefully set the box of cookies in your lap before shutting the door with a soft click.

A moment later, he was in the driver’s seat, adjusting his sleeves before starting the engine. The low, smooth purr of the sportscar filled the space between you.

Jake glanced at you as he shifted into gear, his smirk playful yet reassuring. “You ready, pretty?”

You exhaled, finally allowing yourself to settle into the seat. “As I’ll ever be.”

Tall buildings stretched high into the sky, their glass windows reflecting the afternoon sun. The sidewalks bustled with people, neon signs flickered against storefronts, and the distant sounds of car horns and laughter filled the air.

Inside the car, however, it was quieter, just the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of music playing from the speakers. Jake’s hand rested effortlessly on the wheel, his other draped over your thigh, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on the fabric of your skirt as he drove through the familiar streets.

A beat of silence passed before he glanced at you. “You okay?”

You turned to look at him, his side profile glowing under the soft golden light. “Yeah.”

Jake hummed, unconvinced. His fingers drummed lightly against your thigh before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You nervous?”

You sighed, shifting slightly in your seat. “A little.”

Jake chuckled, his thumb brushing circles against your skin. “I can tell. You’ve been messing with your necklace since we left.”

Your hand immediately dropped to your lap. “I do not.”

“(Y/N).” Jake smirked as he turned onto a wider street, city lights reflecting off the sleek black exterior of his car. “You’ve been doing it since you walked out the door.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Okay, maybe I am. A little.”

Jake squeezed your thigh again. “Again, it’s just my parents, pretty. Not a job interview.”

You gave him a look. “Easy for you to say. You already passed my parents’ test.”

“And you’ll pass mine, too.” Jake’s lips curled up. “Besides, our parents work in the same circles. You think they haven’t already talked about us behind our backs?”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” You exhaled, turning your gaze to the city outside. The skyline blurred past, “What if they think I’m not… business-minded enough for their only son?”

Jake let out an amused scoff. “You’re kidding, right?”

You blinked at him.

Jake shook his head, lips quirking slightly. “You were practically born into the industry. You know how to navigate this world better than anyone. If anything, I think my parents are more worried I’m not good enough for you.”

You faltered at that, brows furrowing slightly.

Suddenly, the car rolled to a smooth stop at a red light, the soft hum of the engine filling the momentary silence between you. Jake shifted in his seat slightly, and before you could process what he was doing, he leaned over, closing the distance between you.

You barely had time to react before he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his scent enveloping you as his wrist brushed against your skin. The familiar, comforting warmth of him sent a shiver down your spine, his touch soft as he rubbed his wrist along your scent glands, letting his pheromones settle into you.

Your breath hitched, hands tightening slightly in your lap.

He inhaled deeply, voice low as he murmured, “Just so you can ease up a little.”

The tension in your shoulders loosened almost immediately, the comfort of his scent working faster than your own attempts to calm yourself down. A soft, grateful smile tugged at your lips, though he couldn’t see it with his face still pressed against you. Instead, you raised a hand, fingers slipping into his hair as you gently ran them through the soft strands.

Jake hummed at the touch, his grip on your thigh tightening for a brief second before he finally pulled back, eyes lazily flickering up to meet yours. His smirk was subtle, teasing, but his gaze held something warm.

“You’re really overthinking this, huh?”

You hesitated. “Maybe a little.”

Jake chuckled, shifting his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. “You'll be fine, omega.”

The ride continued in easy comfort, the city’s vibrant energy gradually fading as the streets grew quieter, more exclusive. You watched as the towering buildings gave way to sprawling estates, each one grander than the last, their high gates and manicured gardens a clear mark of old money.

And then, as Jake turned onto a long, private driveway, you saw it—their estate.

The first thing that caught your eye was the sheer size of the garden. Lush, endless greenery stretched across the front of the property, perfectly trimmed hedges lining the stone pathway leading up to the house.

Various trees, their branches swaying gently in the afternoon breeze, stood tall and proud, while vibrant flower beds added soft bursts of color to the landscape. A few workers were scattered around, tending to the greens—trimming bushes, watering flowerbeds, adjusting small decorative lanterns placed strategically around the garden.

You raised a brow, leaning forward slightly. “Damn. Your mom is just like mine with the plants.”

Jake let out a short laugh, slowing down as he drove past another set of hedges. “You could say that.”

Your gaze followed the stretch of land, taking in the well-maintained beauty of it all. It was similar to your own estate, but while your family leaned toward a sleek, modern aesthetic, the Sim estate carried a sense of old-world charm.

The house itself was a perfect blend of traditional and elegant—a massive structure of smooth marble mixed with rich oak wood. Tall, arched windows lined the facade, allowing glimpses of grand chandeliers and luxurious interiors inside. The pillars supporting the grand entrance had intricate carvings, and the towering front doors were framed by a classic stone archway.

Jake pulled up to the front, the car rolling to a smooth stop just before the entrance. A staff member, dressed in a crisp uniform, was already making his way down the front steps, likely to open the door for you. But before he could reach the car, Jake wordlessly beat him to it.

He stepped out smoothly, shutting the driver’s side door before rounding the front of the car to your side. You barely had time to reach for the door handle before he was already there, opening it with ease.

“Come on, pretty,” he murmured, offering his hand.

Your fingers slipped into his without hesitation, the warmth of his touch grounding you as he helped you out. The cool breeze brushed against your skin, and as you straightened up, your eyes flickered toward the house once more.

It felt real now. You were here. You were about to meet his parents.

Jake gave your hand a gentle squeeze, bringing you back to the moment. When you glanced at him, he was already reaching for the box of cookies, his other hand still holding yours firmly.

Your chest tightened at the simple yet reassuring gesture.

Before you and Jake could take another step, a blur of golden fur came rushing out from one of the garden houses. The rapid thud of paws against the stone pathway echoed in the air, followed by an excited bark.

Jake barely had time to react before the golden retriever launched herself straight at him, her tail wagging furiously as she jumped up, paws nearly reaching his chest. He laughed, shifting the box of cookies to one hand while keeping his grip on yours.

“Layla,” he greeted, his voice dropping into something softer, more affectionate. He crouched slightly, giving the dog a quick scratch behind her ears before she finally noticed you.

Her big brown eyes flickered to you, curiosity taking over as she took a hesitant step forward. Layla sniffed the air, her nose twitching before she brought it close to your free hand.

You watched her for a second before letting out a laugh, bending your knees just a little to meet her halfway. “Hey there, girl,” you cooed, running your fingers through her soft golden fur.

Layla’s tail wagged faster, her entire body practically vibrating with excitement. She gave a happy little huff before pressing herself into your touch, clearly approving of you already.

Jake grinned, watching the interaction with amused satisfaction. “I think she likes you,” he remarked.

You chuckled, scratching behind Layla’s ear. “Good. I was kinda worried she’d be the hardest one to win over.”

Jake let out an exaggerated scoff. “Excuse me?”

You glanced up at him, smirking. “What? Layla’s the real judge here.”

Layla let out a happy bark in response, her tongue lolling out as if she agreed.

Jake shook his head, but the fond smile never left his face. “Let’s go. My parents probably already waiting by the door.”

With that, he wordlessly shifted the cookie box under one arm and took your hand again with his free one, tugging you gently toward the entrance while Layla trotted happily beside you.

As you approached the front steps, the grand double doors were already beginning to open.

Jake gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?”

You exhaled slowly, glancing at him. “Do I have a choice?”

His lips quirked up, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Nope.”

The moment you reached the steps, one of the staff members outside, dressed sharply in a clean, tailored uniform—bowed his head slightly toward Jake before reaching for the grand double doors. With a practiced ease, he pulled them open, revealing the warm glow of the estate’s interior.

As the doors parted, Jake gave your hand a light squeeze, wordlessly guiding you forward. You barely had time to take in the intricate details of the grand entryway, the high ceilings, the cascading chandelier that shimmered like stars, the polished floors reflecting the golden light, before he was leading you deeper inside.

Your heart pounded as you stepped through the threshold. The faint scent of wood and something subtly floral filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of soft classical music playing from somewhere in the house.

Layla padded ahead happily, her tail still wagging as she trotted down the hallway, clearly knowing exactly where to go.

Jake, ever the effortless alpha, walked with quiet confidence. The smooth stride of his steps, the way he carried himself so naturally here, only made you more aware of the difference between your nerves and his ease.

As you passed by, another staff member stepped aside, bowing their head slightly toward Jake in silent acknowledgment before continuing with their tasks. You swallowed, this wasn’t just some casual introduction—Jake was bringing you into his home, into his world.

He must have sensed your nerves creeping back in because, without looking, he gently ran his thumb over the back of your hand in slow, comforting strokes.

“Breathe, baby, breathe,” he murmured, just low enough for only you to hear.

You exhaled, steadying yourself as you let your gaze drift to the hallway ahead. The dark oak floors stretched long, leading to an open archway where the living room came into view.

Soft, golden light filtered in through the tall windows, illuminating the plush sofas and polished coffee table. The fireplace flickered quietly in the corner, casting a warm glow over the space. The air held the faintest trace of fresh flowers, and from where you stood, you could make out a vase sitting elegantly on a side table, delicate white lilies arranged with the utmost care.

And then you saw them.

Two figures seated on the couch, their conversation pausing as they turned their attention toward the approaching footsteps.

Jake’s parents.

Your grip on his hand instinctively tightened.

Jake glanced at you, and though he said nothing, the soft, reassuring squeeze he gave you spoke volumes.

The moment your eyes met Jake’s parents, you felt it. The nerves clawing up your throat, the way your heart pounded so loud you were convinced they could hear it too.

You were pretty sure you could smell your own scent turning bitter, your anxiety seeping into the air like an unshakable weight pressing down on your chest.

Jake’s mother sat with a perfectly poised elegance, her gaze sweeping over you in a way that made you hyper-aware of every inch of yourself. Was she scrutinizing you? Did she already think you weren’t good enough for her only son?

His father, on the other hand, blinked once. Then twice. Expression unreadable, completely composed, his lips pressed into a neutral line as he studied you in a way that sent a fresh wave of unease through you.

Oh, god. What if they didn’t like you?

And then, just as you braced yourself for whatever came next, Jake’s mother suddenly stood up. The shift was so quick you barely had time to react before she was already making her way toward you, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

Your breath hitched, the tension in your shoulders locking into place.

But then—

“(Y/n), darling! It’s so nice to finally meet you in person!”

Before you could fully process it, she was pulling you into a warm hug, her arms wrapping around you with a familiarity that caught you completely off guard.

You froze for half a second, caught between your lingering nerves and the unexpected warmth of the embrace. But then you felt it, the genuine affection in her touch, the way she held you like you already belonged here.

Your chest loosened just slightly.

Jake’s scent curled around you comfortingly as he let out an amused huff beside you. “Told you there was nothing to worry about.”

You barely registered his words, still stunned as you slowly lifted your arms to hug her back.

Jake’s mother beamed at your response, pulling away just enough to hold your hands in hers. They were soft and warm, her grip gentle as if she was already treating you like family.

“Oh, sweetheart, how was the ride? Was Jake driving too fast again? You should tell me if he does, I’ll scold him,” she fussed, her expression filled with nothing but warmth.

You blinked, stunned for a moment before shaking your head. “Oh—no, he was fine! I mean, he drove well, not—uh—”

Jake snickered beside you, clearly enjoying this.

His mother waved a dismissive hand, completely ignoring him as she kept her focus on you. “And are you hungry? I had the kitchen prepare a few dishes already, but if there’s anything else you’d like, just let me know. And, oh dear, did he even let you rest before bringing you in? The drive can be tiring—”

You barely had time to process all of her questions before a deep, amused chuckle interrupted.

“Let her breathe, love,” Jake’s father said as he finally stood up, making his way toward you. Unlike his wife’s warmth, his presence was more composed, his steps slow and steady. But the moment he reached you, he extended his hand.

You hesitated for half a second before shaking it, and then—

“Welcome to the family.”

You had to physically hold back your tears.

The words hit you like a wave, crashing over your already overwhelmed emotions. It felt real. Like you were truly being welcomed into something bigger than yourself.

Jake’s hand, still resting against the small of your back, pressed just a little firmer.

His mother, who hadn’t missed the way your eyes slightly glossed over, let out a soft coo. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re just so happy you’re here.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding as you mustered a small, grateful smile. “Thank you… really.”

Jake’s mom’s gaze then flickered downward, and the second she spotted the neatly wrapped box in her son’s hands, her eyes lit up. “Oh! Jaeyun mentioned you bake.”

Jake groaned playfully. “Mom, don’t embarrass me.”

“Oh, hush, I’m just saying,” she scolded before calling over one of the maids. “Set these aside to be served during lunch.”

You watched, still in slight disbelief, as the maid took the box with careful hands and carried it toward the kitchen.

Jake’s father clapped a firm hand on his son’s shoulder, shaking his head fondly. “You really found a good one, son.”

Jake grinned, nudging you slightly. “Told you they’d love you.”

Before you could even fully process the warmth of their welcome, Jake’s mother looped her arm around yours, gently stealing you away from the entrance.

“Oh, come, darling. Some of the dishes are still being prepared, and I don’t want you standing around hungry.”

Jake and his father trailed closely behind, Jake’s hand instinctively finding the small of your back as his mother led you through the hall and toward the garden.

“I had the staff prepare some cold brew tea for refreshments,” she continued, her voice light and eager. “I hope you don’t mind, Jake mentioned you enjoy lighter drinks rather than coffee?”

Your eyes flickered toward him, and he only smirked in response.

“You told her that?” you mused, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“I tell her everything,” Jake said smoothly.

His mother laughed. “He really does. You should hear how much he talks about you over the phone.”

You felt your cheeks warm at that, but before you could dwell on it, you stepped into the garden, your gaze immediately taking in the picturesque setup.

A beautifully arranged table sat in the middle of the lush greenery, set with delicate porcelain cups, a glass pitcher filled with golden-hued tea, and an assortment of small treats. The garden itself was breathtaking as vibrant flowers lined the stone pathways, and the soft sound of a water fountain trickled in the distance.

You turned to Jake’s mother, eyes wide. “This is beautiful.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you think so! I wanted everything to be perfect for you.” She gestured toward one of the chairs. “Come, sit, sit.”

You settled down, and the second you did, she was already fussing over you, pouring you a glass of tea before placing a small plate of pastries in front of you.

“Now, tell me, dear, how have you been? I hope Jake hasn’t been keeping you too busy.”

You chuckled. “Not at all. If anything, I think I’m the one keeping him busy.”

Jake scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “That’s debatable.”

His mother beamed, clearly delighted by your dynamic. “I love that! It’s good that you keep him on his toes.” She then sighed dreamily, placing her chin in her palm as she looked at you. “You really are lovely. When Jake told me he was finally bringing his mate home, I might have gotten a little too excited.”

Your heart stuttered.

His mate.

Jake stiffened slightly beside you, likely catching your reaction, but his mother simply continued, “I know you two haven’t made anything official yet, and I completely understand the pressure that comes with it. It’s a big decision, and I don’t want you to feel like we’re forcing anything.”

You swallowed, glancing at Jake, who was already looking at you with quiet reassurance.

“I really appreciate that,” you said sincerely. “It means a lot.”

His mother reached out, patting your hand gently. “Sweetheart, we already adore you. You don’t have to prove anything to us.”

Then, with a warm smile, she added, “Oh, and please, call me Mom.”

Your breath hitched slightly at that, your heart squeezing in your chest. You hadn’t expected her to say it so soon, so effortlessly—but the way she looked at you, like she had already welcomed you as part of the family, made your throat tighten.

Jake nudged your knee under the table, as if silently telling you to take it in, to believe it.

You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat and managed a small, touched smile. “Okay… Mom.”

Her face lit up instantly, and before you knew it, she was reaching over to pull you into another gentle hug. Jake’s father chuckled at the sight, shaking his head fondly as he took a sip of his tea.

And just like that, the nervous knot in your stomach completely unraveled.

The dining room was just as elegant as the rest of the house,high ceilings, warm lighting, and a long oak table set with an array of dishes that made your stomach rumble just looking at them.

You were seated next to Jake, and across from you sat his parents, who, to your surprise, had chosen seats closer to the middle rather than the grand ends of the table.

“We like to hear each other talk,” his mother had explained with a wink, pouring you a glass of freshly squeezed juice.

Jake’s father chuckled as he adjusted his napkin. “And by that, she means she likes to talk, and I listen.”

Jake groaned beside you, leaning in to whisper, “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

You held back a laugh, already feeling at ease.

The meal started off light, just casual conversation and the occasional compliments toward the food. But it wasn’t long before the attention turned to Jake, and his mother, much to your delight, wasted no time embarrassing him.

“Oh, (Y/n), has Jaeyun ever told you about the time he used to sleep with his stuffed puppy?” she asked with a knowing smile, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jake, who had just taken a sip of water, nearly choked. “Mom—”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, turning to him with wide eyes. “You had a stuffed puppy?”

His mother nodded eagerly. “Oh yes, he wouldn’t go anywhere without it. He even used to call it ‘Puppy’—such a creative name, right?”

Jake groaned, dropping his head into his hand. “Mom, please.”

His father smirked, finally joining in. “He threw a fit once when we accidentally left it at a hotel during a family vacation. We had to call the staff and ask them to ship it back to us.”

Your jaw dropped as you tried to hold in your laughter. “No way.”

“Mhmm,” his mother confirmed, absolutely delighted. “He wouldn’t sleep properly for three nights until we got it back.”

You turned to Jake, who was sinking further into his seat. “You poor thing,” you teased. “I can’t believe I’m just now hearing about this.”

Jake sighed, taking your hand under the table and squeezing it as if to silently plead for mercy. “You know, I thought today was supposed to be about you meeting my parents, not me getting humiliated.”

His mother waved him off. “Oh, hush, Jaeyun. I need to make sure (Y/n) knows all the important things about you.”

His father hummed in agreement. “Like the time he dressed up as a prince and made Layla his ‘royal steed’ for a whole week.”

Jake groaned. “I was five.”

“And yet,” you giggled, “that’s still adorable.”

Jake sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I thought bringing you here was a good idea.”

You leaned into him, smirking. “Because you love me?”

His ears turned pink, but he played it cool, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a quick kiss to it. “Something like that.”

His mother cooed, clasping her hands together. “Oh, you two are just precious.”

His father smirked. “At least now he has something else to obsess over besides that stuffed puppy.”

Jake groaned again, and you just laughed, squeezing his hand under the table.

The laughter finally settled as the meal continued, but the warmth in the air remained. You were beginning to feel more at home, like you truly belonged here.

“So, (Y/n), you and Jaeyun go to the same academy—we already know that,” his father started, setting his utensils down neatly. “But have you given any thought to what you want to do after graduation?”

You hesitated for a second before giving a small, sheepish smile. “Not entirely. I have a few things I’m interested in, but I know for sure that I’ll be taking over the family business.”

His mother’s eyes lit up with interest. “Oh? That’s wonderful! Your family has quite an empire, don’t they?”

You nodded, swallowing a bite of food. “Yes, we have a few ventures, but our biggest ones are the island resorts and event rentals. Most of our islands are privately owned, but we lease them out for major events like weddings, corporate retreats, sometimes even small festivals.”

Jake’s father let out an impressed hum. “That’s an incredible business. It must take a sharp mind to manage all of that.”

You chuckled softly. “Well, I hope mine is sharp enough when the time comes.”

Jake squeezed your hand under the table. “You’ll be great,” he said confidently, as if it wasn’t even a question.

His mother clapped her hands together. “Oh, speaking of your family, I had the absolute pleasure of meeting your mother at a charity gala last year.”

That caught you off guard. “You did?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! We sat at the same table during dinner, and she was just delightful, so charming and intelligent. We talked about all sorts of things, and honestly, I’ve been meaning to reach out to her again. We should arrange something soon.”

You smiled, amused at how eager she sounded. “I’m sure she’d love that.”

“Wonderful,” she beamed. Then, after a beat, she tilted her head. “And what about hobbies, dear? What do you enjoy doing in your free time?”

“Oh, she bakes,” Jake answered before you could, earning a nudge from you.

His mother’s smile widened. “Oh, I already know that! These cookies are divine.” She motioned to the plate on the side, where the kitchen staff had already set them out. “Anything else?”

You thought for a moment. “I also do some graphic design when I have the time. Mostly for fun, but it’s something I’ve been doing for a while now.”

His father nodded approvingly. “A creative mind as well as a business-oriented one. That’s an excellent balance.”

Jake’s mother suddenly gasped. “Oh! I just had an idea. (Y/N), dear, if you ever want to, I’d love your help in designing invitations for some of our events! I host a few charity functions throughout the year, and I just know you’d create something elegant and fresh.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh, I—I'd love to, actually.”

“Perfect!” she said, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

Jake leaned in, whispering, “See? Told you they’d love you.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but the truth was, he was right. They did love you. And for the first time since arriving, you weren’t just trying to make a good impression, you were simply enjoying their company.

After lunch, you found yourself seated comfortably on the plush sofa in the living room, a massive photo album spread across your lap. Jake’s mom was right beside you, flipping through the pages eagerly, while his dad sat back with his drink, occasionally chiming in with his own commentary.

Jake, on the other hand, was slumped on the armrest beside you, groaning into his palm.

“Oh, look at this one!” His mom pointed excitedly, tapping the glossy page. It was a picture of Jake, probably around four or five years old—wearing the most ridiculous set of oversized sunglasses while attempting to hold an ice cream cone twice the size of his tiny hands. His chubby cheeks were dusted with crumbs, and he had the most determined expression as he tried to keep the ice cream from dripping onto his shirt.

You giggled, covering your mouth. “Oh my god, he was adorable.”

Jake peeked over his fingers, his ears already tinged pink. “Please, no.”

His dad chuckled. “That was at a summer festival. He insisted on getting the biggest ice cream available, and when it started melting all over him, he threw the saddest tantrum I’ve ever seen.”

Jake groaned louder, dragging his hand down his face. “Dad, stop.”

You, however, were having the time of your life. “Wait, wait, what happened next?”

His mom laughed. “Oh, we had to strip him down to just his little shorts right then and there. He was crying about losing the ice cream, so we had to buy him another one, only for him to drop it again.”

Jake sat up suddenly. “Okay! That’s enough. We’re done.”

But his mom had already turned another page. “Oh! This one’s my favorite.”

It was a picture of a younger Jake, maybe ten years old, curled up in a pile of pillows with Layla, his golden retriever, draped across him like a blanket. His hair was a little messy, his face buried in her fur, and his small hands clutched the dog close like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Your heart melted. “That’s so sweet.”

His dad smirked. “He refused to sleep in his bed for weeks after we got Layla. He swore she’d be lonely without him.”

Jake, officially unable to handle more, grabbed the album and shut it dramatically. “That’s it. Nope. We’re done with memory lane.” He stood up and, in one smooth motion, pulled you up with him. “We’re going upstairs.”

You laughed as he practically whisked you away, but before you could fully escape, his mom called out, “I do want grandpups running around someday, Jaeyun, but not too soon!”

Jake choked, nearly missing a step on the staircase.

Your laughter doubled as you clung to his arm. “Oh, I love your mom.”

“She’s insane,” he muttered, ears burning.

As you and Jake made your way up the grand staircase, your hand still wrapped in his, you couldn’t help but notice the wall of framed pictures lining the hallway just above you.

It was a mural of memories; photographs of Jake through different stages of his life, from baby pictures to school achievements, and even candid moments with his family. Some frames held images of his cousins, aunts, and uncles, the warmth of their smiles radiating through the glass.

But what caught your eye the most was the largest frame near the top of the stairs. It was a beautifully preserved photo of his parents when they were young—probably still in high school. His father had his arm around his mother, both of them laughing, completely lost in each other’s presence. There was something so genuine about the picture, something that made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

Right beside it, however, was an empty frame.

You frowned slightly, pausing your steps. “What’s this one for?” You gestured towards the blank space, curiosity lacing your voice.

Jake, who had been leading you up the stairs, followed your gaze before exhaling softly. “That’s for me,” he admitted.

You blinked. “For you?”

He nodded, lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “My parents put this up when I was little. They knew they were meant to be—fated mates, if you want to call it that. So they kept this one empty, saying it’s for when I meet mine.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words settling over you.

Before you could respond, Jake turned to you, his golden eyes searching yours with something unreadable yet undeniably deep. Then, without a word, he tugged you closer by the waist, his warmth seeping through the layers of your coat.

He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

Then, in a voice so soft you barely caught it, he murmured, “I already found mine.”

Your breath hitched.

The pureblooded Alpha pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression unreadable for a split second before it melted into something unmistakably tender. “I don’t need some grand revelation or the universe to tell me. I just… know.”

Your chest tightened, a warmth blooming deep within you.

Jake let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as if amused by himself. “Guess my parents were right to put that frame up, huh?”

You felt your lips part, but no words came out, too caught up in the weight of what he had just said.

As if sensing your inability to respond, he gave your waist a final squeeze and tilted his head toward the hallway. “Come on. Let’s get to my room before my mom finds another way to embarrass me.”

Jake pushed open the door to his room, stepping aside to let you in first. It was big—just as big as yours, but undeniably boyish in its essence. Darker tones complemented the sleek furniture, a mix of modern luxury and personal touches that made it distinctly his.

To the side, another door led to a small office space, likely where he handled council work or studied in peace. His bed was massive, positioned near a set of tall windows that undoubtedly led to a balcony. A walk-in closet sat slightly ajar, revealing neatly arranged clothes, and another door, presumably leading to the bathroom, was slightly open.

But what really caught your attention was the study area near the far wall. Above the desk, a series of framed photographs hung neatly. Some were of his family, others of his friends, and then—

You took a step closer, heart nearly stopping in your chest.

One of them was of you.

It wasn’t just any photo. It was… breathtaking. Almost surreal.

You, asleep at one of the library tables.

It looked professional, almost like a painting. The way your hair draped over your arms, the golden light catching on just the right places. Your lashes looked impossibly long, lips naturally pink, your entire expression soft and peaceful in slumber.

You turned to Jake, wide-eyed. “Where did you get this?”

Jake scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “I took it.”

Your brows furrowed. “You took this?”

“Well,” he chuckled, rubbing his jaw, “I commissioned it.”

Your stomach flipped. “Commissioned?”

He shrugged, stepping beside you to admire the piece as if seeing it for the first time himself. “You just looked… so at peace. I didn’t want to forget it. So I had an artist recreate it.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Jake turned to you then, eyes gentle but serious. “I don’t think I ever told you, but that’s when I really started to notice you.”

Your throat tightened.

“I mean, I knew who you were, obviously. But that day? You were just there, completely unguarded, no pressure, no expectations. Just… you.” He exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “And I couldn’t look away.”

A warmth spread across your chest, blooming up your neck and into your cheeks. You swallowed thickly, fingers twitching at your sides.

Jake grinned at your reaction, nudging you playfully. “Don’t get all shy on me now, omega.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide.

Jake tugged you forward, guiding you toward his bed with a gentle pull. You followed, watching as he sat down at the edge, his head tilting up to look at you. You were standing between his legs now, and before you could say anything, his arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer.

Your breath hitched. His touch was warm, steady, and grounding.

His hands smoothed over the fabric of your skirt, resting on your hips as he tilted his head against your stomach, inhaling deeply.

“You have no idea how crazy you make me feel,” he murmured, voice low but soft, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else but you.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, threading through the soft strands as you smiled down at him. “Oh? That bad, huh?”

Jake chuckled, squeezing your waist. “You have no idea.”

He leaned back slightly, shrugging off his coat before pulling away just enough to pat your arms. You blinked at him, confused for a second, before realizing what he wanted.

You complied, letting him slip your coat off your shoulders, his touch lingering as he neatly set it aside.

But before you could process the tenderness of the moment, Jake suddenly tugged at your hand, pulling you forward until you toppled onto the bed—right on top of him.

A surprised giggle escaped your lips as you landed against his chest, his arms looping around you effortlessly.

Jake grinned, eyes filled with something unbearably fond. “That’s better.”

You shook your head, resting your hands against his chest, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, squeezing you gently. “But you like it.”

Jake shifted beneath you, his arms tightening for a brief moment before he suddenly flipped the both of you onto your sides. A surprised yelp left your lips, but he only chuckled, adjusting so that you were facing each other, bodies comfortably close.

His hand found your waist, thumb tracing slow circles as you stared at him, taking in the soft expression on his face.

"That went well," you murmured, still processing just how warm and welcoming his parents had been. "Your mom is amazing. Your dad too. I didn’t expect them to be so…”

“Loving?” Jake finished for you, lips curling.

You nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I was nervous out of my mind, but they made me feel like—like I belong.”

Jake exhaled a quiet laugh, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing just below your eye. “That’s because you do, omega.”

Your heart swelled.

“I’m just so happy,” you admitted, pressing your cheek further into his touch.

Jake’s eyes softened, and then he shifted, pulling you up slightly so you were leaning against his chest, while he settled back against the headboard. His arms remained wrapped around you, steady, secure.

“I’m just as happy as you,” he murmured. “You really have no idea.”

You smiled, looking up at him. “I think I have some idea.”

Jake chuckled, but then his expression grew distant, thoughtful. His fingers traced slow lines down your spine before he finally spoke again, voice quieter.

“I never really expected to fall in love,” he admitted, gaze fixed somewhere past you. “I thought—maybe someday, when I was older, when I had time for it. But finding you—” he paused, swallowing thickly before continuing. “It’s like everything I thought I wanted before doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I was willing to drop my position on the council,” Jake confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “I still would, if it meant spending more time with you.”

Jake exhaled shakily, his arms tightening around you like he was scared you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. His head dipped, nose brushing against your temple as he breathed you in, like you were his lifeline.

“I was so focused on the idea of it,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “On knowing that someone was out there for me—that someday I’d find them. But you…” He let out a shaky laugh, pressing his lips together. “You were right in front of me all along.”

You stared at him, heart skipping.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your chest ached at his words, the quiet realization that had been eating at him for God knows how long.

Jake swallowed hard, his grip on you never faltering. “And I was too stupid to see it.”

You opened your mouth to say something—anything, but Jake was already shaking his head, his hands coming up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing away the dampness collecting beneath your eyes.

“No, let me say this,” he pleaded, his own eyes glassy. “(Y/n), I love you.”

Your breath hitched.

“I love you,” he repeated, firmer this time, like he needed you to understand just how deeply he meant it. “And I don’t care if it’s too soon or if I’m not supposed to feel this way yet—I do.” His voice cracked, raw, vulnerable. “I love you so much it scares me.”

Tears slipped past your lashes, your vision blurring as you stared at him, at the boy who had somehow, in the midst of everything, become your home.

Jake’s hands trembled against your cheeks as he continued, his own emotions threatening to spill over.

“I would’ve given it all up for you,” he whispered. “Everything I’ve worked for, every expectation set on me—I would’ve thrown it all away if it meant I could be with you. But you…” He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “You didn’t even ask me to. You just wanted me, for who I was, not for what I could give up.”

A sob caught in your throat, and Jake was already pulling you in, pressing your foreheads together as he closed his eyes, his breathing uneven.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a soft cry, shaking your head as your hands found his face, cupping his cheeks.

“Don’t say that,” you choked out.

Jake let out a shaky laugh, his thumbs brushing against your skin. “But it’s true.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands sliding into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands.

“Jaeyun,” you murmured.

His breath stilled.

“I love you too.”

Jake’s eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to say it back. Like he had prepared himself for anything but this.

And then, within seconds, he was kissing you.

Jake kissed you like he had been holding it in for years, like the weight of every suppressed emotion had finally come crashing down all at once. His hands cradled your face with the utmost care, fingers trembling as they traced the curve of your jaw, the line of your cheek, as if memorizing every inch of you.

A quiet, broken sound left his throat as he angled his head, pulling you impossibly closer, like he wanted to drown in you. His lips were warm, desperate yet gentle, moving against yours with a devotion so raw it made your chest ache.

And God, you kissed him back just as fervently.

Your hands moved to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging ever so slightly. Jake groaned against your lips, his arms wrapping around you fully, pulling you flush against him, as if he needed to feel every part of you pressed against him to truly believe this moment wasn’t just a dream.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your foreheads remained pressed together, noses brushing as you both tried to catch your breath.

Jake let out a shaky laugh, one that was thick with emotion, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek. His eyes were still damp, glistening under the soft light filtering through his bedroom.

“I wasn’t ready for that,” he murmured, voice hushed, like he was afraid speaking too loudly would break the moment.

You smiled, just as breathless. “For what?”

“For you to love me back,” he admitted, voice cracking slightly. “I—I wanted it so badly, but I never let myself believe I’d actually have it.”

Your heart clenched at the quiet vulnerability in his words, at the sheer disbelief still lingering in his eyes.

You cupped his face again, your thumbs tracing soothing circles against his skin. “I love you,” you whispered, because you needed him to believe it, to understand that this wasn’t a dream. That you were here, with him, for him.

Jake closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, before exhaling just as shakily. “Say it again.”

You smiled, pressing a feather-light kiss to the corner of his lips.

“I love you, Jaeyun.”

A sound escaped him—somewhere between a laugh and a sob, before he crushed you against him again, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

And you knew, in that moment, that he never would.

The Sim estate was alive.

Warm lights flickered from the chandeliers, and laughter rang from every corner of the room. The party was in full swing, with staff and chefs moving efficiently in the background, setting up the final touches on the decorations.

Your friends were scattered throughout the house, making themselves comfortable as if they lived there—Jungwon and his mate chatting near the dessert table, Heeseung and his mate inspecting the decorations, Sunghoon and his mate laughing over something near the fireplace, while Sunoo and his mate lounged nearby.

And you?

You were losing your mind on the loveseat.

Seated directly across from Jake’s and your parents, you were tense, fingers twisting the hem of your white dress, which by now had lost its crisp perfection from how much you’d been picking at it. Layla sat beside you, her large brown eyes flicking between you and your phone, sensing the waves of stress rolling off you in thick waves.

Sunoo’s mate plopped down next to you, barely settling in before your voice rang out.

“What do you mean the cake isn’t there yet?! It was supposed to arrive thirty minutes ago—where is it now?”

The entire room paused.

It was so rare for you to raise your voice that even the staff subtly slowed their movements. Ni-ki, who had been mid-sip of his drink, turned his head so fast it was a miracle he didn’t spill it. Jungwon’s mate blinked, exchanging looks with Sunghoon’s mate, while Heeseung’s mate raised a brow.

Sunoo, who had been lazily scrolling through his phone nearby, leaned over and whispered to Jungwon’s mate. “I think this is the most stressed I’ve ever seen her.”

Jungwon’s mate hummed in agreement. “Jake has no idea how much effort she’s putting into this.”

Across from you, Jake’s and your parents continued their conversation, though it was clear that Jake’s mother was watching you with amusement.

“It would be lovely to have both our families vacation together soon,” Jake’s father was saying, voice casual yet certain. “Somewhere quiet, maybe. A private resort.”

Your mother hummed in agreement. “That does sound nice. We’ve been meaning to take a break.”

Jake’s mother nodded excitedly. “Oh, absolutely! I was thinking something like—”

You barely caught the rest because your phone buzzed again.

This time, it was a message from Jay.

Jay [6:42 PM]: Yo, we’re on the way home. He’s driving. We were at the F1 event. Got him distracted, don’t worry.

Jay [6:43 PM]: Be there in like 15 minutes.

Fifteen. Minutes.

Your grip on your phone tightened. The cake still wasn’t here.

Just as panic was about to set in again, your phone vibrated with another message.

Staff [6:44 PM]: Cake is here, Miss.

Your head snapped up. The front doors opened, and two staff members walked in—one carefully holding an enormous white cake box.

The sheer relief that flooded through you had you sagging back into the loveseat, a breathy “Finally.” escaping your lips.

Sunoo’s mate patted your back, and Layla let out a soft woof, sensing the tension in your body ease.

As the staff carried the box toward you, your eyes widened at the massive size of it. It was beautifully crafted, the logo of the upscale bakery gleaming in gold on the top, and while it looked heavy, the way they handled it told you it wasn’t too much for you to carry.

You quickly stood up—so fast that Layla let out a surprised yelp, and rushed over to them.

Carefully, you placed your hands on the sides of the box, testing the weight before taking it into your arms. It was large, but the weight was manageable, and you cradled it as if it was a fragile piece of art—which, honestly, it was.

Jake’s mother, watching your intense concentration, let out a fond laugh.

“Everything alright now, sweetheart?” she called out, voice warm.

You turned, exhaling deeply before finally smiling. “Yes, everything’s good now.”

Jake’s dad chuckled. “You put so much effort into this. He’s a lucky boy.”

You glanced down at the cake, warmth blooming in your chest.

Jake had no idea what was waiting for him.

And honestly? It was going to be perfect.

The moment you carefully lifted the cake out of the box with your mother and Jake’s mother helping you steady it, you heard the familiar hum of a car pulling up outside.

Your stomach flipped, your heartbeat quickening as the entire room stilled for half a second before suddenly—

Chaos.

Everyone rushed to get into place. The staff quickly stepped back, making way for the group as they hurriedly gathered in the living room. Sunghoon, moving with sharp reflexes, snatched a lighter off the nearby console table and flicked it on.

“Keep it steady,” he murmured as he leaned over, the warm glow of the flame flickering against his face before he lit the candle sitting atop the cake. The moment the soft golden light illuminated the surface, he gave you a small, satisfied nod before stepping back.

Jake and Jay’s voices were getting closer.

“I should be spending time with (Y/n) and my family, man.” His voice was muffled at first, but as he and Jay neared the end of the hallway, it became clearer, the weight of guilt unmistakable. “I feel like a complete douche for leaving her today. I mean, I get that you wanted to take me somewhere cool, but I feel like an idiot for just—disappearing like that.”

Jay, walking beside him, nodded his head towards the living room entrance, not saying a word.

Jake kept going.

“I swear, she’s probably stressed out. She’s been planning everything so carefully, and here I am, leaving her to handle it all while I went off with you to some F1 event. God, I’m such a—”

The doors opened.

The staff stepped aside.

And the moment Jake rounded the corner, he was greeted by everyone.

His entire family.

His closest friends.

And you, standing right in the center, holding a perfectly crafted birthday cake, the candlelight glowing softly against your face.

A soft gasp left his lips as his entire body froze. His eyes swept over the room, from his parents standing by the couch, his friends scattered around with varying expressions of grins and amusement, the staff standing by with knowing smiles.

Then, his gaze landed on you.

His expression melted.

Pure shock and awe crossed his face, his lips parting slightly as he took you in—the way you were holding the cake so carefully, the way your dress had wrinkles from how much you had been fussing over everything, the way the warm glow of the candle made you look even more radiant than he thought was possible.

Jay, watching Jake turn into a complete goner, simply smirked, patting him on the shoulder.

“Surprise, birthday boy.”

Jake didn’t move. He barely blinked.

And then, as if the reality of the moment finally hit him, his eyes softened.

Jake barely had time to process what was happening before his body moved on instinct, surging forward, arms reaching for you, heart pounding in his chest.

But just as he was about to pull you into his arms, you swiftly lifted the cake up, holding it just out of reach.

Laughter erupted from everyone around you.

Jake froze mid-step, blinking at you in disbelief before a fond, exasperated smile stretched across his lips. His hands, once desperate to embrace you, found their place on your waist instead, thumbs absentmindedly tracing soft circles against the fabric of your dress.

“Make a wish first, birthday boy.”

A groan slipped past his lips, head tilting back dramatically as he let out a playful sigh. For a second, he just stood there, shaking his head at you, but the warmth in his gaze stayed.

He exhaled deeply, his grip on you tightening slightly before he leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut.

And in that moment, with the sound of laughter filling the air, the warmth of your presence in front of him, and the love of his family and friends surrounding him, he only had one wish in mind.

‘I get to spend the rest of my life with you.’

Jake opened his eyes, gaze locking onto yours one last time before he blew out the candle.

Before he could even react, Sunghoon smoothly stepped forward, grabbing the cake out of your hands with ease, as if he had been waiting for the perfect moment to do so.

Jake barely had time to process it because the second your hands were free, he finally pulled you in

His arms wrapped around you in an instant, lifting you slightly off the floor as he spun you around once, twice, before pressing you firmly against his chest. His heartbeat pounded against yours, fast and steady, so completely full.

A breathless chuckle left his lips as he set you back down, but he didn’t let go.

Instead, his forehead dropped to yours, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as he took you in, the warmth of your touch, the scent of honey and seawater lingering on your skin, the way your hands clung onto the fabric of his suit like you never wanted to let go either.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmured, voice soft, almost vulnerable. “Jay was being pushy and—”

“You mean Jay, the person who was part of this entire thing?” you interrupted, amusement dancing in your tone.

Jake froze.

Slowly, he pulled back, brows furrowing as his head turned toward Jay, who stood across the room, smug as ever.

Jake’s jaw dropped.

His eyes darted from Jay, back to you, back to Jay.

And then, without missing a beat, he lifted his hand behind his back and flipped him off.

Laughter exploded in the room, the sound ringing loud and free, wrapping around the space like a comforting embrace.

Jay only grinned, completely unbothered, and threw an arm over Jungwon’s shoulder, nodding to himself proudly.

Jake sighed, dramatic as ever, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to you. The moment his gaze met yours, his entire expression softened, eyes melting into something so utterly full of love, so devastatingly tender.

“You really planned all this?”

Your smile mirrored his, just as warm, just as full. “Of course.”

Jake exhaled deeply, and then, before you could react, he was pulling you into another hug—tighter, closer, more real than before.

The night had settled deep into the sky, stars stretching far and endless above, but neither you nor Jake had the time to appreciate it.

The estate was still alive with chatter, laughter spilling through the grand halls as family members, distant relatives, and business associates roamed about, indulging in conversation, drinks, and whatever lingering slices of cake were left from earlier.

Jake had barely had a second to himself.

And neither had you.

Everywhere you turned, someone was pulling the two of you into conversation—family, distant relatives, business associates, people you had never even met before, all eager to talk, to ask, to pry.

“So, you two,” a well-dressed woman mused, swirling her wine in thought. “Not official yet?”

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could even get a word out, she continued.

“I mean, come on.” She smiled, knowingly. “The way Jake looks at you? You’d think he’s already planning the wedding.”

Jake tensed beside you. Not out of discomfort, but because she wasn’t exactly wrong.

He was sure about you.

So sure that the thought of settling down wasn’t a question of if but when.

You could feel the way his fingers twitched at his side, like he was holding himself back from pulling you closer.

“We’re still in school,” you said smoothly, keeping your voice light. “That’s the focus for now.”

“Ah, but surely you’ve thought about it,” an older gentleman chimed in, a glass of bourbon in hand. “Jake, one of the most sought-after pureblooded Alphas, practically taken? It’s a bit of a heartbreak for some, isn’t it?”

Jake let out a small chuckle, but his jaw tightened slightly.

“It just feels… right,” he said, his voice softer this time. “Like she was meant to be here all along.”

Your heart stirred, warmth creeping up your neck.

But before you could dwell on it, another question was thrown your way; how you two met, how this story of fate had begun.

The conversation dragged on. And on.

Even though Jake was right there beside you, you could barely talk to him. Barely even breathe.

Then, he saw it.

A way out.

The moment there was even a sliver of silence, his fingers slipped down, locking around your wrist.

You barely had time to react before he tugged you forward, weaving through the crowd with a quiet urgency. His steps were quick, determined, like he had been waiting all night for this chance.

“Jake—”

He didn’t stop. Didn’t answer. Just kept going.

It wasn’t until the estate doors shut behind you, until the cool night air settled against your skin, the muffled noise of the party fading behind the garden walls—that you realized where he was taking you.

A gazebo.

Tucked away in a more private corner of the property, surrounded by hedges and soft-lit lanterns, hidden from the rest of the world.

Jake didn’t stop until you were standing beneath the wooden beams, the soft hum of the night pressing in around you.

And then, finally, he exhaled.

His grip loosened, fingers sliding from your wrist to lace between your own, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

“Finally,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. He breathed in deeply, his chest rising and falling against yours, as if he had been holding his breath all night and only now could let it go.

A quiet chuckle left your lips, your fingers threading through his hair. Smoothing down the strands, grounding him, bringing him back to you.

But the moment your touch grazed his scalp, he moved.

Jake’s hands slid to your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you impossibly closer. And before you could even question it, he dipped his head, pressing his nose against your neck.

Then, he scented you.

His wrist brushed over your skin, tracing from your shoulder to the base of your throat before sliding down your arm. The scent glands on his wrist left a trail, claiming, replacing, erasing.

It was instinctual.

It was possessive.

And it was so very Jake.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your skin as his fingers gripped your waist tighter.

“There were too many people,” he murmured, voice rougher than before. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. “Too many different scents on you.”

He exhaled sharply, nuzzling against your shoulder again.

“I don’t like it.”

You shivered, heart hammering against your ribs.

Jake had always been protective, but this was different.

This wasn’t just about making sure you were safe or pulling you away from overwhelming conversations.

This was his instincts clawing at him, demanding that he remind everyone exactly who you belonged to.

You sighed, tilting your head slightly to give him more access, letting your hands slide up his back.

“All yours, Jake,” you whispered, voice light, teasing.

Jake stilled for a second. Then, he groaned.

His arms wrapped fully around you, caging you in, his body warm, solid, home.

“Don’t say that,” he grumbled, lips pressing against your temple.

You laughed softly, fingers playing with the strands of his hair.

“But it’s true.” Jake sighed, melting into you.

Jake’s arms tightened around you. His breaths were heavier now, measured, controlled—but you could feel the tension in every inch of his body, like a storm barely contained beneath his skin.

He wasn't okay. And for the first time tonight, he wasn't trying to hide it.

His voice was lower when he spoke, strained, edged with frustration.

“Why do they keep questioning me?” His hold on your waist tightened slightly, his fingers pressing against the fabric of your dress. “As if I’m not sure. As if I’m just—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Like I don’t know exactly what I want.”

You said nothing, letting him talk, letting him pour out everything he had kept bottled up all night.

“I’ve had to deal with this for years,” Jake continued, his voice laced with bitterness now. “Being the son of an Alpha. The pressure. The expectations. The constant need to prove that I’m worthy of it. And you know what?” He let out a sharp, humorless chuckle. “Fine. Let them push, let them question me about the business, about the future, about all of it. But not about you.”

His grip on you only grew firmer, as if trying to ground himself in the fact that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere.

“I hate that they think I’d hesitate,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke. “That I’d ever be unsure. Because I’m not. I never have been.”

His frustration simmered in the way he touched you, in the way he buried himself in your scent, in you.

“I hate how they talk about you like you’re some kind of decision I have to make.” His head dipped lower, his lips ghosting over your skin as he whispered, “You’re not a decision. You’re it. You’re my choice, my only choice.”

Your heart clenched at his words, at the sheer weight of them.

You moved then, your hands sliding up to cup his face, gently tilting his head up so that he could look at you. His eyes burned with something raw, something desperate.

“Jake,” you murmured softly.

His grip on your waist faltered for a second.

“What if we just—” He paused, his voice dropping even lower, rough with frustration, with longing. “I wish we could just be official already.”

You blinked at him.

And then, without thinking, without even questioning it, you said it.

“Okay.”

Jake’s brows furrowed. “What?”

You inhaled, watching the way his eyes searched yours.

“I said okay.” A small smile played at your lips as you brushed a strand of hair from his face. “I accept. You, us. Call it what you want—my mate, my Alpha, my boyfriend. But I’m yours, Jake. And you’re mine.”

Jake stilled. Completely.

For a moment, it was like the entire world had gone silent.

And then, he crumbled.

His lips parted slightly, a sharp exhale escaping as his eyes glistened, the first tear slipping down his cheek before he could stop it.

“You—” His voice cracked, and he let out a small, breathless laugh, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

You wiped away the tear with your thumb, your touch featherlight.

His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you so tightly against him that you felt the way his heart pounded wildly against his ribs.

“Say it again,” he murmured into your skin, his voice trembling. “Please, say it again.”

You smiled softly, leaning down, pressing your forehead against his.

“I’m yours, Jake.”

And this time, his breath hitched.

Jake let out a shaky laugh before burying his face into the crook of your neck, his body trembling slightly as he held you. His hands clutched at the fabric of your dress, as if he still couldn’t believe it, as if he needed to make sure this was real.

And when he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, his next words were barely above a whisper, but they settled into your chest like they belonged there.

“I’m never letting you go.”

And with the way he was holding you, like you were the only thing that had ever truly mattered, you knew he never would.

⤷ read part 1 here !

taglist: @hoonbrry @hime98 @chae-darling @moonchus @peatchiedii @creamkwan @nyfwyeonjun @whoe-dis @woonie-muffin @caelumsjy @90sni-ki @leiomorea @junjungsunwoo @in-somnias-world @notcamii @yizhoutv @lovesickth @elairah @graythecoffeebean @skyearby @ikeumina @blckorchidd @littlebambi-isdee @immelissaaa @jakesfurry @dreamy-carat @cristy-101 @m1kkso @h4niyahcar @firstclassjaylee @skyearby @hello0i

600 notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

You were just Heeseung’s girlfriend’s cousin—quiet, polite, a little too naive for your own good. Then you met his friends. Now you’re in the middle of a spiraling mess of jealousy, bad decisions, emotional whiplash and two boys who treat boundaries like suggestions. Oops.

•minors do not interact

•park sunghoon x afab reader x jake sim

•wc: 33k (i’m so sorry)

•genre: slow burn, darkish? fic, angst, smut

•content tags: SMUT, toxic friendships, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, jealousy, angst, character conflict, questionable decision-making, emotional tension, verbal degradation, crying, physical altercation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, complex feelings, power imbalance, mentions of blood, depictions of anxious behavior, manipulative dynamics, sunghoon speaks in italics, jake has issues, messy people being messy, mentions of enhypen’s heeseung and lesserafim’s yunjin. not proofread.

•a/n: this got a little out of hand. everyone in this is insane and needs therapy (except maybe yunjin). please remember this is fiction and not a guide to healthy relationships. enjoy the chaos.

•nsfw tags below

You don't know why you're still here, the music's too loud, the laughter too sharp and the room too small for how much it feels like it's pressing against you, closing you in. You're not even sure how you ended up here, or why you let Yunjin drag you out when you knew damn well it was going to be one of those nights. She's busy talking to someone else now, lost in the chaos, and you're left to wander, like always.

You clutch your cup tighter, not because you want more to drink but because it's the only thing grounding you. It's plastic, cheap, and it's all that's standing between you and the clamor of this stupid, stupid party. The people around you are so loud, so unapologetically themselves. Everyone's happy, laughing, drinking, talking with their friends, and you? You're just another face in the crowd, a blur, standing on the edge of it all.

There's a group of girls dancing by the window, the kind of girls who laugh too loud, talk too much, their bright colors making it clear they've got more attention than you ever will. You want to look away, but your eyes keep dragging back, following them as if your brain can't help but analyze the way their bodies move, the way they shine so effortlessly. And then, you wonder how they'd look if you were in the center of their circle, taking the place of one of them, laughing, dancing, without a care in the world. You can almost see it, but the picture feels blurry, like it's just out of reach.

Somewhere across the room, you spot a couple making out by the fridge, their hands wandering, the slapping sound of wet lips and muffled giggles piercing through the noise. The guy's hands wander lower, and she pulls him in closer, her body shifting beneath him. It's normal, you think, but the weird feeling in your stomach twists deeper. You've always felt like an outsider in these situations. These people, they know what they're doing, know how to have fun, know how to look and act in the moment. You never really fit in like that.

You glance around again. There's a guy on the couch talking too loudly, probably trying to impress someone with some half-baked story, and another girl, looking over at him like she's interested but not enough to give him her full attention. You catch bits of conversations, fragments, half-formed words and laughing sentences that don't make sense to you. People throwing their heads back and laughing like it's the easiest thing in the world. And you're standing there, holding your cup like it's a shield, too afraid to walk into any of it, too scared to be a part of it.

You sigh, letting your gaze wander to the corner by the stairs, where a few of the guys are hanging out. They're laughing, but their laughter sounds different from the others. Louder, sharper. There was something about observing everyone else that made you feel detached, almost like an outsider. Heeseung, of course, was the life of the party, laughing loudly with friends, always the center of attention. His presence demanded it, naturally. And then there was Sunghoon, looking as composed as ever, standing off to the side with his arms crossed, watching the room with his usual detached gaze.

But what caught your attention most in that moment was Jake. The chaos of the party seemed to swirl around him like he was at the eye of the storm. You caught a glimpse of him near the drinks table, his usual smirk on his face as he chatted with a girl who was all doe-eyed and giggling, the kind of girl who looked like she'd fall for anything he said. He didn't seem bothered by the attention, though.

In fact, he seemed...pleased.

You watched, your heart picking up pace, as he gently guided the girl toward Sunghoon. Jake's hand rested at the small of her back, his smile playful and effortlessly charming as he introduced the girl to Sunghoon. The moment wasn't anything special on the surface, but the way Jake's hand lingered, the way Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable... it sent an unexpected ripple of discomfort through you.

It wasn't just the way Jake stood so confidently, so familiar with the girl, but the way Sunghoon's lips curved upwards—slightly, ever so slightly—into something that resembled a smile. It was the first time you'd seen him genuinely show any hint of warmth toward someone in this room, especially a stranger.

Sunghoon took the girl's hand delicately, raising it to his lips in a soft, almost theatrical gesture, kissing her knuckles with a quiet grace that didn't match the chaos of the party. His gaze flickered briefly to the girl, and then back to Jake. You couldn't hear the words they exchanged, but the scene itself was enough to make your stomach tighten, an odd mix of curiosity and something heavier—something that felt like jealousy, though you quickly pushed that feeling aside.

The girl blushed, her smile sweet as she laughed at something Sunghoon said. You couldn't help but notice how easy it was for her to slip into this world, how effortlessly she fit into the social dynamic that you were still trying to make sense of.

And then your eyes caught Sunghoon's gaze—just for a moment. His eyes met yours across the room, cold and distant, before he blinked and shifted his attention back to the girl in front of him. But it wasn't the usual indifference you were used to; there was something there, something flickering beneath his cool exterior that made your heart skip a beat. But then it was gone, and he was back to his composed self, nodding politely at whatever the girl was saying.

You shook your head, blinking away the strange feeling of being left behind. You had no reason to be affected by any of this, right? You were just... observing. That was all..

You shift your weight, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little too fast. You wonder what he's thinking, or if he's thinking anything at all. He never really pays attention to you. At least, that's how it feels. Sunghoon's the kind of person who sees everything but says nothing. He can be in a room full of people and somehow make you feel like you're invisible. Like it doesn't matter if you're there, or not. But you know better. Deep down, you know he notices. He has to. Why else would you feel like your pulse quickens every time he's near?

You turn your eyes away from the corner and try to focus on something, anything else, but your mind keeps drifting back to them. To him. To the way the whole room feels different when he's around. You wonder if they all see it — the way he stands apart from everyone else, like he's above it all. And you wonder if they notice that you're always the one looking at him, the one too afraid to be noticed, but always noticing him. Your breath hitches slightly as you feel the weight of your own thoughts.

There's a sudden burst of laughter nearby, and someone bumps into you, startling you out of your thoughts. You almost spill your drink, but you catch it just in time. Your hands tremble slightly, and you hate yourself for it, because who the hell gets nervous in a crowded room full of drunk people?

The night is too long. It's too much. It's too overwhelming.

And just when you think you've had enough, just when you're about to leave and find a quiet place to breathe, someone grabs your wrist gently but firmly.

"Hey, are you okay?"

It's Yunjin. Again. Her eyes are softer now, concerned.

You blink up at her, not even realizing you'd been holding your breath. She's got that knowing look on her face, like she can see right through you.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. You're not okay, but what's the point in admitting it?

Yunjin doesn't buy it. "You're not fooling anyone. Loosen up. Let go. It's just a party."

You swallow, then force a smile. "Yeah, just a party."

She gives you one last look before pulling you toward the kitchen, ready to distract you with something, anything to get you out of your head. You follow her, only half-present in the moment, lost in thoughts of someone who probably doesn't even know you exist.

The music is a dull hum in the background as Heeseung finds you and Yunjin. He looks a little too smug, like he's up to something. You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach as his eyes flash between you and Yunjin, and you know exactly what's coming.

"You two," Heeseung grins, "let's go say hi to the boys. They're over by the back corner."

You immediately freeze. No. No way. You'd rather do just about anything else than walk up to that corner of the room. It's always them, always Jake and Sunghoon, always that strange tension that makes everything feel ten times harder than it needs to be.

Yunjin, surprisingly, seems to read the atmosphere instantly. "Heeseung, no. We're good. Let's just—"

But before she can finish, Heeseung's already dragging her along, and of course, that means you have no choice but to follow. You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. You could leave, but that would make you look like a coward. So, you trudge after them, barely registering the shifting in the crowd as Heeseung pulls you both toward the back.

As you approach, you see them. Sunghoon, leaning against the wall like he owns the place, his eyes cold but somehow piercing. He's not looking at you, and the familiar ache in your chest stirs again. And then there's Jake, that infuriating, charming, always-too-confident smile on his face. He's leaning toward Sunghoon, whispering something in his ear, and for a brief moment, Sunghoon's lips curl up into a rare smile—an actual, genuine one. Your heart lurches in your chest, an unfamiliar feeling tightening your throat.

It's the kind of smile you rarely get to see from him. It's like a secret just for Jake, a look of camaraderie you'll never be a part of. It almost feels like you've just been slapped. Why does it bother you so much?

And then, before you can even process the feeling, Heeseung's already talking to them about something you can't hear over the thrum of your heartbeat

Jake, not missing a beat, looks over at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, smiling like he just found his favorite toy unattended. His lips curve into that damn teasing smirk that makes your stomach churn.

"Well, well, well," Jake begins, leaning in a little too close, voice dripping with something far too cocky, "look who finally showed up, Sunghoon's biggest fan" His eyes scan you up and down, like he's not even trying to hide how much he's enjoying seeing you squirm.

You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral, but you know your face is probably betraying you. The red creeping up your neck is only the start of it and like clockwork the memory of that damn day starts playing in your head, that damn art show.

The school art show wasn't your idea of fun, not by a long shot. It was all cliché stuff—overpriced paintings no one understood, weird sculptures that looked like junk, and way too many people pretending to care about the "emerging artists." You hated those events, but Yunjin had dragged you there because Heeseung had convinced her it'd be "fun", at the time you had even wondered if this was what your life would amount to, Yunjin dragging you everywhere Heeseung drags her too, You wanted to be anywhere else that night but there you were, standing in the middle of a sea of pretentious art students, holding a plastic cup of wine that tasted like it was from a box, trying to look like you belonged.

You were trying to blend into the background, holding your drink like a shield. You hated how awkward you always felt around people you didn't know, how out of place you were in spaces like that. But that wasn't the part that had bothered you. No, what hit you hardest was when you saw him.

Sunghoon.

He was standing across the room by a few abstract paintings, his expression as unreadable as ever, hands shoved into the pockets of his blazer, looking as out of place as you felt. You could never fully decipher what was going on in his head, but it didn't stop you from trying. He was stunning, impossibly cool, like he belonged in a different world, not the sweaty, underfunded art gallery that smelled like paint fumes.

You didn't know how long you'd been staring at him until you felt the weight of someone standing beside you. When you glanced over, it was Jake, his usual smirk plastered across his face. He didn't even need to say anything, not really. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he already knew.

"Interesting, huh?" Jake's voice was low, teasing, like he was reading you like a book and you were too obvious for him to care.

Your heart skipped, heat creeping into your cheeks, but you just shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Not really. I'm just looking around."

But Jake wasn't buying it. His gaze flicked over to Sunghoon, then back to you, sharp and calculating. He raised an eyebrow. "Right," he said, his tone dripping with mock amusement. "You sure you're not looking at him?"

Your stomach dropped. The way he said it was casual, too casual, like he was testing the waters, but you felt your pulse quicken. No. This couldn't be happening. You could feel the blood rush to your face, betraying you. The truth was, you were looking at him. It was hard not to. Sunghoon had a way of standing in a room and making everyone else feel irrelevant. But of course, you couldn't admit that to his demon of a best friend, not now, not ever.

You turned away quickly, pretending to focus on some abstract art that was meant to be a painting of a tree but looked more like a tangle of colorful spaghetti. "I wasn't—"

Jake didn't let you finish. He stepped closer, his voice a little too loud, cutting through the low hum of the party. "You know, you're really obvious sometimes."

You froze. The words burned, like they were meant to sting.

"I mean, you're always so quiet around him, so careful not to look at him too much, like you're afraid he'll notice." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "But I noticed. I always notice."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing in your chest. You hadn't realized it was that obvious. Had you really been that transparent? You'd tried so hard to hide it, but it felt like every single moment around him was a magnet that pulled your attention back to Sunghoon, even when you didn't want it to.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you muttered, trying to backpedal, but Jake was already laughing, low and knowing. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying the fact that you couldn't hide from him, not anymore.

"No need to deny it," he'd said, leaning in a little too close, his smirk practically leaking into his words. "It's cute. How you've got it so bad for him. But you're not the only one who notices, you know? And don't even bother you're way too plain for...well, anyone." He nodded in Sunghoon's direction, and your heart froze at the thought of him knowing too.

Before you could even form a response, Jake was already walking off, leaving you standing there, your thoughts spiraling. The rest of the art show blurred into the background as you watched Sunghoon from the corner of your eye. He was talking to a group of people, his expression still cold, his gaze distant. He wasn't even looking at you. Of course he wasn't. You were just another face in the crowd to him.

But for that brief, horrible moment, you felt completely exposed, like your deepest, stupidest secret was laid bare for everyone to see.

Jake had seen it all and made you feel bad for it like you were so wrong for even thinking about Sunghoon. All the thoughts and memories were quickly pushed out by Jake's laughter, his reaction to your stunned expression.

Before you can muster any response, Jake's voice lowers, and he asks, his tone far too casual, "So, did you touch yourself to the thought of him this morning? I mean, come on, it's not like you've been hiding it."

Your stomach drops. The world feels like it slows down as your cheeks burn with the harsh sting of embarrassment. You're about to say something, anything, but Yunjin immediately jumps in.

"Jake, stop," she snaps, her hand on his shoulder, trying to push him away but her voice doesn't hold the sharpness it needs. It sounds more like a half-hearted attempt at deflecting, not like someone who's genuinely defending you.

You can't even look at her, the humiliation swarms you, sinking in deeper as Jake's laugh fills the space between you all. It's mocking but there's something else in it too, something darker and of course, Sunghoon is just standing there, arms crossed, his expression still unreadable. He meets your eyes for a split second and for that brief moment, your chest feels tight, like the air's been sucked out of your lungs.

His gaze is cold, but there's something there. Is it judgment? Disinterest? You can't tell. Before you can make sense of it, he looks away, turning his attention back to the group, like the brief moment never happened. And that feeling—the one you've been trying to avoid all night—surges again. You want to disappear. You want to vanish into the floor, to leave this all behind. To not have to stand here, in front of them, where every word feels like a betrayal of yourself.

"Wow, she's really shy," Jake continues, noticing the red creeping up your neck, "don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Your little secret's safe with me." He says crossing his heart clearly to continue in his mockery of you.

Yunjin steps in front of you, her posture protective, though you can tell she's just as uncomfortable with the way Jake's been pushing. "Jake, seriously. Just, cut it out."

But Jake doesn't listen, of course he doesn't. He's too caught up in the fun of teasing, in watching you squirm under his words. He steps closer to you, leaning in, the space between you shrinking with every breath.

"Tell me, did you think about it when you were alone? How badly you want him, hmm? I bet you've been thinking about it for a while now." His words are so casual, but the intensity behind them has your heart racing, your hands shaking at your sides.

You don't know how to answer. You don't know how to respond without making it worse. The silence stretches too long. You feel the weight of everyone's gaze, even if most of it is on you, the heat of the room pressing in, suffocating you.

And Sunghoon—he just keeps ignoring you. Like he always does. Even now, when Jake is throwing all of this in your face, Sunghoon just looks away. He doesn't speak, doesn't even acknowledge the tension between you all. You're invisible to him, and that hurts more than anything else.

The world suddenly feels smaller. You want to crawl into a hole, to escape from the fire that Jake's started with his words but for some reason you can't. Not yet.

Yunjin doesn't know what to say anymore. The air is thick with the weight of unspoken things, the tension hanging between all of you, and nothing will be the same after this.

You didn't even realize your body had moved you to walk way until you hear Yunjin calling after you but you ignore her, you don't care, you need to leave, her voice fading with every step you take. You don't care about that look of pity Heeseung probably gave you slipped out of their presence, or that anyone else in that damn party even notices your absence. All you can focus on is the frantic pounding of your heart, the feeling of humiliation that's gnawing at your insides, like it's eating you from the inside out.

The cold night air hits your skin like an ice-cold slap, sharp enough to snap you back into some kind of reality, but not enough to stop the sting in your chest. You press your arms tighter around yourself, the thin fabric of your jacket doing little to protect you. The tears you don't want to cry keep falling, though they're dry now, the cold air sucking them away before they can even make it down your face.

You hate Jake.

You hate him so much.

How dare he? How fucking dare he see through you like that, so easily, like you were some pathetic little thing for him to toy with? Like you weren't even a person, just some... joke for him to laugh at, to humiliate. He knew exactly what he was doing when he cornered you like that, when he asked you about Sunghoon like it was the most casual thing in the world. He had to have known how you'd react, how fucking embarrassed you'd be. He had to have known.

And yet, he didn't stop. He didn't care.

Your thoughts spiral, each one more self-loathing than the last, each one making your chest tighten until it's hard to breathe. You should've known this was coming, right? You should've known it would end like this—Jake, smirking, tearing you apart with a couple of words, and Sunghoon... Sunghoon—who just... looked at you. Like you were nothing. Like you were invisible.

You didn't even have the strength to stay at that party. You couldn't even pretend to enjoy yourself. You were suffocating, choking on your own insecurities. Every breath felt heavier than the last, every step you took colder than the one before.

"God, I hate him..." The words slip out before you even realize you're speaking them, your voice shaking. You're not sure if you're talking about Jake or Sunghoon anymore, but in this moment, it feels like the same thing. Like both of them were the reason you were this miserable.

Your pace quickens, though you don't know why. Maybe it's the restlessness, the panic bubbling up in your chest that makes your heart race faster, like you can't get away from the thoughts, from the feelings fast enough. You can feel your chest tightening, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You can almost feel the anxiety creeping in, wrapping around you like chains.

You want to scream, but it gets stuck in your throat. You don't know how much longer you can keep it together, keep pretending like none of this is killing you inside.

The city lights flicker in the distance as you push through the cold, the emptiness of the streets echoing the emptiness in your chest. It feels like you're walking on autopilot, each step taking you further from the party, further from the night that just destroyed everything. It's not until you reach the alley by your apartment building that you stop, your back pressed against the cold brick wall, fighting to get control of yourself.

Breathe. Just breathe.

But even the simple task of breathing feels like too much. Your head is spinning, the world around you feels far away, like you're trapped inside your own head and can't escape.

You press a hand to your forehead, trying to steady yourself, but the dizziness doesn't go away. Everything's too loud. Your thoughts are too loud. Your own heartbeat is too loud.

You can't stop thinking about what Jake said, what he made you feel. And Sunghoon... he didn't even notice. Did he notice? Probably not. He never notices you. You weren't worth noticing.

Tears prick at your eyes again, and you curse under your breath, wiping them away furiously, but they keep coming. How could you be this weak? How could you let them both—Jake and Sunghoon—tear you apart so easily?

It feels like everything is unraveling, like you're losing control of the only thing you had left: yourself. And you want to scream, to punch something, to hit Jake and Sunghoon for making you feel this small.

But instead, you just stand there, on the sidewalk. feeling completely hollow inside, letting the cold air do what it does best—drown out the tears you couldn't stop.

Two weeks, that's how much time had passed since the night of the party, two weeks of you keeping your distance from both Jake and Sunghoon, not that you were ever willingly in their presence anyway—it was easy. You'd stayed firm, avoided every chance to interact with them, despite Yunjin's insistence that you needed to stop being so stubborn. You weren't about to let yourself be subjected to Jake's taunts and Sunghoon's indifference. So, you avoided them. Kept your head down, and kept to yourself.

Whenever Yunjin tried dragging you to Heeseung's apartment or anywhere you knew they would be, you'd fake an excuse, stand your ground, and avoid them like the plague. It had been too humiliating, too hurtful to let them into your space again. Jake's teasing, his knowing smirk when he'd drop hints about Sunghoon, about your obvious feelings—everything about it made your skin crawl. Sunghoon's lack of acknowledgment had only made it worse. You weren't sure what was worse: the way Jake tormented you or the way Sunghoon simply didn't care.

But today was different. Yunjin had made a big deal about a girls' day out. Just you and her, no boys allowed. You weren't sure how she convinced you to go, but you'd relented. You needed a break from everything—the pressure of avoiding people, the stress that kept mounting every time you had to walk past Jake, every time Sunghoon was just there.

So, you got dressed.

A simple dress—nothing too flashy, but it was enough to make you feel good about yourself, for the first time in weeks. The fabric clung just enough to your figure, and you paired it with simple sandals that didn't make you feel like you had to put on some act. It was just you, trying to feel a little more like yourself.

But then, of course, life had other plans.

You met Yunjin at Heeseung's apartment, ready to head out. She'd already slipped into a playful, teasing mood, chatting excitedly about the day ahead. But as you stepped through the door, you froze.

Jake and Sunghoon were sitting in the living room, you think about bolting, making a run for it. Why are they here anyway? Don't they have some super expensive off campus apartment?

You tried to avoid eye contact, hoping they wouldn't notice you, but of course, Jake's eyes were already on you, studying you in that way that made your skin prickle.

"Y/N," Jake drawls, voice warm like honey—if honey were made of gasoline and meant to burn. "You're looking... fuckable today."

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

"What the actual—"

He's already pushing off the couch, making his way toward you like a predator who's just noticed his prey flinching. You take a step back instinctively, fingers gripping your phone like it could protect you.

Jake hums as he circles you. "You got a date? Some sweet campus boy finally grow the balls to ask you out?"

"I'm here for Yunjin," you bite out. "She's just grabbing something." You add, you yourself wondering why you're explaining it to him.

His eyes drag over your figure slowly. "Blue suits you."

You fold your arms over your chest. "Whatever game you're playing—"

But then his hand moves. Quick. Thoughtless.

He flips the hem of your dress up just enough to see the skin of your upper thighs and lets out a low whistle. "Damn, sweetheart. Who's the lucky guy today? Or lemme guess..."

He leans in, breath ghosting your ear, "You wore this for Sunghoon?" Your entire body stiffens and you glance past Jake's shoulder—expecting, maybe, for Sunghoon to roll his eyes, or finally say something to make Jake shut the hell up but he doesn't look at you.

He stays exactly where he is, face blank, eyes still trained on his phone like you don't even exist.

It stings more than it should.

You turn on your heel and head toward the door, heart thudding somewhere between your ribs and your throat

"Jake—" Yunjin started, her voice sharp, defensive, but it wasn't convincing. She didn't sound angry enough. Didn't sound protective enough. "Heeseung! Tell Jake to leave Y/N alone! For fucks sake". She says to her boyfriend but he just looks around like he doesn't want to get involved.

You wanted to disappear. Wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

You looked at Sunghoon again, hoping for a flicker of recognition, maybe even a hint of something. But no. His gaze was trained on something else entirely, indifferent to the scene Jake was creating. He didn't look up at you. Didn't acknowledge you at all.

And then, as if to prove that he'd never been part of this conversation, Sunghoon looked away towards the hallway.

You bit your lip to stop the tears from welling up, your throat tightening. The humiliation was unbearable. You didn't even care about Jake anymore, or what he said. What hurt was the fact that Sunghoon didn't even spare you a second glance.

"Jesus, Yunjin, relax," Jake continued, his voice light but dripping with mockery. "She's just dressed up. Can't blame me for noticing. Not like she's got anyone else to impress."

You wanted to scream. Wanted to say so many things, tell him to fuck off, tell him you weren't anyone's joke but you couldn't. You were stuck in that moment, frozen, watching as he mocked you.

You finally managed to move again, head low, pretending you were above it all, pretending it didn't hurt, but it did.

As you turned to leave, Jake's voice rang out again, as if he hadn't had enough of toying with you. "See you later, baby girl," he called after you, too casually, too easily. You're almost out. One hand's on the handle, back turned because you don't want to give Jake the satisfaction of seeing your face, or how flushed you feel.

But you pause against your better judgment and look back and see Sunghoon lean in to whisper something into Jake's ear his voice is low, soft. You barely hear it, just a whisper, meant only for Jake.

You don't catch the words—but you do catch Jake's reaction. He jerks his head toward Sunghoon, brows lifted in disbelief. "Are you fucking serious?" Jake mutters, like it's something vile. You don't wait to hear more, you're already out the door, the fabric of your dress still settling around your thighs, and your chest feels tight again. Not because of Jake but because you don't know what Sunghoon said.

And it's driving you crazy.

Yunjin is still babbling behind you, but you barely heard her.

You pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart thudding too fast. The burning in your throat was almost unbearable. You didn't even want to go out anymore. You didn't want to do anything. You were sick of feeling this way. Sick of the way Jake had gotten under your skin, sick of the way Sunghoon could make you feel like nothing without even trying.

The day blurred into night, the girls' day with Yunjin more of an exhausting performance than any kind of relief.

You laughed when she laughed, smiled when she took pictures, nodded along when she gushed about Heeseung and the shoes she wanted to buy next. You pretended. Pretended you weren't thinking about the way Jake flipped your dress like you were nothing but an object. Pretended your mind wasn't stuck on the mortifying second you caught Sunghoon not even looking at you.

You had tried.

And for a few moments, it almost worked until you were back alone in your dorm room, peeling the dress off like it was a brand you couldn't scrub off fast enough. The blue fabric lay crumpled at the foot of your bed, a mocking reminder of everything you wanted to forget.

You sat on the floor in front of your bed, knees pulled up to your chest, the textbook you were supposed to be reading long abandoned beside you. The words wouldn't sink in. Your brain was too loud, too crowded with shame. You couldn't stop replaying it, Jake's smirk, Yunjin's half-assed defense that reminded of when you were younger and her mum would make her play with you, Sunghoon's nothingness.

Your phone buzzed beside you. You didn't even think before reaching for it, needing any kind of distraction. It was a message from Jake's private instagram.

smjyn: you should let me fuck you in that blue dress, baby girl.

You stared at the screen, the bile rising in your throat so fast it nearly choked you. For a moment, you couldn't even breathe, then you were typing before you could stop yourself, your fingers moving too fast, too angry.

you: kill yourself.

You hit send, your heart hammering painfully against your ribs, the aftershock making your hands tremble. Jake didn't reply. You wished that was the end of it, you wished the night would just swallow you whole, let you sink into the silence, into the smallness you couldn't seem to shake off lately.

You tried to study. Opened the textbook again, blinked at the words until your eyes blurred. Your phone buzzed, you didn't want to look, every part of you screamed not to. But you did anyway and this time, it wasn't Jake.

It was from Sunghoon.

The username from the account you had endlessly stalked, made your stomach drop, made your fingers clench tighter around your phone. You had never texted before. He had never even looked at you like you existed, the message was short, almost careless.

parksgh: don't let jake get to you. he's just fucking around

You read it once, then again, and again. Your heart was lunging up into your throat, thudding painfully against your ribs. You hated how fast you moved to open it, hated how warm your cheeks got even though you knew better. You didn't know what to say back, you didn't even know if you should say anything back and it didn't even matter because by the time you thought about it long enough, he had already gone silent again.

Like the message itself had been a fluke. A mistake. A momentary lapse in his indifference. You set your phone down face-down on the carpet, your chest rising and falling too fast, your hands refusing to steady. You couldn't even remember what you were supposed to be studying anymore. All you could think about was the way his username looked lit up on your phone screen and how stupid you were for letting it mean something.

Your chest was tight, the weight of everything catching up with you all at once. It wasn't just the text; it was his name on your screen. You didn't know how to feel about it. He barely acknowledged you when you were in the same room, so why was he even texting you now?

You tried to resist but you couldn't help but type back.

you: okay, thank you

It felt like an awkward response, but you didn't know what else to say. It didn't even make sense that you were talking to him, you barely knew him and yet here you were, replying to his message like this was normal. You waited, breath held, for a reply, not sure what you were expecting but certainly not what came next.

parksgh: wyd

Your heart skipped a beat. What? He was asking what you were doing. Wyd?

You hadn't spoken before, he hadn't even looked at you in that way. So why was he reaching out now, like you were old friends? You sat frozen, staring at the words, your mind swirling in confusion.

The little bubble popped up again, a response almost immediately.

parksgh: you good?

Your brain stuttered as you tried to process it. This couldn't be real. Sunghoon—the guy who never said anything to you, the one who had barely looked at you, was texting you and not just some generic message, he was asking about you. You didn't know what to say, so you just typed something simple, something that wouldn't give anything away.

you: yeah, just tired

You waited, heart racing, unsure of what was going on. His responses kept coming. Short, blunt, and entirely unbothered.

parksgh: sounds like it, you been studying?

Another message came through as you were reading that one, making your head spin.

parksgh: you should get some sleep, it's kinda late no?

You didn't even know how to reply. He wasn't a friend, wasn't someone you were close with. Why was he being so... normal with you? But then, his next message made everything stop. A simple question, one that you couldn't even begin to understand.

parksgh: do you actually touch yourself while you think of me?

You froze. The air left your lungs. You couldn't breathe. The panic crept up your throat, your heart pounding violently as though it wanted to escape your chest. The words felt like a slap, hard and painful, as if your body was rejecting the sheer audacity of them. Your thoughts crashed together, the weight of what he was implying sinking in. You felt dizzy, like you were spiraling into something you couldn't control.

You couldn't—you couldn't—tell him the truth. That you had done what Jake had accused you of that night, that he was the star of all your wet dreams so instead you denied. You scrambled to type your response, fingers shaking with the intensity of the emotions clawing at you.

you: no, no i don't. of course not.

You hit send almost too quickly, hoping the denial would settle your racing heart, but the seconds felt like hours as you waited for him to respond. Your hands were trembling, your breath shallow, as you tried to keep the panic at bay.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, there was nothing. You stared at your phone screen, willing the next message to come, but the minutes passed in silence. Your mind raced with confusion, frustration, and a strange, bitter emptiness. You tossed your phone aside, hoping the night would be over soon so you could just sleep and forget about everything, forget about him.

But of course, right when you were about to close your eyes, your phone buzzed. The message was simple, curt, and devastating.

parksgh: liar

You stared at the screen, your pulse still thundering in your ears. The word was a punch to your gut, sharp and cutting, like it was meant to tear something inside of you. You couldn't understand it, couldn't understand him but all you knew in that moment was that you were utterly, completely, lost.

You dropped your phone onto the floor like it burned.

You sat there for a minute, staring at your lap, feeling your face get hot, your chest get tight. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense.

Sunghoon had never said more than a casual hey when you'd bumped into him before. That was it, a polite, distant nod in a crowded hallway, a meaningless word tossed over his shoulder when Heeseung introduced you to the group once, barely even looking at you.

Now, he was accusing you of touching yourself while thinking about him? And calling you a liar when you denied it?

You scrubbed your hands over your face, willing the burning behind your eyes to go away. What the hell was happening?

You weren't close. You weren't even friends. You were just Yunjin's cousin, the quiet tagalong at parties you didn't want to be at, the awkward extra body in rooms you didn't belong in. Not the kind of girl Sunghoon would think twice about as Jake had said to you before. Definitely not the kind of girl Sunghoon would text.

But he had.

You leaned back against the frame of your bed, feeling the cold seeping through the concrete, feeling the ugly knot of confusion and shame twisting in your stomach.

You hated this. You hated the way your heart had raced when you saw his name light up your screen. You hated the way you couldn't even deny it properly, because somewhere, deep down, you had thought about him. Exactly the way Jake always teased but enough that the accusation had knocked the breath out of you and you hated, just hated how badly you wanted another message from him.

You pressed your palm against your chest like you could force your heart to slow down, it didn't help. Nothing helped, you genuinely felt sick.

You weren't the kind of girl this happened to. You didn't even know how to flirt, let alone handle whatever the hell this was. You were good, you were quiet, you kept your head down, you knew your place.

Still, you were sitting here, trembling like some desperate little thing just because Sunghoon, with his pretty face and cold eyes, decided to say a few reckless words to you. You didn't know what he wanted, didn't know if he was serious, if he was playing some fucked-up joke, if he even cared what his words would do to you.

Maybe he was bored, maybe he didn't even think twice about it.

Maybe you were just a stupid, convenient distraction for him. The thought made your throat close up, made the sting behind your eyes sharpen. You climbed up into your bed turning your head into the pillow, biting down on your lip hard, willing yourself not to cry over something so stupid, over a boy who probably didn't even remember texting you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to breathe.

You didn't ask for this. You didn't want this.

You just wanted to go back, before the art show, before the party, before the texts, before your heart learned how it felt to be pulled in two different directions at once.

You just wanted to be invisible again.

You knew should've gone the long way around the finance building, you should've kept your head down, kept walking, kept pretending like the weight of that unanswered text didn't cling to you like a second skin.

Instead you stood there, muttering under your breath about your asshole finance professor, flicking through your notes like you could understand what was in it despite being the one who wrote them all down, your hands curled tight around the notebook, trying to fight the rising frustration buzzing under your skin. The sky was cloudy, the wind sharp against your legs where your skirt ended.

You didn't even notice him at first, not until you glanced up and there he was. Across the street, leaning against the stone wall like he was born there, staring at you.

Blank face, hands in his pockets. Eyes so sharp they cut through the heavy air between you.

You froze, every instinct in your body screamed to run but it was already too late. Sunghoon pushed off the wall, crossed the street without looking, closed the space between you in a few long strides like he had every right to.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't move and hated how your pulse quickened anyway.

He stopped too close. Close enough that you could smell the clean laundry scent of his hoodie. Close enough that you had to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes.

He didn't say anything at first. Just stared down at you like he was trying to figure out what you were made of.

And then, flat voice, barely louder than the wind:

"Why'd you ignore my last text?"

You blinked at him, like he was insane. Like you were insane for being the only one who thought this wasn't normal. You shifted your weight, glanced away, noticing how his body blocked your only exit, of course it did.

You hated how small you felt and you really hated the way his words hung between you, sticky and hot, like you owed him something.

You hated him.

"I didn't know you cared," you said finally, your voice sharper than you meant it to be. You crossed your arms, armor thin and cracking. "Since when do you even talk to me?"

He cocked his head to side, his eyes never leaving your face like he genuinely couldn't understand why you seemed mad. "Oh" He said lowly, "I thought you wanted my attention."

The breath you were holding punched out of your chest, making you take a step back but he followed, slow and lazy, like he had all the time in the world to watch you unravel.

You didn't know what you hated more—how smug he looked or how badly you wanted to grab him by the front of that stupid hoodie and shake him until he made sense.

"I don't," you said, even though it sounded like a lie.

He tilted his head in the other direction, watching you, like you were something pathetic he'd found crumpled on the sidewalk, like you weren't even real.

You swallowed hard, the bitterness burning your throat.

He said nothing, just stood there, letting the silence stretch so taut between you it could slice you open. before you could snap, before you could say something you'd regret, he reached past you, flicked the ends of your sleeves with two fingers like he couldn't help himself.

And maybe you would've stood there forever, frozen in place, if Jake hadn't come strolling around the corner at the absolute worst moment, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, a smug smirk pulling at his mouth like he knew exactly what he was walking in on. He slings an arm around Sunghoon's shoulder like he's crashing a party—his usual stupid grin painted across his face, and an energy so casual it only makes things feel worse.

"Aw, am I interrupting?" he coos, eyes flicking between the two of you. "You look like you're about to cry, baby girl".

Your cheeks flame instantly. "Shut up, Jake."

He just laughs—God, you hate him—and leans in a little too close, voice low but far from discreet.

"Would she let me watch you fuck her, Hoon?" he said, all fake innocence, all ugly laughter, eyes trained on you but directing the question to Sunghoon as if you weren't there and you felt your entire body seize up, blood rushing to your face, stomach flipping painfully like you were about to be sick.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but Jake was already bumping Sunghoon's shoulder, brushing past like this was normal, like this was just what they did.

You didn't even notice the way Sunghoon's mouth twitched, the way something dark and unspoken passed between them, because your brain refused to process it, refused to even consider it.

All you could think about was getting away, getting anywhere that wasn't here, before you embarrassed yourself even more.

You didn't see the way Sunghoon's eyes stayed on you long after you turned and fled.

You didn't know yet what they were really like.

* You should've stayed home, when the smell of opened beer cans hits your nose you realize you should've stayed home, stayed small, stayed out of the fucking way like you'd been doing for the last month, shrinking yourself into something harmless, something invisible, something that Jake and Sunghoon couldn't touch even if they wanted to.

But you didn't, against your better judgement let Yunjin drag you out, wide-eyed and whining about how you were turning boring, how Heeseung promised it would be chill and Jake and Sunghoon would be on their best behavior, how they swore they wouldn't even look at you and you believed it, like an idiot.

Now you're standing here in the middle of some shitty house party, abandoned, holding a lukewarm plastic cup like it's a fucking shield, feeling stupid, feeling trapped. The music is too loud, the floor is sticky under your shoes, someone's laughing way too hard behind you and it feels like the sound is aimed directly at your back.

You look around like maybe you'll see Yunjin and Heeseung, maybe you'll see a way out but they're already gone, already swallowed up by the night, already tearing at each other in some dark corner and you're left with nothing but your own pathetic loneliness.

You hate this, you hate how obvious you must look, you hate how you're gripping your cup so hard it's starting to crumple in your hand and you hate that you thought, even for a second, that you'd be safe here. You really try to suppress it but a part of you starts to build resentment towards your cousin.

You're just about to turn and leave, cut your losses and slip out the door like a coward, when you feel it. That horrible prickle at the back of your neck, the sensation of being watched, heavy and suffocating and familiar in a way that makes your stomach twist.

You already know who it might before you even turn around, only two options come to your mind and you can't even decide which one is worse but of course it's him.It's always him.

Sunghoon stands across the room, half in shadow, arms folded across his chest, head tilted like he's studying you again, not smiling, not frowning, just watching.

You freeze, panic blooming low in your stomach but look away quickly, pretending you didn't see him, pretending you don't care. You take a shaky sip from your cup, trying to check your phone like you have somewhere better to be.

You lie to yourself with every breath you take but it doesn't matter because he's already moving toward you.

Your heartbeat stutters painfully in your chest as he crosses the room, cutting through the crowd like he doesn't even see anyone else, like you're the only thing that matters.

You turn your body slightly, angling away from him, hoping he'll take the hint.

He doesn't.

He stops just in front of you, so close you can smell the clean, sharp scent of his cologne, can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

"Are you avoiding me?," Sunghoon asks voice indifferent like this is just some passing question he doesn't seem to want the answer to.

You swallow hard, throat dry and say nothing, even if you could speak, you don't know what to say. You don't know why he's even talking to you, why he's pretending you exist after ignoring you so effortlessly for so long.

"You look pretty." You blink. "What?" His voice is low, steady and as usual unemotional.

"Your dress is pretty and you look pretty in it, Y/N" He says so matter of factly and it almost sounds like he's telling you the sky is blue and it makes you scoff, turning your body away like maybe that'll help you breathe again. "Please don't start. I'm not doing this tonight." "Doing what?" he asks.

"You know what, Sunghoon. Why don't you and your guard dog just leave me alone?", you grit and instantly you swear you can see his mouth twitch like he's about to smile

He doesn't deny it, doesn't even argue, he takes one slow step forward. "Guard dog? You don't seem so mouthy when he's in front of you though" he almost taunts, clearly referring to how you lock up whenever Jake is close. The comment hits you so hard, you don't even notice you're against the wall now. His hand barely grazing your waist, his voice brushing your ear.

"Do you wanna kiss me?" Your breath hitches because there's no teasing tone in his voice not like the way Jake would say it just to fluster you and make your cheeks flush. He's genuinely asking if you want to kiss him.

Sunghoon says it like he's asking a favor, like he's letting you decide.

"I—no. I mean—" you stammer, heart climbing into your throat. "I don't know what you're doing, but—"His lips brush your jaw and you immediately go quiet, your mind shifting between how this is the closest you've ever been to him and how this is also the longest conversation you've ever had.

You gasp—his hand is suddenly pressing flat against your stomach, holding you in place. "Sunghoon—"

"You don't sound like you want me to stop." You shake your head, eyes wide. "This isn't fair." "I didn't say it was."

His mouth trails lower, his breath is warm and while you're melting he's still expressionless, calm, like nothing about this affects him and maybe that's what finally breaks you.

So when he whispers, "Let me take you home," you're nodding because your body listens faster than your brain can protest.

Sunghoon unlocks his car without looking at you and gets in without waiting. You just followed him, numbly, helplessly, into his car, stomach churning and heart hammering so hard you thought you might be sick.

He drove like he kissed—silent, steady, like none of this meant anything. You sat there in the passenger seat, hands clenched in your lap, trying not to look at him, trying not to think about the way your body was still burning where he touched you, trying not to wonder why he hadn't even smiled once.

He drives in silence, not looking at you once, not when he's merging onto the freeway, not when you're stopped at a red light, not when you pull up to the underground parking lot of his building. He just turns off the engine and gets out.

You sit there for a second, paralyzed, watching his frame walk towards the elevator. Then you force yourself to move, force yourself to follow him inside, force yourself to pretend that this is fine, that you can survive this, that you won't fall apart the second he touches you again.

You don't even know why you do it, you don't know what you're hoping for or what you're trying to prove.

Maybe you just want to feel wanted or to hurt and maybe right now to you, it's the same thing.

The door shuts behind you with a soft click. You half-expect him to push you against it, mouth hungry, hands impatient but instead, Sunghoon walks ahead, tossing his keys on the counter like this is routine, like you've done this a hundred times before.

You stand uselessly at the door, all stiff, unsure, heart climbing your ribs like it's trying to get away from you. He finally turns around, his eyes meet yours for the first time since the party but you can't help but look away, attempting to look around to observe the space

Sunghoon's apartment is exactly how you'd pictured it, it's big, cold and kind of empty. Everything is clean, clean to the point of sterile, all dark hardwood floors and concrete walls, black leather couch, black coffee table, flat screen bolted onto the wall.

No clutter, safe for the pile of PS5 games next to the console and a camera that's charging in the corner. Even the lights are dim, recessed into the ceiling, casting everything in sharp, ugly shadows.

There are no photos or trophies or notes on the fridge. Just space, silence and a daunting kind of emptiness. He doesn't say anything when you walk in or ask if you're okay, he just tugs you by the wrist down a short hallway into what you assume is his bedroom, like you're an obligation he's trying to get out of the way.

The room matches the rest of the apartment—gray walls, dark bedding, no signs of life. A single queen-sized bed in the center, neatly made with black sheets, a dresser, a nightstand and nothing else.

You hover awkwardly by the door, arms wrapped tight around yourself, not knowing what else to do. You want to ask him what you're doing here, or if this means anything to him at all, you want to ask him if you mean anything.

You don't, you don't say a word. He crosses the room in three long strides and crowds you against the wall again, just like he did at the party, pressing his body into yours, slotting his thigh between your legs.

You gasp, hands scrabbling at his chest. He kisses you, rougher this time, hungrier, but still there's that same frustrating emptiness radiating off him, like he's only half there.

It stings and you know it shouldn't but it does. You kiss him back anyway, desperate and clumsy, letting him push you toward the bed. You fall back against the mattress, bouncing once, heart pounding so loud you're sure he can hear it.

He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it aside, then hooks his hands under your thighs and yanks you down to the edge of the bed, manhandling you like you weigh nothing.

You squeak in surprise, trying to suppress the fluttering in your stomach as presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. The touch sends a shudder through you, he doesn't seem to notice or if he does, he doesn't care, he just pushes your dress up higher, baring your thighs, your panties, the flushed vulnerability of you.

You try to press your legs together instinctively, but he's already settling between them, mouth dragging hot and slow along the sensitive skin. Your head drops back against the bed with a helpless whine. It's overwhelming, the weight of him, the heat of him, the way he's so calm while you're falling apart.

He kisses the crease of your thigh, breathes against the damp cotton of your underwear, licks a slow stripe over the center and you jerk, thighs trembling but he doesn't stop, he doesn't even flinch. It's almost clinical, the way he touches you , it's efficient, methodical but his mouth. God, his mouth.

His mouth might be the only part of him that's honest, it is frantic, almost desperate even. Devouring, like he's starving for you, like he's trying to say everything he's never said aloud, everything he can't bring himself to voice.

You fist his sheets, chest heaving, feeling tears sting at your eyes. It feels too good, too much, like you're dying but also floating. You barely register it when he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, baring you completely. You barely register it when he slides a finger through your folds, testing your wetness, humming low in his throat like he's pleased.

You only really come back to yourself when you feel the tip of his finger pressing against your entrance, when your whole body locks up in terror, when you squeeze your eyes shut like you're bracing for impact.

Sunghoon halts. You can feel it, the sudden tension in his body, the way his head lifts, the way he goes still between your legs. You crack your eyes open to find him staring up at you and his brows are drawn together, just slightly. You realize you're shaking and quite clearly crying. "Have you..." he starts, voice rougher than before, almost uncertain before he clears his throat. "Have you done this before?"

You shake your head, violently, squeezing your eyes shut again, humiliated beyond belief. You're so sure this is it, he's going to kick you out, he's going to laugh in your face and tell you he doesn't fuck virgins. So you brace for it and wait for the disgust, the mockery but it doesn't come. Instead, you feel his lips against your knee, soft and featherlight, like an apology he doesn't know how to give.

"Don't cry," he murmurs. Your breath shudders out of you and when your open your eyes, Sunghoon is still kneeling between your legs, still staring at you with that same unreadable expression, but there's something different now, something softer, something almost vulnerable.

He brushes his thumb over your thigh, gentle and you can't even hide your surprise that he doesn't move to get off you or tell you to leave.

He stays, like maybe, just maybe, you're not completely disposable after all. He's there looking at you in a way that has you trembling, gasping for air and blinking tears from your eyes, when he leans in closer, breath ghosting over the slick, swollen heat of you, his mouth brushing your inner thigh as he speaks. "So," he says, low and almost lazy. "What did you do when you touched yourself thinking about me?"

You choke on your own spit and you feel your whole body lock up again, shame burning hotter than your skin. "I— I didn't," you lie, immediately, stupidly. He huffs a laugh against your thigh, the first real sound he's made all night but it's not cruel, not that it's kind either. It's just amused. "Oh?" he murmurs, lips still trailing your inner thighs, "Then why are you shaking like that?"

You squeeze your eyes shut again, trying to disappear but he doesn't let you. He presses a kiss to the very edge of your hipbone, then another, closer and another.

"Tell me," he says, voice slipping lower, rougher. "Tell me what you did." You can't breathe, like the air has been completely stolen from your lungs. You can't lie either, not when he's looking at you like that, like he already knows and he's just waiting for you to admit it.

"I— I just—" you stammer, your voice breaking. "I just rubbed—" you curl in on yourself, mortified, "I rubbed my clit a little, that's all, I swear." You force the words out like a confession, like a sin and Sunghoon? He smiles. For the first time since you've known him, for the first time ever, he smiles at you. It's small, almost imperceptible but it's there and it knocks the air out of your lungs.

Like he's pleased, almost like he's proud of you. "Good girl," he says, and your heart almost explodes. You're still trying to process that, still trying to make sense of the sudden weightlessness in your chest, when he dips his head again, mouth closing over your clit without warning. You cry out, hips bucking up off the bed but he doesn't even flinch, he just pins you down, hands bruising against your thighs, licking you like he's been starving for it, like you're the only thing he's ever wanted and you sob, writhing, overwhelmed.

It's too much but it's not enough, you don't even know anymore.

He doesn't give you a second to breathe, to think, to ask him why he's doing this, what you are to him, why it feels like you're being torn apart and stitched back together all at once.

He just keeps going.

Keeps sucking your clit into his mouth, keeps teasing your entrance with the tip of his finger.

When he finally pulls his mouth off you, you're keening, fists twisting in the sheets, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. He lifts his head to look at you, face flushed, mouth slick, and mutters, almost to himself that you barely hear him over the roaring in your ears. "Need to get you ready."

You sob again when you feel him nudge a finger at your entrance. "Please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for. "Please slow down, I—" He cuts you off by tapping your thigh, light but firm. "Tap my shoulder if you want me to stop," he says, flat and emotionless, like he's just reminding you of the rules he never even told you in the first place.

Then he pushes inside, you gasp, a very raw, broken sound, as your walls clench instinctively around him. He groans low in his throat, but otherwise shows no reaction, like it's nothing, like you're nothing. You clutch at the sheets, tears burning your eyes again, but you don't tap out. You don't stop him, you can't because it's not like you want to anyway.

He works his finger in and out of you slowly, methodically, never looking up, never checking your face. You try to catch your breath, to calm down, to not cry harder but fail.

And Sunghoon doesn't stop, he just keeps going—steady and unflinching, like you're a problem he's determined to solve, like your pain and or pleasure isn't even real to him, like you're something he already owns but somehow, somehow, it still feels like the best thing anyone's ever given you.

He's relentless, barely even gives you a second to breathe, to think, to feel anything but the stretch of him working you open, one finger at first, slow and steady, ignoring every soft sob that falls from your lips.

You feel like you're drowning. The bed is too big, the room too cold, the walls are grey, the sheets are dark, the only light coming from the dim bedside lamp casting long shadows across the plain white walls, like he doesn't feel anything and maybe he doesn't and you're the idiot for expecting him to.

You dig your fingers into the sheets tighter, squeezing your eyes shut, trying not to sob out loud again. Trying not to embarrass yourself even more. Then you feel it, the slow, deliberate curl of his finger inside you.

You hiccup, chest spasming with another silent cry. Sunghoon clicks his tongue, sharp and soft at the same time. "Stop crying," he mutters, not looking up from between your thighs, it's almost bored, almost annoyed but there's something under it too, something you can't name.

You sniffle pitifully, nodding even though he's not looking at you, even though you don't think you could stop even if you tried. Then he shifts again, sliding his mouth back over your clit, and the heat of it makes you jolt. You mewl helplessly, high and broken, when he sucks harshly at the sensitive bud.

"Gonna add another," he mutters against you, voice low and unaffected, like he's just narrating, like you're not trembling beneath him. You barely have time to brace yourself before he's pushing a second finger inside. The burn is sharp, almost unbearable, and your whole body arches off the bed involuntarily, you're gasping, panting, trying to wriggle away from the overwhelming sensation, but he just presses your hips down, holding you in place like it's nothing.

You whimper, the sound muffled against your fist when you shove it into your mouth to stop yourself from making more noise. You don't even realize you're babbling until you hear your own voice cracking through the air, "Sunghoon, Sunghoon—"

You're not even thinking, you're just saying his name like a prayer, like it might save you. For a second, he stills, before softly, curiously, he murmurs, "Yeah?" and it's he thinks you're trying to talk to him, like he doesn't even realize it's just moaning.

Your whole face burns hotter, your body trembling harder, you shake your head frantically, tears dripping onto the pillow.

You don't know what you're saying anymore, you don't know anything at all, except for him, his mouth, his fingers, the way he's filling you, the way he's making your body light up in ways you've never known it could.

He curls his fingers again, deeper this time, deliberate and suddenly you see stars behind your eyelids. You cry out, bucking your hips up against his mouth, sobbing out another desperate, broken whimper of his name.

And he gets it then, you can feel it in the way his mouth curves into a smirk against you, the way he presses in deeper, harder, finding that spot again, hitting it relentlessly until you're gasping, twitching, clenching around his fingers so hard it hurts. Your whole body's on fire and you're so close you can't even think. He's still so calm, so detached, like he's just...studying you, watching you fall apart with that same unreadable look on his face.

You don't even realize you're crying again until he lifts his head, looking up at you with a frown. "You're so sensitive," he says, almost wonderingly. "You gonna cum already?" You shake your head, sobbing harder, even as your hips grind desperately against his fingers. He huffs a soft laugh under his breath, not mocking, just...satisfied.

And then when he's lowering his mouth again, sucking harshly on your clit while his fingers fuck into you deep and slow. You don't stand a chance, you come undone with a wrecked cry, shattering under him, your whole body locking up and then convulsing, thighs trembling uncontrollably.

He doesn't stop or even slow down. He works you through it, fingers deep, mouth unrelenting, until you're gasping, shaking, tears flooding down your cheeks from the overstimulation and only then—only then, does he finally pull back.

You feel so empty when he does, you almost sob again, he sits back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand — looking completely unaffected while you lay there ruined, shaking, broken on his bed.

You cover your face with your hands, humiliated, you don't even know what you're crying about anymore. The pain? The pleasure? The way it all feels so impossibly hollow when he's looking at you like that?like he's still a thousand miles away even when he's inside you.

"Don't cry," he says again, voice almost too soft to be real but he doesn't reach for you, doesn't comfort you or say anything else.

He just sits there, watching and waiting like he doesn't know what to do with you now that he's broken you but then you feel him lift off the bed and you hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing.

You're alone now and you don't know how long you lay there, body trembling, cheeks sticky with tears drying into itchy trails down your skin. Minutes pass, maybe even hours cause it feels endless.

The room is too quiet without him, so quiet you can hear your own heartbeat, your own ragged breathing. The ache between your legs hasn't faded. It throbs there, humiliating and hot, like a bruise you can't stop pressing on. You stare up at the ceiling. You wonder if this is it, if he's just going to leave you like this. Used up, humiliated and forgotten.

You try to move, but everything feels too heavy, you feel stupid for thinking it might've meant something different when he touched you and you feel even stupider for still wanting more.

The door opens again, making whole body tenses on instinct. You don't sit up because in reality you can't. You listen to the soft footfalls across the room then the mattress dips beside you.

You flinch, you can't help it then something presses into your arm, you blink and look. It's a water bottle, unopened and cold. You glance up at him, confused, uncertain but he's not looking at you. He's staring blankly at the floor, legs spread casually, one arm draped over his bent knee.

You fumble to unscrew the cap, hands still shaking, and take a small sip, the water almost choking you. The silence is suffocating. You don't know why you're surprised when he breaks it first. When he turns his head just slightly, eyes flickering to you, dark, unreadable and says, almost absent-mindedly,

"You want more?"

Your breath catches and you stare at him, wide-eyed, like you must've heard wrong but then you see his mouth twitch. The tiniest hint of a curios smile, genuine like he really doesn't know the answer.

Your heart stutters painfully as you set the water down on the nightstand with clumsy fingers.

Your throat is dry even though you just drank and you nod.

Barely, a small, scared movement.

He watches you steadily for a moment then he tips his head slightly, like he's trying to get a better look at you. "You sure?" his voice is lower now, rougher but still that same detached calm but something else too, threading underneath.

Something you want so desperately to be real and it makes you nod again, a little firmer this time because don't trust your voice to come out right.

He stares at you a second before moving slowly.

He stands up, shrugging his t-shirt off in one smooth motion, leaving him in shirtless with just his jeans. Your heart hammers against your ribs, panic and anticipation fighting for space in your chest. You watch as he unzips his jeans, pushing them down his hips with a casualness that almost makes you dizzy.

He's already half-hard, think and heavy between his thighs. You realize, distantly, that you're gawking so you quickly jerk your gaze away, cheeks burning.

You hear a soft, breathless chuckle from above you not mean and then he's crawling back onto the bed, over you, caging you in with his body.

You feel so small beneath him like prey. He's looking at you differently now, not in the normal cold and empty way, he's looking at you with hunger now and it makes you shiver.

"You sure?" he asks again, voice barely a murmur this time, lips brushing your temple.

You nod frantically, squeezing your eyes shut. "Say it," he says, tone still maddeningly calm. "Need to hear you." Your voice is a whisper, a plea, a confession. "I want you," you breathe. "I want more."

Something in him finally cracks. You feel it in the way his whole body shifts closer, the way his mouth finds yours in a kiss that's nothing like before. His tongue slides against yours, filthy and slow, and you whimper into his mouth without meaning to.

He kisses you like he wants to consume you as if he needs to and when he pulls back, just barely, his forehead resting against yours, he's panting. For the first time tonight, he doesn't look unreadable, wrecked and hungry. He shifts, reaching between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance — the swollen, aching place between your legs still slick from his mouth.

He rubs the head of his cock against you, slow, deliberate, pulling another pathetic whine from your throat. You feel him smile against your cheek. "You're so wet," he murmurs, nudging your thighs wider with his knees, not even asking, just taking. You feel the blunt head of him pressing against you and it's too much, it's not enough, you can't tell which.

He leans down, mouth brushing your ear. "Tap my shoulder if you want me to stop," he reminds you, voice rougher now. You nod frantically again because you don't want him to stop, you just want everything he's willing to give. Even if it's nothing real or even if it feels you emptier than before.

He doesn't say anything when he pushes in. Doesn't shush you, doesn't kiss you, doesn't tell you it's okay. He kind of just watches, like he's waiting for something, like you're some sort of test he's trying to pass. The stretch is unbearable, sharp and hot and you're scrabbling at his shoulders before he's even halfway in, breathing fast and panicked against his neck.

You hear yourself whispering, wait wait wait wait but he's already slowing, already stopping, his hands bracketing your hips steady and firm like he expected this because he knew you'd break apart underneath him. You feel him breathe against your temple, slow and even. He's still hard, still not fully inside you but he's giving you the space to catch up even if he looks utterly unbothered doing it. "Relax," he says after a beat. "You're making it worse."

You nod frantically against him, squeezing your eyes shut, willing your body to loosen, willing the burn to subside. It takes a minute, maybe longer and he waits like he has all the time in the world.

Not stroking your hair or murmuring sweet things like you imagined the person you'd lose your virginity to would do, none of that. He's just existing above you, warm and solid, until finally you whimper, nodding again, giving him permission to move.

He pushes in slower this time but you still cry out, it's too much, too much, you feel so impossibly full but he hushes you, a soft sound, almost absent-minded, like he's trying to focus. You claw at his shoulders, needing something to hold onto, needing something real while your body stretches and aches around him. You hear him swear under his breath when he bottoms out, low and strained, like he's barely keeping himself together.

He stays there, buried deep, not moving. You don't realize you're crying again until he shifts just enough to catch your face in his hand, tilting your chin up to look at him. "Still with me?" he mutters, thumb brushing your wet cheek almost carelessly. You nod, trembling, wrecked and he gives a low breath of a laugh, amused but not mean. "Good girl," he says, more to himself than to you and it makes your heart seize painfully in your chest.

Good girl.

You cling to it like a lifeline.

He moves then.

Slow at first, dragging out almost all the way before pressing back in and it's overwhelming, the feeling of him inside you, the stretch and slide and pressure so much you can't breathe properly. You can hear the slick, embarrassing sounds your bodies make, can hear the broken little noises spilling from your own mouth. You bury your face in his shoulder, too humiliated to meet his eyes. He fucks you in slow, grinding thrusts, deep and steady, like he's trying to memorize the way you feel wrapped around him.

You're babbling something, you don't even know what, little pleading sounds that don't form real words. You hear him murmur something against your hair, so soft you almost miss it. "Fuck," he mutters. "You're so fucking tight." You whimper at the words, at the ragged sound of his voice, at the way he sounds affected for once, not calm, not detached, but wrecked. He groans low in his throat when you clench around him by accident, and his hips stutter for the first time.

"You're not doing it on purpose, right?" he mutters, almost teasing. "You're just that desperate, huh?" You shake your head frantically, sobbing against his skin, too overwhelmed to even think straight. You hear him laugh again, a breathless, disbelieving sound and then his mouth finds your shoulder, your neck, teeth scraping lightly. Your nails dig into his back, desperate, and he lets you, he lets you cling to him, lets you leave marks on his skin.

At some point, you don't know when, he finds a rhythm that brushes something devastatingly good inside you. Your whole body jerks when he hits it and you cry out, high and sharp.

He stiffens, then slowly, he pulls back and thrusts into that same spot again. Harder and deeper. You keen, the sound raw and broken, he does it again and again. Until you're sobbing into his neck, clinging to him like he's the only thing keeping you alive, you can't seem to stop moaning his name. You don't even realize you're doing it until you feel him smirk against your throat.

"Yeah?" he says, almost amused. "Is that what you like?" You nod frantically, tears leaking out the corners of your eyes. "You're so fucking sensitive," he murmurs, almost admiring. "Didn't even know girls like you existed." You want to ask what he means. You want to ask what kind of girl he thinks you are but you can't speak, you can barely think only feel. It feels too much, too good, too raw. He keeps fucking into that spot, relentless, steady, unforgiving, until you're arching beneath him, your whole body trembling, your voice breaking on desperate cries. You cum with a strangled sob, clenching around him so tight he curses, low and vicious. You shake and shudder, tears spilling hot and fast, still clutching at him like you'll fall apart without him but doesn't stop moving or give you a second to catch your breath. He keeps fucking you through it, slow but deep, grinding against that sensitive place inside you until you're gasping and whimpering and scratching at his back without meaning to.

You can't take it, your whole body feels too raw, too overwhelmed and overstimulated. You tap frantically at his shoulder, voice breaking. "S-Stop— please—"

He stills immediately, breathing hard above you. You feel him pull out slowly, carefully, and you collapse back against the sheets, boneless and trembling. There's a pause and you barely register him looking down at you, at the spots of blood smeared between your thighs, at the stains on his sheets.

He sighs.

"You bled on my bed," he mutters, like it's mildly annoying and it makes you flinch, humiliated, curling in on yourself but then before you can sink too deep into the shame, you feel him brush a hand over your knee. Gentle, almost absent-minded that it makes you blink up at him through tear-blurred eyes. He looks exhausted, disheveled and a little dazed. His thumb traces circles into your skin, not looking at you.

"You did good," he says quietly, almost endearingly. Then, louder, more to himself than to you — he mutters, "First time... fuck."

He leans back on his palms where he's sat at the edge of the bed, dragging a hand through his hair, looking genuinely thrown off for the first time. You don't know what to say, you didn't even know if you should say anything at all so you just lie there, aching and ruined, staring up at the ceiling like maybe you'll wake up and this will all have been some fever dream.

But you don't wake up, because this is real and he's real. Your whole body feels heavy, used up, raw and your thighs are sticky, the sheets beneath you damp and crumpled. The room smells like sweat and sex and something softer, something sweeter—him, you think. Sunghoon moves around the room in that quiet, efficient way he does everything, tugging the blanket up over you, finding the bottle of water from earlier and cracking it open but he doesn't look at you while he works. You think, distantly, stupidly, that he looks more real like this, less like the untouchable version of him you built in your head and more like a boy with messy hair, bitten lips and fingerprints pressed into his hips.

He comes back to the bed, crouches at the edge, and presses the bottle into your hand. You almost drop it cause your fingers are too shaky but he catches it, wrapping his hand around yours until you can hold it steady. "Drink," he says simply. You sip, obedient, trying to focus on how it tastes metallic now that it's lukewarm. You don't realize he's still touching you until you feel his thumb stroking over the inside of your wrist, absent and repetitive, in a way that seems like he doesn't even know he's doing it. He watches you drink, then takes the bottle from you when you're done and tosses it onto the floor with a soft thunk.

There's a weird, heavy silence between you, not uncomfortable, just thick with something you don't have the words for. He shifts back onto the bed, sitting with one knee drawn up, shirt sticking to his chest. He clears his throat once, like he's thinking through what he wants to say. "You want me to drive you home?" he asks eventually, making you blink up at him, throat dry even thought you just had water. You're not sure what you expected him to say, something colder, maybe. Something meaner but his voice is weirdly careful, almost... tentative.

He scratches the back of his neck. "I live with Jake," he mutters, like it's some necessary disclaimer. You realize, a beat too late that it's not about him hiding you. Something in you convinces yourself that this is his own weird way protecting you. From Jake and from the teasing you know would come if Jake figured this out.

It's almost enough to make you cry again but you bite it back, swallowing around the lump in your throat. You're about to shake your head to tell him no, it's fine, you'll call a cab, you don't want to be his problem anymore but then you realize he's now holding you. Somewhere in the middle of everything, somewhere between the water and the words, he'd pulled you against him, tucked you into his side and you didn't even notice.

His arm is around your shoulders, warm and steady. His hand is rubbing slow circles into your bare thigh, not sexual just steady and it knocks the air right out of your lungs. You blink up at him, wide-eyed and wrecked, he catches your stare and raises an eyebrow, that unreadable almost-smirk twitching at his mouth.

"What?" he says, voice rough and low. You shake your head, bury your face into his chest instead, trying to hide the way you're falling apart all over again. Trying to hide how much this, the tiny stupid casual tenderness of it is undoing you faster than anything else tonight.

He keeps holding you, stroking your back now and it's all the gentleness you wanted in the start, It feels so good, you don't realize you've fallen asleep, maybe it was somewhere between his hand tracing slow lines up and down your thigh or when you curled deeper into his chest, hiding from the world outside the four walls of his room.

You don't know but you wake up to the feeling of him shifting, gathering you against him, moving you like you're something breakable. You blink up at him, dazed and disoriented. "C'mon," he murmurs, thumb brushing your cheekbone. "I'm driving you back." The way he says it so definitively has you thinking there was never a version of this story where he didn't

You don't remember getting dressed cause he helps you, pulling your dress down over your hips, smoothing it out like it matters if it's wrinkled now. He doesn't touch you wrong or linger where he shouldn't, he just gets you ready, like you're something he needs to take care of.

The drive back is nothing like the drive to his apartment.

The first time, it had been silent, heavy even, your heart slamming itself against your ribs with every mile closer you got to something inevitable. Now it's quieter, somehow, still tense and thick but not scary. Not when he keeps glancing over at you, real glances this time, not just bored flickers, like he's making sure you're still breathing.

"You okay?" he asks when the stoplight stretches a little too long. His hand settles on your thigh without even thinking, warm, steady, thumb stroking small arcs into your skin. You nod without thinking, too cause you don't trust your voice and his jaw tightens like he doesn't believe you but he doesn't press, he just squeezes your thigh gently, keeping it there, like he needs the contact to stay grounded.

The city blurs by outside the window, neon smears, headlights, the occasional drunken laughter of a group stumbling home from the bars. You stare out at it and try not to think about the fact that his hand hasn't moved and that he's still touching you like it's second nature now.

When he pulls up in front of your building, he cuts the engine without a word and climbs out. Your brain can barely register that you didn't give him an address but yet here you are. You fumble with the door handle and your seatbelt, still half-dazed, but he's already there, opening it for you, offering a hand you don't take because you're too stunned to move. You look up at him and can't help but sense there's something different about him now, something softer around the edges, something raw. "Text me," he says, low and serious, an order. "And..." he hesitates, jaw clenching, like the next part hurts to say. "Don't cry again."

It's almost desperate, almost as if it does something to him, seeing you fall apart. You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. You're standing there on the sidewalk, small and ruined and still half in love with a boy who doesn't even know how much damage he's doing. He watches you for a second longer, waiting, like he's giving you the chance to say no, tell him to fuck off and end whatever this is before it starts but you don't.

You just nod, biting your lip so hard it stings. Without another word, he's backing away, climbing into his car, pulling off into the night with the windows down and the music low and his hand still flexing like he misses the feel of you under his palm.

You don't text him or even think about texting him, you genuinely try not to. You bury your phone under your pillow, your backpack, sometimes even your bed, as if that'll keep the temptation away. As if you're not sitting there, curled up in bed with the covers pulled up over your head, thinking about his hand on your thigh during the drive back. Thinking about the way he opened the door for you like it mattered. Thinking about the way he said don't cry again like it physically hurt him to see it.

It doesn't help, none of it does so much so that you spiral, slow, inevitable all into something heavy and gray and miserable. Yunjin notices immediately, of course she does, she keeps knocking on your door, calling you, threatening to break in if you don't answer her. She even gets Heeseung to come at one point, she probably told him something frantic enough that you have to lie through your teeth and tell them you're just sick or tired or busy.

Anything but the truth.

You don't leave your dorm except for class and even then, you barely make it out the door, trudging across campus like a ghost.

Until, three days later, you drag yourself out to a small cafe off campus, needing a change of scenery, somewhere quiet to pretend you're still a person. You've been there for maybe an hour, laptop open, notes spread ever, highlighter caps scattered across the table then you feel it.

A presence, a shadow falling over your table that makes you look up and there Sunghoon stands, different hoodie, same unreadable face but there's something in his eyes, something sharper, something frustrated, something almost desperate when he says "I told you to text me." You blink at him, heart slamming into your ribs so hard you swear you hear it. He stares down at you for a second longer, shoving his hands into his pockets like he's physically stopping himself from reaching for you.

Then, deadpan, he says "Don't you wanna have sex again?" You just stare at him, absolutely dumbfounded, mouth opening and closing but no words forming. The cafe noise blurs around you and you shove your chair back roughly and stand up, your heart hammering, your hands shaking, your voice raw when you snap at him "I'm tired of being confused."

He blinks, actually looks caught off-guard but you're not finished. "What do you even want, Sunghoon?" You're almost yelling not caring if people are looking cause now you just need to know. You need to stop being this wreck, this ruin, this stupid girl still hoping for softness from someone who only ever gives you pain.

Sunghoon doesn't answer right away, he just looks at you, unmoving like he's thinking or deciding something. And then, so soft you almost don't hear it, he says "You." Your breath catches as your whole body goes rigid. For half a second, half a heartbeat, you believe him, you believe he means it Until he tilts his head slightly, voice dropping, eyes darkening as he adds "In my bed again." It just feels like you've been punched hard and straight through the chest. Your hands tremble at your sides as you stare at him—at this boy you thought you hated, thought you craved, thought you needed and you realize; You don't know him at all.

You're about to walk away, already trying to gather up your things into your bag, you're thinking about how you'll shove past him, out the door, back into the rain-slicked street but then Sunghoon leans in. So close you can feel the heat of him bleeding into you. His voice lowers like something rougher and raspier, like it's been clawing its way out of his throat. "I meant it," he says. "You."

You halt, you hate him, you hate him so much but he's still leaning in, dipping his head down slightly like he's confessing something dark, something private, like he's handing you a piece of him, bloody and raw. "You don't get it," he says, almost whispering now. "Nobody's ever been like that. In my bed." Your heart cracks, the worst part is you believe him, you believe he's telling the truth but there's still that sharp, selfish edge to it, that gleam in his eyes like he's not just confessing, he's coaxing, begging even.

"Let me have you like that again," he says, and his mouth is so close to yours it almost feels like a kiss. It's almost sweet, if not for the way he says it—half desperate, half manipulative, like he thinks those are the words you want to hear and he knows you'll fall for it. Maybe you already have because your body is betraying you, shivering, leaning closer, your fingers curling into fists at your sides so you don't grab him by the hoodie and kiss him first.

You want to hurt him back but all you can do is whisper, broken "You don't even know what you're asking for." Sunghoon just looks at you, silent and still, a flash of something almost like regret in his eyes but it's gone too fast for you to catch it properly. His fingers twitch in his hoodie pocket, like he wants to reach for you and doesn't know if he's allowed.

He hesitates, for the first time, he hesitates, before he speaks again "Let me learn" and it guts you because you're stupid enough to want to believe it. You're stupid enough to want him even when you know better. If you weren't so stupid you would have noted the amount of chances you had to turn away and tell him no but you don't, not when he's helping you pack up your things or guiding you to his car, not when he's pulling you in for desperate kisses at stoplights, you don't say no because the part of you that wants him is bigger and anything else and because you're stupid.

The memory of how you got here is a haze, you remember him frantically pulling off your sweater as soon as you walked in through the door, unlike the first time you were in his apartment and he waited to take you into his room, it's all so frantic, the heat of his mouth on your neck, the way his hands tug at your skirt frustratingly before he's grunting against your mouth like he's telling you to do it and you do, You remember him picking you up off the ground making your legs instinctively wrap around him as he holds you up effortlessly, taking you to his room again and placing you on the bed more gently.

You can't help but notice how his room looks a bit different in the daylight but your thoughts about it are thrown out the window when you feel him pull your panties down your legs and stare at where you're wet for him. His mouth is just devouring as devouring as it was the first time, it's so skillful, it has you arching instantly, grabbing at his hair and bucking your hips up to meet his mouth.

You don't hear the door open or even sense someone is in the room until his voice cuts through the dim air like a blade.

"Well, well. Look at you."

Your eyes fly open to meet Jake's, he's leaning against the wall, jaw clenched, arms crossed, eyes dark but he's not mad. No, he's smiling, slowly and cruelly like watching the punchline of a joke he told hours ago finally land. "Guess I was right about you."

Your hand flies to Sunghoon's shoulder, tapping at him panicked, breathless. "Hoon—Sunghoon—stop. He's here—" But Sunghoon doesn't even glance back. He just coos, soft and low. "It's okay," he murmurs, almost fondly. "Ignore him." Ignore him? Ignore Jake standing there, wolf-eyed and grinning, hands shoved into his pockets like he's about to stay a while.

You try to pull away again, one last desperate wriggle of your hips but Sunghoon is relentless. His mouth finds your clit again, his hands pressing your thighs wide, pinning you open like a butterfly.

Pinned, shivering, exposed and Jake fucking laughs under his breath. "Desperate little thing," he says, almost sweetly. "You like this, huh? Like having an audience?" Your throat closes up and your heart punches against your ribs.

You squeeze your eyes shut humiliated, so humiliated but Sunghoon's tongue doesn't falter, his fingers don't slip. He's focused like you're the only thing in the world, like Jake's presence is meaningless. Maybe it is. Maybe all that matters is the way Sunghoon is pulling these pathetic little sounds out of you, wet, broken and soft.

Jake comes closer because you feel his heat at your side, hear the way he crouches down, mouth grazing your ear when he speaks "Go on, pretty baby," he whispers. "Cum for him." You sob, you can't help it and Sunghoon's tongue just flattens harder, swirling, ruthless.

Jake hums approvingly.

"Yeah, that's it. Cum like a good girl for your beloved Sunghoon." Your whole body snaps tight and you fall apart like he ordered it, helpless, degraded and soaked. You cum hard, gasping, clutching at the sheets, your hips jerking up into Sunghoon's mouth like you're chasing it, like you need it to survive. It's pathetic; it's degrading and it's the best thing you've ever felt. Sunghoon doesn't even slow down through it, just keeps licking, gentle now, coaxing the last little spasms out of you until you're shaking, whimpering, completely broken open.

Jake just watches, smirking.

You don't even realize you're shaking until you try to sit up, your hands are trembling and the sheets are damp under your thighs, your whole body still pulsing from the devastating orgasm Sunghoon wrung out of you like it was nothing.

You don't even have time to gather yourself or to cry or scream or run, before Sunghoon is shifting, sitting back on his heels between your spread thighs. "Let Jake take your top off," he says, all flat and dispassionate like he's asking you to hand him your notebook in class.

Your mouth falls open and you blink at him—once, twice—because surely you didn't hear that right."No," you croak, voice ragged with confusion, shame and heartbreak. "What the fuck—" You glance between them, voice rising. "You guys are fucking weird." You yank at the sheets, trying to cover yourself but Sunghoon doesn't even flinch. Jake that's still smirking devilishly just shifts closer to the bed, looming over you and Sunghoon? God, Sunghoon just tilts his head, looking at you. That same unreadable stare, dark and heavy and burning but this time there's something different there. Something that reaches out and claws at you even as you recoil. Not affection or cruelty, just want, so intense it's borderline unbearable.

Jake's gaze is different, lighter, crueler, like he's seeing you as something to be played with but Sunghoon—Sunghoon is hungry. You feel it crackling in the air, feel it vibrating against your skin and God, you hate yourself, because your body is betraying you again — your head nodding before you even realize it, weak, desperate, aching.

Jake grins, sharp and wolfish—the second you do. "Good girl," he breathes, wasting no time, before you can regret it, his fingers slip under the hem of your flimsy top, tugging it over your head, baring you completely, safe for your bra that he immediately discards and his mouth is on you immediately, hot and slick and brutal.

Sucking at the soft flesh of your tit, biting down just enough to make you whimper. You gasp, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders, not pushing him away or pulling him close either, just clutching him, trying to hold yourself together. It's too much, their hands, their mouths, the heavy stare of Sunghoon's black eyes like he's drinking you in.

You can't catch your breath and Sunghoon's patience wears thinner by the second. You can feel it in the way his hands slide up your thighs, the way he spreads you open again without a word, the way his cock twitches against his thigh as he watches Jake mark you up.

He's done waiting, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, not even bothering to slow down, not even pretending to give you time to adjust. "Move," he mutters to Jake, a single word, sharp-edged. Jake laughs against your skin but he obeys, pulling back just enough for Sunghoon to settle between your thighs. You barely have time to whimper before Sunghoon is there, pressing the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, not cruel but not careful either, sliding in with slow, brutal finality.

You gasp high and broken—your nails digging into the sheets. Jake's mouth finds your ear, murmuring filth. Sunghoon just fucks into you like you're a thing he's owed, stretching you open on his cock and you clench on him, your hips jerking with every punishing thrust, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes and soaking the sheets beneath you. Your head is spinning, your chest heaving, every nerve ending raw and oversensitized.

You think if he fucks you any harder, you'll just shatter apart and you almost want him to. You almost want him to break you completely so you'll stop feeling this ache, this desperate, hollow yearning for something he refuses to give you. Your eyes screw shut, your fingers scrabbling uselessly at the sheets and it's all just white noise.

Until one particularly brutal thrust has your whole body jerking and your eyes fly open on instinct and that's when you see it. Through the blurry haze of your tears, your vision sharpening in short, frantic bursts. You see Sunghoon not just fucking you but kissing Jake, in fact it's not just kissing, it's devouring. Sunghoon's mouth is slanted hard over Jake's, his tongue forcing its way between his lips, messy and aggressive. Jake is grinning into the kiss like he's won, one hand tangled in the back of Sunghoon's hair, the other lazily tweaking his own nipple through his t-shirt, like he's savoring the way Sunghoon is practically fucking his mouth too.

You whimper without meaning to, your body clenching helplessly around Sunghoon's cock at the sight because it's so much, too much even. Sunghoon driving into you, Sunghoon moaning into Jake's mouth, Jake playing with himself, Jake smirking like he knows exactly what this is doing to you and somewhere deep down, even through the pleasure flooding your body, even through the slick obscene noises filling the room, you know now what you hadn't let yourself believe before. That this thing between Jake and Sunghoon—whatever it is—It's more.

They're not just friends, they can't be, not with the way Sunghoon is gripping Jake's jaw, the way he's pulling those filthy little noises out of him like he knows exactly how. Your stomach twists, sick and overwhelmingly turned on. You're so close again, you can feel it, your whole body trembling on the precipice of another orgasm, Sunghoon's thrusts getting sloppier, deeper, his low grunts spilling out of him like he can't even hold them back anymore.

"Jake," Sunghoon suddenly groans all wrecked and desperate "I'm—" Before you can even understand what's happening, Jake is moving, quick and decisive. He shoves Sunghoon back by the hips, pulling his cock out of you with a wet, messy noise that has you gasping at the sudden emptiness. Your legs twitch, your pussy instinctively clenching down around nothing and then you watch, horrified as Jake drops to his knees in front of Sunghoon like it's normal, like it's natural and wraps his lips around Sunghoon's flushed, dripping cock without hesitation.

Sunghoon moans, really moans. Loud, guttural, shameless, the kind of sound he never gave you, the kind of sound you ached to pull out of him. Jake hums smugly around him, looking right at you, his eyes sharp and gleaming with amusement.

Like he's mocking you, almost daring you to say something. To admit how much you wish it were you making Sunghoon fall apart like that. Your breath hitches in your throat, your hands fisting in the ruined sheets, every inch of you burning with humiliation and confusion and sick, aching need.

Sunghoon stands there, looking disheveled and flushed, his skin slick with sweat, the faintest smirk pulling at the corner of his swollen mouth. Jake wipes his lips with the back of his hand but instead of stepping away, instead of giving you a moment to think, he's reaching for you.

His hand tangles in your hair firm and he's dragging you forward, toward him. You don't even resist, too stunned, too broken open already, too ruined by the heavy tension that wraps around the room like a noose and then he's kissing you, messy and wet, so incredibly obscene. You whimper into his mouth when you taste it—Sunghoon's lingering arousal still coating Jake's tongue, thick and salty and wrong. You should pull away, shove him off and spit it out you don't because Jake is holding you there, mouth slanted over yours, his free hand cradling the back of your head so you can't escape the way the taste spreads and soaks into your own tongue and somewhere in the blurred confusion of it all, you realize you're kissing back and obeying when he pulls away and looks at you with those sharp eyes, telling you to swallow.

Your knees buckle, but Jake catches you easily, turning you towards Sunghoon. "You were such a good girl for me," he says under his breath, incongruous with the essence of him still coating your lips. "You'd be even better if you let Jake fuck you too." You glance up at him through a blink, stunned, teetering on the edge of sanity, knowing exactly what you should say.

No. No. No.

But it's like there's a part of your brain wired exclusively for him, for the soft cadence of his voice, the weight of his hand on the curve of your waist, the promise of his approval, so nod weak and trembling, before your mind even finishes forming the thought.

Jake grins, triumphant and he's moving immediately, not wasting a second, grabbing your hips and turning you around like you're just something to be positioned, something to be used. "You're going to let me fuck you? After all that mouthing off? Telling me to kill myself?" he taunts, "What was it she called me again, Hoon? Your guard dog?" he adds, running his hand down your back and pressing down so you're perfectly arched for him.

You can see Sunghoon sitting back against the headboard now, watching you with lazy, half-lidded eyes. Jake's hands are rough as he spreads you open, humming low under his breath when he sees just how wet you still are. It's shameful, the way your body betrays you, throbbing and slick and eager.

"Fuck," Jake mutters, almost to himself, "Sunghoon really did break you in, huh?" You hear Sunghoon laugh, smug but you don't dare lift your head to look at him. You're too busy squeezing your eyes shut, fists curling tight in the sheets, bracing yourself for whatever's about to come.

And when it does come, when Jake finally pushes into you, it's so different, he's not as patient. He's rougher, filling you quick and deep, grunting under his breath when your body clenches down instinctively. "Still so tight," he breathes, reverent, like he can't fucking believe it. You whimper, your arms shaking, your body arching more without your permission, as he starts to move. Long, deep thrusts that make your back curve, your mouth fall open in helpless little gasps and all the while Sunghoon is watching.

In a silent possessive way, you can feel like a brand burning into your skin. You know you're not supposed to want this, you're not supposed to like the way Jake is fucking you, hard and fast and unrelenting while Sunghoon watches like you're putting on a show just for him.

Your body doesn't care, it's already chasing the next brutal, devastating high and Jake aids it, fucking you with sharp, brutal thrusts that knock little gasps and whines from your throat without mercy. Each snap of his hips punches forward into that spot inside you that feels too raw, the overstimulation crackling up your spine like electricity.

It's nothing like how Sunghoon fucked you. Where Sunghoon was calculated, almost teasing in the way he stretched you open, Jake feels like punishment, like he's trying to split you in half just because he can. His pace didn't slow once, not even when Sunghoon shifted closer, not even when the softest brush of lips pressed against your temple like a secret only you were supposed to feel. If anything, it got worse. Harder, deeper, like he was trying to fuck the kiss right off your skin.

And it was so stupid, it was so stupid, because your body betrayed you instantly, muscles clenching down around him so tight you felt it too, the way your walls tried to drag him deeper, how your toes curled and your back bowed like you were desperate for more.

Jake's laugh was low and rough against your ear, all teeth and mean amusement as he tightened his fingers around your waist. "She's fucking clenching. Just 'cause you kissed her," he taunted, and you wanted to say no, wanted to deny it, wanted to pretend you had any dignity left but it was impossible when Sunghoon's mouth was finding the corner of your lips now, slow and tender and unbearably sweet. "You're so pretty"

"Pathetic little thing," Jake cooed, voice dipped in false pity, "Sunghoon calls you pretty and you're already squeezing my cock like it's the first nice thing anyone's ever said to you." You whimpered, pressing your forehead to the mattress, trying to hide from them both, from the unbearable heat prickling under your skin. You could feel Sunghoon smiling against your cheek, soft and secretive, and when you cracked your eyes open, you caught it, that tiny, almost imperceptible look he passed to Jake. The faintest tilt of his mouth. Permission. Encouragement.

"Don't listen to him," Sunghoon murmured anyway, voice as soft as his kisses, pretending like he wasn't the one feeding the fire. His hand stroked lazily down your spine, light enough to make you shiver. "You're pretty. That's all that matters."

Pretty.

You could have cried.

You almost did.

Jake's laugh rumbled against your back as he thrust up into you again, hard enough to have you gasping, scrabbling uselessly at the sheets. "Such a good girl," Jake crooned mockingly, dragging the words out, slow and sticky like syrup. "All pretty and dumb for us."

Sunghoon just kept petting you, like you were something small and helpless. His fingers tracing your spine like he was counting your vertebrae, his mouth ghosting over your skin, and then he was murmuring almost absently, like he was thinking out loud, "So pretty like this. So pretty I almost feel bad."

You didn't even know who he was talking to—you, Jake, himself—it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the way Jake's cock bullied into you without a hint of mercy, and the way Sunghoon looked at you like you were something sacred he was offering up to be ruined.

"Are you gonna fucking cum or what," Sunghoon muttered next, his voice a little rough around the edges, impatient, a glimpse of the colder boy underneath all the tenderness, "You never take this long with the other girls."

Jake barked a short laugh, snapped his hips forward once, hard enough to make you cry out. "Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all, "she's just a little too fucking sweet." You didn't know if he meant the way you tasted, the way you sounded, the way you looked sprawled out for them like you'd forgotten how to say no. Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it.

You couldn't think straight anymore.

You couldn't do anything but clench and sob and ache for them, feel Jake's cock dragging in and out of you, feel Sunghoon's kisses ghosting over your skin, hear their low voices murmuring above you like a prayer and a curse all at once.

You heard it, heard it even through the messy sounds of Jake using you, even through the haze of your own breathless little cries and for a second everything inside you pulled tight.

Other girls.

He said it like it meant nothing. Like it was just some passing detail, a shrug of the shoulders, a fact you should already know but you didn't and in the haze of it all you almost didn't realize Sunghoon wasn't yours, maybe he was Jake's but one thing is sure though; you weren't the first girl they'd done this with.

Your throat worked uselessly, a desperate little sound clawing up before you could stop it and you hated it, hated that they would hear it, hated that it gave you away. "S-Sunghoon"

He turned to you, still petting you absentmindedly but you could feel the slight hesitation in his touch, the way his fingers paused just a little too long at the dip of your spine, as if considering whether he'd gone too far but he didn't apologize, he didn't even look sorry. He just leaned in closer, brushing his lips over your shoulder, whispering sweet nothings into your burning skin like he could stitch up the bleeding hurt with pretty words.

"You're better than them," he murmured, so quiet you almost thought you imagined it. "So much better, baby." You despised how easily you melted for him. Jake thrust particularly deep and you choked on a sob, "Oh my God! J-Jake!", hips jerking helplessly back against him, desperate for any kind of grounding. Your mind was a mess, a riot of shame and pleasure and need and you didn't know how much longer you could hold yourself together, you tongue was already dropping out of your mouth, making you drool.

Above you, Sunghoon just smiled, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was pleased you were breaking because to him it was probably the whole point.

Jake groaned low in his chest when he finished, the sound rattling deep in his throat, but you barely heard it. You were already gone, gone somewhere far inside yourself, where you didn't have to feel the way Sunghoon was murmuring at Jake to "go ahead, finish inside," like it was just another order to be given. Where you didn't have to feel Jake's lazy satisfaction as he spilled inside you, one hand gripping your hip like he owned you, like he had some right to leave pieces of himself inside your body.

It hit you all at once, the whiplash of it, how went from being a virgin a week ago to this, spread out, used, letting boys who barely even liked you do whatever they wanted with you. The shame was so thick it tasted metallic in your mouth. You scrambled, struggling to move, your limbs trembling and slow. Jake was still inside you and you hated it, hated the hot sticky reminder of everything you'd let happen, hated him for still being there like he had every right.

You shoved at him, weak and clumsy but desperate enough that Jake gave a startled grunt and stumbled back, finally slipping free. You barely registered it. You were already trying to crawl off the bed, blind and panicked, desperate to get away before they could see the tears slipping hot and furious down your cheeks but before you could even swing your leg over the edge, Sunghoon's hand closed around your wrist.

Firm that it makes you halt, chest heaving, refusing to look at him, refusing to let him see how broken you were. You tugged weakly against his grip, but it was useless. He didn't say anything at first, just held you there, thumb brushing thoughtlessly against the inside of your wrist, as if soothing you. As if he thought he could soothe this.

You yanked at your wrist, the pathetic sound of your struggle filling the heavy room, Sunghoon didn't even flinch and his grip stayed firm, like he barely noticed how hard you were trying. He just stared at you, something strange and unreadable flickering in his dark eyes, his gazed held confusion, as though he couldn't understand why you were crying.

His gaze dragged over your face, the wetness on your cheeks, the trembling of your mouth, the way you could barely breathe around the panic squeezing your ribs and then he asked it, so casually you almost thought you imagined it.

"Why do you cry all the time?" Asking as if your tears were an inconvenience but it makes something inside you snap. You tore your wrist out of his grip with a violent jerk, your whole body swaying from the force of it, and you backed away so fast you stumbled over yourself. You didn't even care that you were still naked, still aching, still leaking down your thighs.

"I can't believe I did this," you choked out, voice cracking, the words coming in one ugly, messy rush. "You're both fucking weird. I can't believe I let you— I can't believe I—" but before you could finish, Jake's voice cut through the air, lazy and amused, like none of this meant anything to him. "You wanted it," he said, shrugging like it was obvious. "And from the way you were moaning for us? Pretty sure you enjoyed it too."

The shame burned hotter than ever, climbing your throat like bile. You wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing you could disappear into the floor, wishing you had never met them, wishing you could scrub the memory of all of it off your skin. They weren't even trying to comfort you or apologize, they were just standing there, like you were the crazy one for thinking any of this was supposed to mean something more.

You flinched when Sunghoon moved toward you, every part of you braced to be mocked again, humiliated further but instead of laughing at you, instead of pushing you back onto the bed and telling you to take it like before, his hand came up, slow, almost unsure, and wiped the tears off your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. The touch was awkward but gentle in a way that made your throat close up. He didn't know what he was doing, you could feel it in how clumsy he was, as if affection wasn't something he gave often, like he was terrified of getting it wrong.

Before you could form more thoughts, he was leaning in, mouth brushing yours so softly it barely even counted as a kiss, just a warm press, a quiet apology he didn't know how to speak. You made a sound, something broken and desperate in the back of your throat, and he caught it with his mouth, kissing you a little harder. "Don't cry again," he mumbled against your lips.

You squeezed your eyes shut, hating him for making it worse, feeling sorry for yourself for leaning into him without even thinking.

Jake stood a few feet away, still shirtless, still burning from the inside out, arms crossed, watching the whole thing with something close to murder flashing in his eyes. He wasn't smiling anymore, the lazy, taunting smirk was gone, replace with something aimed at Sunghoon like he had just witnessed a betrayal, as though Sunghoon wasn't supposed to kiss you like that, wasn't supposed to wipe your tears or whisper anything that sounded even remotely like he cared.

Jake's jaw clenched, his fingers dug into his biceps, nails biting through the thin fabric of his shirt. It made your stomach twist, that look on his face, the look of boiling anger and ugly jealousy.

Because Sunghoon had never, not once, touched another girl like that and now he was wiping tears off your face like you were some delicate fucking thing worth saving.

Jake's hands curled into fists and stomach twisted. The anger was old, nothing new because it had been sitting in him for a long time—months, maybe.

It started at the party.

The girl, he couldn't even remember her name now but he remembered how she was giggling, clutching his arm, pressing her tits against him like she didn't know he wasn't the one she needed to impress. Jake led her through the crowd anyway, up the stairs, through the half-cracked door where Sunghoon stood against the wall sipping something dark from a cup.

"She's cute, right?" Jake said, grinning, jostling her forward a little. Sunghoon barely even looked at her before he tilted his head, caught her wrist in his hand, brought it up to his mouth and kissed it, all while his eyes were on Jake, while his smile was directed at Jake.

It was mechanical, hollow even and Jake saw it even if no one else did. Sunghoon didn't even want her, he didn't want any of them, not really anyway. He just let Jake bring girls around because it was easier to use them than admit there was nothing either of them actually wanted. It was an arrangement, an easy and disposable arrangement.

Until you, Jake had felt it the day he saw you in Heeseung's apartment, you came over, looking so nervous you could barely meet his eyes. It was supposed to be a joke, flipping up your dress while you were trying to leave. Just to see if you'd cry, just to see if Sunghoon would even bother looking.

He did.

Jake caught it—the way Sunghoon's gaze went dark, sharp, almost hungry. He was the one who leaned over, under his breath, and whispered into Jake's ear. "I want her."

You.

Jake could still feel it, the way those words made something twist in his gut, made his palms itch to hit something. Sunghoon had never said that before. Not once, not even when Jake handpicked the prettiest, most desperate girls at every party but you, standing there like some little doll about to bolt for the door. You, who they hadn't even touched yet, you were the one Sunghoon wanted.

Jake ignored it, or he really tried to. He tried to brush it off, the same way he brushed off the weird sick feeling that climbed up his throat every time you looked shyly at Sunghoon instead of him.

But then the night came. The night Sunghoon was meant to fuck you, Jake was there in his room—had the door cracked open, waiting for Sunghoon to come to him.

It should've been routine, it always was, especially with the shy or naive girls and you were certainly naive, almost borderline oblivious in Jake's opinion. Sunghoon was meant to get you ready and Jake would join later if he felt like it, they'd use you up and that would be that. Instead, Sunghoon slipped out of the room, tight-jawed, tense and cornered Jake by the kitchen sink when he came to get you the water bottle. "She's a virgin," Sunghoon said low, eyes dark and unreadable. "We're not doing this tonight." Jake had laughed because it sounded like he was joking. "What, you scared or something?"

Sunghoon just stared at him. Something ugly, something furious flickering just beneath his skin. "I'm serious," he muttered, voice rough. "I'm not ruining it like this." Like this? Like it mattered?

Jake stood there, watching Sunghoon grab a bottle of water, stall for time, anything to calm down before he went back to you. It burned something inside Jake that he didn't even know he had, not jealousy, not really, it was something worse. Jake wanted to break something. Wanted to break him.

Sunghoon is still holding your waist, like you were his to protect, his fingers pressing deep enough to bruise, yet there's a softness to his grip. He's staring at you like he doesn't understand what's wrong, his eyes searching yours like he can make sense of everything. But he can't. He won't. His breath brushes against your ear as he whispers, "Stay."

It's quiet. Almost too quiet.

Your chest tightens, the words hanging in the air like a weight you can't shake off. You feel the tears welling again, the ache in your throat, the rawness of everything you've just experienced. This wasn't supposed to be you. You weren't supposed to be here.

But you're still here. Still in Sunghoon's room. Still caught between the chaos of two boys who have never looked at you like you were anything other than a game. The thought nearly breaks you, but you keep your head tilted away from Sunghoon's searching gaze, eyes trained on the floor.

That's when Jake's voice cuts through the silence.

"She's not yours, Sunghoon," he sneers, his voice thick with mockery. "She's a free use toy now, remember?"

The words hit harder than anything physical. Sunghoon's face tightens, a flicker of anger flashing across his features for the first time. This is the first time, in all the years of living with Jake, that Sunghoon's ever asked a girl to stay in his room. He never needed to. The others, they always left when the night was over, like it was just part of the script. But with you... he's different. He wants you here. Wants you more than he's willing to admit.

And Jake knows that. He knows it, and he sees the change in Sunghoon, the shift that makes everything spiral out of control.

Sunghoon tenses, his grip on your waist tightening, but it's not to keep you close anymore. It's like a warning, a subtle shift, like he's trying to hold onto something that's slipping through his fingers.

"You don't know shit about her, Jake," Sunghoon spits, voice low, dangerous. But there's a tightness in his chest, the kind that tells you this isn't just about you anymore. This is personal.

Jake laughs, the sound cruel and mocking. "I know enough. You're just fucking delusional, man. She's never gonna be anything but a toy, something to fuck when you need it."

And that's when everything breaks. That's when the jealousy and the anger in Jake's eyes finally win out. He's seething, and there's something darker in him now, something that twists his features into a snarl.

"You think she's different?" Jake's voice rises, thick with bitter disbelief. "You think she's special? She's just a body, Sunghoon. You're no different from me."

Sunghoon doesn't even think. His fist is already flying toward Jake's face before the words are fully out of his mouth.

The sickening crack of Sunghoon's punch echoes through the room. Jake stumbles back, a flash of shock before he's charging again, but this time, Sunghoon's ready. They clash together, their bodies colliding with a force that shakes the room, like they're trying to tear each other apart with their bare hands. You watch, heart pounding in your chest, unable to move.

Jake doesn't care. His gaze is locked on Sunghoon, furious and burning, but there's something else there. Something ugly. It's like he's mad at the whole world. Mad that Sunghoon is breaking the rules, mad that he's treating you differently, and mad that he can't have you like he thought he would.

"You fucking hypocrite," Jake spits, shoving Sunghoon hard enough that he almost knocks you over with him. "You think you're better than me? You fucked her first. You let me fuck her too. Don't act like you're some fucking savior now."

Sunghoon's fist lands again, and this time, the sound of the punch is more brutal, sharper. The room stills for a moment. Everything quiets.

And then Jake stares up at him, blood dripping from him his split lip, his expression twisting into something almost unrecognizable.

"You're not special either, Sunghoon. She'll never choose you."

And that's when the weight of it hits you. Both of them are broken. Both of them have pushed you to this point. But the one you can't seem to tear your eyes away from, the one who's been different with you, is Sunghoon. It's always been him, hasn't it? Even though everything's a mess, even though your mind tells you to run, your body aches for the one who's holding you in place.

But this fight, this ugly confrontation, it feels like the breaking point. Both of them, tearing each other down, just to try and prove something to you. And you don't know how much longer you can stand it.

Jake slammed the apartment door so hard the hallway lights flickered. His chest heaved like he'd run a marathon, every breath sharp and unsteady, and his jaw ached from how tightly he was clenching it. Sunghoon's words were still ringing in his ears. His fists still burned from the impact.

And you? You were still in that room, still with Sunghoon. The echo of it made something cave inside him and he wasn't sure if it was the punch or the shame that hit hardest. It hadn't always been like this.

Two months ago, that was when Heeseung brought you around for the first time. Introduced you casually at a birthday party as his girlfriend's cousin. Jake barely remembered whose birthday it was because the moment he saw you, you eclipsed everything. Not because you were trying to. No, you didn't even speak much that night. Just nodded politely, murmured a hello. It was your eyes that did it—too soft, too open, too easy to read. He saw the way you looked at the floor more than at anyone else, how your hands fidgeted with the strap of your bag.

You didn't belong in their world of sharp words and sharper games and maybe that's exactly why he wanted you. He told himself it wasn't serious, just a passing thing. You were pretty, sure. Innocent too but surely not his type. Except he caught himself watching you, noticing you, even wondering about you but then you had to go and ruin it—by looking at Sunghoon.

He hadn't even looked at you that night, he barely nodded in acknowledgment, said something offhanded to Heeseung about you being "quiet." Sunghoon didn't see you at all but you saw him and Jake saw you.

Staring.

It was in the little glances, the way you perked up just slightly when Sunghoon's voice cut into the room. The way you didn't blink when he walked past, as though you could memorize his silhouette if you tried hard enough. Jake had watched you the whole time, watched you light up for someone who never even looked your way and it made something petty and jealous unravel in him.

He approached you that night of the art show just to tell you, you were too plain for Sunghoon, he said like a warning but it came out more like a challenge. He saw your lips part, saw the brief hurt in your eyes before you turned away.

That was the beginning.

It became a game, or that's what he told himself. Teasing you at parties, mocking the way you watched Sunghoon like he hung the fucking moon. A part of him thought that if he made you feel small enough, you'd stop looking at Sunghoon like that, maybe you'd look at him instead, maybe he could rewrite the script if he could just make you flinch enough to forget what you wanted.

Then one night, after too many drinks, Sunghoon admitted it. "She's cute." Just those two words, offhanded, they barely even meant anything but Jake saw it. The way Sunghoon had been looking at you lately—less like he didn't notice and more like he didn't know what to do with the noticing.

It hit Jake like ice water before Sunghoon even whispered it in his ear that day at Heeseung's apartment, Sunghoon wanted you and you had always wanted him, so where did that leave Jake? He didn't even know who he was jealous of anymore. You, for getting Sunghoon's attention? Sunghoon, for having yours? Or himself—for turning something tender into something so vile?

Maybe that's why he let it happen tonight. Why he hadn't walked away the moment he saw you under Sunghoon like that. Why he'd joined in, touched you like he had any right, kissed you just to claim a piece of something that was never his but none of it made the ache go away, in fact it only made it worse.

"She's not yours, Sunghoon. She's a free use toy now, remember?"

He'd said it because he was furious, he needed to get under Sunghoon's skin because to him it was easier than admitting the truth; he still wanted you and not just your body and not just tonight but when Sunghoon looked at you like that—held your waist, whispered soft things into your skin, kissed your tears away—it gutted Jake.

Sunghoon had never asked a girl to stay, not even once, not even the girls that had way more experience than you and now he was asking you.

Jake punched the wall as he reached the bottom of the apartment stairwell, breathless. His hand split open against the drywall. Still, the pain didn't come close to what was boiling in his chest because the truth was, he never stopped wanting you and now he might've lost you forever along with his best friend.

Back in the apartment, the room still smelled like sweat and anger and something unspoken, thick in the air, clinging to your skin like shame. Sunghoon's touch was gentle this time, he didn't say much as he led you toward the bathroom, one hand lingering low on your back, the other steadying your wrist where his fingers had left slight red marks earlier. You were too quiet to fight him on it, too tired to explain the weight sitting in your chest like wet cloth.

The warm water hit your skin and it felt too good, too soft, like maybe you didn't deserve it. Sunghoon didn't rush. He moved like he'd done this before, washing over you with careful fingers, rubbing suds into your arms, your thighs, behind your ears like he was memorizing the shape of you with every glide. He kissed your shoulder once. Then your temple. Then your mouth. Quick, gentle intervals like he was testing if you'd still let him.

You did.

He didn't speak until he was drying you off, voice low, half-rasped. "Lift your arms." You obeyed. Not because you were weak but because for once, it felt safe to surrender. He slipped a soft shirt over your head, long enough to brush your thighs. It smelled like detergent and cologne and him. You could get drunk off the scent alone. Your legs wobbled as you stepped into clean pair of his shorts and he caught you without a word. He tucked you in like he hadn't just broken you down hours ago. Covered you up to your chin, smoothed the damp strands from your face, lingered a little longer than he meant to. His gaze was unreadable—something suspended between guilt and awe.

"I'll be back," he murmured, like he was worried you'd vanish if he didn't say it aloud.

The sound of the shower running again was the only thing that lulled you close to sleep. You didn't hear him come back in. You just felt the bed dip and the warmth of his body sliding in behind yours, arms looping slow around your waist, chest pressing to your back like he needed to feel you breathing to believe this was real.

He nuzzled against your hair. "Come here," he whispered and he pulled you into him like you belonged there, like he hadn't just chosen you in front of Jake, like maybe he always had.

*•*•*

Jake hadn't been back to the apartment in three days. He'd spent them mostly on Heeseung's couch, pretending to watch TV, pretending he wasn't thinking about you every second he blinked. He didn't say much and Heeseung didn't ask, that was the thing about old friendships—they left space where words couldn't go.

When he came back, the apartment felt the same but emptier, he told himself he wasn't looking for signs of you but the disappointment in his chest when he didn't find any told the truth.

You're gone.

He heard the door to Sunghoon's room click open not long after. He didn't have to turn around to know it was him. They stood in the kitchen like strangers. Jake's knuckles itched with memory, so did his ribs but his voice didn't shake when he finally spoke.

"She left."

Sunghoon didn't deny it. "She needed space."

Jake almost scoffed. "From you too?" Sunghoon looked at him, and there was something devastating in the softness of it. "From the both of us."

A beat passed. Then another.

"You know why you're this angry?" Sunghoon said, his tone level. "It's not because I touched her. It's not even because she let me. It's because you wanted to be the one."

Jake's fists curled before he could stop them.

"I didn't—"

"Yes, you did," Sunghoon cut in, unshaken. "You were just too scared to be anything other than cruel."

Jake's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He couldn't argue—not really. Not when Sunghoon looked at him like he already knew, not when he didn't even have to say it. There was a shift, almost invisible. A flash of something in Jake's eyes, something like grief or longing. It passed too quickly for anyone else to notice but Sunghoon saw it and maybe that's why, as he turned away, he said, "She's at her place."

Jake swallowed. "Why are you telling me?"

Sunghoon didn't answer.

But he didn't need to.

*•*•*

The stairs felt longer than usual or maybe Jake was just nervous regardless of the five days it took him to gather the courage to show up here. His legs didn't feel steady, not when he reached the third floor. Not when he raised a hand to knock on your door. His heart wasn't racing—it was free-falling.

He almost turned around but then the door opened and you were laughing.

It wasn't a sound he'd heard ever, it was soft, light, the kind of thing that came from somewhere safe. You were mid-laugh, leaning slightly into the doorframe, probably reacting to something Yunjin said behind you. Her voice floated out from the living room. Jake barely registered it.

Because then you saw him and everything about you changed. Your smile dropped like glass slipping from a ledge. You didn't say anything but your face said enough, the laughter hadn't just faded, it had recoiled almost like you were scared, like seeing him reopened something you'd tried to bury.

Jake felt it in his chest, low and sudden and still, he didn't speak because how could he? He had no right to be hurt, not after what he did, not after everything he'd been. Still, he stood there, holding his breath, waiting to be let in.

"Can I talk to you?"

Jake's voice was soft even careful like he wasn't sure if he deserved the words he was speaking. Yunjin was at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the doorway with one brow raised, a hand coming instinctively to your elbow. "She doesn't owe you anything," she said, her tone sharp but calm. "So if you're here to play whatever game you were playing before—"

"It's okay," you said, cutting in quietly. Yunjin looked at you, frown deepening. "You sure?" You nodded. "Just give me a minute."

There was something in Jake's eyes, something raw and unguarded and even if your brain was screaming to slam the door, your heart—traitorous and trembling—wanted to know what he had to say.

You stepped out, closing the door gently behind you, and followed him into the empty hallway.

Jake didn't speak right away.

You could see it—the way his throat worked, how his eyes flicked to the floor and then back to you, like he was sorting through a thousand things he could say and none of them felt right.

Then, finally, "I'm sorry."

It was plain, simples and unpolished, it had you blinking. "What?"

"I'm sorry," he said again, firmer this time. "For everything. For how I treated you. For flipping your skirt up in front of everyone. For saying shit that made you feel—less than." His breath caught slightly. "I'm even sorry for fucking you like that. And calling you—"

You cut in before he could finish. "A free use toy?"

He flinched. "Yeah. That."

Your arms crossed over your chest, suddenly cold. "Are you only saying this because you and Sunghoon want to fuck me again?"

Jake's eyes widened. "No. No. God, no. That's not—I'm not—" His words tumbled, frantic. "I'm not here because of that. I'm here because I have to tell you. I have to tell you that I liked you first."

Silence blanketed the hall.

Jake took a breath and stepped closer, gaze never leaving yours. "That day Heeseung introduced you, when he said you were his girlfriend's cousin, Sunghoon didn't even look at you. But I did. I couldn't stop looking at you. You were so—" He stopped himself, jaw tightening. "And then you were looking at him. Always. Like he was everything." His voice cracked on that last word.

You didn't move.

He ran a hand through his hair, voice lower now. "I didn't know how to handle it. I just— I hated that you never looked at me the way you looked at him. And it made me cruel. I know that. I know I was an asshole. But I swear to god I was only ever like that because I didn't know how else to deal with it."

You stared at him, stunned into silence, noticing how his eyes were glassy like he was begging himself not to cry and maybe for the first time, you saw him. Not as the boy who teased you mercilessly, not as the one who touched you like you were nothing but as the one who was unraveling in front of you—afraid, desperate, honest. He huffed out a breath before continuing, "I know you think I'm just awful and that Sunghoon doesn't have feelings but he does and—" "I—I promise I'll be better and he will too, just come over please." "There's so much we want to tell you" he sighed the last part like he was using the last of his energy to say it.

That was the last thing he said before he left you standing there and you don't remember agreeing, not really. It's all a blur—Jake's quiet voice on the stairwell, the look in his eyes like he was begging without asking, the way he said please, the way he mentioned Sunghoon like the words had weight in his throat.

Maybe that's why you're here, maybe it's closure, maybe it's not.

The apartment is quiet when you knock but the second the door opens, you feel a pair arms around you. "You didn't cry again, did you?" Sunghoon's voice murmurs into your hair, soft and close.

You shake your head. No, you didn't, not this time. His scent is familiar, clean soap and something warm underneath. He lingers a second too long before he steps aside and that's when you see him—Jake, standing by the kitchen counter like he's unsure whether to stay or disappear. His expression flickers when your eyes meet, but he doesn't say anything. He just watches, you used to think his stare meant mockery but now it's something else. It's waiting, even hoping.

The silence stretches and you feel like you should say something. Sunghoon glances between you two like he's used to translating tension. "We talked," he says, mostly to you. "Jake wanted to say sorry. Properly this time." You nod because right now it's all you can do.

"Can I...?" Jake's voice trails off. He gestures awkwardly toward the couch, like he's asking for permission just to sit near you. He's never been this quiet before, never this cautious.

He settles beside you with careful space between your knees. The silence isn't comfortable, but it's not hostile either, just dense with everything unspoken.

Jake speaks first, the words low and halting. "I didn't mean for it to happen like that. Any of it. I was—" He stops, jaw tightening. "I guess I didn't know who I was mad at. You. Him. Myself." Sunghoon stays leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the exchange unfold like it's something he can't touch just yet. Jake glances at you. "You don't have to forgive me. I just... I didn't want it to end like that."

The part of you that once trembled under his cruelty now twitches at his vulnerability, you're not sure when that shifted. Somewhere between the teasing, the way he flung ugly words like armor, and the raw admission in his stare now—something changed.

Maybe you did want him, not like before, not in spite of the way he hurt you but because somewhere beneath the mess, something inside him looked like it had been reaching for you all along.

"You're not as mean as you think you are," you say quietly. Jake huffs a breath that sounds like he might cry if he lets it finish and it has you reaching for him rubbing his cheek with your thumb and you're not entirely surprised that he's leaning into your palm.

You don't know who moves first, only that the space closes and his lips are on yours now, frantic and almost clumsy, his hands find your waist and trail up to your back before he's pulling at your hair so your neck is exposed to him. He pulls away and his forehead presses against yours, Sunghoon is behind you again, kneeling on the couch and sliding a hand along your back like he's grounding you in the moment.

"You sure you want this?" Sunghoon murmurs. You nod, barely but he sees it. Jake sees it. The air shifts and you all somehow manage to make it to Sunghoon's bedroom. Their hands are everywhere, their lips too, kissing, biting, marking, Jake's hands are tugging at your clothes like they personally offended him, Sunghoon is kissing you like today is his last day on earth. He pulls off you placing kisses to your cheeks before speaking, "Come on, let Jake show you how sorry he is" he says as back away, you look to Jake and he seems to want it more than you realize. "Okay".

That was all it took for him to pull down the denim of your shorts along with your panties, staring at you between you legs like he was looking at art, "So pretty, so wet for us" he mumbles, placing kisses to your inner thighs. "Don't tease her, Jake. Do as she says", Sunghoon's voice rings through the room and it makes Jake look up at you like he's waiting for your command, the look has your breath stuttering before you say, quietly but firmly, "Eat my pussy".

Jake must have been on voice command because he immediately starts eating you out. You whimper, back arching as he leans in, licking up your folds with a deep moan like he's lost his mind.

"Fuck—Jake—"

His tongue is everywhere—sloppy, relentless, devouring you like you're dessert and he's starving and you're grinding against his face before you can help it, hand in his hair, breathy moans spilling from your lips like a prayer. Your thighs were already trembling but Jake wasn't slowing down, you looked up from his to see Sunghoon smiling down at you and it makes you moan out more, "Oh my god!"

If anything, Jake is more determined now—tongue working your clit with maddening precision, fingers spreading you open so he could taste you deeper, wetter, messier, like he's trying to pull those sounds from you. You tried to push him away—not because you wanted to stop, but because it was too much, too good but Jake just growled low and gripped your hips tighter, dragging you back to his mouth like he'd die without it.

And then, slowly, finally, he pulled back—lips and chin glistening. Your breath hitched at the sight, he looked wrecked. Hair a mess. Eyes dark and blown wide with hunger. "She didn't ask you to stop, did she?" You look up at Sunghoon as he spoke, just now noticing that he's taken his cock out, it's hard, red and leaking as he palms himself while looking right at you.

Jake look at you and then back at Sunghoon and Sunghoon comes up behind him where he is, "Go on baby, tell him what to do. Use him" he says to you but you can't really speak so instead you grab Jake's hair and pull him back where you're aching for them both.

Behind him, Sunghoon watches, calm and in control, one hand fisted in Jake's hair as if to keep him there. The warm flick of his tongue makes you jolt, your hand gripping the sheets. Jake moans into you, desperate, like he's trying to earn your forgiveness with every swirl of his tongue. You almost don't notice Sunghoon has pulled Jake's up on his knees and now has Jake's shorts and boxers down to his knees where they meet the sheets. Sunghoon looks down at Jake where his back is involuntarily arched with lust filled eyes and the sight of him spitting a dollop of saliva right onto Jake's hole has you gasping, "Sunghoon" you gasp out and he looks at you with a smirk, you look down at Jake and notice his eyes rolling back, you can't tell if it's because of how you taste or because of Sunghoon's index and middle fingers that are now pushed into him.

Jake is still trying his best, his tongue is fucking your hole so good you're trembling but then suddenly he's crying out and you see that Sunghoon has pushed his whole length into him at once and it makes Jake choke on a gasp against your pussy.

"You're losing rhythm," Sunghoon murmurs, dragging his hips back before pausing. His voice is low. "Don't you want to show her how sorry you are?"

Jake whimpers, nodding frantically, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" his lips returning to you with renewed effort—tongue trembling, breath shaking. You arch, overwhelmed at the way he's trying so hard for you. For both of you.

And it's working.

Your thighs close around his head, your moans tangling with Jake's soft cries as Sunghoon keeps rocking into him. The way Jake's mouth moves on you—messy, reverent, aching—pulls you closer and closer until you're gasping his name, your fingers tangled in his hair as you finally finish against his tongue.

Jake groans, muffled by your release, clinging to your thighs like they're the only thing keeping him grounded but then he starts moving again—this time, back against Sunghoon. "Fuck," Sunghoon hisses, voice strained as Jake starts to push back harder. "So desperate to be fucked now, huh?"

You slide forward, cupping Jake's flushed face, and he looks up at you with wide, watery eyes. Your thumb brushes away a tear rolling down his cheek. "Pretty boy," you murmur, kissing his cheek, then the other. "You're so pretty like this." The moment your voice breaks through him, his eyes widen, lips parting in a shaky moan, just like Sunghoon once did to you—Jake clenches down hard around him, the shock drawing a ragged groan from Sunghoon. Sunghoon chuckles breathlessly, eyes flashing. "Oh, now that's familiar. You remember that, sweetheart?" he says to you.

You do remember and now it's Jake—whimpering, trembling, taking it. You trail your hand down Jake's trembling stomach and wrap your fingers around his cock, already dripping. He jerks in your hand, keening, hips stuttering as you start stroking him in time with Sunghoon's thrusts.

"Oh, fuck," Jake cries. "Please—please—"

"Look at you," you coo. "Falling apart just like me." "All that anger, you're just a fucking brat huh?" you ask and he shakes his head furiously. "I—I'm not!", you keep stroking him, speeding up your movements.

Sunghoon growls behind Jake, watching your hand work him while Jake chokes on a sob and fucks himself harder on Sunghoon's cock. "K—Kiss" he whimpers, "Aww, you want a kiss baby?" Sunghoon coos but Jake can only respond with incoherent babbles now. You lean down and kiss him but that means you neglect his aching cock, when he pulls away just to moan out, you go back to stroking him.

Jake lets out a wrecked, high-pitched moan, body trembling as you reach between you and wrap your hand around his cock again . He nearly collapses.

"Please—please, I'm gonna—"

You stroke him slowly, watching the way his body bucks into your fist and back onto Sunghoon's cock in perfect rhythm. He's whining, shameless and loud, hips jerking. Every time you squeeze, he moans louder.

Sunghoon grits his teeth. "Good fucking girl," he growls to you, fucking Jake harder. "He's gonna cum just like this—such a fucking mess."

Jake's the first to break. He sobs your name as he spills all over your hand, body curling in on itself. The clenching sends Sunghoon over the edge with a groan, and he pulls Jake close, hips stuttering as he finishes inside him.

And then, silence. Just heaving breaths, sweaty skin, bodies tangled together on the sheets.

Jake collapses against your chest, still gasping, and you stroke his hair without thinking. Sunghoon lays beside him, one arm thrown lazily over his waist.

For a moment, it's quiet.

Then Jake speaks, "You think Heeseung would be mad we fucked his girlfriend's little cousin?"

You blink. "I'm older than Yunjin."

They both whip their heads toward you.

"No fucking way," they say in perfect unison and somehow, that's the moment you realize you're probably not getting rid of either of them anytime soon.

2K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

I CANTTTT WITH HIIIMMM 😩 I JUST CAN'T

NIKI DITCHING YOU FOR HIS GBF!

boyfriend niki x fem!reader

⤷ part 1 | part 2

@millalune !!

310 notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

WTF IS THIS? I CAN'T BELIEVE I READ A 15K WORDS FIC THAT IS PURE SMUT 👁️👄👁️ GOSH

To Be Devoured

𓂃𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

| 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

〻(muse.) park sunghoon

〻(wc.) 15.1k

〻(genre.) vampire au! smut. dark romance.

〻(cont.) fem! reader. description of female anatomy. unprotected sex. making out. soft dom! hoon, but he turns into hard dom! hoon. virginity loss. fingering. cunnilingus. multiple positions. overstimulation. squirting. mentions of cum. mentions of blood. hoonie feeding. basically porn with no plot.

She is already limp under him, but Sunghoon is a man of his world. If his beloved begged to be used, claimed, broken—he's going to deliver.

You lie beneath him, your breath feathering the air between you, shallow and trembling. The room is lit only by the silver wash of moonlight through velvet curtains, painting your skin in soft shadows he traces with his eyes—eyes that have seen centuries pass, but have never lingered like this. Never stayed.

His touch comes slow, deliberate. Fingers that once crushed bone and wielded power like a god now ghost along your waist, reverent. As though he’s afraid to break you. As though you’re made of something more fragile than glass and more precious than anything he’s ever known.

He exhales softly through his nose as his hands travel upward, brushing the dip just beneath your ribs. You flinch slightly, more from the intimacy than surprise, though the coldness of his skin also plays a part. He notices. Of course he does.

“You’re trembling, my love,” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-rich.

Then his hands shift again, climbing higher, until they find your breasts. He cups them with both hands, gently—thumbs brushing over your sensitive peaks, slowly, like he’s learning you by memory. As though this moment could stretch on forever, and it still wouldn’t be long enough for him.

He leans down, lips hovering just over your collarbone. You can feel the coolness of his breath. Hear the restraint in it.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” he whispers, the words sinking into your skin. “It’s so loud… like it’s calling out to me.”

He doesn’t move to take more—not yet. He just holds you, listens, worships with touch alone. His thumbs stroke you, coaxing soft gasps from your lips. You feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach, slow and warm. It’s not overwhelming, not yet. But he’s not rushing.

He’s savoring.

Because tonight, he’s not just going to take your purity. He’s going to earn it—inch by inch, breath by breath.

He doesn’t move up or down, not right away. He just stays, thumbing your nipples with careful strokes until your back begins to arch beneath him, and your breath trembles again, this time from want.

“Patience,” he says, soft but firm, a smile in his voice. “Let me love you slowly.”

His hands slide back down, fingers splaying over your stomach. He traces the soft plane there, dipping into the gentle curve of your navel, brushing featherlight over the sensitive skin just below it. Your hips twitch instinctively, but he hushes you with a press of his lips to your shoulder.

Then he begins to move—lower, but not where you ache. Not yet. His mouth follows the path of his hands, scattering kisses along your ribs, your side, the curve of your waist. His fangs don’t touch you—only his lips, plush and cool, searing heat in their wake.

He shifts, nudging your thighs apart with one knee, settling between them without pressing forward. His palms wrap around the outside of your thighs, slowly sliding down until he’s at your knees.

And then he does something simple—he kisses the inside of your knee.

You hadn’t expected it to feel that intimate. But it did. You felt it high in your chest and low in your belly. That place between your thighs pulsed with sudden, aching heat, as though your body understood before your mind could. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a claim.

He stays there a moment, as though your knees, your thighs, deserve the same worship as your lips or breasts. Then another kiss, a little higher. Then again. And again.

He kisses the hollow of your ankle, the tender dip where shin meets foot, then moves back up—taking his time. You feel his lips on the swell of your calf, soft and lingering. You didn’t know that part of you could be so sensitive. But under his mouth, it’s like your skin has bloomed—become something fragile and new.

Each time he lifts his mouth from you, the air feels cold. Each return is a blessing.

By the time his mouth reaches the softest part of your inner thigh, your fingers are clutching the sheets.

He chuckles softly, eyes flicking up. “Even here, you taste like devotion.”

He doesn’t go further. Instead, he shifts to your other leg, starting over—kissing the outside of your knee, your calf, even your ankle, before trailing back up. You feel every breath, every brush of his lips as if it’s branding you.

Only when he’s kissed both thighs, both hips, and every inch between does he rest his cheek gently on your lower belly, just below your navel. His arms encircle your waist, holding you like something irreplaceable.

“I could stay here forever,” he murmurs. “Do you understand that? Your body… It’s not just beautiful, it means so much more. And by the end of tonight, it will belong to me.”

Then he kisses just above your mound, achingly slow. Not quite where you want him—but close. His lips hover, teasing.

Your skin is aflame, not with fire, but with something slower—thicker. Every kiss Sunghoon lays on your body leaves behind a pulse, like an echo that ripples through your nerves long after his lips have moved on.

He shifts slightly and presses a kiss just below your hipbone. Then another, on the opposite side. His hands stroke your thighs, smoothing down the tension, murmuring something low in a language you don’t recognize. It sounds ancient. Reverent.

Your breathing comes faster now. You feel open. Not just your body, but something deeper. Your chest feels exposed, your heart trembling inside your ribs. You don’t feel afraid. Just… vulnerable. Raw. Like you’re giving yourself away, piece by piece, and every piece matters.

Then he moves higher.

His mouth finds the underside of your breast—a place untouched, unnoticed. And he lingers. He kisses there softly, then drags his lips to the side of your ribcage, and then to the curve of your breast, never quite reaching your nipple. It’s maddening. And exquisite.

Every brush of his lips pulls a new sound from you—a gasp, a whimper, a whispered plea that you don’t even realize you’ve made.

You feel like you’re floating. Like your body is unraveling in slow motion.

He’s doing this. With just his mouth, his hands, and that impossibly calm voice that cuts through your haze like silk.

“I can feel you surrendering,” he says, lifting his head to look at you. “It’s beautiful.”

And it is. You’ve never felt so seen before. So known. Not just your body, but the hidden parts of you. The secret hunger you never voiced. The craving to be touched not just with lust, but with purpose.

And he gives it to you.

His hand slides back up your chest, palm warm now from your skin. He cups your breast again, this time brushing his thumb slowly over your nipple, watching how your lips part.

You feel everything: the rush of heat between your thighs, the fluttering in your stomach, the way your toes curl into the sheets. It’s overwhelming—but not too much. It’s just enough to make you ache.

He leans down again and kisses the top of your breast, then just beneath your throat, and finally, your lips—slow, deep, like he’s drinking from you.

You taste yourself in his mouth. Want. Wonder. Need.

And still… he’s holding back. Worshipping you with lips and hands, teaching you the art of desire—before he even thinks of taking what you’ve offered.

His hand begins its descent.

You feel it, even before he moves—just the intent in his posture makes your thighs tighten, your breath catch. One hand stays on your waist, holding you steady, grounding you as the other travels lower, fingertips tracing that familiar path over your navel, your belly… until it hovers just above the place where your heat has been building for what feels like hours.

You can feel yourself clenching—wanting, waiting.

He watches your face as his fingers finally brush down, between your thighs. His touch is light at first, barely there, but even that sends a jolt through your entire body. And then he finds you.

Two fingers slip between your folds, slow, precise. He parts you gently, stroking down the center until he finds the source of your wetness. He doesn’t push in. He simply lingers there, sliding his fingers through the slick arousal pooling at your core.

His breath catches faintly, and his eyes darken.

“My love…” he murmurs, his voice hushed and reverent, “You’re drenched.”

The words shouldn’t make you blush as hard as they do—but they do. He’s not mocking. He’s marveling. Like your body has given him a secret, and he’s honored just to witness it.

He brings those fingers up, just slightly, and spreads the wetness across your folds with practiced gentleness. Each movement is slow, exploratory, like he’s studying the way your body reacts—how you twitch when he brushes your clit too lightly, how your hips rise when he glides lower again.

“You ache for more,” he says softly, kissing your temple. “I can feel it in the way your body pulses under my hand.”

Then, without asking—because your body has already answered—he slides two fingers down again. This time, he presses inward. Just enough to feel the resistance.

You tense, instinctively. You never imagined it would feel like this. The stretch is foreign, but his voice, his hand on your leg, the warmth in his gaze… they guide you through it.

“Shhh…” he whispers, stroking your thigh with his free hand. “Let me in slowly. Let me prepare you. You’re so tight, sweetheart. So perfect.”

He draws back just a little, circling your entrance, gathering more of your wetness before trying again, pushing his fingers in with agonizing care.

The moment his fingers breach you—even just a little—your entire body seems to fold inward around the sensation. It’s not pain. It’s not even discomfort. It’s pressure—a firm, stretching fullness that sends a ripple of awareness from your core to the edges of your limbs.

Your breath catches. Your thighs tense. Your walls clench around him instinctively, like your body is trying to hold him there, to make sense of the invasion.

You feel impossibly full, and he’s barely inside you. The realization sends a dizzying heat through your belly—tight and low—and your body pulses around his fingers again, your entrance fluttering.

“You’re doing beautifully,” he breathes, now buried just the first knuckle deep. “You feel like heaven. You don’t even know how badly I want to lose myself in you.”

But he doesn’t.

He’s still patient. Still gentle. His fingers move in slow, shallow thrusts, coaxing your body open inch by inch. Preparing you. Worshipping you with every stroke.

And all the while, your heart beats wildly against your ribs. Your skin burns. Your thoughts dissolve into a haze of need.

Because you know what’s coming.

And the thought of him replacing those fingers with something deeper, something more—it’s enough to make your body tighten around the digits already inside you, your hips rising greedily to meet them.

And he feels it.

You’re soaking.

You didn’t know you could be this wet. But you are. You feel the slick heat coating his fingers, easing their path as he slowly presses deeper—just a little more, pausing again as your walls tighten reflexively.

“Breathe,” he murmurs. “Let your body open for me.”

You try. You let your lungs fill, and as you exhale, your body gives just enough. He sinks in a little farther, and your jaw drops, a soft moan slipping from you before you can stop it.

His fingers curve gently inside you, stroking the tender walls—not rough or fast, just steady, exploratory. You can feel the ridges of your inner muscles reacting to him, gripping him, trying to memorize the shape of him.

And god, the stretch.

It’s not overwhelming—but it feels. You feel everything. Every inch he moves, every subtle shift in angle, sends a cascade of sensation up your spine.

Your thighs tremble. Your stomach tightens. Your lips part around a breathless gasp as he curls his fingers ever so slightly—and that… that makes your entire body jolt.

A spike of pleasure blooms inside you—quick, sharp, then slowly unraveling. Your inner walls clench around him in response, and your wetness gushes, coating his hand.

You hear the soft sound of it—your arousal—and it makes your cheeks burn, but also… something else.

Need.

Raw, consuming need.

Because now that you’ve felt this, now that your body is giving way to him, you want more. Deeper. Harder. You want to be taken. Not carelessly—but like this. Like you matter. Like your pleasure is everything.

And he knows. Of course he knows.

“You’re gripping me so tightly,” he says, voice low and warm against your ear. “Your body wants this. It’s begging.”

His fingers slide out slowly, and you whimper at the loss—but then he pushes back in, deeper this time. Your walls stretch again, fluttering around him, and it’s almost too much.

Almost.

But not quite.

He begins to move in a rhythm now—slow thrusts, each one sending a new wave of sensation through your lower body. It’s not just your core that reacts. Your nipples tighten, your thighs quake, your mouth opens around soft, helpless moans that echo in the quiet room.

And you can feel the tension building.

It coils low in your belly, a warm, tight knot of pressure that grows with each stroke of his fingers, each brush of his knuckle, each shift in angle as he curls just right.

Your hips begin to rock into his hand without thought. You’re chasing it now. The pressure. The high.

And Sunghoon watches, his gaze dark, hungry, but still so unbearably gentle.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he breathes. “Let go. Let me feel you cum around my fingers.”

And you know he will keep going. Keep working your body until it shatters around him. Because this isn’t just sex. It’s worship. And you’re the altar.

Your hips have taken on a rhythm of their own now, rolling against his hand in small, desperate movements. You’re not thinking anymore. You can’t. The pressure coiling deep inside you is too tight, too fierce. It’s all-consuming, every nerve in your body trained on the place where his fingers slide in and out of you with reverent precision.

Sunghoon stays focused—never speeding up, never slowing, just holding you there on the edge, perfectly balanced between madness and release.

And then he curls his fingers again.

There.

You cry out—sharp and breathless—your back arching as that spot inside you explodes with pleasure, the wave hitting so hard it steals the air from your lungs.

“Oh—” The sound tears from your throat, ragged and raw.

Your walls clamp around him, fluttering wildly. You can feel the gush of wetness pouring out of you, soaking his fingers, your thighs, the sheets beneath. But there’s no room for embarrassment. There’s no room for anything.

Because the climax crashes over you in a rush of heat and light, white-hot and unrelenting.

Your hands clutch at the sheets. Your thighs close in around his wrist, trembling violently as the pleasure crests, then crests again, pulsing through you in waves that don’t stop. Your breath comes in sharp, broken gasps. Your heart hammers against your ribs, loud and frantic.

And through it all, he never stops.

His fingers keep moving, slow but firm, dragging every last drop of sensation from your shuddering body. You can feel yourself pulsing around him, squeezing, trying to milk the pleasure for all it’s worth. Your core clenches with each aftershock, your body not ready to let him go.

You’ve lost control. Completely.

Your lips part in a silent moan, your neck arched, your whole body stretched tight around the center of that pleasure like a string pulled to breaking.

And still… he doesn’t stop.

He watches your face, drinking in every twitch, every helpless sound you make. His free hand strokes your hair back from your damp forehead, his voice a low murmur, threading through the haze:

“That’s it, sweetheart… Look at how beautifully you fall apart for me. You were made for this. For me.”

The words only send another shiver through your spine. You didn’t think you could cum harder. But you do. Your body convulses, hips jerking uncontrollably as another wave seizes you. You gasp—sob, almost—your voice cracking from the intensity.

You don’t know how long it lasts.

All you know is the weightlessness. The loss of yourself. The way your mind blanks, drowned under the sheer power of your own pleasure. You can’t speak. Can’t think. You can only feel—and it feels like you’re being remade from the inside out.

When the wave finally begins to ease, you collapse into the mattress, boneless. As he withdraws his fingers, your body clenches around the absence. And from that perfect, trembling space between your thighs, a glistening string of arousal stretches—clinging to his fingertips, to your folds, like your body refuses to let him go.

The sight alone is obscene.

Delicate. Vivid. Sacred.

His gaze darkens. His cock throbs, twitching with need—restrained only by the years he’s mastered his own control. But this… this is different. No kingdom has ever made him feel like this. No blood. No war. No century.

Only you.

Your scent is rich now—intimate, warm, laced with the raw edge of climax. It clings to his fingers, to the air, to him. He lifts his hand, the one slick with your arousal, and parts his lips.

And then he tastes you.

Slowly.

His tongue glides along the length of his index finger, savoring the silken wetness, letting the flavor bloom on his tongue. Salty-sweet. Earthy. Utterly you.

His eyes flutter closed for just a moment.

It’s not just the taste—it’s the meaning of it. The fact that this wetness came from you, from the body he worshipped, from the pleasure he coaxed out of your untouched core. You gave him this. Not through pain or force, but through the softest surrender.

And now you’re lying there, boneless and glowing, your thighs still parted, your chest rising and falling like you’ve run miles through a dream.

He opens his eyes again and stares at you. There’s reverence in his gaze—but also something darker now. Hungrier. Deeper.

“I’ve tasted many things in my life,” he says, his voice low, tight with restraint. “But none have ever stayed with me.”

He slips the second finger into his mouth. Slower this time. Watching you.

“But you,” he murmurs around it, his eyes heavy with desire, “You linger. You ruin me.”

He swallows slowly, and for the first time tonight, his composure falters. He shifts—his body hard and aching, the press of his arousal unmistakable. He’s still holding back. But only barely.

Your pleasure has marked him.

Not just your arousal on his tongue, but your trust. Your body, so soft and willing beneath his. Your moans. Your trembling thighs. Your first orgasm given entirely to him.

And now—he wants more.

He wants to take you fully. To feel that wet, trembling heat stretch around the full length of him. To bury centuries of restraint between your thighs and lose himself in the warmth of your purity.

But not yet.

He leans over you, brushing his lips along your throat, and whispers:

“Do you feel what you’ve done to me?”

His hips press down—just enough for you to feel the weight of him against your entrance. Still clothed. Still restrained. But solid. Throbbing.

You’re still trembling, your body soft and spent, slick and open. But he doesn’t let you fall into the haze of afterglow. Not yet.

Not when he is trembling, too.

“I haven’t even claimed you yet,” he says, his breath hot against your skin, “and already… I belong to you.”

There’s something in the air. It feels changed. Charged. You feel it before he moves, like a storm building beneath the surface of his skin. He looks at you, and his expression is… ravenous. But not wild. No. This is the kind of hunger born from centuries of control finally cracking.

You’ve woken something inside him.

His hand slides back down between your thighs, gentle but insistent, spreading you once more. And you don’t resist. You can’t. Not when your body is still aching, your core still pulsing faintly, needy even in its sensitivity.

He settles between your legs again, lowering himself slowly, as if in reverence to something sacred.

And then you feel it.

His breath.

Warm and steady, ghosting over your already-wet folds. It makes you shiver. Your thighs twitch, instinctively trying to close, but he places a firm, commanding hand on your hip to keep you open.

You glance down, and his eyes are locked on your center like a starving man denied too long.

“I need to taste you again,” he says, voice like gravel softened by silk. “I haven’t felt this kind of hunger since the night I was turned.”

You open your mouth to speak, to say yes, to tell him to take what he wants—but the words catch in your throat.

Because he doesn’t wait.

His mouth descends, and this time… he doesn’t hold back.

The first stroke of his tongue is broad and slow, dragging from your entrance to your clit in a single, devastating pass. The contact steals your breath. Your hips lift off the bed, and a broken sound escapes you—half-moan, half-shock.

He groans against you. Deep. Like a man drinking ambrosia. Like he’s been dying for this.

And then he dives in again.

His tongue works you open with expert pressure—circling, flicking, then flattening again. He laps at your folds like a man possessed, the soft sounds of his mouth against your soaked heat sending heat racing up your spine.

You can feel the wet slide of his tongue parting you, dipping just inside your entrance, then dragging upward to swirl around your clit. Every motion is deliberate. No hesitation. No mercy.

Your legs start to shake.

You reach for something—anything—hands scrambling until they find his hair, soft and thick between your fingers. You clutch at it, not pulling him away, but closer.

“Sunghoon—” His name spills from your lips, cracked and desperate.

He hums in response, the vibration rippling through your entire pelvis. You cry out, your body jolting.

He doesn’t stop.

He devours you.

He alternates between slow, languid licks and short, fast flicks of his tongue directly over your clit—each one sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your core. And just when you think you might fall apart again, he flattens his tongue and sucks gently, then harder.

Your whole body locks, and it is on fire.

Your vision goes white at the edges.

The tension that had only just begun to fade is rebuilding with terrifying speed, the coil snapping back into place, tighter and hotter.

And through it all, he holds you open with one hand on your thigh, the other wrapped around your hip, anchoring you to the bed, to him.

You’re soaked, breathless, legs trembling around his head. His mouth is relentless—each swipe of his tongue building pressure deeper in your core, making your clit ache with hypersensitivity. You can feel it growing again—that hot, maddening tension—but it’s just out of reach. You’re teetering, clutching the edge with fingers made of smoke.

You need something.

And then you feel it.

His fingers.

They return without warning—slick and sure, sliding back into you with the same reverence as before, but now paired with the hunger of a man who wants to feel you cum hard.

He groans against your clit as your walls stretch to take him again, two fingers plunging into your heat with a wet, obscene sound that only makes your stomach clench tighter.

You cry out—sharp and loud—your hands fisting the sheets now. The stretch is deeper this time, the sensation more intense. Your inner muscles flutter around him, soaking his hand as he begins to move in rhythm.

He matches the thrust of his fingers with the rhythm of his tongue—sucking your clit into his mouth, then releasing, licking with rapid flicks before diving deep again.

It’s too much. It’s perfect.

Your body locks up, thighs squeezing around his head, your hips rolling up helplessly into every thrust. You feel your orgasm approaching fast now, sharp and violent, like a wave you can’t outrun.

And he knows.

He feels the way your cunt clenches down on his fingers, how your moans break apart, how your stomach tightens like you’re trying to hold it in.

He pulls his mouth away for just a second—just enough to murmur into your wetness:

“Don’t fight it. Let it take you.”

Then he curls his fingers just right—pressing into that perfect spot inside you with precision that no mortal lover could ever match.

And your world shatters.

Your orgasm slams into you without warning, without mercy. Your body bows off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream before sound finally tears free—raw and high-pitched.

Your cunt pulses wildly around his fingers, sucking them in with every clench, gushing wetness in a flood of release that spills over his hand, your thighs, the bed.

You can’t stop shaking.

Your legs are convulsing, your chest heaving, your vision going dark at the edges. You’re sobbing now—not from pain, but from the intensity. You didn’t know your body could feel this much. Could give this much.

And through it all, Sunghoon stays between your legs, holding you through the storm. His fingers keep stroking you, drawing out every wave, prolonging it until you’re gasping for breath, trying to pull away—but your body won’t let go. It wants more. He gives you more.

Only when you collapse back against the sheets, utterly spent, does he finally withdraw his fingers—slowly, carefully, watching the way your soaked walls twitch at the loss.

Another string of your arousal follows his hand, glistening between his fingers. He looks at it like a man holding something holy.

Then he brings it to his mouth and sucks each digit clean—eyes fixed on you.

Your body is still twitching, trembling, flooded with the aftershocks of your second climax, but Sunghoon isn’t done.

Not even close.

He lifts his head for a moment, mouth wet with you, lips glistening, eyes burning with something wild and unrelenting. And then, slowly—deliberately—he slides his hand back between your thighs and spreads you open with two fingers.

The cool air hits your soaked, swollen folds, and you gasp. You can feel how wet you are—see it in his eyes as he gazes down at your cunt like it’s the most sacred thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

He spreads you further, opening you completely.

And he stares.

There’s awe in his face. Hunger, too. But deeper than that—devotion. Like your slick, twitching little hole is the center of his universe.

“Look at you…” He breathes, voice rough, reverent. “So wet, so perfect… your body still quivering from the pleasure I gave you, and yet you’re begging for more without a word.”

He leans closer. His breath skates over your exposed folds. Your thighs twitch.

And then—he dives back in.

But this time, he doesn’t just lick you. He enters you with his tongue.

You cry out—shocked by the depth, the invasion, the heat. His tongue pushes inside you, wet and thick, writhing as it seeks every inch of your soft, sensitive walls. It’s not a flick. It’s not gentle.

It’s devouring.

Your back arches as he fucks you with his mouth—tongue plunging in and out of your dripping hole, working you open again from the inside. The sounds are obscene—slick and wet, your arousal smeared across his lips, dripping from you onto his chin.

And just when the sensation starts to push you toward madness—he adds his fingers.

His free hand slides up, two fingers finding your clit with terrifying accuracy. He doesn’t start slow. He knows you’re ready. He circles it firmly, rhythmically, matching the thrust of his tongue with the press of his fingers.

The dual stimulation is too much.

You scream—sharp and breathless—your thighs trying to close around his head again, but his shoulders hold you wide open. Helpless. Exposed. Completely at his mercy.

Your cunt clenches around his tongue, your body dripping wet, your clit throbbing under his touch.

You can’t think.

You can’t breathe.

You can’t do anything but feel.

Every flick of his fingers sends electric pleasure shooting through your core. Every thrust of his tongue floods you with a deeper, wetter ache. Your hips move without you, chasing the rhythm, grinding against his face.

And he growls against you—low and deep, the vibration sending a shock straight through your clit.

You nearly cum again right there.

Your voice breaks into whimpers. Your hands clutch his hair, desperate for something to hold onto. Your body is unraveling, piece by piece, soaked and pulsing and begging for release.

And Sunghoon?

He’s in ecstasy.

Buried between your legs, his tongue deep inside your cunt, his fingers sliding slick and fast across your clit—he’s feasting like a man starved for centuries.

The sounds between your legs are soaked and obscene—his tongue plunging deep inside your cunt, his lips suctioned around you like he’s drinking your soul, his fingers working your clit with practiced urgency. He’s relentless. Unstoppable.

And you’re breaking.

The pleasure is no longer a slow build—it’s a current now. An unstoppable wave rising, rising, rising, and this time… it doesn’t crest gently.

It snaps.

It starts right there—right where his tongue is buried inside your dripping core. A sharp, crackling bolt of sensation that ignites your womb and then spreads, fast and wild.

Like electricity.

It surges outward, up your spine, down through your thighs, wrapping around your nerves like fire in your blood. Your toes curl. Your calves lock. Your back arches violently off the bed, your muscles seizing as the orgasm detonates through you.

You scream—raw and breathless—your voice splintering in the air.

Your cunt clamps down on his tongue, convulsing in rhythmic spasms, so tight it nearly traps him there. Your walls pulse with frantic contractions, milking him for something he can’t give—but he stays inside you, fucking you with his mouth as your body floods his lips with your release.

You gush.

Soaked and helpless, your climax pours out of you in waves, wet and hot, coating his mouth, his chin, your inner thighs. And he moans into you—moans, like the taste of your orgasm is a drug, and he needs every drop.

The sensation only intensifies—his fingers don’t stop, circling your clit with wet, rapid precision that sends aftershocks tearing through your already-oversensitive flesh. Your legs shake. Your stomach tightens. Your hands slap at the sheets, grasping for something solid in a world that’s crumbled beneath the weight of your pleasure.

You can’t speak.

You can’t think.

You are nothing but pleasure now. A body undone. A girl trembling at the hands—and tongue—of a creature who was made to worship you.

And he takes everything.

He holds you open as your orgasm ravages you. He lets you ride it, scream through it, sob against the air as your body pulses again and again, your clit aching, your core soaked and twitching, until finally—finally—the wave begins to pull back.

And even then… he doesn’t stop.

He slows. Softens. Gently licks the mess from your folds, savoring every drip, every shiver of your exhausted body. He kisses your inner thighs, your mound, your belly. Worships you in the aftermath of your own destruction.

You’re panting. Trembling. Every nerve still echoing with the ghost of your climax.

He moves up, hovering above you, his lips swollen, his face slick with your arousal, his eyes dark with awe.

“You broke so beautifully for me,” he whispers, voice rough, reverent. “And you’ll do it again.”

Your chest rises and falls with the weight of three climaxes, each more devastating than the last. Your thighs are limp, your skin flushed and damp, your core still twitching with little aftershocks that ripple through you like echoes.

And still… Sunghoon doesn’t move to take what you’ve offered him.

He lifts his head from between your legs, lips glistening with your essence, and just looks at you—gaze heavy with something older than time, something more primal than lust.

And then… he leans in again.

But not to your core. Not yet.

His mouth finds your belly, just beneath your navel. He kisses you there softly, lips slow and deliberate, as though the skin there matters more than anything else in the world.

He presses another kiss—lower, deeper. Right over the space where your womb rests.

His hands stroke your sides as he kisses you there again. Slower. More lingering this time.

“You carry your pleasure here,” he whispers, voice like dark velvet, warm against your skin. “It blooms behind this soft flesh. I can feel it… It calls to me.”

Another kiss. Then another. His mouth moves in lazy, worshipful patterns across your lower abdomen, marking the center of you—the place from which your desire poured, the space that will soon take all of him.

Your breath hitches.

The attention there—over your womb—feels different. Intimate in a way that sex alone never could be. It makes something flutter in your chest. Something deep. Something tender.

But then he shifts again.

His mouth trails down your hips, then slowly, sensually to the insides of your thighs—those trembling, well-used muscles that still bear the proof of how thoroughly he’s taken you apart.

He kisses just above your knee, where the skin is soft and delicate. Then higher.

And higher.

His hands stroke along your thighs as his mouth works its way upward, pausing to press his lips into the sensitive junction where thigh meets hip. He lingers there, lips and tongue working slow circles, as though tasting the memory of your climax from your very skin.

You twitch.

Your legs part a little wider—reflex, invitation, surrender.

He smiles into your skin.

“Even after everything I’ve given you… Your body still calls for more.”

It’s true.

Though you’re weak, breathless, flooded with warmth, there’s still a glow beneath your skin—a need that never truly dulled. The ache is deeper now, quieter, but it’s there. Nestled low in your belly, where he kissed. Where he’ll soon be.

And he knows.

Which is why he kisses the inside of your other thigh, just as slowly. Just as soft. His fangs brush the skin, not biting, just grazing. A reminder. A promise.

Your body shivers in response.

And you realize: this is still foreplay to him.

Not because he wants to draw it out… but because you deserve to be unraveled, adored, prepared like a temple before he dares to step inside.

His breath fans against your soaked folds, warm and intimate, and then you hear it—his voice, low and rough, nearly a growl veiled in silk.

“But you need rest, my love…”

You inhale sharply.

“…because once I start…”

His lips brush your entrance, and your hips jump.

“…I might not be able to stop.”

The words land on your flesh like a touch—hot, possessive, deep.

And your body responds.

A pulse starts low in your belly, tight and hot. Your core clenches—clenches—around nothing, a fluttering, instinctive reaction to the promise in his voice. Your clit throbs, still tender from the climax he stole from you moments ago, but already aching again.

You’re wet. Wetter. Soaking in response to just a handful of whispered words.

Because it’s not just what he says—it’s how he says it.

The reverence.

The restraint.

And beneath it, the quiet, throbbing threat that once he takes you—once he lets go of the centuries of control holding him back—there’ll be no turning back.

You moan. Soft. Breathless.

Your thighs fall open farther on instinct, exposing your spent, glistening cunt to his mouth, as if your body is answering for you: I don’t want you to stop.

But still, he doesn’t move.

He simply hovers there, letting the heat of his breath kiss your folds, letting his words sink into your core like silk-wrapped daggers.

And you feel it—your womb fluttering with anticipation, your slick walls spasming lightly, the ache between your thighs transforming from soreness to craving.

You should be spent.

But you’re not.

You’re awakening again—set aflame by nothing more than the promise of what he’s holding back.

And he knows it.

He smiles softly, eyes hooded with desire.

“You see?” he whispers, his lips grazing your swollen clit. “Even exhausted, your body begs to be claimed.”

When he rises over you, you’re still gasping in the afterglow of that last orgasm—every breath shallow, your chest rising and falling in soft tremors. Your skin is flushed, damp, and hypersensitive. Even the sheets brushing your thighs feel like fire.

And then he kisses you.

Really kisses you.

It’s not a gentle press of lips this time—it’s hot and wet, all tongue and teeth and heat. He takes your mouth like he owns it. Like he’s been starving for the taste of your moans. His tongue parts your lips, sliding deep with confidence, exploring you with a hunger that makes your toes curl.

You let him. You want him to. That’s the truth you’ve been holding inside this whole time.

You don’t just want to be touched.

You don’t just want to be loved.

You want to be used.

And he knows it.

Your mouth opens wider under his, letting him in, letting him take. His tongue tangles with yours, slow but deliberate, tasting you, marking you. His lips are plush and firm, but then you feel something sharper—fangs, grazing your bottom lip, teasing without piercing. A soft whimper escapes you.

The kiss alone sends a jolt straight down your spine, right to your already aching core. It clenches instinctively—empty, fluttering, wanting. Your thighs twitch. Your nipples harden again, oversensitive but alive. Even the softest brush of his fingers along your waist makes your muscles seize and flutter beneath the surface.

You can’t keep still.

Your body writhes beneath him—subtle shifts of your hips, your thighs spreading wider, your hands clutching the sheets and then relaxing, only to tense again. You’re trembling in waves now. His kiss is too much. But it’s also not enough.

Everything feels tripled.

Your mouth feels like it’s burning. Your lips are swollen from the pressure of his. Your tongue aches to follow his own. And when he growls low into your mouth—low and possessive—it vibrates through your whole skull, down your throat, right into your chest like a shockwave.

You moan into his mouth, and your hips roll upward without thought, trying to find friction against the press of him above you. There’s nothing there yet—not his cock, not even his hand—but your body wants it. Your cunt clenches around the emptiness, slick and pulsing with new need.

You feel tears at the corners of your eyes—not from pain, not even from pleasure—but from how much you want. From how deeply the need runs now.

You’re unraveling all over again, just from the pressure of his mouth on yours.

He pulls back slightly, and your lips chase his—needy, shameless. You’re panting now, open and wet and trembling beneath him.

He smirks, lips shiny with your spit. His voice is ragged when he speaks.

“You’re shaking again,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your jaw. “And I haven’t even touched your cunt this time.”

You whimper at the word. The way he says it—low, vulgar, reverent—makes your walls flutter again.

“I think you like being ruined,” he says. “You want to be used, don’t you, little one?”

His voice is low, taunting—but soaked in reverence. Every syllable curls around your skin like smoke, warm and thick and inescapable.

You nod.

It’s the only thing you can do. Your body won’t let you speak. Your lips are parted, swollen from his kiss. Your chest is rising in sharp, shallow gasps. Your heart pounds like it’s trying to escape your ribs.

And then the word spills out of you—yes—fragile, broken, desperate.

You feel it tremble out of your throat.

His expression shifts instantly. The tension he’s held back for what feels like hours—the centuries of restraint braided into his every breath—begins to unravel.

His lips curve into a smile, but it’s not soft this time.

It’s sharp. Dangerous.

A glimpse of his true nature blooms behind that smile—his long, perfect fangs gleaming faintly in the low light. It should make you flinch. It doesn’t. It makes your thighs twitch.

Then he leans in—so close his lips nearly brush your ear—and he promises it:

“Oh, my love…”

A kiss to your jaw, wet and slow.

“I’m going to break you.”

The words don’t just make your breath stutter—they reach inside you and pull. Your core clenches hard, slick and aching. Your back arches. Your nipples tighten painfully, every nerve lit up in response.

You feel everything.

The ache. The hunger. The pulse between your thighs, louder than your heartbeat. You’re still trembling, still soaked, still wrecked from the orgasms he’s already given you… But now, your body craves destruction.

Not violence. Not carelessness.

Ruin.

The kind that’s slow. Deep. Intentional. The kind only he can give.

And he knows it.

He gazes down at you like a god at his offering—his lips parted, his fangs glinting, his body ready. His hips press forward, not fully, but enough that you feel the weight of him now—heavy, hot, restrained no longer.

And you… You don’t flinch.

You open your legs wider. You tilt your hips upward. You offer yourself with a breathless gasp and eyes half-lidded in submission.

Because this is what you’ve wanted all along.

To be undone. To be remade.

To be ruined by him.

You can still feel the echo of your last orgasm humming in your thighs, soft tremors that haven’t quite let go. Your body is stretched open, slick and sensitive, every nerve along your skin tuned to the soft drag of the sheets, to the warm air kissing your swollen core.

And then he descends again.

You gasp.

You’d thought he might press forward—finally, finally fill the emptiness inside you—but instead, his hands return to your thighs, gently parting them again, spreading you wide like you’re something delicate… delicate, but his.

Then his mouth lowers.

And he begins to kiss you there.

Not just a lick. Not a flick. Not teasing.

Wet kisses. Messy. Open-mouthed. Devotional.

He kisses your cunt like it’s your lips—no, deeper than that—like it’s the center of your being. The place he’s been waiting to worship for centuries.

You can hear the sounds—his tongue dragging over your folds, the faint, obscene smack of his lips pressing into your slick entrance. He groans into you as he kisses low, then higher, then right at your clit—just a soft, swollen brush, and your body jerks.

He doesn’t pause.

He kisses you again.

Another open-mouthed press right against your folds, and this time, he lingers. His tongue flattens against your entrance, then slides up slowly—slow, wet, deliberate—before pulling back and pressing another kiss lower, right at the spot where his tongue had been buried moments ago.

Your thighs tremble.

You feel your cunt clench helplessly, empty, aching, fluttering at the lips just from the kiss.

And it feels like a kiss—not licking, not oral technique—but intimacy. Pressure and mouth and breath. He’s making out with your pussy, and it’s not just pleasure—it’s too deep for that. It’s possession.

You moan, broken and quiet, your hips rocking into his face, but he doesn’t speed up.

He’s patient.

Each kiss is a statement.

Each press of his lips says mine.

He groans softly against you, and the vibration sparks a fresh jolt through your core. You can feel your arousal thickening again—smeared across your thighs, dripping down your folds, warm and endless.

And still, he keeps kissing you.

His tongue pushes between your lips, dipping just inside your fluttering entrance before pulling out to swirl around your clit, then lower again. You’re not sure how long he stays there, mouth locked to your cunt, lips wet and moving, tongue sliding and tasting and worshipping—but it’s long enough that you lose the ability to think.

You melt.

You float.

Your body is trembling again, that same raw, desperate sensitivity tightening back into something dangerous. Another orgasm? No—something else. Deeper. Slower. A fullness that hasn’t even happened yet, and still your body prepares for it.

He moans softly into you.

You hear him whisper something, but it’s muffled by the slick sounds of his tongue against your cunt. You feel the hot puff of his breath against your swollen lips, and it sends another twitch through your thighs.

And all the while, your mind whispers: He’s making love to me with his mouth. Not for show. Not for dominance. Because he wants to. Because he needs to.

Because this is part of the ruin—breaking me not just with force, but with unbearable devotion.

His mouth is still locked to your cunt, lips slick with your arousal, his tongue moving in slow, reverent circles like it’s his only language. He licks and kisses and breathes into you like your body alone is keeping him alive.

You’re whimpering again, legs trembling, your back arching off the bed in small, uncontrolled pulses. Every time he presses his lips to your entrance—slow, wet, aching kisses—you feel the tension building again, the need winding tighter in your belly.

And then he pauses—just barely, lips still ghosting your folds—and speaks.

His voice is low and shaking now, rough with want, thick with centuries of hunger he’s barely kept chained.

“Will you let me take everything from you, my love?”

He kisses your clit, tender and slow.

“Will you let me satiate my hunger with your body?”

The words hit like lightning.

You cry out—your voice sharp, a moan twisted with desperation. Your thighs clamp around his head, hips rolling upward into his mouth, your hands fisting the sheets as your answer tears from your throat:

“Yes!”

It’s not polite. Not soft. Not whispered.

It’s screamed, breathless, raw and aching, your entire body echoing the word. Every pulse of your core, every twitch of your oversensitive clit, every wet contraction of your cunt—all of it screams yes.

Yes, take me. Yes, ruin me. Yes, I’m yours.

He moans—moans into your cunt—and the vibration sends another shudder rolling through you. His tongue dives back between your folds, kissing you deeper, hungrier, like your answer finally unshackled him.

He devours you now, tongue pushing deep into your entrance, his nose brushing your clit with every movement. His kisses become wetter, messier, more desperate. You can feel his mouth sealing over your core, as if he’s trying to drink the sounds from your throat, the tremors from your thighs, the heat from your womb.

And you give it to him.

Your body rolls, rocks, offers. You sob his name like a prayer. You beg without words, every breath a plea for more.

And he gives you everything.

Because that yes wasn’t just permission—it was submission.

And he’s waited centuries to be given someone like you.

You’re gasping, soaked, trembling, your legs still parted wantonly as he finally pulls back from the mess he’s made between your thighs. His mouth, chin, and cheeks are slick with you—glossed in the raw, intimate proof of your pleasure. Your arousal shines on him like a mark of devotion.

He rises slowly, crawling up your body with the grace of a predator… and the gaze of a lover.

Your skin burns beneath him—everywhere he kissed, everywhere he touched. You feel open, split wide by sensation, and yet not taken. Not fully. Not in the way your body now aches for.

And then he leans down—not between your legs, but higher.

To your face.

You expect heat again. Fire. Teeth. Tongue.

But instead…

He kisses your lips.

Soft. Slow. Chaste.

His mouth brushes yours with the barest pressure, a whisper of contact. No urgency. No devouring.

Just him.

His lips are warm and slightly sticky from where he tasted you, but the kiss is gentle, reverent. Like he’s sealing something sacred.

And it wrecks you.

Your heart stutters in your chest. Your face flushes hot. After all he’s done to your body—spreading you, tasting you, worshipping and wrecking you—this is what makes you blush.

This innocent kiss.

Because it’s not about possession.

It’s about love.

His fingers cradle your jaw as his lips hover for a heartbeat longer, and you feel tears sting the corners of your eyes—not from pain, or even overwhelming pleasure—but from how deeply you are seen.

Owned. Yes. Used. Yes. But also… cherished.

You gasp quietly into his mouth, and he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze.

His eyes are soft now. Still dark. Still dangerous. But softened around the edges, like velvet stretched over steel.

“You are everything,” he whispers. “And soon you’ll also belong to me.”

And you nod again, this time without shame. Without fear.

Blushing. Trembling. Ready.

You watch him rise over you, the heat of his body sinking into yours even before he touches you. His eyes roam slowly down your form—your parted legs, your glistening thighs, your flushed chest—and then they lift again, meeting your gaze.

Silent.

Heavy.

And then he begins to undress.

He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t tease. He simply removes—button by button, layer by layer—and with every inch of pale skin revealed, the warmth in your face spreads like wildfire.

You’ve felt his mouth between your legs. You’ve screamed for him. You’ve begged him to take everything from you.

And yet, watching him bare himself—watching centuries of composed elegance stripped away before your eyes—it undoes you in an entirely new way.

His shirt falls from his shoulders, revealing sculpted muscle beneath porcelain skin, lean and powerful, lined with strength earned across lifetimes. His pants come next, slow and fluid, and then—he stands before you, naked.

And beautiful.

God, he’s beautiful.

The lines of his body are impossibly perfect—his chest broad, his waist narrow, his thighs strong and commanding. And his cock…

Your breath catches.

He’s thick. Long. Heavy. Already hard, flushed at the tip, arousal pulsing down the length. And all you can think is—that’s going inside me.

Your face erupts in heat.

You cover it with both hands, a helpless squeak catching in your throat, your thighs pressing together on instinct. Your body still aches to be filled, still throbs between your legs—but your embarrassment blooms too fast, too real to hide.

And for a moment… It’s quiet.

You hear nothing but your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Then you hear him chuckle.

Soft. Warm. Disbelieving.

You peek between your fingers, and he’s staring down at you with his head tilted slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

And his voice—his voice is full of something deep:

“How,” he murmurs, stepping closer, “can you be so adorable?”

There’s wonder in his tone. Not mockery. Not pride. Awe.

As if, after everything he’s done to your body—after hearing you moan and beg and scream his name—he’s still stunned by the softness in you. The blush. The shyness. The contrast of your purity, even now, when you’ve given him everything.

He kneels back between your legs, his hands finding your wrists.

Slowly, gently, he pulls your hands from your face and leans in close, brushing his lips against your temple.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” he whispers. “You’ve never been more beautiful than you are right now.”

And you believe him.

Even as the blush lingers, even as your chest flutters wildly, you believe him. Because the way he looks at you isn’t just hungry anymore, it’s devoted.

He doesn’t move right away.

He takes you in with one last look—your flushed skin, your parted lips, the way your legs fall open for him like a flower blooming under moonlight. Your cunt is glistening, folds swollen, the evidence of your pleasure coating your thighs, your heat radiating up into his hands.

He exhales softly, then shifts—settling between your legs with the same care one would show a sacred relic. And then you feel it.

The press of his cock.

Heavy. Hot. Smooth against your slick folds.

Your breath stutters.

He doesn’t push in yet—no. He slides it up first. Slowly. His shaft drags through your wetness, collecting it, slicking himself in the mess of your arousal.

And your body responds.

The thick ridge of him glides along your entrance, up through your folds, and then—there. His tip bumps against your clit.

You gasp.

Your legs twitch.

The contact is light, but after everything he’s done to you, it sends a jolt straight through your belly. Your clit pulses, oversensitive and needy, and you shivers beneath him.

He does it again.

Another long, slow stroke of his cock through your folds, bumping your clit at the top, then sliding back down to your soaked entrance.

You moan this time—a soft, broken sound—and he groans above you, the sound low and guttural.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, eyes locked on your cunt as his length glides through you again. “Your body wants me so badly.”

You can’t speak. Your breath is caught, hands gripping the sheets, hips lifting slightly to meet the next stroke.

And then he stops.

The head of his cock nestles at your entrance.

Right there. Poised. Waiting.

He leans over you, bracing himself with one hand beside your head, the other guiding his cock to your core.

His forehead brushes against yours.

“This is it,” he whispers. “I’m going to feel you for the first time. Every inch.”

You nods. Your eyes shimmer. Your legs open wider.

You're ready.

And then—he pushes.

The tip breaches you.

And your world changes.

It’s not fast. It’s not brutal. It’s deep. Stretching. You can feel every ridge, every vein, every impossible inch of him pressing into you, and your body, tight and untouched, yields around him.

Your breath catches in your throat.

It’s not pain. It’s fullness.

Unbearable fullness.

He groans again—sharp this time, as your slick heat wraps around his cock like a vice, tight and hot and pulsing with life.

“God,” he breathes. “You feel… incredible.”

You clutch at his shoulders, your eyes fluttering closed, your mouth open in a soft, helpless moan.

It feels like he’s opening you from the inside.

Stretching you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

Your walls flutter around him, trying to adjust, your body trembling as he sinks deeper—inch by inch—holding your eyes, holding your hips, murmuring soft, steady praise as your virgin cunt welcomes him inside.

Emotion swells behind the pleasure.

He’s inside you.

Truly inside.

Your first and only.

And he’s not just taking your body—he’s claiming the hidden, aching part of you that always longed to be known. To be seen. To be used and loved in the same breath.

Tears prick your eyes—not from pain, but from the depth of it all.

You feel filled. Not just physically, but emotionally. Spiritually. Like something inside you has finally been answered.

And then… he bottoms out.

Fully sheathed.

Pressed to the hilt.

His hips nestle against your ass, his chest against yours, his cock deep in the clutch of your heat.

They both freeze for a moment.

Breathless. Wide-eyed.

“I’m inside you,” he whispers, voice thick with awe, his breath shaking against your lips. “Finally.”

You feel it—all of him, every inch of him stretching your virgin walls, pressing into places that make your toes curl, your stomach flip, your chest ache with the weight of something too big to name. He’s deep. So deep. You feel the throb of him inside you like a heartbeat not your own.

And yet—

It’s not enough.

Your body is on fire. Every inch of your skin is vibrating with overstimulation, your cunt fluttering around his cock, struggling to adjust to the girth, the length, the impossible fullness—but beneath the stretch, beneath the overwhelming tightness…

There’s hunger.

The kind that makes your mouth open on instinct. The kind that comes from the marrow of your bones. The kind that demands.

“Hoonie…”

Your voice is breathless, trembling.

He looks down at you instantly, his eyes wide, his mouth parted, sweat clinging to his temples. He thinks you’re overwhelmed. He thinks you need gentleness.

He doesn’t know that what you need is more.

You reach up, grab his face in both hands. Your fingers shake, but your grip is firm. You hold his jaw—force his gaze to see you.

And then you speak.

Not meek. Not blushing.

“I want you to fuck me.”

His breath catches.

“I want you to use me.”

His pupils dilate.

“I want you to ruin me, Hoonie. Break me. Breed me. Fuck me like you’re in heat—like your life depends on it.”

He goes still.

Frozen.

Your nails dig into his cheeks, your legs wrapping around his waist, locking him inside you. You arch your hips up, grinding your soaked cunt around his cock, still stretched, still adjusting—but your mind doesn’t care. Your body doesn’t care.

You’re already wet. You’re already split wide. You’re already his.

Now you want to be wrecked.

“Please,” you whisper. “Take me. Don’t hold back. I want to be fucked like you’re losing your mind.”

And that’s when you see it.

The snap.

The worship flickers. The restraint uncoils. And something else fills his eyes now.

Possession.

Raw. Unfiltered. Ferocious.

He growls—growls, low and deep in his chest—and then his hands are gripping your thighs, spreading you wider, locking your hips to the bed.

“Oh, fuck, my love…”

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing hard through his nose, trying to hold the last thread of control.

But you feel it trembling.

“You want to be fucked like you’re mine?” he breathes, his voice a rasp of barely-contained need. “You want to be bred like a filthy little thing in heat?”

You moan—yes, yes, that’s exactly what you want—and your hips try to rise again, but he slams them back down.

“Then don’t take it back,” he warns, his voice low, feral. “Because once I start… I will not stop until I’ve emptied every last drop inside you.”

And then he pulls back.

His cock slides out slowly, dragging against your soaked, stretched walls, and you feel every inch leaving you. You gasp, your core clenching, already aching from the loss.

Then—he slams back in.

The first thrust knocks the air from your lungs.

Not because it hurts—but because it’s too much.

Too deep.

Too fast.

Sunghoon doesn’t ease into it. Doesn’t hold back. The second you gave him permission—begged for it—he became something else entirely. Something darker. Something real.

And your scream echoes through the room, your nails raking down his back as he begins to fuck you exactly how you asked—like an animal, like a beast in heat, like a man finally giving into the hunger you unleashed in him.

He’s still Sunghoon. Still your lover. But now he’s a creature of need, and you are the only thing that can satisfy it.

His hips slam into yours again, and your entire body bounces beneath the force of it. The impact sends another pulse of heat through your core, your cunt clenching desperately around him, still trying to adjust to the girth of his cock, still fluttering from the stretch of your virgin walls.

But he doesn’t slow.

He thrusts again.

And again.

The rhythm builds, brutal and fast, and your body is struggling to keep up. You feel it—your slick squelching around his length, dripping from where he’s pounding into you, your clit catching friction with every push of his hips, overstimulated and screaming in silence.

Your mouth falls open.

But nothing comes out.

You want to cry his name, but it’s like your brain can’t form the shape of it. All you can feel is the stretch. The impact. The hot ache of his cock splitting you open and owning you.

Your walls try to grip him with every thrust, but he’s too big, too fast, and the fullness becomes unbearable. Your core is clenching—a desperate, fluttering attempt to take him deeper, to hold him in place, but he just keeps fucking into you, your cunt squeezing and sucking and dripping as your body tries to survive the assault it begged for.

You’re burning.

Sweating.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes—not from pain, but from the sheer overwhelm.

Your legs twitch around his hips, your hands scrabbling at his back, your head tilting to the side as you gasp brokenly—

“Sunghoon—ah—too much—”

He growls, fucking into you even harder, his hands pinning your wrists to the bed as he leans in and whispers:

“You said you wanted to be used. You said you wanted to be broken.”

And gods help you—your cunt tightens at those words.

Because it’s true.

You wanted this. You need this. And now your body is being reformed around him. Every thrust reshapes you. Every wet slap of skin against skin writes a new truth into your womb: you are his now.

Your nipples are painfully hard, your clit swollen and throbbing, your voice reduced to mewling little moans that barely make it past your throat.

You’re losing control.

Losing yourself.

And deep down, beneath the shock and overstimulation and unbearable fullness…

You love it.

Because this is what you asked for. Not to be loved sweetly. Not to be kissed like a flower. But to be fucked—like prey caught beneath something ancient and starved.

And Sunghoon?

He’s just getting started.

You don’t even realize what he’s doing at first. One moment you’re pinned to the bed, your body jolting with every brutal thrust, your vision swimming, mouth open around moans that don’t even sound human anymore—

And then his grip tightens.

Rough hands grip your hips—no longer soft, no longer careful—and he pulls. Your lower back lifts off the bed, and your ass rises with it, dragging your slick body higher into his lap.

You cry out—loud, raw, uncontrolled—as your legs fall wider, your spine arching as he holds you there, suspended in the air.

And then he thrusts.

Deeper.

The change is instant.

His cock drives into you at a new angle, hitting a place so deep, so unforgiving, that your whole body seizes. Your head jerks back into the pillow. Your thighs shake violently around his waist. Your cunt clamps down around him like it’s trying to keep him in that spot.

You scream.

You can’t help it.

It’s not pain—it’s too full, too much, the angle making every thrust feel like he’s punching the air out of your lungs. His cock grinds against your womb now, thick and unrelenting, and your body reacts like it’s been bred for this.

Your hips are no longer yours. They’re his, suspended in the air, pulled into every brutal, rutting thrust.

He’s fucking up into you now, hard and fast, his cock slamming into your cunt with wet, obscene sounds that echo louder than your moans. Your slick is smeared across his thighs, dripping down his balls, everywhere.

Your body is twitching uncontrollably—your stomach tightening, your nipples stiff, your cunt gushing.

And your mind?

It’s shattering.

You’re not thinking anymore.

Your thoughts have been reduced to three desperate truths:

He’s inside me. He won’t stop. I need this.

You can’t form words. You can barely see. Your hands claw at the sheets, at his arms, at nothing. Your mouth opens around a choked cry—his name, maybe, or just a noise that lives where language fails.

The stretch is unbearable. The depth is devastating.

And still he fucks you—grunting, panting, growling into the air like a beast finally allowed to rut. His hands grip your hips so tightly you’ll have bruises. You want them. You want the proof.

He leans over you, your legs still high, still folded open, his cock buried deep in your cunt as he thrusts again, again, again, and it feels like he’s not just inside you.

It feels like he’s inside your soul.

You feel broken.

Beautifully, brutally broken.

And there’s only one thought left in your mind now, floating through the haze:

‘He’s going to break me open and fill me.’

And gods… You want him to.

He’s still fucking you like he’s in heat. Like there’s no one else in the world but your soaked, trembling body clinging around his cock. His grip on your hips is bruising, your thighs suspended in the air, your back arched off the bed—his thrusts punching into you with brutal precision, again and again, deeper than your body should be able to take.

Your cunt is soaked, stretched, pulsing, overflowing—but somehow it still wants more.

And then he throws his head back.

It’s sudden. A snap of the spine. His chest expands, his cock buried to the hilt inside your womb, and for a moment, everything freezes—except him.

His mouth opens.

His fangs drop.

And he moans.

Not a groan. Not a growl.

A moan—thick, hoarse, pornographic. It’s so raw, so deeply broken, it sounds like his soul is being pulled from his body through your cunt.

It fills the room like thunder.

And that’s it.

That sound—that is what takes you under.

Your orgasm detonates with no warning. It doesn’t build. It erupts.

Your entire body locks—arms stiff, legs trembling, back arched like a bow. Your mouth opens around a silent scream, and your cunt clamps down on his cock so violently it’s like your body’s trying to milk the pleasure straight out of him.

Your vision goes white.

Your ears ring.

Your stomach clenches. Your thighs shake. Your hands claw at the sheets as wave after wave of brutal, blinding pleasure floods you—sharp, hot pulses radiating from your core, all the way to your fingertips.

It’s your fourth. Or maybe your fifth. You don’t even know anymore.

You just know that this one breaks you.

You sob.

A ragged, breathless, desperate sob—half pleasure, half surrender—as your cunt gushes around him, slick pouring out of you, soaking everything. You can hear it—wet, obscene, like a flood of need pouring down his cock and onto the sheets.

And he feels it.

His head snaps forward. His fangs glint. His eyes are wild.

He growls—deep and low, like your orgasm is a trigger inside him, too—and he thrusts harder, chasing his own edge now, fucking you through your orgasm, into the madness beyond it.

And your body?

It’s done.

You’re twitching. Gasping. A tear slips from the corner of your eye as your cunt continues to pulse helplessly around him, every nerve lit up, every breath a struggle.

But inside all that—inside the shattered pieces of you—there’s one glowing truth:

You wanted to be broken.

And he is. Beautifully and completely.

You’re still coming. Still twitching, still clenching, your cunt fluttering in frantic, helpless pulses around his cock. Your back is arched, your throat raw from your cries, your mind barely holding on—

And then he strikes.

His head snaps down, and his mouth crashes against your chest—your right breast, lips closing around the soft swell of flesh just above your nipple.

And then—the bite.

Fangs pierce your skin with a sharp, sudden pressure that steals your breath.

You gasp—a choked, high-pitched sob that turns into a moan as your nerves catch fire. The pain is brief, bright, but it melts into something hotter, something deeper.

Because the moment his fangs sink in—he feeds.

You feel it. The suction. The pull.

Not just blood—you.

He’s taking something from you with every pulse of his mouth. Not just your body, not just your cunt, but your essence. Your life.

And you give it.

Your hand flies to the back of his head, fingers sinking into his hair, holding him there, pulling him tighter against your chest as he drinks. You need it. You need him to feed from you like this—desperate and starved and yours.

And gods, your body responds.

You clench again around his cock—harder this time, tighter, impossibly so. Your walls grip him like a fist, like your body is trying to milk him in rhythm with his feeding.

And he moans.

Mouth full of you, blood slicking his lips, his cock buried inside your gushing cunt—he moans into your chest, and the vibration rolls straight through your ribcage like a second heartbeat.

It’s too much.

It’s everything.

Your thoughts stutter, scatter, and dissolve into primal, burning instinct.

All you can feel is:

He’s drinking me. He’s inside me. He’s mine. I’m his.

There’s something dizzying in it—the pull of blood, the rush of endorphins, the painful pleasure blooming behind your nipple. Your skin is buzzing, hypersensitive, your clit still throbbing, your cunt still soaked and stretched wide around his cock.

Your body starts to float.

A high beyond orgasms. Beyond touch.

You’re not even sure if you’re crying or laughing or moaning anymore.

It’s all too much.

And still, you hold him to your breast, cradling him like a lover, like a monster, like a god, your legs wrapped around his waist, your body arched to give him everything.

Because you want it.

You want to be emptied.

Ruined.

Fed from.

And in this moment, you don’t care if it kills you. Because you’ve never felt more alive.

His mouth is sealed to your breast, his fangs sunk deep into your tender flesh, the pull of his feeding strong, rhythmic, relentless. Each draw from your veins is slow, greedy, intimate. You feel it—your blood flowing into him, your warmth feeding his cold hunger.

And it turns you on.

More than it should.

Your head tips back, lips parted in a soundless cry. Your hand stays tangled in his hair, clutching him to you as if you’re afraid he’ll stop. As if your body needs to be emptied by him, drop by drop.

And then—

His other hand moves.

It slides between your bodies, down your trembling stomach, over your slick mound.

You barely register the movement—until his fingers find your clit.

And press.

You scream.

There’s no other word for it.

His touch is firm, deliberate, circling your swollen clit with practiced ease, and your body jerks, helpless and oversensitive, the shock of pleasure blending with the strange, blissful drain of his feeding.

You don’t know where the sensations begin or end anymore.

Your nipple is hard against his cheek. Your cunt is still stretched wide around his cock. Your clit is throbbing under his fingers. Your blood is flowing into his mouth.

And you’re losing yourself.

Your thighs try to close. Your hips jerk up. Your cunt clenches around him, milking his cock with desperate, fluttering pulses, your slick soaking the sheets beneath you.

And he moans into your chest.

The sound is low and vibrating, and it echoes through your breast, down your spine, into your womb.

His mouth sucks harder.

His fingers move faster.

And your body gives in.

Your back arches.

Your toes curl.

Your entire body tightens like a wire about to snap—

And you shatter.

Your orgasm hits like a storm.

You cry out—raw and wrecked, tears spilling down your cheeks as your body convulses under him. Your cunt pulses violently around his cock, tighter than ever, soaking him in another flood of release. Your clit throbs against his fingers, your breast aches beneath his mouth, and your chest heaves with every broken sob of pleasure.

You’re gushing. Trembling. Clawing at him like you’ll fall apart if he ever stops.

And he doesn’t.

He feeds.

He rubs.

He fucks you through it—still buried inside you, still drinking from you, still pulling every last drop of pleasure from your ruined, sensitive, offered body.

It feels endless.

It is endless.

And when it finally begins to fade—when your limbs go slack, your eyes heavy, your lips parted in soft, stunned whimpers—he finally slows.

His mouth lifts from your chest.

His tongue licks the wound—soft, reverent—closing it with a kiss, sealing the mark that will never fade.

And he looks down at you.

Blood on his lips.

Eyes blown wide with something beyond hunger.

And he says, voice rough, hoarse, ruined:

“Now you’re mine.”

You’re so gone, you only notice him slipping out of you when your cunt twitches at the loss, empty and aching, still fluttering in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your limbs are heavy, useless, your chest rising and falling with ragged, open-mouthed breaths. You feel like liquid—spread across the bed, broken in the most beautiful way.

But he’s not finished.

You hear the shift of the mattress. Feel his hands curl around your waist—tight, intentional.

And then—he moves you.

In one smooth, effortless pull, he flips you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the sweat-dampened pillow, your mouth parting with a soft, surprised gasp. You try to lift yourself, but your arms buckle, too weak.

And he doesn’t let you recover.

He grabs your hips and raises you.

Your ass lifts high, your knees pressed into the sheets, your thighs spread open by the positioning of his hands. You’re bent perfectly—spine arched, ass exposed, your soaked, swollen pussy on full display, still dripping with the mess of your last climax.

You can feel how open you are. How wrecked. How used.

And yet—your body reacts.

Your cunt clenches at the exposure, the cool air hitting your wet skin, the knowledge that he’s behind you now, staring. Silent. Waiting.

He hasn’t touched you.

Not yet.

But you feel his eyes—burning into you.

Sunghoon kneels behind you, his cock thick and slick, heavy in his hand, still glistening with your juices and desperate for release. But he doesn’t thrust back inside. Not yet.

He watches.

His eyes trace the curve of your spine, the lift of your ass, the wet gleam of your slit as it twitches with overstimulated need.

You’re breathing hard. Twitching. But you don’t move.

You can’t.

And he still doesn’t touch you.

Not because he doesn’t want to.

Because he does.

Too much.

You feel the tension in the air—coiled like a beast between you. His hunger. His need. His possession.

And then you hear it—his voice, low and reverent, almost in awe:

“Look at you…”

His hand slides over your ass—slow, reverent—just one palm smoothing over the soft flesh, watching how your body twitches at the touch.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers. “And still offering yourself.”

He grips your ass, spreading you slightly, and groans when your folds part for him—wet, raw, open.

“You asked me to fuck you like an animal,” he breathes. “And now you’re here… trembling… leaking… mine.”

He leans forward, one hand pressing down between your shoulder blades, making your back arch more, your cheek sinking deeper into the pillow, your ass lifting higher in response.

You barely register the shift behind you—his weight adjusting on the mattress, his thighs sliding between yours—until you feel it:

The blunt, hot press of his cock at your entrance.

You whimper, your fingers tightening into the sheets, your cheek mashed into the pillow, ass lifted high as your swollen, twitching cunt flutters around nothing. You’re already so wet, so open, so used, but that thick head stretching your folds again pulls a sharp, broken gasp from your lips.

He slides the tip up and down your slit once—coating himself in your slick, collecting it like the precious thing it is—and then—

He slams into you.

In one brutal, wet thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, forcing your body to take him, stretch again for his impossible girth, your walls clamping down like they’re trying to refuse—but they don’t. They yield. Barely. Desperately.

You scream.

Your vision flashes white. Your knees nearly buckle beneath you.

The stretch is excruciatingly perfect—a mix of pain and pleasure so intense it steals your breath. Your cunt flutters violently around him, juices flooding down your thighs, soaking the bed beneath.

And he doesn’t give you a second.

He fucks into you.

Hard. Brutal. Deep.

His hips slap against your ass with wet, punishing sounds, cock driving into you over and over again, spearing through the tight grip of your cunt like it’s nothing. His hands hold your hips so tight your skin burns, pulling you back into every thrust, using your body like he owns it.

Because he does.

Your back stays arched, your ass bouncing with every impact, your moans turning to cries, to sobs, to broken little pleads that mean nothing—because you don’t want him to stop.

You want this.

You need this.

Your cunt is gushing, soaked beyond logic, pulsing around him in chaotic spasms that only drive him faster.

He groans behind you, filthy and low, his breath ragged, sweat dripping onto your back as he fucks you like you were meant to be taken from behind.

“Fucking—perfect—” he growls, each word punctuated by another violent thrust. “So tight—so wet—so ready to be bred.”

Your orgasm builds again—somehow. You don’t even know how your body has anything left, but it does. You feel it like a rising scream, coiling in your belly, dragging you toward another edge you swore you’d already fallen from.

And he knows.

He feels it in your cunt—how it tightens, how it pulses.

And he chases it.

He fucks you harder, the sound of skin slapping skin wet and lewd and endless, your moans turning into screams again, your vision gone to stars as he ruins you from behind.

His hands find your shoulders now—gripping them, slamming you back onto his cock with every thrust, using your body like a toy, like a vessel, like a whore who asked to be ruined.

You did.

And now, he’s delivering.

The world doesn’t feel real anymore. Everything is rhythm, motion, heat. His cock driving into you over and over—deep and brutal, dragging across every hypersensitive inch of your walls. Your body is already ruined, already wrung out, but he doesn’t stop. His pace is punishing, merciless, and your mind can’t keep up.

You’re drooling into the pillow. Eyes glassy, lips parted, breath sobbing from your lungs in short, frantic gasps. Your cunt is a mess—gushing slick with every thrust, stretched to its limit, used.

And your voice?

It’s gone.

Replaced by incoherent babble.

“Mmm—ah! Hoonie—fuck—so deep—please—too much, I—ah!, I can’t—I—”

He doesn’t slow. Doesn’t even falter. His grip on your hips is brutal, fingertips digging into your flesh, slamming you back onto his cock with a force that makes your ass bounce and your body jolt. He’s growling behind you now, panting like an animal in rut, his cock so hard inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half.

And your brain breaks.

The pleasure is too much. The fullness is too much. The sound of him, the feel of him, the need building in your chest—it all breaks open into one singular thought:

“Fuck—feed from me!” you scream.

It rips from your throat—sudden, raw, desperate.

“Hoonie—please—bite me—feed from me again, drink from me—fuck!, I need it, please, please, please, please—!”

Your hands claw at the sheets. Your body arches, thighs trembling, cunt clenching around his cock like you’re trying to pull the bite from him.

And behind you—you feel him freeze.

Just for a breath.

Then his voice, low and wrecked:

“You want me to feed again?”

You nod wildly, tears in your eyes, your body twitching and shivering under him. Your voice cracks into sobs:

“Yes! I need you to—I-I need to feel it, Hoonie please, I can’t—I need it—drink from me while you fuck me, I-I want to give you everything—please take everything, please—!”

His hand slides from your hip to your throat, tilting your head back and exposing your neck. He growls against your throat. Not the cold, controlled sound of a predator.

It’s giddy.

Almost playful.

“God,” he pants. “Listen to you… begging for my bite like a good little toy.”

You whimper, breath catching. Your hands scrabble against the mattress, nails clawing for something to ground you, anything to hold on to as he keeps you right on the edge of unraveling.

He’s still inside you.

So deep.

His cock is throbbing, thick, soaked in your slick, buried to the hilt inside your wrecked, overstimulated cunt. Without slipping out, he moves.

One of his hands grips your waist. The other slides beneath your stomach, pulling you up slightly. And then—

He shifts position.

Still behind you, still connected, but now he plants one foot on the mattress, rising into a half-kneel, half-squat.

And the angle—gods—

Your mouth drops open.

His cock grinds deeper now, dragging against your front wall with every thrust, hitting something dangerous, something brutal. His new position gives him total leverage—power and angle and reach—and he uses it.

He thrusts.

Hard.

Sharp.

Deep.

And you shriek.

Your vision swims. Your mouth trembles. Your legs go limp beneath you, your back forced into an even deeper arch. Every nerve in your cunt fires at once—blazing—as his cock spears into you with obscene precision.

He moans now—high and shameless, the sound of a man with a woman wrapped perfectly around him, wet and ruined and his.

“Fuck, you feel that?” he gasps, his voice cracking with laughter, feral delight in every word. “This little cunt’s never letting me go again.”

You babble something—words melted into moans—but he doesn’t slow. Doesn’t care.

His foot plants harder, thrusts sharper, slamming into you from beneath. Your body jolts with every impact. Your breasts sway. Your back arches perfectly, your neck still exposed to his mouth, waiting.

And he revels in it.

He hovers there for a moment, mouth open just over your skin, his fangs dragging along your throat, not biting yet—teasing. The tension of his breath, the heat of his cock, the stretch—it all blends into something unbearable.

“You begged for it,” he says. “So tell me again, love…”

His hips grind forward, cock grinding into your soaked walls.

“Tell me whose girl you are.”

His thrusts grow crueler.

Deeper. Sharper.

Each one lands with a wet slap, your ass slamming back into his hips as he drives himself into you from below, one foot planted firm on the bed, the other knee grounded for leverage. Your body jolts with every impact, breasts swaying, skin slick with sweat, your moans turning into broken sobs of overstimulation.

And still—he doesn’t bite.

Not yet.

He’s waiting.

Hovering over your throat, fangs dragging along your pulse like he’s tasting your fear, your surrender, your worship.

“You begged me to feed,” he growls into your skin, his cock grinding in deeper with the next thrust. “So say it. Say who you belong to.”

You’re sobbing now, cunt clenching, your legs trembling.

But you speak.

“Yours—I’m yours—Hoonie, I’m yours, I’ve always been—”

He grunts, fucking you harder.

“Say it again.”

You scream.

“I’m your girl!” you cry. “I’m your—fuck—I’m your toy, your meal, your whore—please! Please bite me—feed from me again, I’m yours, I’m yours—!”

That’s all it takes.

He snaps.

With a growl that’s half lust, half unholy hunger, his fangs pierce your throat in a single, savage motion. No warning. No gentleness. Just teeth sinking in right where your pulse pounds the loudest.

You wail.

Your back arches impossibly tight. Your cunt explodes around him—clenching, pulsing, gushing as your orgasm detonates in the same instant his fangs break your skin. The pleasure is blinding—a burst of white-hot light behind your eyes, your walls fluttering wildly around his cock, milking him, soaking him, screaming for him.

And he drinks.

Gods, he drinks—deep and steady, groaning against your throat as your blood pours into his mouth, as your body twitches and clenches and gives.

You feel the pull. You feel the bond—the ache in your womb, the twist in your soul, the devotion that burns like fire beneath your skin.

He’s not fucking you anymore.

He’s using you.

Feeding and fucking and owning you all at once, your body trembling, overstimulated, your breath stuttering through parted lips as you try to survive the dual invasion.

Your body is in chaos—shaking, clenching, gushing. Your cunt contracts around his cock in wild, erratic pulses, and then—like a dam breaking—you squirt. A sudden, hot release rushes from deep inside you, soaking his thighs, splashing against his stomach, dripping down the insides of your legs.

And that’s when he loses it.

You feel it before he even moves—his entire body tensing, his cock twitching violently inside you, so deep, so thick, so full—

Then he groans.

A deep, guttural, wrecked sound that vibrates against your throat as his hips slam into you one last time.

He buries himself to the hilt.

And he cums.

You feel it—hot and thick, a flood of heat spilling into your womb, wave after wave as his cock throbs and empties inside you. It’s not a release. It’s a claim.

You gasp—sharp and high—as his seed fills you, stretching the already ruined ache inside you wider, deeper, hotter. Your cunt is still spasming, milked dry and still milking him for more. Every pulse from him matches a pulse in your clit, every twitch of his cock pressing more heat inside you.

And gods—there’s so much.

You feel it flooding you. Dripping back out around the base of his cock, running down your thighs, mixing with your slick and sweat and scent. You’re overflowing with him.

And through it all—he’s still drinking.

His fangs are still deep in your throat, his lips sealed tight, your blood sliding down his tongue, into his chest, into the very core of him.

It feeds him.

It connects you.

And in that moment—flesh locked to flesh, blood flowing, his cum flooding your cunt—you don’t just feel taken.

You feel chosen.

He growls again—quieter now, weaker, spent—and finally, finally, his mouth releases your neck.

He licks the wound slowly, reverently, sealing it with a kiss, then rests his forehead against your back, both of you panting, trembling, wrecked.

He’s still inside you.

Still leaking into you.

And all you can feel is this:

You are full. You are claimed. You are his.

You can’t move.

You’re limp beneath him, your body trembling with aftershocks, every muscle twitching from the inside out. Your skin is wet—sweat, slick, blood, his release. Your thighs ache from how wide he forced you open. Your cunt is throbbing—raw and filled and fluttering around his cock, still buried so deep it feels like he’s part of your body now.

And he’s still inside you.

You feel him—hard still, thick, even softened just slightly, he’s overwhelming. He’s not pulling out. He’s not letting anything go. His hands still grip your hips, now gentler, but firm. Holding you there. Holding you in place.

And then—

He shifts his weight, leans over your back.

You whimper, a fragile noise, and his body presses against yours, skin on skin, cock lodged deep inside your twitching cunt. He drapes over you like a blanket of heat, fangs brushing your shoulder now, his voice low, thick, dripping with the afterglow of pleasure and pride.

“Perfect,” he murmurs.

You shiver beneath him.

“Look at you,” he whispers against your ear. “Still clenching. Still dripping. So full of me.”

You moan, weak and broken, your body twitching with the reminder—his cum leaking out around his cock, sliding down your thighs, your pussy fluttering in soft aftershocks that just won’t stop.

He rolls his hips once—just a slow grind, not even a thrust—and you sob into the pillow.

“Sensitive?” he teases gently. “You wanted to be fucked like an animal in heat, didn’t you?”

You nod, breath caught in your throat, tears slipping down your cheeks—not from pain, but from sheer overwhelm.

His hand slides to your stomach, palm resting over the low curve just above your womb. He presses there, firm, possessive.

“You’re holding so much of me,” he whispers, almost in awe. “My girl.”

Another slow roll of his hips.

Another broken cry from your lips.

And he moans softly, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he feels your cunt squeeze around him again.

“Keep me inside,” he breathes. “Let me stay here. Let me watch what I’ve made you.”

And you do.

You stay just like that—cunt stuffed full, body limp, back arched, cheek to the pillow—his. His cock still pulsing inside you, his hands resting on your trembling skin, his voice low and reverent.

“You’re mine now,” he murmurs. “Inside and out.”

He doesn’t move for a long time.

He stays there—cock still buried inside your ruined, pulsing cunt—his weight pressed over your back, his hands gentle now, resting on your hips, stroking lazy, reverent circles into your damp skin.

You’re still trembling.

Your body is sore. Sensitive. Soaked in sweat and slick, and him. His cum leaks from your stretched hole in thick, slow drips, pooling between your thighs, seeping into the sheets—but he doesn’t pull out.

He won’t.

Not yet.

He groans low in his chest, head dipped between your shoulder blades, voice breathless and awed.

“Still so warm,” he murmurs, hips giving a subtle, instinctive roll that makes your breath catch. “Still milking me like you want every last drop.”

You whimper, weak, your fingers twitching against the sheets.

And he smiles.

Not cruel. Not mocking.

Proud.

His hand moves up, over your back, then down again—slow, soft, possessive.

“Mine,” he breathes again. “Every inch of you.”

He finally shifts—gently this time—pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he slowly lowers you both down, careful not to slip out. You whimper as he brings your bodies down together, side by side now, his cock still buried deep as he wraps himself around you.

You feel caged. Kept. Held.

And you’ve never felt safer.

He nuzzles into your neck, brushing a kiss to the healing bite mark on your throat, then another to your jaw, your temple, your sweat-damp hair.

You’re still trembling in his arms, cunt fluttering faintly around him, overstimulation fading into a full-body hum.

And he adores it.

“Shh,” he whispers, one hand sliding to your stomach, resting possessively over your womb. “You did so well for me, little one.”

You sigh—tired, bliss-heavy, floating.

“You let me break you,” he murmurs against your ear, “and you’re still here. Letting me stay inside you. Letting me hold you.”

His voice cracks slightly, fangs gone, his hunger sated.

“You’re everything.”

His hand strokes your thigh, sticky and wet and trembling beneath his touch. You feel the mess between your legs—the slick of your orgasms, his seed still leaking out in hot pulses around his cock—and you don’t flinch.

You love it.

You love him.

And in the soft silence that follows, he whispers one last thing—low and reverent, meant only for you:

“I’ll never take from anyone else again.”

2K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

OMYYYYGOISSHHHHH!!!?!! THIS MY FAVE TROUPE SO FAR AMONG THIS SERIES 🥹 HEARTS EVERYWHERE ❤️💗💙💕🥰🫶🏻♾️

Crawling Back To You ☆ 이희승

“exes to lovers,” - enha campus series

✮ You both swore it was over—again—but somehow, it’s always one of you at the other’s door, breathless and breaking. It’s toxic, it’s inevitable, and no matter how far you run, you both end up crawling back to each other. ✉️ wc. - 이희승 x f reader

🏷️ @kristynaaah @firstclassjaylee @chvconn3 @wonzzziezzzz @sheseung @blvengene @gvtdoll @a3r4-for3ver @sunghoon-cam @luvksnn @aaaaarmiiiiin @blckorchidd @marimariiisblog @pinknjm @starniras @dearestdreamies @bloomiize @doririsstuff @isagistar @rairaiblog @steddie-steddie @melodiessvy @starboy-library @deluluscenarios

Everyone at Seoul University knew your name—and not because you were loud or flashy. No, it was because you were his.

You and Heeseung were the couple people talked about in whispers behind lecture halls and in dorm stairwells. The kind of pair that made others stare, wondering how something so picture-perfect could exist outside of a drama.

He was the golden boy—top of his class in business, vocals that melted through the walls of the music building, and a face that made professors and students alike do a double-take. And then there was you. Quiet but sharp-tongued, fiercely independent, the one person who never swooned at his charm.

Maybe that’s why he chased you so hard.

It started with harmless teasing during your shared elective. Heeseung always had something to say, and you always had something sharper to throw back. People thought you hated each other. The truth was—you couldn’t stop looking at each other.

By the end of the semester, you were inseparable. Studying under cherry blossom trees, eating late-night tteokbokki by the Han River, sneaking into the music room just to hear him sing something only you got to hear.

“You’re it for me,” he whispered one night, arms around your waist, your head on his chest. “You know that, right?”

You did. You knew it.

But what no one saw—what even you ignored—was the fire underneath it all. The way love started to sound like accusations. The way you started counting the hours he took to reply. The way he noticed every guy who looked at you. The way you started to like when he got jealous.

And before anyone else could notice the cracks, you were already learning how to smile through the breaks.

The first real fight happened on a Thursday.

You’d forgotten about some lame mixer your mutual friend had invited you both to, and when you bailed last minute to cram for an econ exam, he didn’t take it well.

“You always have an excuse,” he snapped, arms crossed, his voice low but tight with frustration. “Do you even want to be with me, or is this just something you do when it’s convenient?”

You blinked, stunned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Heeseung ran a hand through his hair, pacing the small study room you’d claimed. “It means I’m always making time for you. Always showing up. And you? You don’t even try.”

You stood up, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m not going to blow off my future for a night of watching you flirt with girls who laugh too hard at your jokes.”

The words hit their mark. His jaw clenched. “So that’s what this is? You don’t trust me now?”

You crossed your arms. “Should I?”

That night ended with slammed doors, unread texts, and a cold walk back to your dorm. But the next day? He was waiting by your class building with your favorite coffee and a half-hearted apology wrapped in a crooked smile. You took it. You always did.

Because no matter how bad it got, something about being with him felt impossible to let go of.

But fights like that kept happening—growing sharper, louder. You broke up once over a dumb Instagram comment. Got back together the next week after one too many drinks and a shared cab home. Then broke up again when he saw you talking to some guy from your lit class.

“You love the attention,” he said, venom laced behind the coolness in his tone.

“And you love being right,” you spat back.

Still, somehow, by sunrise, you’d be curled up in his bed again. Your clothes on the floor. His breath warm against your neck. His name a ghost on your lips.

It was toxic. It was exhausting. It was everything.

And you weren’t ready to let it go.

Neither was he.

Sunoo stormed into the café just off campus, eyes wide and expression dramatic as ever, practically vibrating with the need to spill. Jake, his girlfriend, and Sunghoon were already seated near the window, mid-conversation when Sunoo dropped his bag onto the chair beside Jake and huffed loud enough for the whole place to turn.

Jake raised a brow. “Let me guess. They fought again?”

Sunoo gave him a look. “Fought? Jake, it was like watching a K-drama unfold in real time—but with worse lighting and way more swearing.”

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, arms folded, expression unreadable. “What happened now?”

Sunoo clutched his chest like the memory physically pained him. “Okay, so apparently Heeseung didn’t text Y/N back for like, five hours, even though she knows he saw her story, right? And she was already annoyed because she saw him walking around campus with that girl from his marketing group—what’s her name, Soojin? The one with the weird lip gloss?”

Jake’s girlfriend made a face. “Ew, her?”

“Exactly,” Sunoo said, pointing dramatically. “So Y/N confronts him outside the library, and he acts all confused, like ‘Why are you always accusing me?’ And she’s like, ‘Because you never take responsibility!’ and boom, they’re yelling in front of the vending machines like it’s their personal stage.”

Jake sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “How long did it last this time?”

“Long enough for me to finish my bubble tea and start a new playlist.”

Sunghoon glanced out the window, deadpan. “And they’re back together already?”

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Give it twenty-four hours. Heeseung’s probably already typing a three-paragraph apology with a sad playlist link attached.”

Jake chuckled under his breath. “You’d think they’d get tired of the drama.”

Sunoo picked up Jake’s drink and took a sip without asking. “They won’t. You know why? Because they don’t know how to quit each other. And honestly? I’m sick of being the audience to their off-brand Romeo and Juliet sequel.”

Jake’s girlfriend grinned. “You say that now, but you’ll be the first one texting Y/N for updates.”

Sunoo didn’t even deny it. “Obviously. Someone’s gotta document this mess.”

What’s even crazier? Heeseung literally caught you making out with Jay in the janitor’s room—and somehow, you were back together in less than seventy-two hours.

You don’t even remember why it happened. Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was the way Jay looked at you like he actually wanted to listen instead of win. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way Heeseung had ignored you for two days straight after yet another stupid fight over a party you didn’t even want to go to.

You’d kissed Jay out of spite. Or desperation. Or both. It didn’t even last five minutes.

But then the door creaked open.

And there he was.

Heeseung, standing in the doorway like something out of a nightmare. His expression wasn’t anger at first—it was disbelief. Like he couldn’t even register what he was seeing. Then came the fury, slow and sharp, rising behind his eyes like a storm.

Jay had the decency to back off, muttering something about not knowing you were still together. Heeseung didn’t say a word. Not one. He just stared at you—like he didn’t know who you were anymore. Like maybe you didn’t, either.

You thought that was it. The end.

But it wasn’t.

Because three days later, he showed up at your door at 1:12 a.m., hoodie over his head, eyes red-rimmed, and voice barely a whisper.

“I hate that I still love you.”

And instead of slamming the door in his face like you swore you would… you let him in.

Because that’s what you two do.

You hurt each other. You leave.

And then you always—always—come back.

And then, of course, you made out.

It started slow—like neither of you were sure if this was a good idea or just another bad habit dressed up like comfort. His hands hovered over your waist like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you anymore, and you just stood there, heart thudding too loud for the silence.

But then he said your name. Soft. Shaky. Like it hurt to say.

That was all it took.

You grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him in, mouths crashing like everything you’d been holding back—anger, guilt, loneliness—was begging for a way out. His lips were warm, familiar, desperate. The way he kissed you was almost apologetic, like he was trying to undo everything with his mouth.

You let him. You kissed him like you hated him for making you feel this way. Like you needed him more than you wanted to admit.

And when you finally pulled back, breathless and wrecked, his forehead pressed against yours, he whispered, “I don’t want anyone else.”

And you hated that you still believed him.

You didn’t sleep that night—not really.

You laid tangled in his arms on your tiny dorm bed, the sheets kicked halfway to the floor, your thoughts louder than the silence between you. Heeseung had fallen asleep with his face buried in your neck, one arm slung over your waist like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

And maybe you would’ve, if you didn’t feel so tired of running.

The next morning, you woke up before him. The light from the window spilled across his face, softening all the sharp edges that came out during fights. For a second, you just stared—at his long lashes, his parted lips, the way his fingers twitched every few seconds like he was dreaming.

It would’ve been so easy to believe that nothing had happened. That Jay hadn’t happened. That all the fights and the screaming and the nights you cried yourself to sleep didn’t exist.

But the bruises under your ribs weren’t from fists—they were from words. From love turned weapon. From trying so hard to be enough for someone who was always halfway out the door.

Still… you didn’t move.

Because when Heeseung opened his eyes and looked at you like you were the only thing that ever made sense, it was enough to make you stay a little longer.

Even if you knew the next storm was already on its way.

You don’t even remember how it started—only how loud it got.

It was after midterms, late evening, the campus buzzing with people blowing off steam. You were supposed to meet him outside the library, but he was thirty minutes late and reeked of beer when he finally showed up.

“I said I’d be here,” he muttered when you confronted him. “What, you don’t trust me to show up now?”

You stared at him, arms folded, heat rising in your throat. “I don’t trust you. Not when you spend more time at parties than actually being present.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair like you were the one being difficult. “Right. Because you’re perfect. Always playing the victim. You ever think maybe you’re the problem?”

That hit harder than you expected.

You laughed—bitter, sharp. “You caught me making out with someone else and still took me back. Don’t talk to me about problems like you’re not the biggest one I’ve ever had.”

His jaw tightened. “You never even apologized.”

“Because you never stopped hurting me,” you snapped. “Every time I looked at you, I felt like I was begging to be chosen.”

He didn’t say anything for a second. Just stared at you with this cold, unreadable expression. Then he shook his head, stepped back like you’d burned him.

“You know what? I’m done. For real this time.”

You didn’t stop him.

Not when he turned around.

Not when he walked away.

Not when you realized he meant it.

And for the first time, you didn’t chase after him.

You just stood there, heart pounding, hands shaking, unsure if you’d ever see him again.

And maybe—maybe this time was really the end.

The days after felt unreal.

Campus kept moving—students cramming for finals, couples holding hands under trees you used to sit beneath, laughter echoing through courtyards like nothing had changed. But everything had.

Heeseung was gone.

Not physically. You still saw him sometimes, across the quad or in the distance at the convenience store. But it was different now. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t even flinch when your eyes met. Just kept walking like you were a stranger he used to know.

The silence was suffocating. Not just from him, but from everyone else too. Your friends stopped asking about him. Even Sunoo didn’t say much anymore—just gave you quiet looks that said I know you’re still hurting, but I won’t make you talk about it.

And maybe that was the worst part. The quiet.

Because you were used to chaos with him—used to yelling, slamming doors, passionate apologies, messy kisses and promises you both knew would be broken. You weren’t used to nothing.

You told yourself it was for the best. That you needed to breathe without him taking up all the air.

But at night, when the world slowed down and there was nothing left to distract you, you wondered if he still thought about you. If he still played the songs he used to sing for you. If he ever regretted walking away.

You didn’t cry. Not really. Maybe once—quiet and quick into your pillow, just enough to let it out before shoving it all back down.

Because this time, it didn’t feel like a break.

It felt like goodbye.

It was two months. Two months of space. Two months of silence. Two months of trying to forget the taste of each other’s names.

You kept expecting him to show up again. Maybe outside your dorm. Maybe in the practice room where he used to pull you into his lap between takes. Maybe drunk at 2 a.m. with slurred apologies and soft I miss yous.

But he didn’t.

And it wasn’t until you finally worked up the nerve to see him—really see him—that you realized why.

You found him outside the campus café, leaning against the wall, sipping on iced coffee like this was just another day. And maybe for him, it was. But for you? Your heart hadn’t beaten this fast in weeks.

“Heeseung.”

He looked up. His eyes softened for a split second, then settled into something unreadable. Calm. Controlled. Different.

You stepped closer. “Can we talk?”

He nodded, motioning for you to sit with him on the bench nearby. It was awkward at first—quiet. The air thick with everything unsaid.

“I’ve been thinking,” you finally said, fingers nervously picking at the seam of your jacket. “About us. About everything.”

Heeseung nodded slowly, gaze fixed on the pavement. “Me too.”

You turned to him, hopeful. “Maybe… maybe we just needed time, right? To figure ourselves out. Maybe we can try again. For real this time.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you—really looked at you—with that same sad tenderness that used to follow every fight.

“I love you,” he said, voice low. “You know that, right?”

Your throat tightened. “Then why—?”

“Because we’re not good for each other,” he interrupted gently. “We bring out the worst in each other. And I can’t keep doing this cycle where I love you and hurt you at the same time.”

You blinked, stunned. “But… we’ve been through so much.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I know it has to stop. I can’t keep being someone who makes you doubt yourself. And I don’t want you to keep being someone who breaks just to hold me together.”

Tears welled up, but you didn’t let them fall. Not this time.

“So that’s it?” you whispered. “You’re just walking away?”

Heeseung shook his head. “No. I’m letting go. So that one day… maybe we’ll find our way back when we’re better people. Not because we need each other. But because we choose each other.”

You didn’t know what to say. You just sat there, stunned, as he stood up and gave you one last look—the kind that said I still love you, even if I can’t stay.

Then he walked away.

And this time…

You let him.

The glow from the fairy lights strung across your ceiling cast a warm haze over the room. You were laying belly-down on your bed, face half-buried in your pillow, while Yeon sat cross-legged beside you, painting her nails some muted sage green. A tub of melting ice cream sat between you, half-forgotten.

“I just don’t get it,” you mumbled, voice muffled. “He said he loved me. Like, what was the point of that speech if he was just gonna disappear off the face of the earth?”

Yeon raised a brow without looking up. “Girl, he literally said it was because you two were toxic for each other.”

You rolled onto your side, scowling. “Yeah, but he could’ve at least tried again. After all this time, nothing? No message, no check-in, not even a story view. It’s like I never existed.”

Yeon let out a sigh, blowing on her nails. “Do you even think he’s over you?”

You blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She finally looked at you, eyes sharp, tone flat. “You think he just flipped a switch and stopped caring? Come on. You guys were obsessed with each other. You still are.”

You groaned, flopping onto your back. “Then why isn’t he doing anything about it?”

Yeon shrugged. “Maybe he’s trying to prove a point. Maybe he’s hurting too. Maybe he thinks you’re the one who should come crawling back this time.”

You stared at the ceiling, biting your lip.

Then Yeon sat up straighter, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Or… hear me out… you could make him care.”

You turned your head slowly. “Yeon.”

She raised her hands innocently. “Not like anything dramatic. Just… see someone else. Post a cute pic. Let him know you’re moving on. If he reacts, there’s your answer. If he doesn’t… maybe it’s time to actually move on.”

You hated that the idea made your stomach flip. Hated that a part of you wanted him to care enough to spiral. To break. To fight for you.

You also hated that Yeon was probably right.

“Heeseung’s not the only one who can play games,” she added, reaching for her phone. “Now. Who’s single, hot, and dumb enough to fake date you for a week?”

And just like that, something in your chest—spite, maybe—snapped into place.

“Fine,” you said, sitting up. “Let’s see if golden boy really let me go.”

Jay was just the right guy to do it.

Handsome, charming, dangerously calm under pressure—and most importantly? Lee Heeseung’s best friend. Or, well… former best friend, maybe. The line had blurred ever since that night in the janitor’s room.

You weren’t exactly close, but you knew Jay. He was the type of guy everyone liked but no one could really read. And when you texted him out of nowhere with a simple, “Can we talk?”, he responded quicker than expected.

You met up behind the arts building, tucked away where no one really bothered to go. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, like he already knew what you were going to ask.

“No,” he said before you could even finish the sentence.

“Jay—”

“I’m not getting involved in whatever mess you and Heeseung have going on again,” he cut in, eyes sharp. “It’s not my thing.”

You took a step closer, lowering your voice. “Please. I just need him to feel something. Anything.”

He exhaled hard, glancing away like he was trying to stay detached. “And what happens when he finds out it’s fake? Or worse, what if he doesn’t react at all?”

“Then I’ll know,” you said, quieter now. “I just… I need to know if he’s really done.”

Jay didn’t say anything at first. He just stared at you for a long moment, like he was trying to figure out what kind of mess he was about to walk into. Again.

Then he sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and muttered under his breath, “This is a bad idea.”

You smiled—just a little. “So that’s a yes?”

Jay shook his head, but there was the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “You owe me for this.”

And just like that, the plan was in motion.

A fake relationship. A test. A game.

All to see if the boy you still loved would finally come crawling back—

Or watch you walk away.

It started small.

Just a simple story.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing that screamed revenge.

Just a quiet photo of you and Jay’s hands—intertwined, resting on the café table between two half-empty iced americanos.

No faces. No captions. Just the tag.

@jaypark.

You hesitated before posting it, thumb hovering over the “Your Story” button for a second too long. But then you tapped it. Sent it out into the world like bait.

And waited.

Within minutes, the views started stacking. Yeon replied with a row of screaming emojis. Sunoo sent you the skull. And then, like clockwork, his name appeared at the bottom of the viewers list.

Lee Heeseung.

No message. No reaction. Just a silent little view. But that was enough.

He saw it.

He saw you—your hand in someone else’s.

His best friend’s.

Your heart beat just a little faster. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was victory. Maybe it was that part of you that still wondered if he’d come running.

And across campus, not even an hour later, Heeseung was already plotting his move.

Because if you wanted a war, he’d give you one.

And this time, he wouldn’t be the one left watching.

Heeseung didn’t sleep much that night.

The image of your hand in Jay’s—Jay’s—looped through his mind like a broken record. He couldn’t tell if he was more furious or just sick. Like something was lodged deep in his chest and no amount of pacing or punching his pillow would get it out.

By morning, he wasn’t even mad. Just numb. Tired. But there was still something buzzing under his skin, and he knew exactly where to take it.

He found Jay in the gym locker room after class, slipping his duffel onto the bench like nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t just posted up with you on Instagram like it was no big deal.

Heeseung walked up behind him, quiet but sharp, voice low and flat. “You serious?”

Jay turned, eyebrows lifting slightly. “About what?”

Heeseung scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You and Y/N.”

Jay paused—just a beat too long—and that was all Heeseung needed.

“So it’s real,” Heeseung muttered, stepping forward. “You’re actually dating her now?”

Jay looked at him. Steady. Cool. Just like you asked him to be.

“…Yeah.”

Heeseung clenched his jaw. “Right after everything. You think that’s not messed up?”

Jay shrugged once, slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he should keep going or drop the act. “Things change, Heeseung.”

And somewhere in that moment—somewhere in Jay’s calm delivery and blank stare—Heeseung believed it.

You moved on.

With him.

And you didn’t even flinch.

Heeseung didn’t say anything else. Just let out a bitter laugh and shook his head before walking off, fists tight at his sides.

Jay sat down once he was gone, letting out a slow breath as he stared at the locker in front of him.

He texted you two minutes later:

he thinks it’s real. you sure about this?

And all you replied was:

yeah. keep going.

Because if he wanted to believe you’d moved on,

You’d make sure he felt every second of it.

Sunoo wasn’t snooping.

Okay—maybe a little.

He’d just been passing through the locker room looking for his water bottle (which he definitely left on the bench last night, thank you very much) when he caught a glimpse of Jay hunched over his phone.

Nothing suspicious. Until he saw the name at the top of the screen.

Y/N.

And then he saw the text:

“he thinks it’s real. you sure about this?”

Sunoo’s entire body froze. He ducked out of sight just as Jay hit send, his heart thumping with secondhand guilt.

So it’s fake.

She’s faking it. She’s really faking it.

He waited until Jay left, then took off in a straight sprint across campus. He found Heeseung behind the rec center, leaning against the fence with his hoodie pulled low over his face and that same blank stare he’d been wearing since the Instagram story dropped.

Sunoo didn’t even catch his breath.

“Heeseung.”

Heeseung looked up, annoyed. “What now?”

“She’s not really with Jay.”

Silence.

“What?”

Sunoo took a step closer. “I saw Jay texting her. He said you think it’s real and asked if they should keep going. Y/N told him yes. It’s all for show.”

Heeseung just stared at him, lips parting slightly. “You’re sure?”

“I read it, Heeseung. She’s trying to mess with your head. And you’re letting her.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything for a moment. He just looked down, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek like he was chewing on every terrible thought in his head.

“She really went that far?” he muttered. “Dragged Jay into it?”

Sunoo nodded. “And you’re gonna let her win?”

A beat of silence. Then—

“No,” Heeseung said, standing up straighter. “I’m not.”

And just like that, the idea clicked.

If she wanted to play pretend, he’d give her something to choke on.

The very next day, Y/N’s feed lit up with his story this time.

Heeseung, smirking at the camera, with a girl beside him—leaning into his shoulder, her fingers brushing his.

Your ex-best friend.

Ina.

Tagged. Smiling. And just sweet enough to sting.

You almost dropped your phone.

Because if this was a game— He’d just made his next move.

You didn’t even knock before you barged into Yeon’s dorm, practically throwing open the door like a hurricane. Your phone was still in your hand, and the red notification bubble next to Instagram made your heart race in ways you didn’t want to admit.

“Y/N—what the hell?” Yeon jumped up from the couch, startled, and then her eyes caught the expression on your face—the tension in your shoulders. The way your jaw clenched.

Without saying a word, you shoved your phone in her face. “Look.”

Yeon blinked, frowning at first, then slowly scrolled through the story that had just gone up. Heeseung, arms draped casually around a girl who definitely wasn’t you, smiling like nothing had happened between the two of you. It only took a second for her to piece it all together—Heeseung’s signature smirk, his usual cocky posture, and the way he was looking down at her as if she belonged there.

Yeon froze, eyes wide.

“What the hell?” she whispered. “Is he serious?”

You exhaled sharply, slumping into the nearest chair. “Apparently. He’s really doing this.”

Yeon scrolled back to the top of the post, trying to find something—anything—that would prove it wasn’t real. But the more she looked, the more it felt like it was. Ina. The same Ina who’d been your best friend just months ago, the same one who knew exactly what buttons to push to get under your skin.

“Wait,” Yeon said, voice sinking low. “You really think he’s doing this to get back at you?”

You looked away, blinking back the sharp sting of embarrassment. “He’s trying to make me jealous. It’s the same thing he’s done every time. But this time, he’s not even pretending to care. He’s moved on—for real—and he’s showing it.”

You stood up suddenly, pacing the small space. “I can’t believe he would post this. Just like that.”

The door clicked open just then, and you froze, expecting it to be Sunoo, or maybe someone else coming to check on you. Instead, it was Jay.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asked, walking in with that casual, easy smile he usually wore.

Without saying anything, you just shoved your phone at him again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate to look at it. The silence between you two stretched long as his gaze scanned over Heeseung’s post. Then his brows furrowed, and he rubbed the back of his neck, visibly unsettled.

“That’s… that’s your ex-best friend.” Jay shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “What’s he even trying to do?”

You watched his face closely, waiting for some kind of reaction, something that would show you if maybe he had a plan too. Maybe he could fix this. But instead, Jay’s face grew darker, and he let out a small laugh—almost nervously.

“Wait,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Sunoo… he was looking over my shoulder yesterday when I texted you.”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

Jay groaned, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated now. “I didn’t think about it, but now it makes sense. He must’ve seen what I was texting you, and then told Heeseung. The timing is too weird, Y/N. He must’ve told him to post that.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought. “You think Sunoo told Heeseung to do this?”

Jay nodded, a frown pulling at his lips. “Yeah. He’s been getting weirdly involved in this. He’s been watching us both too closely.” He paused, gaze drifting away like he was trying to piece things together in his head. “And now Heeseung is doing this. This is… this is his way of pushing us both into a corner. I can feel it.”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. This wasn’t just a post. It wasn’t just about Heeseung and his attempt to make you jealous. This was a game—a game that everyone had already been sucked into, whether they liked it or not.

“You think he’s manipulating all of us?” you whispered, barely able to comprehend how deep this had gone.

Jay gave you a look—half amused, half exasperated. “You know Heeseung. He’s not gonna sit back and let someone mess with him. He always plays dirty. This was probably his idea all along.”

Your mind raced. This was all too much. Too tangled. And the worst part? You felt like you were losing control of something that used to be yours.

You stared at the phone in your hand, the weight of Heeseung’s smirk on the screen staring back at you, daring you to react. You wanted to lash out, to post something in return, to prove that you could move on too. But the truth was, you felt like you were already too deep into a game neither of you should have ever started.

But you couldn’t stop now.

“I guess,” you said, voice colder than you meant it to be, “we’ll just see how far he’s willing to go.”

You were mad.

No—mad mad.

Heeseung thought he was slick? Using Ina of all people?

Fine. Two could play this game. And you were about to flip the entire board.

You had just gotten your nails done earlier that day—clean white French tips with tiny pink bows delicately painted on each ring finger. Cute. Sweet. Deadly.

And it just so happened to be Valentine’s Day.

The most petty, perfect, painfully strategic day of the year.

You texted Jay:

come over. wear black. don’t ask why.

He didn’t question it. By now, he knew better.

An hour later, you were leaning over him in the soft pink glow of your dorm, red lipstick in your hand, and vengeance in your veins. You tilted his face toward yours, studying him like a blank canvas.

“Hold still,” you whispered, then planted a soft, slow kiss on his cheek.

Then another.

Then one near his jaw.

And one by his temple.

Six lipstick marks—perfectly placed.

Jay just sat there, relaxed, one brow slightly raised. “This is for him, huh?”

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t have to.

You straddled his lap, hands gently cupping his cheeks. Your fresh nails—those glossy white tips and innocent pink bows—rested right under his eyes, framing his face with just the right amount of threat disguised as sweetness.

Snap.

One picture.

No caption.

Just @jaypark.

Posted to your story.

You stared at it once, twice. Smirked.

This wasn’t a game anymore.

It was war.

And you had just set the next fire.

Heeseung saw it within minutes.

He wasn’t even on his phone—Jungwon was. The two of them were mid-conversation in the common room, some half-hearted banter about classes and who was buying dinner, when Jungwon suddenly froze, eyes locked on his screen like he’d just witnessed something unholy.

“Dude…” he said slowly, cautiously. “You might wanna see this.”

Heeseung reached over without thinking, grabbed the phone, and there it was.

Your story.

His chest tightened immediately.

Jay.

His best friend—or what was left of that friendship—smiling, relaxed, and covered in your kiss marks like a walking Valentine’s card. Your hands—those cute little nails with the pink bows—framing his face so gently it looked like a scene from a damn K-drama.

Tag: @jaypark.

No caption.

Didn’t need one.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Heeseung leaned back against the couch slowly, staring at the screen like it might change if he blinked hard enough. But it didn’t. It stayed burned in his vision, red and soft and sweet in the most infuriating way.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

Heeseung let out a cold laugh—short, humorless. “She really went there.”

“You gonna ignore it?”

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. He stood up, hands in his pockets, jaw tense. “She wants a reaction,” he muttered. “She wants me to do something.”

Jungwon tilted his head. “So… are you going to?”

Heeseung paused in the doorway, eyes flicking back toward the screen one last time. He could still see the imprint of your lips on Jay’s skin, your nails against his jaw, like a photo burned into film.

“She wants war?” he muttered under his breath.

“Fine.”

And just like that, he pulled out his phone.

Because if this was how you wanted to play—

He was done holding back.

Heeseung’s fingers were already flying across his screen.

u still down to help? he texted her.

Ina replied in less than a minute.

always. what’s the move?

I need a story. Your place. You post it first. Tag me. Make it obvious.

obvious like…? she replied, with a winking emoji.

He smirked.

red lips. hands on me. I’ll handle the rest.

Within thirty minutes, he was at her apartment. The lights were low, her place smelled like overpriced perfume, and she was already waiting in a cropped sweater and glossed lips that matched your exact shade of red.

She moved fast—placed a kiss at the corner of his jaw, just below his ear, then added a second one right under his cheekbone. Two bold red prints. Then she sat sideways across his lap, her long nails trailing down the side of his neck, and pulled out her phone.

“Smile,” she whispered, grinning.

Click.

The photo was even worse—better—than yours.

More skin.

More closeness.

More everything.

She posted it right away. No caption. Just a tag.

@lee.heedeung

Within ten seconds, his notification lit up.

He tapped it, viewed the story once, and then hit “Add to Story” like it was muscle memory.

You’d started this round, but he was going to finish it.

And when his story refreshed—Ina draped over him like she was exactly where she belonged, her kiss stains darker, bolder, more deliberate—he didn’t even hesitate to add the final touch:

“She’s not the only one who moved on.”

Just words.

But he knew you’d see it.

He wanted you to.

You couldn’t think straight anymore. The war was on, and it felt like everything—every move, every word—was just pushing you deeper into a place you didn’t recognize. But you were determined. You were done playing games with Heeseung. You wanted to make sure Jay knew you weren’t trying to replace anything. This wasn’t a rebound. It couldn’t be.

You couldn’t let him see you fall apart again. You just couldn’t.

So you showed up at Jay’s dorm, heart racing, fingers trembling as you knocked on his door.

When he opened it, you didn’t hesitate. You barely even processed the look of surprise in his eyes before your lips were on his. It was desperate. It was reckless. Your hands were already pulling him closer, feeling the weight of the day’s chaos pressing against your chest. His lips tasted like mint, like the cold air outside, and for a second—just a second—it felt real. It felt like something could finally be simple.

But when you reached for his shirt, tugging it off over his head, he froze. His hands gripped your wrists, pulling them gently away from his chest, and pushed you back just enough to meet your eyes.

“Wait—wait,” he said, his voice tight, his breath shaky but controlled. “I don’t want to be your rebound, Y/N.”

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Jay shook his head, stepping back just a little. “I’m not like that. You don’t need to use me to get back at Heeseung.”

His words felt like ice water, but you weren’t ready to let go yet. You grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward you, and for the first time, you felt yourself getting lost in the desperation. You didn’t want to feel like this anymore.

“I’m not trying to get back at him,” you whispered, voice pleading. “I swear, Jay. I don’t want him. I want you.” You paused, searching his face for any sign that he believed you. “Please… I need this. I need you right now.”

Jay looked down at you, his expression torn. “Y/N, think about it. You’re not in the right place right now. You’re hurting, and this is just… this is just—”

“I’m not,” you cut him off, grabbing his face with both hands, forcing him to look at you. “I’m not trying to replace anything. I swear.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes softening just a little. “Then what do you want? What are we doing here, Y/N?”

You took a shaky breath, your voice softer now. “I want to be with you. Not because of Heeseung. Not because of anyone else. Just because I… I want this with you. Please.”

Jay didn’t answer right away, his eyes drifting down to your hands still on his chest. He looked conflicted, like he was weighing your words against something inside himself.

“You’re sure?” he asked quietly, as if he needed reassurance more than you did.

You nodded, eyes locked on his. “I’m sure.”

But even as the words left your lips, you could see the hesitation in his eyes, the doubt still lingering in the way he held you—like he wasn’t sure if he should trust you or himself. You could feel the weight of everything that had happened, everything you were running from. And for a second, you thought he might pull away again.

But he didn’t.

He stayed.

“I just don’t want you to regret this,” he said, his voice a little softer now, but the distance in his gaze still clear.

You swallowed hard, fighting the emotions that rushed up. “I won’t.”

And for the first time in a long time, you were trying to believe that.

You could feel it, deep down. The gnawing ache in your chest. You told Jay you weren’t trying to use him, that you weren’t replacing anyone, that you wanted this—wanted him—but the truth was, you weren’t over Heeseung. Not by a long shot.

And you knew Jay could probably feel it too, even if you didn’t say it out loud. You could see it in his eyes as he pulled away slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders like he wasn’t sure whether to hold you or let you go.

“Y/N,” Jay whispered, voice steady but soft, like he was giving you space to breathe. “Are you sure about this? You say you’re not using me, but I don’t want to be a… a distraction while you’re still caught up with someone else.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. Caught up with someone else. You wanted to shake your head and tell him that he was wrong, that Heeseung was nothing but a memory now. But the truth was staring you right in the face, and you couldn’t lie to him—or to yourself.

You stepped back, taking in a shaky breath, trying to fight the rising tide of emotions in your chest. You had pushed yourself so hard to move on, to fight back against Heeseung’s hold on you, but deep down, it wasn’t working. You could tell yourself you were done with him. You could kiss Jay. You could hold his hand and pretend like you were over it. But you weren’t.

“I… I don’t know,” you finally admitted, voice small, almost fragile. “I’m not really over him, Jay.”

The words felt like poison on your tongue, but there was a strange relief in saying them aloud. You couldn’t keep pretending. Not to him. Not to yourself.

Jay’s face softened, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes—something that cut deeper than you expected. He took a step back, hands still resting at his sides like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

“You need time, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “And I’m not gonna be the guy who waits around while you’re still stuck on someone else. You deserve more than that.”

The finality in his voice made your stomach twist. You wanted to argue, to beg him to stay, but you knew it wouldn’t be fair. Jay deserved someone who could give him their whole heart.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling the tears you’d been holding back threaten to spill.

Jay nodded, giving you a sad, understanding smile. “You don’t have to apologize. But you need to figure things out—before you drag anyone else into your mess.”

And just like that, the moment was over. He stepped away from you, and you were left standing there, feeling more lost than ever. Because no matter how much you wanted to move on, the truth was clear.

You weren’t over Heeseung.

And you didn’t know if you ever would be.

You stormed back into your dorm, slamming the door behind you with a force that rattled the walls. Your mind was a whirlwind of frustration and guilt. Jay had been right. You weren’t over Heeseung. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, you just couldn’t shake the hold he still had on you.

You flopped onto your bed, grabbing your phone without thinking. Your fingers scrolled through your feed like it was a reflex, your heart pounding in your chest.

Then, it happened.

You saw it.

Heeseung’s story.

The notification flashed, and your breath hitched. You had been trying to avoid him, trying to move on, but there he was, like a goddamn magnet pulling your attention. You tapped it without a second thought.

And then you saw it.

Heeseung. Smiling.

But it wasn’t just a simple smile. No, this time he was holding hands with Ina, and she was pressed so close to him you could see the way they were looking at each other—soft, intimate, like they belonged in each other’s space.

The red lipstick marks weren’t just on his cheek anymore. Now, it looked like she had kissed the side of his neck, and he was almost wearing it like a badge. Proud, like he was showing the world that he was finally moving on. Finally free.

You stared at the story, unable to tear your eyes away. You wanted to swipe up and type something—anything—that would prove you weren’t bothered, that you didn’t care. But deep down, it stung. It stung in a way you couldn’t describe.

Was this still a game to him? Or did Heeseung move on.

And you were left sitting in your dorm, with the weight of everything crashing down on you.

You forced yourself to swipe past his story, ignoring the way your chest tightened, but it didn’t help. It never did.

What was worse?

You realized you were still checking his story as if you were waiting for a sign that he cared.

For the next few hours, Heeseung’s stories kept coming.

One after the other.

It was almost like a countdown, each post more intimate than the last. Him and Ina laughing in a cafe. Him and Ina walking side by side in the park. Her hand resting on his chest, his arm draped around her waist. Each photo, each story, carefully curated—designed to show you what you could’ve had, what you didn’t have anymore.

But here’s the thing: Heeseung expected you to do the same.

He was waiting for you to upload something—anything—with Jay, to prove to him that you weren’t bothered. To make a statement, to show that you were moving on too.

He thought you’d retaliate, maybe post a cute picture of you and Jay in the same way. Maybe make it obvious—show him you didn’t care, that you were fine.

But there was silence.

Your phone was quiet. No stories. No tagged photos. Nothing.

He checked again. And again. Still nothing.

He frowned. He refreshed your profile, then your stories. It was the same as it had been hours ago. Nothing.

What the hell?

Heeseung was confused. He had expected you to fire back—he had expected this whole thing to be like the rest of your relationship: a series of petty back-and-forths that always led you both back into each other’s arms.

But this time, there was no response. No tag. No post. No picture of you with Jay.

Why wasn’t she reacting?

His mind was buzzing. Was it a game? Was she waiting for him to respond first? Was she trying to play it cool?

He couldn’t understand it.

The silence was louder than anything.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Heeseung wasn’t sure what you were thinking. And that scared him more than anything.

It was past 2 AM when Heeseung heard the knock.

At first, he thought he imagined it. The sound was soft, hesitant, like whoever was on the other side wasn’t sure if they even wanted to be there. He lay still for a second, blinking at the ceiling, unsure if he should even get up—until it came again, this time louder. More frantic.

He rolled out of bed, threw on a hoodie, and padded to the door with a tired sigh. The hallway was dark, quiet. Everyone else in the dorms was either asleep or gone for the weekend.

But when he opened the door—his heart sank.

You were standing there, mascara smudged under your eyes, hair messily pulled to the side, a half-empty bottle of soju dangling from your hand. Your lips were red, like you’d been biting them too hard. And your eyes… they were glassy. Teary.

You looked broken.

“Y/N—” he started, stepping forward instinctively.

But you shoved him—hard.

Or at least, you tried. You punched at his chest with your tiny, shaky fists, but it wasn’t forceful. It was clumsy, uneven, and as soon as your hands hit him, your strength gave out.

“You—You asshole,” you slurred, fists still pressing weakly against his chest. “You don’t get to be over me—like that. Like it was nothing.”

Heeseung didn’t move. He let you hit him. Let you press against him like you were trying to beat the heartbreak out of your own body.

“Why didn’t you come back?” you cried, voice cracking. “You always come back.”

His hands hovered for a second—unsure if he should hold you or not—but then you collapsed. Right into him. Your knees buckled, your bottle clattered to the ground, and your face crumpled against his chest as the sobs started coming, hard and fast.

“I hate you,” you whispered, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his hoodie. “I hate you so much, Heeseung.”

He finally wrapped his arms around you, slowly, gently, like you were made of glass.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know, baby.”

The moment the word slipped out—baby—you just shattered.

You pulled back, looking up at him, your face streaked with tears. “Don’t—Don’t call me that,” you whispered, though your hands were still clinging to him. “You don’t get to call me that if you don’t want me anymore.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, eyes scanning your face, jaw tight. “You think I don’t want you?”

You nodded, quickly, like you were afraid he’d deny it. “You’re with her now. Ina. And you smiled in those pictures like—like I didn’t even matter.”

“You do matter,” he said instantly, voice firmer this time. “You always mattered. I just—” He exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “I thought I was doing the right thing. For both of us.”

You stared at him for a long time, lip trembling. “Then why does it hurt so much?”

Heeseung’s chest twisted. He’d seen you angry, jealous, wild. But this—this version of you—crushed him. You were soft and raw and honest in a way that stripped all his defenses.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I thought letting go would fix us. I thought giving us space would help us come back better.”

You sniffled, wiping your nose against your sleeve like a child. “Then why does it feel like I’m dying?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he’d tell you the truth—that every night he saw your stories, every time he thought about you and Jay, it felt like a blade twisting in his chest. That no matter how many kisses Ina planted on his neck, none of them felt like yours.

Heeseung looked down at you again. You were staring up at him with so much sadness in your eyes, and it physically hurt.

“Do you still love me?” you asked, voice just a whisper.

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You blinked, like you didn’t expect that answer.

“I love you,” he repeated, holding your face now. “I never stopped. But yn, we’re… we’re so fucked up. We keep tearing each other apart.”

“I know,” you whispered. “I know.”

You leaned in again, forehead pressed against his chest, breathing ragged and broken. He kissed the top of your head gently, just once.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“So am I.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You just stood there—his arms around you, your body limp against him, your tears soaking into his hoodie.

Maybe it didn’t fix anything.

Maybe it didn’t change what came next.

But for that moment, it was just the two of you. No stories. No games. No pretending.

Just two broken people—still in love, still hurting—clinging to whatever was left.

Heeseung didn’t let go. Not right away.

You stayed like that—collapsed against him, your sobs slowing to soft, hiccupy breaths, his arms wound tight around your waist like if he let go, you’d vanish entirely.

“Come inside,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, one hand sliding to the back of your head as he pulled you in a little closer. “You’re freezing.”

You nodded weakly against his chest, your legs still wobbly, and he hooked an arm under yours, guiding you carefully inside. The dorm was dim, a faint orange glow spilling from his desk lamp, soft music humming low from a speaker that had been playing long after he forgot to turn it off.

He shut the door behind you and helped you sit on the edge of his bed. You looked around like the room felt unfamiliar—like it wasn’t the same one you used to sneak into at 3AM or sleep in when your dorm felt too suffocating.

You watched him move—quietly, naturally. He brought you a water bottle, then a hoodie you used to steal all the time, dropping it gently onto your lap before crouching in front of you.

“Drink,” he said softly.

You obeyed without a word, sipping just enough to wash the taste of liquor off your lips. Your hands shook slightly, and he noticed, his eyes flickering to your fingers before slowly moving up to your face.

Heeseung exhaled like the weight of everything that had happened tonight was finally settling in. “You shouldn’t have come here like this.”

You looked at him, eyes still puffy and red. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He nodded slowly, like he understood more than he let on. “You always come here when you don’t.”

You laughed under your breath, but it was hollow. “And you always let me crawl back to you.”

Silence.

Heeseung rested his forearms on his knees, fingers laced, eyes locked with yours. “Why tonight, Y/N?”

You looked down at your lap, the hoodie untouched, your hands knotted in your skirt.

“I kept waiting,” you whispered. “For you to come back. For this to be just another fight we’d crawl back from. I thought if I held out long enough, you’d text, or call, or show up at my door again like you always do.”

You glanced up at him. “But you didn’t.”

Heeseung’s jaw flexed. He stayed quiet.

“And I know I messed everything up,” you went on, voice gaining a little more strength. “I dragged Jay into it, I made it worse, I was petty and bitter and angry. But I was hurt, Heeseung. I didn’t know how else to make you feel what I was feeling.”

“I was feeling it,” he said, voice low. “Every fucking second.”

Your throat tightened, and you blinked fast, but the tears still came. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

Heeseung stood up slowly and sat beside you instead, his shoulder brushing yours. He leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

“Because I didn’t want to love you halfway again,” he said. “We kept breaking each other. I thought… if we took time apart, maybe we’d figure our shit out. Maybe we’d finally get it right.”

“And did you?” you asked, eyes burning into him.

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he turned his head, looking at you—really looking.

Your eyeliner was smudged, your lipstick faded, your cheeks still flushed from the crying and alcohol. But to him, you were still you. The same girl who used to fall asleep mid-conversation in his bed. The same girl who used to wear his shirts like they were hers. The same girl who knew how to ruin him and love him in the same breath.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice softer than before. “All I know is that seeing you tonight, standing at my door like that—I’ve never felt more like I still belong to you.”

The silence wrapped around you again, this time a little warmer, a little heavier.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, the alcohol finally wearing off and leaving behind nothing but exhaustion and a dull ache in your chest.

“I’m scared we’re never gonna get it right,” you murmured.

Heeseung turned his head, pressed his lips into your hair. “Me too, yn.”

You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t have to.

Because even if everything between you was a mess—even if you were toxic and chaotic and completely wrong for each other—right now, you were here.

And for tonight, that was enough.

The morning came too quickly.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, only the way Heeseung’s heartbeat felt under your cheek as you curled up beside him on the bed. You must’ve passed out mid-sentence, tears drying on your skin, the room spinning just enough to blur the shame, the ache, the regret.

When you opened your eyes, you were still in his hoodie. His room was quiet except for the hum of the heater, and sunlight slipped through the blinds in pale, thin lines. You didn’t dare move—not yet.

Heeseung was already awake. You could tell from the way his breathing had changed, slower, more deliberate. He was lying beside you, one arm resting behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

You swallowed hard. “You didn’t kick me out.”

He turned his head toward you, his expression unreadable. “Did you think I would?”

You hesitated. “Maybe.”

He didn’t respond to that—just watched you. His eyes flicked to your lips, your cheeks, your fingers tangled in the fabric of his hoodie. His gaze softened for a moment, like he was trying to memorize the way you looked in this exact second.

You sat up slowly, head pounding, throat dry.

“I should go,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

Heeseung sat up too, but he didn’t stop you. Didn’t say stay. And that silence said more than if he had.

You moved to the door, grabbing your phone off his desk. Notifications flooded the screen—messages from Yeon, Jay, a missed call from Sunoo. The real world was already waiting for you, and you weren’t ready.

You turned the doorknob, then paused. “Heeseung.”

He looked up.

You bit your lip. “Last night… was that a mistake?”

He looked like he wanted to say yes. Like maybe the mature thing—the right thing—was to draw the line here and now. End it before the cycle started all over again.

But instead, he just said, “I don’t know.”

You gave him a small nod, like that answer was enough. Like it had to be.

Then you left.

And the thing that gutted you most wasn’t that he didn’t stop you.

It was that you didn’t expect him to.

You didn’t go back to your dorm right away.

Your head was still spinning—half from the hangover, half from everything that had happened the night before. The streets were cold, quiet, students still asleep or buried in weekend study sessions. You walked aimlessly through campus, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, trying to breathe through the fog sitting heavy in your chest.

You replayed the night like a scene on loop—your fists on Heeseung’s chest, the broken way you sobbed into him, the way he held you like you were fragile and still his. How he called you baby without even thinking about it.

And how in the morning, he let you leave.

By the time you got to Yeon’s dorm, your fingers were numb and your heart felt heavier than ever.

She opened the door in an oversized tee and one sock, blinking in confusion. “Y/N?”

You stepped inside without a word, letting the door swing closed behind you. Yeon just stared for a moment, then crossed her arms and said, “Okay. What happened?”

You collapsed onto her bed face-first, groaning into the blanket.

“Was it Jay again?” she asked carefully.

You shook your head.

“Then… Heeseung?”

You let out a broken sound that could’ve been a laugh or a cry. “I slept over.”

Yeon’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“I was drunk,” you mumbled into the blanket. “Showed up at his dorm. Cried like an idiot. Told him everything. Begged him to love me back, basically.”

“Oh my god.” She sat down beside you. “Okay, and?”

“He held me. Let me stay. Called me baby.”

Yeon raised a brow. “And then?”

You turned your head, eyes glassy again. “And then he let me go.”

She didn’t say anything for a second. Just reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Y/N…”

“It hurts,” you whispered. “I thought—when I woke up, I thought maybe this time it meant something. That we could start over. But he just let me leave.”

Yeon looked at you like she didn’t know whether to hug you or shake you. “Because he’s trying, Y/N. He’s trying to be better. For you. For himself. And you’re out here getting drunk and showing up at his door like it’s still the same toxic game.”

You blinked at her, stunned.

“I’m not saying he’s innocent,” she added quickly. “He’s just as bad. You guys were fire and gasoline. But this? What you did last night? You weren’t trying to fix anything. You were trying to set it on fire again just to see if he’d still run through it for you.”

That one stung. Because she wasn’t wrong.

You curled deeper into the blanket, the ache in your chest flaring again. “So what now?”

Yeon sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Now? You stop playing games. You take a real break. Not the kind where you post bait on Instagram and wait for him to bite. A real one. Because if there’s even a chance you two have something worth saving, you need to come back to each other as different people.”

You stayed quiet.

Then, softly, you asked, “Do you think he still loves me?”

Yeon didn’t even hesitate. “God, yes. But I think he’s scared loving you will destroy him again.”

You shut your eyes. And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel angry. Just… empty. Because if you were being honest with yourself?

You were scared of the same thing.

You weren’t good at listening. Especially when it came to Heeseung.

Yeon had begged you to take it seriously this time. To actually give yourself space, to heal, to breathe without him in your orbit. She told you to block his number for a while, to stop checking his Instagram stories, to quit looking for his face in every hallway like he was some phantom that couldn’t let you move on.

You nodded. You agreed. You told her you were going to try.

But you didn’t mean it.

Because it was impossible to “take a break” from someone who lived under your skin. Who you still dreamed about even when you hated him. Who you still saw in every goddamn song, every place on campus that still echoed with the ghosts of the two of you.

So three nights later, you were standing outside his apartment again.

This time, it wasn’t out of drunken impulse or heartbreak-fueled rage. It was worse.

It was loneliness.

It was craving.

It was addiction.

You hadn’t texted him. You didn’t warn him. You stood in front of the door, heart slamming against your ribs, hands shoved into the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You stared at the door like it owed you something.

You almost walked away. Twice.

But then it opened.

Heeseung was standing there in gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, barefoot, hair tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed. The expression on his face flickered from confusion to disbelief to… that familiar ache you always saw in his eyes when he looked at you.

You swallowed hard.

“I—I know I’m not supposed to be here,” you said, voice small. “But I needed to see you.”

He didn’t say anything. He just stepped aside, and that alone said everything.

You walked in slowly, like you were walking back into a dream you didn’t want to wake up from. The apartment was dim again, warm, smelling faintly of laundry detergent and the faint citrus cologne you knew he wore too much of.

He closed the door behind you, leaned against it, and crossed his arms. “Y/N…”

“I know,” you said, holding up a hand. “Don’t say it. Yeon already gave me the whole speech.”

“So why are you here?”

You turned to look at him, eyes heavy, lips parted. “Because I’m not over you.”

Heeseung’s jaw tightened. He didn’t move.

“And I don’t think you’re over me either,” you said. “You don’t get to look at me like that—like that—and pretend we’re done.”

He was silent for a long beat.

Then, “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t care.”

You stepped closer, just one step, but it felt like ten.

“I know we’re a mess,” you continued. “I know we’re both too much and not enough and every time we try again it ends in fire—but Heeseung, I don’t know how to not come back to you. I don’t know how to let you go.”

His eyes searched yours. Slowly, carefully. And God, the way he looked at you—like you were the same secret he’d never stopped keeping—hurt more than anything.

“Y/N…” he said softly, but he didn’t finish.

You took another step, now close enough to feel the heat of him. “You said it yourself—we belong to each other. No matter how bad we break, no matter who we try to replace each other with. It always comes back to us.”

Heeseung reached up, ran a hand down his face. He looked exhausted. Like he was carrying the weight of every fight, every kiss, every night you spent in his bed just to disappear in the morning.

“I can’t do this again,” he murmured. “I can’t keep letting you back in just to lose you again.”

Your voice cracked. “Then don’t lose me.”

You closed the last bit of space between you and pressed your hands against his chest.

“Let me be selfish just this once,” you whispered. “Let me come back to you.”

He stared down at you, torn, his hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to touch you or throw up a wall.

“I don’t care how many times we fall apart,” you said, voice trembling. “I’ll always come crawling back to you.”

enhypen campus series | writing jays trope next. Let me know if you would like to be tagged.

1K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

#good luck and #good news pls #CPAby2025 #have a blessed holy week everyone

1M notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 4 months ago

Text

YES YES YES 💯

Between lust and revenge

*pairing: Leader alpha Heeseung x omega Girl

*trope: Forbidden love/Enemies to lovers

*synopsis: In an exclusive academy where alphas, omegas and betas coexist, Y/n, a sweet and pretty omega, is forced to marry Jiwon, an omega who does not love and treats her with contempt. But when she finds herself trapped in a fate she has not chosen, the only way out seems to be Heeseung, an alpha tormented by revenge for his brother’s death, caused by the family of Y/n. In despair, Y/n offers herself to Heeseung, asking him to knot her to escape a loveless marriage and the tyranny of her future husband. Despite his resentment towards his family, Heeseung accepts the proposal, but with one condition: he will never love her. As the bond between the two becomes more and more intense and dangerous, Y/n finds herself fighting not only for her own freedom, but also for a love that seems impossible.

*tags: Heeseung is the leader of his 6 younger brothers and whole alpha of the new generation, at first he is really cold and throws darts to Y/n, Y/n is a sweet omega but with a nice character, preliminaries, a lot of kisses, sucking, masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) knotting,filling, pet names (princess,little omega,slut) (Hee,alpha)

12.7k (♥️)

(English is not my native language)

The golden lights of the sunset filtered through the wide glass windows of the greenhouse, dancing among the climbing plants and blooming flowers that filled the air with sweet notes of jasmine and mint. The air was warm, scented with spring and anticipation. You stood there, behind a half-open glass door, your heartbeat echoing through your temples. On the other side of the greenhouse, among the shadows of the foliage, he was there. The boy with amber eyes who had never spared you a long look, but whose mere gaze on yours could make your knees tremble. Heeseung. Alpha. Damnably untouchable. And yet, there you were, spying on him as if just seeing him could be enough to make you breathe.

Your fiery red dress clung to your curves with elegance, the light silk swaying with every breath as your heels hesitated on the stone floor. Your hair, smooth as silk, slipped over your shoulders, and your lips, tinged with a soft red, trembled with unspoken thoughts. The heart-shaped necklace your mother had given you seemed to glow with its own light as if reminding you where you came from. But the ring… the ring that Jiwon had ordered for you, that one you didn’t wear. You didn’t want it. Only your bracelets, colorful and mismatched, truly spoke of who you were: a girl who dreamed of freedom, carrying with her fragments of every summer, every laugh, every escape.

"I can’t do it… I can’t marry him. Not Jiwon, that damn omega who never respected me, never respected my family’s name, and would have locked me in a cage as if I were an animal."

Your fingers clenched the edge of the door. Your heart was pounding, too loudly. Not because of the imminent wedding, but because of the tall, lean figure immersed among the greenhouse plants. Heeseung looked like a noble, deadly shadow, and yet there was something in him that gave you relief. Perhaps because, despite the resentment he held against your family, he had never looked at you as an object. In truth, he had hardly ever looked at you, but when he did… he saw your soul.

"He hates me. I know. But he's the only alpha who could break this curse. The only one strong enough to mark me. The only one who could not be controlled by Jiwon or my father."

You, a gentle omega, delicate, raised to smile, to not disturb, to say thank you, and remain composed. Your aura was faint, like the scent of lavender on a summer evening. People said your presence calmed the air, that your gaze brought peace. But they had no idea of the fire that smoldered within your heart. Of how your soul screamed every time Jiwon touched you with those predatory eyes.

Heeseung was dangerous, with fire and poison and silence. But he didn’t scare you. Because beneath his cold mask, you felt something. As if he, too, was waiting for a way to save himself.

"I wasn’t born to be a bride. Not for an omega like him. If only Heeseung would touch me... if only he would agree to bind himself to me... I could break it all."

The black tuxedo clung to his broad shoulders with almost cruel precision. The seams traced his form as if they had been stitched directly onto his skin, and the high collar barely revealed a vein that pulsed faintly on his neck. Heeseung stood with his back to you, still, like a statue of black marble planted among the shadows of the greenhouse. He seemed part of the landscape, as though nature itself had embraced him as a sovereign.

You bit your lower lip. A nervous gesture, but also one filled with awareness.

Did he hate me? Probably.

If someone from my family had killed one of my brothers, I would have hated to death anyone who bore that blood too.

Your fingers trembled as they brushed against the iron handle of the glass door. You lowered it carefully, and a faint click broke the silence, heavy with humidity and suspended petals. You stepped inside. No sound from him. Not even a breath. Only your gentle aura, warm and light like a caress in the dark, making its way into his realm. The scent of your skin—vanilla and wild honey—spread slowly throughout the greenhouse.

Then, after a few seconds, his voice.

That voice.

Low. Rich with a dangerous echo. A voice you had only heard during shared lessons, and even then, it made the hairs on your neck stand on end.

“A scent so sweet for an omega… Do you come into my territory? What have I done to deserve the presence of a single omega… unprotected… and, by the way, not even accompanied by anyone?” The air changed around him. As if he had pulled the strings of the world itself with those words. You lifted your gaze slowly. Your wide, shining eyes met his back, still turned. It felt like you were looking at a wall you could never scale. Heeseung was a true alpha. Not just any alpha. His aura was like a silent storm: strong, regal, impenetrable. He could pick up every single scent, every emotion, every nuance of your essence. And you were there, trembling, with your innocent air and humble gaze. A perfect prey. A gentle omega, with an aura soft as a nest of feathers, but a heart full of storms. With a nervous touch on your arms, you brushed against the bracelets you’d worn since childhood. They were your colorful armor. Light memories in a world that now seemed to crush you. You squeezed them tight. Then, with a clear voice, but with a thread of hesitation, you said: “I need your help, Heeseung.” His shoulders stiffened just slightly. Nothing visible to the untrained eye, but you felt it. He felt that voice. Sweet. Polite. Humble. But the same voice he hated with all his being. The voice of the daughter of the man who had taken his brother from him, the voice of enemy blood. Slowly, he turned around, and his gaze was an abyss of amber. Predator’s eyes. Contained coldness, the tuxedo jacket barely moving with his motion, his steps slow, controlled. When his eyes met yours, they didn’t see a threat. They saw a harmless creature. They saw prey, and you, there in your red dress, looked almost out of place, like a delicate flower in the middle of a fire.

What were you doing there? The daughter of the man who killed his brother, a sweet omega who, instead of kneeling to ask for forgiveness, dared to ask for help. From him.

You fiddled with your bracelets, making the beads you had collected over the years softly jingle as if their sound could calm you. But it didn’t work. Not with him in front of you. Not with those eyes. You observed him. Red hair, as if every strand had been kissed by fire. It fell messily over his forehead, but perfectly so. Amber eyes were so intense they seemed to bore into you. And yet… they didn’t scare you. No. They seemed like doe’s eyes, deep, glossy… melancholic. His face was sculpted with almost cruel precision: straight nose, full lips, a jawline that seemed carved by a tired god. His alpha frame made him imposing, much taller than you—and you, at barely 1.70 cm, felt like a feather before a storm. You took a deep breath, then spoke with a calm but sincere voice: “I know you hate me. And I swear… I hate myself too for what my father did to your brother. I don’t forgive him, not even I. But I… I am here to offer you a deal. A revenge you could use against him. Against the entire omega lineage and—” “NO.” His roar hit you like a sudden gust of wind. Sharp. Clear. Inviolable. He turned away as if you were nothing. As if your heart, right there on the table, wasn’t worthy of even a glance. He returned to his herbs, his hands mixing lavender and calendula in a black mortar with precision. The scent of flowers and rare plants filled the greenhouse, and yet you only smelled the rejection in the air. You sighed softly. A part of you wanted to leave, to cry in silence like a well-behaved omega, but the other part… the part that was tired of being commanded… took a step forward. You entered deeper into the wolf’s den. You approached his table and, with a sweet but firm voice, pointed at what he was doing. “You’re mixing lavender to soothe wounds… you’re adding arnica root. It’s for bites. To heal a wounded alpha… or a victim of an attack. Who are you trying to heal, Heeseung?” Finally, he lifted his gaze and he did it with a growl. “Out. Not another word from you. Not in my territory.” His voice was sharp, deep, filled with contained venom. But you…you didn’t move. Your eyes remained locked on his, and your fingers lightly rested on the edge of the table, between his herbs and his silence. “I’m not leaving.” You said, and a heady silence fell, where the only sounds were the distant trickle of a stream and the rustle of animals.

Heeseung stared at you, his aura growing dense, almost suffocating. The king of alphas was beginning to get irritated. Yet… beneath his coldness, something shifted. A tiny crack. A curiosity he didn't want to admit. "You're a problem, you know that?" His voice was as hard as stone. But his eyes… they were studying you. You, however, barely smiled. With sweetness, a smile that wasn't a provocation… it was a gentle challenge. It was that quiet strength only an omega like you could possess. "And you're so good at solving problems. Maybe… I could be your favorite." Heeseung's gaze darkened. But he didn’t speak. His fingers continued to mix the herbs, but the movements were no longer as confident as before. He was disturbed. Annoyed. Intrigued, and you knew it. Heeseung observed you. Not with the distracted look of someone who notices something pretty, but with the cold, calculating gaze of an alpha who scrutinizes, evaluates… and hates himself for what’s stirring inside him. He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself. But you were beautiful: one of those rare omegas, born to make even the most stable alphas tremble. He would have wanted to — with his entire body, but not his mind — nurture you, tame you, mark you, bind you to him with the force of an eternal bond, sink every sign of his power into you. And yes… impregnate you, but he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He knew how delicate the balance between omega and alpha was, how few couples truly worked, how easy it was to ruin a life just to satisfy an impulse. And then… you were the daughter of his enemy. Yet, it wasn’t fear he saw trembling in your fingers, it was awareness. A fear all your own. Not for him… but for what you were about to ask.

“You have two minutes,” he said abruptly, his tone cold but his gaze lit by something he couldn’t extinguish. “And then I want you out of here.” A smile appeared on your face. You clapped your hands softly, like a child who had just been permitted to enter an enchanted forest. He raised an eyebrow, irritated. “You’ve already lost five seconds, now it’s one fifty-five.” You sighed softly, but the smile didn’t completely fade. With a gentle yet firm voice, you spoke. “I don’t want to marry Jiwon. I don’t love him. I don’t respect him. And I already know what awaits me if I become his: a house, a bed, and a future made of nothing but pregnancies and silences. I want to be bound, yes, but I also want the freedom to choose, to study, and to live my life. And the only one strong enough to protect me… the only one Jiwon could never challenge… is you, Lee Heeseung.” He didn’t say anything. You swallowed, your heart racing but your gaze clear. “I know you hate me. And that’s fine. But you can use this resentment, this anger inside you… you can use it against my father. Against my bloodline. You can take revenge… with me.” An incredible silence fell over the greenhouse, the herbs seemed to hold their breath. Heeseung was shocked, staring at you with those amber eyes wide open, his jaw clenched. Then he burst out laughing, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was a brief, incredulous explosion. “You’re crazy.” You turned slightly, your face serious yet soft, your tone sweet… but sincere. “No, I’m dead serious.”

He looked at you as if trying to find a crack in your apparent calm. But there was none. And that’s what truly unsettled him. “You want to offer me your body… your virginity… as a pact for revenge? Is that what you’re proposing? To be branded by me, tied, used… so that you don’t end up in Jiwon’s hands?” You didn’t look away. “In a sense, yes, and you’re the only way to do it, no alpha has your power, and if I’m tied to you, your scent and your fragrance will be all over my body and no male will approach me, only you, Heeseung.” Heeseung’s lips curled into a half-cynical smile. His eyes narrowed, dangerous. “Too bad I’ve never been the type to save princesses.” He took a step toward you, slow and ethereal. “Especially those who carry the blood of my worst enemy.” You lowered your gaze. Your fingers tightened around your bracelets as if they could save you from yourself. “The only one who can save me… is you,” you whispered. “You can take revenge… on your brother… by tying me to you.” But you didn’t manage to finish. His voice cut you off, sharp like a slap: “Pathetic.” You froze. A silent tear slipped down your cheek slowly. It slid along your face like an unsaid confession. Your omega aura blossomed, finally free, like a sweet and fragile scent that expanded in the room. You felt it, but he thought it much more. It was soft, welcoming, instinctively submissive but with a core of dignity impossible to extinguish. “You’re right…” you whispered, your voice low. “The two minutes are over.”

You turned slowly. And walked away, trying not to give in to the shame, or the pain, but then something happened. “Stop.” His voice was an order. A command, and you… you stopped. Not out of fear. Not because you wanted to. But because something in your omega nature forced you to obey. Omegas live to follow. To feel they belong. And with that voice… your body reacted before your mind. You turned slowly. “You’re pathetic, but also… brave.” He took a few steps toward you, his eyes still burning with distrust, but also something else. Something that tightened his chest. “No one has ever faced me like this. No one. Least of all an omega.” He stopped in front of you, his body just inches away. His warmth was overwhelming, and his eyes, now darker, locked onto yours. “Do you know what happens to an omega… when they’re tied by an alpha?” You swallowed. Your legs trembled. But you didn’t look away. “Yes,” you murmured. “Tell me.” You swallowed again, and with an uncertain but sincere voice, you said: “When an alpha ties an omega, his knot swells inside her… locking in for minutes, sometimes even half an hour. During that time… the omega loses complete control.” You said, looking at him with desperate eyes. “The body opens, surrenders. The scent changes. The orgasm is violent… uncontrollable. The bond forms. And… the omega can get pregnant at the first attempt if the alpha desires. But if the omega isn’t ready… if she’s afraid… her body may react badly. The pain can become too much and yes… in extreme cases… she could die.” The silence that followed was different from all the ones before. Heeseung stared at you as if you were saying the most absurd thing�� and at the same time, the truest. “And despite all of that… you want to risk being tied by me?” “Yes.” you said, sure of your words.

Heeseung was stunned. For the first time in years, he didn't know what to do. Your words echoed in his ears, so sweet and desperate that they made him clench his fists. What would his brothers say? Him. Lee Heeseung. The most respected alpha at the Academy. Him, tying an omega. Not just any omega. But the daughter of the man who had wiped out his family. "If I bind you," he said quietly, with a hard voice, "you'll be mine forever, there’s no turning back. The bond will be eternal. Your body, your soul… everything will belong to me." You nodded, the tears threatening to fall, but with your eyes shining. "I know." Then, in an even quieter, almost broken voice, you said: "And I'll do everything you want, Heeseung. Even… even get pregnant. If that’s what you desire from me." The alpha's breath caught in his throat. Those words… offered so sincerely, without malice, without strategy… they were like a blade to the chest. “If you do this,” he thought, “your family will disown you. They’ll cast you out. They’ll cut you off.” But a voice inside him whispered: "Good. Let them. She’ll find a new family. Mine." You looked at him again, standing tall even though your body trembled.

"I… I can become your perfect revenge. Imagine my father’s face when he finds out that an alpha has bound me. That his perfect little girl has been taken, tied, marked… and maybe even impregnated. He’ll be furious. Humiliated, and I… I’ll be free from a forced marriage between two families pretending to support each other." Heeseung gritted his teeth, fighting with himself. "And you think I would give you freedom?" he said bitterly. You smiled, this time bitter but sincere. "I know you don’t like me, Heeseung. You don’t have to. But you… you and I are the best at herbology. No one beats us. And yet they always pit us against each other because they want to see us break. But I’ve always seen you. Always respected you. And I know that when alphas choose a mate, they love her. They protect her. They let her… live. Better than in a gilded cage with Jiwon. Better than being just a breeder to be showcased for my beauty and my calming power over people." Silence.

Heeseung’s breath was broken, his gaze fierce but filled with torment, looking at you as if you were poison and remedy at the same time. Desire and destruction. He took a step closer, then another. Now he was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face. "And if I marked you now?" he whispered. "If I pushed you against that table and bound you mercilessly… in front of these plants… while you cry, but not from fear… just because you’re finally free?" Your breath hitched. Your omega inside was trembling. You looked into his eyes, even though your heart was pounding, and the omega aura crackled in the air, ready to bend, ready to follow… but you didn’t look away. "I'm not ready yet," you murmured. His lips curled into a bitter sneer. "Pathetic," he hissed. "Not even for a kiss?" The tone was venomous and harsh. But you felt it… it wasn’t real. It was self-defense. It was fear. It was broken pride. Heeseung knew you were right. No one was truly ready for the bond of a knot. Not even him. And yet… as your omega scent mixed with his natural alpha fragrance – strong, resinous, with hints of musk and spices – something in the air became dangerously sweet; a mutual intoxication. Lethal but also… irresistible. He took a few steps forward. His voice was low, rasping as if scratched by pain. "Your father… killed my brother. Like a dog. He left him there… eyes open. And blood painting the end on the floor, and you… you’re here. Crying. Asking to be saved." You didn’t answer. You just listened, the tears now free, warm, slipping down your cheeks. Your heart screamed, but your mouth remained silent. He noticed. And for a moment, he softened. He sighed, running a hand through his fiery red hair that he was trying to smother. “…I’ll think about it," he finally said. "I don’t promise anything." Your eyes lit up. And with a light, almost ironic voice, but sincere, you said: “At least it’s not a hard ‘no’…” He looked at you, raising an eyebrow, both irritated and amused at the same time. "I’ve had enough for tonight. Go back to the dance. Surely your ‘perfect omega’ is looking for you. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?" You looked at him sweetly, with that touch of innocent defiance that only an omega like you could afford. "When will you decide?" Heeseung stared at you for a moment, then looked away. But his words struck straight to your chest: "You’ll know soon enough, and prepare yourself mentally, princess… because if I decide to knot you and make you mine, it won’t be for play." You nodded, feeling every word resonate inside you. You bowed, in the ancient silence of the greenhouse, and you left. Light heels, uncertain steps, a heart-pounding wildly, but behind your chest… a small flame had taken a life, and you knew, as you stepped out into the cold night, that not everything was lost.

Three days had passed, seventy-two hours, four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes. Not that you were counting, of course. Every time you crossed paths with him in the Academy's hallways, or during Herbology class, Heeseung didn't even spare you a glance. He was icy, impassive, as if that night in the greenhouse had never happened, yet… you could feel it. His scent. His fleeting gaze. His breath changing every time you entered the room. In the meantime, you had searched for everything there was about knotting between an alpha and an omega.

“The knot can last from twenty to forty-five minutes.”

“During the mating, the omega enters a state of controlled instinctive heat, where the body completely surrenders.”

“The alpha, if compatible, can permanently mark the omega, leaving an irreversible spiritual, emotional, and physical bond.”

“Fertilization is highly likely if the omega does not take the contraceptive pill, even during non-fertile days, due to the high release of pheromones.”

Every time you read something like this, your thighs clenched involuntarily, as if trying to hold something back. A strange, warm, pulsing sensation. Your body knew. Your body wanted. But your mind was scared. Your best friend was an alpha, Heeseung's cousin, and a small genetic miracle: daughter of a male omega and a female alpha. Like you, she had never been knotted. That afternoon, you both lay under the willow in the inner courtyard, your bare feet in the cold grass, talking softly. "My mom told me it's like… being branded by fire. It hurts. It's ecstasy and tearing together. But also that after, you can never live without him, especially if you start to have feelings during the act." You lowered your gaze, playing with the bracelets on your wrist. "I don't know if I'm ready… but I keep thinking about what he had to go through because of my family, the omega bloodline, and I don’t even know if he truly hates me. I just know that… I'm so sorry. Truly sorry. For him. For what he's lived through." She hugged you gently. Her embrace was warm, and reassuring. Familiar. "Heeseung… suffered more than anyone. You have no idea. He was just a boy when it happened. And since then, he hasn’t let anyone touch him. He’s never been close to an omega. Not even one." You looked at her, your eyes misty, but determined. "I know. And you know what the worst part is? That… I’m jealous." She chuckled softly, nudging you with her shoulder. "Jealous of what, idiot?" she laughed, though also intrigued by your candid confession. "That you can choose whoever you want, whenever you want. No one forces you. But I’ve already got a predetermined fate… unless…" you said, looking at the enchanted clearing in front of you. "Unless you rebel," she finished, hugging you. "Unless you choose who you want to be and refuse to give yourself to a man who will never satisfy you. You know that’s the easiest path, but if you give yourself fully to Heeseung, you know it will be the hardest road, but also the one where you can live and show who you are, not just a docile omega." You smiled and, to lighten the mood, teased her: "So, who would you like to knot you or, I don’t know, go out with someone? Come on, tell me. Jake? Jay? Or… Sunghoon? You’ve got three good options!" She blushed up to her ears and covered her face. "Don’t start!" You winked at her at the mention of Sunghoon's name, and she collapsed onto the grass with an exasperated groan, telling you not to start because she couldn’t stand that guy who looked like a human ice cube. Then, as you both laughed, you felt your phone vibrate. A single message.

One sender: Heeseung. "Friday. 21:30 PM. Classroom above the astronomical tower."

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been summoned, like an ancient ritual, a call that could not be ignored. Your mother had always told you that when an alpha wants you… you feel it, but no one had prepared you to feel it like this.

Friday evening had arrived. Too fast, too slow. Every hour that passed that day seemed to melt into your skin like hot wax. Anxiety? No, it was a deeper bubbling. It was the awareness that in just a few hours, your destiny would change forever or perhaps… you would truly become yours for the first time. You wore something simple but carefully chosen: a loose ivory sweater, slightly faded jeans, and your lucky bracelets. Your fingers trembled a little as you closed the door behind you. It wasn’t fear; it was awareness. You arrived before the set time, but he… was already there. The large classroom at the top of the astronomical tower was bathed in silence. Heeseung was sitting on the couch by the huge window, his back straight, hands in his pockets, his gaze lost in the lake where the moon reflected like a broken dream. His silhouette seemed drawn by the light: red hair like domesticated fire, broad shoulders, an imposing back. A true alpha. A king awaiting his new queen. You didn’t say a word. You entered quietly and sat next to him, fiddling with the bracelets on your wrist to hold back the heart that was beating too fast. Then you looked at him. His perfect profile, straight nose, long lashes, taut jaw. “Have you decided?” you asked, your voice low and sincere. He didn’t look at you, not immediately, and continued staring at the water. “Are you sure?” His voice was rough, low, like a dull blade, and you nodded. “Yes, only your cousin knows, my best friend. No one else.” Heeseung slowly turned towards you, his amber eyes piercing through you. “My brothers know. All six of them: Jay, Jake, Hoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki.” You swallowed hard. His “brothers,” as Heeseung called them, weren’t his blood brothers, but they had grown up together, seven of them, as a real family. All seven were alphas with true marks and supernatural powers, and Heeseung had been elected as their leader for his aura, his flawless hunting skills, always perfect and borderline survival, but he always made it, one way or another. Two years ago, he had been elected and crowned the leader of the new generation of alphas. You gathered your courage and asked him. “And… what did they say?” You knew some might have turned their noses up, like Sunghoon and Ni-Ki, but others could have pushed him to accept, like Jake, Sunoo, and Jungwon. But the one he trusted most was Jay. He turned fully towards you, leaning against the couch with his arms crossed.

“They said I’d be crazy to do it. That you’re a risk. An emotional bomb. That you carry a dirty past with you. That you don’t deserve a bond with our family.” Your heart clenched… until he added, coldly: “But Jay pointed out something: your family is on the verge of ruin, and they have land in the city that… is worth a lot of money. That’s why they want to marry you off to that scoundrel omega, because with his construction company, he can use his connections, but also benefit from your name. If you were to knot, and then… marry… those lands would become mine, ours, and my family would come out even stronger.” You stayed silent for a moment before interrupting him. “Wait, wait, did you just say Marriage?!”

Heeseung looked at you and shrugged. "You know, after a year of knotting… all bound couples get married. It’s law. It’s culture. It’s biology." You lowered your gaze, your fingers tightening around the bracelets, then lifted your eyes, unsure. "So… is this a yes? Are you telling me yes? That you want to knot me and marry me?" Heeseung studied you carefully for a long time, his gaze so deep it made you tremble inside, as though he could see every crack in you. Then he spoke: "Yes. But I won’t love you. Never. This isn’t a fairytale. There will be no love, no hearts, no ribbons. I’ll give you the freedom you want. I’ll rip you away from your destiny, but my heart… remains mine." His words were a punch to the stomach, but also… salvation. You looked at him with a small spark in your eyes. "I don’t ask for your heart, Heeseung, just the choice, the freedom to be myself." And he nodded. "Then prepare yourself, because when an alpha decides… there’s no turning back." As his words faded between you—cold, sharp, definitive—you didn’t think twice. You hugged him with small, trembling arms but full of courage. He was rigid, cold, like a statue carved from black stone… but you sank into him anyway. You sank into his chest, feeling the tension, the anger… and the heartbeat. That powerful alpha heartbeat that echoed against yours. "Tsk, what’s this, now omegas throw themselves into the arms of their enemies? How pathetic, cliché," he sneered. His tone was cynical, dismissive, but his words didn’t move you. You stayed there. With your forehead resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, and a breath that kicked inside you like a prayer. "I’ll thank you forever, Heeseung… I was more afraid of ending up in the hands of an omega like Jiwon, who doesn’t respect women… than being knotted, fertilized, reproduced, and maybe even dying." Your words were sincere, raw, and the truth made something inside him tremble.

Under his skin, in his blood, and then his heart raced. Unexpectedly, you felt a large hand rest on your back, a hesitant touch, almost instinctive, his fingers moving lightly in small circles.

A caress, a primitive form of contact that felt more like comfort than possession. And it was true what they said about you. A warm aura, made of light and peace, a gentle omega’s touch that soothed the soul, even before the flesh.

When you pulled away, Heeseung immediately felt the emptiness, as though you had torn away an invisible part of him. You lowered your gaze, rummaging in your bag, and handed him a folded sheet of paper.

He took it, perplexed, and opened it:

Medical certificate of Y/n (your surname)

Signature of the university gynecologist, and there were specific words written:

No illness.

Still a virgin.

Stable aura.

Mental and physical healing abilities.

Perfect response to stimulation from alpha, omega, or beta.

Adaptable to repeated knotting.

Receptive to imprinting and consensual domination.

He lifted his gaze to you, an eyebrow raised.

"Wow. My little elite virgin is already ready for the marriage packaging, huh? All that’s left is a pink bow and a tag that says ‘fertilize me, I’m pure.’"

He teased you, of course, with that sharp sarcasm from an alpha who didn’t want to give in.

But this time… there was a different tone, a hint of something not just irony.

It was interest, it was respect, and despite everything, it was… dangerously close to admiration.

You stuck out your tongue at him, playful but sweet, and were about to say something—but you didn’t have time.

His fingers gently took your chin, and for a moment…

those amber eyes—eyes of a deer and a predator combined—studied you like an enigma no one had ever dared to solve, and then he kissed you, without warning, without control.

The kiss wasn’t just a kiss — it was a restrained bite, a bite on instinct.

Heeseung wasn’t just anyone. He was the Alpha of all Alphas. Born to dominate, to protect, to take. And right in front of him stood the perfect embodiment of everything he was meant to destroy… and yet, he wanted to possess it.

You whimpered softly under his touch, and that alone was enough to awaken the darkest part of him — that hunger. That urge to explore every inch of you.

He pressed your shoulders with one hand and gently laid you down on the couch, slowly, almost like a predator who takes his time before devouring his prey. He leaned over you, barely giving you space to breathe.

His Alpha scent was overwhelming. Warm like fire, sharp like pepper. You trembled — not out of fear.

Your body was beginning to accept the inevitable.

Heeseung stared at you, and in his eyes, there was raw hunger.

Not just the desire to kiss you, but to tear away your control, and melt your resistance.

To see you fall apart under his touch and then… cry, call for him, beg for him.

"So small. So pure. I’d only need to spread her legs and she'd already be mine. One thrust, one knot, and her whole life would change. She was made to be filled, born to take me in, to be only mine," he thought as he heard your moan.

“Moaning from just a kiss? Pathetic…” he murmured against your lips, with that crooked, cursed smile — but he didn’t pull away.

He deepened the kiss, opening your mouth again and sliding his tongue in further — exploring, taking, claiming.

And you let him. As if you had been waiting for this all along.

Your bodies moved against each other without shame.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them slightly — just enough for you to understand that he could.

That if he wanted to, he could knot you right there.

“You’re not even ready for my kiss — let alone my knot,” he whispered in your ear, voice hoarse, while you trembled beneath him.

“Your thighs squeeze shut every time I get close, you know? I can feel it. Your body begs for me… and you don’t even realize it.”

You gasped, cheeks flushed, throat dry.

“I want it to be beautiful…” you managed to whisper, voice broken.

He laughed. A low, wicked laugh, thick with promises.

“It won’t be beautiful. It’ll be unforgettable. But let me warn you, little omega…”

He moved a strand of hair from your face, looking precisely where he’d mark you.

“When I knot you, I’ll do it properly. I’ll make you tremble. Cry. Come. Not just once. Every time I want it. I’ll train your body to welcome me until you beg to be bred.”

He paused, eyes blazing.

“Because when I want you, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. No excuses. And you… will thank me.”

You nodded slowly, lips parted, unable to speak — only to feel.

“Good,” he whispered again, leaning close once more. “Then start taking the pill. Because if you forget even once… I swear I’ll knock you up and keep you tied to me forever.”

Classroom near the tower – the fourth day before the knotting

Time seemed to bend every time you entered that room. There was something about the scent Heeseung left on the walls, the curtains, even the wood of the desk — it made your thighs clench just crossing the threshold.

When he entered, silent as always, the air tightened.

You were already there, sitting with your hands on your knees, head lowered, your pleated skirt barely revealing the soft skin of your thighs.

But he saw you and chuckled softly.

“So good. Like a little puppy waiting for its master.”

His voice was velvet and venom. It hit you straight in the gut.

“I’m not a dog,” you murmured. But you didn’t lift your gaze. Never before he allowed it.

“Oh no?” he stepped closer, one slow step at a time. “Then why are you crouched here every time, ready to let me touch anything I want?”

You swallowed.

“Because that’s the deal, Heeseung. If you don’t touch me, don’t train me, I might die.”

He was on you in a second. His body pressed against yours, and his hand grabbed your face firmly, forcing you to look at him.

Those eyes — dark, liquid, hungry. “Stop pretending you're doing this just for the agreement. You don’t tremble like that every time I touch you out of duty.”

“I... I do it to survive, and you know perfectly well what my fate would be otherwise, Heeseung.” A smirk appeared on his lips as he brushed your mouth with his thumb.

“Then surviving turns you on, omega?” You wanted to answer, but you couldn’t. Because he was right. Your body spoke louder than your words.

With a jerk, he turned you around and bent you forward against the desk. Your cheek pressed against the cold wood. You could feel his breath behind you.

“Look at yourself. So obedient. So submissive. You didn’t even ask what I’m going to do to you today.”

“What… what will you do to me today, Alpha?” Your voice trembled.

“I’m prepping you, as always. But today… you’ll be on your knees. With your mouth this time. I need to know if you can take me there too.” Your heart stopped for a second.

Then you nodded slowly. “Yes, Alpha. As you wish.”

“Good little obedient omega.”

His voice dripped sweet poison, and you drank it like water. He made you kneel between his legs. He stroked your hair with slow irony like one would pet a domesticated animal.

“Look how docile my revenge prize is. The father kills my brother, and the daughter kneels for me. There is justice in this world after all.”

You wanted to talk back. You looked up at him, your breath already shaky.

“You don’t own me… yet.”

“But you act like I do. So tell me, little one — who’s in charge here?”

“You… Alpha.”

He made you stand again. Pressed you against the wall, his body locked into yours. His hands were everywhere: on your throat, your hips, under your skirt. He kissed you violently, and then his voice dropped.

“In just a few days, I’ll knot you. And it won’t be sweet. I want to feel your tears, I want to hear your voice begging for more. You asked for revenge… but you served it to me on a silver platter.”

His teeth sank into your neck.

Not to mark you — not yet. But to show he was close.

You gasped, your bare breasts pressed to his warm chest.

“Alpha… thank you… for not breaking me yet.”

He chuckled against your skin.

“Oh, princess… who told you I haven’t already?”

The dining room was bathed in golden light, the chandeliers casting a soft glow across the space. The guests' murmurs wove together in a steady hum. The long, dark wooden table was meticulously set, adorned with nothing but forced smiles and carefully measured words.

You sat poised, hands resting on your lap, back straight, cheeks lightly brushed with makeup. Beside you sat your “future husband”: Jiwon, leader of the new generation of omegas—perfect in looks, rotten in soul. His fake smile stung every time his elbow brushed against yours as if to remind you that you belonged to him.

But that wasn’t true.

In two days, Heeseung would claim you. He would mark you—make you his and none of the people seated at that table knew it.

Your father raised his glass toward you, a proud smile on his lips.

'You look beautiful, Y/n. I can’t wait to see you at the altar. You’ll be the purest bride this clan has ever seen.'

You nodded with a gentle smile.

Pure.

If only he had seen your bruised knees, your reddened neck, and the bites Heeseung had left on you just two nights ago.

Jiwon grinned and added in a smug voice, “Yeah, I’m excited too. Maybe we should put a collar on her to keep her from running off the altar—like she does every time I try to kiss her!”

Scattered laughter rippled among the guests, but the air grew noticeably colder.

You smiled politely, though deep down you wanted to rip his tongue out.

Then Jiwon’s mother, seated across the table, chimed in with a sweet voice and a probing tone.

-And you, Y/n? Where would you like to get married? Something simple, I imagine? A nice garden near the countryside, perhaps. Nothing too extravagant…-

You answered her gracefully, eyes lowered in a courteous smile.

“I’ve always dreamed of getting married at the White Peak Falls. It's wrapped in mist—like it’s floating in the sky. It feels... intimate.”

The woman frowned, clearly displeased.

-Too damp. It would ruin the hair and makeup. Better something classic, like the Hidden Rose Pavilion. At least there, you can breathe nobility.-

Before you could respond, Jiwon shifted in his seat and raised his voice just enough to draw attention.

“Anyway, there’s still time. The wedding can only happen a year after the bonding ceremony, and I haven’t exactly… left my mark on her yet.”

Silence fell for a moment.

Your cheeks flushed—not from embarrassment, but from the searing memory of Heeseung’s hands gripping your waist, his warm tongue on your skin, his raspy voice calling you his "well-behaved little omega" as he bent you to his will.

To everyone else, you seemed so naïve. So obedient. So inexperienced.

But they knew nothing.

You knew how to ignite desire. How to stroke an Alpha’s pride without bruising it. How to touch not just the body—but the mind.

And you had learned it all from the Alpha among Alphas.

You smiled sweetly and raised your gaze.

“Well, a year may sound long... but time flies when one is busy... learning.”

Jiwon looked at you with a flicker of surprise and curiosity, as if the double meaning had taken him a moment to register. Then, he smiled.

He leaned in and took your hand, kissing it in front of everyone—slowly, with exaggerated elegance.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Soon... I’ll be the one teaching you. And you’ll be all mine.”

You shivered. Not with desire— But with disgust.

And under the table, your nails dug into the skin of your palm, just to stop yourself from screaming the truth that burned in your throat:

“No. I already belong to him.”

The night was thick and humid, the fog still clinging to the air, and the faint glow of the streetlamps seemed to float in midair. Every step you took was a risk—sneaking past the night guard, entering the male quarters where omegas weren’t allowed without permission—but you didn’t care. He was waiting for you. When you turned the corner of the main hallway, you saw him. Heeseung was there, leaning against his doorway, hands in his pockets, that usual look in his eyes—slow, dark, like the night itself. “Took you forever,” he said, his voice slipping under your skin. “There’s fog and it’s damp… I even straightened my hair and got ready,” you murmured with a soft huff, tucking a strand behind your ear. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, smirking. “What a waste. I’ll have my hands in that hair soon… and you might end up sweating, too.” You rolled your eyes, but didn’t bother hiding the heat rising in your cheeks. “You’re awful.” “And yet you still came.” His room took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you’d expected from an Alpha like him—no hunting trophies or flexed muscles covering every wall. Instead, shelves lined with collectible Legos, a wall of perfectly arranged video games, a music console with headphones hanging neatly… and then—the bed. Massive. Dark. With rumpled sheets and heavy blankets. The room was dim, yes, but it radiated him. That blend of dominance and stillness. Controlled chaos just beneath the skin. It crept over you like a chill. “Sit.” His voice was lower now, closer. You looked him in the eyes and obeyed—like a true omega. You sat at the edge of the bed, hands in your lap, back straight, heart in chaos. He stood in front of you, his hands placed on either side of your legs, his body bending forward just enough to make you feel small—just how he liked it. He stared at you for a long moment, then spoke, quiet and serious. “One last time. Are you sure?” You met his eyes—no hesitation left in yours. “Yes. I want this. I want you.” Slowly, he lifted a hand and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. The touch was warm, certain. Then he smiled. Not the soft kind—but the sharp one. The one that sent every nerve on high alert. “To think… out of everyone, you looked the most innocent. The purest. And yet here you are, sitting on an Alpha’s bed, ready to be knotted like a good little obedient doll.” Your breath hitched, but your gaze didn’t falter. His finger ran over your lips, parting them just slightly. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. Tonight, I’ll teach you how to ask for pleasure. And how to receive it… only when I decide.” You nodded shyly, though your heart pounded like a drum. Heeseung sat beside you on the bed with the calm danger of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Kiss me.” You didn’t hesitate. You leaned in, kneeling on the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him close with that sweetness that tasted of surrender… and need. Your omega scent mixed with the damp air, and your lips sought his—quietly desperate, respectful, hungry.

The kiss was slow, like a silent plea for permission in every touch. But Heeseung… Heeseung was different.He kissed you with teeth, with tongue, like he was taking something from you.

Like every moan you gave was a small revenge pressed into your skin.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you tighter, and then he chuckled against your mouth.

“Mmh. So good… so hungry… you’re like one of those sweet little dolls, just waiting to be unwrapped.”

You blushed but didn’t get the chance to reply. His hands grabbed your ass, lifting you swiftly to straddle his lap, your body fitting perfectly against his.

Beneath your light skirt, his hands roamed upward, shameless.

“And underneath… what’s my little liar wearing, hmm?” His fingers brushed along the curve of your backside, finding the edge of the fabric.

“Panties…” you whispered, voice barely audible.

“What color?” His voice was poison and honey, the Alpha demanding truth… and control.

“Blue and white… with a little bow.”

He let out a low, amused laugh.

“Well, would you look at that? Do you really want me to take you while you’re still wearing those good-girl panties?

Tsk… you’re just a little omega dressed up as temptation.”

You flushed again but didn’t move.

You stayed still, just like a well-trained omega, breath trembling, lips slightly parted.

Heeseung leaned in again, kissing you with more hunger, more claim.

One hand gripped your hips, holding you in place; the other slid up your back, under your shirt.

Then it moved down—his lips trailing your neck, stopping at the exact point between your jaw and shoulder.

A soft, choked moan escaped you—honest, fragile.

Your body recognized him. Craved him. He smiled against your skin.

“Oh, listen to that moan… so easy, so sweet. Baby, we haven’t even started. And you’re already melting.”

He took your chin in two fingers, making you look into his eyes.

His lips were everywhere along your neck—warm, deliberate, hungry.

Each bite, and each suck left you gasping quietly.

And when you tried to speak, you stuttered.

“H-Hee… y-you’re…”

“What?” he whispered against your damp skin, that teasing tone of someone who already knew.

“Omegas are always so submissive… but you? You’re something else.

You stutter just from me brushing your neck?”

You wanted to reply with something sharp—but another moan betrayed you.

He laughed.

“Pathetic. I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

Still, your voice—trembling—came through, laced with that spark he always liked.

“You talk a lot… but if I wasn’t worth it, you’d never have wanted me in your bed.”

He paused for a second.

Then looked you dead in the eyes, a half-feral grin on his lips.

“Touché.”

His hand slid up your arm, fingers hooking into the edge of your sweater.

“Take it off.”

Of course, you obeyed. Like every well-behaved omega.

Like his omega.

You slipped the sweater off slowly, revealing your bare shoulders and a simple white lace bralette—delicate, but elegant.

Heeseung whistled low, that crooked grin still playing on his lips.

“Cute. But without it… you'd be perfect.”

And without waiting for permission, he unclasped it with one fluid motion.

The fabric slipped away, and your bare breasts rose with each shaky breath.

He bit his lip, eyes locked on you.

“Would you look at that… so sweet, so full… like they’ve been waiting just for me.” He teased you but didn’t give you time to reply. He leaned down over you, his mouth capturing one of your sensitive buds, sucking slowly, savoring the way you trembled, the way your fingers clung to his shoulders. His hand kept you still, but then slid down, grabbing between your legs with sudden force. “H-Heeseung… it’s t-too much…” You whispered, voice trembling between a moan and a gasp. He stopped. Looked at you with a sharp, amused expression. “Too much? What, is my Omega fragile?” Then he nodded, voice dropping lower. “Alright. I’ll go easy… for now.” His hand changed pace—slow, almost gentle. But his mouth didn’t stop. It moved from one breast to the other, licking and nibbling with a hunger he no longer cared to hide. “This skin… this body…” he murmured against you, “—soon it’ll all be mine. Completely. And no one will ever touch you again.”

His lips didn’t stop. They were everywhere on your body: your neck, already marked by his kisses, your aching breasts, then lower… down past your belly button. You trembled not only from his touch but from what it meant. From what was about to happen. Heeseung noticed. He stopped. His hands rested on your hips, his gaze climbing up to your eyes. “Don’t be afraid of me,” he said, voice low, almost dark. You nodded, hands still clutching the sheets beneath you. “I know… it’s just… I didn’t expect any of this. I feel like a lamb laid out for slaughter.” A crooked smile tugged at his lips. Cruel. Tender. Heeseung was everything and it was the opposite. “That’s exactly what you are. A sweet, fragile little omega… too good for this world.” Then his tone shifted, more serious. “But you forgot—there were only two choices: me or Jiwon.” You didn’t hesitate. “I want you.” His eyes narrowed. Something flickered inside him, fast like lightning. Maybe pride. Maybe… something more. “Good girl,” he murmured. “That’s how you answer an Alpha.”

Gently, he laid you down on the bed. Your body sank into the dark sheets, your skin already hot from every touch of his. He knelt in front of you, bare chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He reached out and stroked your cheek—a soft gesture. Unusual. Disarming. As if, just for a moment… he wanted to be something more than your master. Then he leaned down again, this time pressing his lips to your belly button. He kissed you there slowly, and you… giggled softly. A small, unexpected sound. Fragile. Childlike. He stopped and looked at you. “Did you just laugh?” His voice was surprised, but not harsh. Almost… amused. “You tickled me there,” you murmured, hands moving to cover your face in embarrassment. Heeseung shook his head and gave you a light slap on the thigh—a playful scolding. “This is the preparation for the knot, and you’re laughing? Are you disrespecting me, little Omega?” But his tone was no longer just dominant. It was… something else. He stared at you like he didn’t know anymore if he just wanted to mark you… or protect you. And you felt it. Something was changing in the way he touched you, in the way he looked at you, in how he took care of your body… without rushing, without fully dominating. As if he, too, needed to feel something. Not just vengeance. And inside your chest… fear mixed with another feeling. “Now,” he murmured, voice rough and deep, “I’m taking this skirt off.” And it wasn’t a request. With one swift, impatient motion, he pulled it down your hips. The fabric gave way with a sharp tear, and in an instant, you were exposed to the cool air of the room, bare skin tense beneath his gaze. Instinctively, you closed your legs. Too exposed. Too vulnerable. But he didn’t allow it. “Keep them open for me,” he growled, grabbing your knees and spreading them with fierce slowness. “Your scent is everywhere. Do you know how much you’re dripping for me, little Omega?”

He leaned down. His hot breath on your core made every part of you jolt. “Mmh, panties already soaked?” He smiled. The smile of a predator. “You’re really that desperate for me, huh? How cute…” He started kissing your thighs, slowly, with warm lips and a slow tongue, like he wanted to mark you there too, inch by inch. But every now and then he’d graze a sensitive spot, and you… you’d squirm, tremble, giggle quietly. “S-stop… you’re tickling me…” “Tsk,” he muttered, lifting his eyes with mock disapproval. “No girl laughs this much before being knotted. Are you mocking me, Omega?” You looked up at him, breathing in short gasps. Your eyes glimmered with shame and wonder. “Maybe I’m special.” For a moment, the silence was thick. Heeseung stared at you, and something in his gaze shifted.

The pure Alpha mask cracked—just a little. Maybe from pride. Maybe because deep down… he really thought you were special. Then he lowered himself again between your thighs, his fingers slowly trailing along your panties. “Special or not,” he murmured, voice rough like sandpaper, tonight you’re mine. To the last drop of your scent. Until no other man dares to even look at you.”

Heeseung took off his hoodie with a slow but determined motion, and you watched him — you couldn’t help but stare. His body was sculpted, and strong, radiating that raw energy only a powerful Alpha could possess. But what truly struck you were the scars. They ran across his chest, his biceps… old, some of them deep. Painful even to look at. Your hand rose on its own, hesitant, brushing one of the faded lines on his arm. He tensed. For a second, he seemed to hold his breath, even as his lips were still on your skin, right there between your thighs. “Don’t touch those,” he said, voice rough, almost harsh — but you didn’t pull back immediately. You looked at him, with a tenderness you hadn’t expected from yourself. “Who did this to you…?” Heeseung didn’t answer. But he didn’t move away either. Instead, he lowered his head again — and this time, there was no more gentleness. With one sharp move, he tore off your panties too, leaving you completely exposed under his gaze. “Don’t talk about the past. Not now.”

His voice had turned harder. Hungrier. He spread your legs again, and his warm breath made you shiver. Then — without a warning, without a word — he spit slowly between your thighs, and the wet, hot sensation made you jolt. Your breath caught, and a moan escaped your lips. His mouth followed right after — hungry, relentless. “H-Heeseung…!”

You stammered, hands clutching at the sheets, your body trying to hold back a tidal wave you'd never felt before. “Wa–wait… I… it’s too much…” “Too much?” he growled against you. “We haven’t even started.” He looked up at you from below, eyes gleaming with desire and domination. “I’m going to fill you. First with my fingers, then with my cock — and you’ll thank me for every second.” You nodded. You couldn’t do anything else. And then you felt the first finger sink into you — your body tensed, breath catching for a moment, and your mouth tried to form some kind of response: “I-it feels… it’s warm… it’s overwhelming… but I like it…” He smirked, a fierce whisper at your ear. “Look how you open up for me. Such a good little Omega, so desperate. I thought you’d resist at least a little… but you're already trembling from just one finger.” The movement grew deeper, slower, exploring every inch of you — then, without warning, he added another. You moaned loudly. Almost a cry. Of pleasure, of shame, of surrender. And Heeseung watched you, like he was already carving your name under his skin. His fingers moved slowly but with purpose, sinking deeper between your thighs with increasing confidence. Heeseung stared at you like he owned every breath you took, every shiver that ran through you. When he added a third finger, your body arched toward him, and the words tumbled from your lips, a trembling whisper: “It’s… beautiful…” Heeseung laughed softly — a low, sharp sound. “Listen to you talk, little thing. Falling in love with something so simple. You really are an Omega… born to be beneath, born to entertain me.” His tone was cruel, but his voice scratched like molten honey. Already warm and vulnerable, you whimpered as he dipped down again, kissing you slowly, savoring every reaction he could pull from you. You grabbed his hair, tugging with a broken moan — and for the first time, you heard him… groan. A low, animalistic sound, while still buried deep inside you. Your body started to tremble. You knew it. You felt it building. “Hee… I… I’m about to…” He didn’t wait. He pushed you over the edge, adding a third finger, thrusting into you with firm, confident strokes — not even asking for permission. You screamed. And he smiled against your skin, while your body exploded beneath his control. “Look how you come for me…” he murmured, voice low and dangerous. “A little Omega who gives in so easily. So wet, so desperate. You were made to be filled by me.” You were gasping, still trembling, voice shattered by pleasure and surrender. “Only you… only for you, Heeseung. I’m your Omega…” He didn’t answer right away. He just stayed between your thighs, savoring every wave that still shook you. Then he rose slowly, his chest rising and falling, and his lips crashed onto yours with hunger. The kiss was raw. Wet. Tongues searching, claiming. No sweetness. Just possession. Instinct. “Can you taste what surrender feels like?” he whispered against your lips. “It’s sweet. It’s mine.” And you — breathless, shameless — kissed him again.

The room was immersed in a warm pre-shade, imbued with a tense silence. Heeseung slowly pulled off his pants, dropping them at the foot of the bed, and you couldn't take your eyes off him. The boer When he lowered them, your breath froze for a moment. It was like you had heard about the alphas: imposing, thick, damp at the end. You bit your lip slightly, instinctively, without even realizing it. His eyes rested on yours, and in a hoarse voice he asked you: "You want to touch it?»

You barely nodded, and with trembling fingers you brushed him, caressing him shyly, starting a slow movement. He whispered: "Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent," you replied, without hesitation. A satisfied growl came out of his throat. "Well. Then stay still." His hand slid between your legs, touching you with that confidence that only an Alpha like him could afford. he used his length to tease you, rubbing it on your clit until you shivered. "Put your hands on my shoulders. Squeeze, if it hurts." You nodded, your heart beating like crazy. Then, with a single shot, he entered you. Deep. Hot. Too.

Your body stretched, your eyes filled with tears ... but you did not protest. Not a word, just a broken groan. "Good, little omega," he whispered in his ear. "Now you are mine." His cock was completely inside you, and you were shaking under him, thighs slightly apart, hands clinging to his shoulders. Every muscle of yours tightened it with pure instinct, as if your body was born only to welcome it. Heeseung stood still, deeply immersed within you, his chest rising and falling slowly, his eyes nailed to yours. "Look how you're taking it," he growled. "I'll fill you up... and still you can hold me so well." You gasped slowly, your cheeks hot and red. "It's too much... you're like that... large...»

He raised an eyebrow, his smile crooked and dismissive. "Does it really surprise you? What did you think, princess? That the Alphas were delicate?" You shook your head slowly, your eyes shining. "No... it's just ... I didn't think I would like it so much ... and that it was so big" His expression changed. Darker. More intense. He bowed to you, his lips almost against your ear. "Do you like it? Feeling full? To know that you can't run away from me, that I took you all in and I won't let you go until you're branded?"

"Yes..." you whispered in a trembling voice. "I like it, Alpha..." "So you talk," he said, and pushed out slowly, leaving you empty for a moment. But before you could even complain, it came back into you forcefully, making you moan. "M-move ... but ... slowly, please..." Your voice was low, subdued. He laughed. "No. Now I decide. You made the deal, remember? You asked me to tie you. This is the price. And you'll be mine all night." His thrusts became slow but decisive, deep, calibrated to destroy you with sweetness. Every time you heard him go back inside, you moaned against his neck, hungry, surrendering.

"You squeeze so tight ... fuck ..." he muttered as he looked at you from above. "I didn't know an omega could take it this way."

"Because ... because I'm yours..." Those words came out to you without thinking, spontaneous, and had an immediate effect on him. "Repeat," he ordered, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. "I'm... yours, Hee..." He looked at you, growled softly and pushed harder, deeper. Your legs tightened around his waist, your body was looking for his, desperate. "So good... so obedient ... A perfect little omega..." He ducked again, kissing you with hunger, as his cock filled and tamed you, one blow after another.

"And now... get ready, because when I knot you, it will be forever." His cock was so huge that you felt him press high, in the stomach, every push deeper than the previous one. Each blow barely lifted your pelvis, snatched an increasingly messy moan from you. Your legs closed around his hips with force, trying to hold him inside you as if you were afraid that he might leave. But Heeseung was not going anywhere. He was there to destroy you. "C-fuck... It's too much... you're too big ... I'm ... I'm— " you stammered, eyes half-closed, clouded with pleasure.

"What are you doing, huh? Tell me, little omega, are you breaking for my cock?» His voice was hoarse, deep, dripping with enjoyment. "S-yes ... Alpha ... I'm-I'm going crazy..." Your breath was broken, words broken with pleasure. "I can't... you're too much... you're filling me up too much..." Heeseung growled with satisfaction, sweat dripping from his temple as he continued to push into you with increasingly full blows.

"That's what you wanted, isn't it? Get fucked like a real omega. And now look how you're taking me ... you're my fucking prey.»

And you were. Your body had become one with his. Every fiber of yours vibrated to the rhythm of its thrusts. You felt the effect of Alpha running through your veins-hot, searing, like lava. Your muscles tightened more and more around him, held him, welcomed him. Then, suddenly, you felt him hitting something in you. A deeper, more sensitive area. Explosion.

"A-AH! HEESEUNG!"you screamed, your voice broken, as you clung with your fingernails to his back. "Oh God ... it's too ... too hot..." you stammered, trembling under him. He smiled against your neck, as he kept pushing against that precise point. "It's your body that's getting ready, baby. You're knotting. Your uterus ... feels it. And he wants me everything."

You felt your belly swell slightly. A sense of fullness that went beyond the physical. It was the bond that was forming, the knot that was coming. "A-Ah... Alpha... be—" The words came out to you with difficulty, as if you were drowning in pleasure. "I'm ... coming... you're draining me..."

"Very good. Come while I'm knotting you. I want to hear you squeeze it until the last shot."

His breathing became more labored, his thrusts slower but deeper. His hands held you still, and you, completely open to him, stammered only his name, like a desperate mantra. His knot began to swell inside you, slowly but surely, until it filled you in a way no one else could. Each push made it grow even more, and with each lunge your body strained more, unable to handle that superhuman pleasure. "Do you feel how big it is now?" he growled against your skin. "My knot is branding you from within. No one else can ever catch you. You're mine. Mine forever." He kept pushing hard into you, and you could only scream, the body shaken by continuous tremors, the legs clutching him with all the force. "Yes! Yes, I'm yours, Alpha! Only yours!"

"Good omega," he demoted you, in a rough voice.

"Now everyone will know. You're mine to take you in every way. Mine to fertilize you whenever I want. Your pussy is mine. Your body is mine. Every moan you make is for me." The knot was completely swollen now, blocking your every exit, and the feeling was driving you crazy. A heat wave swept over you, you screamed and scratched his back.

"I'm coming! Hee,—" His hand slid down, quick, and he started teasing your clit with expert fingers. You almost screamed from the overload. "N-no... I can't resist ... s-I'm ... I'm exploding!" you stammered between groans. "Your cock ... destroyed me! You're filling me up too much... too much... Heeseung!" Your body strained into a violent orgasm, a real mess that trickled down his knotted cock inside you. You writhed under him, not being able to stop the moans, completely consumed by pleasure.

"Look at you ... a good slut with all my knot in it. You messed up all over my cock.»

He praised you, but his hips did not stop. "And I'm not done yet... I can't stop, baby. The knot is swollen... but I want everything. To the last drop."

"Then give it to me..." you whispered, gasping for breath. "I want everything, I want to hear you... I want you to stay inside. Fill me up, Alpha ... make me yours ... all the way.» Heeseung looked at you with a dirty grin, eyes shining with animal instinct.

"I want you swollen with me. I want you full, smashed, marked. And when you're tired, I'll use you again." And with those words, he pushed again, slow but firm, as the knot throbbed inside you. His viscous cum slowly trickled out of your poor, hot, swollen, still pulsating pussy after knotting. But he didn't stop. He kept pushing inside you, slow, deep, with the knot still stuck, enjoying the way your body shook under his.

"I'm about to fill you again," he whispered in a broken voice, his breath warm against your ear. "You are mine. And I want you to feel it, deep inside." You moaned, the body already tired but still hungry, and then you screamed, bent with pleasure as you felt him ejaculating inside you with force, wave after wave, a boiling river that seemed to never end. Your belly swelled slightly, and your breathing became short. "It's too much... Hee ... it's so much ... you're ... filling me all..."

"You must be. I have to be sure." His thrusts became slower, almost sweet. But he didn't stop until he was sure he had branded you thoroughly.

When the knot finally began to deflate, Heeseung slipped out with a low, deep groan. The hot liquid dripped down your thighs, dirty, impudent. He took you by the hips with a force still present, but no longer violent. He drew you to himself. You huddled against him, your forehead against his bare, sweaty chest, and your body trembled, overwhelmed. Heeseung gently stroked your side, still slightly panting.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the voice calmer, but still hoarse. Nod quietly, without speaking. But after a few seconds, the silence was broken by a sob. One. Then another. Your shoulders trembled, your eyes filled with silent tears. He stiffened for a moment. Then he trembled.

"Did I hurt you?"he asked in a whisper, almost frightened by what he might have caused. He lifted a little on one elbow, looking for your gaze. "Look at me" But you didn't. For the first time, you did not obey. You huddled more, confused, vulnerable, fragile. Then he took you by the chin gently, but with his usual authority.

"princess... look at me. Now." And you, with tears in your eyes, finally looked up. Your eyes met. And without saying anything, you kissed him. A trembling kiss, which smelled of salt and surrender. Heeseung stood still for a moment, surprised. Then he reciprocated, slowly, sweeter than he had ever done. His hands clasped your face as your mouths merged into something new. Between kisses, you whispered: «Thank…» He just peeled off, his lips still close to yours, and laughed quietly, almost in disbelief. "I thought I had broken you... and instead you thank me?»

He shook his head, and stroked your side again, this time more slowly, almost protective. "You're really weird little omega." he said stroking your cheek "It was... beautiful," you whispered against his chest, still short of breath, his voice tired but sincere. Heeseung raised an eyebrow, a half-smile on his lips. "Beautiful, huh? You just got fucked until you lost your voice and now you're talking like you're out of a romantic movie."

You snorted softly, hiding your face in his arms, and he laughed. But that laugh was no longer sharp, nor cynical. It was soft, true. He stroked your hair with his fingers, then said in a lower voice: "You were brave, princess. To trust an Alpha like that... is not for everyone." You were silent for a moment, then you spoke in a low voice. "I didn't want to suffer. I didn't want to be used anymore..." He stiffened slightly, then took you by the chin and forced you to look into his eyes. "I can't promise you you won't suffer, omega. But one thing I can promise you: from now on you are mine.» His voice was deep, definitive.

"You have a new home, a new family. In my eyes you will always be an omega — but not just any omega. Inside you is my seed. My knot. And no male omega can get closer to you. Not even trying." You got a shudder. Not of fear, but of awareness. That connection was real now. Heeseung leaned slowly, her lips warm on your skin. He licked away his sperm that was still dripping between your thighs, slow, precise, as if he wanted to clean you and at the same time remind you that it was all his. His tongue moved where you had the marks of his bites, and he soothed them with moist, warm kisses.

"Hee… it tickles..." you whispered, chuckling softly. He paused for a moment and looked at you with a little grin. "You’re really strange, you know?" He lightly bit your thigh, pretending, then moved up and pulled you into his arms. "I’m sleeping with you tonight." He said it as if it were obvious. You looked at him, surprised. "Really? I thought... once we were knotted, I’d leave." He huffed, as if you’d said something silly. "You still don’t get it, little omega. You’re tied to me now. And I’m tied to you. We’re sleeping together. End of story." He pulled you against him, his broad chest against your back, and wrapped his arms around you, fitting you perfectly into his body. "Close your eyes. We’ll think about everything tomorrow. Now... sleep." And for the first time, you felt truly safe.

You woke up surrounded by a warm, almost reassuring sensation. The sheets were still damp from what you’d done the night before, and your lower belly throbbed slightly, a twinge that reminded you of every thrust, every moan, every possessive whisper that had broken and rebuilt you. You slowly turned and found him there. Heeseung. He was sleeping as if the world outside didn’t exist. His lips, slightly parted, formed an almost tender pout. His nose, large but perfectly proportioned, barely moved with his steady breathing. His red hair was a total mess: it fell messily over his forehead, and you remembered perfectly how you had tugged at it the night before, lost in pleasure. You blushed involuntarily. The little moles on his face seemed to be drawn by hand. And his arms—strong, warm, dominant—still held you close, as if he wanted to make sure you couldn’t escape even in your sleep. Then, without opening his eyes, he whispered in a hoarse voice: "Stop staring at me like that, or you’ll end up falling in love." You lifted your gaze, sighing. "You have an ego as big as your knot, you know that?" He opened one eye, then chuckled softly, that deep laugh that made you tremble even without meaning to. He pulled you closer, pressing you even more into his chest. "And it seems you liked both of them, princess." You sighed, even though you couldn’t deny it. Then, with a more serious tone, you asked him: "And now? What happens?" Heeseung gently caressed your back, his fingers slow, distracted. "Now, when you walk out that door, your scent will have changed. Everyone will smell it. Every alpha will know you’ve been knotted. Every male omega will keep their distance. And no one will dare touch you… because the scent will be mine." You swallowed. "And if... if Jiwon still tries?" Heeseung paused for a brief moment, then looked at you. "Are you more afraid of him... or your father?" You stayed silent, then whispered softly: "My father." He moved, pressing his forehead against yours. "He won’t do anything. Not as long as I’m here or my brothers are. You’re mine now. And no one touches what’s mine." You nodded slowly, but a small knot formed in your throat. Heeseung seemed to notice, but didn’t say anything. He slowly stood up, his muscles flexing as he stretched, and looked at you. "It’s time to see what’s happening outside this room." You were about to get up, but he stopped you. He bent down slowly and left a kiss on your forehead, unexpectedly tender. You looked at him, surprised. "And this?" He shrugged almost indifferently, though his tone was softer. "Post-knot ritual. All alphas do it with their mates." He was lying. And you knew it, but you didn’t say anything, even though you had seen something in his eyes that wasn’t there the night before: something strange, something dangerously close to a feeling.

PT2?

taglist: @stwrlightt @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @rikiscupid @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @m3wkledreamy @xylatox @ikeulove @nishikio @ancnymcnzjy @sofiafromvenus @kayjiguki @annovaz @kkamismom12 @forrds @inishij @amortenha @jayjw16enxp @sunnysidesins @isagistar @schniti-is-in-the-house @nyxiebabyyy @rubylace @petalsofink @asteriscoverde

Rebblog and comments are appreciated

1K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 5 months ago

Text

THIS GOT ME GIGGLING SO LOUD AND KICKING MY FEET SO HARD 🥹🫶🏻

in this economy? (part 1)

summary: you needed money. he needed a fake girlfriend. easy deal, right? except he’s your best friend’s boss. and you’re one minor inconvenience away from setting something on fire. he’s cold, rich, emotionally unavailable. you’re loud, broke, and very good at pretending this isn’t slowly turning real.

genre: fluff | fake dating

characters: ceo!heeseung x f! broke ass reader

words: 12k?

warnings: none in this part

a/n: damn didnt know tumblr had a word limit so heres a 2 parter i didnt realise would be a 2 parter

part 2

You were in your final year of college, living what could only be described as the off-brand version of Hannah Montana. Two jobs, endless assignments, zero glam. You had the double life down—student by day, overworked part-timer by night—except instead of rocking out on stage, you were rocking a polyester apron and a mild caffeine addiction.

Despite working like a hamster on an espresso wheel, your bank account stayed somewhere between “embarrassing” and “haunted.” Thanks, student loans. They followed you like an ex who couldn’t take a hint—except this one charged interest and occasionally sent you emails that made your eye twitch.

Still, you powered through. Broke, yes. Sleep-deprived, absolutely. But functioning? Debatable.

Fortunately, your best friend Jake—resident golden boy, and somehow always suspiciously well-rested—had just landed a Big Boy Job. He was now the personal assistant to the Lee Heeseung. Which sounded impressive… you guessed. You wished someone had warned you what a big deal this guy was, but no one did. You didn’t know. You really didn’t.

You were three bites deep into your third roll of bread, barely chewing anymore. It wasn’t about manners—it was about survival. Tuition was due, your rent deadline loomed like a jump scare, and your bank account balance looked like a bad joke.

Jake sat across from you at the glossy conference room table, watching you with an expression that landed somewhere between mild horror and disbelief.

“Slow down,” he said, nudging the breadbasket just out of your reach. “The bread’s not running anywhere.”

You glared at him, a crust still stuck to your bottom lip. “Easy for you to say. You’re not living on instant noodles and silent sobbing.”

He wrinkled his nose. “You literally had coffee and a spoonful of peanut butter for breakfast.”

“Because I couldn't afford a second spoonful.”

Flipping through your notes with one hand and clutching a half-eaten roll with the other, you tried to cram half a semester’s worth of marketing strategy into your already overloaded brain. You were multitasking. Efficient. A legend, if legends were broke and hungry.

Jake looked personally offended. “This is a workplace, you know. There are millionaires walking around here. You’re dropping crumbs on a seven-thousand-dollar chair.”

You paused mid-bite. “Seven what now?”

He tossed you a napkin with the kind of disappointment only a best friend could perfect. “Just—try not to look like a starving Dickens orphan if my boss walks in.”

You frowned. “Your boss?”

And that’s when the air changed—like a cold draft had slinked in through invisible cracks. Jake straightened. The playful glint in his eyes flickered out.

Speak of the devil in designer slacks.

The door creaked open, and in walked the heir to Luxen Technologies: Lee Heeseung.

Cold. Polished. Annoyingly symmetrical.

You promptly choked on your bread.

"That's your... boss?" you asked, staring as the man strolled in like he was walking on a Calvin Klein runway in slow motion, his coat flaring just slightly, hair annoyingly perfect.

Sure, he was good-looking. Objectively. Like, if you had a dollar for every sharp angle on his face, you could maybe afford two spoonfuls of peanut butter.

But you didn’t have time for men. You barely had time for yourself.

Here you were, fully dependent on your best friend and roommate’s snack stash and corporate pantry privileges, inhaling free carbs like your life depended on it—which, honestly, it kind of did. This had become your daily routine: roll out of bed, survive uni, raid Jake’s office for bread and maybe some emotional support tea every morning.

Jake sighed, already bracing for impact like someone who'd lived through this exact scenario too many times. “Look, you have to leave before he comes over and kicks you out.”

You snorted, entirely unbothered, and waved him off like he was being dramatic—which, to be fair, he usually was. Reaching for another roll from the meticulously arranged snack spread (which you were absolutely not supposed to touch), you said breezily, “He wouldn’t do that. Right?”

Jake didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gave you the kind of look reserved for people about to learn something the hard way. “He’s kicked people out for less,” he muttered, casting a wary glance at the growing constellation of crumbs you were generously distributing across the sleek, glass conference table—like you were decorating it for a carb-themed holiday.

Your chewing slowed. “Oh,” you said, mid-bite, hand frozen halfway to your mouth.

Silence.

The kind of silence that prickled.

Something shifted in the air, and you felt it—like animals sensing a predator approaching. You turned your head slowly.

And there he was.

Lee Heeseung. In the flesh. A few steps away and looking like he’d just walked into a crime scene. He was tall, sharp, and immaculately put-together, holding a tablet in one hand like it offended him. His eyes scanned the table, then landed on you—the uninvited guest currently mid-chew, hoarding bread rolls like it was your last meal.

If disapproval had a face, his was it.

Your brain, bless its useless soul, screamed: Run.

Your stomach had other plans: Finish the bread first.

And your hands? They casually reached for two more rolls while maintaining steady eye contact with the most terrifyingly attractive man you’d ever seen.

Honestly, if you were going to get kicked out, you might as well be full.

You glanced at Jake. With as much dignity as one could muster while chewing, you gave a dramatic bow, wiping a suspicious smear of butter off your cheek with the back of your sleeve. “Good day, Mr. Sim. I shall see you again tomorrow. Absolutely lovely businessy chat. So productive. Okay. Bye now.”

Jake snorted. Loudly. But you ignored him, choosing instead to hoist your laptop bag like a makeshift shield, holding it in front of your face in an attempt to avoid the burning scrutiny of one Lee Heeseung. Eye contact was the enemy. Recognition was a death sentence. And above all else: pantry access must be preserved.

If he ever put two and two together—that the very person chewing her way through his conference table like a feral carb-goblin was you—you were done for.

Goodbye, free bread. Goodbye, Jake’s fancy office snacks. Goodbye, dignity… not that there was much left to begin with.

You began edging toward the door, sidestepping like a raccoon caught red-pawed in the middle of a kitchen raid, trying not to look suspicious. Which only made you look so much more suspicious. And to make matters worse, the more you tried to vanish, the longer Heeseung stared.

His eyes followed you with a slow, assessing calm—like a predator trying to decide whether the strange creature in his territory was worth the energy to chase. He didn’t say a word. Just watched. Silently. Intensely. Unreadable.

Probably wondering who let the help in.

“Smooth,” Jake muttered behind his hand, clearly enjoying every second of your descent into awkwardness.

“Shut up,” you hissed, tripping slightly over your own bag strap on your way out, a quiet wheeze of panic slipping from your lips.

You didn’t dare look back until the elevator doors had closed behind you, safely sealing you in a metal box where embarrassment couldn’t reach you. Heart pounding. Mouth dry. Still tasting sourdough.

So that was him, you thought. Jake's boss.

And if he ever figured out who you were? You were screwed.

Meanwhile, back in the war zone formerly known as the conference room, Jake turned back around slowly to face his boss.

Heeseung didn’t look up. He was scrolling through his phone like none of that had just happened. “What time’s my meeting again?” he asked casually, thumb gliding across the screen.

“Three,” Jake replied quickly, slipping back into assistant mode with the smoothness of someone who really needed to keep his job. “Then another one at five with the UX development team. They’re presenting the wearable AI prototype.”

Heeseung gave a brief nod, still scrolling.

There was a beat of silence. Jake almost allowed himself to exhale.

And then—“Who was the girl?”

Jake blinked. “Girl?”

Now Heeseung did look up. One perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted just a fraction. “The one eating the bread like it owed her money.”

Jake choked. “She's just...she's my friend.”

Heeseung narrowed his eyes, the phrase clearly not satisfying. “Your friend. In my conference room. During working hours. Helping herself to my carbs.”

“To be fair,” Jake offered, voice cracking like a freshman in choir, “they’re technically Luxen’s carbs. Also, you don’t even eat the bread—”

“She wiped her mouth with her sleeve,” Heeseung said, looking deeply betrayed. “Do people do that?”

Jake had no idea if he was supposed to laugh, apologize, or call security on your behalf.

“She’s harmless,” he said quickly. “You won’t even see her again. I think."

Heeseung hummed, a noncommittal sound that somehow said everything. His gaze drifted back to his phone.

But Jake caught it.

A flicker at the corner of Heeseung’s mouth—so quick it almost didn’t happen.

Not irritation. Not disapproval.

Curiosity.

Almost.

—

Heeseung sighed.

It wasn’t that he hated his life. Far from it, actually.

He liked working. Loved it, even. There was something deeply satisfying about losing himself in spreadsheets, contracts, and a calendar so tightly packed it could give a scheduler heartburn. He was good at it—no, great at it. The kind of great that turned heads in boardrooms. The kind of great that earned nods of respect from executives twice his age. Even his notoriously competitive older brother and stone-faced father begrudgingly acknowledged his brilliance when it came to the company.

They weren’t jealous of his success—not exactly. Just… quietly resentful that their grandfather, the patriarch of the empire, seemed to have written Lee Heeseung in bold letters at the top of every metaphorical will, wish list, and family legacy blueprint. Heeseung was the golden boy. The prodigy. The one who could do no wrong.

Well—except in matters of the heart.

His grandfather, a man of steel nerves and silk pocket squares, had one tragic flaw: he was a hopeless romantic. The handwritten-letters, crying-during-Hallmark-movies, “Love conquers all” kind. Back in his youth, he had famously eloped with Heeseung’s grandmother after her parents forbade the match. It was the tale he recited at every family dinner like a dramatic bedtime story, wine glass in hand, pausing for emphasis with misty eyes and unnecessary violin music playing in everyone’s heads.

Now, he’d made it his personal mission to marry off every last descendant like he was casting a period drama.

And naturally, he took particular offense to Heeseung—the youngest, most accomplished, and most emotionally unavailable—refusing to so much as glance at romance. Not a flicker. Not a whisper. Not even the vague interest of someone who knew love existed in the same universe.

So imagine Heeseung’s horror when, despite all logic, he found himself distracted. Haunted, even. By the mental image of some girl with a mouthful of carbs, an unapologetic sleeve-wipe, and crumbs on her cheek like a personal brand.

Utterly ridiculous.

Infuriating, even.

There were precisely three things Lee Heeseung could not abide during work hours:

Unexpected visitors.

Long-winded conversations.

Family.

So, naturally, all three arrived in one dramatic flourish when the office doors slammed open with the subtlety of a wrecking ball wearing designer shoes.

“Seung!”

Heeseung didn’t glance up. He didn’t need to. That voice had the energy of a Broadway debut and the volume to match.

“Why is he here?” Heeseung asked flatly.

Jake froze mid-sip of his iced Americano, nearly choking on the absurdity of being blamed for something he had very clearly tried to prevent. “I told him not to—he didn’t even call—”

Heeseung finally looked up, just in time to watch the hurricane make landfall.

Grandpa Lee swept into the room like he still ran the place, all charisma and cologne, his cane purely decorative and his expression full of self-satisfaction. Former CEO. Founder of Luxen Technologies. Current full-time menace to his grandson’s blood pressure.

“Grandpa,” Heeseung said through clenched teeth, voice just shy of a groan. “You can’t keep barging in here every time you have a thought.”

“Of course I can,” the old man said cheerfully, already heading for the plush chair across from Heeseung’s desk. “It’s my building. My company. My bloodline. And also, you left Sunday dinner early, again, so I brought the discussion to you.”

Jake slowly sank into his seat, doing a decent impression of a man attempting to fuse with office furniture. He opened his laptop, not to work, but to pretend like he was somewhere—anywhere—else.

Across the room, Heeseung dragged a hand down his face, the weariness in his expression not from deadlines or meetings but from the familial storm that had just rolled in, all bluster and dramatic flair.

It wasn’t that Heeseung didn’t love his grandfather. He did. Deeply. He’d grown up listening to Grandpa Lee’s stories—some romantic, some insane, all borderline exaggerated. He loved the old man’s fire, his flair for theatrics, his unwavering belief in love.

But the thing was, Heeseung didn’t believe in love. At least not for himself.

Love happened, sure. It was cute in theory. Like puppies. Or those couples who held hands in grocery store aisles. But for Heeseung? The concept belonged in other people’s lives. He had things to build. A company to run. An empire to uphold. There wasn’t room in his carefully scheduled, emotionally vacuum-sealed world for candlelit dinners and grand declarations.

“Seung,” Grandpa Lee began, already digging into the contacts on his ancient phone like he was summoning a spell. “One of the kids—from—uh—SunTech, I think. His granddaughter—”

“Not interested,” Heeseung groaned, dragging his chair out and dropping into it like a man preparing for battle. He turned on his computer and focused all his energy on his Google Calendar, as if the overlapping blocks of color could protect him from whatever matchmaking scheme was brewing.

“She’s your age,” Grandpa insisted, swiping through what looked like a very poorly lit photo. “Exceptionally bright. Lovely eyes. Probably fertile—”

“I don’t care,” Heeseung said, without even blinking.

Grandpa Lee scoffed so hard, Jake briefly checked the air conditioning to make sure it wasn’t just the vents.

“Jake, my boy,” the old man thundered, turning to Jake with the dramatic flourish of a stage actor mid-soliloquy, “you best prepare an umbrella for tonight. The ancestors are going to cry from how rude my grandson is.”

Jake coughed behind his hand, clearly losing the battle not to laugh.

“Rude?” Heeseung repeated, eyes still fixed on his screen. “Didn’t you run away from your family to marry Grandma?”

“She was the love of my life,” Grandpa snapped, puffing out his chest like he was about to monologue about moonlight and destiny. Again.

“And didn’t you yell something along the lines of—what was it?” Heeseung pretended to think for a beat, then smirked. “Oh right. ‘Kiss my ass.’”

Grandpa Lee’s face wrinkled into an affronted frown. “You little—!”

He stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor, cane in one hand like he was about to duel.

Jake peeked up from behind his laptop, eyes wide, mildly alarmed.

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, looking irritatingly calm. “Just saying, if rebellion for love was good enough for you, maybe rebellion against love is good enough for me.”

“You’re twisting my legacy, you arrogant little–” Grandpa snapped.

Heeseung let out a long-suffering sigh. “I love you, Grandpa,” he said, not without sincerity, “I really do. But I don’t think—”

Whack.

The cane came down with expert precision, connecting with the top of Heeseung’s head before he could finish the sentence.

“Ow—! What the hell?! Grandpa!” Heeseung hissed in pain, one hand flying up to his hair as he recoiled in disbelief.

“That,” Grandpa Lee said, lowering his cane with the pride of a seasoned warrior, “was for being stupid. I may be old, but I’m not senile.”

Jake, valiantly trying to remain neutral, let out a sound that could only be described as a muffled snort, quickly masked behind his coffee cup. He was, unfortunately, enjoying this far more than his employee handbook allowed.

“You assaulted me,” Heeseung muttered, rubbing his scalp and glaring at the very man who used to tuck him in with bedtime stories about elopements and destiny.

“That wasn’t assault,” Grandpa countered, straightening his lapels. “That was discipline. You’re welcome.”

“You could’ve said something.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Jake quietly slid a packet of ice from the mini fridge toward Heeseung’s desk like a peace offering. Heeseung took it with a scowl, pressing it to his head as Grandpa settled back into the chair he had so dramatically abandoned.

“I’m not saying fall in love today,” Grandpa continued, voice a touch gentler now. “But open your eyes. One day, someone is going to walk into your life—and she won’t give a damn about your meetings or your title or your five-year plan. She’ll probably be a disaster. A whirlwind. And exactly what you need.”

Heeseung stared at him, unimpressed. “You’ve been watching those stupid dramas again, haven’t you?”

“I like them,” Grandpa sniffed, unbothered. “They speak to the soul. And unlike you, they have range. Emotional range."

Jake lost the battle with his laughter, letting it escape in a quiet wheeze.

Heeseung gave him a sharp look. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Not at all,” Jake said, already typing something into his notes app with far too much amusement. “Should I call Legal and ask about emotional damages from relatives?”

“Call a therapist while you’re at it,” Heeseung muttered.

Grandpa Lee stood again, “I’m not cancelling the date with SunTech’s granddaughter,” he announced, as if this declaration were final, written in stone, sealed by the ancestors themselves.

Heeseung groaned, already feeling the migraine bloom behind his eyes. “Grandpa. Cancel it. I’m not sitting around awkwardly sipping tea with some random girl—”

“Not random. SunTech’s granddaughter,” Grandpa corrected, his tone haughty, as though the corporate pedigree alone should be enough to send Heeseung into a frenzy of romantic interest.

“You don’t even know her name.”

“It’s something to do with the sun,” Grandpa said, waving a dismissive hand. “Sunny? Sunrise? Sunhwa? Something celestial. The details aren’t important.”

“Oh, I think they are,” Heeseung deadpanned.

“Seung.” His grandfather’s voice softened with a rare touch of sincerity. “Please. Just one date. One.”

Heeseung hesitated. Not because he was considering it, but because he was trying—desperately—to find a way out that didn’t involve disappointing the man who once taught him how to drive and also how to spot a bad merger.

“I can’t,” he said finally.

“And why not?”

Heeseung opened his mouth, then closed it. Thought. Thought harder. Came up with absolutely nothing. His brain was a clean whiteboard where excuses usually lived, but today, apparently, they’d taken the morning off.

He glanced at Jake. Still in his chair. Still sipping his iced Americano. Still laughing silently behind his laptop like this was a free improv show with catered snacks.

“Because…?” Grandpa prompted, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Jake?” Heeseung said, turning toward his assistant like a man clinging to the edge of a lifeboat.

Jake blinked. The sip of coffee in his mouth stalled somewhere in his throat.

Oh, no. Oh, no no no.

Heeseung’s eyes screamed Help me. Jake’s brain screamed Why do I work here. But somewhere between panic and pity, an idea emerged—terrible, reckless, and unquestionably effective.

Jake cleared his throat. “Because,” he said slowly, “Mr. Lee already… has a girlfriend.”

The room went still.

Utterly, impossibly still.

Heeseung blinked once. “I what.”

Grandpa Lee's gaze sharpened like a hawk spotting prey. “You what?”

Jake could feel the weight of both their stares, but he pressed on, fully embracing the reckless commitment of a man now in far too deep.

“Yes,” he nodded, his voice unnaturally bright. “He has a girlfriend. Very real. Extremely non-fictional. You just haven’t met her yet.”

Heeseung turned to him slowly, his face a portrait of stunned betrayal. “Jake.”

Jake gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Go with it.”

Grandpa folded his arms, skeptical. “And why haven’t I met this girlfriend?”

Jake hesitated for only half a second—just long enough for his brain to spin a web of half-truths and whole lies. “Well, it’s still new. They only started seeing each other last month. And Heeseung’s, you know…” He looked at his boss meaningfully. “Shy.”

Heeseung let out a sound that could only be described as internal screaming.

“Shy?” Grandpa repeated, eyebrows raised like the concept was foreign.

Jake nodded solemnly. “Very reserved when it comes to feelings. Doesn’t like to share until he’s sure. That’s why he hasn’t said anything. It’s still early, and he’s trying not to mess it up.”

For a moment, Grandpa said nothing.

Just stood there, his sharp eyes narrowing, gears visibly turning behind them like he was piecing together a very juicy puzzle.

Then—“It’s that… Bread Girl, isn’t it?”

Heeseung blinked. “Bread girl?”

The name rang a bell. Faintly. Something Grandpa had muttered earlier about a chaotic woman who’d been assaulting his company’s carb inventory with reckless abandon. Right. Jake’s friend. The one who'd been in his conference room. The one who chewed like it was a competitive sport and wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

Jake’s eyes widened in alarm. “You… you saw her?”

“She knocked into me on her way out of the conference room just now,” Grandpa said, nostrils flaring like he was reliving the moment. “Nearly knocked my cane out of my hand. I was ready to launch into a full lecture on manners and public decency—until I saw the amount of bread she had crammed in her arms.”

He smiled, clearly delighted. “That’s when I knew. She wasn’t being rude. She was just in love. Hungry and in love. My favorite combination.” And without further warning, he pulled Heeseung into a firm, proud hug. “Keeping my granddaughter-in-law well-fed. That’s my boy.”

Heeseung stood there like a mannequin in a hostage scenario, arms limp at his sides, staring over Grandpa’s shoulder with wide, blinking disbelief. His gaze locked on Jake, who looked dangerously close to either exploding with laughter or faking his own death.

Was he going to throw his best friend under the bus?

Apparently, yes.

“Yep,” Jake said with a helpless shrug. “That’s her.”

Heeseung opened his mouth to protest—but then paused. The wheels in his brain, previously stuck in panic mode, began to turn. Slowly, reluctantly, but undeniably. There was an idea forming. A stupid, dangerous, possibly reputation-ruining idea.

But it might just work.

“She’s… shy,” Jake added, already spinning the web a little further, clearly hoping Heeseung would not kill him in his sleep later. “Which is why she hasn’t been introduced yet. It’s still… new.”

Grandpa pulled back just enough to give Heeseung a squint of suspicion. “New?”

Heeseung hesitated.

And then, with the kind of sigh one gives right before jumping off a metaphorical cliff, he nodded. “Yeah. We, uh… only started seeing each other last month.”

“She’s still adjusting,” Heeseung continued, falling into the role with the grim acceptance of a man who’d rather fake a relationship than go on another one of Grandpa’s curated matchmaking setups. “Not really used to… all this.”

“All this?” Grandpa gestured around the office.

“The… CEO thing,” Heeseung said, waving vaguely. “The attention. The—uh—pressure. You know how it is.”

Grandpa narrowed his eyes further, scrutinizing his grandson with the intensity of a man deciding whether to believe a magician or demand to see what’s up his sleeve.

Finally, after a beat of silence: “So you’re saying the girl who wiped her face with her sleeve in your conference room... is your girlfriend.”

Heeseung nodded once. “Yes?"

Grandpa considered. Then smiled. “Well, damn. That explains the crumbs.”

Heeseung exhaled slowly, like he’d just avoided death by PowerPoint. “So you’ll cancel the SunTech date now?”

Grandpa chuckled, already heading toward the door. “Of course, of course. I would never interfere in true love. But now that I know she’s real…” He paused dramatically at the door. “I expect to meet her properly next week. Bring her to dinner. No excuses. And tell her to bring an appetite. There will be baguettes.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Silence.

Then Jake leaned forward, voice dry and just the right amount of judgmental. “You do realize what you just did, right?”

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, groaning as he pinched the bridge of his nose like he could physically squeeze the consequences out of existence. “Jake… I’m gonna need your friend’s phone number.”

Jake stared at him. Blinking. Processing.

“She’s going to kill me,” he muttered.

—-

You were halfway up the street, your backpack tugging at your shoulder and your feet dragging after a long day, when someone came jogging toward you from the bus stop.

“Hey! Hey hey—!” Jake’s voice rang out, breathless but chipper, his hand waving like he was flagging down a taxi.

You squinted at him. “Why are you running like I owe you money?”

He didn’t bother answering. Just grinned—way too wide, way too bright—and looped his arm through yours, tugging you along.

“I brought you dinner,” he announced, tone suspiciously light.

You stopped walking, brows pinched. “What?”

Jake held up a plastic bag in front of your face with exaggerated pride. The aroma hit you first, warm and familiar. You peeked inside.

Your eyes widened. “Is this—Sue’s? As in the good roast chicken?”

“With the chili oil packets,” Jake said smugly, clearly pleased with himself.

“You went all the way across town?” you asked, mouth falling open as you cradled the bag like it was gold.

He nodded, almost bouncing. “And there’s more.”

You narrowed your eyes. “More?”

“I ordered your bubble tea too. It should be here any minute.”

You gasped, hand flying to your chest. “Taro oat milk with brown sugar pearls?”

Jake mimicked a solemn oath, placing a hand over his heart. “Taro oat milk. Brown sugar pearls. No ice. Less sweet. Just how you like it.”

Your face lit up immediately. “You’re my favorite person. EVER!”

“I know,” he said, leaning into you with an overly sweet smile. “Just remember...that I love you. I love you. Deeply. Eternally. Unconditionally.”

You snorted, nudging him away with your elbow. “Okay, drama queen.”

But then he paused. His voice dipped just slightly, soft but steady. “I’m serious. I love you.”

You froze for a second.

Your smile faltered.

There was something off in his tone—too sincere, too heavy for a roast chicken and bubble tea run. You turned to look at him properly.

“Jake,” you said carefully.

He straightened, schooling his face into something resembling innocence. “Yeah?”

Your eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

Jake blinked, feigning confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You only say ‘I love you’ like that when something’s wrong. It’s your guilty voice. So what is it? Did you clog the sink again? Spill something on the couch? Sign me up for something I didn’t agree to?”

His laugh came out high-pitched and thin. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Jake.”

“It’s not bad,” he said quickly, holding up both hands.

“Oh my God,” you groaned. “What did you do?”

“It’s not illegal,” he added, stepping back slightly as you took a slow, threatening step forward.

“Jake.”

He held out the roast chicken bag like a shield. “Eat first. Yell later.”

You snatched the bag but kept your gaze locked on him, lips pressed into a flat line. “Talk.”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly stalling, eyes darting around like he was hoping a car would hit him and end the conversation.

—

The door to your shared apartment swung open with a slam, and you stormed in like a woman possessed.

Jake had barely made it through the front door before you launched yourself at him like a sleep-deprived hurricane.

“YOU—YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE—”

“Wait—WAIT—THE CHICKEN—!” he squeaked, still trying to kick his shoes off as you flailed your arms with righteous fury.

You were half-thrashing, half-swatting at him with the plastic bag still clutched in your hand, the scent of roasted garlic and chili oil trailing behind every slap. Jake yelped, stumbling backward as he grabbed the nearest couch cushion to shield himself.

“IT’S FIVE HUNDRED PER DATE!” he shrieked. “WHY ARE YOU YELLING—”

“I’M YELLING BECAUSE YOU SOLD ME LIKE I'M SOMETHING YOU CAN BUY FROM THE STORE!” you cried, swinging the chicken like it owed you rent.

Right then, Jungwon’s bedroom door flew open with a bang. His hair was sticking up in all directions, eyes wide with panic, an oversized hoodie hanging off one shoulder like it had lost the will to live.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” he demanded, voice still hoarse with sleep. “Is someone dying?!”

“HES A FUCKING IDIOT, THAT’S WHAT’S GOING ON!” you shouted, jabbing a finger at Jake like a prosecutor presenting Exhibit A.

From behind the couch cushion, Jake winced. “Okay, I understand that you're mad."

Jungwon blinked, processing. “Dude, what the hell did you do?"

"HE WANTS ME TO FAKE DATE HIS BOSS!” you screamed again, nearly vibrating with rage.

Jake raised a finger. “For money,” he added helpfully, as if that made the entire situation perfectly reasonable.

Jungwon stood there for a beat, then tilted his head. “...Is the boss hot?”

The entire room fell into silence.

You turned to Jake slowly, brows lifting. “Wait. Is the boss hot?”

Jake’s grin spread, lazy and far too pleased with himself. “You tell me. You met him.”

Your brain stuttered. Froze. Replayed the memory of a tall man in a dark suit, judging you with cold eyes while you stuffed your face with carbs like a gremlin.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, dropping onto the couch like gravity had finally won. “You’re all insane.”

Jungwon wandered over and sat beside you, already reaching for the plastic bag. “I’m just here for the roast chicken,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Can someone pass me a leg?”

Jake, still crouched like a man dodging emotional bullets, gently placed the bag on the coffee table like it was a sacred offering. Then he looked over at you, head tilted, eyes wide and hopeful.

“So,” he said softly, “can I explain now? No hitting this time?”

You stared at him.

He grinned anyway.

And unfortunately for him, he was still within arm’s reach.

—

You sat on the couch like a judge ready to deliver a life sentence, arms crossed so tightly your shoulders were starting to cramp. The look on your face could’ve wilted houseplants. Jake, for once in his life, had the good sense to sit on the floor at a safe distance, hands folded on the coffee table like he was about to pitch a startup you were morally opposed to.

Jungwon sat cross-legged between you, gnawing on a chicken leg and swiveling his head left and right like a referee at a very dramatic tennis match.

“So,” Jake began carefully, voice high and overly gentle, “first of all, I just want to say that I love and appreciate you—”

“No,” you cut in, eyes locked on him. “Start with the part where you volunteered me—your best friend, your roommate, your tragically broke companion in poverty—to pretend to date Lee Heeseung. The CEO. The multi-billionaire. Your boss.”

Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again.

Jungwon, through a mouthful of chicken, offered, “That guy’s scarier than my thesis supervisor. And mine once made someone cry over a missing footnote.”

“THANK YOU!” you shouted, pointing at Jake like you were about to sentence him to community service.

Jake threw his hands up. “Okay, okay, yes, I panicked! Grandpa Lee was in the office, demanding to know why Heeseung was single, and I didn’t know what to say! So your name just—came out!”

“Like a demon leaving your body?” you snapped.

Jake pointed a finger at you. “Also, this is kind of your fault!”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“HE SAID YOU BUMPED INTO HIM!” Jake practically shouted, voice cracking. “And he saw, like, four bread rolls in your arms!”

“It was three!” you yelled, scandalized.

Jake flailed. “Okay, THREE! Doesn’t change the fact that Grandpa Lee saw you, assumed you were stealing company bread, and decided obviously you and Heeseung were secretly dating.”

You stared at him. “In what world does that even make sense—”

“SO THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Jake yelled dramatically, pointing like you’d been caught on a crime scene.

You gaped. “I didn’t know the old man I bumped into was Heeseung’s grandfather! How is that my fault?!”

“I don’t know!” Jake shouted back. “But somehow it is!”

Jungwon raised a hand without looking up. “To be fair, you did look suspicious carrying that much bread.”

“I WAS HUNGRY!” you barked.

Jake groaned. “Look, I didn’t plan this, okay? It happened. It’s done. And now we just need to go along with it for a few fake dates—three, four tops—and we’re good.”

You glared. “This is literally fraud.”

Jake held up a finger. “This is capitalism—and you get paid. Five hundred per date.”

You opened your mouth to yell again—then paused.

Because five hundred… times four…

Your gaze dropped to the roast chicken on the table, suspiciously thoughtful.

Jake leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “You’re doing the math.”

“No.”

“You are.”

Jungwon didn’t miss a beat. “Two grand.”

“Shut up,” you and Jake snapped in unison.

You sagged into the couch like the weight of student loans had finally won. “He’s not even going to like me.”

Jake tilted his head. “He already noticed you. Asked about the girl who ‘wiped her mouth with her sleeve like she was raised in the wild.’”

Jungwon snorted so hard he nearly choked.

You exhaled, long and slow. “...Fine.”

Jake’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“But if this backfires,” you said, pointing a chicken drumstick at him with all the gravitas of a loaded weapon, “I’m shitting in your room.”

Jake didn’t even blink. “That’s fair.”

Jungwon nodded solemnly. “Reasonable terms.”

—

As Heeseung always said��often, and with great pride—he wasn’t the relationship type.

Too much work. Too much noise. Too many unnecessary emotions clogging up the schedule.

People around him dated like it was a seasonal hobby. Fell in love in spring, broke up by fall, recycled the whole cycle again by winter. But for Heeseung? It had never been appealing. He didn’t need anyone. He liked being alone. He thrived alone.

He was an expert at sidestepping dating scandals. A pro at slipping out of flirty conversations with a well-timed smile and a conveniently urgent phone call. He could survive dinner parties full of “When are you getting married?” aunties without so much as a twitch in his left eye.

Composed. Controlled. Untouchable.

Until now.

Now, he was sitting in his office—his very sleek, very expensive office—surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass, watching the Seoul skyline stretch out like a smug reminder that his life was supposed to be pristine.

And it was. Mostly.

His suit was charcoal grey, custom-tailored. His coffee, bitter and scalding, sat in its perfectly symmetrical spot on the table. His hair, of course, was slicked back with enough precision to win a military medal. Everything in his life was polished.

Everything… except this one absurd detail.

He exhaled slowly.

Jake.

Jake and his chronically reckless mouth.

This wasn’t the usual “Oops, I told the intern you’d review their pitch” kind of trouble.

This was “Oops, I told my grandpa you’re dating a girl you don’t know, and now she’s coming to a meeting at 2:30” kind of trouble.

Heeseung had handled high-stakes mergers. He’d stared down stone-faced investors and charmed half a dozen billionaires before lunch. But now? Now he was apparently in a fake relationship.

And paying for it.

Five hundred dollars per date.

He wasn’t sure which part offended him more—the relationship, or the invoice.

Jake had made it sound like she was some half-wild creature who pillaged the office pantry and vanished into the wind. Which… wasn't entirely inaccurate. But what Jake didn’t know—and what Heeseung would rather jump out the boardroom window than admit—was that he had noticed her.

Actually, he’d remembered her quite clearly.

Big eyes. Crumbs on her cheek. Confidence like she owned the place, despite clearly not belonging there. She’d looked him dead in the eye with a mouthful of bread and the pure, unbothered energy of someone who’d never been told “no” in her life. Honestly? It was a little bit impressive.

And yes. Fine. Maybe she was cute.

Not that it mattered.

Because Heeseung didn’t do feelings. He didn’t get involved. He didn’t believe in all that heart-fluttering, stars-aligning nonsense.

Cute or not, this wasn’t going to turn into anything.

It was just a favor. A fake setup. A temporary solution to a very loud grandfather.

That was all.

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and breathed through his growing irritation. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to perform feelings. He didn’t want to drink overpriced coffee with some girl pretending to be his girlfriend so his matchmaking grandfather could sleep peacefully at night.

A quick glance at his watch: 2:27 p.m.

—

You were pinching Jake’s side like your entire financial future depended on it.

“Ow!” he yelped for the third time, swatting at your hand. “Okay, I need those ribs!”

You didn’t care.

You were terrified.

No—beyond terrified. Every synonym in the English language applied. Petrified, horrified, on-the-verge-of-spontaneous-combustion. Your heart was trying to launch itself into space. Your soul was threatening to exit your body via sheer panic.

“Breathe,” Jake said gently, trying to peel your claw-like grip off his hoodie. “You’re gonna be fine. You look amazing. Honestly, if you weren’t my best friend, I would've totally tried to kiss you by now.”

“You’re not helping, Jaeyun,” you hissed, teeth clenched, eyes wide and manic like you’d just seen the end of civilization.

“Right, sorry,” he said quickly—still grinning, because Jake had zero fear of death, apparently.

You glanced at your watch.

2:25.

Ten minutes until showtime.

Your heart was doing Olympic-level gymnastics. Your stomach was performing Cirque du Soleil. Your brain was stuck on a loop of elevator music and “what if” scenarios.

You looked ahead—at the sleek, modern glass door of Heeseung’s office. Too clean. Too intimidating. Too expensive-looking. Even the potted plants screamed, You don’t belong here.

The panic hit like a freight train.

Without thinking, you grabbed Jake’s arm and yanked him back, nearly slamming both of you into a very offended-looking potted plant near the elevator.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, voice shaking, hands clammy. “I cannot do this.”

Jake blinked. “Whoa—okay. Deep breath. You can do this. You’re just nervous.”

“Nervous is messing up a group project. This is like—I don’t know—faking a relationship with a corporate cyborg while praying I don’t end up blacklisted from every job ever.”

Jake made a soothing gesture. “He’s just a guy. A guy in a very expensive suit with the social skills of a brick and a caffeine addiction that’s borderline medical.”

You let out a half-sob. “Jake, what if I say something weird? What if I trip? What if he hates me on sight and then cancels the whole thing and somehow calls my school and gets me expelled just for existing—”

“Hey.” Jake grabbed your shoulders, firm but gentle. “Look at me.”

You did. Barely.

“You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re gorgeous. You’re the only person I trust with this because you’re the only one who could handle him. Even when he’s acting like some emotionally stunted AI in a suit.”

You sniffed. “I hate you.”

Jake smiled, soft and annoyingly sincere. “Love you too. Now breathe, princess.”

You inhaled. Exhaled.

Inhaled again. Slower.

It helped. Barely. But it helped.

Jake stepped back and nudged you gently toward the glass doors. “Go in there. Pretend you like him. Pretend you’re not thinking about chicken. Smile. Look mysterious. Say something deep like, ‘I don’t really believe in love.’ He’ll be confused. That’s how you win.”

A dry laugh escaped you—half squirrel, half dying engine. But still. A laugh.

Your watch blinked again.

2:28.

Showtime.

You straightened your shoulders, fixed your expression into something halfway pleasant, and took a step forward.

Let the corporate fake dating games begin.

—-

Heeseung sat alone in his office, posture perfect, fingers wrapped loosely around a coffee cup. His suit was sharp, pressed so crisply it practically gleamed. His expression, as always, unreadable.

Except for the slight crease in his brow.

Because she was late.

He glanced at his watch.

2:31.

Not catastrophic. But still. He didn’t like being made to wait. Especially not by someone he was paying.

He exhaled quietly, sipped his coffee, and shifted his gaze to the window—

—just in time to watch a girl crash headfirst into the glass office door.

He blinked.

There was a muffled thud, followed by a dramatic, “OW, MY FACE!” and Jake’s voice yelling, “OH MY GOD, ARE YOU OKAY?!”

The girl stumbled back, one hand pressed to her forehead, the other still valiantly clutching a bubble tea with a bent straw and a leaking lid. Her dress was cute, her hair a little windswept, and her face was lit up in full, blazing embarrassment.

Heeseung stared.

“This is your fault,” she snapped at Jake, rubbing the growing red mark on her forehead.

“If you hadn’t roped me into this, I wouldn’t have walked straight into your invisible death door.”

Jake gasped, wounded. “My fault?! Are you blind?! The door wasn’t even moving!”

“I was panicking! I thought you were going to shove me through it like a sacrificial lamb!”

“You were already walking!”

“You said, ‘smile and act normal’ right before I hit it. What part of that was helpful?!”

“You looked cute! Until, you know… the impact.”

Inside the office, Heeseung remained still. Coffee in hand. Silent. Watching.

Through the glass, their chaotic little argument carried on without shame. You were waving your hands in frustration; Jake was holding your elbow with exaggerated concern, both exasperated and wildly entertained.

It was loud. Messy. Unprofessional.

It was… oddly funny.

A faint tug pulled at the corner of Heeseung’s mouth before he even noticed it.

Not quite a laugh. Not quite a smirk.

Just… the suggestion of something warm.

Jake finally spotted him and started waving like a man trying to signal an aircraft.

“Let’s go already! He hates tardiness.”

You turned.

Your eyes met Heeseung’s through the glass—annoyed, wide-eyed, bubble tea still clutched like a fallen soldier in one hand.

Heeseung raised his coffee in silent acknowledgment.

And nodded.

You swallowed. “Great,” you muttered. “He saw all of that, didn’t he?”

“Every second,” Jake said cheerfully.

You groaned and took a cautious step forward. Jake placed a hand on your back and gently—but undeniably—shoved you through the door like you were an offering to royalty.

He guided you across the room like a handler walking a nervous show dog.

“Mr. Lee,” Jake said smoothly, already shifting into his polished Assistant Mode. “This is my friend.”

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. His gaze remained fixed on his coffee mug, fingers tapping lightly along the rim like it was conducting an orchestra only he could hear.

You stood stiffly in front of him, hands clasped like you were about to deliver a public apology. Jake stood beside you with the smug energy of a man watching chaos unfold exactly as he planned.

Finally, Heeseung looked up.

His eyes moved from Jake to you.

To your forehead.

Back to your eyes.

“…You’re late,” he said flatly.

You blinked. “It’s 2:32.”

“Yes,” Heeseung replied. “Which is not 2:30. Like we originally planned.”

Your jaw twitched. “Psycho,” you muttered, just loud enough for a small god to hear.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

You straightened. “Sorry. I meant… yes, I know. Won’t happen again.”

Jake nudged your side and whispered, “Off to a strong start.”

—

The past five minutes were the longest of your life.

You stared at your feet. Then your thumbs. Then the floor again, like something might appear to save you. A trapdoor, maybe. Or the sweet embrace of the earth swallowing you whole.

Heeseung, meanwhile, had been staring at you. The entire time.

Not speaking. Not blinking. Just… watching.

Jake sat between you like a silent referee, sipping his coffee with the energy of someone watching a sitcom he’d accidentally created.

It was weird. Weird. Weird. Unbearably weird.

Finally, mercifully, Heeseung cleared his throat. The sound cut through the silence like a scalpel.

“I prepared a contract,” he said, voice calm. Businesslike. As if you weren’t about two minutes away from passing out in his office.

You blinked. “A contract? For something as—” you stopped, but it was too late—“as stupid as this?”

There was a pause.

Heeseung’s brow lifted. Just slightly. “Stupid?”

You froze. Your mouth opened. Nothing helpful came out.

“I didn’t mean—it’s not—I’M stupid,” you blurted, clapping your hands over your face. “That’s what I meant. I’m stupid. Please ignore everything I say for the next ten years.”

Jake choked on his drink.

You kept your face buried in your palms, wondering if anyone in the building would trade places with you. Janitor? Security guard? Plant in the corner?

Heeseung said nothing. For a long second.

Then, very dryly: “Good to know.”

You groaned.

Jake leaned over, voice low and unhelpfully cheerful. “You’re doing great.”

“Mr. Lee has written up a draft of the contract,” Jake said, slipping into full assistant mode, posture straight, tone clipped and professional.

You squinted at him. “Ew. Why are you talking like that?”

Jake glanced at you, then back at Heeseung with a sigh. “I’m working, you idiot,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh. Right.” You scratched your neck, sheepish. “Forgot.”

Across the table, Heeseung bit his bottom lip—subtly, quickly—but it didn’t go unnoticed. His gaze lingered on you, and for the first time since you walked into the room, something shifted. His eyes didn’t look annoyed anymore.

Amused, maybe. Just slightly.

Dangerously close to smiling.

Jake cleared his throat, snapping back to task. “In the contract,” he continued, “you’ll find a breakdown of the terms—including Mr. Lee’s expectations, your responsibilities as his… companion—” he winced a little at the word “companion,” “—and a list of things you’re explicitly not allowed to do.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Wear Crocs in public?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Actually, yes. Clause six.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

Heeseung finally spoke, smooth and unbothered. “I don’t joke about footwear.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

Jake leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee again like he was watching live theatre.

“Okay… and what else?” you asked, trying—and failing—to sound chill.

Jake cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “Clause five…Physical…”

Heeseung looked up, expectant. “Yes?”

Jake made a face like he was already regretting his entire existence. “Do I… have to explain it?”

“Yes,” Heeseung said calmly, without even looking up from the contract. “It’s in the terms.”

You squinted at him. “Terms? What is this, fake dating or joining the military?”

Jake pressed on. “Physical contact. Mr. Lee has stated that there should be… none. Or at least not without clear, mutual agreement. No uninvited touching. No sudden… anything. Basically—don’t grope the CEO.”

You choked. “What?! I wasn’t—Why would—That wasn’t even on the table—”

Jake raised both hands. “I’m just reading the clause!”

Your face went red. Hot. Instantly.

You turned to Heeseung, eyes wide. “Not that I was planning to touch you or anything! Like, why would I—Not that you’re—okay, you are technically—”

You made a sound that wasn't even a word and slapped a hand over your own mouth.

Jake let out a slow, gleeful exhale. “This is so much better than I imagined.”

You groaned and sank lower in your seat. “I hate it here.”

Heeseung, annoyingly composed, glanced up at you. His expression unreadable… but his lips twitched. Barely.

You swore he was enjoying this.

You had been in the office for an hour.

One full hour.

Sixty minutes of your life you were never getting back, spent listening to Jake read through a contract like a local news anchor trying to make tax reform sound exciting.

“…Clause twelve: Should the second party—meaning you—be asked to attend any corporate function, you will refrain from referring to the first party—meaning Mr. Lee—as ‘my sugar daddy,’ even in jest.”

You blinked. “That… needed to be clarified?”

Jake didn’t look up. “You’d be surprised.”

You slowly slid further down in your seat, gripping your bubble tea like it was the last tether to your sanity. Your legs had gone numb. Your dignity had long since packed its bags and fled the room. And the worst part?

You still had to sign this thing.

All this—for a whopping two grand.

Across the table, Heeseung was unmoved. He hadn’t spoken in the last twenty minutes, just sipped his now-cold coffee and occasionally made a small note in the margins like he was preparing for a stockholders’ meeting instead of a fake relationship.

Jake flipped the page. “Clause thirteen…”

You groaned. “There are thirteen?”

Jake looked up. “We’re only halfway through.”

You dropped your head to the table.

This was your life now.

—

You had officially entered hour two of your Fake Dating Orientation.

Jake, your overly enthusiastic best friend and traitor to your dignity, was seated across from you like a talk show host who’d been waiting all day for the drama. He’d already gone through the entire contract. Twice. And now, unfortunately, it was time for the “chemistry test.”

“We’re going to do a little practice,” he announced, clasping his hands together. “Let’s see how well you two can sell this.”

You blinked. “Sell what, exactly?”

Jake beamed. “That you’re in love, of course.”

You visibly recoiled. “Oh god.”

Heeseung, seated beside you, didn’t say anything, but his entire body tensed like he’d just been told he had to perform on a game show. His fingers gripped the armrest, jaw tight.

You glanced at him.

He glanced at you.

Then you both looked in opposite directions so fast it would’ve given a chiropractor whiplash.

Jake leaned forward, utterly enjoying himself. “Okay. Pretend you’re on a casual third date. You’re into each other. You’re comfortable. There’s hand-holding. Eye contact. Smiles. Soft laughter. Possibly some light touching of the knee if you're really ambitious.”

You turned your head just enough to catch Heeseung already looking your way. Your eyes met. Instantly, you looked back at the floor.

Your cheeks were burning.

So were his ears.

Jake let out the loudest, most exaggerated sigh in human history. “You two haven’t even held hands yet.”

“I don’t—this is ridiculous. I don’t need acting lessons,” Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair in mild frustration, clearly more flustered than he was willing to admit.

“Clearly you do,” you mumbled under your breath.

He turned his head slowly. “Your face is flushed.”

You raised a brow. “Your ears are red.”

That shut him up.

For a second, the two of you just stared at each other. Not blinking. Not smiling. Like two cats waiting to see who flinched first.

Then you both sneered. Simultaneously.

Jake, watching from the corner of the room like a director overseeing a painfully awkward indie film, clapped once. “Amazing. So natural. This is going great. Really convincing chemistry.”

You and Heeseung didn’t look away from each other.

He raised an eyebrow like this was some kind of silent battle.

You narrowed your eyes in return, mouth twitching.

Jake clapped his hands together like a game show host about to announce the bonus round. “Alright. Let’s take it out there.”

You squinted at him. “Out where? Hell?”

Jake ignored the comment. “The office. The hallway. The real world. You two need a test run.”

Heeseung exhaled through his nose. “This is stupid.”

Jake raised a brow. “Should I just go ahead and reschedule that SunTech date, then? I’m sure she’d love a Thursday dinner.”

Heeseung shot him a look. “You’re forgetting you work for me.”

Jake smiled sweetly. “And you’re forgetting you need me to fix this mess.”

You, meanwhile, were sprawled on the couch like an exhausted Victorian heroine. “I’m bored.”

Jake turned, hands on hips. “You’re getting paid five hundred dollars per date to fake-date a CEO. Try to look alive.”

“Fine,” you groaned, hauling yourself up. “Let’s get this over with. What exactly do you want us to do? Gaze longingly into each other’s souls and whisper sweet nothings about fiscal responsibility?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “She’s really dramatic.”

“And you’re really uptight,” you shot back.

Jake clapped again, delighted. “Perfect. Just like a real couple.”

You both glared at him.

“Okay,” Jake continued, stepping into director mode. “Stage one: casual physical affection. We’re going for subtle intimacy. Nothing over-the-top. Just enough to make people go, ‘Hmm. They might be sleeping together.’”

Heeseung nearly choked on air.

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Jake gestured between you like a choreographer. “Heeseung, arm around her waist. And you, try not to look like you’re being taken hostage.”

Heeseung looked vaguely alarmed. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Jake said cheerfully. “Like you’ve touched another human being before. Preferably without looking like it’s a tax audit.”

There was a long pause.

Then, reluctantly, Heeseung stepped closer. His hand hovered awkwardly near your waist like it had never been introduced to the concept of touch.

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re not disarming a bomb.”

He cleared his throat. “You’re… shorter than I thought.”

“I’m wearing flats.”

“Still. Noted.”

Jake watched with glee as Heeseung finally, finally placed his hand on your waist—so lightly it was barely there. You tensed anyway. Because apparently your nervous system hadn’t signed off on this level of contact.

Jake turned to you. “And you, sweetheart, try not to smile like you’re being held at gunpoint.”

You bared your teeth in what could only generously be described as a grimace.

Heeseung glanced at you. “That’s your fake dating face?”

“It’s a work in progress.”

“You look like you’re about to offer me life insurance.”

You sighed. “Okay, let’s not pretend you’re Mr. Suave. You touched me like I’m made of porcelain and trauma.”

“I didn’t want to overstep.”

Jake, now leaning on the doorway like a proud parent at a talent show, was positively glowing. “This is amazing. I should be charging admission.”

You groaned. “Are we done yet?”

“Almost,” Jake said, eyes twinkling. “Now walk out there. Just a quick lap around the office. Arm around her waist. Maybe whisper something flirty if you’re feeling bold. Bonus points if someone drops their coffee.”

You turned to Heeseung, who looked like he’d rather be hit by a bus.

He glanced back at you.

You both exhaled.

And in perfect, miserable unison, you muttered, “Let’s just get this over with.”

—-

At the entrance of Heeseung’s office, Jake had—because of course he did—another brilliant idea.

“Let’s try a… scenario,” he’d said, eyes gleaming like he’d just discovered a new form of social torture. “Something romantic. Circumstantial. Like you just got caught in a moment. You know, one of those ‘oh, didn’t see you there, just happened to be holding each other and laughing softly’ kind of deals.”

You and Heeseung stared at him in silence.

Jake pointed to the glass wall just beside the door. “Over there. That’s your stage.”

So now, here you were—pressed awkwardly to the side of the office entrance, standing shoulder to shoulder with Lee Heeseung, the human embodiment of a luxury watch ad.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

“I’m gonna be completely honest,” you whispered, glancing up at him. “I forgot the plan.”

He looked down at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “There shouldn’t be a plan.”

You frowned. “What?”

“This kind of thing,” he said, voice lower now, thoughtful, “should be natural. If we rehearse every little move, it’ll look fake.”

You didn’t respond right away.

Because honestly?

You had no idea how to make it look real.

You’d never been on a fake date before.

Actually, you’d never even been on a real date.

You’d spent your entire life chasing deadlines, side gigs, tuition payments, and discount ramen packs—love had never exactly made it into the schedule. Flirting was an optional elective you never had time to take. The closest you’d ever gotten to romantic tension was arguing with a vending machine.

And now here you were. Being gently stared at by a man with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and eyes like he was actually trying to understand you. You had half a mind to pull the fire alarm and flee.

Instead, you cleared your throat and said, “Right. Natural. Got it. So should I just… laugh at nothing? Flip my hair and pretend you said something charming?”

Heeseung smirked—actually smirked—and looked away. “You’re really bad at this.”

“I’m trying,” you hissed.

“I can tell.”

You gave him a sharp look. “Well, you’re not exactly oozing romance either, Mr. Emotionally Constipated.”

He huffed a small laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Do you always insult the people you fake date?”

“Just the ones who critique my performance before the show starts.”

He glanced back at you then, gaze lingering a bit longer this time. “You’re nervous.”

You stiffened. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re fidgeting.”

“No, I’m—”

“You keep tapping your fingers.”

You looked down. Your hand was, in fact, tapping against your thigh like it was performing a solo.

“…It’s called rhythm,” you muttered.

Heeseung just gave you a look.

And for a moment, just a moment, the tension shifted. Slightly softer. Slightly less unbearable.

Heeseung exhaled slowly and said, almost reluctantly, “Let’s just… be still for a second. Pretend we’re mid-conversation. Look relaxed.”

You nodded.

Neither of you moved.

From inside the office, Jake was pressed dramatically against the glass, holding his phone up like he was filming a nature documentary.

You both ignored him.

Mostly.

Then, quietly, Heeseung said, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

You blinked. “What, pretend to be someone’s fake girlfriend?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow.

You hesitated. Then sighed. “I’ve never been any kind of girlfriend.”

Heeseung looked at you.

Not judgmental. Not surprised.

Just… quiet.

And for the first time, you wished this moment wasn’t fake. Just for a second.

Then Jake knocked on the glass like a proud zookeeper.

“THAT LOOKS AMAZING!” he yelled. “Now do a forehead touch!”

You turned back to Heeseung, mortified.

“Don’t,” you warned.

Heeseung nodded. “Absolutely not.”

But when he looked at you again, his ears were pink. And this time, yours were too.

—-

The next few days were absolutely unhinged.

When Jake told you Heeseung was meticulous, you thought he meant the occasional Google Calendar reminder. What he actually meant was: this man plans your fake relationship like it’s a Fortune 500 company launch.

From Monday to Friday, he had everything scheduled down to the minute.

Monday

"Coffee shop. 2 p.m. Look approachable."

Those were his exact words. Not cute. Not casual. Approachable. Like you were a storefront. You showed up early—naturally—and promptly spilled oat milk across the table trying to jab your straw into your cup. It exploded like a dairy crime scene.

Heeseung just stared at you. Then slid a napkin across the table, deadpan. You muttered, “You're welcome for the entertainment.”

You made fun of his black coffee. “You drink it like a bitter old man who’s lost faith in humanity.”

He looked at your lavender oat milk iced monstrosity. “And your drink choices are one of a six-year-old’s.”

You laughed.

He didn’t.

But his eyes softened. Just a little.

Tuesday

PR strategy, according to Jake: “Be seen. Look adorable. Pretend you like each other.”

You: showed up in his office.

Also you: immediately raided the pantry and stole three muffins.

Heeseung watched from his desk. Said nothing. Pretended to type very seriously while clearly watching you.

You plopped down on his couch, opened your laptop, and made very dramatic “working” noises.

At one point, your laptop screen dimmed. Before you could even react, he walked over silently and plugged in your charger.

You blinked. “Oh. Thanks.” He just shrugged and returned to his desk. But you caught it. The ghost of a smile as he sat down. Like he was trying not to like you. Failing, obviously.

Wednesday

You accompanied him to a fake business lunch.

There were women in designer outfits, expensive perfume clouding the air, and stiletto heels you were sure doubled as weapons. They looked at you like you’d crawled out from under the table.You sat there in an old blouse your mom gave you, heart thumping in your chest, suddenly hyper-aware of the ketchup stain you thought you removed.

You fidgeted. Overthought. Considered hiding under the table.

Then Heeseung leaned in, so close his breath grazed your ear. “You’re doing fine.” That was it. Just those words.

And you didn’t remember a single thing after that. You just nodded and smiled and let those three words replay in your head like a calming song.

Later, in the car, you kicked off your heels like they’d personally betrayed you. He raised an eyebrow.

“A little dramatic, no?”

“I’ve suffered,” you whined.

He handed you a water bottle and rolled the windows down.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

You rested your feet on the dash. Caught him looking at you at a red light.

He looked away too fast. Suspiciously fast.

Thursday

You brought takeout to his office, unannounced.

He looked up when you entered, blinking like you’d just done something absurd. “You brought food?”

“Yes. Humans eat. Shocking, I know.”

You sat on the floor beside his desk. He joined you. In a full suit. Cross-legged like a model student, tie undone, sleeves rolled to his forearms. You offered him a dumpling. He took it. No hesitation.

You grinned. “Isn’t it so good?”

He chewed. “Greasy.”

“But good?”

He hesitated. “If I say yes, will you stop bothering me?”

“No.”

“Then yes.”

You pretended not to notice the way his eyes lingered on your face longer than they needed to.

Friday

You were late. By five minutes.

He texted: “Late.”

You texted back: “Cry about it.”

He didn’t reply.

You arrived out of breath, annoyed, hair windswept and bag hanging off one shoulder like you’d run a marathon to get there.

He just handed you a drink. Your favorite.

Didn’t say anything. Didn’t look smug. Just passed it to you with one hand and opened the door to a rooftop garden with the other. Of course he had a rooftop garden. Because he was secretly the male lead of a tragic romantic comedy and you were starting to hate how well the role fit.

You sat on the bench beside him, knees brushing under the table. “You’re so serious all the time,” you said, teasing. “Do you even know how to smile?” He scoffed.

“Do you even know how to tell a joke?”

“Excuse me—I am hilarious.”

“You’re… something.”

—-

You lay in bed, burrito-wrapped in your blanket, one arm tucked under your head and the other dramatically thrown across your eyes like a Victorian ghost overcome by mild emotional instability.

Your ceiling stared back at you like it knew.

And unfortunately, your brain did that thing it loved to do: play a full highlight reel of the past week.

It had been five days.

Five fake dates.

You were getting paid five hundred dollars per day to pretend to like Lee Heeseung.

That was the deal. The entire deal. Nothing more, nothing less.

And honestly? Not a bad one. Amazing hourly rate. Low stakes. You just had to hang out with a man who looked like a luxury perfume ad and acted like a spreadsheet given life.

You could do that.

You had survived retail during Christmas and three years of sharing a bathroom with Jungwon.

And yet… somehow, you were the one spiraling.

Because Heeseung wasn’t awful.

Actually—he was kind of…

Nice.

Underneath the sleek suits and emotionally stunted persona, he was… oddly considerate. The kind of guy who noticed when your laptop was dying and plugged it in without comment. Who remembered your coffee order after one chaotic spill. Who didn’t flinch when you shoved dumplings into his mouth like a sleepover buddy instead of a business partner.

And okay, fine. He was also really easy on the eyes.

With his annoyingly sharp jawline and those lips that were probably illegal in several countries. And the way his tie loosened around his neck by Thursday, and how he laughed—actually laughed—at your dumb joke on Friday.

You groaned and rolled onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow.

“Nope. No. Absolutely not.”

You barely knew him. You’d been fake-dating for a week. You didn’t even know what kind of music he liked. For all you knew, he could be a hardcore jazz saxophone guy. Or worse—he liked podcasts about finance.

This wasn’t real. You were faking it.

Professionally.

And still…

You wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand with no one watching. No “scene” to pull off. No Grandpa to impress. Just… you. And him. And the quiet weight of something unsaid.

You wondered—horrifyingly—what it would feel like to kiss him.

Just once.

Just to see.

You smacked your forehead. “I need therapy.”

The worst part? It wasn’t even entirely about Heeseung.

You were realizing, in a slow, sinking kind of way, that your romantic life was… embarrassing.

Jake, your best friend-slash-chaos goblin, didn’t count. Jungwon, your honorary brother, sure as hell didn’t count. And your last date had been someone who said “let’s split the bill” and then left you with it.

You hadn’t been around someone kissable in a long time.

And now you were being paid to fake-date someone who might actually ruin your life if you let him.

You groaned into your mattress again.

At this rate, you were going to fall for your fake boyfriend before your first paycheck cleared.

—

Heeseung was not sleeping.

It was after midnight. The city outside was quiet. His entire house was dark.

And all he could think about… was you.

Which made no sense.

You had shown up in his life like a whirlwind. Unpredictable. Loud. Crumb-covered. You drank rainbow-colored lattes and wiped your mouth on your sleeve and called his contract “stupid” without blinking.

But you’d also fed him dumplings on the office floor—the office floor—which he’d never sat on in his life. But then you’d whined, kicked your feet like a brat, and said, “Just join me. Or are you too much of a rich bitch to?”

And that was all it took for Lee Heeseung—the picture of corporate perfection—to sit beside you, cross-legged, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You’d teased him until he smiled without realizing. You’d let your legs rest on the dashboard and talked about nothing like it mattered. And you hadn’t cared who he was. Not the CEO. Not the heir. Just… Heeseung.

He exhaled, staring at the ceiling with all the enthusiasm of a man confronting his own emotional shortcomings.

Was he really catching feelings after five “fake” dates?

Apparently, yes.

Which was alarming.

He had spent his entire adult life navigating business galas and high-end blind dates with elegant, polished women. The kind who wore heels taller than his emotional range. He knew how to charm. How to play the part.

And yet none of them had ever stuck.

None of them made his hands twitch when they leaned in.

None of them made him smile like an idiot when they were five minutes late.

But you?

You with your loud opinions and easy laughter and tendency to steal muffins like they were currency?

You were dangerous.

And you were fake.

A fake girlfriend, in a fake arrangement, for a fake relationship.

And yet here he was—imagining what your hand might feel like in his. What your laugh might sound like in his apartment, in the morning, when you were still sleepy.

Heeseung groaned and dragged a hand down his face.

This wasn’t good.

He was supposed to be managing this. Keeping things professional. Keeping his head clear.

Instead, he was lying awake at 1:34 a.m., thinking about your smile and the way your voice got all soft when you called him out for being too serious.

God help him.

He was catching feelings.

And he was completely, utterly screwed.

part 2

1K notes · View notes

cloud-lyy · 5 months ago

Text

THIS JUST BRIGHTEN UP MY DAY

Where The Waves Rest 🌊 l.hs

"Love isnt about the rush-it's about the quiet moments that make you stay"

日 - 이희승 x y/n

♫ synopsis: Heeseung, a reckless city boy, moves to quiet Busan and meets you-kind and selfless. What begins as annoyance turns into something deeper, and he realizes Busan isn't just a place but where he finds something real with you ~ wc. 29.9k ✉️ warning: fingering, swearing, bullying, mentions of drinking, partying, hooking up, cumming inside, oral f recieve, kiss, name calling, begging, Seoul and Busan are not actually like what is described in the story.

mdni · smut · proofread · masterlist

Heeseung was never one to stick to plans—especially when they didn’t suit him. At 23, spoiled and used to getting his way, he had fully intended to meet his family that evening. But as the night went on, the thought slipped further from his mind, drowned out by the buzz of alcohol and the thrill of the moment.

One drink turned into two, then three, and before he knew it, he was inviting friends over. What was supposed to be a quiet night quickly spiraled into a full-blown party. Music blasted through the apartment, laughter echoed off the walls, and people—some familiar, some not—kept piling in. A few girls arrived too, making the atmosphere even wilder.

His family? They’d get over it. They always did. Right now, all Heeseung cared about was keeping the night going.

“Fuck, feels so good,” Heeseung groaned softly, sprawled out on the couch as one of his hook ups grinds slowly on his hardening member. The sounds of partying and laugher fill the room. The girl throws her head back as she grips onto Heeseung’s shoulders tightly, quickening the pace.

He was so drunk right now as he leaned his head back, placing it on the couch as he looked at everyone dancing or making out in his apartment. He was sitting on the couch, eyes lazily looking at everyone and everything. His eyes were half-lidded, his cheeks was flushed, his lips was dry and chapped from drinking. He was sitting there, a girl on his lap, and his eyes caught a girl sitting somewhere far away.

The girl on his lap leaned in, pressing her lips against his. Heeseung didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his eyes slipping shut as his movements grew rougher. His grip tightened around her waist, adjusting her position on his lap as he deepened the kiss.

“So, what’s your name?” she asked with a smirk, tilting her head to press soft kisses against Heeseung’s neck. He shivered slightly, feeling her warm breath ghost over his skin. His hands was on her thighs, his head was tilted to the side as he waited for her response. His eyes were dark as he looked at her, studying her from head to toe, focusing on her face.

But before she could answer, the door suddenly swung open, and Heeseung’s parents walked in. He froze. Shoot, he completely forgot.

His parents had known about his issues before, but they thought he had gotten over it. At least, that’s what he’d told them. The tension in the room thickened as they stood there, eyes widening in disbelief.

Heeseung’s heart sank as his parents stepped into the room, their faces a mix of shock and disbelief. His mother’s eyes widened, her disappointment cutting deeper than anything he’d ever felt. His father’s jaw clenched, his usually calm demeanor completely shattered as he took in the scene before him. They had been waiting for this moment—hoping for a sign of change, a chance to reconnect. But this? This wasn’t what they expected.

“You…” His mother’s voice trembled, and she couldn’t finish the sentence. Her eyes flickered between Heeseung’s face, the girl beside him, and then back to him, as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

His father, usually the one to stay composed, stood at the door, glaring at Heeseung with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “You told us you were done with all this,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “You promised, Heeseung. You promised.”

Heeseung remained silent, the weight of their words pressing down on him. His mind raced. He’d been hiding this for months—the late-night parties, the drinks, the temporary escapes, everything. They never knew. They didn’t see the darker side of him anymore—he’d kept it hidden, convincing them he’d changed. But now? There was no pretending.

His mother wiped away a tear, trying to hold herself together. “We thought you were trying to make something of yourself. But now… this?”

Heeseung’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. Anger surged through him, but beneath it, there was a deep, gnawing feeling of shame. They didn’t understand; they never did. They only saw the mask he wore.

“This has gone on long enough, Heeseung,” his father continued, his voice no longer calm. “We’ve decided. You’re going to Busan for the summer. To your grandmas.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face. Busan. The last place he wanted to go. It was everything Seoul wasn’t—quiet, peaceful, and far too simple. There was nothing to do but breathe clean air, to feel trapped in a place that lacked the chaos and freedom of the city. It was nothing like the fast-paced life he thrived in. No parties. No wild nights. Just silence and space. He couldn’t even imagine it.

“No,” Heeseung growled, his voice low with defiance. “I’m not going. I don’t need to—”

His father cut him off with a sharp look, his eyes cold and unwavering. “If you don’t go, you’ll lose everything, Heeseung. Everything. No more money, no more access. No more parties, no more friends. You want to keep living like this? Fine. But we won’t be a part of it. You’ll go to Busan, and you’ll stay there until this attitude of yours changes.”

The threat was clear, hanging in the air like a weight. Heeseung knew what it meant. Without their support, he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the reckless lifestyle he’d come to rely on. The parties, the clubs, the escape—it would all be gone.

His mind raced. He hated the thought of going to Busan, the last place he wanted to be. But what other choice did he have? His pride burned, but the reality of it all was undeniable. If he didn’t go, he’d lose everything.

“You can’t fucking do this to me,” Heeseung spat, but his voice lacked the force it needed. His eyes flicked to the girl sitting beside him, her presence a brief distraction from the storm of thoughts raging in his mind.

“You will go, Heeseung,” his mother said quietly, almost pleading. “We’re doing this because we love you. But if you keep going down this path, you’ll destroy yourself.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, the sting of their words hitting him in the chest. He didn’t know how to fight back. They had already made up their minds. Busan it was.

He felt trapped, his world closing in around him. He had no choice. The anger still bubbled inside him, but it was mixed with something darker—fear. Fear of losing everything. Fear of being stuck in a life he didn’t want.

He gritted his teeth. “Fine. I’ll go. But don’t expect me to change in that shit hole.”

As Heeseung’s words hung in the air, the entire room seemed to still, as if time itself had frozen. The girl sitting beside him, who had been so bold and confident moments before, suddenly seemed distant, her eyes flicking nervously toward the door where Heeseung’s parents stood. The music from the party had faded into the background, and the murmur of conversation turned to silence as everyone in the room, sensing the tension, fell still.

The laughter that had filled the room moments before seemed to vanish, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable quiet in its place. The glow of neon lights from the party didn’t seem so bright now. The laughter and the upbeat energy felt hollow, as if the very vibe of the room had shifted, the weight of Heeseung’s situation pressing down on everyone.

Some of the people near the back of the room exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether they should even breathe, while others stood frozen, unsure of what to do in the presence of such an awkward confrontation.

Heeseung could feel the eyes of everyone on him—eyes that had once looked up to him as the life of the party, the one who had everything under control. Now, those same eyes only saw a boy being torn apart by the reality he had tried to avoid for so long. The walls seemed to close in around him as the quiet stretched on, and even the pulsing beat of the music couldn’t seem to fill the silence that hung thick in the air.

His parents stood in the doorway, their disappointment palpable, as though they had pulled back the curtain to reveal the truth he had been hiding for so long. And now, it was too late. There was no escaping it.

The girl beside him had been a part of his world, the world he was about to lose, and she could sense it. Heeseung’s heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation—not just with his parents, but with everyone else in that room.

The weight of their collective gaze pressed into him, and for a brief moment, Heeseung wondered if he was ready to face what was about to come.

Heeseung’s fist clenched involuntarily, his chest tightening with frustration as the room stayed locked in silence. The realization that everyone was watching him—their eyes filled with judgment, curiosity, or just plain discomfort—made him want to scream. Instead, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. The sound snapped the spell of silence, but it didn’t seem to break the tension.

“Get out,” Heeseung’s voice was cold, his words cutting through the stillness like a knife. His gaze swept over the partygoers, most of whom looked caught off guard but didn’t dare to challenge him. He wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone’s doubts or protests, and his patience was wearing thin. “I said, get out. Now.”

A few people hesitated, exchanging glances, but the commanding tone in Heeseung’s voice brooked no argument. Slowly, the guests started to shuffle toward the door, murmuring to one another as they gathered their coats, their drinks, and their things. The hum of the room was replaced by the soft shuffle of feet on the hardwood floor, the clinking of glass, and the quiet rustling of bags. Heeseung’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, not bothering to look up until the last person made their exit.

As the door clicked shut behind the final guest, the room felt eerily quiet. Heeseung ran a hand through his messy hair, a frustrated sigh slipping from his lips. His mind was buzzing—flooded with anger, guilt, and the overwhelming sense of dread.

He looked around the room, his eyes taking in the mess that had been left behind. Empty cups, spilled drinks, scattered confetti, half-eaten snacks, and crushed cigarette butts were strewn everywhere. The room had now had a grim sort of emptiness. His gaze lingered on the overturned bottle of liquor by the couch and the wine glass that had rolled to the far corner of the room. The remnants of the night felt like a mockery now—a reminder of everything he was about to lose.

With another heavy sigh, Heeseung stepped over the mess, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he made his way to the couch, sinking into the cushions. The weight of the situation pressed on him, heavier than the mess in the room. He ran his hand over his face, trying to force the thoughts away, but they only kept coming—his parents, the move to Busan, the future he didn’t want, the life he was being dragged away from.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was slipping through his fingers, one decision at a time. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. But instead, he just sat there, surrounded by the remnants of his party, the remnants of a life he would never get back.

The sharp knock on Heeseung’s door tore through the hazy fog of sleep, his head throbbing in protest. His eyes fluttered open, the sunlight already streaming through the cracks in the curtains, searing into his skull like a punishment. He groaned, pressing his hands into his temples, trying to stave off the relentless throb. He wasn’t used to waking up this early—hell, he rarely woke up before noon—and certainly not with the pounding headache he had from last night’s excesses.

Another knock, louder this time.

“Heeseung, sir,” came the muffled voice of his butler, Mr. Song, from the other side of the door. “It’s seven o’clock. Your parents are waiting for you to pack. There’s an Uber waiting downstairs to take you to the airport.”

Heeseung groaned, his voice muffled as he rolled over in bed, throwing his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to block out the noise. The weight of last night’s events still hung heavy on him, his thoughts tangled in a chaotic mess. The last thing he wanted to do right now was get up, pack, and face the reality of his parents’ decision. He had expected some kind of pushback, maybe even a day or two of recovery time before the move—but no, they were already moving him out, right now.

“I told you, Mr. Song, it’s too early,” Heeseung muttered, his words slurred from the hangover. He rubbed his face, trying to fight off the dizziness that still clung to him. “Just… give me a few more hours.”

But there was no room for negotiation. The butler’s voice was firm, but still polite. “I’m afraid your parents insist, sir. The Uber is waiting.”

Heeseung swore under his breath. He felt the sharp sting of anger rise in his chest. His parents didn’t even care how he was feeling, how much of a mess he was right now. He wasn’t even sure how he’d function in an hour, let alone pack up his life and head to some backwater town in the middle of nowhere.

With a reluctant groan, Heeseung threw the covers off and staggered out of bed. His body felt stiff, sluggish, like it didn’t want to cooperate with him. The room was spinning as he tried to get dressed in a daze, throwing clothes into his bag without a second thought. Nothing mattered right now except getting out of here, away from this suffocating, overwhelming situation.

Twenty minutes later, Heeseung trudged down the stairs, bag slung over his shoulder, his eyes bloodshot, his hair sticking out in every direction, but still managing to look good. He made his way to the front door, where Mr. Song was waiting, looking as composed and unbothered as always. He didn’t say anything as Heeseung stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The Uber was parked at the curb, a sleek black car that seemed out of place for the mood Heeseung was in. The driver, a middle-aged man with a stoic expression, opened the door for him without a word, his butler following from behind with two of his suitcases.

Heeseung climbed in, slamming the door behind him with more force than necessary. The car pulled away from the curb, and the city—his city—began to fade into the distance. The towering buildings, the crowded streets, the hustle and bustle of Seoul—everything he knew and loved, all of it was being left behind. The thought made his stomach twist, but he couldn’t even bring himself to care. Not right now. Not when everything was already falling apart.

The drive to the airport felt like a blur, the streets empty and quiet at this hour. Heeseung stared out the window, watching the city he once called home disappear behind him, replaced by the distant skyline of skyscrapers, fading away into the horizon. He felt a gnawing emptiness, like something inside of him was already gone, a part of him left back in Seoul, in the chaos and the noise that now felt like a distant memory.

When the Uber finally pulled up at the airport, Heeseung felt like he was in a dream. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, or how much longer it would take before he had to face his new reality. The airport terminal was a blur of people, all rushing to their own destinations, while Heeseung just shuffled through the crowd like a ghost, disconnected from it all.

He was supposed to get on a plane to Busan, where his life was going to change completely. Where the quiet, peaceful life his parents envisioned for him awaited. The idea of it felt suffocating. He couldn’t even picture it. The thought of spending the whole summer there—maybe even longer—made him feel claustrophobic. What could he do in that boring, lifeless town? He couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was supposed to fill the endless quiet of Busan, how he would survive without the chaos of Seoul, without the distractions that had become his life.

As he settled into his seat on the plane, staring out the window as the plane began to taxi down the runway, Heeseung closed his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in his head. He was leaving everything behind. And for what? To be trapped in a quiet, peaceful town with nothing to do but reflect on everything he was about to lose.

The plane began to ascend into the sky, and Heeseung took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he gazed out at the receding city below. It was gone now, a tiny speck in the distance, and there was no turning back.

As the plane took off, Heeseung leaned back in his seat, feeling the uncomfortable, rigid fabric press against his back. The smell of recycled air mixed with the faint scent of his seat mate’s cologne—sickly sweet and too strong. His eyes flicked to the front of the cabin, where the luxurious first-class seats lay. He’d been accustomed to those kinds of perks, to having everything top-tier, handpicked, and ready to make his life as effortless and glamorous as possible. But today, he was stuffed into a cramped economy seat, barely any space to stretch his legs, wedged between an old man with a coughing fit and a younger guy who seemed to be enjoying the pleasure of his loud, sniffling nose.

It was a far cry from the private jets, the VIP sections, the smooth, uninterrupted flights he was used to. His parents, the ones who used to indulge him with every possible luxury, didn’t even bother to upgrade his seat. He was, to them, just another problem to deal with, a burden they were rushing to get rid of. In the past, they would’ve thrown money at him to make him happy, to give him everything he wanted, but now? Now they were treating him like a peasant, as if he was just some ordinary kid from a small town. He gritted his teeth, fuming silently.

The guy sitting next to him had already started hacking up a storm. Heeseung felt his eyes narrow in disgust as the man coughed loudly, barely covering his mouth. Every breath he took seemed to make Heeseung’s skin crawl, and he could feel his irritation growing with every second. The sickly-sweet cologne made it even worse, mixing with the heavy stench of the man’s apparent cold. Great. Just great. He was stuck with this guy for the next two and a half hours.

The flight felt endless, every minute dragging on as Heeseung fidgeted in his seat. The man next to him coughed again, and Heeseung subtly scooted away, as if trying to create some kind of imaginary barrier between them. His phone buzzed once, but he ignored it, not wanting to engage with anyone. His mind kept drifting back to the fact that he was heading to Busan. The more he thought about it, the more suffocating it felt. Everything he was leaving behind—the clubs, the late nights, the endless possibilities—was being replaced by what? Peace? Quiet? The thought made his stomach churn.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the plane began its descent. Heeseung glanced out the window, his eyes catching the sprawling landscape below. It looked nothing like Seoul—no towering buildings, no lights flashing in every direction. Just rolling hills and small, neat houses scattered across the land. He could already feel the weight of what was coming.

When the plane touched down, Heeseung could barely contain his frustration. He grabbed his bag from the overhead compartment and made his way off the plane with slow, deliberate steps. He had to act like he cared about this trip, like he was excited to be here. But deep down, the last thing he wanted was to spend any more time in this place.

As he entered the terminal, his eyes scanned the crowd, and then—there she was. His grandmother, standing with a bright smile and open arms. She looked so out of place here, in her modest clothes and welcoming demeanor. Heeseung’s stomach twisted slightly as she hurried toward him, arms outstretched, ready to envelop him in a hug. The kind of hug that always made him uncomfortable—too warm, too familiar.

“Heeseung!” she exclaimed, her voice full of joy. “It’s so good to see you, my dear!”

Heeseung couldn’t help but put on a forced smile as she wrapped him in a tight embrace, her arms squeezing him warmly. The smell of her lavender perfume mixed with the fresh air of the airport. It was so… homey, so real—everything that felt so distant and foreign to him now. He stiffened in her arms, allowing the hug to last just a moment longer than necessary before gently pulling away.

“Yeah, it’s great to be here, Grandma,” he said with a strained smile, trying to sound polite despite the frustration brewing underneath. He wasn’t going to let her see how annoyed he was. She was his grandmother, after all, and she was just doing what she thought was best for him. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

He saw the glimmer of joy in her eyes as she looked up at him, so full of hope, as if she hadn’t seen him in years, even though it had only been a few months. “I’ve already prepared your room and your favorite snacks.”

Heeseung gave a small nod, his mind already drifting to the dull, quiet life he was about to begin here. His thoughts raced as his grandmother continued talking, her voice filled with excitement about all the things she’d planned for him in the coming days. He nodded along, pretending to be interested as they made their way to the car. But every part of him just wanted to get this over with.

Busan wasn’t his world. It never had been. But for now, it was the one he was stuck in.

When they arrived at his grandmother’s house, Heeseung couldn’t help but notice how small and cozy everything was. The house, while neat and well-kept, had an old-fashioned charm—wooden floors, soft light filtering through the windows, and the faint scent of lavender that seemed to linger in every corner. It was everything Seoul wasn’t. Peaceful. Quiet. Incredibly… boring.

His grandmother smiled at him as she ushered him inside, immediately making him feel like a guest in a place he didn’t want to be. She moved around the small kitchen with ease, the sound of her soft footsteps on the wooden floor the only noise in the otherwise still house.

“Come, come, sit down. I made your favorite,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she placed a steaming bowl of ramen in front of him. Heeseung’s stomach growled at the sight, but his heart wasn’t in it. He knew his grandmother had made the effort, but he wasn’t ready to feel the warmth of her affection—not now, not in this place.

It was ramen, yes—his favorite—but it wasn’t the instant kind he usually devoured with a hangover back in Seoul. This was homemade, the broth rich and full of flavor, the noodles tender. Despite himself, Heeseung took a bite, the taste instantly familiar, but it did little to comfort him. Everything here felt too… simple. Too real.

“Thanks,” he muttered, not looking up from his bowl. He tried to force a smile, but it came out strained, as if he were pretending for the sake of politeness. He didn’t want to be here, but he couldn’t outright tell her that. She was doing her best, after all.

His grandmother sat down beside him, her hands folded neatly in her lap, watching him with gentle eyes. “You’ve been through so much, my dear. It must be hard, coming all the way here,” she said softly. Heeseung didn’t respond immediately, focusing on his ramen as if it would somehow distract him from the discomfort growing in his chest.

After a few moments of silence, she stood up. “I’m going to prepare dinner for later, but I seem to have run out of a few things. The fridge is a bit empty. Would you mind going to the market to pick up some fruits and vegetables for me?” she asked, her voice gentle, almost apologetic.

Heeseung froze. A few seconds passed before he even looked up at her, blinking as though he’d misheard. “What?” he asked, his tone a bit sharper than he intended.

His grandmother looked at him, slightly confused but still polite. “I just need some basics, fruits and vegetables, you know. It’s just a few minutes’ walk. Would you mind?”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched. A few minutes’ walk? He wasn’t used to walking anywhere, let alone doing errands. Back in Seoul, he had people to do this for him. His assistant, his driver, even his personal shopper—someone always took care of these small tasks. The idea of having to walk down the street to a market, something so… normal, felt beneath him. His fingers tightened around the bowl, his thoughts running wild.

“You want me to go… get groceries?” His voice had a bite to it now, but his grandmother didn’t seem to notice the irritation creeping in. She simply smiled warmly and nodded.

“Yes, just a few things. I’m sorry, I didn’t plan ahead,” she apologized, genuinely unaware of how much he despised the request. “It won’t take long.”

Heeseung’s mind reeled. This is ridiculous. His gaze flicked to the window, staring out at the serene street beyond, where everything seemed to move at a pace he wasn’t used to. It was like everyone here had all the time in the world—time to do things slowly, with no urgency. That wasn’t him. He wasn’t used to doing things for himself. It made him feel… small.

“Fine,” he muttered, standing up abruptly. His movements were stiff, his mood darkening by the second. He wasn’t used to this—this lack of service, lack of luxury. And here he was, forced to walk down the street for some damn fruit. It was like a slap to the face.

His grandmother beamed at him, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Thank you, dear. You’re a good boy.”

Heeseung didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he grabbed his jacket from the chair, pulling it on with as much effort as he could muster, before storming out the door without another word. The door clicked shut behind him, and as he stepped out into the quiet streets of Busan, the reality of his situation began to sink in. The silence of the town was almost suffocating. It wasn’t the vibrant, fast-paced life of Seoul, where everything was taken care of for him, where he was the one with the power, the one with the privilege.

Here? Here, he was just another person—doing his own errands, walking around like everyone else. The thought made his stomach turn, and for a brief moment, he hated everything about this place, about his grandmother’s simple, quiet life.

As he walked to the market, Heeseung couldn’t stop the growing resentment from bubbling up inside him. Every step, every moment spent outside of his comfort zone felt like an insult. He wasn’t sure how long he could last in this town, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t wait to get back to Seoul.

The streets of Busan stretched before Heeseung, calm and predictable, a stark contrast to the chaos of Seoul. The ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and freshly baked bread from a nearby shop, and the occasional chatter of pedestrians filled the air. To anyone else, it might have felt peaceful. To Heeseung, it felt painfully dull.

He walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward. His grandmother had sent him out for groceries, claiming the fresh produce here was better than anything he could find in Seoul. He didn’t care—he just wanted to get this over with. Every step felt heavier than the last, the slow pace of Busan gnawing at him, suffocating him with its quiet simplicity.

Just as he turned the corner, something—or rather, someone—slammed straight into him. A force knocked against his chest, sending him stumbling back, and before he could react, he heard it.

A sickening crack against the pavement.

His heart sank. His phone. His only lifeline to Seoul, his only source of entertainment in this slow, uneventful city—gone. His jaw clenched as frustration surged through him. Of course this would happen here.

“Are you kidding me?” he snapped, his voice sharp.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” a flustered voice rushed out.

Heeseung barely registered the words as his eyes dropped to the ground. The dread in his stomach deepened. His phone lay face-up on the pavement, its screen shattered beyond recognition. His fists curled at his sides, and he exhaled harshly. Unbelievable.

You crouched down quickly, picking up the broken device and turning it over in your hands. “I-I didn’t see you there,” you stammered, eyes wide with guilt. “I was in a hurry, I wasn’t looking—”

Heeseung snatched the phone from your grasp, inspecting the damage.

“Yeah, no kidding,” he muttered, his irritation rising.

You winced. “I’m really sorry. Let me take you to a repair shop—I’ll cover the cost.”

Heeseung scoffed, shaking his head. “As if there’s even a decent one around this shitty place.”

“There is,” you insisted, ignoring his attitude. “It’s not far from here. Please, let me fix this.”

Your voice was gentle, sincere. In Seoul, people either avoided responsibility or threw money at problems like this without a second thought. But you… you actually cared. And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that irritated him even more.

He glanced at you more carefully now, noticing the bags of groceries you were holding in your arms. What the hell? he thought. What’s she doing with those?

“Wait,” Heeseung began, a new question forming in his mind as he looked down at the bags. “You delivering groceries or something?”

You nodded, your eyes shifting slightly. “Yeah, I deliver groceries to Miss Lee every week. I was a bit late today, that’s why I bumped into you. I’m sorry again.”

Heeseung blinked, the name clicking in his mind. Miss Lee? His grandmother. He paused, feeling something shift inside him. He thought about the grocery list his grandmother had given him that morning. Had she expected you to come? That would explain why she’d sent him out, probably thinking you wouldn’t make it today.

“You… you deliver to my grandmother?” Heeseung asked, the realization hitting him slowly.

You nodded again, but there was a flicker of surprise in your eyes. “Yeah, she’s… really sweet. I’ve been delivering to her for a while now. Actually, I’m kind of shocked she has a grandson. She’s never mentioned you.”

Heeseung’s brows furrowed. She never mentioned me? That hit him harder than it should have. He had assumed his grandmother had at least said something about him, but maybe she hadn’t. It wasn’t like they had a close relationship. She probably didn’t want to bring him up to you. Why would she?

“I guess she never talks about me,” Heeseung muttered, a little annoyed by the thought. “She never told you about me?”

You shook your head. “No, never. She’s always so kind to me—invites me over for dinner every so often, but I never got the sense she had anyone close in her life. Just… her life here in Busan.”

Heeseung felt a strange mix of irritation and guilt at that. She was right—his grandmother had never mentioned him in a way that implied they were anything more than distant. But he hadn’t made the effort either. The thought stung a bit more than he was willing to admit.

You noticed the silence hanging between you and smiled softly. “Look, I know this probably isn’t the best first impression, but if you want, I can take you to that repair shop. It’s really not far, and I’ll cover the cost of fixing your phone.”

Heeseung rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of his frustration finally start to settle. “Fine. Lead the way. And… I guess thanks.”

You smiled in relief, nodding. He followed you as you walked, the bags of groceries still in your arms. His mind kept racing. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe it was something more. Either way, this was the first time in a long time that he was actually starting to think twice about his grandmother’s life, and what he might have missed in the years he’d kept his distance. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to be stuck here in Busan, but if things like this kept happening, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least, not with you around.

Heeseung followed you into the small shop, still feeling the weight of the broken phone in his hand. He was trying to figure out if this whole thing was a joke. First, he had to leave Seoul, and now, in the middle of this quiet little town, his phone had broken, and this was the only place that could fix it.

The repair shop wasn’t much. The smell of old coffee lingered, and the shelves were lined with spare parts and old phones, like a tiny tech graveyard. Behind the counter stood Jin, a guy with a relaxed vibe, scruffy beard, and a look that said he wasn’t going to let the chaos of life bother him too much.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jin greeted you with a nod, glancing at Heeseung before turning back to the counter. “What’s up today?”

“Hi, Jin. Sorry about the phone,” you said, dropping a bag of groceries on the counter. “It’s his. He’s having a rough morning.”

Heeseung shot you a look, then glanced at the man behind the counter. He couldn’t tell if the guy was serious or just doing his job, but when Jin smiled, he knew something was off.

“No worries,” Jin said, his voice easy. “You know you don’t have to pay for repairs, right?”

“Excuse me?” Heeseung’s voice slipped out without thinking. “What do you mean, no charge? I’m not asking for a freebie here.”

Jin held up his hands. “Relax. Y/N helps me out around here. She’s good people. Honestly, I owe her more than I can give.”

Heeseung blinked, trying to wrap his head around this. Y/N was helping some random guy with his shop… for fun? That didn’t sound like anything he’d ever seen back in Seoul. People helped each other there too, but it was always for a reason, always with something to gain. This? It was just… weird.

Jin chuckled, clearly not fazed by Heeseung’s confusion. “I’m not gonna charge you for the repairs. But you? You’re getting a new phone.”

A new phone? Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “What? You’re just giving me a new one?”

Jin shrugged, a little amused. “Why not? You’re lucky. I can’t think of a better way to repay Y/N for everything she does.”

Heeseung stared at the phone Jin handed him, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on. This wasn’t some charity. No one just gave stuff away like this. But here it was—a brand new phone, way nicer than the broken one in his hand. It was almost as if Jin didn’t even see a reason not to.

“Damn,” Heeseung muttered under his breath, still skeptical. “That’s… unexpected.”

“Yeah, well, Y/N’s a one-in-a-million kind of person,” Jin said with a grin. “Helps me with the shop, takes care of my kid… You won’t find anyone like her in Seoul. I promise you that.”

Heeseung just nodded slowly, the weight of the new phone sinking in. “Right. So… what now?”

Jin gestured toward the counter. “Take it. You’re good to go. Just don’t break this one.”

Heeseung didn’t really know how to respond to that. “I won’t.”

“Well, if you do, just come back. I’ll fix it for free—again,” Jin added, his tone light, like this was all part of some normal routine.

As you gathered your things, Heeseung hesitated for a moment, still not used to this whole vibe. People didn’t just give things away for no reason in Seoul. Here, everything felt different. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing yet.

You walked out ahead of him, the groceries still in your arms, and Heeseung followed with the brand-new phone, still staring at it like it was some kind of alien object. “Guess I’ll have to get used to this,” he muttered under his breath.

You turned to him with a half-smile. “You will. It’s not that bad, you know. Just… try to not drop that one on the pavement, okay?”

Heeseung gave a half-hearted chuckle, but it didn’t feel as forced as it would have back in Seoul. “Yeah, sure,” he said, his voice still a little dry. “But don’t expect me to become some… Busan saint overnight.”

You shot him a look, one eyebrow raised. “I’m not asking you to change. Just don’t break the phone again.”

Heeseung smirked, shoving the new device into his pocket, still not sure what he’d just gotten himself into. “Whatever,” he said. “I’ll try to keep it in one piece, I guess. But I’m still not a fan of this town.”

You just shrugged, looking ahead as you walked. “We’ll see. You’ll get used to it.”

Heeseung let out a breath. Maybe. Maybe not. But for now, it was one less thing he had to worry about.

As you both made your way back to his grandmother’s house, the weight of the grocery bags was starting to get to you. They weren’t heavy, but the repetitive strain of carrying them made your arms ache a little. Still, you didn’t mind; this was just another day in Busan. You glanced over at Heeseung, who was walking beside you with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His posture was stiff, and the way he scanned the surroundings made it clear: he wasn’t used to it here. He wasn’t used to any of it.

The small streets of Busan, with their peaceful rhythm, were a far cry from the chaos of Seoul. You couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be for someone like him. You could see the way he cringed at the silence, how his shoulders were hunched forward, as though he was actively trying to shrink away from the stillness of it all. It was almost funny, how someone so used to the loud, fast-paced life of Seoul could feel so out of place in this small, quaint town.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence as you walked, “tell me about Seoul. What’s it really like? I mean, it sounds like another world from here.”

Heeseung glanced at you, his lips curling into a brief, cynical smirk. “It is. It’s loud. It’s fast. The people don’t care. And it’s always… moving. It’s like you never stop, and it’s just… better, you know?” His words came out sharper than you expected, like he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You nodded, noticing the bitterness in his tone. “Yeah, but why did you hate it so much?”

Heeseung let out a breath and shrugged, his gaze drifting to the ground. “It’s the same shit everyday. It was fun, for a while, but then it just… got boring. No one really gives a damn. It was all just distractions. And I didn’t want that anymore. But this,” he gestured vaguely at the small streets of Busan, “this is just… too quiet. Too nice. It’s like living in a bubble. I can’t stand it.”

You blinked, surprised at the rawness in his voice. “So, you miss it? The chaos, the noise?”

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. He seemed to be weighing something, before he muttered, “Yeah. I miss it. I miss the parties. I miss the drinking. I miss just… having people around. Even if they don’t care about you. At least it felt real. Here? It’s like everyone’s walking around on eggshells, pretending everything’s perfect.” His voice grew more frustrated as he continued, the usual coolness replaced by something deeper. “I get it. I know why my parents sent me here. They think I’ll change, but what’s the point of change if it means… this?” He gestured around at the peaceful, quiet streets, the ocean breeze that filled the air with calm. “I don’t want to be stuck in this goddamn town, living this boring life with nothing to do but watch the world move around me.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in. You’d never met someone who hated a place like this so much. You didn’t understand it completely—after all, Busan had always been home to you, with its slow pace and comforting familiarity. But you could see how someone like Heeseung, someone who thrived on excitement, would feel stifled here.

“So,” you began, trying to shift the mood, “you think you’re going to go back to Seoul anytime soon?”

Heeseung scoffed, running a hand through his hair as he stared ahead. “I wish. But my dad’s made it clear: if I don’t stay here, I’m cut off. No more money, no more fun. Just this life.” His voice was bitter, each word laced with frustration. “It’s either this, or nothing.”

You shrugged, deciding not to press him further. It was clear he didn’t want to be here, but you weren’t sure what kind of life he really wanted either. You couldn’t blame him for feeling out of place, but there had to be more to him than just the party-boy act.

“Well, you could always go back to the city when you’re ready,” you said casually, though you didn’t fully believe it. You’d never seen someone so desperate to run away from something so peaceful.

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Instead, he glanced over at you as you carried the heavy bags. “You know,” he said with a hint of hesitation, “you don’t have to carry all that yourself. You could’ve asked for help.”

You laughed lightly, not even breaking stride. “Oh, I’m fine. It’s nothing, really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you always this stubborn? Don’t you have a boyfriend who could help with stuff like this?”

You chuckled at his attempt to steer the conversation away from the heavy topic, and without missing a beat, you shot back, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Heeseung gave you a quick glance, confused. “No boyfriend? Why not?”

You shrugged, your expression neutral. “I’m just waiting for the right person. I haven’t been in love yet, so I’m not in any rush.”

Heeseung scoffed, as if the idea of waiting for “the one” was absurd. “That’s stupid. Love’s just… a distraction. You’re telling me you believe in soulmates?” He seemed genuinely baffled by the idea.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding slightly. “I believe that when the time’s right, someone’s going to show up. Why rush it?”

Heeseung snorted, shaking his head. “Soulmates. That’s a nice fairy tale.”

You shot him a look. “Well, you don’t have to believe in it. But it’s nice to think that someone out there is meant for me, y’know?”

He didn’t answer. His expression softened just a little, but only for a second before he shifted the conversation again. “What about you, though? Why do you do all this stuff for people? I mean, you work for free. You help out with Jin’s shop. You take care of his kid, and for what? What’s in it for you?”

You smiled, the weight of the groceries beginning to feel heavier again, but you didn’t care. “I do it because it makes me feel good. There’s no catch. I just like making people’s lives a little easier, especially when they’re struggling.” You paused, glancing over at him. “Not everyone has the luxury of things coming easily to them.”

Heeseung didn’t reply right away, and for a second, you thought he was going to brush you off. But instead, he turned to you, his expression thoughtful, almost pensive.

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re right,” he muttered. “But… I still think you’re wasting your time.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Maybe. But it’s my time to waste, isn’t it?”

As you continued walking, you couldn’t help but notice that Heeseung was walking just a little bit slower now, his shoulders a little less tense. Maybe it was just the calm of Busan working its way under his skin, or maybe… just maybe, he was starting to understand what you meant. He had a long way to go before he’d admit it, but something in his expression made you think that, despite all his bravado, Heeseung wasn’t as sure of his life as he tried to seem.

When you finally arrived back at Mrs. Lee’s house, your arms were sore from carrying the heavy bags of groceries. You stepped through the door and were greeted by Mrs. Lee, who was in the kitchen preparing something.

“Oh, you’re back already?” she asked, surprised. “I didn’t expect you to bring the groceries. You didn’t come like usual, so I thought you must’ve gotten busy. So, I made him go out and get it for me.”

You glanced over at Heeseung, who was already walking inside with his usual disinterested expression. He seemed completely indifferent, clearly not in the mood for any kind of conversation.

“Well,” you started softly, your voice apologetic, “We kind of bumped into each other on the way here. I wasn’t paying attention, and… I accidentally broke his phone.” You paused, feeling a bit awkward. “I offered to take him to a repair shop to get it fixed, and that’s how this whole thing turned into an impromptu grocery run.”

Mrs. Lee chuckled lightly, giving you a warm smile. “You’re very kind, Y/N. Heeseung usually doesn’t let anyone help him.” She turned to glance at her grandson, who was already walking up the stairs, uninterested in the conversation.

“Well,” Mrs. Lee continued, “since you’re here, could you help Heeseung unpack his things? I’m sure he could use the help.”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Sure, I’ll help him.”

His room wasn’t what you expected. It was neat, organized, and… almost too perfect. The kind of room that looked like it had been arranged by someone who had little interest in making it homey. Everything had its place, and there was no sign of the kind of chaos that usually accompanies someone who had just moved in. Heeseung, on the other hand, stood off to the side, looking as uninterested as ever.

You started unpacking a bag of his things, trying to make the space feel a bit more lived in. As you did, you noticed something on the floor near his bag. You knelt down and picked up a box of condoms, surprised to find it among his clothes. What the hell is he planning on doing with those? you thought to yourself, feeling slightly uncomfortable, your cheeks heating up. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it was hard not to wonder about Heeseung’s lifestyle.

You placed the box back down in its spot, still trying to process the absurdity of it all. “This guy really brought everything with him,” you muttered to yourself.

Heeseung glanced over, his sharp eyes catching yours. “What? Judging the things I bring now?” His voice was cool, though there was a hint of irritation in it. “Something wrong with it?”

You quickly looked away, a little embarrassed. “No, it’s just… never mind.”

He smirked, a small, amused glint in his eyes. “Guess you’re not used to people like me, huh?” He leaned back against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Not everyone’s a small-town angel.”

You continued unpacking Heeseung’s things, your mind wandering as you tried to make sense of the absurdity of it all. His room, his stuff—everything seemed so out of place for someone who had just arrived in this quiet town. As you shifted through the bags, you couldn’t help but glance up at him for a second. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching you silently, looking completely at ease in his space, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Before you could stop yourself, your gaze lingered a little too long on him. Something about the way he looked—like he belonged in a magazine or a K-drama—made it hard not to stare.

You quickly snapped your eyes away, feeling a bit embarrassed, but before you could recover, Heeseung’s voice broke the silence. “You’re staring,” he said nonchalantly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if it was no big deal.

You blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t even look at you when he said it, his attention still on his phone. “I—uh, sorry,” you stammered, trying to act normal, but his smirk made you feel exposed, like he could tell you were thinking more than you let on.

Heeseung just shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Whatever.” His voice was casual, but there was a certain sharpness to it that you couldn’t quite shake off. Maybe it was because people in Busan don’t look like him a typical boy born in Seoul.

You focused on putting his things away, doing your best to ignore how your heartbeat had picked up just a little from the way he’d called you out. You weren’t sure why his words got to you so much, but there was something about him—something hard to ignore.

But you pushed the thoughts aside. You had enough to think about. “Let’s just finish this up,” you muttered under your breath, your hands still working, trying to keep your mind from wandering too far.

As you packed the last of his bags into the small wardrobe, you looked over at him again. He wasn’t paying attention to you anymore, his eyes glued to his phone. The way he just detached himself from everything around him was frustrating, but you couldn’t deny how interesting it was, too. He was so different from anyone you had met in Busan. You didn’t even think someone like him could exist here.

“Alright, that’s everything,” you said, trying to break the silence as you stood up. “Is there anything else?”

He looked at you then, like he was actually considering whether or not he had more to say. But before he could answer, his grandmother’s voice floated in from the kitchen.

“Heeseung!” Mrs. Lee called, her tone light and welcoming. “Why don’t you and y/nnie friend come have some tea?”

Heeseung gave you an unreadable look before turning to follow his grandmother into the kitchen. You shrugged, gathering your things as you followed him. Mrs. Lee, ever the gracious host, had already set everything out. The table was small, but cozy, and the warm scent of tea filled the room.

You sat down across from Heeseung, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation. It wasn’t your fault he’d been sent here. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t seem to want to be here, either. You weren’t even sure why you’d stuck around this long. But there was something about him—a puzzle you were determined to solve, even if he wasn’t making it easy.

Mrs. Lee beamed at the both of you, her hands clasped in front of her as she poured the tea. “You two must be tired after everything today,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m so glad you met my grandson. Heeseung doesn’t get out much in Seoul, so it’s good for him to have a new friend here.”

You smiled politely, but couldn’t help glancing at Heeseung. His eyes flickered over to you, but he said nothing. He was so quiet, so withdrawn, like he couldn’t care less. It made you want to say something, to ask him what he thought of all this, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.

“So, what do you plan on doing while you’re here in Busan?” you asked casually, trying to keep the conversation going.

He looked at you for a long moment before answering, his voice flat. “Suffer, suffer, and maybe some more suffering.”

“Really?” you said, almost wanting to let out a scoff. “Don’t you want to explore this city? It’s quite beautiful, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, his lips twitching slightly. “Guess you don’t know me very well, do you?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t think anyone does.”

Heeseung just smirked again, as if that was the answer he’d expected. The conversation shifted again as his grandmother asked about your family, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how guarded he was. You weren’t sure if he was scared of opening up or if he simply didn’t care. Either way, you were curious.

As the tea settled between them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were witnessing a slow-moving train wreck. It wasn’t your responsibility to fix Heeseung, but it didn’t stop you from wanting to know more. Whatever his story was, it wasn’t over yet.

The next morning, Heeseung was jolted awake by a knock on his door. Groggily, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 9 AM. To most people, that wasn’t so early. But for him? It was still the middle of the night. He let out a loud groan and buried his face in his pillow, the sheets tangled around his legs.

“Who the hell is knocking at this hour?” he muttered under his breath, his eyes barely open as he tried to fall back asleep. The sound of another knock echoed through the room.

“Come on, Heeseung, wake up!” a familiar voice called from outside.

He rolled over to face the door, his face still pressed into the pillow. He didn’t even want to know who it was, but the voice was unmistakable.

It was you.

With a resigned sigh, Heeseung threw off the covers and dragged himself out of bed. His eyes were half-lidded as he trudged over to the door and swung it open, trying to stifle a yawn.

You stood there, smiling brightly, almost too cheerfully for the time of day. You were holding a bag with what appeared to be snacks, and your eyes glimmered with excitement.

“Good morning, Heeseung!” you greeted, unfazed by his obvious lack of enthusiasm. “I hope I didn’t wake you up too early. But I thought today would be a good day to show you around Busan. You’re probably still not used to it here, right?”

Heeseung stared at you for a moment, still processing the fact that you were standing in front of him so early. He groaned again, rubbing his eyes. “Seriously? It’s barely 9 AM…”

“I know, I know,” you said, unfazed by his obvious irritation. “But trust me, it’ll be fun. You’ll get to see the popular beaches, the rivers, all the places people talk about.”

Heeseung had been dreading something like this. He wasn’t here to sightsee, and he definitely wasn’t interested in anything that resembled “fun” at this time of day. He was about to give a lazy refusal when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

“Heeseung, dear, you should go. It’ll be good for you.” Mrs. Lee’s voice floated from the kitchen. “You don’t want to spend all your time cooped up inside. You might as well get to know Busan better.”

Heeseung sighed, the last thing he wanted to do today was get dragged around a bunch of beaches and tourist spots. But what could he do? His grandmother had that look on her face. The one that told him he’d have to do it, no matter how much he complained.

“Fine,” he muttered, trying to mask his annoyance. “But I swear, if I get dragged to any crowded tourist traps, I’m out.”

You just smiled and handed him a bottle of water. “It’s not like that, I promise. Let’s just go enjoy the day.”

As the day dragged on, Heeseung found himself following you around the streets of Busan, though his mind wasn’t really there. He was hoping for some kind of excuse to get out of this whole ordeal, but as the sun rose higher in the sky, he noticed something. The quiet, peaceful atmosphere of Busan was starting to grow on him, just a little bit. He hated to admit it, but there was something different here. Something that he couldn’t ignore.

You led him to one of the most popular beaches in the area, and for the first time, Heeseung felt a little more relaxed. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was oddly soothing. The salty breeze hit him with a refreshing chill, and the scent of freshly baked bread and seafood lingered in the air.

Still, he wasn’t used to the tranquility of it all. It felt strange. He had never seen a place so peaceful, so unhurried. Seoul was the complete opposite—noisy, busy, everyone always rushing to go somewhere. But here, people just… existed. And you fit into that world perfectly.

As you wandered through the beach, you waved to almost everyone you passed, exchanging greetings with ease. Heeseung watched with a mix of confusion and awe. How did you know so many people?

“Morning, Y/N!” A man called out from a bench, waving as you passed. You returned the gesture, chatting briefly with him before continuing along.

“Hey, Y/N!” A couple of girls greeted, and you stopped to talk to them, laughing at something one of them said before you carried on.

Heeseung had never seen anything like it. People in Seoul didn’t talk to each other like this. There was always a distance between everyone, a sense of hurriedness that kept people from acknowledging one another. But in Busan? It was different.

“How do you know so many people?” Heeseung finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You smiled, unfazed by his question. “I’ve lived here my whole life. You get to know people when you help out around town. It’s a small place, so it’s easy to make connections.”

Heeseung couldn’t help but wonder how many people you helped on a regular basis. You seemed so comfortable in your own skin, so open to the world around you. It was something he wasn’t used to, and he felt a strange sense of admiration for you—though he quickly dismissed it. No, he didn’t need to start feeling anything for someone like you. You were different. Too different.

As the day continued, Heeseung couldn’t ignore the growing warmth in his chest every time someone smiled at you or waved. It wasn’t like anything he had experienced before. It wasn’t the kind of warmth he got from the noise and chaos of his parties back in Seoul, where everything felt empty and fleeting. This was something… real. But what was it?

By the time you had finished showing him the rivers, the markets, and some of the more popular landmarks, Heeseung found himself lost in thought. You were nothing like anyone he knew back home. You were kind, open, and honest in a way that almost made him uncomfortable. But it also made him feel something he wasn’t sure he wanted to feel.

As you stood on the beach, watching the sun slowly set over the horizon, Heeseung glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were looking out at the water, your face soft in the fading light. He couldn’t help but feel a strange pull toward you, something unfamiliar that made him uneasy.

What was this? Why did you make him feel like this?

You turned to face him, catching his gaze, and for a brief moment, Heeseung was struck by how easy it was for you to make him feel so… unsettled. He was used to being the one who controlled the situation, who didn’t let anyone in. But here you were, a complete stranger, and somehow, you had gotten under his skin.

But he didn’t want to think about it. It was stupid. It was just the peaceful atmosphere of Busan making him think too much. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by something like this.

So, he shoved the thought aside, letting the warmth in his chest fade away.

“Alright, I’m done,” he said, turning on his heel and starting to walk back toward where you had parked the car.

You smiled to yourself, following after him, though you had no idea what was going on inside his head.

As you both made your way back toward the car, Heeseung stayed a few steps ahead, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. He didn’t say much, and you figured he was still in his mood, probably counting down the minutes until he could return to his usual routine of partying and hooking up. He was still adjusting to this quiet, peaceful life, and you didn’t expect him to suddenly embrace it. Not yet, at least.

But you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in his demeanor. The way his eyes lingered on things a little longer than usual, the softening of his features when he wasn’t trying to hide it. Heeseung wasn’t someone who let his guard down easily, but there were moments when he looked almost… peaceful. It was a rare sight, and maybe that’s why you noticed it more than you should have.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked casually, watching as he glanced at the horizon, his expression unreadable.

Heeseung gave you a sideways glance but didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he shoved his hands further into his pockets and looked away.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice low. But there was something in the way he said it, a tinge of something that made you wonder if he was telling the truth.

“Well, thanks for coming today,” you said, your tone more sincere than you intended. ��I know you probably didn’t want to, but I’m glad you did. It’s good to get out once in a while, right?”

Heeseung just grunted, not really acknowledging your words. But you noticed the way his posture softened a bit, like the weight of his frustration from earlier had lifted slightly. You didn’t know if it was from the fresh air, the quiet streets, or maybe just the fact that for once, he didn’t feel so suffocated by the city, but something about him seemed a little… different.

As you reached the car, Heeseung leaned against it, crossing his arms and staring at the ground. His usual cocky demeanor had faded, replaced by something that you couldn’t quite place. Was it discomfort? Was he actually considering what you said? The thought made you pause for a moment.

“So,” you said after a beat, breaking the silence, “you really don’t like it here, huh? Busan, I mean.”

Heeseung didn’t look up. “It’s… too quiet,” he replied simply. “I’m used to Seoul. The noise, the people, the clubs, everything. It’s not the same here.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You don’t think it’s a little… better here? Peaceful, maybe?”

Heeseung snorted. “It’s boring. I don’t need peace. I need life. I need… energy. Excitement.”

You let out a small laugh, though it wasn’t mocking, just amused by his stubbornness. “You know, I think you’re going to need a little more than ‘life’ and ‘energy’ if you really want to make it here.”

Heeseung finally looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I can handle myself.”

The way he said it made you wonder if he truly believed it. But you didn’t press him. You could see he was still struggling with the idea of being in Busan, and while you didn’t fully understand his attachment to the chaos of Seoul, you knew better than to push too hard.

“So, what now?” he asked, suddenly more curious than before. “We head back to your grandma’s place, or what?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, we should probably get back. I promised her I’d help with some things.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Wait, what? You’re really that dedicated to helping an old lady?”

You chuckled at the way he phrased it. “Well, Mrs. Lee isn’t just an old lady, you know? She’s been a big part of my life for years. Plus, she’s always there for me when I need something. It’s the least I can do.”

Heeseung scoffed lightly, though there was no real malice behind it. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I guess you’re just one of those ‘do-gooders,’ huh?”

You looked at him with a slightly amused smile. “Is that a bad thing?”

Heeseung shrugged. “I don’t know. Just seems kind of… cheesy.”

You laughed lightly. “You’d be surprised how much people like a little kindness now and then.”

Heeseung didn’t reply, but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch upwards ever so slightly, like he was fighting the urge to smile. He quickly looked away, as if to hide it.

The drive back was a quiet one, with the occasional comment from Heeseung about how quiet Busan was or how “boring” everything seemed. But you didn’t mind. There was something calming about the quiet between you two, and you could feel the subtle shift in the air. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to appreciate the small things in life here. Or maybe he was just starting to get used to you.

When you reached Mrs. Lee’s house, you both got out of the car and made your way inside, the peaceful atmosphere of Busan seeming to wrap around you again. But this time, Heeseung didn’t complain. Instead, he followed you inside, and for a brief moment, you saw something different in his eyes—a sense of curiosity that had been absent before.

Maybe he didn’t fully understand it yet, but you could tell that he was beginning to.

Weeks passed since that day at the beach, and Heeseung had reluctantly started to adjust to life in Busan. It wasn’t like he had a choice. His parents had made it clear that he was here to stay until they thought he was ready to go back to Seoul—if that ever happened. He still hated the quiet, the slow pace, and the constant reminder that he was stuck here. But, slowly, he began to get used to it.

There was something about you that he couldn’t quite shake, though. You were always so calm, always so genuinely kind, and for the first time in a long time, Heeseung found himself looking forward to the moments you came over. He didn’t admit it, of course. He was still the same Heeseung—the one who kept his distance, the one who didn’t let anyone in too easily. But he started to warm up to you. He accepted that you were probably the only real friend he had here, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

You both followed each other on Instagram, and he found himself checking your page more than he wanted to. At first, he convinced himself that it was just because you were the only one he knew in Busan. You had a lot of pictures of the places around the city—the markets, the beaches, and the food. Sometimes he’d scroll through your stories, watching you chat with your friends, laughing with them, and living your quiet little life. It made something twist in his stomach that he couldn’t quite identify.

He hated how much he found himself looking at your posts, but it was like a habit he couldn’t shake. There was something about your smile, something about the way you seemed so… content, that had a strange effect on him. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or hated it. Either way, it made him miss you in a way that didn’t make sense to him.

It was a restless night for Heeseung. His mind kept racing, thoughts of you lingering in his head. He couldn’t shake the feeling, the strange sense of longing that made him feel more out of place than ever. He had convinced himself over and over that it was just because you were the only person he knew in Busan, that it was just the loneliness of the city playing tricks on him. But the more he thought about it, the more he knew that wasn’t the case.

He turned over in his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to block out the thoughts of you. But there they were, your smile, your laugh, the way you made him feel like maybe he wasn’t so far gone after all. He hated that he was thinking about you like this, hated how you’d crept under his skin. It didn’t make sense. Why you? Why now?

He glanced at his phone. It was 3 a.m. His thumb hovered over your contact, hesitation flooding him. He had been lying there for what felt like hours, debating whether or not to reach out to you. It wasn’t like him—Heeseung didn’t just call anyone at this hour, especially not someone like you. But the thought of hearing your voice, of not feeling so damn alone for just a few minutes, was enough to make his decision.

He pressed your name and waited, his heart pounding in his chest.

The phone rang once. Then twice. Before the third ring, your voice cut through the darkness.

“Heeseung?” you answered, your voice quiet but clear, as if you had been waiting for the call. It caught him off guard.

Heeseung didn’t speak right away. There was something about the way you answered, without any hesitation, that made him feel… stupid. Like maybe this wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it in his head. But before he could gather his thoughts, the silence stretched between them.

Heeseung’s heart pounded in his chest, the silence between them thick and awkward. He stared at the dark room around him, feeling the weight of the night settle on his shoulders. He had no idea why he even called. What was he doing? It was 3 a.m., for God’s sake.

The quiet hum of your voice through the phone pulled him back to reality.

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, your tone light and filled with that quiet kindness he had come to recognize.

He froze for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to answer. His mind raced, and for once, he was at a loss for words. What could he say? That he couldn’t sleep? That his mind had been running in circles with thoughts of you? That would sound ridiculous. He wasn’t the kind of guy to admit things like that.

He let out a sharp breath, trying to sound casual, as if it wasn’t bothering him at all. “I… I couldn’t sleep,” he muttered, shifting in bed, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Just… thinking.”

You were quiet for a moment, probably waiting for more, but Heeseung wasn’t sure how to explain any of this. He didn’t even fully understand it himself.

Finally, he broke the silence again, forcing himself to sound a little less awkward. “Anyway, I just—well, I guess I needed to hear a familiar voice.”

The words hung in the air, and Heeseung instantly regretted saying them.

Heeseung sat up in bed, the glow of his phone lighting up his face in the darkness of his room. He wasn’t sure why he’d called, and the more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. He could feel the silence stretching between the two of you before you finally spoke.

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, your voice soft and warm through the phone.

Heeseung hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable, and right now, all he wanted was to avoid it. His gaze flicked toward the window, the quiet, still streets of Busan mocking him as if reminding him of just how different this place was from Seoul.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. “Just… thinking.”

He didn’t know why that seemed like the most acceptable answer, but it was the truth, in a way. His mind had been racing ever since he’d gotten off the phone with his parents earlier that day, the weight of his situation still pressing down on him.

He heard you pause, then you teased him. “I thought you said my voice was annoying? What did you say I sounded like? A-”

Heeseung quickly cut you off, his voice low and defensive, “I didn’t mean that. I was just messing around, alright?”

You were silent for a moment, and he could almost picture you smirking on the other end, and that somehow irritated him. Why was he so flustered? Why had he even called?

He shifted again, a small laugh escaping your lips through the phone. “You’re such a liar. I knew you didn’t mean it. No one can resist my voice for too long.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, leaning back against the headboard. He didn’t know how to respond to that, especially when the truth was that his thoughts had been consumed with you ever since you’d showed him around the town. He didn’t get it. Why was he thinking about you now? He didn’t even know you that well.

“I’m serious,” he muttered, feeling that strange mix of frustration and confusion bubbling inside him. “It’s just… different here, you know?”

You responded with understanding. “Busan’s a lot quieter than Seoul. You’ll get used to it. It just takes time.”

Heeseung wasn’t sure if he believed that, but hearing your voice and your gentle words made him feel a little lighter, even though he hated to admit it. You had that effect on him, and he hated it.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, trying to brush it off. “I’m still not used to it.”

There was a long pause. He almost thought you’d hang up, but then you spoke again, quieter this time.

“You’ll be okay,” you said. “I know it’s not easy, but things will change, Heeseung. Just… take it one step at a time.”

Heeseung didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t know how to respond to something so simple, so calm. He wasn’t sure if it was because of your words or because he didn’t want to admit it, but something inside him shifted, just a little. Maybe he could make it through this place after all. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad with you around.

Heeseung leaned back against the headboard, feeling a strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. The silence between you both felt different now—not awkward, but almost… too comfortable. It was something he didn’t know how to deal with, not when he was still trying to make sense of everything in his head.

“I guess I’ll… try to get some sleep,” he said, his voice trailing off.

He heard you sigh softly on the other end, and there was that warmth again, the kind that only you seemed to give him, even when he wasn’t asking for it.

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, your tone light but with a softness to it. “But if you can’t, you know where to find me.”

For some reason, those words hit him harder than they should have. He wasn’t used to this—this kindness, this genuine care. You weren’t just some stranger anymore. You were someone he relied on, whether he wanted to admit it or not. And it made him feel… weird. Confused. Like he was losing control of something he didn’t want to lose.

“I’ll be fine,” he said quickly, trying to shake the feeling. “You should get some sleep too.”

There was a pause, and when you spoke again, he could almost feel the smile on your face. “I’m already asleep, Heeseung. You’re just dreaming.”

He let out a soft, surprised laugh, despite himself. “Yeah, right. Maybe it’s a nightmare.”

“Is that so?” you teased lightly. “Well, if you ever need help with that, you know where I am.”

Heeseung let out a breath, trying to steady himself. Your voice was too calm, too soothing. And it made him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Things he couldn’t explain.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his tone a little quieter than usual. It felt like there was something more he should have said, something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to put it into words.

There was a soft pause before you replied, and when you did, it was simple: “Goodnight, Heeseung.”

Your voice was gentle, the way it always was, and for a moment, Heeseung just sat there in silence, phone pressed to his ear. He wanted to say something back, but the words didn’t come. He didn’t know what to say anymore, not when his mind felt like a mess.

The line went quiet, and Heeseung just stayed there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, his thoughts racing. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what else to say. Maybe it was better that way.

Eventually, the call ended, and all Heeseung was left with was the quiet of the room and the confusing feeling in his chest. It was so stupid. He was being stupid. He just needed to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t let him. Not when you were still there, lingering in his thoughts.

The room felt too quiet now. Too still.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut it all out, but the silence was deafening.

The morning light filtered through the window, and Heeseung woke up with a strange heaviness in his chest. His first thought, as ridiculous as it seemed, was of you. He couldn’t help it. Every time he tried to focus on something else, your voice, your smile, or even the way you always seemed to look at him like you actually cared—it was all there, stuck in his mind. It bothered him. And, somehow, it felt… nice?

He tried shaking it off, getting up to do something—anything—to distract himself. He needed to forget about last night, about that stupid, confusing conversation, and the fact that he wanted to hear your voice again. But it lingered.

Around lunchtime, he thought about calling you. He almost grabbed his phone, thumb hovering over your contact, but then he stopped himself. He was being ridiculous. He couldn’t face whatever was happening inside his head. He didn’t want to think about it, especially not today.

So he sat there, doing his best to avoid thinking about the way his heart skipped whenever he thought about you.

But then the doorbell rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. His grandma was out, and he didn’t expect anyone else. He walked to the door, pulling it open, and there you stood—holding a bag of instant ramen. His favorite, of course.

“I brought you some ramen,” you said with a soft smile, almost like you’d read his mind. “I know you don’t have anything else, and it’s your favorite. I figured you’d be starving.”

He blinked, momentarily speechless. What was going on? He never expected you to show up with something like this. Maybe it was because his grandma had been gone, or maybe it was just because… well, you cared.

“Uh, thanks,” Heeseung mumbled, trying to sound unaffected, but something in his chest tightened again. “You really didn’t have to.”

You shrugged, not even fazed by his cool demeanor. “I don’t mind. Besides, I’m the one who taught you how to cook ramen anyway.”

He didn’t say anything to that, just followed you into the kitchen. You both started to prepare the noodles, the kitchen filled with the sound of boiling water and the small clinks of metal as you moved around. You even hummed a little, and Heeseung couldn’t help but notice how much more relaxed you were compared to him. You just moved like everything was easy—like things weren’t as complicated as he made them.

You handed him the ramen packets, asking, “Hey, do you want to pour in the sauce packets, or should I?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sauce packets?” He hadn’t even noticed that you were about to clean up the mess. The weird thing was—he didn’t mind.

Usually, he’d make a face and just leave it, or walk away, letting someone else clean up after him. But now?

Without thinking, he reached for the packets, uncapping them and adding them to the noodles. He glanced up at you. “I’ll clean up,” he said, surprising even himself.

You froze for a second, then let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, wow. Heeseung actually cleaning up? Someone must’ve slipped something into your ramen.”

He shot you a playful glare, even though he couldn’t help but feel a little defensive. “I’m not that bad.”

“You sure about that?” you teased lightly, though there was no malice in your tone. “I mean, I’ve seen you leave a mess all over the place. I guess I just didn’t expect this.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes but found himself laughing despite the teasing. It felt different—normal. Comfortable. “Well, guess you’re in for a surprise then,” he said, a bit of a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed again, shaking your head. “I never thought I’d see the day when you offered to clean up after yourself.”

He just shrugged, his gaze shifting away from you. “Maybe I’m not as bad as you think.”

You gave him a small smile, and for a moment, Heeseung felt a weird warmth in his chest again. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like it here. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

But he wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

“Thanks,” he said quietly as you set the ramen down on the counter. You didn’t respond immediately, just gave him a glance before turning back to the stove.

In the silence that followed, Heeseung couldn’t help but feel that annoying little feeling again, the one he couldn’t shake. The one that made his chest tighten whenever you smiled, or laughed, or even when you teased him. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t help it.

Maybe he was just getting used to you, or maybe it was something else. Something more than that. But Heeseung didn’t know how to deal with that. Not yet. He wasn’t ready for it.

As you stirred the ramen, the smell of the rich broth mixing with the scent of the seasoning packets filled the air. You could feel Heeseung’s gaze on you, even without looking at him. It was the way he lingered in the corner of your vision, the way his silence weighed in the room. The kitchen felt warm, but not just from the stove.

You ignored it, of course. What else could you do? You told yourself it was just his usual quiet presence, the way he existed in a space without ever really being present. But there was something different today. His gaze lingered longer than usual. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was watching you a little more closely.

“Something on my face?” you asked without looking up, trying to sound casual as you added a little more seasoning to the pot.

He didn’t answer immediately. You could feel him hesitate, as if unsure whether to respond or not. You turned, meeting his eyes briefly, and caught that familiar look. He was staring again. But he didn’t say anything this time, and you didn’t press him either.

Why would he be staring at you? He was so… different. The contrast between you two was glaring. Heeseung was everything that this town wasn’t. He was loud, a little reckless, and far too aware of his looks. His life in Seoul, all the people and parties and chaos, it was so far from the peaceful rhythm of Busan. And then there was you. You were nothing like that. Quiet, simple, and someone who knew how to exist without drawing attention. The thought that he might actually be… interested? That he might want to spend time with you? It didn’t make sense.

You shrugged it off, stirring the ramen again, pretending like it didn’t matter. But deep down, a small part of you wondered why he was still here, in this small, warm kitchen with you.

Your mind started to wander, your hands working mechanically while your thoughts drifted. Why would a guy like Heeseung, someone who could have anyone, even care about someone like me? You weren’t bad-looking, not by any means. But compared to him? He had that perfect, effortless charm. His looks were always on display. He walked with that confidence, like he owned every room he walked into. His smile had the ability to make girls swoon, and there was a certain edge to him that made people take notice. You, on the other hand, had always preferred to stay out of the spotlight. You liked being quiet, making others feel comfortable. You didn’t need to stand out. Yet, here he was, staring at you like you were worth his attention.

It doesn’t make sense.

You told yourself to focus on the ramen, but the weight of his gaze felt heavy, even when you weren’t looking. His presence, the slight tension in the air whenever he was near, was starting to become something you couldn’t ignore. It was unsettling, yet somehow comforting, a paradox that you didn’t want to unpack.

“Do you need anything else?” you asked, still trying to distract yourself from the thoughts swirling in your head. You were determined to act like everything was normal, to keep the conversation light. After all, you were doing a favor for his grandmother, not trying to figure out why Heeseung was suddenly acting different.

Heeseung didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on you. You could feel the weight of his attention, how his eyes lingered a little too long. Then, without breaking eye contact, he reached for a nearby towel, his voice low but steady.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

For a moment, the room was quiet again, only the sound of the ramen bubbling in the pot filling the space. You glanced at him briefly, only to catch him staring at you again, a faint smirk playing on his lips, almost like he was amused by something only he understood.

You forced yourself to look away, rolling your eyes internally. What is wrong with me?

It felt like something had shifted between you two in the past few days. At first, he’d been distant, almost standoffish. Now, it seemed like he was getting comfortable, letting his guard down little by little. It wasn’t much—just small moments here and there. A shared laugh, the way he’d offered to clean up without being asked, or how he didn’t argue when you came over to make him food. Even now, in this small kitchen, there was something different in the air.

But that didn’t change the fact that Heeseung was Heeseung, and you were just you. You were calm, introverted, and didn’t crave the drama or excitement he thrived on. His world was fast-paced, filled with people, parties, and noise. Your world was quieter, simpler, and more peaceful.

You tried to push away the irrational thought that he might actually be interested in you. What would someone like him even see in you? You weren’t glamorous or bold. You weren’t someone who had a reputation to uphold or a past that people whispered about. But Heeseung… He was different. Or maybe, you told yourself, you were seeing him differently than before. It was just a stupid feeling. Right?

Heeseung cleared his throat suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Did you just… laugh?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. “What?”

“Back there,” Heeseung repeated. “When I said I’d clean up, you laughed.”

You were silent for a moment, realizing that yes, you had laughed. But it wasn’t a mean laugh, or a mocking one—it was lighthearted. “I wasn’t laughing at you,” you said, trying to make it sound casual. “It’s just… you usually don’t offer to clean up. You’re more of a ‘leave it for someone else’ type of guy.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow at you, then leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “So, what, you think I’m lazy or something?”

You shrugged, pretending to be unfazed. “I didn’t say that. I just think it’s funny how you suddenly care about cleaning up.”

He snorted, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess you just don’t know me as well as you think, huh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes again but bit your lip to keep yourself from doing it. Instead, you just smiled, this time a little less guarded. Maybe it was because the conversation wasn’t so awkward anymore. Maybe it was because he wasn’t so cold anymore.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said quietly, “Maybe I don’t know you at all.”

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? You were starting to feel like you wanted to know him. The thought caught you off guard as you looked at him once again—like you really did want to understand why he acted the way he did. But how could you? Heeseung was nothing like you. He was loud, brash, and unpredictable.

But still… you couldn’t help the way your heart did this weird thing every time he looked at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was starting to notice you, too. And for reasons you still didn’t understand, that was starting to matter to you more than you cared to admit.

It was getting late, and the kitchen was starting to feel a little more cramped with the fading daylight. The last of the dishes had been cleared, the ramen long finished, and you were getting ready to head out. Heeseung was still there, leaning against the counter, looking a bit more relaxed than when you first arrived. You’d helped a family with their kid earlier—something you did every now and then, especially since Mrs. Lee had asked you to stop by and help with a few errands. It was one of those little things you did that made you feel like you belonged here, in Busan.

You stood by the door, gathering your things, feeling that slight pull in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to leave—it was just… something felt different now. The way Heeseung had looked at you earlier, like he was thinking about something, made you wonder. Maybe it was just because you spent time together today, or maybe because you were finally starting to see another side of him.

Heeseung glanced at you as you put your jacket on, his voice breaking the silence.

“You leaving?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was something more there that you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, I promised I’d stop by and help with a few things for a family,” you replied with a soft smile. “I’ll be back later in the week though.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment too long. You weren’t sure what to make of it, so you just gave him a nod in return, about to step out the door when—

“Hey, wait.”

You paused, turning back toward him.

Heeseung shifted uncomfortably, his hand reaching out slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out. “You… um, you’re alright? I mean, you’re okay with everything, right?”

You were a little surprised by his sudden change in tone. His usual cool demeanor had softened, just slightly. It was almost like he was… checking in.

“I’m good,” you said, smiling a bit more genuinely now. “Don’t worry about me. You take care, alright?”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering down to the floor before meeting your eyes again. “I will,” he muttered, almost as if he wasn’t sure whether to say more.

You left his house, and as the night crept in, a strange feeling gnawed at you. You kept thinking back to how he’d looked at you, how he’d asked if you were okay. You tried to shake it off, telling yourself it was just the way he was—his complicated mix of coolness and uncertainty. But then, as you reached your place, something else crossed your mind.

Heeseung was still in Busan. He wasn’t going back to Seoul anytime soon. And you were starting to realize that, even though you tried not to admit it, you did care about how he felt.

Heeseung lay in bed, the sheets tangled around his legs, staring at the ceiling. The night was too quiet, too still. He couldn’t sleep. His mind was buzzing with thoughts, most of them about you. It had been a strange day. Well, not strange, but different. He didn’t usually feel like this—like there was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that kept him on edge.

He didn’t know why he called you earlier. Maybe it was the silence of the house or the way his thoughts kept drifting to you. Maybe it was the feeling that, despite all the people in Busan, you were the only one who had made an effort to get to know him. He wasn’t used to that.

The way he’d looked at you earlier today, how he’d felt something when you smiled or when you said something that made him laugh—it was all new. And for some reason, it made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain.

He should’ve been thinking about how much he missed Seoul, the chaos, the late nights, the parties. That’s what he was used to, what he craved. Busan was too quiet, too peaceful. Too… different. But with you, things felt different too. In a way he wasn’t sure he liked.

He could feel your absence even now, like the air was too empty without your voice, without your presence.

The clock on his phone blinked 2:16 AM. He stared at it for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence pressing down on him. He didn’t know why, but his thumb hovered over your contact.

He tapped your name before he could think twice.

The call rang twice before he heard you pick up.

“Yeah?” Your voice came through the phone, soft and clear, like nothing had happened. Like everything was normal.

For a moment, Heeseung couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He felt stupid for even calling. What did he want from you? Was it just loneliness? Or was it something else?

“I… Yeah. I don’t know why I called,” he admitted, his voice trailing off. “It’s late. I just… thought about you, I guess.”

His words felt like a confession, and it made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to this. Not used to admitting he’d been thinking about someone else. His mind was trying to make sense of it all, but nothing was fitting into place.

He didn’t wait for you to answer immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch on for a few seconds, his heart racing in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge.

On the other end, you hadn’t spoken either. He could hear you breathing, the small, steady rhythm that felt so calm, so different from his own thoughts.

And that’s when he realized something. He didn’t want this silence to end. Not yet. Not when he was still trying to figure out why he felt so unsettled when it came to you.

“Are you still there?” Heeseung asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

You responded, your voice warm but tinged with confusion. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said, the words escaping before he could stop them. He sounded almost embarrassed. But the truth was, he didn’t. He didn’t know why he’d called, or why you were on his mind more than he cared to admit.

You didn’t say anything at first. Maybe you were still processing it, like he was. Or maybe you didn’t know how to respond. But after a few beats, you finally spoke again.

“I thought you said my voice was annoying,” you said lightly, teasing but not in a mean way. “What did you say I sounded like?”

Heeseung froze for a second, his mind flashing back to earlier when he had made that joke about your voice. Damn, he didn’t expect you to bring that up now.

He almost laughed, but it came out more like a groan. “I was just messing around,” he said, cutting you off. “It wasn’t like that. It’s just—”

Just what? He had no idea. He didn’t know why he was acting so awkward all of a sudden, or why he couldn’t just let himself relax when he was talking to you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head even though you couldn’t see him. “I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. That’s all.”

The words came out too easily, and for a moment, he regretted saying them. But something about it felt right too. It was true—he did want to hear your voice. He wanted to talk to you more. He just didn’t know what this was.

There was another long silence between you two, but it wasn’t awkward. Not really. Just… something else, something he couldn’t quite place.

After a while, Heeseung realized he couldn’t keep lying to himself about how he felt. There was something between you and him, something that was more than just friendship. More than just shared moments. And maybe that was what scared him the most.

But for now, he didn’t want to overthink it. He didn’t want to analyze the situation or try to make sense of something that didn’t need to be explained.

For once, he just wanted to hear your voice again.

The next day, Heeseung woke up to his phone buzzing, the bright morning light filtering through the blinds. The events of last night were still fresh in his mind—more than he cared to admit. He couldn’t stop thinking about that phone call. You were still on his mind, in that odd, unexpected way.

It wasn’t like him to care about someone like that. But here he was, wondering how your voice could be so easy to listen to, how something as small as a text or call from you could have him feeling all kinds of things he wasn’t prepared for.

He glanced at the clock—just after noon. Normally, he would still be in bed, lounging with no plans, letting the day slip by. But today, something was different. The thought of calling you felt like an impulse he couldn’t ignore anymore.

Before he could overthink it, he grabbed his phone and tapped on your contact.

It rang once. Twice.

“Hey,” he said when you picked up, his voice a little raspy. “It’s me.”

There was a brief pause before you answered. “Hey, you. What’s up? It’s still early for you.”

He rubbed his face, still half asleep. “Yeah, just woke up… couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Oh, really?” You sounded surprised, your voice light. “What kept you up?”

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t know… just stuff. Can’t really explain it.” He let out a soft sigh, realizing how little sense that made. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“About what?” you asked, and Heeseung could almost hear the curiosity in your voice.

He hesitated, unsure how to explain what was happening in his head. “I don’t really know. Just… things. It’s nothing. Whatever.” He waved his hand in the air as if you could see him through the phone.

“Okay…” you replied, then added, “So, what’s going on? You feeling alright?”

There was something about the way you said it, like you genuinely cared. And it made Heeseung uncomfortable, in the way that the truth always did. He scratched the back of his neck and exhaled, still unsure how to phrase it.

“I was wondering,” he started, voice trailing off. “If you, uh, wanted to hang out or something. I don’t know… like… do you want to get some coffee or whatever?”

There was a long pause on the other end, and Heeseung immediately regretted asking. He was being an idiot, right? Why would you want to spend time with him?

Then you spoke, your voice surprised, but also a little amused. “Wait, hold on. You… want to hang out with me? That’s a first.”

Heeseung’s face flushed slightly, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment creeping up on him. He rubbed his temple, trying to hide the fact that his heart had skipped a beat. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, it’s not a big deal. I just thought… I don’t know, it’d be cool.”

You chuckled softly, and Heeseung couldn’t tell if it was a good laugh or one of those teasing ones. But he didn’t mind, for some reason. “Alright, alright,” you said after a moment. “I’m down. I guess I’ll meet you in an hour at the park near the beach? We can grab some coffee afterward.”

Heeseung exhaled in relief, trying to hide the fact that he was more excited than he should’ve been. “Sounds good,” he said casually. “I’ll see you there.”

After ending the call, Heeseung leaned back against the wall, staring at his phone for a moment. That was easy, he thought. Why was he overthinking it so much? Hanging out with you didn’t feel as weird as he imagined.

As he moved to get ready, he realized that it didn’t matter what his reasons were. He just wanted to spend time with you.

So, maybe it was a first. But it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the beach. Heeseung and you had made your way down to the shore, where you laid out a picnic mat, the soft sound of waves crashing against the sand filling the air. The sky above was a clear canvas, fading into shades of pink and orange as the day began to wind down. It was peaceful, calming—everything that Seoul was not.

You sat cross-legged on the mat, your hair flowing in the breeze as you nibbled on some snacks you’d brought along. Heeseung had settled beside you, his eyes initially drawn to the vast horizon, but his gaze would inevitably return to you. You were so at ease, so calm. It felt different from anything he was used to back in Seoul. There, everything moved so fast—life was a blur of people, noise, and fleeting connections. But here, with you, there was something real. Something still and genuine.

Heeseung leaned back on his elbows, watching as you hummed lightly to yourself, your eyes lost in thought as you gazed at the ocean. The way you were so comfortable with everything around you, so familiar with the peace of this place, made him feel out of place. He shifted on the mat, moving a little closer to you, not really sure why. But something about you, about this town, felt like it was chipping away at his walls.

He cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence. “So, tell me, do you do this all the time? Come here and just… chill?”

You turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “Yeah, I guess so. Busan’s pretty laid-back. It’s kind of hard not to just enjoy the calm every now and then, right?”

Heeseung nodded, though his expression remained a little guarded. “I get it,” he muttered, his voice low. “It’s just… different, you know? I’m used to the noise, the chaos.”

You looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “And you don’t like it here?”

Heeseung hesitated for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. It’s just… too quiet sometimes.”

You chuckled, and for a moment, he felt like maybe he could let his guard down just a little. But then, without warning, his eyes caught yours, and there was something in the way you looked at him that made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly found himself leaning in, just a little closer, and before he knew what was happening, his lips brushed against yours in a soft, sudden kiss.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t something he expected. It just… happened. And for that brief moment, everything around him—the ocean, the beach, the sun—faded away, and all he could focus on was you.

When he pulled away, he noticed the shock in your eyes. You were frozen for a moment, clearly caught off guard, and Heeseung’s heart dropped. What did that mean? Was it just an impulsive thing? Or something else? His mind raced, but he didn’t have time to process it before you stood up, your face flushed with surprise.

“I… I have to go,” you said quickly, your voice shaky as you took a few steps back. “I… I’ll see you later.”

Before Heeseung could say anything, you turned and started running down the beach, your footsteps quick and light on the sand. His breath caught in his throat as he watched you go, the confusion eating at him. What the hell just happened?

He sat there for a moment, staring after you. His heart was still pounding in his chest, and his mind was a blur of thoughts. What was that kiss? Why did it feel so… different from everything else in his life? And why did he feel like a total idiot?

He looked at the spot where you had been sitting, the picnic mat still partially sprawled out on the sand. The gentle breeze tugged at the corners, and Heeseung couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just shifted. He hadn’t expected to feel anything—especially not like this—but he did. And it left him feeling vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to.

After a few moments, he stood up, brushing the sand off his pants. His mind was still racing. Why did he kiss you? What was that about? And why did it feel like the world had suddenly gotten a little bit quieter, even after you’d left?

He stood still for a while longer, trying to make sense of everything, but there was no answer. Only the waves crashing in the distance, the soft sand under his feet, and the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

As the sun began to set, Heeseung couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last time things felt simple. Maybe that was the way it always went with him—he was used to chaos, to distractions, to the fast-paced life of Seoul. But now, in this peaceful town, with you, things felt different. Too different. And it scared him.

It was another restless night. Heeseung lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, the familiar weight of uncertainty pressing on him. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. His mind kept replaying the moment you ran off from the beach after that kiss. The look on your face—shocked, confused, maybe even a little hurt—lingered in his mind. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. He didn’t plan it. But he couldn’t ignore the way his heart had raced the second his lips met yours, and how everything felt so… right, despite the chaos in his head.

He turned over, grabbing his phone from the nightstand, his thumb hovering over your contact. He wanted to hear your voice. He wanted to know if you were okay, if everything was alright after that awkward moment. He needed to know.

But when he hit the call button and waited, the phone rang… and rang… and rang.

He furrowed his brow, his thumb tapping impatiently on the screen. The ringing continued, and he frowned deeper. Normally, you always picked up. Even if it was late, you would answer, offering him some kind of comfort, even if it was just through a simple greeting.

But not tonight.

Heeseung bit his lip, frustration building in his chest. What if something happened? What if you were mad? What if something was wrong? Why wasn’t you picking up? You always did.

The silence in his room felt suffocating. The weight of his thoughts, his confusion, his stupid mistake on the beach all added up in the heavy silence. He couldn’t lie to himself. He was worried. Not just because of the kiss, but because the thought of you being upset—or worse, hurt—bothered him more than it should have.

The ringing stopped, and the voicemail greeting came on, the sound of your voice filling his ears. “Hey, it’s me. Leave a message!”

He didn’t even bother leaving a message. What could he say? He wasn’t sure what he was feeling himself.

He hung up abruptly, frustration bubbling up inside him.

Without thinking, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, threw off the covers, and got out of bed. He had to do something. He couldn’t just lie there, wondering, waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

He quietly slipped out of the room, careful not to wake up his grandmother, who was probably already fast asleep. The house was eerily quiet. His footsteps were muffled on the hardwood floor as he crept toward the door, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on him.

He was being ridiculous.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest, that gnawing, aching feeling that something was wrong. He didn’t know why he felt it, but he did. And now, standing outside in the cool night air, he found himself walking down the street toward where you lived.

It was late, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t just sit around. He couldn’t let his stupid feelings take over his head, especially not after he’d already messed things up.

As he walked, his mind raced. What if you were still angry? What if you didn’t want to see him? He clenched his fists at his sides, pushing those thoughts away. This wasn’t about that. This was about making sure you were okay. Because, damn it, he cared.

The streets of Busan were quiet, the only sounds being his footsteps and the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. His heart pounded in his chest, and with each step, the feeling of anxiety grew. What the hell was he even doing?

When he finally reached your place, he paused at the gate, looking up at the dark windows. He felt like an idiot. But there he was, standing in front of your house, unsure of what to do next. Should he knock? Should he just go home?

The thought of just turning around and leaving made his stomach churn. He couldn’t. Not when he was this unsure of what was going on between you two.

With a deep breath, Heeseung made up his mind. He wasn’t going to leave until he knew you were okay. And that meant doing something he wasn’t used to: admitting that he cared.

He stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. Should he just text you? No, he had to hear your voice. He had to know you were safe, that you weren’t upset, that you hadn’t disappeared from his life for good.

With one last glance at the still-dark windows, Heeseung walked up to the front door and stood there, his hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering if he was making a huge mistake. But, in that moment, the only thing he could think of was you. And the only thing he wanted was for you to be okay.

The soft creak of the door echoed through the night as you opened it, and Heeseung froze, his heartbeat louder than ever. You stood there in your side braids, eyes tired but wide awake, a sight he never thought he’d find himself looking at in the middle of the night. He was at a loss for words, but there you were, standing in front of him.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. It wasn’t until you broke the silence that Heeseung realized how much he had been holding back.

“I—” You started, your voice quiet but steady. “I’m sorry for… running off earlier. I just… overreacted.”

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard by how calm you sounded. He wanted to say something, but he just stood there, unsure of how to express himself.

You looked down for a moment, gathering your thoughts, then met his eyes again. “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you admitted. “And I guess I wasn’t ready for it. It… kind of threw me off, but I shouldn’t have run away like that. I’m really sorry.”

Heeseung’s heart pounded. He could feel a weight lifting off his chest, but at the same time, the confusion remained. You… hadn’t kissed anyone? That made everything even more complicated. And yet, the way you spoke—so sincere, so vulnerable—only made him want to reach out to you more.

You hesitated. “I do feel the same way. I just… didn’t know how to react.”

The words hung in the air between you both. The same way. Heeseung’s chest tightened at the thought. He had been so confused about his feelings toward you, but hearing that, hearing you say you felt the same—it was like a dam breaking.

He stepped closer, his voice shaky but genuine, “It’s okay. I didn’t know how to handle it either. I… I wasn’t expecting this. But, I really like you. I do. I’ve never met anyone like you before.” His breath hitched as he continued, “You’re… pure. And beautiful. In a way that’s different from anything I’ve ever known.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and Heeseung could feel the weight of his words settling in the air. He had never said anything like that to anyone, especially not like this. But for some reason, it felt right. He had never felt this drawn to someone before.

You took a slow breath, processing what he said. The silence stretched between you, neither of you knowing exactly what to say next. Heeseung looked at you—really looked at you—and everything that had been swirling in his mind began to make sense. He didn’t know how he felt about being in Busan. He didn’t know how he felt about his past. But he knew, without a doubt, that right now, in this moment, you were the one thing he didn’t want to lose.

Finally, you spoke again, your voice soft and a little hesitant, but still sincere. “I… I guess that’s why I ran off earlier. I’ve never been in this situation before. You’re so… different from everyone I know. And it’s just… it’s scary, Heeseung.”

Heeseung’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in your voice. He didn’t expect this from you, and it made him admire you even more. You weren’t playing games; you were being real. And that, for some reason, scared him, too.

“I understand,” Heeseung murmured. “I really do.”

He stepped even closer, his hand slowly reaching for yours. For a brief moment, he was scared to make a move, but then, he couldn’t stop himself. “But I want to figure this out. With you. If you’ll let me.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Heeseung was convinced you were going to back away. But then you nodded, your gaze softening as you looked at him.

“I’d like that,” you said quietly.

Heeseung smiled, his heart finally easing. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was something real. He didn’t know exactly where it would go, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could breathe.

“I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes still wide but soft. “Someone like me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice steadying. “Someone... Different. In a good way.”

You blinked, the tiniest smile creeping onto your face as you looked at him. Heeseung didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. All the things he had been feeling, all the questions he had about why you mattered so much, all of it felt like it was making sense. And he didn’t want to let that go.

“I’ve never met anyone like you either,” you said softly, your voice almost shy now.

Heeseung felt a warmth spread through him at your words. This… this was unexpected. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he knew he didn’t want to lose this. He didn’t want to lose you.

There was another pause, and you cleared your throat. “So… do you wanna come in?”

He blinked at you, still in a daze from everything that had just happened. “Yeah. I… I’d like that.”

Heeseung stepped inside, his heart still racing from the conversation. The cool night air felt a lot warmer now, and everything around him seemed to fade into the background. All that mattered was that you were standing in front of him, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty—just as confused as he was, but somehow more composed. It was comforting and disorienting all at once.

You closed the door behind him with a soft click, and there was a brief silence as the two of you stood in the hallway, unsure of what to do next.

“So, uh,” Heeseung finally broke the silence, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “What now?”

You let out a small laugh, still standing near the door. “I’m… I’m not sure either. I wasn’t exactly expecting you to come here in the middle of the night.”

Heeseung smirked, but it wasn’t teasing this time. It was more of a nervous, unsure kind of smile. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting myself to either.”

The both of you fell into another pause, neither of you quite knowing how to fill the space. But, for once, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just… quiet. But a good kind of quiet.

You broke the silence once more, this time more seriously. “You know, I’ve never really been in a situation like this before. I mean, I don’t even know what this is exactly. But I can’t ignore how I feel either.”

Heeseung nodded slowly. “Same. I don’t know what to call this either. But I like it. I don’t know why, but I do.”

You looked at him, your eyes thoughtful. “I don’t think we need to figure it out right away. I’m still trying to figure out what I feel. But… I do like you, Heeseung.”

Heeseung felt something inside him soften at your words. He hadn’t been expecting to hear that. The uncertainty he had been carrying for so long seemed to melt away in that moment.

“I like you too,” he murmured, almost in disbelief. “I didn’t think I’d ever… feel this way. Especially not after everything I’ve been through.”

You smiled slightly, sensing the vulnerability in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should share this side of himself. But something about you made him feel like he could. “Back home in Seoul, I never really connected with anyone like this. I’ve always been surrounded by people, but it was… shallow. I never really let anyone in. But with you… it’s different. You make me feel like I’m not just some… guy passing through.”

Your expression softened, and you stepped closer to him. “I think you’re more than that. You just have to let yourself see it.”

Heeseung couldn’t help but stare at you, his heart beating a little faster. “I never thought anyone would say that to me. Especially not you.”

“Well, now you know,” you said with a soft, teasing smile.

Heeseung felt a lump form in his throat. It was strange—he had never felt this way before, so exposed. But there was something about you that made him feel safe, even when everything else felt uncertain.

Without thinking, he took another step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. “I want to be someone you can rely on. I don’t know what the future holds, but… I want to try.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Heeseung wasn’t thinking about what he had left behind in Seoul, or how much he missed his old life. He was thinking about you, about this moment, about how much he wanted to make it last.

You smiled softly, your eyes reflecting something he couldn’t quite place. “We’ll figure it out together, Heeseung.”

And in that moment, he knew that whatever happened, he wasn’t alone anymore.

It had been a few days since everything changed between Heeseung and you. The late-night calls, the stolen kisses, and the soft, lingering moments shared in the quiet of Busan. Things had settled into a routine, though it was a new kind of routine neither of you had expected. Heeseung had slowly started warming up to the idea of being with you, and you—well, you were finding yourself getting more comfortable with him every day, even if you still got flustered by the smallest things.

Heeseung had invited you over to his room, a casual invitation that made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t expected it, but you couldn’t turn it down. And here you were, standing in front of him, holding a bowl of instant ramen, the steam rising and filling the air with a comforting, familiar scent.

“Ramen again?” Heeseung asked with a small smile, clearly amused. “You’ve got a thing for this stuff, huh?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re the one who loves it. Don’t act like I’m the only one obsessed here.”

Heeseung chuckled and gestured for you to sit on his bed. You did so, placing the bowl of ramen in your hands, while Heeseung sat beside you. His eyes immediately found their way to you, and you could feel his gaze on you.

“What?” you asked, trying to brush it off, though you felt a flutter in your stomach from the way he was looking at you.

Heeseung didn’t immediately reply. He just stared at you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re just so pretty right now.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you quickly covered your face with your hands, trying to hide the warmth spreading across your skin. “I—stop it,” you stammered, your voice soft.

Heeseung gently took your hands in his, pulling them away from your face. His touch was light, almost teasing as he said, “Move them. Let me see your face.”

You hesitated for a moment, but when he didn’t let go, you slowly lowered your hands. The way he was looking at you made your heart race. He was so close, and you could feel the heat between you both.

“So cute,” he added, his voice low and sincere. The word made your heart skip another beat, and you couldn’t help but look away, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

“Stop it,” you mumbled, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt.

Heeseung just smiled, his gaze still soft but undeniably affectionate. He leaned in slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I mean it, though. You really are.”

Your heart fluttered, your hands still in his, and you couldn’t help but smile. There was something about the way he made you feel—something that made you forget about all the awkwardness you usually felt around guys, something that made you feel special in a way you never had before.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you finally said, your voice quieter, more confident now that you weren’t so embarrassed by his words.

Heeseung smirked, leaning back against the bed with a playful gleam in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad you think so. But I think you might be biased.”

You shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m still right.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re really something else, Y/n.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, laughing quietly, the comfortable silence stretching between you. But in that silence, something was shifting again. Something you both had begun to recognize but hadn’t quite put into words yet.

“I still can’t believe you told your grandma about us,” you teased, trying to shift the focus to something else to avoid getting lost in the intensity of the moment.

Heeseung groaned, his face reddening slightly. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

You grinned, nudging him with your elbow. “Nope. But she was cute about it, though.”

“Cute? She was totally shocked! She started teasing me right away.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s happy for you,” you said, your smile softening as you spoke. “She seems like she knows what’s best for you.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, his tone quiet, more thoughtful now. “I think she does.”

As the night wore on, the two of you fell into a quiet rhythm, sharing food, talking about everything and nothing, and just enjoying each other’s company. Heeseung had started to open up in a way he hadn’t before, and even though he still had his moments of being cold and distant, you could see the change in him.

And maybe—just maybe—you were starting to realize that you didn’t need all the answers right away. You didn’t need to label this, to rush into figuring out what was between you. All you needed was to enjoy the moments you had with him.

And, for once, that felt enough.

You didn’t notice how close he was until you felt his hand on your thigh, gently moving it up and down. Your heart skipped a beat at the gesture, and you looked up at him. His gaze was intense, his eyes fixated on you.

He leaned in a little closer, his face just inches away from yours. “Y/n,” he whispered, his voice low and rough.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart racing. You couldn’t look away from him, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible.

Heeseung moved even closer, his hand still on your thigh, his touch causing goose bumps to form on your skin. His breath was warm against your cheek as he spoke. “Can I…?”

You didn’t need him to finish the question to know what he was asking, but you still nodded, your heart racing even faster. He leaned in even more, his hand still on your thigh, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

And then, he kissed you.

It was soft, tentative at first—his lips lightly brushing against yours. And then, he deepened the kiss, his hand on your thigh moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you melted into the kiss, your own hands reaching up to touch him, your fingers running through his hair.

The world seemed to fall away as you two kissed, the intensity between you growing stronger with each passing second. Heeseung’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him, and you couldn’t help but lean into him, craving the closeness.

The kiss slowed as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were still fixed on you, and you could see the mix of tenderness and desire in his gaze.

“Y/n,” he whispered your name, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your heart fluttering at his confession. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest.

He kissed you again, a little harder this time, his hands moving to your hips, lifting you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor.

As the kiss deepened, Heeseung’s hands began to roam, exploring your body, his touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin. His fingers found the hem of your shirt, creeping under it, his touch feather-light yet leaving you breathless.

You gasped at the feel of his hands on your bare skin, and the sound only made Heeseung deepen the kiss further. His hands continued their journey up your sides, tracing the curves of your body and leaving you wanting more.

Finally, Heeseung broke the kiss, taking a moment to catch his breath. He rested his forehead against yours once more, his hands still on your waist, his grip firm but gentle.

He looked at you, his eyes searching your face, as if memorizing every detail. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amazement and desire.

Heeseung's hand stayed on your thigh, his touch growing bolder as he raised an eyebrow, tugging on your shirt.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind swirling with anticipation and nervousness. You knew what he was asking, and the fact that he was asking instead of assuming made your heart flutter even more.

You nodded, giving him a small, shaky smile. "Yeah...go ahead."

His hand moved slowly, leaving your thigh and making its way to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending tingles up your spine. He looked at you, his eyes seeking permission, and you nodded again, your breath catching in your throat.

Heiseung lifted the hem of your shirt, his hands exploring the newly exposed skin. His touch was light, his eyes tracing the curves and lines of your body.

You couldn't help yourself, your fingers tugging on the fabric of his shirt, a desperate, silent plea.

Heeseung chuckled lowly, that sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Eager, are we?" he teased.

His hands stilled as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of mockery and desire. But then he shrugged off his shirt, his muscles flexing as he discarded it on the floor.

You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest, the sight of him taking your breath away. His skin was golden in the low light, the planes of his chest and abdominal muscles well-defined and sculpted.

Heeseung caught you staring, a smirk on his face. "See something you like?" he teased, his voice low and rough.

You blushed, trying to look away but finding yourself unable to. Your fingers itched to touch him, to explore the smooth skin of his chest. You could feel the heat radiating from him, drawing you closer.

"Shut up," you pout, your voice barely above a whisper. "You know I do."

Heeseung's smirk widened as he leaned in closer, his gaze fixed on you. "Is that so?" he said, the teasing edge in his voice causing your cheeks to heat up even more.

Before you could answer, he pulled you in closer, pressing soft trail of kisses onto your neck. “Oh god, Hee-“ you sighed as you tilted your head to give him better access.

Heeseung's mouth found a sensitive spot on your neck, and you couldn't help but sigh again. "Mmm," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot.

His hands were on your waist, pulling you even closer to him. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressed against yours as he continued to kiss and nibble at your neck.

Feeling the tension between you growing, an uncontrollable need started building up inside you, like an itch begging to be scratched.

Heeseung's mouth was still on your neck, his kisses becoming more urgent, his hands still firmly holding your waist.

Unable to resist, you started moving, your hips grinding against him, trying to ease the tension. You could hear his breath catch as you moved, and he pulled away from your neck to look at you.

“Fuck,” he groaned into your ear as he leaned his head against the headboard. “Y/n I’m going to cum like this if you keep moving like this.”

You felt your cheeks getting hot, not realizing the effect you had on him. “I-I’m sorry,” you replied sheepishly, looking down. “It’s my first time and—“

“No, no,” he interrupted as he tilts your chin back up. “Hey, look at me. You’re doing great.”

Heeseung’s eyes were intense as he looked at you, the desire in them only growing stronger. "Don’t apologize," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "It’s perfect, you’re perfect. Just keep going. I want to feel you."

His words were like an electric shock through your body, your skin tingling all over. You couldn’t help but shiver at the intensity in his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.

Heeseung leaned in again, his gaze still intense as he closed the distance between your lips. This time, the kiss was urgent and needy, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own.

Your bodies were pressed hard against against each other, the heat between you growing even hotter. Your hands were in his hair, fingers tugging at the soft strands, while his hands were on your hips, holding you tightly against him.

Heeseung’s hands moved to your back, his fingers trailing up your spine, leaving a trail of heat as they went. They found the clasp of your bra, his touch gentle but sure as he unclips it. He pulled back for just a moment, his eyes locking with yours, as if asking permission.

You felt exposed under his gaze but nodded, your breath hitching in your throat as he slid the straps of your bra down your arms, discarding it on the floor.

Heeseung's eyes darkened as he looked at you, his teeth biting down on his lower lip. You could feel his arousal growing stronger, his body tensing under your touch.

His hands started roaming, one hand moving up your back, the other tracing down your side to your hip. He pulled you closer, his breath hot against your skin as he moved his lips to your throat, leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbone.

Heeseung's hand moved down to your chest, his touch light but possessive as he gently squeezed your tits, his palm cupping it. His fingers started to move in slow, circular motions, as he took in your reaction. His gaze darkened with desire as he watched the way you responded to his touch, his expression stoic but his eyes alive with heat.

You could feel the tension building like a coiled spring, the need for more growing with each passing moment. You looked up at him, your gaze heavy-lidded and filled with desire.

"Heeseung," you murmured, your voice a little breathless. "Please...I want-"

Heeseung silenced you with a kiss, his lips covering yours in an urgent, heated kiss. He understood what you wanted, and he was more than willing to give it to you.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue seeking yours, as his hand continued to move over your boobs, gently squeezing and teasing your sensitive skin.

Heeseung gently pushed you onto the bed, his body hovering over you, his eyes locked on yours. He was taking control, and you were more than willing to let him.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck again as his hands started to move, skimming down your sides, tracing the curves of your body. You felt him reach the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing at the edge.

He looked at you, his eyes smoldering, asking permission once again.

You nodded, your body trembling with anticipation, your breath coming in short gasps. Heeseung smirked, his fingers slipping under the hem of your skirt, slowly pulling it up off your legs, the cool air hitting your skin making you shiver.

As the skirt came off, Heeseung’s hand lingered on your thigh, his touch light but possessive. He looked at you again, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of you.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Heeseung please,” you whined, and that was all he needed as he pushed your panties aside, shoving in two of his fingers inside your core, making you let out a loud moan.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “Hee- feels so good,” you said shakily. He smirks at your reaction, but focused more on your pleasure. “Yeah? Do you want me to add another?” He replied, his voice lowered.

"Yes," you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Heeseung, I want more."

He didn't hesitate, inserting another finger with ease. The motion was so fluid, it sent a shiver down your spine. "You feel so wet for me," he murmured, his voice dark with desire. He pressed closer to you, his body hot against yours, as he continued to move his fingers inside you.

As he moved his fingers, he kept searching for that one spot inside of you - the one that would make your body quiver and shake with pleasure. He curled his fingers, sliding them in and out of you, searching for that one spot inside you that would make you cry out in pleasure.

With every movement, he was getting closer and closer to finding it. "Relax," he whispered, "let me make you feel good."

He slowly withdrew his fingers, his gaze fixed on you as he replaced them with his mouth. He started with gentle kisses, his lips moving over your skin, making you shiver in anticipation.

And then his tongue replaced his fingers, slipping inside of you, exploring you with practiced ease. He knew what he was doing, and it was driving you wild. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the muscles in his back tenses.

You covered your mouth with your hand as you looked at Heeseung in between your legs. Something you never thought was possible. “I’m so close,” you whimpered, bucking your hips up unintentionally.

He didn’t stop, if anything his pace quickened, his hands gripping your thighs. “Cum for me baby,” he said, his voice was low and rough. He locked eyes with you, his gaze filled with so much desire it was hard to look away.

You could feel your body coiling tighter and tighter. He knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, and it was too much. “Please Heeseung,” you pleaded, your head falling back onto the pillows. “Please I can’t-“

“Yes you can princess,” he murmured, giving you just enough friction to drive you wild without quite sending you over the edge. He continued working you with single-minded intensity, his mouth and hands working in the perfect sync to bring you to the very edge.

“H-hee, please no more, c-can’t take it anymore...” you stuttered, your body arching off the bed as your fingers tightened in heeseung’s hair. His mouth, a warm, wet heaven between your legs, his tongue moving in fast, deliberate circles that drive you closer to the edge. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, a smirk playing on his lips as he pulls away just long enough to let your trembling thighs fall apart once more.

Your skin is flushed and sticky with sweat, your heart racing as he kissed the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of pecks that makes you shiver. “you can take it, baby, you know you can,” he praised, the sound of his voice sending another shockwave through your body. you want to argue, but all that comes out is a whine as his mouth finds your clit again, sucking gently.

His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, the pressure just shy of painful. Your muscles clench around his fingers, which are buried deep within you, moving in a rhythm that matches his mouth. It is overwhelming, the sensation of being so close to the peak again, especially when your body is so sensitive from your lack of experience. Your toes curl into the bedsheets, and you bite down on your lower lip, trying to stifle the moan that wants to escape.

He paused, looking up at you with those bambi eyes. “Moan for me, baby. I wanna hear how much you love this,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. your cheeks burn with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment, but you nod, feeling the heat of his gaze on you.

His mouth returned to your clit, his tongue flicking against it rapidly. your eyes roll back in your head and had you seeing stars. You can't help but let out a high pitched moan. he chuckles against your sensitive folds, the vibration sending sparks of sensation shooting through you. Your hips rock upward, seeking more, but he keeps his rhythm, not giving you the full force you crave just yet.

His fingers inside you started to move faster, curling and stroking, hitting that spot deep within you that makes your legs quiver. you moaned louder now, unable to hold it back. your hands tighten in his hair, urging him closer, but he's unfazed, maintaining his relentless pace. “Please, yes, right there,” you panted, your voice hoarse from all the moaning and begging.

His eyes locked onto yours, the smirk on his face growing wider. “you look so beautiful like this,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. Your heart swells with love for him, making the pleasure he’s giving you even more intense. He added a third finger, stretching you just enough to make you gasp. Your body starts to tremble uncontrollably, the tension coiling tighter with every passing moment.

You felt the orgasm building again. your nails dig into his scalp, the pain mixing with the pleasure. Heeseung’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your reaction, his own breathing heavy and ragged. he knows he's pushing you to the edge, and it only spurs him on. Your moans become more frequent, filling the room with the sweet sound of your release.

His tongue presses harder against your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a fervent pace. your body starts to convulse, muscles tightening around his fingers. The pressure builds, and just when you think you can't take anymore, it hits. with a cry, you squirt all over his face, the warm liquid spilling out of you. his eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t miss a beat, lapping it up eagerly. Embarrassment hit as you realize what you had just done, but fades with ease as he handled it nonchalantly. The feeling is so intense, you can't help but thrash on the bed, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

Your eyes popped open, watching him with a mix of shock and arousal. “Yes, baby, so good,” he murmured, his voice muffled by your folds. your chest heaves with every breath you take, your heart hammering in your ears. he licks you clean, his movements slowing as your orgasm subsides. then, he looks up, his nose and chin covered in your juices.

His eyes sparkle with mischief and satisfaction. “you taste so good,” he said, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. the sight of him like that, so raw and hungry for you, sends a fresh wave of desire through your body. you can’t help but feel a bit smug, knowing you’ve driven him to this point.

"You make me insane, you know that?" he murmured, his voice rough. "I can't get enough of you." He leaned down, his body heat melding with yours, his arms caging you in. his lips found yours again, and the kiss was hot and needy, a reflection of the hunger that was still coursing through him.

Heeseung smirked, his gaze fixed on you. "You're doing so good for your first, you know?" he said, his voice thick with desire. You look away from him, muttering “no I’m not,” but you know that hes right. In one fluid motion, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off, his boxers following suit.

He was now totally naked in front of you, and the sight was enough to take your breath away. His body was toned and muscular. Every contour and dip and ridge seemed perfectly defined. Every inch of him was beautiful. He then opened his side table drawer and pulled out the box of condoms. “I told you I’d have use of them somehow,” he smirked while you scoffed in disbelief.

He laughs at your reaction as he positions his cock in front of your leaking pussy. He could see your hands gripping on the sheets as his cock is already half way in. “Heeseung-“ you whimpered, your breath shaken.

"Just relax," he whispered, his voice soft now. "I'll go slow. I want you to feel good, okay?" He was being tender, his eyes fixed on your every expression.

He moved slowly, his hands on your hips to help guide him deeper into you. Inch by inch, he filled you, the stretch sending waves of pleasure through you. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. His eyes never strayed away from you.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he murmured, his voice strained. You could hear the need in his words, the sheer effort it took for him to hold back. You knew he was trying to be careful, trying to be gentle, but you could feel the hunger in him, the need to take you, to claim you.

“Relax for me, baby. I’ve got you.” He leaned down, his mouth finding your neck, his lips trailing kisses across your skin. He nipped and sucked just below your ear, knowing exactly the effect he had on you.

His hand slowly reached down, finding your clit, and he started rubbing small, soft circles that set your body on fire. His mouth moved lower, his lips tracing a trail across your collarbone, then your chest, finding your nipple and swirling his tongue around it. “I'm gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice muffled against your skin. His words sent a shiver down your spine, the promise in them making your heart race.

You looked up at him, your body trembling with pleasure, and managed to say through uneven breaths. "Please... I.. I can't take it anymore."

He felt your body relax under his touch, and he knew you were ready for more. His eyes darkened with lust as he looked down at you. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and rough. “Want me to fuck you harder like the slut you are?”

You could only nod, your words failing you. He didn't wait for a verbal response, his body already in motion, his grip on your hips firm and possessive. He began a steady rhythm, his thrusts growing faster and rougher with each passing minute. “You like it like this, don't you?” he murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “You like letting me fill your virgin cunt up?” The ways he’s saying it makes you whimper. You’ve never seen him like this.

Loud and rhythmic, the wet slapping noises filled the room, punctuating every movement with a sharp slap. It was the only sound that broke the deep silence, except for the occasional gasp or whimper from inside the room.

You could feel the tension building, the coil in your belly wound so tight it was almost painful. Heeseung’s breaths were coming in short, quick gasps, his rhythm growing more and more irregular. “You close, princess?”

You could only nod again, your words failing you once more. He knew he was close too, the tension and need in him palpable. "Cum for me, baby," he murmured, his lips right against your ear. "I want to hear you."

That was all it took, the sound of his voice so close, the dirty words in your ear. You felt the coil snap inside you, pleasure exploding through you, so intense you couldn't help but cry out.

He followed you over the edge, his body rigid as he came, his grip on you tight. He panted in your ear, trying to catch his breath.

"You did so good y/n," he murmured, his voice rough.

"Yeah?" you replied, your voice soft and shaky. "You really think so?" You looked at him, your cheeks flushed, your eyes wide and vulnerable.

He leaned in, giving you a deep, deep kiss. It was tender and loving, his lips moving slowly against yours. He held you tight, cradling your face gently in his hands.

"Of course," he whispered when he finally pulled away, his eyes fixed on you. "you were perfect."

You woke up to the soft glow of the morning sun slipping through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. Your body felt heavy, warm from sleep, but something else made you freeze. A weight beside you. Slow, steady breathing.

Your heart pounded.

Heeseung.

The realization hit you all at once.

Carefully, you turned your head, barely daring to move. He was lying next to you, his bare shoulders peeking out from beneath the sheets, his messy hair falling into his face. His features were relaxed, peaceful—so different from the teasing smirks and sharp remarks you were used to.

Heat rushed to your face as last night replayed in your mind. The way his lips felt against yours, the way he touched you like you were the only thing that mattered. The way you had wanted him just as much.

Oh god.

What were you supposed to do now?

Your fingers clutched the blanket, pulling it up higher as if that could somehow shield you from reality. You had never been in this situation before—waking up beside someone like this. Did you get up and leave? Pretend to still be asleep? Say something?

Before you could decide, Heeseung shifted beside you, his breathing changing. A few seconds later, his eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep as they landed on you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, a lazy smirk tugged at his lips. “Morning.”

Your throat felt dry. “Morning.”

A beat of silence.

“You look like you’re about to freak out,” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

“I—I’m not,” you lied, though your stiff posture said otherwise.

Heeseung chuckled, rubbing his eyes before looking at you again, his gaze softer now. “Regretting it?”

You swallowed hard, lips parting, but no words came out. Did you regret it? No. But did you know what to do now? Also no.

Seeing your hesitation, Heeseung sighed, propping himself up on his elbow. “Relax. It’s just me.”

That was the problem. It was him. Heeseung, the guy you never thought you’d fall for, yet somehow had.

“I just…” you hesitated, finally meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what happens now.”

Heeseung studied you for a moment before reaching out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The casual intimacy of it sent a shiver down your spine.

“We do whatever we want,” he said simply. “No pressure.”

No pressure.

You exhaled slowly, nodding. Maybe this didn’t have to be so terrifying.

Heeseung grinned, dropping back onto the pillow. “Good. Now come back here, ‘cause I’m not ready to get up yet.”

You hesitated, but when he tugged you closer, you let yourself relax—just a little—letting the warmth between you melt away the uncertainty.

As Heeseung lay beside you, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t shake the confusion settling in his chest.

He liked you. That much was obvious. The way he looked for you in every crowd, the way his mood instantly lifted whenever you were around, the way he always found himself wanting to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

But how did this happen? How did he, a guy who once lived for parties, hook-ups, and never staying in one place too long, end up here—in bed with someone like you?

You were his complete opposite.

Soft-spoken. Kind. Pure.

The kind of person who spent their time helping others, who believed in soulmates, who didn’t just give their heart away to anyone.

So how the hell did someone like you fall for someone like him?

Heeseung turned his head slightly, watching as you stared at the sheets, lost in your own thoughts. Your fingers fidgeted with the blanket, lips pressed together in that way you always did when you were nervous.

Were you regretting this?

The thought made something twist in his chest.

Because for the first time in his life, Heeseung didn’t want this to be just another night he could forget.

And that scared him.

His whole life, he had avoided anything that tied him down. Commitment, feelings, relationships—it all seemed pointless to him. But now, here you were, tangled up in his sheets, making him question everything.

His gaze drifted down to where your bare shoulder peeked from beneath the blanket. The marks he had left on your skin were still there, proof that last night had been real. Proof that you were his, even if just for a moment.

You shifted slightly, and he tore his eyes away before you could catch him staring.

“…What are you thinking about?” your voice was soft, hesitant.

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his messy hair. “Honestly? Trying to figure out how the hell we ended up here.”

You let out a small laugh, but there was uncertainty in your eyes. “Yeah… me too.”

Silence settled between you.

And then, before he could stop himself, Heeseung muttered, “But I do know one thing.”

You looked at him, waiting.

He hesitated, feeling almost stupid for admitting it. But screw it.

“I like you,” he said, voice quieter now. “A lot.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and for a second, he thought maybe he had said the wrong thing. But then, slowly, your lips curled into the softest smile.

“I like you too, Heeseung.”

And just like that, some of the confusion faded.

Because maybe, even if it didn’t make sense, this—whatever it was between you—was real.

Heeseung never thought he’d say it, but as he lay there beside you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your wrist, the words slipped out before he could even think them through.

“Maybe I’ll stay in Busan.”

You blinked, turning your head to face him, eyes searching his as if you weren’t sure if he was joking.

“You?” you asked, almost in disbelief. “Stay here?”

Heeseung huffed a quiet laugh, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I know. Sounds crazy, right?”

You didn’t say anything, just watched him carefully, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know… I used to hate it here. It was too quiet, too slow, too different from Seoul. I thought I’d lose my mind if I had to stay any longer.”

He turned his head, meeting your gaze.

“But then I met you.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you still didn’t say anything.

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “And now… I don’t know. Maybe quiet isn’t so bad. Maybe different isn’t so bad. Maybe—” He hesitated. “Maybe I don’t want to leave anymore.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and for the first time in a long time, Heeseung wasn’t scared of what came next.

Days passed, and something between you and Heeseung settled into place. It wasn’t just fleeting glances or hesitant touches anymore. It was real—comfortable, yet exhilarating in a way neither of you had expected.

Heeseung still missed Seoul sometimes, but not in the same way. The urge to escape had faded. Busan, once dull and suffocating, now felt different. Warmer. Brighter. And he knew it had everything to do with you.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft oranges and purples, you both sat on the beach, side by side. The waves crashed gently, the breeze cool against your skin.

“You ever think about what would’ve happened if we never met?” you asked, hugging your knees to your chest.

Heeseung glanced at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I’d probably still be a spoiled asshole waiting to run back to Seoul.”

You laughed softly. “And now?”

Heeseung was quiet for a moment before exhaling through his nose. “Now… I don’t know. But I know I don’t regret staying.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Heeseung wasn’t someone who opened up easily, but the fact that he was here—choosing this, choosing you—meant everything.

He turned to face you fully, his expression softer than you’d ever seen. “You changed things for me,” he admitted. “I don’t know how, but you did.”

You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes making your breath hitch.

“You changed things for me, too,” you whispered.

Heeseung leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your lips. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was steady, certain.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a lazy grin on his face. “Guess that means I’m stuck here now, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Guess so.”

And for the first time in a long time, Heeseung wasn’t looking for a way out. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

Heeseung had only planned to be in Seoul for a couple of days—just enough time to grab some of his things. But the moment he stepped foot back in the city, something felt off.

It was the same as always—fast, loud, and chaotic. The neon lights of the clubs still flickered, the streets were still packed with people looking for a good time, and his phone buzzed with texts from old friends asking if he was back for good.

A few months ago, he would’ve thrown himself right back into it. He would’ve called up a few people, gotten drunk until the sun rose, and woken up with a headache and no memory of the night before.

But now? He just felt… disconnected.

Walking past the places he used to love—the bars, the high-end restaurants, the luxury stores—he realized something. This had been his whole world, but it didn’t feel like home anymore.

Busan was quiet. Peaceful. Boring, he used to think.

But it had you.

And for some reason, that made all the difference.

Before heading back, he stopped by one of the luxury boutiques he used to frequent. The staff recognized him instantly, greeting him with polished smiles.

“Mr. Lee! It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, barely paying attention as he browsed the shelves.

He didn’t even know what he was looking for at first—just something nice for you. You never asked for anything, which only made him want to give you everything.

After some time, he settled on a delicate gold necklace, a designer handbag, and a few other things. Any other girl he knew would’ve gone crazy for them.

Satisfied, he paid without thinking twice. Money had never been an issue for him.

But you—you were about to prove to him just how different you really were.

When Heeseung finally returned to Busan, he was exhausted from the trip, but instead of going home to rest, he went straight to your place.

He knocked, and a few seconds later, you opened the door, eyes lighting up at the sight of him. “You’re back!”

“Missed me already, baby?” he teased, smirking.

Your face flushed at the nickname, but you rolled your eyes. “You wish.”

He chuckled, stepping inside and handing you a few bags. “Got you something.”

You blinked, looking down at them, then back up at him. “You… got me something?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Just open it.”

You hesitated before peeking inside, pulling out the small jewelry box first. When you flipped it open, a delicate gold necklace shimmered in the light.

“Heeseung…” you breathed, staring at it in disbelief. Then you looked inside the other bags, finding an expensive handbag and a few other luxury accessories.

Your stomach twisted.

“This is… this is too much,” you finally said.

He frowned, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

You set the bags down gently, chewing on your lip. “I mean, these are beautiful, and I really appreciate it, but… I can’t accept them.”

He let out a short laugh, confused. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t need expensive things to be happy,” you said simply, pushing the bags back toward him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

For a moment, he just stared at you.

Any other girl would’ve squealed, thrown their arms around him, maybe posted about it online. But you? You weren’t impressed.

“You really don’t want them?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

You gave him a soft smile. “I just think there are better things to spend money on.”

Heeseung blinked, completely taken aback.

Then, unexpectedly, he started laughing. Not out of mockery, but pure disbelief.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “No, I just don’t think money is everything.”

Heeseung studied you, his amusement slowly fading into something more serious.

He had spent his whole life surrounded by people who only cared about status, wealth, and what he could offer them. People who stuck around when it was convenient.

But you… you weren’t like that.

You weren’t impressed by designer bags or expensive gifts. You weren’t drawn to him for his money.

You just liked him. For him.

And for the first time in his life, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—he had been chasing all the wrong things.

He exhaled, shaking his head with a small smirk. “You’re really something else, Y/n.”

You laughed softly, nudging his arm. “Guess you’ll just have to get used to it.”

Heeseung looked at you—really looked at you.

Maybe he would get used to it.

Maybe he didn’t mind the idea of staying in Busan a little while longer.

A few days had passed since Heeseung returned from Seoul, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you had turned down his gifts so easily.

Most girls he had been with would’ve taken them without a second thought. They would’ve kissed him, called him the best boyfriend ever, maybe even hinted at what else they wanted next.

But you? You looked almost uncomfortable, like you hated the idea of him spending so much on you.

And for some reason, that drove him insane.

Now, as he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, he felt that familiar urge again.

I should call her.

It had become a habit—late-night calls with you, staying up until you were barely keeping your eyes open. A dangerous habit, but one he wasn’t willing to break.

Just as he reached for his phone, a knock at his door made him groan. He was about to ignore it when his grandma’s voice called out.

“Heeseung, dear, someone’s here for you!”

Frowning, he sat up. Who the hell would be here this late?

Dragging himself out of bed, he ran a hand through his messy hair before heading toward the door. And when he opened it, he was surprised to see you.

Holding a plastic bag.

“You… brought ramen again?” Heeseung blinked.

You nodded, looking almost shy. “You didn’t eat yet, right?”

Heeseung stared at you, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “You worried about me, princess?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Just take the food, Heeseung.”

“Come inside,” he said, stepping back to let you in.

You hesitated for only a second before walking in, making your way to the kitchen like you had done so many times before.

Heeseung leaned against the counter, watching as you pulled out the ramen packets. You always moved so effortlessly in his house, as if you belonged here.

Shit. That was a dangerous thought.

“Why do you keep bringing me food?” Heeseung asked, crossing his arms.

You paused, then shrugged. “I just… want to make sure you’re eating properly.”

Heeseung scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re weird, you know that?”

You smiled, unfazed. “I’ve been told.”

As you started boiling the water, Heeseung found himself staring again.

The way the light from the kitchen made your skin glow. The way your fingers worked so delicately, even when handling something as simple as instant ramen.

It wasn’t the first time he thought you looked beautiful. But every time, it hit him like a damn train.

“You’re staring,” you said suddenly, not even looking up.

Heeseung smirked. “You’re just so pretty right now.”

Your cheeks burned. “Heeseung—”

“Seriously.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me wanna stay.”

Your breath hitched.

And just like that, Heeseung knew—

He didn’t just want to stay.

He needed to.

🏷️ @tender-is-the-moon @nithxhoon @gvtdoll @kayjiguki @yagsoobin @nesquikluvr @swytstars @cloud-lyy @m1kkso @isagistar @clandestineself @honestlyatomicpanda @immelissaaa @ikeuwoniee @dearestdreamies @jakessrealwife @lannadray @punchbug9-blog @kittympirty @getoxo @heeseungissm @mheretoreadff @highway-143 @starcandybby @evorlaah

886 notes · View notes