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sundives · 1 month ago

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Decode ✶ psh.

Learning from you that I can walk away, too.

Summary: You're the textbook definition of the perfect daughter. With everything laid out to you, the only thing you should do is follow the footsteps of your parents and become a doctor. If not, marry a soon-to-be doctor and be the perfect wife for him.

Easily, you can do both. Despite being a college student, you are already arranged to marry Park Sunghoon, the son of your parents' business partner. While you're doing everything to tie him to your perfect life, Sunghoon is very much determined to ran away from it, chasing after a dream of passion which you could never understand.

✰ Song inspiration: Decode by Sabrina Carpenter, Autumn by Niki, Already Over by Sabrina Carpenter

✰ Word Count: 23.9k (what the hell sure.)

✰ Tags: Arranged marriage, angst!!, a bit of unrequited love, hurt a little bit of comfort, lots of lots of miscommunication (these two can’t communicate ffs), angst with happy ending ig, short fluff, smut! College setting, reader is a perfectionist and soooo stubborn, Park Sunghoon is a mess, he’s also in a band. Mentions of drinking and alcohol, and mild violence. Toxic relationships, so much drama, Wonyoung and Ningning as your best friends, mentions of enhypen members, fancy dinners and shits, lots of cursing lmao.

✰ CW: smut! Plot with little porn, loss of virginity (both of them are virgins lmao but they kinda know what to do though, don’t ask how), extremely soft vanilla sex!! P in v sex, short mutual masturbation, fingering, mentions of blood, use of condom (!!!), praise, big dick! Sunghoon, aftercare. I might have forgotten some but yeah, shitty smut hope you enjoy nonetheless.

✰ Asul’s note: okay med students don’t come to me, I know that you need to pass a board exam before attending med school, or not, i think that’s based on your undergraduate program sdkfkjddfk. (I base it on my country lmao) so inaccuracies about becoming a doctor might be present here, so now, I am apologizing for the inaccuracies. (anyways, this is a fanfic guys, let it slide.) This is also not proofread lmao.

Anyways, this is the second installment for Arcanum series yay! you guys loved Jay's fic that I decided to write for the other members. :D hope you enjoy this one. <3

Read Jay's fic here.

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @bussolares @semi-wife @starry-eyed-bimbo @sievenderz @jakeslvt

You have a routine.

By six in the morning, regardless if you have class that day, you’ll be awake. You start your day by taking a 5km walk in the community plaza in your subdivision, wherein the sun has already risen but not enough for you to feel hot.

You should also be home by seven in the morning, wherein you do your morning routine like taking a bath, cooking breakfast, and maybe spare thirty minutes to read the book on your reading list before driving off to Decelis University. If you don’t have any classes that day, you’ll spend the day advance reading your subjects.

Everything in your life has always been like that. Having a routine keeps you organized, calms your mind and keeps your body circling everyday — leaving no room for mistakes, because making mistakes for you isn’t an ideal thing to do.

You’re the only child of your family. You grew up with loving parents who showered you with love and everything that you want. Spoiled but not rotten, everything wasn’t given to you in a snap. They always taught you that everything they give to you, should be repaired. Hence, you grew up with expectations given to you, and you have every determination not to fail your parents.

That’s why you’re studying medical biology, following the footsteps of your father who owns the biggest medical center in your city. Ever since your father exposed you to his work, your dream has been to become a doctor like him, and they were happy that you’re following their path.

While they are anticipating for you to become a doctor, your parents didn’t hesitate to give you a second option — a doctor’s wife like your mother. Someone who tends to their husband, becoming a housewife or trophy wife who spends their husband’s money with no problem, your mother would always joke.

Coincidentally, your parents didn’t even let you choose between the options because easily, you can have both. While your ring finger remains empty, you know you’re bound to be married to someone by the time you graduate college.

“Sunghoon,” you called out, shaking the boy’s shoulder. You were given a short groan as Sunghoon turned sideways and covered his head with the blanket.

“Sunghoon, wake up! We have class at ten!” you shouted, pulling the blanket once again. It didn’t take a minute for Sunghoon to sit up with a loud groan escaping his lips.

“y/n, it’s only eight in the morning, you can go to Decelis if you want to, but let me fucking rest for another hour,” he said mindlessly, eyes still close.

“You’ll skip class again because you overslept,” you pointed out. “Are you still drunk?”

“I have a hangover, thanks for asking,” Sunghoon replied sarcastically. “Also, why do you care if I skip class for today? It’s just a minor subject for fuck’s sake, just go.”

“Make sure you go to Decelis today,” you reminded before leaving his room. Sunghoon didn’t even bother replying to you, he only lay down in his bed once again and dozed off, which only made you heave a sigh.

You’ve known Park Sunghoon ever since you two were kids. You remember the first time you two met, at his father’s birthday, wherein he played the piano for the audience. You watched as he effortlessly played a song you’re unfamiliar with. Eyes locked at him, it was the first time you felt that rush of in your heart, cheeks heating up as you admired him from where you were standing.

Ever since that day, you wanted to marry Sunghoon. His parents own the largest pharmaceutical company in your district which means that he’s bound to inherit his parents’ business. You think that it was destiny. If you two were to get married, your parents’ businesses would merge and you envision yourself as a doctor along with Sunghoon.

It was as if the perfect life had been given to you. While you never formally requested to your parents that you wanted to marry Sunghoon, they pretty much set you two up. You grew up with Sunghoon, played and studied with him, and went to the same school together.

He was your best friend. Although the lingering crush inside you still gives you butterflies every time you’re with Sunghoon, your platonic love for him still outweighs. You two passed Decelis University together, but before you two entered college, the formal arrangement between the two of you was held in a private dinner — completely shattering your relationship with him.

From there, everything changed, the wariness that you two will get married after graduation lingers, and the fact that you two were forced to live in a house together, alone, made it more awkward for the two of you.

Both your parents insisted that it’s for you two to prepare for your marriage. At first, it was hard to adjust, having small talks and walking on eggshells during the first few months despite you two growing up together. But slowly, you two had become well-adjusted with each other.

Going to Decelis together, study dates, and senseless conversations after dinner happened because not only you two live together, you two are also classmates. You two became well-known in your department. With your family’s background and reputation, everyone knows that you two are engaged to each other, and by the end of your freshman year, you two were considered as the medical sciences department’s “power couple.”

Although you two had adjusted well, the two of you knew that what you had were only platonic, two best friends who live together under the same roof, ignoring the future that awaits for both of you.

But when sophomore year came, Sunghoon formed a band along with some friends and a junior of his, and they named it, “Arcanum,” and ever since that day, Sunghoon was no longer the Sunghoon that you knew.

You always thought that his talent for piano will only be a talent of his, but you didn’t expect it to become a passion that he will come chasing after. Ever since Arcanum happened, the sound of his keyboard can be heard all over your house, and instead of medical books and notes from your subjects being on his table, it has become lyrical sheets and chords that only Sunghoon can read.

While Sunghoon still excels in class and passes his subjects with ease, it’s not hard to ignore that his college program isn’t his priority anymore. You found yourself alone in your house every night, Sunghoon separating from you by the end of the class because he has a gig or band practice. Sometimes he goes home drunk, and you’re wondering why the hell he is letting himself get drunk despite his low alcohol tolerance.

You know that it’ll get worse if he continues doing it. You tried to talk him out of it but Sunghoon got angry with you instead, lashing out that why can’t you just support his passion instead. It was the first time he ever got angry with you and yet, it fueled something in you, the way he looked at you that night, you’re convinced that he’s not the Sunghoon that you know — which persisted you more to make him go back to the way he was.

You tried. Everyday, you tried to make sure he goes to his class, waking him up and checking up on him became part of your routine. But it all seems useless because the more you pick up Sunghoon’s mess, the more he becomes annoyed at you. It became something you two always fought about, slowly you two didn’t realise that you two had drifted apart.

“Class dismissed,” the professor announced. You could only close your notebook as you shake your head with disappointment.

Sunghoon didn’t show up, he’s probably in his room, still asleep. You hated how he didn’t show up, and all of it is because of a hangover from yesterday’s gig. You always told him that he shouldn’t drink during school days but it’s Sunghoon, he never listens to you.

As you grabbed your things and placed them in your bag, your professor called you out suddenly, which made you head towards him.

“Yes sir?” you asked.

“It’s about Sunghoon,” he started, your eyes widened but you only nodded, it wasn’t a surprise to you that your professors go to you if there’s any concerns regarding your fiance.

“He might as well drop my subject because he’s already failing,” your professor explained.

“What?” you asked, almost stumbling on your own tongue.

“He’s been absent for the past few weeks, and you know that attendance is still a crucial part of my subject. If he keeps on missing my classes, he’ll receive a failing grade in my subject, no considerations,” he said with a stern voice.

You kept quiet for a moment, but only nodded. “I will inform him about this one, thank you so much sir.”

“I know that Arcanum is slowly becoming popular, but he still has to prioritize his studies,” your professor comments.

You only gave him a formal smile before excusing yourself. As soon as you reached the hallway, you felt yourself in relief, but there was a hurtful tug on your heart. You couldn’t help but to grab your phone, dialing Sunghoon’s number.

But all your calls went to his voicemail, you only stared at your phone, frozen from where you were standing. Your heart is beating at an abnormal pace and you hate that feeling.

You’re nervous. You hated feeling nervous. You’re nervous about Sunghoon, if he fails this subject, he’ll be delayed to graduate. He can’t delay. No, you two were supposed to graduate this year and after a few months, you two will get married before attending medical school. That’s the plan. There shouldn’t be any other options other than that.

Of course you have to tell him about it, but the question was, does Sunghoon care? That’s what scares you the most. Because there’s a large possibility that he doesn’t care about it, he’ll let himself fail a subject if it means proving you wrong.

You couldn’t concentrate for the remaining day. Thoughts keep running in your mind, and to make it worse, none of your subjects were attended by Sunghoon. You don’t know his whereabouts since he wasn’t replying to your texts and calls, and you know that you’re going home to an empty house again.

Sunghoon is probably in his gig again, or maybe practicing somewhere. That’s what you thought when you entered the house, and your guess is right, it was empty and dark. As you close the door, there’s a small pain in your heart staring at the huge yet hollow house, wondering if this would be the house that you’ll go home to in a few years.

But your pondering was interrupted when you felt your phone vibrating, as you grabbed it and opened, you were surprised that Sunghoon’s calling you.

“I’ve been calling you since earlier!” you shouted the moment you answered the call.

“My parents’ are here, I spent the day with them in case you’re wondering why I was absent for today,” Sunghoon said boredly, and despite his cold tone, you were relieved to hear his explanation.

“You should’ve told me that instead of having me wonder where the hell are you,” you replied.

“Get dressed, they’re taking us out for dinner, I know you’re home by now, so we’ll pick you around thirty minutes,” and with that, Sunghoon ends the call. He didn’t even acknowledge your answer. You could only look at your phone for a minute before deciding to go to your room and find a nice outfit for dinner.

Sunghoon’s parents are a lovely couple who treated you like their own daughter. As soon as they arrive at your place to pick you up, Mrs. Park immediately approaches you with a smile on her face, hugging you tightly which you only reciprocate.

“Y/n dear! Look at you, so pretty as ever,” she said with a smile, brushing your hair which only made you smile wider. “Don’t get too stressed, okay? I know with graduation nearing, it can be stressful for you two. Just don’t worry about your marriage, focus on your studies first.”

You only let out a small chuckle, “of course auntie, thank you for the concern.”

“You’re looking out for Sunghoon,” she whispered, knowing that the subject was in the room. “It can be hard sometimes, right? I’m just happy that you’re the one that he’s going to marry. He doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

The smile on your face almost slipped, but you managed to give her a nod. The beaming smile on Mrs. Park’s lips make you wonder what she would feel if she learned about how disastrous her son is now — or how his fiance couldn’t even tame him down.

“Of course, thank you for putting your trust in me.” instead, fake words slipped out of your mouth perfectly even though you were itching to snitch your fiance to his mother.

Mrs. Park only pats your cheeks one last time before calling out Mr. Park and Sunghoon, indicating that the four of you should go now.

Arriving at the restaurant, the four of you went straight to the VIP room where food was already served. Dinner immediately commenced with a few talks and chit-chats.

“Graduation is near,” Mr. Park said in the middle of the dinner, glancing at you and Sunghoon. “Any plans? University of choice for your med school?”

“Decelis’ medical school is one of the top,” you answered diligently. “I might stay there.”

“Ah, I do remember, both your parents attended Decelis Medical School, good choice for you y/n,” Mr. Park pointed out.

“How about you Sunghoon dear?” Mrs. Park asked.

You only glanced at Sunghoon who busied himself with the food. He gives his parents a bored stare before picking up the meat on his plate, “Probably Decelis too.”

“Ah I see, you don’t want to get separated from y/n, such a sweetheart,” Mrs. Park teasingly said.

Sunghoon softly scoffs, making you glance at him. His action were left unnoticed by his parents. When Sunghoon glanced at you, he raised an eyebrow, and you wanted to say something but you held yourself back. Knowing that you two are just putting up a show to his parents.

The remaining hours were filled with nothing but silence, which you are used to. Talks about college were all the conversation revolved around, and somehow, Sunghoon managed to answer his parents’ questions like he was a diligent student who’s top of his class.

“Take care of the two of you okay? We’ll see you during your break,” after a few goodbyes and hugs, Sunghoon’s parents have left the two of you back in your house. The two of you watched their car leave and with that, Sunghoon turns around and enters the house.

You followed him, heels clanking against the marble floor. You watched as he unbuttons his sleeved shirt’s button, walking towards his room when you called him out.

“You should be glad that I didn’t tell them that you’re on the edge of failing a subject,” you blurted out.

Sunghoon merely laughs in disbelief, “oh, now I should be glad that you saved my ass earlier? Thank you then.”

You chose to ignore his sarcastic remark, “Sunghoon, you can’t give up now, we’re graduating, do you really want to get yourself delayed?”

Sunghoon only stared at you, “what if I do? Is there something you can do about it?”

You only blink for a second. “Fine, go on and get delayed, fail a subject if you want to. But do I have to remind you that Arcanum’s a university band? And by Decelis’ rules, they allow bands to perform as long as they don’t have a failing grade? So if you want to be so hard-headed about not attending class, say goodbye to your band then.”

“You’re so annoying aren’t you? Using Arcanum just so I can continue studying medicine,” Sunghoon exhales.

A haunting smirk plastered on your face, “oh no sweetheart, I’m just reminding you that you can’t chase after Arcanum, especially when it’s still tied in Decelis and your studies. So maybe rethink your life choices now before your parents find out about the mess that you’ve been doing.”

Sunghoon mockingly laughs, “you’re such a stuck-up to my parents.”

“Then make a fucking choice Hoon,” you challenged. “Them finding out through me or Decelis? Either way, it’s not going to end well, so fix yourself and get some sleep tonight. We have class tomorrow at eight. Goodnight to you.”

You end the conversation by passing by him. Going straight to your room where you immediately locked yourself. You lean against the door, Eyes shutting tightly as you try to steady your breathing. You can feel all the energy leaving your body, wanting nothing more to sleep.

You always say to yourself that you won’t give up on Sunghoon, but days like these feel like every effort you give to him is useless.

The following day, you and Sunghoon arrived at Decelis University together, creating a buzz in the campus. It was a rare occurrence for you to attend together.

Everyone knows. It's obvious that your relationship has been becoming astray, and yet, your “power couple” status remains the same. No one attempted to pursue you nor girls couldn’t flirt with Sunghoon not only because you two are tied together, but because you two are deemed untouchable because of your background.

You two entered the classroom, Sunghoon going to the corner seat near the window while you opted for the second row near the aisle. A few mutters can be heard, but you chose to ignore it, getting used to people talking about you and Sunghoon’s ‘stray relationship.’

The day goes on, classes and laboratories continue on and on, and you’ve done the class with ease. You didn’t talk to Sunghoon but you observed that he managed to catch up with your lectures despite his absences. Natural Sunghoon, he can be gone for half of the semester, and still manage to top his grades.

“Go home already,” Sunghoon said to you by the end of the class. “I have a gig tonight.”

You only gave him a bitter smile, “of course you have.”

But instead of leaving you there, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, “you know this y/n.”

“And I’m used to it,” you sharply said. “Why are you still standing there? Go now before I convince you to not go to your gig tonight.’

Sunghoon gave you another look before turning around, watching him leave the classroom as you stood there. Short conversations, sarcastic remarks, and bitter statements that’ll lead to arguments. You wonder when will this end?

“What’s wrong? You’re out of focus today,” Yizhuo asked with a worried tone. You only place your tennis racket down as you grab your water bottle.

“Just the same usual thing,” you answer, sitting on the bench as your best friend did the same thing. She places her hand on your thigh, lightly patting it.

“Sunghoon again? You know you should stop chasing after him.”

“It’s not that I am chasing him, I’m already tied to him —” you heaved out another heavy sigh. “He’s the one chasing after a dream. Bands? What’s his future with them? After college, they’ll be gone, it’s not like they’ll continue playing after college.”

“He seems to be so passionate about it,” Yizhuo pointed out. “Watched their performance last week at The Rabbit Hole, they’re great by the way.”

“He should be focusing on med school,” you explained. “But he’s out there performing and getting drunk, I don’t know Ning, I don’t know what to do with him. His parents trusted me to take care of him —”

“There you go again, worrying about things that aren’t your control,” your best friend gently pats your back. “You know, you can always back out of the marriage? You’re still young! You might even meet someone better in med school.”

That’s when you stifle a laugh, “how can I? My parents arranged this one.”

“Ran away! Do you really want to spend your life with that idiot?”

You didn’t answer your friend. Your smile disappeared, and for a moment, you only looked at the court where strangers were playing tennis. Your focus shifted to the tennis ball bouncing back and forth from the players until it went out of the court.

“I do,” you said softly, because from the very start, it has always been Sunghoon. You couldn’t imagine yourself looking for others when Sunghoon is right there from the very start.

“You’re going to let yourself be a fool for him huh?” Yizhuo asked with a disappointed tone.

But you only looked at your best friend with a determined smile, “no, I’m going to make him quit the band.”

“You know you’re already doing it but nothing’s changing,” Yizhuo said. You only gave her a smile before standing up from the bench, you two went back to the table where your bags are located.

“Then I just have to keep on trying more,” you pointed out, fishing out your phone, you opened it and saw missed calls from Sunghoon — which is a surprise.

You pressed Sunghoon’s number and after a few rings, it answered.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called.

“Hello, who is this?” you asked.

“It’s Heeseung, Sunghoon’s bandmate.”

“Oh! I remember you, you study education right?”

Heeseung faintly chuckles from the background, “yes, that would be me, but listen, uhm…Sunghoon’s drunk right now —”

“Already? It’s only ten in the evening.”

“Yeah, but you know his alcohol tolerance — listen, uhm can you pick him up? He’s passed out on the couch but doesn’t want to get inside Jay’s car for some reason.” you can sense Heeseung’s apologetic tone, which only made you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like I can leave him there right? Can you send me the location, I’ll be there in a few minutes, I’m just at Decelis’ tennis club,” you said.

“I’ll send it right now, thank you y/n.” And with that, the call ended. You grabbed your bag and bid Yizhuo goodbye.

“Just reminding you that you can always leave him!” your best friend shouted, and you only gave her a glare before sprinting towards your car.

Sunghoon’s location drove you to a huge house, just a few blocks away from the university. Parking your car nearby, you got off from it and headed towards the entrance, ringing the bell twice.

The door opened, revealing a tall and familiar guy who you assumed was Heeseung.

“You’re here, that’s great, we’ll get Sunghoon but come in first,” he said with a smile, you only nod as you enter the house.

“You’re Heeseung right?” you asked as you two walked towards the living room. Heeseung stops and looks at you, he looks surprised but only nods.

“Yeah, this is probably the first time we met, I only see you inside the campus and that’s a rare occurrence.” he said.

Entering the living room, the first thing you saw was Sunghoon flat-out dead on the couch while some boys were cleaning the mess on the coffee table along with some girls. Can beers and bottles of vodkas placed on the table along with some snacks, while their instruments are set-up on a corner.

“He said that he was on a gig,” you stated, walking towards Sunghoon.

“Yeah, we just finished it earlier and he kinda insisted that we celebrate it,” Heeseung shrugs.

“He has the guts to drink his heart out and then not go to class the next day,” you muttered under breath as you lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“He’s not gonna wake up anytime soon,” said another voice. “I’m Jay, and this is Jungwon.”

“Hi, sorry for the hassle,” the blonde boy said.

“I’m sorry for Sunghoon too, I feel like you guys always have to take care of him whenever he’s like this.”

“We’re used to it, no worries,” Jay assured.

“And that worries me more because he just doesn’t stop,” you pointed out. “You’ll end up tolerating his bad habits.”

No one said a thing. The three of them watched as you attempted to pull Sunghoon to sit up from his place, you were struggling but you were persistent.

They know how much you dislike Arcanum, seeing it as nothing but a university band who performs. Despite all of Sunghoon’s rants and complaints about you, the remaining three decided to be civil with you since they know that you’re going to be Sunghoon’s future wife.

“If that’s your worry, we don’t tolerate bad habits here,” Heeseung breaks the silence approaching you as he lifts Sunghoon on his shoulders, along with the other two who held his limbs.

“That’s not my only worry,” you whispered, Heeseung glances at you before proceeding to carry Sunghoon outside towards your car.

They set him neatly on the passenger seat, Sunghoon didn’t move nor made a sound as they put on his seatbelt. It’s safe to assume that he’s passed-out drunk and frustration is written all over your face. They weren’t that stupid to notice it, Sunghoon has lately become too attached with alcohol.

“You guys know that he’s studying medicine right? After college, he’s going to med school,” you asked them, who only glanced at each other, knowing that it’s the total opposite of what Sunghoon has been telling them.

“If he keeps going on like this, I don’t know what will happen to him in the future,” you said one last time before going inside your car and driving away from the place.

The silence was devouring, you kept on glancing at Sunghoon from time to time, checking if he had gained consciousness or not. You only tighten your hold on the steering wheel as you speeden your drive towards your place.

As you arrive at your house, that’s when you face the challenge of carrying Sunghoon inside your place. You opened the door of the passenger seat and lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder. He didn’t budge for a moment, that’s when you called out his name, shaking it harsher than before.

You watch as Sunghoon’s eyebrows knit, letting out a frustrated groan as he attempts to open his eyes.

“Get up now, we’re home,” you told him.

“y/n?” he asked before closing his eyes.

“Sunghoon! Wake up please!” you pleaded. But he didn’t move again, so you stood there, thinking about what to do with him. That’s when you used all your strength to swing his heavy arms around your shoulders but as soon as you attempted to pull him out of the car, he didn’t budge.

“Fucking hell,” you curse, removing his shoulder. This time, you shake his head while screaming his name. For a few seconds, he opens his eyes confused and drowsy.

“Just lean on me,” you instructed, you grabbed his shoulders once again and this time, Sunghoon managed to move on his own, leaning his huge body against yours. You could only groan as you helped him walk inside your house.

You didn’t even manage to reach his room, Sunghoon found himself stumbling in the living room — towards the couch where you couldn’t do anything but to fix his position. You left the living room and returned in a minute with a blanket and a pillow for him.

Gently, you place the pillow below his head and put the blanket on him. Then you stood there, eyes never leaving Sunghoon who’s sleeping now. You kneeled in front of him, brushing his messy bangs so that you could see his face closer.

“What am I going to do with you Hoon?” you whispered, eyes never leaving his face. Sunghoon looks so peaceful and gentle in his sleep — this is probably the only time you see him this peaceful.

A bitter smile escapes your lips because the more you look at him, the more it slowly sinks into you that tomorrow won’t be like this. “Goodnight Sunghoon,” you mumbled, patting his head one last time before returning to your room.

Your routine was disrupted when Sunghoon barged into the kitchen, angry and frustrated.

“Y/n!? What the fuck!?” you stopped your tracks, turning off the stove before turning around to see a disheveled and mad Sunghoon in front of you.

“Is there something wrong?” you asked.

“Don’t act so fucking innocent now, you know what you did,” Sunghood accused you.

“Maybe get straight to the point rather than pointing fingers on me,” you replied.

“You told my friends about med school,” he answered. “Now they think that Arcanum’s messing up my future.”

“Well isn’t it? Sunghoon, you really think that you’re going to play in that band forever?” you taunted. It’s been a few days since you had a talk with his band members. The following day that time, everything seems to be normal for you — not until now that Sunghoon had discovered it.

“What if I want to? What if I told you that I am not planning to go to med school and I want to perform instead?” he taunted back, stepping forward in front of you which made you step backward, trapping you between the kitchen counter.

“That’s not what’s planned Sunghoon,” you breathe, forehead creasing as you only stare at him dead. “You knew from the start, ever since we got engaged — engagement, college, marriage, then med school. That was the plan.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe things might change y/n? Maybe I want to perform now rather than take over my father’s business.”

“So you’ll be a disappointment?” you mocked. “You’ll go after your dream? Performing stupid songs and covers rather than repaying your parents’ efforts on you?”

“At least I know what I want, can’t say that to you since you can’t decide for yourself,” Sunghoon mocks.

A stinging pain burned on Sunghoon’s cheeks. It took him a minute to sink in what you just did, but he could only laugh mockingly as your eyes remained at him, wide but filled with anger. Your palms numbed as it rounded to conceal yourself from doing it again.

“At least I know what’s best for me, and you may not like it but we’re engaged Sunghoon, and I’m not going to let our future be ruined by some mere passion of yours,” you stated, gritting your teeth as your stare became cold.

Sunghoon didn’t say another word. His eyes speak for it that he’s angry, and he’s only controlling himself from hurting you despite the fact that you hurt him first. You could only stare at him, not attempting to back down.

But it was as if there’s an angel watching over you, the doorbell rang, indicating a visitor. The two of you turned your head towards the door, and before anyone could say another word, you pushed Sunghoon out of your way, walking towards the door and opening it.

“Wonyoung!?” you shouted, surprised to see your best friend.

“Surprise!” the girl shouted in glee, stretching her arms to pull you a hug which you dearly reciprocated.

“Oh my god, you’re here?” you asked, breaking out from the hug.

“I just got back from Milan and went straight here,” Wonyoung winks before she steps inside your house, your eyes following her as she goes to Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon! I miss you!” Wonyoung shouted, embracing Sunghoon who only reciprocated it.

“Long time no see, Wonnie,” Sunghoon gently said.

“It’s great — what happened to your face?” Wonyoung asked, seeing his left cheeks red.

“Bumped on a wall, but it doesn’t hurt,” Sunghoon lied, before glancing at you who only stared at him coldly.

Wonyoung seems to be convinced by it, laughing it off before pulling you two to a hug. Squealing how much she has missed you two — oblivious about the fight that happened just minutes ago.

“Do you want some drinks? Come on, sit down for a while,” Sunghoon insisted, ignoring you as he ushered Wonyoung towards the living room. You immediately noticed how Sunghoon’s face lit up, his smile becoming wider that his eyes turned into two curves — the first time in the many months that you saw Sunghoon’s genuine smile.

It wasn’t always you and Sunghoon ever since you two were kids — there were the three of you.

Wonyoung is a best friend of yours. A sister that you always needed. She’s a free-spirited girl who always indulges in fun even if it means getting the three of you in trouble.

Unlike you and Sunghoon, Wonyoung’s family is richer. She was rich enough to have a choice not to attend college and spend her parents’ money that won’t even dent their bank account. While you and Sunghoon are studying in Decelis, Wonyoung was traveling a lot, attending fashion weeks, and brand launches. Slowly, she became a well-known influencer and socialite that collaborates with well-known brands and walks for their runway. It was hard to get a glimpse of her, that’s why it surprised you that she’s here in the city.

“So, what brings you here instead of going back to our hometown?” you asked, placing the glass of juice in front of her.

“Mom and dad’s here, they’re actually planning on renewing their vows — oh by the way, you two are invited there and so are your parents, it’s an intimate event but you know them, they want it grandiose and perfect, so I have to help in organizing it,” Wonyoung diligently said. “And I miss you guys! It’s been like a year since we last hung out, hopefully I’m not intruding on whatever plans you have though.”

Talking about wrong timing. You thought. Everything is crumbling between you and Sunghoon but you don’t want Wonyoung to know about that, so you only gave her smile and said, “everything’s fine, a bit hectic because it’s senior year, but it’s a rare case that you’re here, so we’ll make time.”

Wonyoung only pouts, “you guys, I really miss you, seriously! I love my job but it gets lonely sometimes.”

“You can always go back to college,” Sunghoon teased, making Wonyoung glare at him.

“Ugh, you dumbass, if I returned to college, you guys would have already graduated!” Wonyoung whined while Sunghoon only laughed.

“Anyways, I just dropped by to show up to you guys, just tell me when you guys are free, maybe we could go out for dinner — oh, I wanted to see Decelis too! How’s that sound?” Wonyoung delightfully suggested.

“We’ll make time for you Won, just tell us when you’re free,” Sunghoon answered, making you glance at him.

Wonyoung only smiled at the answer. She told the two of you that she’s free all the time since there’s not much preparation going on. As she bid goodbye to you, you only gave her a short smile before she was walked out of the door by Sunghoon. Watching the two of them exchange banters before Sunghoon closes the door.

You stood up from your seat, ready to leave when Sunghoon cornered you immediately.

“You think we’re done? I’m not done yet y/n,” Sunghoon growled.

But you only gave him a bored smile, “Wonyoung’s here Hoon, can we just not do this? I don’t want her seeing us fight —”

“You care more about what others think of us huh? Of course, you don’t want everyone to see the ‘perfect daughter’ imperfect.”

“It’s seldom for us to see Wonnie, I don’t want her to think that our friendship is ruined, we’re the only one that she has,” you pointed out.

“Well, too bad for her, it’s already ruined, the moment both of us got engaged.” Sunghoon didn’t even let you say another word. He eventually went back to his room, slamming the door loudly like he always does.

You remained there standing, words deeply cutting through your mind. You looked at Sunghoon’s door once again, before heaving a sigh. The palm of your hand remained heavy, guilt swallowing you knowing that perhaps, you went too far this time.

Over the weekend, the three of you went out as per Wonyoung’s request. Going to a nearby mall where you three had brunch, played at the arcade, and even took photos at the photobooth. The whole day felt nice for you, it felt like you three are back as teens who would sneak out at night just to hangout and drive around town.

While you and Sunghoon are still not okay, a silent truce was made for Wonyoung. You two never tried to argue or fight whenever she’s around, and although it can be suffocating for the both of you, you two tried to act as normal as possible.

“I do wonder what would happen to us if I stayed and studied college,” Wonyoung ponders. The three of you decided to have ramen and convenience store snacks by the end of the day, opting to watch the sunset at a nearby park. It was Wonyoung’s request because she was curious what it feels like, seeing it on social media not knowing that this is also the first time you and Sunghoon had experienced it.

“What makes you think about that?” you asked.

Wonyoung only smiles, “you guys seem to be so secured with your future, becoming doctors and stuff, while me? I don’t know what I am doing.”

“You’re doing what you love,” Sunghoon butts in. “And that matters, you know? At least you love what you’re doing, not because it’ll secure you a good future.”

You know what Sunghoon was trying to say, but you remained quiet, watching as Wonyoung nodded at Sunghoon’s advice.

“You’re right, I do love the free pr packages and clothes,” Wonyoung jokes, laughing before pulling you two to a hug. “You guys are the best, hope nothing changes with the three of us.”

A meaningful glance was exchanged between you and Sunghoon. Not one said a word, only actions spoke as both of you embraced your best friend back.

The following week, Decelis University had a one-day event, cancelling academic activities which was an opportunity for you to invite Wonyoung to tour around Decelis. She arrived around three in the afternoon, hugging you and Sunghoon as she complained how organizing her parents’ renewal of vows became hectic, happy that she was able to relax for today.

The tour went on with ease, Wonyoung was curioused at the different department buildings of Decelis since its structure differed from others. Taking photos using her film camera which she used to take photos of the three of you too.

“So this is called the lover’s garden because lovers often come here?” Wonyoung asked, pointing at Decelis’ botanical garden which is actually for botany and biology students.

“More like a lover's hideaway, it’s pitch black there during night, I’m leaving up to your imagination what couples do there,” Sunghoon explains, a teasing smile on his lips as Wonyoung’s face distorted in disgust.

“Ew! Why can’t you guys book a hotel room or something,” she commented and yet, her camera was ready. “Oh well, might as well take a picture of both of you —”

“What?” you asked, appalled. “Won, we never did it.”

“And save myself from imagining you two banging, just stand in front of the entrance! You guys are a couple right? Come on now, you two don’t have a photo together!” Wonyoung insisted.

An exchange of glances was given, but before you could even complain once again, Sunghoon pulled you towards the entrance.

“Come on now, the more you complain, the more Wonyoung will insist,” Sunghoon boredly explained. You didn’t say a word, you stood there before facing the camera.

“Pose! You guys are so stiff, it’s like you two aren’t in love with each other,” Wonyoung taunted before preparing her camera again.

Funny because you two aren’t at all. But no protest was made when Sunghoon swings his arms around your shoulder before pulling you closer. You can feel your heart skip a beat, but it was immediately reminded by your mind. The more you complain, the more Wonyoung insists. Sunghoon did it so that it can be finished early, so you fake a smile as Wonyoung clicks the button.

She stares at the screen, smiles wide as she looks at you two, “you guys are perfect for each other.”

“Very funny Won,” you sarcastically replied.

After the endless walking and tour, you three stumbled at your building’s cafeteria, buying drinks as Wonyoung is still in awe about your university, totally immersing herself with your college life.

“What about dinner? I’m pretty sure you guys have a lot of good eateries around,” Wonyoung suggested, it was five-thirty in the afternoon, the sun was almost setting which meant that it's time for early dinner for most students.

“You guys can go on,” Sunghoon said, standing from his seat. “I have to go, I have a gig.”

You internally scoff, even if Wonyoung’s here, Sunghoon couldn’t bear to miss his band’s gig.

“Wait, can we watch?” Wonyoung excitedly asked, making the two of you look at her.

“Ask y/n if she wants to,” Sunghoon bitterly said, and you only looked away from him, rolling your eyes.

“What? You haven’t seen Sunghoon’s gig?” your best friend asked, confused before gazing her eyes back to Sunghoon.

Your lips tightened, “I’m busy…I don’t have time —”

“Then this is a great time to watch his gig! Come on!”

You weren’t able to object, Wonyoung was so excited that it only left you quiet as she pulled you away from your seat.

Arcanum’s weekly gig was held at The Rabbit Hole — a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge under Decelis University’s funding. The place was cozy, designed with vintage interiors with a small stage place in the end. This is the first time you went to that place, almost surprised to see that it’s full of people; locals, students, and probably fans of Arcanum crowded the small establishment.

You and Wonyoung find yourself at a table for two far from the stage but enough to see their performance. Sunghoon excuses himself as he went to the back room where it serves as Arcanum’s waiting room.

“Do you even know that Sunghoon plays in the band?” Wonyoung jokes, eyes never leaving the menu on her hand.

“I do, I just don’t have time to watch his performance,” you half-lied. The truth is, you never tried to find time to watch their performance. For what? You always say to Sunghoon whenever he invites you to his gig, you rather spend the time studying or doing something much important for you.

“Well I’m glad I’m here because we’re going to watch him perform!” your best friend giggled, you only gave her a small smile before glancing at the menu once again.

While waiting for your food to arrive, you noticed how the place slowly became full to the point that there weren’t any tables left and some people opted to stand instead. Your eyes never left the crowd, wondering if this is the usual situation to Arcanum’s gig.

Around seven in the evening, your food arrived but you were startled when the crowd started screaming — mostly girls of course, making you shift your attention at the stage.

There they were, Arcanum. The four-member band of Decelis University. They changed their school uniform with a casual street-style outfit. Your eyes fixated on Sunghoon who’s wearing a football jersey, pairing it with a huge chain necklace and cargo pants.

You watch as he busies himself with his keyboard — the instrument that he bought by saving up his allowance. You remember how he excitedly unboxed it in the living room, even testing it out while you sat on the couch reviewing for your midterm exams. Somehow, he was careful with it, caring for it like it’s his own child.

“Wow, we have a full house tonight!” your attention immediately caught on Heeseung who’s in the center, holding a bass guitar as his smile was wide and gleaming. Screams can be heard from the crowd, a fangirl even shouted “I love you Heeseung!” which only made the vocalist chuckle.

“Before that, let’s have a crowd check don’t we? Who's here for the first time?” Heeseung asked, raising his hands which a few in the crowd followed.

“Us! It’s our first time!” you were startled when Wonyoung shouted loudly, standing up from her seat as she grabbed your hands and raised it together with hers — caughting Heeseung’s attention, an evident smirk on the male’s lips can be seen.

“Oh? I am seeing familiar faces here, do we Hoon?” the vocalist teased, Sunghoon only smirked as he crossed his arms.

“I have to impress my guests, so you better do your best Hee,” Sunghoon nonchalantly replied before glancing at the two of you. Eyes immediately locking on yours as he raised his eyebrow knowingly — like he was telling you that he was meant to be there, performing.

“Well better set the mood right, come on guys,” with that, Heeseung signals the band and at the count of three, they start playing synchronically.

The crowd started screaming. You can see it, how synergized they were. They weren’t just there to perform, they were also having fun. The way Heeseung interacted with the crowd along with Jay, making the small stage as his own. He then stands in front of the microphone stand, singing the first line of a song unfamiliar to you.

“The vocalist sounds so good!” you hear Wonyoung exclaim and you only nod at her words, it is true that Heeseung was good, but your eyes darted to Sunghoon.

There he was, blending in the background along with Jungwon who’s at the drums, but compared to the junior, Sunghoon wasn’t banging his head as the drumsticks slammed against the drums. He wasn’t like Heeseung who controls the crowd, nor Jay who’s rocking his electric guitar like crazy.

Sunghoon was there like a quiet mystery, a controlled relaxed expression as he immersed himself with playing the keyboard, a few head nods as his chords synchronised with others. You could only blink, deja vu hitting you all of the sudden — you remember the first time you saw Sunghoon.

He bores the same expression that he had back when he was young. Your gaze locked on him, not noticing how your eyes met each other, but quickly, Sunghoon looked away and continued playing. Something inside you was burning, strangely your heart was beating like crazy as you watched Sunghoon perform.

You didn’t even notice that the song was finished. The crowd applauded and cheered for them, Heeseung jokingly bows before asking if the crowd wants some more.

Throughout the whole gig, your eyes never left Sunghoon. Throughout their whole performance, you watch him change his expression more than the duration that you two had lived together, but all only fell into one conclusion — Sunghoon was happy to perform. You can see it from the way he was serious while playing the keyboard up to the way he joked with his bandmates, letting out small laughter and eye smiles throughout the small break.

The gig ends around nine in the evening. As they stepped down from the stage, people swarmed them excitedly. Asking for pictures and small talks. You watch as Sunghoon happily accepts his fans’ request, taking pictures with them, which made Wonyoung laugh, knowing that Sunghoon can be awkward with strangers.

“Congrats! You guys are so awesome!” Wonyoung exclaimed as soon as Sunghoon approached you two.

“Thanks Won,” Sunghoon quietly said, before glancing at you. A moment of silence hovered between the two of you before Wonyoung nudged you.

“You did great,” you told him, giving him a small smile afterwards.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, surprised by your words. You only looked away, embarrassed while Sunghoon’s gaze remained at you.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“It’s nothing Hoon,” you quickly turned down.

The night ended with the three of you remaining at The Rabbit Hole for some light dinner and drinks. Sunghoon introduced Arcanum to you and Wonyoung once again, and it wasn’t a surprise that Wonyoung got along with them easily. You remain quiet throughout the night, listening to their conversation while you only take your space at the end of the table — knowing that you don’t relate to them at all.

Around eleven in the evening, you drop Wonyoung off to the hotel where she was staying, reminding you about her parents’ second wedding before bidding you two goodbye. The drive back to your home was quiet, an awkward atmosphere that both of you couldn’t comprehend. You can feel Sunghoon’s glance at you at every minute but you chose to ignore it, too tired to give it a meaning.

“Do you mean it?” The moment you two stepped inside the living room, Sunghoon broke the tension between you two.

You only turned around, a bored gaze staring at him but he remained unfazed.

“Do you mean what you said earlier?” he asked, merely audible like he was embarrassed to ask you that.

For a moment you ponder. You wanted to tell him that it reminds you from the time that you two first met. Like the Sunghoon who you grew up with — but your mind stopped you. What for? If you told him that, it meant that he was right, he’s much better to be a keyboardist than a doctor. That means you accept his passion.

“I wish you could’ve put that same energy in your studies,” so you told him that instead. A cold statement that your mind won’t stop reminding him.

From there, you saw how the small hope in his eyes faded, followed by bitter laughter escaping from his lips. “Why did I even bother asking you again.”

He passes by you, like you’re nothing but a ghost, going straight to his room while you left there standing alone, guilt slowly growing in your heart.

The second wedding of Wonyoung’s parents was extravagant just like what your best friend said. A small private reception was held at a banquet of a five-star hotel after their renewal at a small hall nearby. Flowers filled the white crystallized hall, something straight out of a royalty. You could only awe as you entered the place, arms clutched at Sunghoon who merely spoke throughout the day.

“Sunghoon, y/n! Glad to see you two!” Mrs. Jang approached you two with a hug and kiss, you only smiled at the woman who’s like a mother to you.

“Congratulations auntie, the vows were so sweet, I almost cried!” you said, making the woman laugh.

“I bet you’ll write better vows than me,” she winks. “Both your parents have been talking about retirement and taking care of their grandkids from you two — gosh! You two are still young! I told them.”

You only stifled a laugh to hide the awkwardness, Mrs. Jang only gave your arms a small squeeze, glancing at you and Sunghoon once again. “You two still have a long way to go, I hope you two won’t give up on each other.”

You became quiet for a minute, but immediately, you gave her a smile before nodding. “Of course, thank you auntie.”

Mrs. Jang excused herself to entertain other guests, so you took the opportunity to find your assigned seat where you and Sunghoon sat. Wonyoung was busying herself with the event organizer, you can see the stress on her face but she always lights up whenever she passes the two of you, promising you two that she’ll make it up to you two later.

It didn’t take too long for both of your parents to arrive. You and Sunghoon welcomed them with greetings and hugs, and it was obvious in their face that they were so happy to see you two together.

“Look at you two, you two are like a match made in heaven!” Mrs. Park compliments, you only chuckle at her words.

“I can hear the wedding bells already! What do you think sweetie? Will this be a great reception for your wedding?” your mother suggested.

“Mom please, let’s not talk about that right now,” you awkwardly said.

“It’s going to happen anyways,” your mother insisted. “But I do hope you two are doing well in your studies.”

“Of course, everything is going well auntie,” it was Sunghoon who answered, making you glance at him. Faking a smile to your mother who only pats his shoulders with glee.

“Well, that’s glad to hear,” your father answered. “I heard that you two will be attending Decelis Medical School. The passing rate is small there, I’m not scaring you two, just trying to remind you two.”

“Dad, we’ll be fine, put trust in the two of us,” you assured.

“Everyone’s expecting from the two of you,” Mr. Park added. “Families, friends, colleagues, everyone. They say there’s no couple who will have a better life than you two.”

Somehow, that only puts more weights on your shoulder. They’re still expecting, and you don’t know what to say to them, hence, you only put a fake smile as an awkward chuckle escapes your lips.

“Of course,” Sunghoon answers casually like he wasn’t the one who’s actually ruining the whole engagement. “Can you excuse us for a moment? I would like to dance y/n.”

“Oh, such a sweetheart! Of course, you don’t need to tell us that,” Mrs. Park insisted.

Sunghoon only glances at you, offering his right hand to you, which you only accepted. You knew that he didn’t actually want to dance with you, it’s just an excuse for you two to escape the conversations with both your parents before it gets worse.

But it leads you two to an even more awkward atmosphere. Your head low as you ignore Sunghoon’s stare that has you melting like ice. Right hand clasps to each other while your other hand is on his shoulder, as his other hand is on your waist, holding you dearly as you two dance along with other couples on the circle.

It felt orchestrated, stiff like two robots forced to dance. You could only listen to the music as you follow Sunghoon’s steps.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said.

“Rather have this than straight-up lie to our parents,” he said, which only made you bitterly laugh.

“You don’t need to lie if you weren’t fucking around,” that’s when you look at him, trying to remove his hold when he tugs you closer. His eyes bore nothing but coldness, while yours was intense, filled with annoyance.

“Everyone’s watching us,” Sunghoon whispered. “You’re not going to make a mess aren’t you?”

“Why would I make a mess at someone’s wedding? That’ll be shameful Hoon,” you stated the obvious. “I’ll be surprised if you’re the one who’ll make a scene.”

“Of course, you always think that I’ll do something like that,” he replied.

“With all the bullshits and mess you’ve been doing lately, it doesn’t surprise me at all,” you gave him a knowing smile. His hold on you tightens, squeezing your hands and you’re convinced that a mark on your waist will bloom the following day. But you didn’t want to back down, your eyes remained at him as you two continued to dance.

The song ended after what feels like an eternity. Immediately, you and Sunghoon stopped, making you remove his hold from you before giving him another bitter smile.

“I need a drink, excuse me,” you said, leaving him standing there.

You remained on the champagne section, lightly sipping the drink which you internally wince. You’re not used to alcoholic drinks but tonight feels like you needed it — maybe two or three, because you honestly don’t know what to do with your life.

The event, supposedly an event where everyone witnessed a renewal of love, made you sick rather than feel romantic. Everything’s suffocating, knowing that you’re the only one who knows about Sunghoon’s rebellion and you can’t do nothing about him while that asshole still managed to put up a show and spew lies to both your parents.

On your fourth glass, the song suddenly changed into a bright, lively one. A disco song from the 80s that had people in gowns and tuxedos dance drunkenly. And yet, you remained in the corner, watching the crowd even seeing your parents were on the dance floor too, you stifled a laugh because they were probably reminiscing about their youth.

From there, you caught a glimpse of them. You placed down the glass, stepping forward to see the two of them dancing.

Sunghoon and Wonyoung. They weren’t not only dancing, but they were laughing too. You watch as the two of them dance, copying each other’s steps, synchronising as they sing along the song. You stood there, frozen. Your eyes never leave them, watching how Sunghoon twirled Wonyoung — like they’re in their own world.

Your fist turned round, nails digging on your palm as you tried to control yourself. Something about them brewed something in you. An unexplainable feeling that you don’t want to acknowledge. Watching them hold hands as they spun along to the music, while you remained nailed to a corner, your stomach wrenched into a weird feeling. — then it hit you. Everything makes sense now.

That’s it. You didn’t think twice anymore. You went back to your table, grabbing the purse you brought and without looking back, you quietly exited the party.

You found yourself inside the restroom, locking yourself inside as you tried to control your breathing. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax — but the scene earlier just keeps on replaying in your mind. Your hold on the sink tightens, almost scraping your nails against the marble texture.

As much as you want to insist that you and Sunghoon are already arranged to marry each other, Sunghoon is far from being yours.

This has always been a marriage of convenience. You always remind that to yourself. Yet, there’s not a day where you wish that Sunghoon would see you differently. That you wish that he sees the reason why you’re doing everything for him. But from what you witnessed earlier, you realized that his heart beats for someone else.

All hopes lost. The signs are there. How can you let someone be married to you when he yearns for another? Everything you’ve done for him crumbled in an instant. Wasted and useless, because not only were your feelings devastated, but you also ruined your friendship with him.

For the first time, you accept your own defeat. You stared at the mirror, seeing your reflection disgusted you. A spiraling feeling where as you stare at her, all you can see is a deceitful girl who was too selfish and prideful — wondering, if this is all Sunghoon can see in you.

With a heavy heart, you left the restroom, walking towards the empty hallway when someone called your name. You turned around to see him standing there. Your heart skipped a beat but it’s all because of the nervousness that you were feeling.

“Where did you go?” Sunghoon asked, approaching you but you walked away further, not until he grabbed you by your arms.

“Let me go Sunghoon,” you coldly said, which made Sunghoon let go.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, I thought you’re not going to make a scene?” he sarcastically stated, making you roll your eyes, seeing that it’s just you and him in the hallway.

“Says the guy who made a scene earlier,” you mocked.

It took a minute for Sunghoon to process what you said, eyebrows knitted as he looked at you with anger. “There’s nothing wrong with dancing with Wonyoung.”

You took a deep breath before facing him. “You like Wonyoung,”

There it is, the heavy feeling that you’ve been holding in ever since your best friend had returned.

You can see it. You’re not dumb to not observe it. Still, it hurts as much as you want to avoid it, you couldn’t ignore the way Sunghoon’s eyes light up whenever he talks to Wonyoung. How his voice becomes soft and gentle — something that he has never done to you, and never will he.

Tonight was the final nail. As you watch them dance together, it's hard to ignore that something was sparkling between the two of them, and you hate that the truth is there is. They would make such a better couple, a healthier couple if you must say.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sunghoon asked, appalled.

“You can’t fool me Sunghoon, you like Wonyoung, I can see the way you look at her, like she’s everything to you,” you explained, and every word bites you, hurting you slowly like a venom trailing on your blood.

“I don’t like her,” Sunghoon confessed, and yet, he only stares at you deadpan. “But if I had the choice, I’ll marry her instead.”

For a moment you were quiet, then, a bitter laugh escaped your lips because the statement hurts more than Sunghoon actually having feelings for your best friend. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

“Hate is such a deep word y/n, I don’t hate you, we are just too different,” Sunghoon explained.

“I guess you and Wonyoung are much more similar to each other then,” you mocked.

“She supports my passion. She understands where I am coming from,” Sunghoon pointed out. “Something you never attempt to do.”

You only let out a deep sigh before staring at him one last time. You can feel it, the thumping beat of your heart, the short clasps of your breathing as you could only grasp on your hand tightly.

“If that’s the case Sunghoon, let's just end this engagement, nothing good will come out of this.”

Sunghoon looks at you confused, surprised that those words came out of your mouth. “What —”

“Hoon, I give up.” you confessed. “I am done cleaning up your mess, convincing you to focus on becoming a doctor while you go around playing in the band, getting drunk, and here you are, blatantly lying to your parents, acting like everything’s normal.”

“And who asked you to do that for me? No one, right? Admit it y/n, you’re just scared because the perfect life that you’ve planned was gone.” Sunghoon pointed out.

“You’re right Sunghoon, that’s why let’s stop this engagement. I don’t want to be married to a guy like you, and clearly you don’t want to marry me either.”

Sunghoon gives you a mocking smile. “A guy like me? Like I didn’t know your feelings for me, y/n,”

“The Sunghoon that I loved was the one who was diligent, dedicated, and nice. The one who was excited to study in Decelis to become a doctor. The one who makes me smile and cares for me. Not the drunkard asshole who’s chasing after a dream because suddenly, your life revolves around playing in the band.” you confessed, glaring at him one last time before walking away.

But it didn’t take Sunghoon a minute to reach after you, grabbing your arms and pulling you closer.

“You really think you can walk away from all of this?” Sunghoon demanded, which made you scoff.

“What is your problem!? Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re free now!” you shouted, pushing him on his chest, making him step backward and letting you go. That’s when you felt your body weakening, you could only hold on your knees as you felt something wet streaming down your eyes. You softly tap your eyes, not noticing how fast the tears streamed down your face.

This is the probably the first time you cried. You never cried when you fell from your bicycle. You never cried when you went second place on the honor’s list. You never cried when your parents lecture you. Crying is a sign of weakness for you and you know yourself, that you’re not weak.

You wanted to curse everything but only a mocking laugh was all you could do. You hated yourself for being vulnerable for a split second — that you cried because of Sunghoon. Of all the reasons that made you cry, it really has to be him.

That’s when you stood up, glancing at Sunghoon whose eyes widened to see your watery eyes. He tries to approach you but you only look away. That’s when you turned around, running towards the exit and leaving Sunghoon there frozen.

As soon as you reached your place, you went straight to your room and locked it. You leaned against the door as you deeply exhaled — but that’s where the first outburst came. You dropped to your knees, hands covering your face as you continued to wail. It goes on for so long until your breathing becomes slow, hiccups accompanying every sob that you leave your mouth.

You don’t feel anything but pain. It hurts. Everything just fucking hurts you. Watching Sunghoon be happy with someone else. Knowing the fact that he doesn’t want to marry you, and the dream of your perfect life was shattered in just a blink of the night.

Everything that you planned is now nowhere to be found. You hated that it all led to this mess, blaming yourself because maybe, there’s some ways where you could’ve prevented it. Maybe you shouldn’t have given up, this may be just a moment of weakness but hearing those words from Sunghoon, tells you that there’s no hope for everything to be fixed.

Now that everything is done, you could only grab your phone, and as you open it. Your mother’s caller id jumped on the screen. You stared at it for a good minute, but the thought of your mother being disappointed that you and Sunghoon fought, worse, you broke off the engagement scared you.

So you blocked her number and quickly dialled a number.

“Y/n? Hello?” Yizhuo’s sleepy voice answered.

“I’m sorry Ning but I need to crash into your place —”

“What, why? What happen —”

“I broke it off with Sunghoon.” you said, biting your lips to prevent the tears from falling again.

“What the fuck y/n!? Grabbing my keys right now, stay right there and I’m speeding to your place, give me ten minutes!” Yizhuo shouts.

The call hung-up immediately, which was your sign. You grabbed all the important stuff that you need. Your books, notes, a few clothes and a few toiletries that’ll last you. You still have a few months left before the semester ends, all you need to do is focus on your studies — if you fail to have a perfect marriage, you’re not letting your dream of becoming a doctor slip away too.

Dragging the luggage with you, you hear the car horn and as you step outside, you see the familiar white car Yizhuo owns.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Yizhuo said, grabbing your luggage and placing it on the back seat. You only sit in the passenger seat as you wait for your friend to enter the driver’s seat.

“You okay?” Yizhuo asked, gently patting your shoulder.

Tears started streaming down your face, you could only sob as your best friend pulled you for a hug.

“He’s not worth it y/n, you deserve someone better,” Yizhuo insisted as she broke out from the hug. “I know it’s hard for you because you love him, but are you really going to settle for less? If he truly cares for you, he’ll understand your side despite disliking the idea but he didn’t.”

You could only nod at her words, “I know, I give up Ning. I’m tired, he said he doesn’t want to marry me, so everything is useless.”

“He’s going to regret letting you go,” Yizhuo swore, starting the engine before patting your shoulder once again. “You can stay in my apartment as long as you want, don’t worry about anything, I got you in this one,” Yizhuo only smiled as you drove away from the place, and as you glanced at the rearview mirror, there it was — Sunghoon’s car.

You don’t know if he saw you leaving the place, but as you felt your phone vibrating and saw his name on your screen, you only closed your phone and glanced at the window of the car, staring at the places that you pass by, thinking that what you did was for your own good too.

Days after the party, you returned to Decelis University acting like everything’s normal.

You still did your routine, minimizing some tasks since you’re living under Yizhuo’s place and you don’t want to intrude furthermore. You had plans on renting a place on your own but it’ll be a few months until your semester break. This temporary housing of yours is better than enduring living with Sunghoon.

You still don’t know how to approach your parents with the situation, afraid that it might disappoint them, though your reason wherein it’s not your fault at all is strong, you’re still scared because you just ruin everything they have planned for you.

You only sent a short message to your father that you need time to think, before blocking his phone number too. You know that a lecture will await you, but for now, all you want is space from them. You wanted to focus on your goal without their expectations heaving on your back.

You continued going to your class. Preparations for the Decelis medical school entrance exam are near, and you’re multitasking your time doing your studies and reviewing for the exam. Despite the heavy pressure it had instilled, everything felt light for you, you felt your shoulders becoming lighter and your worries seemed to be fading day by day — perhaps it’s because you’re not worrying about Sunghoon anymore.

Sunghoon on the other hand, you don’t have any news about him. He doesn’t go to your classes either. It looks like he had made up his mind about his life, and whatever he does, you could only wish him good luck.

As you exit the department building, you hear a familiar voice calling out your name, turning around, your eyes immediately widened at the figure.

“Wonyoung, what are you doing here?” you asked, approaching your best friend who’s sitting on the gazebo in front of your department building.

“I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m sorry for ruining what you and Sunghoon had, but listen to me y/n, I don’t like Sunghoon, I treat him like a brother the same way I treat you like a sister. What he said to you was so fucking stupid.”

“You knew?” you asked, surprised.

“I went to your house the next day but Sunghoon’s the only one there. Everyone was worried y/n! They thought you two eloped, you disappeared without saying any word that night, plus you blocked auntie’s phone number.” Wonyoung explained.

“I’m sorry, I just — I needed space, my mind’s all over the place, but Wonyoung, I’m not mad at you, it’s not your fault anyway.”

“Sunghoon told me you broke off the engagement,” Wonyoung said. “Is it because of what he said?”

“He made it clear that he doesn’t want to marry me, so what’s the use Won?”

“You’re giving up now?” she asked. “You used to be persistent, y/n what happened?”

“Even I get tired sometimes, Won. Sunghoon…he’s a hopeless case. No matter how hard I tried to help him, he just didn't want my help.”

“He’s a mess right now, you know that?” Wonyoung stated. “He’s been looking for you.”

You halted because of Wonyoung’s words, but quickly, you threw her a bitter smile. “He has always been a mess Won,” you replied. “I’m just tired of picking up after him.”

Wonyoung merely nods, giving you a pitied smile as she brushes your hair, “I understand where you’re coming from y/n, I know it was also hard for you to decide to break the engagement.”

“Hopefully, it’ll pass,” you said softly. “You’re still going to be my maid of honor no matter who I’m going to marry.”

That made Wonyoung chuckle, which made you laugh, you hugged her once again and as you felt her arms wrapping around you, you felt relief.

You never wanted jealousy to corrupt your mind, but sometimes you couldn’t help but be insecure at how Wonyoung and Sunghoon’s relationship remained the same while him and yours disappeared in a glimpse. You know that Wonyoung’s not at fault in this one, everything was just a matter of fallout.

“Since you’re here already, why don’t we go out for dinner? Oh, I’ll introduce you to Ning! You’ll love her!” you suggested, immediately changing the topic.

“I’ve been dying to meet her!” Wonyoung replied, immediately tugging you so that you two can meet your other friend.

Turns out Wonyoung and Yizhuo are a two deadly duo. You were half-regretting introducing them to each other because now, they were insisting on going out for the night.

“Come on now, you don’t have any class for tomorrow and you should relieve your stress,” Yizhuo insisted.

“Really y/n? You’re going to graduate college without experiencing going out with your friends and partying? It’s a good thing I’m here because I am not taking a no for an answer,” Wonyoung added.

You only roll your eyes, “you know that clubs aren’t my thing.”

“That’s because you never experienced it! Come on now, you should loosen yourself up just for one night,” Yizhuo explained. “Please, you said you need space right? Why not relax? Just for tonight, forget about your parents, their expectations, and your studies. We’ll make it worth it.”

You only stared at the two of them, both with pleading eyes as they clasp their hands together. Another roll in your eyes was made but there’s a small smile on your face. “Fine, if I passed-out drunk, you guys take care of me.”

Both squealed in agreement, excited as Wonyoung fished out her phone to make a reservation at a famous club in the city center, while Yizhuo immediately dragged you towards the parking lot where her car is parked, excited to go home so that you can change into something daring (she said) and party all night.

The club was full by the time the three of you arrived, Wonyoung strutted on the small walkway, excusing the strangers as she held your hand while Yizhuo’s behind you, guiding your way towards your table.

A small table for three was reserved for you, a bottle of tequila with lemon and salt was arranged neatly there. As soon as you three reached the place, you immediately sat on the couch while Yizhuo opened the bottle.

“I hope you know how to take a shot,” she teasingly said as she poured the shot glass full.

“I know how to, you’re making me like I’m such a nerd that doesn’t go out of her house,” you insisted.

“She drinks, she just doesn’t like going out to clubs,” Wonyoung whispered to Yizhuo who glanced at you while you boredly raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re going to change that, cheers!” Yizhuo shouts, raising the glass which you and Wonyoung copied. The first shot of tequila went straight down on your throat, leaving a burning feeling downwards your chest which made you sneer for a second.

Shot after shot, you lost count the amount of times the three of you took a shot, the tequila bottle is almost half. Your mind has become hazy, spinning but you can manage it. All you can hear is the loud music coming from the speakers, the dj playing Taylor Swift’s songs which was so fucking random and yet, you didn’t care. You were singing your lungs out along with Wonyoung and Yizhuo who are also tipsy.

“Let’s hit the dance floor!” Yizhuo suggested when the song changed to some edm music, the three of you squeezed yourself on the dance floor, dancing and singing along as you bumped onto a few people, giving them smiles and small apologies while never stopping dancing.

You never felt more alive. You didn’t care what would happen tomorrow, all you cared about was that you’re having fun with the two girls that treat you like your sister. They were right, this is what you need and you’re just so happy that you agreed to go out with them.

That’s why you pulled them closer together, “I love you guys!” you shouted, which only made them laugh.

“Oh my gosh, she’s the emotional type of drunk,” Yizhuo giggled.

“She only says that when she’s drunk, so savor it,” Wonyoung replied, hugging you back. “I love you too!” making the three of you squeal together before breaking out to continue dancing.

You only let your body sway along with the music, not noticing a hand wrapping around your waist and as you turn around, you see a guy your age, smiling at you as he hands you his shot glass.

“No thank you,” you smiled, “I already have one.”

But he only laughed, “there’s no harm in having another one.”

You only let out a small giggle as you shrug, taking the shot and drinking it straight. You can hear his cheer, along with some guys that you’re unfamiliar with. You failed to notice Yizhuo and Wonyoung whereabouts as you continued to dance with the stranger.

“You come here often?” he asked, and you only shook your head.

“It’s too crowded here!” you shouted back. The place was getting hotter, crowds becoming bigger as the guy’s body became way too close to you.

“Crowded huh? Do you want to go somewhere less crowded?”

Maybe it was the alcohol — you don’t know, your head’s spinning and everything has become blurry to you, but all you can remember was that you nod at his answer. “Okay! I’m just going to tell my friends I’m leaving.”

“Alright sweetheart.” he smirked, his hold from your waist loosened.

You tried to find your friends, but your mind is spinning — you couldn’t even remember where your table was. Your head searched sideways, when you felt a tug on your arm, making you turn around.

“She’s not going with you,” Sunghoon said with a cold tone.

“Dude fuck off, go pick some other girls around here,” the stranger tried to pull you away but Sunghoon was fast, immediately backing you behind him.

“She’s my fiance, if you don’t want any trouble, get lost,” Sunghoon warns.

“Fuck off Sunghoon,” you rebutted, shaking your grip away from Sunghoon who was surprised by your action. “We’re through, remember?”

The stranger chuckled, “she doesn’t even want you here, so fuck off, will ya?”

But it didn’t take a split second for Sunghoon to hit him on the face. His fist landing directly on the nose which made the stranger stumble down.

Everyone was surprised when the guy fell on the ground, immediately stepping out from the fight. Sunghoon attempted to give the guy another punch but Heeseung and Jay managed to grab him. You didn’t process everything until you felt Wonyoung and Yunjin were behind you.

“What happened — Sunghoon!” Wonyoung shrieks. The stranger stood up from the ground, but Sunghoon was quick to get away from his friend and charge towards him, landing another punch, and if it wasn’t enough, he landed another, this time harder.

It didn’t take a minute for the bouncers to enter the scene, separating the two of them. You weren’t able to understand anything, all you know was that your friends pulled you out of the club along with Sunghoon and his friends.

“Dude calm down,” Heeseung said trying to keep his friend still but Sunghoon pulled away, almost jabbing his friend who only stepped back with hands raised.

“How can I fucking calm down when y/n almost got in danger tonight!?” he pointed out.

“You almost killed someone!” Jay shouted, trying to get a grip on Sunghoon but he got pushed away too.

“He should be lucky because I hold back a little bit,” Sunghoon sarcastically laughs. “He deserves it, the way he looked at y/n? I know he has bad intentions.”

“Stop caring Sunghoon!” you shouted, senses finally hitting you. “So what if I’ll go with that guy? We’re done, remember? I can meet whoever I like.”

“I don’t care if we’re through, you couldn’t even take care of yourself. What the fuck are you even doing at a club?” Sunghoon lectured.

That’s when you scoff, “just because you can have fun, doesn’t me I can.”

“Oh, so that’s your idea of fun? Getting drugged by a stranger and who knows what they’ll do to you — fucking careless,” Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh, his anger heightening as he glared at Wonyoung.

“If it wasn’t for me, she would’ve been in danger tonight, what the hell Won!?” Sunghoon angrily lectures.

“Sunghoon stop blaming us, we were there and we were just letting y/n have fun, we’re not that stupid to let her go with that guy. You just really have to interfere first,” Wonyoung explained, forehead creased with anger.

Sunghoon could only roll his eyes, groaning as he frustratedly brushed his hair. “This is fucking stupid, you three aren’t even safe there!”

“Just go home Sunghoon,” you shouted once again, making him glance at you. “You’re ruining our night for fuck’s sake.”

But in a split second, Sunghoon pulls you away from Yizhuo, and before you could say another thing, he grabs you by your knees and swings you on his shoulders, your upper body bumping on his back.

“Sunghoon! Put me down!” you shouted, punching his back but Sunghoon remained unfazed, he then glanced at his friends who were surprised by his action.

“No one follows, this is between the two of us,” Sunghoon warned before he walked towards his car.

You tried to struggle your way out of his hold, but Sunghoon’s too strong for you. He managed to put you in the passenger seat, even putting on the belt on you.

“Sunghoon —”

“Stop struggling y/n, we’ll go home now.”

“Sunghoon, what fuck is wrong with you? We’re done, how many times do I have to tell you that!?” you shouted at him. “You’re suffocating me.”

“And so do I with you, but we can’t always have what we want.” Sunghoon stated, slamming the door of the car. You weren’t able to say another word, not knowing what he meant by that.

The drive towards your place was quiet yet tense, you could only close your eyes as the throbbing feeling in your head started to become worse. You had too many to drink but all you know that what the guy gave you was just a normal shot. If it would’ve been drugged, then you should’ve been passed-out by now.

As Sunghoon parked the car inside, you could only stare at the entrance of the house. You do miss your house but there’s a deep feeling of pain lingering in your heart as it reminds you of Sunghoon. You didn’t even notice that Sunghoon had opened the door for you, and you mindlessly left the car.

Entering the living room, you only stood there as you stare at the place — Sunghoon had maintained it clean even though you left, surprising you since you spent your mornings cleaning the house.

You can hear the door closing, softly Sunghoon’s footsteps approach you but he stops midway. That’s when you realized how suffocating the emptiness the house had.

“What is this Sunghoon?” you immediately asked, not even bothering looking at him.

“I just took you home,” Sunghoon simply said and you wanted to laugh. Home. you knew that home meant a lively house with a loving family, not a tense one with a broken engagement.

“Sunghoon, since it still hasn’t sunk in your mind, our engagement is done, isn’t that what you want?” you repeated.

“Well, did you even tell that to your parents?” Sunghoon asked casually. “My parents don’t know it yet.”

You didn’t answer and Sunghoon immediately knew.

“Of course you haven’t,” he teased. “That technically means we’re still engaged to each other.”

You only closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself as you felt conflicted. “I don’t understand you Sunghoon, what do you even want? You made it very clear back then that you’d prefer to marry Wonyoung instead of me. Why bring me here again!?”

“I don’t know,” Sunghoon confessed. “It’s just…it’s so lonely here.”

“I’m not a doll that you can keep,” you heaved.

“I miss you.” he breathes, and your eyes widen but you could only let out a bitter laugh.

“Suddenly you miss me? Sunghoon the last time you told me, you don’t want to marry me. Shouldn’t you be happy that we’re done.”

“That doesn’t equate to the fact that I don’t want to call off the engagement,” he stated.

“You’re confusing me Sunghoon, stand your ground, you don’t want to marry me but you don’t want the engagement to be broken? What do you even want?”

“I was hoping that your mind might change,” Sunghoon said, almost pleading. “That somewhere in you, there’s that girl who first recognized my talent.”

Silence. You weren’t able to say another word. Slowly, you turned around to see him standing there. His gaze at you gentle and pleading, far different from the looks he gave to you.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Sunghoon told you. “Do you remember what you told me?”

Of course. “You have a talent for playing the piano!” you recalled. It was the first thing you said when both your parents introduced you to Sunghoon. It didn’t sinked into you that those words of your younger self would stick in Sunghoon’s mind.

“When I first joined the band, I thought you’ll be supportive because you’re the first one to recognize my love for playing the piano, but nothing,” Sunghoon chuckles bitterly. “I was hoping that someday, you would understand why I am chasing after my passion. That’s why I was so happy that you watched our performance that night — but you’re too stuck in that dream of yours to recognize it.”

“It’s not just a dream Hoon, it's what's expected from me, and being a doctor, that’s what’s also expected from you.”

“Have you ever thought of what you want? Are you just going to wake up everyday, listen to your parents’ expectations and follow it? Do you have any idea how sad that is?”

“I’m my parents’ only daughter, who else is going to make them proud aside from me?” you bitterly said. “And I want this too Hoon, so I’m sorry if my dream isn’t in the form of a passion unlike yours.”

“You’re not going to change your mind aren’t you?” Sunghoon mumbled. “I only pursued my passion and suddenly I’m not fit for your life anymore?”

“It’s not just about having a perfect life, Hoon. My parents wanted me to marry a doctor, and I’m not going to push you anymore when it’s obvious that your heart beats for your passion.” you explained.

“What about your heart then? What does your heart yearn for? You’re not going to fight for me anymore?” he said, almost pleading. A desperate turn in his tone shifted in you.

“I’m done fighting for you Hoon,” you bitterly smiled. “Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?”

“You’re done with me? That’s it?”

“Sunghoon, I’m really, really tired with everything.” you pleaded. “We’re just going to hurt each other the more we stay in this engagement.”

Sunghoon only stared at you. For a moment, he wanted to rebut your words. He wanted for you to fight furthermore because he knows you. You’re hard-headed, you’re not the type that won’t give up easily. But as he looks in your eyes, all he can is your desperation, eyes that scream for him that you’re tired of everything.

“You’re really tired aren’t you?” he asked once again.

“Just let me go Hoon, please.” you whispered.

“Fine,” he said, defeated. “Only if you stay for the night.”

“What?” you asked, his request was sudden.

“Stay for the night, for me,” he said, almost pleading. “After this, I won’t disturb you anymore. Please, just stay for tonight.”

It didn’t sink in everything he said, you could only stare at him, eyes wide as you can see how his eyes were almost begging for you.

“I just…miss you so much,” he whispered. “But after this, we’re done. I’m going to tell my parents that we’re breaking off the engagement.”

“Okay,” you said in defeat, and Sunghoon could only nod. He grabs your hand and you let him do so.

You found yourself in his room. The silence was engulfing, you stood there clueless as Sunghoon opened his closet, grabbing a shirt and pajamas for you — like you didn’t have any clothes left in your room next door. But you let it be, grabbing the clothes and going towards his bedroom’s bathroom.

You can feel your heart beating fast. You were nervous, you don’t know what to do since this is the first time you and Sunghoon will sleep together. Sure, you had sleepovers back when you were kids, but those were the three of you. This one is just going to be the two of you, alone, in one bed.

But that’s his only request, when tomorrow comes, everything will be over now. It’s not like you two are going to do something, Sunghoon only wishes for you to stay for the night.

As you entered the room, you saw Sunghoon sitting on the edge of his bed, already in his sleeping clothes. He only stretched out his hands which you accepted and softly, he pulled you to his bed.

“Let’s go to sleep?” he asked, almost inaudible. You only nod at his request and with that, the two of you settled underneath the blankets. You couldn’t even move, you had your back against Sunghoon and you wondered if he’s already asleep or not.

It was as if he had read your mind, you felt Sunghoon shifted from his place — and in a second, warm arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer. Your breath halted as his hug tightened, your back almost resting on his chest, like he’s never wanting to let you go. It left you even more confused than ever, you two were never this intimate, and this will probably be the last time you two will be.

“Goodnight y/n,” he whispered, and you can feel his lips touching the top of your head.

Goodnight Sunghoon. You said in your mind.

“I’m sorry for everything.” Sunghoon mumbled, barely audible.

You only closed your eyes, taking a long deep breath to hold yourself from crying. You wondered why he suddenly apologized. Why now? When everything is bound to be over. But you didn’t say a word, you tried to sleep instead, knowing that there’s no will inside you left to fight for yourself and Sunghoon.

Goodbye Sunghoon.

The first semester has ended. The weather has become cold as fall passes by. Decelis University has slowly become empty with students going home to their hometown.

The remaining months of your semester became a blur to you. You passed all your courses with ease and you managed to receive an academic honor for it. Emails from medical school offers had been appearing in your emails too, which meant that you’re secured to attend med school after graduation. Everything has been good to you — you got everything you need.

When you returned to your hometown, your parents spared you. They told you that they understand why you did it, letting it pass since you didn’t abandon your studies at all. They learned from Sunghoon’s parents that the engagement was called off. They didn’t ask you furthermore about it, and you could do nothing but to apologize not only to your parents but also to the Park family. Disappointment runs through your mind, especially when Sunghoon’s parents trusted you with their son — only for you to fail them.

A knock on the door disturbed your day, as you turned around you saw your parents entering your room.

“Still studying dear? You’re doing too much now y/n,” your mom softly said, sitting on the edge of the bed along with your father.

But you only smile, “I want to make sure that I’ll be able to pass Decelis’ entrance exam for medical school, you told me that the passing rate there is small.”

“Yes I know that sweetie but you’re doing too much, why don’t you do something else aside from studying?” your father suggested.

But you only let out a laugh, “I'm all good dad, thanks for the concern though.”

“Have you ever thought of doing something else y/n? Something that you love?” your mom asked. That’s when you dropped your book, glancing at the two of them.

“Love?”

“A hobby, what about tennis? You’re great at that sport, maybe you can be an athlete,” your mom happily said.

“Oh, I do remember that you used to do ballet, I think you still have the skills sweetie,” your father added, which left you confused but chuckling.

“Mom, dad, what is this all about?” you asked. Silence hovered in the room for a minute, both your parents looked at each other, trying to signal each other who should talk, which left your mother sighing.

“Maybe, we shouldn’t have pushed you too hard to become a doctor,” your mother pointed out. “And it’s okay for us if you don’t want —”

“I want to become a doctor mom, that has always been my dream,” you rebutted, shifting your focus on your book. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me.”

“We had a talk with Sunghoon’s parents,” that’s when you stopped, glancing at them once again. “They explained why you two called it off.”

“Okay,” you shortly replied. You remember that night where you and Sunghoon slept together. His apology still lingers in your mind. There’s a part of you that wanted to know what he was sorry for.

But the more you stay there, the more the pain deepens in your heart. You slipped away from his hold the next morning, and starting that day, you never heard anything from Sunghoon.

He didn’t show up to any of his classes. He just disappeared like a bubble. Wonyoung told you that he doesn’t reply to her texts either. You don’t know if he continued performing in Arcanum, or did he ghost his band members. It’s funny how even though you two are already over, you still have a bit of concern for him.

“Sweetie, we understand Sunghoon. He chose his dream and maybe it was a little disappointing for you because you always dream that you and Sunghoon will become doctors together, but there will come a point where your dream will change.” your father explained. “Sunghoon just so happens to rekindle his passion for music, it happens.”

“And there’s nothing I can do about it,” you told them. “That’s why there’s no reason for the engagement to continue.”

“We shouldn’t have pressured you to become a doctor,” your mother insisted. “We were wrong in that part, and we’re very sorry about it dear.”

“Mom, even if you don’t pressure me, I still want to become a doctor no matter what, I will follow your footsteps, so don’t be sorry about it.”

“It’s not just about becoming a doctor,” your father pointed out. “It’s about your engagement with Sunghoon, we shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s already over, so you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Listen y/n, when we set you and Sunghoon to marry, it’s not for our business to emerge. We just knew that you two love each other.” your father explained, hand resting on your knees. The old man faintly smiles at you. “You two were too young to understand it, but it was also our fault for putting so much expectations on the two of you — we should’ve let you two navigate your feelings on your own.”

“But you said, I should marry a doctor,” you pointed out. “I always knew that it’s going to be Sunghoon, but he changed dad. If he can’t be the one, I’ll just find someone in med school.”

“Oh sweetie, we’re terribly sorry for saying that,” that’s when your mother pulls you to a hug. “But we still want you to marry for love, and dear, it’s not always about his profession, but how he’s going to treat you as your husband.”

“Why now? Why say that to me all of the sudden?” you questioned, breaking out from your mother’s touch.

“We didn’t think it’ll come to this point —”

“No, because from the very start you two insisted that I should marry a doctor because that’s what you two wanted for me! I was lucky that Sunghoon wanted to become a doctor but when he changed his dreams, I did everything just for him to go back!” you shouted.

Both your parents were surprised to hear your voice raise. You stood there, shaking as tears started to flow from your eyes once again.

“I did everything in my life just to please your expectations because I know that you two always know what’s best for me, and I didn’t want to fail you guys. But now, I feel so stupid because suddenly, I have the freedom to choose what I want,” a bitter laugh escapes your mouth, you brushed your hair as you bit your lips. Trying to stop the tears from falling.

“I even roped Sunghoon in my dreams because that’s what you guys want for me, and I was scared of disappointing you two if he didn’t become a doctor — you could’ve told me from the start! Then maybe, I could’ve supported Sunghoon instead of suffocating him.”

Your parents remained quiet. Sitting there as they watch their daughter cry. Both of them were surprised, never thinking they’ll see you cry. You have always been a strong girl for them, but then again, everyone crumbles.

“We can still fix it dear,” your mother insisted.

“It’s too late now mom,” you answered. “It’s not just about the engagement, Sunghoon and I, we’re done with everything. We spent our lives living up to your expectations, and this is the only time we made a choice for ourselves.”

Before they could say anything. You scurried to grab your phone and jacket, storming out of your room as your parents couldn’t do anything but watch you disappear from their sight.

You found yourself at the small playground near your house. Sitting on the end of the slide as you hiccup your cries.

You hate your parents and how their mind suddenly changed in a glimpse. Marry for love? Love was never the problem for you, it was the fact that they spent your whole life shaping you into an ideal life only for them to take it back. You’ll marry for love in a heartbeat but it never crossed your mind because their expectations came first.

If only. You could only think of the what-ifs because somehow, you spent your whole life making your parents proud — that you couldn’t even make a choice on your own. “Do you have any idea how sad that is?” you remember Sunghoon’s words to you, making you close your eyes as tears continued to flow along with your soft sobs.

Sunghoon’s right. All your life you did your best to follow your parents’ footsteps, never tried to navigate other hobbies or passions — perhaps that’s why you weren’t able to understand Sunghoon’s dreams at all. You suddenly felt lost, not knowing what to do with your life anymore. Sunghoon and Wonyoung, they’ll be choosing the things they love.

What about you? You don’t know anymore, you don’t even know if becoming a doctor is what you want — or it’s just something that has been engraved to you by your parents that you learned to love it somehow.

“y/n?” You looked up and to your surprise, Sunghoon’s mother was standing in front of you.

“Auntie,” you quickly stood up and wiped the tears away. “What brings you here?”

“I was supposed to visit you today,” she said with a soft tone. “But I caught you here on the way, is there something wrong?”

You immediately fake a smile, even though your nose was runny and eyes are puffy red, you tried your best to assure the woman that you’re okay. But she simply shakes her head before patting your head.

“Come on, let’s have a talk.”

You two ended up in a small coffee shop nearby. You watch as Mrs. Park lightly sips on her tea, before glancing at you. She then smiles, and you can see where Sunghoon got his eye smile, and somehow, that comforts you.

“When Sunghoon told us that he wanted to play for a band instead, we were disappointed,” Mrs. Park explained. “His dad was furious, but what else can we do? Stop him from doing what he loves?”

You only remained quiet, listening to Mrs. Park as she softly chuckled. “As parents, we only want what’s best for our children, but it’s still up to them to choose their future. For Sunghoon, we let him be, it’s what he wants.”

Then, she glances at you. “You know, Sunghoon broke the engagement because he doesn’t want to hurt you anymore?”

“I’m sorry I gave up on him.” you apologized immediately. “We — we’re just too different auntie.”

“Well, opposites do attract my dear,” she jokingly said, making you let out a small chuckle. From there, her expression softens. Looking at you pitifully, the woman can see the stress you went through and it breaks her heart, knowing that they were the reasons why you’re like that.

“You’ve done a lot for my son y/n, and I am thankful for that,” Mrs. Park smiles. “You’ll be a great wife for him, someone who’ll come to knock his senses but — everyone gets tired sometimes.”

You only smile at her, but Mrs. Park’s eyes glistened with a meaningful smile on her lips. “That’s why it’s important to rest, everything is not the end just because you were tired.”

You became quiet because of her words. Mrs. Park stretches her hand, holding your hand as she squeezed it lightly. “Just rest dear, take your time for yourself, everything is not too late.”

“But —”

“Listen to your heart this time dear, only your heart knows what’s truly best for you.”

You returned to your shared house a week before the next semester started.

The moment you opened the door, you were welcomed by its hollow silence, making you bitterly smile because you do miss the silence — and you’ll miss it more now that it won’t be the place you’ll go home to.

Slowly, you opened your room and noticed that it was the same as how you left it the night you ran away. Sunghoon didn’t touch any of it, and you were glad that he didn’t. You didn’t waste any time, you grabbed the luggage that you brought with you, packing all the things that you have in your room.

You spent the day packing your things. Neatly folding everything, and stacking it inside your storage box. You managed to finish it before sunset, going back and forth to load it inside your car. And with one last glance in the empty room, you could only mutter goodbye as you dragged your luggage with you.

But as soon as you reach the living room, you hear the doorknob unlocking, making you stop. You can feel your heart starting to beat fast, praying that it won’t be him.

“Y/n?” you saw how Sunghoon’s eyes widened as he saw you, but his eyes immediately darted at the luggage that you were holding.

You only took a deep breath before giving him a smile, “I just came by to grab my things.”

“Wait, wait — why?” Sunghoon hurriedly went towards you, hands grabbing your arm.

“Our engagement’s over Sunghoon, so there’s no need for us to be together,” you gritted your teeth. Every word felt like a knife stabbing inside you.

“Y/n, can you just listen to me —”

“Sunghoon stop, there’s nothing for us to talk about.”

“You know that everything’s not too late right? We can still fix it.”

“What’s to fix Sunghoon?” you asked. “I thought we made it clear that we’re done.”

“If you’re done fighting for me, then I’m fighting for you now,” Sunghoon insisted, grabbing you by your shoulders. You tried to get out of his hold but he tightens his hold on you.

“Why now Hoon? Where were you, when I was fighting for everything? You can’t just enter my life and expect me to accept you immediately —”

“I love you okay!?” he shouted, completely shutting you off. Eyes wide from the sudden confession.

Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes stressed and dark, yet it screams for your plea. “I’m sorry that I realized my feelings just now, I know I was late but it’s never too late for us, just listen to me —”

“Hoon stop —”

“Y/n, just for once why don’t you listen to your heart?” Sunghoon stated. “You know deep inside, that it’s not too late for us to fix it. Your parents, my parents, they know that it’s not too late, it’s only you who doesn’t want to —"

“Because I’m scared, Hoon!” you shouted, shutting Sunghoon off.

“I don’t know what to do with my life anymore Hoon and that fucking scares me. Suddenly I have my own freedom and I don’t know whether my decisions will be right or wrong. If I end up choosing what my heart wants, I might just ended up failing myself”

“You know you don’t always need to be perfect right?” Sunghoon whispered to you. “People make mistakes y/n, we’re flawed, and there’s nothing wrong with making mistakes.”

You only shake your head. “I don’t know Hoon, I don’t know what I should do anymore.”

“Just listen to your heart,” The hold on your shoulders tightens. “Go for the things you love, not because it’s what your parents taught you, or because it’s what’s for the best. You know this y/n, what do you want?”

You. You thought. In a heartbeat, it has always been Sunghoon. Despite all the mess, the rough paths, and fights you two had. In the end, your heart beats for him.

And as you look at him, there were no longer cold gaze and emptiness in his eyes, his eyes yearn for you too. The years of your unrequited love for him are over now.

“It’s you Hoon,” you mumbled, a bite on your lips as you started stuttering. “I’m just afraid after everything that happened to us.”

“We can work it out, we may have started on a rough path but I know that we can make it through.” he deeply sighs. “I’m sorry for everything, I know I said some harsh words but I was angry at that time, I’m sorry y/n, I was just frustrated but I didn’t mean every word that I said, it has always been you,”

You only stared at him, “how can I trust you Sunghoon?”

“Let me make it up to you y/n,” he swore, hands finding its way to your face. “If you let me, I’ll prove it to you.”

“How? How can I be so sure about you?”

“We’ll start again y/n, don’t worry about us, we’ll navigate this together, I won’t hurt you anymore.” Sunghoon promised. “Just be with me okay? You’ll be there for me right?”

You only stared at Sunghoon. He has his lips tightly sealed, his eyes were searching for yours, the same eyes that yearned for you that night. Your heart started beating faster, and you weren’t able to process that tears are starting to fall from your eyes. Your mind was telling you to run away again, but your heart — it beats for him.

You don’t know what to say, you only nod at his words. That’s when Sunghoon understood what you meant. Slowly he leans in, closing the space between the two of you.

You always thought that your first kiss with Sunghoon would be at your wedding. After you two exchange vows. It'll be short yet momentary. Significant in your life and a symbol that you and Sunghoon are going to be together, forever.

But as he kissed you right now after swearing to prove his worth for you, that’s when it halted you that Sunghoon’s words weren’t just empty promises. The way his lips trailed on yours, hands holding your face gently as he tilts more to deepen the kiss — making you kiss him back, softly yet surely.

You two weren’t wearing your wedding clothes, no rings, nor applauses from the crowd. It’s just the two of you, alone, in your house’ living room.

As you two broke from the kiss, Sunghoon’s forehead rested on yours, catching each other’s breath, you can see the small smile forming on Sunghoon’s lips.

“Tell me it’s true Sunghoon,” you whispered to him, eyes never leaving him. “I want to hear it from you.”

“I love you y/n,” Sunghoon confesses. “It has always been you, and no one else.”

You could only chuckle in disbelief as you felt a tear fall from your eyes, Sunghoon quickly wiped it off with his thumb before pulling you for another kiss, to which you responded quickly. From there, everything started to heat up, you could only place your arms around Sunghoon’s neck as you two continued to kiss like there’s no tomorrow.

Sunghoon didn’t waste any second. He grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up with ease without breaking the kiss, while you wrap your legs around his waist for support. The two of you ended up in his room wherein he gently placed you down to his bed.

“Are you sure about this?” he softly asked, eyes never leaving yours. He looks at you lovingly, like he was mesmerized that you’re his.

“I’m sure,” you answered. “And I’m sure that it’s going to be you Sunghoon.”

“I’ll take good care of you then,” Sunghoon answered before leaning down for another kiss. You only closed your eyes and kissed Sunghoon back.

You can feel it. The longing of tasting each other. The way Sunghoon kisses you gently, taking his time to savor you as he deepens his lips on you more. Soft nibbles on your lower lip making you whimper softly.

It went on and on, no one dared to break the kiss. Both hands trying to navigate each other. His right hand finds its way to yours, clasping between your fingers as he rests it on the side of your head.

Sunghoon breaks from the kiss, but immediately places his lips on your jawline until it reaches your neck. Planting soft kisses like he wanted to taste every skin of yours. His left hand finds its way to your body, gently tracing your upper body as you grasp on his sheets.

“Can I?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shirt, which you nodded feverishly. You lifted yourself slightly for Sunghoon to remove your shirt before removing his shirt too. His toned body, and carved abs revealed in front of you which you could only stare for a minute. Who would’ve thought that underneath those baggy hoodies and large shirts, is a godlike body?

On the other hand, Sunghoon didn’t waste any time, he grabs your face once again, locking you to a kiss that’s more intense, hungrier than earlier. He was battling to get a taste of you more, tongue swiping on your lower lip making you moan, you could only shut your eyes as Sunghoon sloppily entered his tongue inside you.

Teeths clashing, tongue travelling inside you, your body started to heat up as Sunghoon continued to taste your lips further. He then started targeting your neck, making you tilt your head to make room for him. Hot, messy, wet kisses trailing on every skin his lips could reach. You let out a soft moan as Sunghoon’s hands trailed towards your bra, softly cupping your breast while his lips continued to bite your neck, sucking it lightly leaving purple marks all over it.

“So beautiful, only for me right?” he whispered to your left ear, planting a kiss on it before glancing at you.

“Only for you Hoon,” you whispered back, Sunghoon merely chuckling before darting his eyes on your lower body.

“Is this your first?” he asked, you only nod.

“Been waiting for you.” you muttered, and the next thing you knew, Sunghoon’s lips were on yours once again.

“Good girl, we’ll make it worth it yeah?” Sunghoon asked. “It’ll be special for us, we’ll be each other’s first. I told you I’ll prove my worth to you.”

Sunghoon gently unbuttons your pants before tugging it downwards, leaving you in your panties while he hastily removes his shorts, leaving him in his boxers.

“Come here love,” he gestured as he sat on the mattress, you only followed him as he pulled you to sit on his lap. A gasp leaving your lips as you could only hold your breath, feeling Sunghoon hard underneath. He’s big. You can feel it as you sit prettily on it, your clothed cunt just right above it.

Your thoughts only trailed off as Sunghoon continued to kiss you, hands attempting to unclasp your bra which made you chuckle in the middle of your makeout. You helped him unclasp it before throwing the bra somewhere.

“So fucking gorgeous for me,” Sunghoon gestured. His hands started circling on your boobs, cupping your right side making you whimper. Sunghoon's eyes never leaving yours as his hands trailed downwards, fingers tracing every skin of your body until it reached the hem of your panties.

“Is it okay?” he asked.

“Please Sunghoon,” you pleaded, unable to ignore the heat that you’ve been feeling.

Sunghoon’s fingers delicately feather on your clothed pussy. You softly moan as his palms cup it, rubbing on it as the slightest friction heats you furthermore. You wanted more, unknowingly you bucked your hips to his hand. Sunghoon fastens the way he rubs your pussy as you continue grinding against it.

“Sunghoon —”

“Do you want to touch mine too?” he asked, tone deeper than usual. You only stared at him for a good minute before you nod.

Sunghoon grabs your hand, gently guides it until your palm rests on his hard-on. It’s straining underneath his boxer, and just from your touch, you know that one hand wasn’t enough. You palmed it slowly, hearing soft breathing Sunghoon which fueled something in you.

“Can I do it?” you asked, your hands trailing on the hem of his boxer.

“Go on love,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your temple.

You pulled Sunghoon’s boxer, his hard length springing from it. Hard and thick, you looked at Sunghoon as you wrapped your hands around it, and you’re right, one hand isn’t enough. Your hands reach its tip, the pre-cum budding on its end, having you smear it as you circled your palms on his tip.

You watched as Sunghoon looked at you darkly. A faint smirk on his lips as you felt his fingers slipped under your panties, you let out a soft moan as his fingers found their way on your pussy. Softly trailing on its lips before going up to your clit, three fingers circling it slowly which made you twitch for a second.

Your hands started to stroke Sunghoon’s cock, slow and steady like you're memorizing every inch of it. It goes the same with him as he continues to rub your clit, harder leaving you breathless as you continue to pump his cock faster, squeezing his tip at every chance that you can. Earning breathy groans from him.

“Going to prepare you love, just breathe for me okay?” Sunghoon instructed and you could only moan in response. Your other hand found its hold on his shoulders, head resting on it as you nervously can feel his fingers near your entrance.

“You’re so wet for me, so fucking good,” he whispered to you, before slipping inside your pussy. You let out a deep sigh as his index finger rested inside you. “Just relax for me okay?” slowly he drags his fingers in and out, watching you fall in front of him as you couldn’t do anything but to leave breathy moans.

“Sunghoon —” you called out as you could feel him insert another finger inside you, the sudden move made you squeeze his dick hard, making Sunghoon curse under his breath. You mindlessly continued to stroke it as Sunghoon’s fingers circled inside you.

“Relax for me love, we don’t want to hurt you,” Sunghoon assured, kissing your right temple as he continued to finger you. It’s playing inside you, knuckles deep as his long fingers kept pumping inside you, curling at a spot that you feel sensitive the most. He’s stretching you, trying his best to prepare you, his fingers continue to scissor your walls at a right pace, reaching deep inside you.

“I want to come,” you mumbled as you could feel it coming inside you. Your hands gave up on stroking his dick, which made Sunghoon slow down his actions.

“You’re going to come with me inside, can you do that?” you quickly nod in his words, kissing his lips as he removed his fingers from you. You didn’t miss the way your pussy ached, but Sunghoon was quick to grab your waist.

Gently, he lays you down on his bed, and you watch as he reaches for his bedroom’s drawer, pulling the upper box and scavenging something there.

“Why —”

“Just making sure we’re safe,” Sunghoon told you.

“Yeah, but why do you have that…” you mindlessly asked, heat rushing towards your cheeks as you stared at Sunghoon.

“Heeseung gave it to me as a joke —” Sunghoon groans, embarrassed. “But at least we’re safe, right?”

“Right,” you whispered, leaning more against the pillow.

Sunghoon removes his boxer. Your eyes wandered at his cock again, hard and lengthy, you could only bite your lips as you wondered how it would fit you. Sunghoon eyes on you, like he's ready to devour as he pumps his cock with his right hand while he bites on the foil packet, tearing it open and grabbing the condom, sheathing it on his already sensitive cock.

Both of you never left each other’s gaze, you lifted your lower body for you to remove your panties, shamelessly spreading your legs in front of him. Your heart started to beat fast, nervousness started to hit you, but you were only assured when Sunghoon planted another kiss on your lips.

“Take a deep breath for me, okay? I’ll put on the tip first,” he guided you. You only nod at his words, laying back as you try to relax yourself.

Sunghoon could only bite his lips as he stared at you, legs spread with your glistening pussy on display. You’re his. You’re his to keep. Something about that thought had Sunghoon’s heart racing, unraveling a feeling of having you all by himself.

Sunghoon kneels in front of you, hands on your thighs as he hovers over you. He grabs his cock, stroking it steadily making him hiss lightly, at the same time, he grazes it on your cunt’s lips, making you moan.

You took a deep breath as you felt Sunghoon’s dick on your entrance, its girth enough for you to whimper even though it was just a tip. Sunghoon kept on glancing at you, trying to test if you can take it, careful as he pushed his tip inside you, making you let out a soft groan.

“Fuck Hoon,” you said, feeling your entrance tearing apart.

“It’s just my tip love,” Sunghoon told you, “we can stop if you want —”

“No, no, I want it,” you let out a sigh. “Please, just go slowly.”

“You want it all inside?” Sunghoon asked, eyes wide.

“I want to feel you, Hoon.”

Sunghoon was hesitant, seeing your eyes start to water, he was scared. You noticed the way his expression shifted, quickly pulling him for a short kiss with your eyes firm on him. There, he was assured, a short nod as a signal.

“Alright, relax for me okay? We’ll take it slow.”

Sunghoon started slow. Only pushing his tip in and out, so that you can still feel good. Then, he started to insert himself inside you, slow and careful while you could only take hasty breaths, holding it every time you felt yourself getting stretched.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sunghoon whispered. “So small and tight, you really waited for me huh?”

“Hoon —”

“It’s okay baby, I can move if you want me to,” Sunghoon assured.

You tried to adjust to his size, you’re too full and his dick’s fully sheathed inside you, but it feels good, you wanted more of him. You tried to move, bucking your hips upwards to test the waters, making Sunghoon glance at you.

“You wanted it baby?” he asked, before spreading your legs wider, wrapping it around his waist as he hovered over you.

“You can move now Hoon,” you said.

Sunghoon moved for a bit, carefully checking on you in case you might get hurt. But you quickly nodded, he pulled his dick out of your pussy, eyes surprised as the blood smeared all over the condom. It’s normal. He thought, but it still made him worried.

“I think I tore you,” he mumbled to you.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Fuck, just put it in Hoon.”

With that, Sunghoon chuckles darkly. “Impatient already?”

Without a warning, Sunghoon pushes himself inside you, making you heave out a moan. A mouthful of curses leaving his lips as he started to thrust himself inside you. A steady pace that’s not rough enough for you but will leave you crying out of pleasure. He continued doing so, until he fastened his pace, too lost in the pleasure of his cock ramming your walls. Sunghoon could only utterly groan as your pussy continued sucking him in.

“Only for me —” Sunghoon moans. “So tight for me, there’s my good girl.”

“Hoon —”

“Want me to go faster? Want to take all of me?”

“Please — ugh, faster please.”

Sunghoon answers your pleas, grabbing your waist, lifting your stomach area, and in a second, he pulls his cock slowly and slams it inside you harshly, making you moan loudly as the pleasure was too much for you. Hands tightly gripping the sheets as your toes started to curl. Only wanton moans and Sunghoon’s names would leave out of your lips, calling his name like a mantra as his dick keeps on abusing your hole, reaching to the deepest part, feeling how his tip rubs a sensitive spot.

“Hoon, want you —” you called out, stretching your hands which Sunghoon eagerly accepted. Both hands intertwined, placed both either on the sides of your head as Sunghoon continued to thrust inside you.

Sunghoon locks his lips on you once again. A feverish makeout, making everything hot yet intimate as both your bodies were glued together. Skin to skin, not minding the warm temperature the room exceeds and how sticky both you are with your sweats. All that matters was how he kisses your lips like it’s his last meal on Earth, savoring the taste of it while his cock underneath fastens its pace.

“You’re so beautiful, all mine right?” he growled on your lips, making a short thrust which left you gasping. He can feel it, your pussy tightening, almost wanting for him to not leave, he continues to thrust in such pace as he watches your face distorting in an unreadable expression.

“Come on, say it love,” he commanded, giving you another thrust so hard that you choke under your breath.

“All y-yours! Fuck —” you cried, everything is too overwhelming for you. But Sunghoon was relaxed as he continued abusing your pussy.

“So good for me,” Sunghoon kisses your temples.

You could only close your eyes, too shut that it hurts. Concealing every cry as your legs started to shake, stomach coiling, and unable to control your breathing.

“Hoon —”

“Gonna come now love?” you heard Sunghoon asked, and your choked moan was the only thing you could say.

“Let’s come together, hold it for me can you?” Sunghoon fastened his pace, leaving you crying out of pleasure. He can feel everything tightening, his dick twitching indicating that he’s also near. It didn’t help that you’re sucking him hard. Everything just feels good for both of you, but Sunghoon wanted for it not to end. He wanted to linger more, to touch you more until he memorized everything about you.

“Fuck —” Sunghoon was almost shaking, his grip on your hand tighten as he glances at you one last time, he leans forward sealing you to a kiss so soft that it completely contrasts how the rough thrusts that he gives.

“Go on, come,” he whispered to you, thrusting sharply that you could only moan as your wave of orgasm came rushing inside you. Your legs shake violently as you let out soft breathing and whimpers. You weren't able to sink in how Sunghoon groaned at the same time as you, his thrust becoming sloppy as he came inside the condom. He thrusted a few times before pulling out, you could only whine because of the loss, not being able to process as Sunghoon lay down beside you.

Sunghoon quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you a hug which only makes you drowsy. You can feel his skin against you, his warm touch that felt more nothing but a comfort to you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

“It does,” you answered. Now that the high has left you, you can feel your cunt aching due to the sudden penetration. It did feel good but you didn’t expect for it to still ache afterwards.

“I’ll run a bath for us, don’t sleep on me yet,” he suggested.

“But I’m sleepy,” you mumbled. “Can we just stay like this?”

“Let’s clean each other first, come on,” he pulled himself away from you, you could only watch as he sat on the bed. Pulling the soiled condom, seeing it all bloodied, Sunghoon’s lips turned into a thin line before tying it and covering it with tissue. He throws it in the trash bin before walking towards his bedroom’s bathroom.

A few minutes later, he returned to grab you, carrying you bridal style which you didn’t mind, too tired to think about. The bathtub was only halfway full but Sunghoon quickly dips both of you inside. Your back resting against his back as you could only hum, relaxing into the warm water.

“You okay?” he asked, his arms possessively wrapping around you.

“I’m tired,” you mumbled. “I want to sleep.”

You hear Sunghoon chuckle, “never thought you'd be the type to get tired after one round.”

“I didn’t know it’ll be this tiring,” you mumbled. “Or maybe I was also tired from packing my things.”

“Which wasn’t necessary,” he kisses your temples. “Because you’re still staying here with me.”

You only hum at his sentence, closing your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just rest for me okay? I’ll take care of you.”

“Alright.”

“I love you,” Sunghoon stated, a loving kiss planted on your head.

“I love you too.”

Last night felt like a dream.

You opened your eyes to see yourself in a familiar room. Its silence comforts you in an indescribable way. Seeing how the sunlight sweeps through its curtains, indicates that you’ve slept past your usual wake time — a rare thing for you to happen. You sat up from the bed, noticing that the sheets are different and so are your clothes. A large shirt that almost pooled your thighs along with some boxer shorts in the shades of blue, hitting you immediately with reality.

Last night felt like a dream but you remember every detail of it vividly. You could only hug your knees as the sudden shame came rushing to you. Cheeks are heating up as you can still feel sore down there. Never expect that everything will lead to you losing your virginity to Sunghoon.

You can feel your heart beating, you remember every word said last night. The arguments, and promises, the way Sunghoon looked at you — everything. Everything was real yet it felt surreal. That’s when you glance to your left and see it empty. Sunghoon’s not here, and the thought of Sunghoon leaving you shadowed over your mind.

Quickly, you jumped out of the bed. Light footsteps open the door of his room, and as you skirt outside, you can hear the faint sound of cooking in the kitchen — that’s when you felt relief.

Slowly, you entered the kitchen to see Sunghoon cooking what you concluded were pancakes. He places the last batch on a plate before turning off the stove, turning around only to be surprised to see you standing there.

Silence devoured both of you. Not knowing what to say at all. After all the fiasco that you two had, some issues that needed to be solved, and of course, last night’s intimacy, everything suddenly felt awkward for both of you.

“Good morning,” Sunghoon breaks the ice first. “You’re awake now, let’s have some breakfast.”

“I thought you left,” you blurted out, immediately sinking in that you shouldn’t have said that.

You saw the way Sunghoon's forehead creased, confused. “Left? Why would I leave, I stay here.”

“You stay here?” you asked.

Sunghoon only quips a small smile, “I stayed here, waiting for you…hoping that you’ll come home.”

“Oh.” you only look away, embarrassed at the thought, and yet, a part of you was surprised by what you heard.

Sunghoon really meant what he said, and the thought that he waited for you to come home instead of going after you — he gave you time to think and waited for you to return, while at the same time, it gave him time to navigate his feelings for you. He’s right. It wasn’t too late for everything.

Sunghoon places down the plate on the dining table. While you only sat on the chair, watching Sunghoon set up the table for you. He offers the plate for you as he sits beside you. From there, you two sat in silence, eating the perfectly-cooked pancakes.

Weird. You thought as you took small bites on the food. Everything feels at ease, but you know that there’s still many issues that two have to address. Last night was just a swirl of each other’s emotions, although a proof of each other’s promises, you still don’t know what to do with your situation with Sunghoon.

“What — what happened last night?” you asked. Sunghoon chokes on his food, startling you. “I mean, during the bath —”

“Oh, you fell asleep halfway, nothing happened after, I slept eventually,” Sunghoon explained.

“Alright,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. As you looked at your unfinished plate, you wondered about the two of you, almost immediately things won’t be easily like the way it was.

“Hoon,” you whispered, trying to carefully set the atmosphere.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, almost concerned.

“I just — I don’t know what to do with us,” you confessed, almost bitterly smiling. “All my life, I always knew what to do, I had a clear path of everything, dragging you in it which you obviously didn’t want to. But now that we have different goals, what about us?”

Sunghoon quietly looks at you. His soft expression completely contrasts the worried look on your face. Gently, he brushes the stray hair that covers your face, with his hand on the back of your neck, Sunghoon remains quiet as a smile forms on his face.

“I’m not leaving you y/n, don’t worry about us. Let’s just support each other alright? I know it’ll be hectic for each of us because we’re going different place, but this place,” Sunghoon’s eyes wandered around the house. “This is going to be our home. We’ll make it a home for us.”

“What about our engagement? It’s over now,” you asked, worried.

“Let’s get engaged when we’re ready, okay? Not because our parents set us up, I want our relationship to be genuine and real. I still have to prove my love for you.”

You only chuckle. “You already did.”

“It’s not enough, one night doesn’t change anything.”

You only nod at his words. “Thank you Sunghoon, for giving me another chance.”

“I should be the one who’s thankful to you, you never gave up on me even when I treat you badly,” he insisted, making you laugh.

“It’s my fault too, I shouldn’t have pushed you to my dreams too much.” you rebutted. “But I’m here now, I’ll support you in your dream.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” Sunghoon stated.

Nodding at his words, Sunghoon pulls you for a hug, his arms instinctively lifting you from your seat, pulling you to his lap to hold you even more tightly. You rest your head on his shoulder as your arms swing around his neck.

Silence hovered the dining area. You two remained there, never letting go of each other. The tranquility gives you two peace, feeling nothing but each other’s warmth as Sunghoon traces circle around your back, while you rest idly on him. It was comforting and assuring, and your heart swells in joy because your future with Sunghoon was never lost to you.

Epilogue.

As you open the door of your house, you immediately switch the lights on, revealing its comforting silence that only made you smile. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus filled the room, the relaxing scent coming from the air diffuser you and Sunghoon bought a few months ago, automatically reminds you of your lover.

“Hoon, I’m home!” you shouted, removing your sneakers when you heard the door of your shared room (formerly Sunghoon’s room) open. Sunghoon approaches you with a smile, gently cupping your cheeks to seal a kiss.

“Welcome home,” he greets, making you smile.

“What’s the occasion? You’re all dressed-up, or have you just got home from your class?” A year wasn’t that long, but a lot of things have changed between you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was given another chance from Decelis to finish his degree in medbio, stating that it’ll be a waste for him to not continue it. Although the two of you knew that the degree is deemed useless, Sunghoon let it be, a deal that he had with his parents for him to continue playing in the band.

After graduation, you agreed to Sunghoon to take a few months before entering medical school. Although you’re already on board to attend Decelis Medical School, you decided to take time to spend with the people you love because you know how hectic med school will be.

Arcanum continued performing. After graduation, they became an independent band. Slowly, their popularity is starting to rise. Getting invited to events, university festivals, and of course, they still do their gig in The Rabbit Hole, which became more popular and crowded than ever. You, on the other hand, always manage time to watch their performance along with the other band members’ girlfriends — who you eventually became friends with.

“I’m taking you out for dinner,” Sunghoon simply replied, grabbing your bag as he scurried his way back to your bedroom, which you only followed.

“Why? What’s the special occasion?” you asked, laughing.

“Nothing, just want to take my girl out, is that so bad?” Sunghoon grins, and your gleaming eyes can see how excited he is, like he’s preparing for something.

You only hum, as you proceed to your shared closet. “Alright, let me just freshen up for a bit and change.”

You two arrived at the restaurant not an hour later. The receptionist guided you to your reservation which surprised you because Sunghoon had reserved a private room for the two of you.

“This is,” you held your breath as you looked at the room. Nostalgia hits you because Sunghoon had brought you to the place where you two were formally engaged by your family.

“You still remember it?” he asked, smiling.

“Of course,” you could only mumble. “I was nervous. We were friends who suddenly became fiances at eighteen, it was a sudden turn.”

“I was nervous too, but I was in relief because my family chose you,” Sunghoon confesses. “Although we went through a rough path, I’m glad we were able to overcome it.”

You only smiled back at him. “So am I.”

Food arrived minutes later, along with some white wine of Sunghoon’s choice. The two of you spent the remaining time reminiscing, talking mostly about your childhood days, especially the embarrassing moments that had you two laughing loudly.

“I have some news for you,” Sunghoon blurted out, completely changing the topic between the two of you.

“What is it?’ you asked, taking small sips from your glass.

“Daydream Records called yesterday,” Sunghoon started, his smile grew wider, eyes almost turning into a curve. “They’re interested in having us in their label, it’s a five-year contract and they will manage everything for us — can you believe it!?”

“Oh my god —” words got stuck in your throat. Immediately, you stood up from your seat, approaching Sunghoon who only waited for you to fall into his arms. Pulling you on his lap as you embraced him tightly. “Hoon, oh my god — this is good news! You guys will become famous!”

“Becoming famous is still far for us, but no more hassle schedules, and Heeseung’s girl doesn’t need to partake in managing us, we’ll have our own manager, our own studio — everything!” Sunghoon excitedly shared, making you smile wider.

“That’s great love, I’m so, so proud of you and Arcanum,” you only said, leaning on him to give him a deep kiss on the lips which he only reciprocated.

“We’ll be busy this year, you’re going to attend Decelis in two months, while once we sign our contracts, we’ll be gearing up to release our debut single.” Sunghoon explained. “We might always come home to an empty house now.”

“Are you afraid?” you asked worriedly.

“Of course not, I have faith in both of us, but y/n,” he settles you on the chair in front of him. Hands holding you as he gives you an assuring smile. “We might not see each other from time to time because we’re too busy, but I want to let you know that I will always support you no matter what.”

Before you could say anything, Sunghoon grabs something from his coat’s inner pocket, your eyes widening at the velvet box that he’s holding.

“Hoon,” you whispered.

“We were tied to be married when we were young, and we promised that we’ll only get married when we’re ready, and though one year has passed and a lot of things have changed, we still have a long way to go, for us.” Sunghoon stated.

You remained quiet, only staring at him who gently cups your face.

“I want you to think of me whenever you see this ring,” he said as he proceeded to open the box. Your eyes widened at the pair of rings — both have subtle engraved diamonds, with the other one thinner with a much more intricate design.

“And I’ll think of you whenever I see the ring too,” Sunghoon added. “It’s a promise ring. A promise for us that we’ll be with each other no matter what. It’ll be our strength especially during hard times.”

Tears started flowing from your eyes, out of happiness, you let out a choked laugh as you wiped your tears away — bumping into Sunghoon's hands who faltered a laugh as he gently wiped the tears away.

“Hoon, I don’t know what to say…I love it — gosh, I love you so, so much, you don’t know how happy this makes me,” you could only say, almost stumbling to your words.

Sunghoon didn’t say a word. He removes the ring and gently puts it in your ring finger, fitting perfectly like it was meant for you. You copied his action, grabbing the other band and placing it in his ring finger.

“Promise me that you’ll be there for me,” Sunghoon stated.

“Of course, I’ll be there for you, just like you’ll be with me,” you only smiled. “Forever.”

Sunghoon grabs your cheeks once again, planting a kiss on your lips which you delicately replied, sealing the promise you two have. Breaking the kiss, Sunghoon only stared at you, eyes brightening as his smile became wider.

“Forever.”

2K notes · View notes

babeyun · 6 months ago

Text

on the rebound ☆ p.sh [m]

synopsis: sunghoon doesn't mind babysitting for the neighborhood mothers - but he certainly doesn't mind when a certain eldest daughter is around to be taken care of, too. genre: acquaintances to ???. older!reader moment (because why not, but also it doesn't really come up.) angst, fluff, smut. this porn has plot, damnit! pairing: babysitter!park sunghoon x fem!older!reader ; mentions of heeseung x reader. word count: 6k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol (that they don't even drink LOL) mentions of toxic relationships, rebounds, reader is only older by a year. smut warnings: oral (f. rec),MUNCH!HOON!! PUSSY EATING ENTHUSIAST HOON!!! nipple play, subtle body worship (f. rec), unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), sub!hoon x sub!reader (just trust me), creampie, subtle breeding kink, wayyy too much whining and whimpering, pet names (pretty girl, baby, etc.) listen to: lie to girls - sabrina carpenter ; number one girl - rosé ; wait - dino ; btbt - b.i, soulja boy, devita ; die for you - the weeknd. author's note: this is for all my eldest daughters out there (not me but y'all stay safe!) i whipped this up while i was procrastinating studying for finals...so apologies if it's shitty (because it is shitty.) also, i dog on heeseung SOOO bad but i promise i love him i just needed someone. this being said, happiest birthday hoonie, i love u!

You and Sunghoon weren't strangers, you wouldn't go that far.

However, there was a good reason that you weren't friends – you were never home when he was at your parents' house. You'd moved out with your boyfriend a month or so into him babysitting your menace of a sister. She was well-behaved for him, but had been an absolute tornado of a child when your mother would ask you to babysit. You were actually the one who found Sunghoon through an ad on social media, and he'd been yet another thing to add to your parents' monthly budget.

Then again, no one told them to have another kid so late in their lives. Or yours, for that matter. You were eighteen when Mina was born, and it'd been a pretty rocky five years since then. You went off to college and didn't really get to see her grow up, and she soon learned you were someone she couldn't depend on emotionally because you were rarely able to stick around outside of holidays. It pained you, but you knew you'd eventually get the time to bond with her.

And that time came very quickly after meeting Sunghoon – because your boyfriend dumped you after six months, insisting he was too busy with school to maintain a relationship. Heeseung was a graduate student, and he tutored on the side for extra cash. Your parents funded your lifestyle, so you'd never worried about anything – until Heeseung sat you down and said that the relationship was stressing him out.

Needless to say, a week after the breakup – you moved back in with your parents and left him to figure out the rent himself. It was a calculated move, but your parents agreed that you didn't need that kind of energy in your life. It didn't stop you from remembering all the other times Heeseung dogged you – from taking continuous 'breaks' from your relationship in the three years you were together, to falling prey to temptation (read: another woman grinding on him at a bar while you were two feet away.)

And you talked about him to every person you possibly could – including now, your little sister's babysitter as he washed dishes in your parents' kitchen. The conversation hadn't started out this way, he'd actually been telling you how much Mina talked about you while you were gone.

"Anyway, that kid loves you, man." He nodded as he slid a plate onto the drying rack, and you laughed softly. "Mina was born when I was a teenager. She just thinks I'm cool now, she'll go through the phase of hating me when she's older." You shrug.

"I wouldn't be so sure. She talks about you a lot, something about you playing a viobib?" His brow is arched, and you snort. "Violin. I played her the violin one time so she'd leave me alone. I'm surprised she talks to you so much, she has a hard time warming up to anyone. Even my boyfriend can't get her to talk to him."

His eyes narrowed slightly, "You have a boyfriend? Since when?" You shrug again. "Since before I met you. I guess I should say ex, though. Boyfriend is the title he prefers, but not the one he deserves. At least, not right now." You say pointedly, and his brows furrowed as he leans on the counter, arms crossed.

"Elaborate." "You're babysitting my kid sister, not giving me counseling."

"Consider it a perk for eldest daughters who act like they deserve shitty men." He says, a bite to his tone as you scrunch your nose. You sigh, nibbling your lip before rolling your eyes. "We're on-and-off. Sometimes I call it off, sometimes he does. He's in grad school and he tutors, and he said everything was stressing him out. He dumped me a bit ago, and I moved back in here. I'm surprised I haven't seen you around more."

"Right, so what about that arrangement is making you believe that you deserve this sort of behavior?"

You peek up at him, his brows still furrowed as he awaits your answer. Your stomach tightens a bit as you blink. "I guess…I don't know, actually." "Okay, then ditch that loser." He shrugs, and you scoff. "He's not a loser. He's smart and sweet and we're just going through a rough patch." "If you have to justify his presence in your life or his treatment of you to your friends or anyone you talk about him to, then he's a loser. He sucks and he doesn't deserve to have access to you in any way." Sunghoon clasps his hands in front of himself, and you frown.

"He's nice enough." "Yeah, so is any other guy, babe. You're not gonna give just any dude a chance because he's 'nice enough,' are you?" He peers at you through his shaggy hair, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly in embarrassment. "The fact that you allow that behavior, seemingly quite often, will only make him make you his doormat. He'll do it over and over until he's sick of you, then he gets to dump you and make it seem like it was a mutual thing. You won't win in a situation like that." "It's not about winning." You mutter, grabbing a peach out of the fruit bowl in front of you. He leans back on the island, arms crossed in front of him.

"Isn't it, though? There is always a prize and a player in a relationship. You," He taps the tip of your nose with his finger gently. "Are the prize, and he's the player. If he's not playing to win you, then he's playing to lose and wasting your time."

You stare into his eyes, not missing the way his brows jump as he leans slightly closer.

"Stop wasting your time on a shitty dude when you can do so much better. Especially if you're really as cool as Mina says. Kids don't lie about people they admire." His tone is slightly teasing, and you roll your eyes. "Mina has thrown eggs at me, I wouldn't be so sure she admires me." "I don't know, she said you're really nice to everyone. That you're funny, you can sing…dance…" Sunghoon lists a few things your sister said while you were asleep, and you feel your ears grow hot. "She also said you're the one who taught her how to do backflips, and that she wants to be like you when she grows up. I'd suggest getting that guy out of your life sooner rather than later so you can set a good example." "Did she mention him?" Your eyes snap up, and Sunghoon shrugs. "Once or twice. She said he makes you cry more often than not." You snort, shaking your head as you look down. "What does she know? She's five."

"Kids see things from an unbiased perspective, they're still learning how to be functioning humans. She associates him with you being upset, so I wouldn't be surprised if you told me that you're 'on a break' right now. I've been listening to you for five minutes and I already don't like this guy. If he cared, he'd be here. He doesn't care." "You're only saying that because it's what I need to hear." You roll your eyes as you avoid the rest of his spiel, and Sunghoon shakes his head, stealing a grape from the ones he washed for you earlier. "I'm saying that because it's the truth, and when I love, I make sure the person I love knows." "You don't even know him." You scowl, and he smirks. "Don't have to, babe. It's all over your face. You look defeated as hell when you talk about him." "Not your babe, Sunghoon." You shake your head, and he shrugs. "Could be, if you ditched that guy. I don't even know your favorite color but I can almost guarantee I'd be a better boyfriend than him."

"My favorite color is green." You mutter, and he leans closer to your face. "Anything else you wanna tell me about this guy?" "Why? You'll just be mean about it." You mumble, licking your lips when you feel his fingers tilt your chin up. He coos, "You're cute when you're defensive over a scumbag." "Stop that." You shove his hand away, and he smiles. "You need a rebound or something. All you've been able to talk about since you moved back is this guy. He sucks, babe." "Ugh, I know! Alright, I know he sucks, you don't have to rub it in." You frown, biting into the peach in your hand. "D'you know he'd never tell me I was pretty? I mean, I know I am, he didn't have to. But it would've been nice to hear every once in a damn while." You chew angrily, before hearing him laugh softly. "You have enough confidence for a man to feel like he doesn't need to tell you that. You carry yourself so well, it's honestly very sexy." You look up at him, meeting his eyes. They're calm and sincere, like he didn't just call you sexy in the middle of your kitchen while you're wearing a random t-shirt and sweatpants. "Me?" "Yeah, you. It's just us in here, Y/N." He snorts, "You seriously need to get over this guy. I don't like hearing you talk about this like you deserved it." "What do you know? You hardly know me." You know your voice sounds bitter, but it only spurs him on. "Don't need to know you super well to know you just need to feel appreciated." "Right, appreciated." You roll your eyes, tossing the half eaten peach in the trash. "Like I'm gonna find that in a rebound." "You can." He nods, making you snort. "Like who? You?" "Sure." He shrugs, and you nearly choke on your own spit. "What? Sunghoon, be serious." "I am being serious. If that's what it takes, I'm all for it." He shrugs again, like this is the most nonchalant thing ever, like he's not offering to fuck the bitterness out of you so you'll act normal again. You gawk at him, "Sunghoon, I cannot just use you like that. We hardly know each other, are you insane?" "Is it insane if I say I want you to?" He leans forward on the counter, a soft blush on his cheeks. You gape at him, his finger coming to close your mouth. "Does it matter how well we know each other? I'm sure it'll be a one time thing, and since we don't see each other often, I don't see the harm." "You want me to use you to get over my ex-boyfriend? You want to be my rebound?" You're shocked at his suggestion, he can tell as he shrugs. "You can use me anytime you want. Think about it." He winks, pushing off the island.

You feel your cheeks grow hot as he leaves the kitchen, letting you sit with your thoughts.

Sunghoon lived a mile away, in an apartment complex you helped him pick out once your parents hired him. Your mother had insisted he live in the house, but your father refuted by saying Sunghoon was a grown man, he needed his own space. You'd taken him to fill out the paperwork, and it was one of the last interactions you'd had with Sunghoon before moving out.

You sigh shakily, running your hands through your hair.

It wasn't the worst idea. You knew that Sunghoon wouldn't have offered it if he wasn't attracted to you, at least. You knew what it was like to feel desired, but something about the way Sunghoon looked at you made you feel giddy.

Maybe it was the promise of feeling something new, or the idea that you shouldn't do it – because he works for your parents. Getting involved with you could cost him his job, if anyone found out.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and you sigh as you reach to grab it.

Message From: Park Sunghoon (Babysitter) [8:32pm] you know where i live if you're down. [8:32pm] just let me know, gorgeous.

Fuck.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad fucking idea.

It hadn't even been a day since you and Sunghoon had the conversation in your parents' kitchen. Or rather, the awkward moment in your parents' kitchen.

It'd been three hours. It was nearing midnight as you stood in front of the elevator, the cold December air biting at your exposed legs. You'd gone to a late dinner with your friend Aeri, and you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that her encouragement is what got you into this predicament.

The elevator dings, revealing a young girl and her dog attempting to step out. You give her a soft smile, earning a nod and a have a good night as you step in. You press the button to the third floor, bouncing on your heels as the elevator starts moving. This could be the worst fuck of your life and you won't even know until after, or even during. What if it's the best fuck of your life and then you're just forced to be around him as his employer rather than a potential fuck buddy or even worse, a girlfriend? "Get it together, Y/N." You mutter to yourself, hearing the elevator ding as you reach the third floor. You step out, turning to the right and walking past three doors, before standing in front of his apartment. His doormat is that of a frat boy's – Please Don't Do Coke In Our Bathroom.

You snort, before knocking on the door softly. You hear rustling, and the lowering of a TV before the pitter-patter of dog feet. You hear him sigh as he unlocks the door, his face appearing before you as he opens it. He looks surprised.

"Y/N, what a pleasure." He speaks smoothly, and you roll your eyes. "It's cold, invite me in." You cross your arms across your chest, making him smile as he steps to the side. You walk in, shivering as you carefully step out of your heels. You squat to pet his dog, but she disappears behind his legs. You pout at him, and he just snorts. "She's shy."

"It's fucking freezing outside, Hoon." Your teeth chatter as he closes the door, taking your scarf as you hand it to him. "Well, you're barely dressed. I assume it would be cold when you're half naked." "Did you want me to wear layers and make this take ten times as long? Be serious." You huff, sliding your coat off. Granted, you'd put this dress on with the idea of going to a bar after dinner and posting thirst traps on your story for Heeseung to see and yearn for…

Which is shitty of you to appear in Sunghoon's apartment after thinking that way.

"I don't think you wore this for me, Y/N. You were at dinner with Aeri." He rolls his eyes, and you forget he also has your Instagram. "Man, just take the win. Do you wanna fuck me or not?"

He shrugs, "Do you want me to?" "You wouldn't have offered and I wouldn't have shown up if the answer to either of those questions was no." You say pointedly, and he clicks his tongue. "I guess you're right." "I usually am." You roll your eyes, making him laugh. "Here, have a seat." "What, are you gonna wine and dine me?" You tease, and he smirks, disappearing into his kitchen. "Could say that." You take a seat on his couch, looking around the apartment. He's decorated in a very Sunghoon way – lots of black decorations and shelving on the exposed brick, an array of books on a shelf to the left of his desk and a record player. You look at his coffee table, the fashion magazines and editorials stacked high.

"You always snoop through people's things?" His voice rings behind you as he holds two glasses and a bottle of wine you're sure you've seen only in your father's reserve. You huff, "Well you leave me here to entertain myself, I'm bound to look around." "Valid. Come on." He tilts his head for you to follow him, your cheeks aflame as you do just that. He leads you down to his bedroom, a large bed with a black duvet in the middle of the room. More books, a few incense candles, a few figurines in the corner of his room. "I like what you've done with the place." "Thanks, it only took fucking forever to figure out what I wanted to do. I think the exposed brick makes for a bigger headache than those home bloggers make it out to be."

It makes you feel at ease, how easy conversation can be with Sunghoon. He doesn't make anything feel inorganic, but he also doesn't talk more than necessary in order to get his point across.

"How long were you with that guy, anyway? Here, put this on." He holds out a pair of sweatpants, which you take with a quizzical look. "Three years. Uh, Hoon, the point is to be naked here, not put on more clothes." "Is that how it was with him? You'd just show up and strip?" He rolls his eyes, digging a shirt out of his dresser for you. You feel your cheeks warm as he hands it to you, before giving you a glance. "Was it?" "...Kind of." You look at your feet, and he sighs. "Yeah, well…I don't play that. Do you need help getting your dress off?" "Oh, yeah. Just the zipper." You turn, pulling your hair to the front. You feel his fingers graze your back, before he tugs the zipper down in one go. He snaps your bra strap playfully, "We can lose this, though." "Yah!" You swat his hand away, making him laugh as he turns away. "Do you want to watch something or just talk?" "We can watch something, whatever is fine. Just nothing scary, my room is spooky at night." You shudder as you undo your bra, folding it in your hand before tugging the shirt over your head. "Oh, do you intend on driving home after?" "Did you want me to stay?" Your words sound a bit bitter, and that only makes Sunghoon frown as he scours the selection on HBO from his bed. "Dude, the more things you say, the more scummy I realize this guy was to you. Next thing you know you'll tell me he never went down on you." You freeze, and Sunghoon gapes at you as you turn around, pulling the shirt down your torso. "Y/N, you've got to be kidding me." "No, he did a few times, I swear!" You try to defend him, but Sunghoon only scoffs out a laugh. "That's fucking insane. Like, actually insane." "Hoon, you're embarrassing me." You whine, and he only blinks. "Why would you be embarrassed that he didn't wanna eat you out? That in itself is embarrassing for him. Real men eat pussy, and they eat it with gusto." "Shut up." You cover your face with your hands as you hear him sigh. "I'm just saying. Now, come on. Either put the pants on or lie the hell down." You huff, shoving the pair of sweats on before joining him on his bed. This is normal, friends fuck all the time.

Except you and Sunghoon are not friends.

You must've spaced out, because the feeling of Sunghoon squeezing your knee makes you jolt. "What are you thinking about?" "Nothing." You lie, shaking your head. He hums, turning his attention to the random movie on the television. "You're a bad liar, you know?" "Am not." Scoffing, you turn to face him. Your knees hit his outer thigh as you turn, and he gives you a lazy smile. "You are. You were staring off into space and chewing on your cheek for like, five minutes. What's up?" You scrunch your nose, looking down at your hands as he tilts his head. "You can tell me, you know. I don't judge." "Don't you, though? I mean, I'm here after you absolutely dogged on my ex earlier." You snort, and he smiles. "I'm judging your ex, not you. Well, not right now at least. I will always dislike the fact that you think you deserved that treatment, let alone from a guy who probably couldn't even make you cum." Your eyes snap to his, shock across your face as he pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "Babe, come on." "He was nice!" You whine, and Sunghoon just laughs in disbelief. "Don't laugh! It's not funny!" Your lip is jutted out in a pout, before Sunghoon maneuvers you onto his lap. He makes you move up closer, your ass resting high on his thighs. "He really didn't make you finish?" You groan, adjusting yourself to sit comfortably. "I mean, he did a few times. Just not as often as I would've liked. I don't want to talk about him." You rub your temples, Sunghoon's hands finding home on your hips. "Okay, we don't have to. Tell me what you like." "What I like?" You repeat, and he nods. "Yeah. Like…positions. Any kinks, anything I should know to make this the best experience possible."

"...Does it matter?" Your voice is meek, and he rolls his eyes. "Yes, it matters. I want you to feel good. If you don't know, I can figure it out. You just have to trust me." You feel your chest warm at his words, and you glance at his face as he speaks again. "We can go as slow as you want, this is about you." "But what about you?" You toy with the hem of your shirt, and he smiles. "I'll enjoy myself either way, don't worry about me." His hands squeeze your hips gently as he looks down at you. "You okay?" "I'm nervous." You mumble, looking away as he coos. "Baby, you don't need to be nervous. It's just me." His hand comes to hold your jaw gently, making you face him. He squeezes your cheeks gently, making your lips pucker.

"You're so pretty." He smiles as he compliments you, making you roll your eyes in embarrassment. "Stop." "Why? You are. Pretty little thing." He's teasing you, your hands now holding onto his wrist as he inches closer. "Should I kiss you?" "Yes." Your reply is more of a breath, and he chuckles. "Seriously, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you, promise. Unless you're into that."

"Kiss me already." You groan, making him roll his eyes before closing the gap between you. His lips are soft and taste like cherry Chapstick. His hand lets go of your face, moving slightly down to the base of your neck. Your own hands move to fist his shirt as his teeth nip at your lower lip, a whimper from your throat making him move you impossibly higher on his lap. His other hand moves to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair to hold you steady as his tongue slips into your mouth.

"You'll stay the night, right?" He pulls away from your lips, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You nod as best as you can with his hand in your hair, "Yeah. If you want me to." "I want you to." He whispers, before letting go of your hair. "Can we take this off?" He tugs at the shirt he gave you, and you move to tug it over your head. He lets you, watching the way your hair cascades down your back. His hands find home on your waist, his thumbs barely grazing the underside of your breasts as you look back at him, flinging the shirt somewhere behind you.

He doesn't say anything, only meeting your lips in a kiss. It's softer this time, but your tongue finds its way into his mouth gently. He sucks on it, hearing a low moan from you as your hips cant against his. "Sorry."

"No, don't be." He shakes his head, pressing chaste kisses to your lips. "Use me however you want, baby. That's what I'm here for."

"But–" "This is about you. Just let go." He meets your lips once more, kissing you deeply as his hands grip your hips tightly. He moves you against his hardening cock slowly, setting a gentle pace for you. You follow his lead, rutting against him as his hands move upward before you grab them and place them on your chest. He groans lowly into your mouth, thumbs grazing over your pebbled nipples as he drags his lips down your jaw, your soft whimpers filling the air as his teeth nip at your neck.

"S'fucking gorgeous." He murmurs against your skin, tracing his tongue down the gentle slope of your neck, a shudder running down your spine as he kisses down your chest. "Can I?" His doe eyes peer up at you though shaggy bangs, and you nod quickly. Your fingers card through his hair as his tongue flattens against your nipple as you groan.

"Feel good?" He mumbles against your skin. You only breathe out shakily as you nod, your lip bitten between your teeth as he nips and sucks his way across your chest, your nipples glistening with his spit. He scrapes his teeth against one gently, earning a guttural groan from your lips as he kisses up your chest. "Wanna taste you, angel. Can I?" Your pupils are blown as you look down at him, your fingers pushing his hair back as his hands dip below the sweatpants you're wearing. "Can I?" "Okay." Your voice is slightly raspy with lust, and he smiles softly before pressing a kiss to your lips. "We can stop anytime, just say the word."

You nod, moving off his lap. He lays you back on his pillows, kissing your lips softly before trailing down your body. "So beautiful, baby. Can't get enough of you." He kisses down your stomach, before his teeth catch on the waistband of the sweatpants you're wearing. He bites down carefully, pulling them down your legs as you cover your face with a whine. "Something wrong?" He calls, pulling them off your ankles and flinging them to the ground.

"No." You respond weakly, and he smirks as his fingers land on your thighs, pulling you closer to him. "You're lying." "You're just hot, okay?" You peek at him through your fingers, seeing him shake his head as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your skin. You jolt as he smiles, before sinking to his stomach and spreading your legs. You hear a soft whisper of shit from his lips. "Sorry? Is something wrong?"

You try to move away, only for Sunghoon to hold your hips down. "You're fucking soaked, doll. Holy shit."

He doesn't give you a chance to respond, opting to press his face against the sticky fabric of your ruined underwear and inhale deeply, a whine from his throat hitting your ears as he noses at the fabric. "You're so fucking hot."

You feel his tongue before you reply, the underwear a useless attempt at a barrier as he finds your clit easily. Your thighs tense around his head, his preening at the taste of you just through the fabric is enough to make him cum in his pants. "Hoon…" You mewl, your fingers tugging at his hair to get his attention. He only hums in response.

"Take them off." Your whine is loud, and he hastily pulls your underwear down your plush thighs, throwing it over his shoulder as he dives back in, tongue lapping at your wet cunt like a man starved. You're a moaning mess as his pouty lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently as he pushes your thighs open further, working two fingers inside you carefully. He groans at the way you clench around them so tightly, your walls so warm and wet as he curls them into you.

"Taste so sweet, pretty. Would never give this up, ever." He murmurs against your clit, pressing wet kisses to it. You can't even respond, your eyes screwed shut as you cant your hips against his mouth harshly. "That's it, baby. Come on, give it to me." He's whining against your pussy, latching his lips to your clit as your thighs begin to tremble.

"H-Hold my hand." You mumble, and Sunghoon immediately laces his free hand with yours. "Need you to cum on my tongue, beautiful." His fingers find that spongy spot, making your soft belly cave in as your thighs close around his head. A choked moan leaves your lips as you coat his tongue and lips in your orgasm, your body trembling beneath him as you try to push his head away from you. "S'too much, Hoonie-" "One more, baby. You can give me one more." He bullies his shoulders through your thighs, moving to hover over you. He presses his wet lips to yours, your tongue attempting to collect any taste of you off of him. He lets you deepen the kiss, his hand snaking between your legs to rub teasing circles into your clit. Your mouth falls slack, your nails digging into his bicep. "One more, baby. Wanna feel you around me." "O-Okay."

He reaches over you to his nightstand, pulling the drawer open to find an empty box of condoms. "Fuck, wait. I think–" "Want it raw." You mumble, eyes closed as your hands run under his shirt, fingers tracing circles into his softly chiseled abdomen. His eyes are wide, his hand coming to your face, stroking it gently. "Look at me. Are you sure?"

"Positive. Want it, Hoonie. Wanna feel full." You barely open your eyes as you nod, turning your head slightly to kiss his palm. He shivers slightly, closing his eyes to compose himself as he nods. "O-Okay. Alright." He straightens, pulling his shirt over his head and quickly pushing his sweats down. You don't bother to look down, knowing in your heart the stretch will be worth a thousand viewings. He pulls you to the edge of the bed by your thighs, carefully tucking a pillow under your hips as he rests your leg on his chest. He kisses your ankle softly, before running the leaking tip of his cock through your wet folds. He nearly buckles, the warmth almost debilitating as he eased himself into you. Your mewl is so soft he almost misses it, his eyes darting to your face as he slowly sheaths himself inside you, biting his lip so hard he's sure he'll draw blood. Your lips are so swollen from the kissing and biting that he can't help but lean over and kiss you gently, burying himself to the hilt inside you. Your soft whisper of fuck is against his lips. "Move, Hoon." "You gotta give me a second, baby." He whines into your neck, making you clench around him. "Fuck, fuck don't do that." His hips jerk involuntarily, earning a choked moan from you as your nails dig into his shoulder. He straightens himself, figuring if he's going to cum fast, he'd better make it worth your while. He pulls out almost entirely, pushing your thighs to your chest as he bullies his cock back into you. Your moans are so loud he's lost in them, your chants of yes, yes, right there so overwhelming for him as he tries his hardest to stave off his own orgasm.

"Feel so fucking good, baby. Shit." He whimpers into the air, his grip on your thighs bruising as you mewl beneath him, your hands finding his wrists. "Kiss me, Hoonie. Wan' a kiss.." He leans forward, the kiss a mess of teeth and tongue as he bottoms out inside you repeatedly. His tip is bullying your sweet spot relentlessly, making you whine into his mouth. "Want you to cum in me." You whisper, and he almost stops as the words hit his ears but your nails drag down his back. "Want you to fill me up, Hoonie. Please."

"Anything you want, fuck. I'll give you anything, baby." His voice is choked as he trails his lips down your neck, feeling your cunt flutter around him in that oh-so-familiar way. "Gonna cum for me? Gonna cream all over this dick?" You only whimper in response, your teeth sinking softly into his shoulder. He feels himself spill inside you at the sensation, a deep groan from his soul as you cum right after. He doesn't stop working the two of you through it, his hips bordering the two of you into overstimulation as you claw at him.

He feels his skin sticky as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, your fingers now flat against the muscle of his back as you breathe in deeply. You shift slightly beneath him, before patting his shoulder. "I don't…I can't get up, I don't think. I can't feel my legs." You rasp, and he chuckles into your skin.

"Yeah, that's usually what's supposed to happen." He replies smugly, earning a sharp smack from your hand in the middle of his back. "Ouch! What the hell!" "I told you to stop making fun of me!" You huff, and he moves to look at you. "I'm not! Did I not just give you two mind blowing orgasms?"

"I wouldn't say mindblowing–" He rolls his eyes as he covers your mouth. "I made you cum, which was the goal. Was it not?" "No, the goal was to get over my ex." You say, muffled by the palm of his hand. He ponders a bit, before looking down at you intently. "Well, are you?" You feel your cheeks flush as you look away. "Maybe. Might need to go again, don't know. Not fully convinced." "Not fully convinced, she says." He removes his hand from your mouth as he teases you gently, and you roll your eyes. "Okay, fine. You're good, you got me." You admit tiredly, and he smiles.

"For how long?" "What?" You look up at him, and he shrugs. "How long do I have you?" You let your eyes scan his face as he looks down at you with curiosity in his eyes. You scoff, an amused tone to your voice. "You like me." "Obviously." He rolls his eyes, "Otherwise I wouldn't have offered." "You sly little minx. Luring me in here with the premise of getting me over my ex, knowing I'm on the rebound." You poke his chest, and he scoffs. "Clearly, you like me too. Or else you could've absolutely dodged my offer." "Or maybe I think you're hot and wouldn't mind seeing you outside of the cute little necklaces my sister makes you wear." You tease, and he shrugs. "I'll take what I can get. Either way, do you feel better? Less thoughts about that idiot, more good feelings?" You nod, sitting up on your elbows. "Let me take you to dinner, Hoon." He blinks at you, before glancing at the clock on his nightstand. "It's two in the morning, babe." "Not right now. Later. After you're done babysitting." You say, and he raises his brows. "Are you sure?" "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to." Your tone is pointed, and he scoffs. "You want me so fucking bad." "In your dreams. Get off me, I'm all sticky."

He does just that, and takes the most gentle care of you. He lets you lean against him in the shower, he shampoos your hair and steals kisses when you least expect it. He changes his sheets while you try to sit comfortably in his desk chair, complaining of sore hips and thighs as he smirks to himself. "So much for a rebound, huh?" He murmurs into your hair as you snuggle into his side, making you snort. "Go to sleep, Sunghoon. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, babe."

"Not your babe, Hoon."

"Not yet."

5K notes · View notes

youthisfree · 28 days ago

Text

i imagine katsuki struggles to say no to you. he can set a boundary with anyone and everyone. so why does he feel his boundaries start to fold when it comes to you? it's nothing horrible— just incredibly.. irritating.

he swears that everyone is delusional and that he can say no to you, but we all know better tsk tsk. this guy is all bark and no bite because he truly won't do anything about this problem. all katsuki does is huff and complain.

it's your turn to go on a store run for the dorm, declared by the majority of the class. caught up in some exhausting extra hero study work, it had completely slipped your mind.

this is how you end up at katsuki's dorm door, knocking persistently. it's past his bedtime, around 10 pm— past dorm curfew actually. of course he wouldn't answer at this time, but is that you at the door?

"pleaseee.." you knock a few more times, rather weakly now.

"the hell do you want?" the door is opened and a pajama-clad, sleepy katsuki comes to view.

"i want you to put a hoodie on and come with me to the store."

"w—"

"please?"

the two of you stand there for a moment in the dimly lit hallway, his hand gripping the door knob with a nasty glare on his face. you smile lightly, not able to take him seriously in such a lethargic state.

"..it's past curfew." he grumbles, trying to hold to any resolution he had.

"the quicker you say yes, the quicker we'll be back." you counter, not sure if you seem just as listless as him.

he glares for a moment longer.

"tch." katsuki, once again, folds. turning into his dorm and walking towards his closet to grab a hoodie as instructed, an obvious yet humorous frown on his face. he leaves the door open, a silent invite into his dorm.

you step in, closing the door softly behind you. he huffs as he looks for a random hoodie to throw on.

"you couldn't do this earlier?" he speaks up, no real bite behind his words. you huff in amusement because you know this is a start.

"busy with mirko." you explain concisely, making your way to lean against his desk.

"...'n you couldn't go with someone else why?" his hands grip on to a hoodie he's found, pulling it over once he gets his piece out.

"why would i want to go with anyone else?" you ask coyly— it's feigned, and he scoffs knowingly. you smile with a huff of your own, noting the faint red that began to show in his cheeks.

he looks away, searching for shoes to put on.

"we better not get caught." he speaks up again.

"that won't happen. we’re trained in stealth." you quip and he fails to suppress his smile at your remark.

"if we do, 'm never doin' anything for yer ass again. got it?" katsuki is quick to recover, finally meeting your gaze with eyes that held no real hostility.

"got it." you look at him with a grin and his lips curl into a scowl because he knows— you both know. he doesn't mean it. he never does.

"i hate you."

"thank you, grumpy boy."

#ugh i love him #cheeky x grumpy trope rise #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha #mha #black!reader #poc!reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki thoughts

2K notes · View notes

luveline · 7 months ago

Text

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧

Things between you and Peter change with the seasons. [17k]

c: friends-to-lovers, hurt/comfort, loneliness, peter parker isn’t good at hiding his alter ego, fluff, first kisses, mutual pining, loved-up epilogue, mention of self-harm with no graphic imagery

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

Fall

Peter Parker is a resting place for overworked eyes, like warm topaz nestled against a blue-cold city. He waits on you with his eyes to the screen of his phone, clicking the power button repetitively. A nervous tic.

You close the heavy door of your apartment building. His head stays still, yet he’s heard the sound of it settling, evidence in his calmed hand.

“Good morning!” You pull your coat on quickly. “Sorry.”

“Good morning,” he says, offering a sleep-logged smile. “Should we go?”

You follow Peter out of the cul-de-sac and into the street as he drops his phone into a deep pocket. To his credit, he doesn’t check it while you walk, and only glances at it when you’re taking your coat off in the heat of your favourite cafe: The Moroccan Mode glows around you, fog kissing the windows, condensation running down the inner lengths of it in beads. You murmur something to do with the odd fog and Peter tells you about water vapour. When it rains tonight, he says it’ll be warm water that falls.

He spreads his textbook, notebook, and rinky-dink laptop out across the table while you order drinks. Peter has the same thing every visit, a decaf americano, in a wide brim mug with the pink-petal saucer. You put it down on his textbook only because that’s where he would put it himself, and you both get to work.

As Peter helps you study, you note the simplicity of another normal day, and can’t help wondering what it is that’s missing. Something is, something Peter won’t tell you, the absence of a truth hanging over your heads. You ask him if he wants to get dinner and he says no, he’s busy. You ask him to see a movie on Friday night and he wishes he could.

Peter misses you. When he tells you, you believe him. “I wish I had more time,” he says.

“It’s fine,” you say, “you can’t help it.”

“We’ll do something next weekend,” he says. The lie slips out easily.

To Peter it isn’t a lie. In his head, he’ll find the time for you again, and you’ll be friends like you used to be.

You press the end of your pencil into your cheek, the dark roast, white paper and condensation like grey noise. This time last year, the air had been thick for days with fog you could cut. He took you on a trip to Manhattan, less than an hour from your red-brick neighbourhood, and you spent the day in a hotel pool throwing great cupfuls of water at each other. The fog was gone just fifteen miles away from home but the warm air stayed. When it rained it was sudden, strange, spit-warm splashes of it hammering the tops of your heads, your cheeks as you tipped your faces back to spy the dark clouds.

Peter had swam the short distance to you and held your shoulders. You remember feeling like your whole life was there, somewhere you’d never been before, the sharp edges of cracked pool tile just under your feet.

You peek over the top of your laptop screen and wonder if Peter ever thinks of that trip.

He feels you watching and meets your eyes. “I have to tell you something,” he says, smiling shyly.

“Sure.”

“I signed us up for that club.”

“Epigenetics?”

“Molecular medicine,” he says.

The nice thing about fog is that it gives a feeling of lateness. It’s still morning, barely ten, but it feels like the early evening. It’s gentle on the eyes, colouring the whole room with a sconced shine. You reach for Peter’s bag and sort through his jumble of possessions —stick deodorant, loose-leaf paper, a bodega’s worth of protein bars— and grab his camera.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m cataloguing the moment you ruined our lives,” you say, aiming the camera at his chin, squinting through the viewfinder.

“Technically, I signed us up a few days ago,” he says.

You snap his photo as his mouth closes around ‘ago’, keeping his half-laugh stuck on his lips. “Semantics,” you murmur. “And molecular medicine club, this has nothing to do with the estranged Gwen Stacy?”

“It has nothing to do with her. And you like molecular medicine.”

“I like oncology,” you correct, which is a sub-genre at best, “and I have enough work without joining another club. Go by yourself.”

“I can’t go without you,” he says. Simple as that.

He knew you’d say yes when he signed you up. It’s why he didn’t ask. You’re already forgiven him for the slight of assumption.

“When is it?” you ask, smiling.

—

Molecular medicine club is fun. You and a handful of ESU nerds gather around a big table in a private study room for a few hours and read about the newer discoveries and top research, like regenerative science and now taboo Oscorp research. It’s boring, sometimes, but then Peter will lean into your side and make a joke to keep you going.

He looks at Gwen Stacy a lot. Slender, pale and freckled, with blonde hair framing a sweet face. Only when he thinks you’re not looking. Only when she isn’t either.

—

“Good morning,” you say.

Peter holds an umbrella over his head that he’s quick to share with you, and together you walk with heads craned down, the umbrella angled forward to fight the wind. Your outermost shoulder is wet when you reach the café, your other warm from being pressed against him. You shake the umbrella off outside the door and step onto a cushy, amber doormat to dry your sneakers. Peter stalks ahead and order the drinks, eager to get warm, so you look for a table. Your usual is full of businessmen drinking flat whites with briefcases at their legs. They laugh. You try to picture Peter in a suit: you’re still laughing when he finds you in the booth at the back.

“Tell the joke,” he says, slamming his coffee down. He’s careful with yours. He’s given you the pink petal saucer from the side next to the straws and wooden stirrers.

“I was thinking about you as a businessman.”

“And that’s funny?”

“When was the last time you wore a suit?”

Peter shakes his head. Claims he doesn’t know. Later, you’ll remember his Uncle Ben’s funeral and feel queasy with guilt, but you don’t remember yet. “When was the last time you wore one?” he asks. “I don’t laugh at you.”

“You’re always laughing at me, Parker.”

The cafe isn’t as warm today. It’s wet, grimy water footsteps tracking across the terracotta tile, streaks of grey water especially heavy near the counter, around it to the bathroom. There’s no fog but a sad rattle of rain, not enough to make noise against the windows, but enough to watch as it falls in lazy rivulets down the lengths of them.

Your face is chapped with the cold, cheeks quickly come to heat as your fingers curl around your mug. They tingle with newfound warmth. When you raise your mug to your lips, your hand hardly shakes.

“You okay?” Peter asks.

“Fine. Are you gonna help me with the math today?”

“Don’t think so. Did you ask nicely?”

“I did.” You’d called him last night. You would’ve just as happily submitted your homework poorly solved with the grade to prove it —you don’t want Peter’s help, you just wanted to see him.

Looking at him now, you remember why his distance had felt a little easier. The rain tangles in his hair, damp strands curling across his forehead, his eyes dark and outfitted by darker eyelashes. Peter has the looks of someone you’ve seen before, a classical set to his nose and eyes reminiscent of that fallen angel weeping behind his arm, his russet hair in fiery disarray. There was an anger to Peter after Ben died that you didn’t recognise, until it was Peter, changed forever and for the worse and it didn’t matter —he was grieving, he was terrified, who were you to tell him to be nice again— until it started to get better. You see less of your fallen, angry angel, no harsh brush strokes, no tears.

His eyes are still dark. Bruised often underneath, like he’s up late. If he is, it isn’t to talk to you.

You spend an afternoon working through your equations, pretending to understand until Peter explains them to death. His earphones fall out of his pocket and he says, “Here, I’ll show you a song.”

He walks you home. The song is dreary and sad. The man who sings is good. Lover, You Should’ve Come Over. It feels like Peter’s trying to tell you something —he isn’t, but it feels like wishing he would.

“You okay?” you ask before you can get to your street. A minute away, less.

“I’m fine, why?”

You let the uncomfortable shape of his earbud fall out of your ear, the climax of the song a rattle on his chest. “You look tired, that’s all. Are you sleeping?”

“I have too much to do.”

You just don’t get it. “Make sure you’re eating properly. Okay?”

His smile squeezes your heart. Soft, the closest you’ll ever get. “You know May,” he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to give you a short hug, “she wouldn’t let me go hungry. Don’t worry about me.”

—

The dip into depression you take is predictable. You can’t help it. Peter being gone makes it worse.

You listen to love songs and take long walks through the city, even when it’s dark and you know it’s a bad idea. If anything bad happens Spider-Man could probably save me, you think. New York’s not-so-new vigilante keeps a close eye on things, especially the women. You can’t count how many times you’ve heard the same story. A man followed me home, saw me across the street, tried to get into my apartment, but Spider-Man saved me.

You’re not naive, you realise the danger of walking around without protection assuming some stranger in a mask will save you, but you need to get out of the house. It goes on for weeks.

You walk under streetlights and past stores with CCTV, but honestly you don’t really care. You’re not thinking. You feel sick and heavy and it’s fine, really, it’s okay, everything works out eventually. It’s not like it’s all because you miss Peter, it’s just a feeling. It’ll go away.

“You’re in deep thought,” a voice says, garnering a huge flinch from the depths of your stomach.

You turn around, turn back, and flinch again at the sight of a man a few paces ahead. Red shoulders and legs, black shining in a webbed lattice across his chest. “Oh,” you say, your heartbeat an uncomfortable plodding under your hand, “sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? I scared you.”

“I didn’t realise you were there.”

Spider-Man doesn’t come any closer. You take a few steps in his direction. You’ve never met before but you’d like to see him up close, and you aren’t scared. Not beyond the shock of his arrival.

“Can I walk you to where you’re going?” Spider-Man asks you. He’s humming energy, fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot.

“How do I know you’re the real Spider-Man?”

After all, there are high definition videos of his suit on the news sometimes. You wouldn’t want to find out someone was capable of making a replica in the worst way possible.

You can’t be sure, but you think he might be smiling behind the mask, his arms moving back as though impressed at your questioning. “What do you need me to do to prove it?” he asks.

He speaks hushed. Rough and deep. “I don’t know. What’s Spider-Man exclusive?”

“I can show you the webs?”

You pull your handbag further up your arm. “Okay, sure. Shoot something.”

Spider-Man aims his hand at the streetlight across the way and shoots it. He makes a severing motion with his wrist to stop from getting pulled along by it, letting the web fall like an alien tendril from the bulb. The light it produces dims slightly. A chill rides your spine.

“Can I walk you now?” he asks.

“You don’t have more important things to do?” If the bitterness you’re feeling creeps into your tone unbidden, he doesn’t react.

“Nothing more important than you.”

You laugh despite yourself. “I’m going to Trader Joe’s.”

“Yellowstone Boulevard?”

“That’s the one…”

You fall into step beside him, and, awkwardly, begin to walk again. It’s a short walk. Trader Joe’s will still be open for hours despite the dark sky, and you’re in no hurry. “My friend, he likes the rolled tortilla chips they do, the chilli ones.”

“And you’re going just for him?” Spider-Man asks.

“Not really. I mean, yeah, but I was already going on a walk.”

“Do you always walk around by yourself? It’s late. It’s dangerous, you know, a beautiful girl like you,” he says, descending into an odd mixture of seriousness and teasing. His voice jumps and swoons to match.

“I like walking,” you say.

Spider-Man walking is a weird thing to see. On the news, he’s running, swinging, or flying through the air untethered. You’re having trouble acquainting the media image of him with the quiet man you’re walking beside now.

”Is everything okay?” he asks. “You seem sad.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Maybe I am sad,” you confess, looking forward, the bright sign of Trader Joe’s already in view. It really is a short walk. “Do you ever–” You swallow against a surprising tightness in your throat and try again, “Do you ever feel like you’re alone?”

“I’m not alone,” he says carefully.

“Me neither, but sometimes I feel like I am.”

He laughs quietly. You bristle thinking you’re being made fun of, but the laugh tapers into a sad one. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in the world,” he says. “Even here. I forget that it’s not something I invented.”

“Well, I guess being a hero would feel really lonely. Who else do we have like you?” You smile sympathetically. “It must be hard.”

“Yeah.” His head tips to the side, and a crash of glass rings in the distance, crunching, and then there’s a squeal. It sounds like a car accident. Spider-Man goes tense. “I’ll come back,” he says.

“That’s okay, Spider-Man, I can get home by myself. Thank you for the protection detail.”

He sprints away. In half a second he’s up onto a short roof, then between buildings. It looks natural. It takes your breath away.

You buy Peter’s chips at Trader Joe’s and wait for a few minutes at the door, but Spider-Man doesn’t come back.

—

I don’t want to study today, Peter’s text says the next day. Come over and watch movies?

The last handholds of your fugue are washed away in the shower. You dab moisturiser onto your face and neck and stand by the open window to help it dry faster, taking in the light drizzle of rain, the smell of it filling your room and your lungs in cold gales. You dress in sweatpants and a hoodie, throw on your coat, and stuff the rolled tortilla chips into a backpack to ferry across the neighbourhood.

Peter still lives at home with his Aunt May. You’d been in awe of it when you were younger, Peter and his Aunt and Uncle, their home-cooked family dinners, nights spent on the roof trying to find constellations through light pollution, stretched out together while it was warm enough to soak in your small rebellion. Ben would call you both down eventually. When you’re older! he’d always promise.

Peter’s waiting in the open door for you. He ushers you inside excitedly, stripping you out of your coat and forgetting your wet shoes as he drags you to the kitchen. “Look what I got,” he says.

The Parker kitchen is a big, bright space with a chopping block island. The counters are crowded by pots, pans, spices, jams, coffee grounds, the impossible drying rack. There’s a cross-stitch about the home on the microwave Ben did to prove to May he could still see the holes in the aida.

You follow Peter to the stove where he points at a ceramic Dutch oven you’ve eaten from a hundred times. “There,” he says.

“Did you cook?” you ask.

“Of course I didn’t cook, even if the way you said that is offensive. I could cook. I’m an excellent chef.”

“The only thing May’s ever taught you is spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Hope you like marinara,” he says, nudging you toward the stove.

You take the lid off of the Dutch oven to unveil a huge cake. Dripping with frosting, only slightly squashed by the lid, obviously homemade. He’s dotted the top with swirls of frosting and deep red strawberries.

“It’s for you,” he says casually.

“It’s not my birthday.”

“I know. You like cake though, don’t you?”

You’d tell Peter you liked chunks of glass if that was what he unveiled. “Why’d you make me a cake?”

“I felt like you deserved a cake. You don’t want it?”

“No, I want it! I want the cake, let’s have cake, we can go to 91st and get some ice cream, it’ll be amazing.” You don’t bother trying to hide your beaming smile now, twisting on the spot to see him properly, your hands falling behind your back. “Thank you, Peter. It’s awesome. I had no idea you could even– that you’d even–” You press forward, smushing your face against his chest. “Wow.”

“Wow,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. He angles his head to nose at your temple. “You’re welcome. I would’ve made you a cake years ago if I knew it was gonna make you this happy.”

“It must’ve taken hours.”

“May helped.”

“That makes much more sense.”

“Don’t be insolent.” Peter squeezes you tightly. He doesn’t let go for a really long time.

He extracts the cake from the depths of the Dutch oven and cuts you both a slice. He already has ice cream, a Neapolitan box that he cuts into with a serrated knife so you can each have a slice of all three flavours. It’s good ice cream, fresh for what it is and melting in big drops of cream as he gets the couch ready.

“Sit down,” he says, shoving the plates with his strangely great balance onto the coffee table. “Remote’s by you. I’m gonna get drinks.”

You take your plate, carving into the cake with the end of a warped spoon, its handle stamped PETE and burnished in your grasp. The crumb is soft but dense in the best way. The ganache between layers is loose, cake wet with it, and the frosting is perfect, just messy. You take another satisfied bite. You’re halfway through your slice before Peter makes it back.

“I brought you something too, but it’s garbage compared to this,” you say through a mouthful, hand barely covering your mouth.

Peter laughs at you. “Yeah, well, say it, don’t spray it.”

“I guess I’ll keep it.”

“Keep it, bub, I don’t need anything from you.”

He doesn’t say it the way you’re expecting. “No,” you say, pleased when he sits knee to knee, “you can have it. S’just a bag of chips from Trader–”

“The rolled tortilla chips?” he asks. You nod, and his eyes light up. “You really are the best friend ever.”

“Better than Harry?”

“Harry’s rich,” Peter says, “so no. I’m kidding! Joking, come here, let me try some of that.”

“Eat your own.”

Peter plays a great host, letting you choose the movies, making lunch, ordering takeout in the evening and refusing to let you pay for it. This isn’t that out of character for Peter, but what shocks you is his complete unfiltered attention. He doesn’t check his phone, the tension you couldn’t name from these last few weeks nowhere to be felt. You’re flummoxed by the sudden change, but you missed him. You won’t look a gift horse in the mouth; you won’t question what it is that had Peter keeping you at arm’s length now it’s gone.

To your annoyance, you can’t stop thinking about Spider-Man. You keep opening your mouth to tell Peter you talked to him but biting your tongue. Why am I keeping it a secret? you wonder.

“Have something to tell you.”

“You do?” you ask, reluctant to sit properly, your feet tucked under his thigh and your body completely lax with the weight of the Parker throw.

“Is that surprising?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“No. Just. I’ve been not telling you something.”

“Okay, so tell me.”

Peter goes pink, and stiff, a fake smile plastered over his lips. “Me and Gwen, we’re really done.”

“I know, Pete. She broke up with you for reasons nobody felt I should be enlightened right after graduation.” Your stomach pangs painfully. “Unless you…”

“She’s going to England.”

“She is?”

“Oxford.”

You struggle to sit up. “That sucks, Peter. I’m sorry.”

“But?”

You find your words carefully. “You and Gwen really liked each other, but I think that–” You grow in confidence, meeting his eyes firmly. “That there’s always been some part of you that couldn’t actually commit to her. So. I don’t know, maybe some distance will give you clarity. And maybe it’ll break your heart, but at least then you’ll know how you really feel, and you can move forward.” You avoid telling him to move on.

“It wasn’t Gwen,” he says, which has a completely different meaning to the both of you.

“Obviously, she’s the smartest girl I’ve ever met. She’s beautiful. Of course it’s not her fault,” you say, teasing.

“Really, that you ever met?” Peter asks.

“She’s the best girl you were ever gonna land.“

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so.” After a few more minutes of quiet, he says, “I think we were done before. I just hadn’t figured it out yet. Something wasn’t right.”

“You were so back and forth. You’re not mean, there must’ve been something stopping you from going steady,” you agree. “You were breaking up every other week.”

“I know,” he whispers, tipping his head against the back couch.

“Which, it’s fine, you don’t–” You grimace. “I can’t talk today. Sorry. I just mean that it’s alright that you never made it work.” You worry that sounds plainly obvious and amend, “Doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re never a bad person, Peter.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You don’t need me to tell you.”

“It’s nice, though. I like when you tell me stuff. I want all of your secrets.”

You should say Good, because I have something unbelievable to tell you, and I should’ve said it the moment I got home.

Good, because last night I met the bravest man in New York City, and he walked me to the store for your chips.

Good, because I have so much I’m keeping to myself.

You ruffle his hair. Spider-Man goes unmentioned.

—

He visits with a whoop. You don’t flinch when he lands —you’d heard the strange whip and splat of his webs landing nearby.

“Spider-Man,” you say.

“What’s that about?”

“What?”

“The way you said that. You laughed.” Spider-Man stands in spandexed glory before you, mask in place. He’s got a brown stain up the side of his thigh that looks more like mud than blood, but it’s not as though each of his fights are bloodless. They’re infamously gory on occasion.

“Did you get hurt?” you ask. You’re worried. You could help him, if he needs it.

“Aw, this? That’s a scratch. That’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse from that stray cat living outside of 91st.”

You look at him sharply. 91st is shorthand for 91st Bodega, and it’s not like you and Peter made it up, but suddenly, the man in front of you is Peter. The way he says it, that unique rhythm.

Peter’s not so rough-voiced, you argue with yourself. Your Peter speaks in a higher register, dulcet often, only occasionally sarcastic. Spider-Man is rough, and cawing, and loud. Spider-Man acts as though the ground is a suggestion. Peter can’t jump off the second diving board at the pool. Spider-Man rolls his shoulders back in front of you with a confidence Peter rarely has.

“What?” he asks.

“Sorry. You just reminded me of someone.”

His voice falls deeper still. “Someone handsome, I hope.”

You take a small step around him, hoping it invites him to walk along while communicating how sorely you want to leave the subject behind. When he doesn’t follow, you add, “Yes, he’s handsome.”

“I knew it.”

“What do you look like under the mask?”

Spider-Man laughs boisterously. “I can’t just tell you that.”

“No? Do I have to earn it?”

“It’s not like that. I just don’t tell anyone, ever.”

“Nobody in the whole world?” you ask.

The rain is spitting. New York lately is cold cold cold, little in the way of sunshine and no end in sight. Perhaps that’s all November’s are destined to be. You and Spider-Man stick to the inside of the sidewalk. Occasionally, a passerby stares at him, or calls out in Hello, and Spider-Man waves but doesn’t part from you.

“Tell me something about you and I’ll tell you something about me,” Spider-Man says. “I’ll tell you who knows my identity.”

“What do you want to know about me?” you ask, surprised.

“A secret. That’s fair.”

“Hold on, how’s that fair?” You tighten your scarf against a bitter breeze. “What use do I have for the people who know who you are? That doesn’t bring me any closer to the truth.”

“It’s not about who knows, it’s about why I told them.” Spider-Man slips around you, forcing you to walk on the inside of the sidewalk as a car pulls past you all too quickly and sends a sheet of dirty rainwater up Spider-Man’s side. He shakes himself off. “Jerk!” he shouts after the car.

“My secrets aren’t worth anything.”

“I doubt that, but if that’s true, that makes it a fair trade, doesn’t it?”

He sounds peppy considering the pool of runoff collecting at his feet. You pick up your pace again and say, “Alright, useless secret for a useless secret.”

You think about all your secrets. Some are odd, some gross. Some might make the people around you think less of you, while others would surely paint you in a nice light. A topaz sort of technicolor. But they aren’t useless, then, so you move on.

“Oh, I know. I hate my major.” You grin at Spider-Man. “That’s a good one, right? No one else knows about that.”

“You do?” Spider-Man asks. His voice is familiar, then, for its sympathy.

“I like science, I just hate math. It’s harder than I thought it would be, and I need so much help it makes me hate the whole thing.”

Spider-Man doesn’t drag the knife. “Okay. Only three people know who I am under the mask. It was four, briefly.” He clears his throat. “I told one person because I was being selfish and the others out of necessity. I’m trying really hard not to tell anybody else.”

“How come?”

“It just hurts people.”

You linger in a gap of silence, not sure what to say. A handful of cars pass you on the road.

“Tell me another one,” he says.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, just tell me one.”

“How do I know you aren’t extorting me for something?” You grin as you say it, a hint of flirtation. “You’ll know my face and my secrets and even if you tell me a really gory juicy one, I have no one to tell and no name to pair it with.”

“I’m not showing you anything,” he warns, teasing, sounding so awfully like Peter that your heart trips again, an uneven capering that has you faltering in the street.

Peter’s shorter, you decide, sizing him up. His voice sounds similar and familiar but Peter doesn’t ask for secrets. He doesn’t have to. (Or, he didn’t have to, once upon a time.)

“Where are you going?” Spider-Man asks.

“Oh, nowhere.”

“Seriously, you’re out here walking again for no reason?”

“I like to walk. It’s not like it’s dark out yet.” You’re not far at all from Queensboro Hill here. Walking in any direction would lead you to a garden —Flushing Meadows, Kew Gardens, Kissena Park. “Walk me to Kissena?” you ask.

“Sure, for that secret.”

You laugh as Spider-Man takes the lead, keeping time with him, a natural match of pace. It’s exciting that Spider-Man of all people wants to know one of your useless secrets enough to ask you twice. The attention of it makes searching for one a matter of how fast you can find one rather than a question of why you’d want to. It slips out before you can think better of it.

“I burned my wrist a few days ago on a frying pan,” you confess, the phantom pain of the injury an itch. “It blistered and I cried when I did it, but I haven’t told anyone about it.”

“Why not?” he asks.

He shouldn’t use that tone with you, like he’s so so sorry. It makes you want to really tell him everything. How insecure you feel, how telling things feels like asking for someone to care, and half the time they don’t, and half the time you’re embarrassed.

You walk past the bakery that demarcates the beginning of Kissena Park grounds across the way. “I didn’t think about it at first. I’m used to keeping things to myself. And then I didn’t tell anyone for so long that mentioning it now wouldn’t make sense. Like, bringing it up when it’s a scar won’t do much.” It’s a weak lie. It comes out like a spigot to a drying up tree. Glugs, fat beads of sound and the pull to find another thing to say.

“It was only a few days ago, right? It must still hurt. People want to know that stuff.”

“Maybe I’ll tell someone tomorrow,” you say, though you won’t.

“Thanks for telling me.”

The humour in spilling a secret like that to a superhero stops you from feeling sorry for yourself. You hide your cold fingers in your coat, rubbing the stiff skin of your knuckles into the lining for friction-heat. The rain has let up, wind whipping empty but brisk against your cheeks. Your lips will be chapped when you get home, whenever that turns out to be.

“This is pretty far from Trader Joe’s,” he comments, like he’s read your mind.

“Just an hour.”

“Are you kidding? It’s an hour for me.”

“That’s not true, Spider-Man, I’ve seen those webs in action. I still remember watching you on the News that night, the cranes. I remember,” —you try to meet his eyes despite the mask— “my heart in my throat. Weren’t you scared?”

“Is that the secret you want?” he asks.

“I get to choose?”

Spider-Man throws his gaze around, his hand behind his head like he might play with his hair. You come to a natural stop across the street from Kissena Park’s playground. Teenagers crowd the soft-landing floor, smaller children playing on the wet rungs of the climbing frame.

“If you want to,” he says.

“Then yeah, I want to know if you were scared.”

“I didn’t haveI time to be scared. Connors was already there, you know?” He shifts from one foot to the other. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it before. I wasn’t scared of the height, if that’s what you mean. I already had practice by then, and I knew I had to do it. Like, I didn’t have a choice, so I just did it. I had to save the day, so I did.”

“When they lined up the cranes–”

“It felt like flying,” Spider-Man interrupts.

“Like flying.”

You picture the weightlessness, the adrenaline, the catch of your weight so high up and the pressure of being flung between the next point. The idea that you have to just do something, so you do.

“That’s a good secret.” You offer a grateful smile. “It doesn’t feel equal. I burned myself and you saved the city.”

“So tell me another one,” he says.

—

Maybe you started to fall for Peter after his Uncle Ben passed away. Not the days where you’d text him and he’d ignore you, or the days spent camping outside of his house waiting for him to get home. It wasn’t that you couldn’t like him, angry as he was; there’s always been something about his eyes when he’s upset that sticks around. You loathe to see him sad but he really is pretty, and when his eyelashes are wet and his mouth is turned down, formidable, it’s an ache. A Cabanel painting, dramatic and dark and other.

It was after. When he started sending Gwen weird smiles and showing up to the movies exhilarated, out of breath, unwilling to tell you where he’d been. Skating, he’d always say. Most of the time he didn’t have his skateboard.

You’d only seen them kiss once, his hand on her shoulder curling her in, a pang of heat. You were curdled by jealousy but it was more than that. Peter was tipping her head back, was kissing her soundly, a fierceness from him that made you sick to think about. You spent weeks afterwards up at night, tossing, turning, wishing he’d kiss you like that, just once, so you could feel how it felt to be completely wrapped up in another person.

You’d always held out for Peter, in a way. It was more important to you that he be your friend. You were young, and love had been a far off thing, and then one day you suddenly wanted it. You learned just how aching an unrequited love could be, like a bruise, where every time you saw Peter —whether it be alone or with Gwen, with anyone— it was like he knew exactly where to poke the bruise. Press the heel of his hand and push. The worst is when he found himself affectionate with you, a quick clasp of your cheek in his palm as he said goodbye. Nights spent in his twin bed, of course you’ll fit, of course you couldn’t go home, not this late, May won’t care if we keep the door open —the suggestion that the door being closed might’ve meant something. His sleeping arm furled around you.

Now you’re nearing the end of your second semester at ESU, Gwen is going to England at the end of the year, and Peter hasn’t tried to stop her, but he’s still busy.

“Whatever,“ you say, taking a deep breath. You’re not mad at Peter, you just miss him. Thinking about him all the time won’t change a thing. “It’s fine.”

“I’d hope so.”

You swing around. “Don’t do that!”

Spider-Man looks vaguely chastened, taking a step back. “I called out.”

“You did?”

“I did. Hey, miss, over there! The one who doesn’t know how to get a goddamn taxi!”

“I like to walk,” you say.

“Yeah, so you’ve said. Have you considered that all this walking is bad for you? It’s freezing out, Miss Bennett!”

“It’s not that bad.” You have your coat, a scarf, your thermal leggings underneath your jeans. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong with staying at home?”

“That’s not good for you. And you’re one to talk, Spider-Man, aren’t you out on the streets every night? You should take a day off.”

“I don’t do this every night.”

“Don’t you get tired?”

Spider-Man’s eyelets seem to squint, his mock-anger effusive as he crosses his arms across his chest. “No, of course not. Do I look like I get tired?”

“I don’t know. You’re in a full suit, I can’t tell. I guess you don’t… seem tired. You know, with all the backflips.”

“Want me to do one?”

“On command?” You laugh. “No, that’s okay. Save your strength, Spider-Man.”

“So where are you heading today?” he asks.

There’s a slip of skin peeking out against his neck. You’re surprised he can’t feel the cold there, stepping toward him to point. “I can see your stubble.”

He yanks his mask down. “Hasty getaway.”

“A getaway, undressed? Spider-Man, that’s not very gentlemanly.”

You start to walk toward the Cinemart. Spider-Man, to your strange pleasure, follows. He walks with considerable casualness down the sidewalk by your left, occasionally letting his head turn to chase a distant sound where it echoes from between high-rises and along the busy street. It’s cold and dark, but New York is hectic no matter what, even the residential areas. (Is there such a thing? The neighbourhoods burst with small businesses and backstreet sales, no matter the time.)

“Luckily for you, crime is slow tonight,” he says.

“Lucky me?” You wonder if your acquainted vigilante flirts with every girl he stalks. “You realise I’ve managed to get everywhere I’m going for the last two decades without help?”

“I assume there was more than a little help during that first decade.”

“That’s what you think. I was a super independent toddler.”

Spider-Man tips his head back and laughs, but that laugh is quickly squashed with a cough. “Sure you were.”

“Is there a reason you’re escorting me, Spider-Man?” you ask.

“No. I– I recognised you, I thought I’d say hi.”

“Hi, Spider-Man.”

“Hi.”

“Can I ask you something? Do you work?”

Spider-Man stammers again, “I– yeah. I work. Freelance, mostly.”

“I was wondering how you fit all the crime fighting into your life, is all. University is tough enough.” You let the wind bat your scarf off of your shoulder. “I couldn’t do what you do.”

“Yeah, you could.”

He sounds sure.

“How would you know?” you ask. “Maybe I’m awful when you’re not walking me around. I hate New York. I hate people.”

“No, you don’t. You’re not awful. Don’t ask me how I know, ‘cos I just know.”

You try not to look at him. If you look at him, you’re gonna smile at him like he hung the moon. “Well, tonight I’m going to be dreadfully selfish. My friend said he’d buy my movie ticket and take me out for dinner, a real dinner, the mac and cheese with imitation lobster at Benny’s. Have you tried that?”

Spider-Man takes a big step. “Tonight?” he asks.

“Yep, tonight. That’s where I’m going, the Cinemart.” You frown at his hand pressing into his stomach. “Are you okay? You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“I can hear– something. Someone’s crying. I gotta go, okay? Have fun at the movies, okay?” He throws his arm up, a silken web shooting from his wrist to the third floor of an apartment complex. “Bye!” he shouts, taking a running jump to the apartment, using his web as an anchor. He flings himself over the roof.

Woah, you think, warmth filling your cold cheeks, the tip of your nose. He’s lithe.

Peter arrives ten minutes late for the movie, which is half an hour later than you’d agreed to meet.

“Sorry!” he shouts, breathless as he grabs your hands. “God, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. You should beat me up. I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck happened?” you ask, not particularly angry, only relieved to see him with enough time to still catch the movie. “You’re sweating like crazy, your hair’s wet.”

“I ran all the way here, Jesus, do I smell bad? Don’t answer that. Fuck, do we have time?”

You usher Peter inside. He pays for the tickets with hands shaking and you attempt to wipe the sweat from his forehead with your sleeve. “You could’ve called me,” you say, content to let him grab you by the arm and race you to the screen doors, “we could’ve caught the next one. Why were you so late, anyways? Did you forget?”

“Forget about my favourite girl? How could I?” He elbows open the doors to let you enter first. “Now shh,” he whispers, “find the seats, don’t miss the trailers. You love them.”

“You love them–”

“I’ll get popcorn,” he promises, letting the door close between you.

You’re tempted to follow, fingers an inch from the handle.

You turn away and rush to find your seats. Hopefully, the popcorn line is ten blocks long, and he spends the night punished for his wrongdoing. My favourite girl. You laugh nervously into your hand.

—

Winter

Spider-Man finds you at least once a week for the next few weeks. He even brings you an umbrella one time, stars on the handle, asking you rather politely to go home. He offers to buy you a hot dog as you’re walking past the stand, takes you on a shortcut to the convenience store, and helps you get a piece of gum off of your shoe with a leaf and a scared scream. He’s friendly, and you’re getting used to his company.

One night, you’re almost home from Trader Joe’s, racing in the pouring rain when a familiar voice calls out, “Hey! Running girl! Wait a second!”

Him, you think, as ridiculous as it sounds. You don’t know his name, but Spider-Man’s a sunny surprise in a shitty, wet winter, and you turn to the sound with a grin.

He jogs toward you.

You feel the world pause, right in the centre of your throat. All the air gets sucked out of you.

“Hey, what are you doing out here? Did you get my texts?”

You blink as fat rain lands on your face.

“You okay?” Peter asks, Peter, in a navy hoodie turning black in the rain and a brown corduroy jacket. It’s sodden, hanging heavily around his shoulders. “Come on, let’s go,” —he takes your hand and pulls until you begin to speed walk beside him— “it’s freezing!”

“Peter–”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Peter, what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice an echo as he drags you into the foyer of your apartment building.

Rain hammers the door as he closes it, the windows, the foyer too dark to see properly.

“I wanted to see you. Is that allowed?”

“No.”

Peter takes your hand. You look down at it, and he looks down in tandem, and it is decidedly a non-platonic move. “No?” he asks, a hair’s width from murmuring.

“Shit, my groceries are soaked.”

“It’s all snacks, it’s fine,” he says, pulling you to the stairs.

You rush up the steps together to your floor. Peter takes your key when you offer it, your own fingers too stiff to manage it by yourself, and he holds the door open for you again to let you in.

Your apartment is a ragtag assortment to match the one next door, old wooden furniture wheeled from the street corners they were left on, thrifted homeward and heavy blankets everywhere you look. You almost slip getting out of your shoes. Peter steadies you with a firm hand. He shrugs out of his coat and hangs it on the hook, prying the damp hoodie over his head and exposing a solid length of back that trips your heart as you do the same.

“Sorry I didn’t ask,” Peter says.

“What, to come over? It’s fine. I like you being here, you know that.”

All your favourite days were spent here or at Peter’s house, in beds, on sofas, his hair tickling your neck as credits run down the TV and his breath evens to a light snore. You try to settle down with him, changing into dry clothes, his spare stuff left at the bottom of your wardrobe for his next inevitable impromptu visit. You turn on the TV, letting him gather you into his side with more familiarity than ever. Rain lays its fingertips on your window and draws lazy lines behind half-turned blinds. You rest on the arm and watch Peter watch the movie, answering his occasional, “You okay?” with a meagre nod.

“What’s wrong?” he asks eventually. “You’re so quiet.”

Your hand over your mouth, you part your marriage and pinky finger, marriage at the corner, pinky pressed to your bottom lip, the flesh chapped by a season of frigid winds and long walks. “‘M thinking,” you say.

“About?”

About the first night in your new apartment. You got the apartment a couple of weeks before the start of ESU. Not particularly close to the university but close to Peter, your best, nicest friend. You met in your second year of High School, before Peter got contacts, ‘cos he was good at taking photographs and you were in charge of the school newspapers media sourcing. You used to wait for Peter to show up ten minutes late like clockwork, every week. And every week he’d barge into the club room and say, “Fuck, I’m sorry, my last class is on the other side of the building,” until it turned into its own joke.

Three years later, you got your apartment, and Peter insisted you throw a housewarming party even if he was the only person invited.

“Fuck,” he’d said, ten minutes late, a cake in one hand and a whicker basket the other, “sorry. My last class is on–”

But he didn’t finish. You’d laughed so hard with relief at the reference that he never got the chance. Peter remembered your very first inside joke, because Peter wasn’t about to go off to ESU and meet new friends and forget you.

But Peter’s been distant for a while now, because Peter’s Spider-Man.

“Do you remember,” you say, not willing to share the whole truth, “when you joined the school newspaper to be the official photographer, and you taught me the rule of thirds?”

“So you didn’t need me,” he says.

“I was just thinking about it. We ran that newspaper like the Navy.”

Peter holds your gaze. “Is that really what you were thinking about?”

“Just funny,” you murmur, dropping your hand in your lap and breaking his stare. “So much has changed.”

“Not that much.”

“Not for me, no.”

Peter gets a look in his eyes you know well. He’s found a crack in you and he’s gonna smooth it over until you feel better. You’re expecting his soft tone, his loving smile, but you’re not expecting the way he pulls you in —you’d slipped away from him as the evening went on, but Peter erases every millimetre of space as he slides his arm under your lower back and ushers you into his side. You hold your breath as he hugs you, as he looks down at you. It’s really like he loves you, the line between platonic and romantic a blur. He’s never looked at you like this before.

“I don’t want you to change,” he whispers.

“I want to catch up with you,” you whisper back.

“Catch up with me? We’re in the exact same place, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

Peter hugs you closer, squishing your head down against his jaw as he rubs your shoulder. “Of course we are.”

Peter… What is he doing?

You let yourself relax against him.

“You do change,” he whispers, an utterance of sound to calm that awful bruise he gave you all those months ago, “you change every day, but you don’t need to try.”

“I just… feel like everyone around me is…” You shake your head. “Everyone’s so smart, and they know what they’re doing, or they’re– they’re special. I don’t know anything. So I guess lately I’ve been thinking about that, and then you–”

“What?”

You can say it out loud. You could.

“Peter, you’re…”

“I’m what?” he asks.

His fingers glide down the length of your arm and up again.

If you're wrong, he’ll laugh. And if you’re right, he might– might stop touching you. Your head feels so heavy, and his touch feels like it’s gonna put you to sleep.

He’s Spider-Man.

It makes sense. Who else could have a good enough heart to do that? Of course it’s Peter. It explains so much about him, about Peter and Spider-Man both. Why Peter is suddenly firmer, lighter on his feet, why he can help you move a wardrobe up two flights of stairs without complaint; why Spider-Man is so kind to you, why he knows where to find you, why he rolls his words around just like Pete.

Spider-Man said there are reasons he wears his mask. And Peter doesn’t tell you much, but you trust him.

You won’t make him say anything, you decide. Not now.

You curl your arm over his stomach hesitantly, smiling into his shirt as he hugs you tighter.

“I was thinking about you,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“You’re quieter lately. I know you’re having a hard time right now, okay? You don’t have to tell me. I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

“Yeah?” you ask.

“You used to sit on my porch when you knew May wouldn’t be home to make sure I wasn’t alone.” Peter’s breath is warm on your forehead. “I don’t know what you’re worried about being, but I’m with you,” he says, “‘n nothing is gonna change that.”

Peter isn’t as far away as you thought.

“Thank you,” you say.

He kisses your forehead softly. Your whole world goes amber. He brings his hand to your cheek, the thought of him tipping your head back sudden and heart-racing, but Peter only holds you. You lose count of how many minutes you spend cupped in his hand.

“Can I stay over tonight?” he utters, barely audible under the sound of the battering rain.

“Yeah, please.”

His thumb strokes your cheek.

—

Two switches flip at once, that night. Peter is suddenly as tactile as you’ve craved, and Spider-Man disappears.

He’s alive and well, as evidenced by Peter’s continued survival and presence in your life, but Spider-Man doesn’t drop in on your nightly walks.

You take less of them lately, feeling better in yourself. Your spirits are certainly lifted by Peter’s increasing affection, but now that you know he’s Spider-Man you were waiting to see him in spandex to mess with his head. Nothing mean, but you would’ve liked to pick at his secret identity, toy with him like you know he’d do to you. After all, he’s been trailing you for weeks and getting to know you. Peter already knows you. Plus, you told Spider-Man secrets not meant for Peter Parker’s ears.

You find it hard to be angry with him. A thread of it remains whenever you remember his deception, but mostly you worry about him. Peter’s out every night until who knows what hour fighting crime. There are guns. He could get shot, and he doesn’t seem scared. You end up watching videos on the internet of the night he ran to Oscorp, when he fought Connors’ and got that huge gash in his leg. His leg is soiled deep red with blood but banded in white webbing. He limps as he races across a rooftop, the recording shaky yet high definition.

It’s not nice to see Peter in pain. You cling to what he’d said, how he wasn’t scared, but not being scared doesn’t mean he wasn’t hurting.

You chew the tip of a finger and click on a different video. Your computer monitor bears heat, the tower whirring by your thigh. Your eyes burn, another hour sitting in the same seat, sick with worry. You don’t mind when Peter doesn’t answer your texts anymore. You didn’t mind so much before, just terrified of becoming an irrelevance in his life and lonely, too, maybe a little hurt, but never worried for his safety. Now when Peter doesn’t text you back you convince yourself that he’s been hurt, or that he’s swinging across New York City about to risk his life.

It’s not a good way to live. You can’t stop giving into it, is all.

In the next video, Spider-Man sits on a billboard with a can of coke in hand. He doesn’t lift his mask, seemingly aware of his watcher. You laugh as he angles his head down, suspicion in his tight shoulders. He relaxes when he sees whoever it is recording.

“Hey,” he says, “you all right?”

“Should you be up there?” the person recording shouts.

“I’m fine up here!”

“Are you really Spider-Man?”

“Sure am.”

“Are you single?”

Peter laughs like crazy. How you didn’t know it was him before is a mystery —it couldn’t sound more like him. “I’ve got my eye on someone!” he says, sounding younger for it, the character voice he enacts when he’s Spider-Man lost to a good mood.

Your phone rings in the back pocket of your jeans. You wriggle it out, nonplussed to find Peter himself on your screen. You click the green answer button.

“Hello?” Peter asks.

You bring the phone snug to your ear. “Hey, Peter.”

“Hi, are you busy?”

“Not really.”

“Do you wanna come over? I know it’s late. Come stay the night and tomorrow we’ll go out for breakfast.”

“Is Aunt May okay with that?”

“She’s staring at me right now shaking her head, but I’m in trouble for something. May, can she come over, is that allowed?”

“She’s always allowed as long as you keep the door open.”

You laugh under your breath at May’s begrudging answer. “Are you sure she’s alright with it?” you ask softly. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You never, ever could be. I’m coming to your place and we’ll walk over together. Did you eat dinner?”

“Not yet, but–”

“Okay, I’ll make you something when you get here. I’ll meet you at the door. Twenty minutes?”

“I have to shower first.”

“Twenty five?”

You choke on a laugh, a weird bubbly thing you’re not used to. Peter laughs on the other side of the phone. “How about I’ll see you at seven?”

“It’s a date,” he says.

“Mm, put it in your calendar, Parker.”

—

Peter waits for you at the door like he promised. He frowns at your still-wet face as he slips your backpack from your shoulder, throwing it over his own. “You’re gonna get sick.”

“I‘ll dry fast,” you say. “I took too long finding my pyjamas.”

“I have stuff you can wear. Probably have your sweatpants somewhere, the grey ones.” Peter pulls you forward and wipes your tacky face. “I would’ve waited,” he says.

“It’s fine.“

“It’s not fine. Are you cold?”

“Pete, it’s fine.”

“You always remind me of my Uncle Ben when you call me Pete,” he laughs, “super stern.”

“I’m not stern. Look, take me home, please, I’m cold.”

“You said it wasn’t cold!”

“It’s not, I’m just damp–” Peter cuts you off as he grabs you, sudden and tight, arms around you and rubbing the lengths of your back through your coat. “Handsy!”

“You like it,” he jokes back, his playful warming turning into a hug. You smile, hiding your face in his neck for a few moments.

“I don’t like it,” you lie.

“Okay, you don’t like it, and I’m sorry.” Peter gives you a last hug and pulls away. “Now let’s go. I gotta feed you before midnight.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Apparently, nothing is.”

Peter links your arms together. By the time you get to his house, you’ve fallen away from each other naturally. May is in the hallway when you climb through the door, an empty laundry basket in her hands.

“I see Peter hasn’t won this argument yet,” you say in way of greeting. Peter’s desperate to do his own laundry now he’s getting older. May won’t let him.

“No, he hasn’t.” She looks you up and down. “It’s nice to see you, honey. And in one piece! Peter tells me you’ve been walking a lot, and I mean, in this city? Can’t you buy a treadmill?” she asks.

“May!” Peter says, startled.

“I like walking, I like the air,” you say.

“Can’t exactly call it fresh,” May says.

“No, but it’s alright. It helps me think.”

“Is everything okay?” May asks, putting her hand on her hip.

“Of course.” You smile at her genuinely. “I think starting college was too much for me? It was hard. But things are settling now, I don’t know what Peter told you, but I’m not walking a lot anymore. You know, not more than necessary.”

She softens her disapproving. “Good, honey. That’s good. Peter’s gonna make you some dinner now, right?”

“Yeah, Aunt May, I’m gonna make dinner,” Peter sighs, pulling a leg up to take off his shoes.

Peter shouldn’t really know that you’ve been walking. He might see you coming back from Trader Joe’s or the bodega on his way to your apartment, but you haven’t mentioned any of your longer excursions, and everybody in Queens has to walk. That’s information he wouldn’t know without Spider-Man.

He seems to be hoping you won’t realise, changing the subject to the frankly killer grilled cheese and tomato soup that he’s about to make you, and pushing you into a chair at the table. “Warm up,” he says near the back of your head, forcing a wave of shivers down your arms.

He makes soup in one pan, grilled cheese in the other, two for him and two for you. Peter’s a good eater, and he encourages the same from you, setting a big bowl of tomato soup (from the can, splash of fresh cream) down in front of you with the grilled cheese on a plate between you. You eat it in too-hot bites and try not to get caught looking at him. He does the same, but when he catches you, or when you catch him, he holds your eye and smiles.

“I can do the dishes,” you say. You might need a breather.

“Are you kidding? I’m gonna rinse them, put them in the dishwasher.” Peter stands and feels your forehead with his hand. “Warmer. Good job.”

You shrug away from his hand. “Loser.”

“Concerned friend.”

“Handsy loser.”

”Shut up,” he mumbles.

As flustered as you’ve ever seen, Peter takes your empty dishes to the kitchen. When he’s done rinsing them off you follow him upstairs to his bedroom and tuck your backpack under his bed.

You look down at your socks. Peter’s room is on the smaller side, but it’s never been as startlingly small as it is when Peter’s socked feet align with yours, toe to toe. Quick recovery time, this boy.

“There’s chips and stuff on my desk. Or I could run to 91st for some ice cream sandwiches if you want something sweet,” he says.

You lift your eyes, tilt your head up just a touch, not wanting him to think you’re in his space no matter how strange that might be, considering he chose to stand there. “I’m all right. Did you want ice cream? We can go if you want to, but if you want to go ’cos you think I do then I’m fine.”

“That’s such a long answer,” he says, draping an arm over your shoulder. “You don’t have to say all of that, just tell me no.”

“I don’t want ice cream.”

“Wasn’t that easy?” he asks.

“Well, no, it wasn’t. Saying no to you is like saying no to a puppy.”

“Because I’m adorable?”

“Persistent.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He drapes the other arm over you. The soap he used at the kitchen sink lingers on his hands.

“Peter…?” you murmur.

“What?” he murmurs back.

You touch a knuckle to his chest. “This– You…” Every quelled thought rushes to the surface at once —Peter doesn’t like you as you desire, how could he, you aren’t beautiful like he is, aren’t smart, aren’t brave, no exceptional kindness or goodness to mark you enough for him. It’s why his being with Gwen didn’t hurt; she made sense. And for months now you’ve wondered what it is that made him struggle to be with her. And sometimes, foolishly, you wondered if it was you. But it’s not you, it’s never you, and whatever Peter’s trying to do now–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, taking your face into his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“What?” He pushes his hand back to hold your nape, thumb under your ear. “I can’t hear you.”

You raise your voice. “Why did you invite me over tonight?”

“‘Cos I missed you?”

“I used to think you didn’t miss me at all.”

Peter winces, hurt. “How could you think that? Of course I miss you. What you said to May, about college being hard? It’s like that for me too, okay? I miss you all the time.”

You bite the inside of your bottom lip. “…College isn’t hard for you.”

“It’s not easy.” He frowns, the fallen angel, his lips an unsure brushstroke. “What’s wrong? Did I say the wrong thing?”

You’re being wretched, you know, saying it isn’t hard for him. “You didn’t. Really, you didn’t.”

“But why are you upset?” he implores, dark eyes darker as his eyebrows tug together.

“I’m not–”

“You are. It’s okay, you can be upset. I just want you to feel better, you know that?” He settles his hands at the tops of your arms. Less intimate, but something warm remains. “Even if it takes a long time.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“How would you know?” you finally ask.

Peter stares at you.

“I know you,” he says carefully, “and I know you aren’t struggling like you were, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen or that you have to be a hundred percent better now.”

“I didn’t realise that I was,” you say, licking your lips, “‘til now. I didn’t get that it was on the surface.”

Peter pulls you in for a gentle hug. “I’m here for you forever, and I’ll make it up to you for not noticing sooner,” he says, scrunching your shirt in his hand.

After the hug, he tells you to change and make yourself comfortable while he showers. So you put on your pyjamas and climb into Peter’s bed, head pounding as though all your energy was stolen in a fell swoop. You press your nose to his pillow and arm wrapped around his comforter, gathering it into a Peter sized lump. The shower pump whines against the shared wall.

Things aren’t meant to be like this. You thought Peter touching you —holding you— was the deepest of your desires, but you feel now exactly as you had before he started blurring the line, needing Peter to kiss you so badly it becomes its own kind of nausea. Why are you still acting like it’s an impossibility?

When he comes back, you’ll apologise. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He does keep a secret, but don’t you keep one too? He’s Spider-Man. You’ve had deep, complicated feelings for him for months. They are secrets of equal magnitude, and are, more apparently, badly kept.

You wish you could fall asleep. Your heart ticks in agitation.

Peter returns as perturbed as earlier.

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” he asks, raking a hand through his hair. A towel hangs around his neck.

“I’m sorry for being weird.”

“You’re not weird,” Peter says, bringing the towel to his hair to scrub ruthlessly.

“It’s just ‘cos things have been different between us.” And, you try to say, that scares me no matter how bad I wanted it. because you’re not just Peter anymore, you’re Spider-Man. I’m only me, and I can’t do anything to protect you.

Peter gives his hair a long scrub before draping the towel on his desk chair. He rakes it messily into place and sits himself at the end of the bed. You sit up.

“Yeah, they have been. Good different?” he asks hesitantly.

“I think so,” you say, quiet again.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I don’t want to be here. I just worry about you.”

Peter uses his hands to get higher up the bed. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, “Jesus, please don’t. That’s the last thing I want from you, I hate when people worry about me.”

You curl into the lump of comforter you’d made. Peter lets himself rest beside you, his back to the bedroom wall, tens of Polaroids above him shining with the light of the hallway and his orange-bulbed lamp. His skin is glowing like it’s golden hour, dashes of topaz in his eyes, his Cupid’s bow deep. How would it feel to lean forward and kiss him? To catch his Cupid's bow under your lips?

You brush a damp curl tangled in another onto his forehead.

You lay there for a little while without talking, listening to the sound of the washing machine as it cycles downstairs.

“Am I going too fast?” Peter murmurs.

You press your lips together, shaking your head minutely.

“Is it something else?”

You don’t move.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

“No.”

Peter rewards you with a smile, his hand on your arm. “Alright. Let me get this blanket on you the right way. You’re still cold.”

You resent the loss of a shape to hold when Peter slips down beside you and wrangles the comforter flat again, spreading it out over you both, his hand under the blankets. His knuckles brush your thigh.

He takes a deep breath before turning and wrapping his arm over your stomach, asking softly, “Is this alright?”

“Yeah.”

He gives you a look and then lifts his head to slot his nose against your temple. “Please don’t take this in a way that I don’t mean it, but sometimes you think about things so much I worry you’re gonna get stuck in your head forever.”

“I like thinking.”

“I hate it,” he says quickly, a fervent, flirting cadence to his otherwise dulcet tone, “we should never do it ever again.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Would you? For me?”

You laugh into his shirt, feeling the warmth of your breath on your own nose. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good. I’d miss you too much if you got lost in that nice head of yours.”

You relax under his arm. You aren’t sure what all the fuss was about now that he's hugging you. “I’d miss you too.”

May comes up the stairs about an hour later. To her credit, she doesn’t flinch when she finds you and Peter smushed together watching a DVD on his old TV. He’s holding your arm, and you’re snoozing on his shoulder, half-aware of the world, fully aware of his nice smells and the shapes of his arms.

“Door open,” she says.

“Not that either of us want it closed, May, but we’re adults.”

“Not while I’m still washing your clothes, you’re not.”

He snorts. “Goodnight, Aunt May. The door isn’t gonna close, I promise.”

“I know that,” she says, scornful in her pride. “You’re a good boy.” She lightens. “Things are going okay?”

Peter covers your ear. “Goodnight, Aunt May.”

”I have half a mind to never listen to you again. You talk my ear off and I can’t ask a simple question?”

“I love you,” Peter sing-songs.

“I love you, Peter,” she says. “Don’t smother the girl.”

“I won’t smother her. It’s in my best interest that she survives the night. She’s buying my breakfast tomorrow.”

“Peter Parker.”

“I’m kidding,” he whispers, petting your cheek absentmindedly. “Just messing with you, May.”

You smile and curl further into his arms. His voice is like the sun, even when he whispers.

—

To your surprise, Spider-Man comes to find you after class one evening. A guest lecturer had talked to your oncology class about click chemistry and other molecular therapies against cancer, and the zine book she’d given you is burning a hole in your pocket. Peter is going to love it.

You pull it out and pause beside a bench and a silver trash can, the day grey but thankfully without rain. The pages of your little book whip forcefully in the wind. It’s chemistry, sure, but it’s biology too, wrapping your and Peter’s interests up neatly. If it weren’t for Peter you doubt you’d love science as much as you do. He’s always been good at it, but since you started college he's been a genius. Watching him grow has encouraged you to work harder, and understanding the material is satisfying, if draining. You take a photo of the middle most pages and tuck the book away, writing a quick text to Peter to send with it.

Look! it says, LEGO cancer treatment!!

The moment you press send a beep chimes from somewhere close behind you, all too familiar. You turn to the source but find nobody you know waiting. Coincidence, you think, shaking yourself and beginning the trek to the subway.

But then you hear the tell tale splat and thwick of Spider-Man’s webbing.

You wait until you’re at the alleyway between Porto’s Bakery and the key cutting shop and turn down to stop by one of the dumpsters.

“Spider-Man?” you ask, shoulders tensed in case it’s not who you think.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

You gasp as he hops down in front of you, his suit shiny with its dark web-pattern caught by the grey sunshine passing through the clouds overhead. “Shit, don’t break your ankles.”

“My ankles?” He laughs. He sounds so much like Peter that you can only laugh with him. What an idiot he is for thinking you don’t know; what a fool you’d been for falling for his put upon tenor. “They’re fine. What would be wrong with my ankles?”

“You just dropped down twenty feet!”

“It’s more like thirty, and I’m fine. You understand the super part of superhero, don’t you?”

“Who said you’re a superhero?”

“Nice. What are you doing down here?”

“I was testing my theory. You’re following me.”

“No, I’m visiting you, it’s very different,” he says confidently.

“You haven’t come to see me for weeks.”

“Yes, well, I–” Spider-Peter crosses his arms across his chest. “Hey, you’re the one who told me to take a day off.”

“I did tell you to take a day off. It’s not nice thinking about you trying to save the world every single night. That’s a lot of responsibility for one person to have.”

“But it’s my responsibility,” he says easily. “No point in a beautiful girl like you wasting her time worrying about it. I have to do it, and I don’t mind it.”

“Do you flirt with every girl you meet out here in the city?” you ask, cheeks hot.

“No,” he says, fondness evident even through the mask, “just you.”

“Do you wanna walk me home? I was gonna take the subway, but it’s not that far.”

Spider-Man nods. “Yeah, I’ll walk you back.”

He doesn’t hide that he knows the way very well. He takes preemptive turns, crosses roads without you telling him to go forward. You can’t believe him. Smartest guy at Midtown High and he can’t pretend to save his life.

“Are you having a good semester?” he asks.

“It’s getting better. I’m glad I stuck with it. I love biology, it’s so fucking hard. I used to think that was a bad thing, but it makes it cooler now. Like, it’s not something everyone understands.” You give him a look, and you give into temptation. “My best friend got me into all this stuff. I used to think math was hopeless and science was for dorks.”

“It’s definitely for dorks.”

“Right, but I love being one.” You offer a useless secret. “I like to think that it’s why we’re such great friends.”

“Me and you?” Spider-Man asks hoarsely.

“Me and Peter.” You elbow him without force. “Why, do you like science?”

“I love it…”

“You know, I really like you, Spider-Man. I feel like we’ve been friends for a long time.” You’re teasing poor Peter.

He doesn’t speak for a while. He stops walking, but you take a few steps without him. When you realise he’s stopped, you turn back to see him.

Peter’s gone so tense you could strike him with a flint and catch a spark. It’s the same way Peter looked at you when he told you about his Uncle, a truth he didn’t want to be true. Seeing it throws a spanner in the works of all your teasing: you’d meant to wind him up, not make him panic.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Can you hear something?”

“No, it’s not that…” He’s masked, but you know him well enough to understand why he’s stopped.

“It’s okay,” you say.

“It’s not, actually.”

“Spider-Man.” You take a step toward him. “It’s fine.”

He presses his hands to his stomach. The sun is setting early, and in an hour, the dark will eat up New York and leave it in a blistering cold. “Do you remember when we first met, the second time, we swapped secrets?”

“Yeah, I remember. Useless secret for another. I told you I hated my major. It��s not true anymore, obviously. I was having a bad time.”

“I know you were,” he says, emphasis on know, like it’s a different word entirely.

“But meeting you really helped. If it weren’t for you, for Peter,” —you give him a searching look— “I wouldn’t feel better at all.”

“It wasn’t his fault?” he asks. “He was your friend, and you were lonely.”

“No–”

“He didn’t know what was going on with you, he didn’t have a clue. You hurt yourself and you felt like you couldn’t tell anybody, and I know it wasn’t an accident, so what was his excuse?” His voice burns with anger. “It’s his fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t your fault. Is that what you think?” You shake your head, panicked by the bone-deep self loathing in his voice, his shameful dropped head. “Yes, I was lonely, I am lonely, I don’t know many people and I– I– I hurt myself, and it wasn’t as accidental as I thought it was, but why would that be your fault?”

“Peter’s fault,” he says, though his head is lifted now, and he doesn’t bother enthusing it with much gusto.

“Peter, none of it was your fault.” You cringe in your embarrassment, thinking Fuck, don’t let me ruin this. “I was in a weird way, and yes, I was lonely, and I really liked you more than I should have. You didn't want me and that wasn’t your fault, that’s just how it was, I tried not to let it get to me, just there were a lot of things weighing on me at once, but it really wasn’t as bad as you think it was and it wasn’t your fault.”

“I wasn’t there for you,” he says. “And I’ve been lying to you for a long time.”

“You couldn’t tell me, right? Spider-Man is your secret for a reason.”

“…I didn’t even know you were lonely until you told him. He was a stranger.”

You hold your hands behind your back. “Well, he was a familiar one.”

Peter reaches out as though wanting to touch you, but your arms aren’t in his reach. “It’s not because I didn’t want you.”

“Peter,” you say, squirming.

He steps back.

“I have to go,” he says.

“What?”

“I have to– I don’t want to go,” he says earnestly, “sweetheart, I can hear someone calling out, I have to go. But I’ll come back, I’ll– I’ll come back,” he promises.

And with a sudden lift of his arm, Peter pulls himself up the side of a building and disappears, leaving you whiplashed on the sidewalk, the sun setting just out of view.

—

You fall asleep that night waiting for Peter. When you wake up, 5AM, eyes aching, he isn’t there. You check your phone but he hasn’t texted. You check the Bugle and Spider-Man hasn’t been seen.

You aren’t sure what to think. He sounded sincere to the fullest extent when he said he’d come back, but he didn’t, not ten minutes later, not twenty. You made excuses and you went home before it got too dark to see the street, sat on the couch rehearsing what you’d say. How could Peter think your unhappiness was his fault? Why does he always put the entire world on his shoulders?

Selfishly, you worried what it all meant for his lazy touches. Would he want to curl up into bed with you again now he knows what it means to you? It’s different for him. It isn’t like he’s in love with you… you’d just thought maybe he could be. That this was falling in love, real love, not the unrequited ache you’d suffered before.

But maybe you got everything wrong. All of it. It wouldn't be the first time.

—

You and Peter found The Moroccan Mode in your senior year at Midtown. The school library was small and you were sick of being underfoot at home. When you started at ESU, you explored the on campus coffeehouse, the Coffee Bean, but it was crowded, and you’d found yourself attached to the Mode’s beautiful tiling, blues and topaz and platinum golds, its heavy, oiled wooden furniture, stained glass lampshades and the case full of lemony treats. The coffee here is better than anywhere else, but the best part out of everything is that it’s your secret. Barely anybody comes to the Mode on purpose.

You hide in a far corner with a book and an empty cup of decaf coffee, a slice of meskouta on the table untouched. Decaf because caffeine felt a terrible idea, meskouta untouched because you can’t stomach the smell. You push it to the opposite end of the table, considering another cup of coffee instead. It’s served slightly too hot, and will still be warm when it gets to your chest.

The sunshine is creeping in slowly. It feels like the first time you’ve seen it in months, warming rays kissing your fingers and lining the walls. You turn a page, turn your wrist, let the sun warm the scar you gave yourself those few months ago, when everything felt too big for you.

Looking back, it was too big. Maybe soon you’ll be ready to talk about it.

The author in your book is talking about bees. They can fly up to 15 miles per hour. They make short, fast motions from front to back, a rocking motion. Asian giant hornets can go even faster despite their increased mass. They consider humans running provocation. If you see a giant hornet, you’re supposed to lay down to avoid being stung.

You put your face in your hand. Next year, you’ll avoid the insect-based electives.

Across the cafe, the bell at the top of the door rings. Laughter falls through it, a couple passing by. The register clashes open. A minute later it closes.

You don’t raise your head when footsteps draw near. A plate is placed on the table, pushed across to you, stopping just shy of your coffee.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Peter asks quietly.

His voice is gentle, but hoarse.

You tense.

“Are you okay?” he asks, not waiting for your answer to either question. “You don’t look like yourself. Your eyes are red.”

You lift your head. Wet with the beginnings of tears, you see Peter through an astigmatic blur.

“What are you reading?” He frowns at you. “Please don’t cry.”

You shake your head. Your smile is all odd, nothing like his, no inherent warmth despite your best effort. “I’m okay.”

He nudges you across the booth seat and sits beside you. His arm settles behind your shoulders. He smells like smoke and soap, an acrid scent barely hidden. “Can you tell me you didn’t wait long for me?”

“Ten minutes,” you lie.

“Okay. I’m sorry. There was a fire.” He rubs your arm where he’s holding you. “I’m sorry.”

“Will you go half?” you ask, nodding to the sandwich he’s brought you. It’s tough sourdough bread, brown with white flour on the crusts and leafy greens poking between the slices. You and Peter complain about the price. You’ve never had one. He passes you the bigger half, holding the other in his hand without eating.

“I know you’re hungry,” you say, tapping his elbow, “just eat.”

You eat your sandwiches. Now that Peter’s here, you don’t feel so sick —he’s not upset with you. The dull pang of an empty stomach won’t be ignored.

Peter puts his sandwich down, which is crazy, and wipes his fingers on the plates napkin. You’ve never seen him stop before he’s done.

“It was in the apartments on Vernon. I– I think I almost died, the smoke was everywhere.”

You choke around a crust, thrusting the rest of your half onto the plate. “Are you hurt?” you ask, coughing.

He moves his head from side to side, not a shake, but a slow no. “How long have you known it was me?” he asks, curling his hand behind your back again, fingers spread over your shoulder blade, a fingertip on your neck.

You savour his touch, but you give in to your apprehension and stare at his chest. “The night you caught me outside in the rain in November. You called me ‘running girl’. The way you said it, you sounded exactly like him. I turned around expecting,” —you whisper, weary of the quiet cafe— “Spider-Man, and I realised it’s him that sounds like you. That he is you.”

“Was that disappointing?”

“Peter, you’re, like, my favourite person in the world,” you whisper fervently, your smile making it light. You laugh. “Why would that be disappointing?”

“I thought maybe you think he’s cooler than me.”

“He is cooler than you, Peter.” You laugh again, pleased when he scoffs and draws you nearer. “I guess you’re the same person, right? So he’s just as cool as you are. But why would being cool matter to me? You know I like you.”

“You flirted pretty heavily with Spider-Man.”

“Well, he flirted with me first.”

You chance a look at his face. From that moment you can’t look away, not from Peter. You like when he wears that darkness in his eyes, the hint of his rarer side so uncommonly seen, but you love this most of all, Peter like your best memory, the way he’s looking at you now a picture perfect copy of that moment in a swimming pool in Manhattan with cracked tile under your feet. His arms heavy on your shoulders. You didn’t get it then, but you’re starting to understand now.

“I’ve made a mess of everything,” he says softly, the trail his hand makes to the small of your back leaving a wake of goosebumps. “I haven’t been honest with you.”

“I haven’t, either.”

“I want to ask you for something,” Peter says, a fingertip trailing back up. He smiles when you shiver, not teasing, just loving. “You can say no.”

“You’re hard to say no to.”

“I need you to talk to me more,” —and here he goes, Peter Parker, flirting and sweet-talking like his life depends on it, his face inching down into your space— “not just because I love your voice, or because you think so much I’m scared you’ll get lost, but I need you to talk to me. We need to talk about real things.”

We do, you think morosely.

“It’s not your fault,” he adds, the hand that isn’t holding your back coming up to cup your cheek, “it’s mine. I was scared of telling you for stupid reasons, but I shouldn’t have let it be a secret for so long.”

“No, I doubt they’re stupid,” you murmur, following his hand as he attempts to move it to your ear. “It’s not easy to tell someone you’re a hero.”

His palm smells like smoke.

“That’s not the secret I meant,” he says.

You take his hand from your face. Peter looks down and begins pressing his fingers between yours, squeezing them together as his thumb runs over the back of your hand.

“So tell me.”

The sunshine bleeds onto his cheek. Dappled orange light turning slowly white as time stretches and the sun moves up through a murky sky. “You want to trade secrets again?” he asks.

“Please.”

“Okay. Okay, but I don’t have as many as you do,” he warns.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I don’t. It’s not a real secret, is it? I’ve been trying to show you for weeks, we…”

He tilts his head invitingly.

All those hand-holds and nights curled up in bed together. Am I going too fast? You know exactly what he means; it really isn’t a secret.

“I’ll go first,” he says, lowering his face to yours. You try not to close your eyes. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks.” He closes his eyes so you follow, your breath not your own suddenly. You hold it. Let it go hastily. “What’s your secret?”

“Sometime I want you to kiss me so badly I can’t sleep. It makes me feel sick–”

“Sick?” he asks worriedly.

You touch the tip of your nose to his. “It’s like– like jealousy, but…”

“You have no one to be jealous of,” he says surely. He cups your cheek, and he asks, “Please, can I kiss you?”

You say, “Yes,” very, very quietly, but he hears it, and his smile couldn’t be more obvious as he closes the last of the distance between you to kiss you.

It isn’t the sort of kiss that kept you up at night. Peter doesn’t hook you in or tip your head back, he kisses gently, his hand coming to live on your cheek, where it cradles. It’s so warm you don’t know what to make of him beyond kissing him back —kissing his smile, though it’s catching. Kissing the line of his Cupid’s bow as he leans down.

“I’m sorry about everything,” he mumbles, nose flattened against yours.

You feel sunlight on your cheek. Squinting, you turn into his hand to peer outside at the sudden abundance of it. It’s still cold outside, but the Mode is warm, Peter’s hand warmer, and the sunshine is a welcome guest.

Peter drops his hand. “Oh, wow. December sun. Good thing it didn’t snow, we’d be blind.”

“I can’t be cold much longer,” you confess. “I’m sick of the shitty weather.”

“I can keep you warm.”

He smiles at you. His eyelashes tangle in the corners of his eyes, long and brown.

“Did you want my meskouta?” you ask.

Peter plants a fat kiss against your brow.

You let the sunshine warm your face. Two unfinished sandwich halves, a mouthful of coffee, and a round slice of meskouta, its flaky crumb and lemon drizzle shining on the table. You would ask Peter for his camera if you’d thought he brought it with him, to take a picture of your breakfast and the carved table underneath. You could turn it on Peter, say something cheesy. This is the moment you ruined our lives, you’d tease.

“You never told me you met Spider-Man, you know.”

You watch Peter lick the tip of his finger without shame. ��They could make a novella of things I haven’t told you about,” you murmur wryly.

Peter takes a bite of meskouta, reaching for your knee under the table. He shakes your leg a little, as if to say, Well, we’ll work on that.

—

Spring

“Sorry!”

“No, it’s–”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m– shit!”

“–okay! All legs inside the ride?”

“I couldn’t find my purse–”

“You don’t need it!” Peter leans over the console to kiss your cheek. “You don’t have to rush.”

“Are you sure you can drive this thing?”

“Harry doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t mean the car, I mean, are you sure you can drive?”

“That’s not funny.”

You grin and dart across to kiss his cheek, too. “Nothing ever is with us.”

Peter grabs you behind the neck —which might sound rough, if he were capable of such a thing— and pulls you forward for a kiss you don’t have time for. “If we don’t check in,” —you begin, swiftly smothered by another press of his lips, his tongue a heat flirting with the seam of your lips— “by three, they said they won’t keep the room–” He clasps the back of your neck and smiles when your breath stutters. You squeeze your eyes closed, kiss him fiercely, and pull away, hand on his chest to restrain him. “And then we’ll have to drive home like losers.”

Peter sits back in the driver's seat unbothered. He fixes his hair, and he wipes his bottom lip with his knuckle. You’re rolling your eyes when he finally returns your gaze. “Sorry, am I the one who lost her purse?”

“Peter!”

“I can’t make us un-late,” he says, turning the key slowly, hands on the wheel but his eyes still flitting between your eyes and your lips.

“Alright,” you warn.

He reaches for your knee. “It’s a forty minute drive. You’re panicking over nothing.”

“It’s an hour.”

Your drive from Queens to Manhattan is entirely uneventful. You keep Peter’s hand hostage on your knee, your palm atop it, the other hand wrapped around his wrist, your conversation a juxtaposition, almost lackadaisical. Peter doesn’t question your clinging nor your lazy murmurings, rubbing a circle into your knee with his thumb from Forest Hill to Lenox Hill. There’s so much to do around Manhattan; you could visit MoMA, Central Park, The Empire State Building or Times Square, but you and Peter give it all a miss for the little known Manhattan Super 8.

It’s been a long time since you and Peter first visited. You took the bus out to Lenox Hill for a med-student tour neither of you particularly enjoyed, feeling out future careers. It’s not that Lenox Hill isn’t one of the most impressive medical facilities in New York (if not the northeastern USA), it’s that all the blood made him queasy, and you were panicking too much about the future to think it through. He got over his aversion to blood but chose the less hands-on science in the end, and you worked things through. You’re a little less scared of the future everyday.

You and Peter were supposed to get the bus straight back home for a sleepover, but one got cancelled, another delayed, and night closed in like two hands on your neck. Peter sensed your fear and emptied his wallet for a night in the Super 8.

The next morning it was beautifully sunny. The first day of summer that year, warm and golden. The pool wasn’t anything special but it was invitingly cool, blue and white tiles patterned like fish below; you clambered into the water in shorts and a tank top and Peter his boxers before a worker could see and stop you.

It was one of the best days of your life. When you told Peter about it last week, he’d looked at you peculiarly, said, Bub, you’re cute, and let you waste the afternoon recounting one of your more embarrassing pangs of longing. A few days later he told you to clear your calendar for the weekend, only spilling the beans on what he’d done when you’d curled over his lap, a hand threaded into the hair at the nape of his neck, murmuring, Tell me, tell me, tell me.

He’d hung his head over you and scrunched up his eyes. Cheater.

The best thing about having a boyfriend is that he always wants to listen to you. Peter was a good listener as a best friend, but now he has his act together and the secrets between you are never anything more than eating the last of the milk duds or not wanting to pee in front of him, he’s a treasure. There’s no feeling like having Peter pull you into his lap so he can ask about your day with his face buried in your neck, sniffing. Sometimes, when you text one another to meet up the next day, you’ll accidentally will the hours away babbling about school and life and things without reason. Peter has a list on his phone of your silliest tangents; blood oranges to the super moon, fries dipped in ice cream to the world record for kick flips done in five minutes. It’s like when you talk to one another, you can’t stop.

There are quiet moments. You wake up some mornings to find him awake already, an arm behind you, rubbing at your soft upper arm, fingertip displacing the fine hairs there and trailing circles as he reads. He bends the pages back and holds whatever novel he’s reading at the bottom of his stomach, as though making sure you can see the words clearly, even when you’re sleeping.

There are hectic, aching moments —vigilante boyfriends become blasé with their lives and precious faces. You’ve teetered on the edge of anxiety attacks trying to pick glass from his cheek with a tweezers, lamented over bruises that heal the next day. It’s easier when Peter’s careful, but Spider-Man isn’t careful. You ask him to take care of himself and he’s gentle with himself for a few days, but then someone needs saving from an armed burglar or a car swerves dangerously onto the sidewalk and he forgets.

He hadn’t patrolled last night in preparation for today.

“Did you know,” he says, pulling Harry’s borrowed car into a parking spot just in front of the Super 8 reception, “that today’s the last day of spring?”

“Already?”

“Tonight’s the June equinox.”

“Who told you that?”

“Aunt May. She said it’s time to get a summer job.”

You laugh loudly. “Our federal loans won’t last forever.”

“Harry’s gonna get me something, I think. Do you want to work with me? It could be fun.”

You nod emphatically. It’s barely a thought. “Obviously I want to. Does Oscorp pay well, do you think?”

Peter lets the engine go. The car turns off, engine ticking its last breath in the dash. “Better than the Bugle.”

You get your key from the reception and find your room upstairs, second floor. It’s not dirty nor exceptionally clean, no mould or damp but a strange smell in the bathroom. There’s a microwave with two mugs and a few sachets of instant coffee. Peter deems it the nicest motel he’s ever stayed in, laughing, crossing the room to its only window and pulling aside the curtain.

“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his arm around you as you join him, “that’s what dreams are made of.”

The blue and white tiled pool. It hasn’t changed.

It’s about as hot as it’s going to get in June today, and, not knowing if it’ll rain tomorrow, you and Peter change into your swim suits and gather your towels. You wear flip flops and tangle your fingers, clanking and thumping down the rickety metal stairs to the pool. There’s nobody there, no lifeguard, no quests, and the pool is clean and cold when you dip your toes.

Peter eases in first. Towels in a heap at the end of a sun lounger, his shirt tumbling to the floor, Peter splashes in frontward and turns to face you as the water laps his ribs. “It’s cold,” he says, wading for your legs, which he hugs.

“I can feel it,” you say, the cool waters to your calves where you sit on the edge.

“You won’t come in and warm me up?” he asks.

You stroke a tendril of hair from his eyes. He attempts to kiss your fingers.

“I’m trying to prepare myself.”

“Mm, you have to get used to it.” He puts wet hands on your thighs, looking up imploringly until you lean down for a kiss. The fact that he’d want one still makes you dizzy. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’ll have to move.”

Peter steps back, a ripple of water ringing behind him, his hands raised. He slips them with ease under your arms and helps you down into the water, laughing at your shocked giggling —he’s so strong, the water so cold.

Peter doesn’t often show his strength. Never to intimidate, he prefers startling you helpfully. He’ll lift you when you want to reach something too tall, or raise the bed when you’re on his side to force you sideways.

“Oh, this is the perfect place to try the lift!” he says.

“How will I run?” you ask, letting your knees buckle, water rushing up to your neck.

Peter pulls you up. He touches you easily, and yet you get the sense that he’s precious with you, too. There’s devotion to be found in his hands and the specific way they cradle your back, drawing your chest to his. “I don’t need you to do a running start, sweetheart,” he says, tilting his head to the side, “I’ll just lift you.”

“Last time I laughed so much you dropped me.”

“Exactly, you laughed, and this is serious.”

The world isn’t mild here. Car horns beep and tyres crunch asphalt. You can hear children, and singing, and a walkie talkie somewhere in the Super 8’s parking lot. The pool pumps gargle and Peter’s breath is half laughter as he pulls you further from the sidelines, ceramic tiles slippery under your feet. In the distance, you swear you can hear one of those songs he likes from that poor singer who died in the Wolf River.

He’s a beholden thing in the sun; you can’t not look at him, all of him, his sculpted chest wet and glinting in the sun, his eyes like browning honey, his smile curling up, and up.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

You rest an arm behind his head. “The rash guard is a good look?”

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t look cuter,” he says, hands on your waist, pinky on your hip. “I wish you’d mentioned these shorts a few days ago. I would’ve prepared to be a more decent man.”

“You’re decent enough, Parker.”

“Maybe now.”

“Well, if things get too hot, you can always take a quick dip,” you say.

You’re teasing, but Peter’s eyes light up with mischief as he calls, “Oh, great idea!” and lets himself drop backwards into the water. You pull your arm back rather than go with him. You can’t avoid the great burst of water as he surges to the surface.

He shakes himself off like a dog.

“Pete!” you cry through laughs, wiping the water from your face before the chlorine gets in your eyes.

“It just didn’t help,” he says, pulling you back into his arms, “you know, the water is cold, but you’re so hot, and I actually got a pretty good look at them when I was under, and you’re just as pretty as I remembered you being ten seconds ago–”

“Peter,” you say, tempted to roll your eyes.

Water runs down his face in great rivers, but with the dopey smile he’s sporting, they look like anything but tears. “Tell me a secret?” he asks, dripping in sunshine, an endless summer at his back.

A soft smile takes your lips. “No,” you say, tipping up your chin, “you tell me one first.”

“What kind of secret?”

“A real one,” you insist.

“Oh…” He leans away from you, though his arms stay crossed behind you. “Okay, I have one. Ask me again.”

You raise a single brow. “Tell me a secret, Peter.”

He pulls your face in for a kiss. His hand is wet on your cheek, but no less welcome. “I love you,” he says, kissing the skin just shy of your nose.

You’re lucky he’s already holding you. “I love you too,” you say, gathering him to you for a hug, digging your nose into the slope of his neck as his admission blows your mind. “I love you.”

Peter wraps his arms around your shoulders, closing his eyes against the side of your head. You can’t know what he’s thinking, but you can feel it. His hands can’t seem to stay still on your skin.

The sun warms your back for a time.

Peter lets out a deep breath of relief. You lean away to look at him, your hand slipping down into the water, where he finds it, his fingers circling your wrist.

“That’s another one to let go of,” he suggests.

He peppers a row of gentle kisses along your lips and the soft skin below your eye.

You and Peter swim until your fingers are pruned and the sun has been blanketed by clouds. You let him wrap you in a towel, and kiss your wet ears, and take you back to the room, where he holds your face.

“I’ll start the shower for you,” he says, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, each stroke of them encouraging your face from one side to the other, just a touch, ever so slightly moved in the palms of his hands.

“Don’t fall asleep standing up,” he murmurs.

Your eyes close unbidden to you both. “I won’t.”

He holds you still, leaning in slowly to kiss you with the barest of pressure. Every thought in your head fades, leaving only you and Peter, and the dizziness of his touch as he lays you down at the end of the bed.

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

please like, comment or reblog if you enjoyed, i love comments and seeing what anyone reading liked about the fic is a treat —thank you for reading❤︎

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bizarrelovetriangel · 4 days ago

Text

company.

they're busy with something so you decided to give them some company, along with a little motivation to finish faster.

mdni. 18+ only. cockwarming. that's it that's the plot.

- sylus -

He has a new fancy toy that he'd won from an auction, and now you have a rival that you must fight for his attention. At the moment, you're absolutely not winning.

Sylus is polishing a gun while admiring every aspect of it, his eyes practically twinkling with excitement.

You're starting to get impatient and maybe just a little jealous. After all, he promised you that you'd watch a movie together once he's done.

It wouldn't hurt to give him some... encouragement to hurry up, right?

and so, you sat on his lap.

"What are you doing?"

Sylus questions you despite doing absolutely nothing to stop you from taking a seat on his thighs. In fact, he welcomed you by opening his arms wider just so you could have more space to be more comfortable.

"Nothing, just wanna watch you assemble~"

He took note of your tone and immediately grew suspicious. "What are you scheming, kitten?"

"Nothing, I said." you grabbed his chin and gently nudged his face so that his gaze returns to the disassembled gun on the desk in front of him. "Don't let me distract you. Just pretend I'm not here."

He narrowed his eyes at you for a second before continuing his work, humming a song and bopping his head while doing so.

You smiled as you listened to him, beaming his reflection on the shiny silver gun.

You leaned forward closer to the surface of the desk so that you could get a better look at the details of the weapon that he's so infatuated with.

You shifted your weight a little to the left so you could study the complex engravings at a better angle.

After moving around to observe the other angles, you realized that it's most likely part of a vintage collection. Its charm is indeed worth all the money that Sylus casually spent it on.

"...Enjoying yourself, sweetie?"

For a moment, you'd forgotten why you were there in the first place. It wasn't until you heard a grunt from behind you that you were reminded of your little evil plan.

"I am, actually."

As you replied, you subtly pressed down your ass against his crotch, earning a sharp breath out of him.

Sylus paused on polishing his weapon.

"What's wrong?" you asked, feigning innocence. "You still have a lot of parts to polish. Hurry up already."

"If you need something from me, don't hesitate to ask." he tells you in a low voice, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I'd gladly give you want you want."

"No no, it's fine. You should finish what you started. You said you want to use it tomorrow, right?" you waved a hand dismissively. "I want to watch you polish and assemble this. Like I said, just pretend I'm not here."

Sylus shook his head, already catching on to your grand plan.

But he's absolutely not complaining.

You sitting on his lap while he fiddles with his new weapon? It's certainly not the worst thing in the world. He doesn't mind multitasking.

Taking advantage of your gracious offer, Sylus proceeds with his work.

You continued to grind against him, doing your best to be subtle.

It wasn't long until your seat becomes uncomfortable due to a stiffened bulge in his pants.

His warm, ragged breath hits your neck as he takes a moment to collect himself, hands slightly wavering as he puts down his tools before reaching for you.

One hand settled on your stomach while the other caressed your right thigh. As you leaned back against his chest, you were surpised as he captured your lips with his.

Your right hand went up to his jaw to keep him in place as you kissed him back with twice the force, inviting him to meet your tongue.

He groans inside your mouth as your ass once again brushed against his clothed cock, twitching and demanding for your attention — so you give him what he wants.

You unzip his pants and stroke him through his boxers, emitting a moan out of his parted lips. Sylus pulled away from you and rested his forehead against your own, briefly brushing his nose against yours.

"Should we take this somewhere else?"

His eyes caught the grin that appeared on your face and he just knew no good would come out of your pretty mouth.

"But you still have to finish fixing your gun. Just....keep going..." you pressed a soft kiss underneath his jaw. "I'll...keep you company."

Sylus knew exactly what you meant when your hand tightly wrapped around his cock, now leaking with desire for you.

As if in a trance, he watched you pull down your shorts up to your knees and moved your panty aside before brushing his cock against your folds.

His hold on your thigh had become tighter as soon as you fully took him inside you once you sat back down on his lap. Sylus closed his eyes and lightly nipped your shoulder to suppress a groan out of pleasure.

Even though this feels like some sort of punishment, he'll be lying if he says he's not enjoying it. As long as it's you, he'll gladly do anything you want and take anything that you offer.

Returning your grin, Sylus redirected his focus on his weapon. If he wants to move in the bedroom and properly take you, he has to work faster.

But it was a lot more difficult than he realized.

Sylus can't help but thrust into you as he became desperate for friction.

You're squeezing him so tightly.

He needed to move so badly.

"Sweetie...." beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and neck. "Are you sure you're comfortable here? Wouldn't you want to move somewhere else?"

"I'm fine."

Of course you aren't fine.

You're just as impatient as him, and it's taking all of your energy to appear nonchalant just like he is. You've become so wet that you're oozing out even with his cock in you.

But you really did want him to finish polishing his gun now so that you can have the rest of his time.

"Just hurry up already."

Sylus almost laughed at how whiny yet demanding you sounded just now. He would've teased you if only he wasn't just as needy.

All he could do was nod and rush his work, while simultaneously making sure the quality of his weapon is sufficient.

After polishing every piece, Sylus expertly put everything together. He might've slowed down once or twice as you'd clench his cock and his vision would blur as he'd lose his focus, but he managed to power through until the end.

And once you finally made it to his bedroom, Sylus' patience ran out as soon as the door was shut and locked.

He gently nudges you against the door and kisses you deeply while his hands caresses your body. He unbuttons and unzips his pants before pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his reddened cock that's even bigger and harder now than before.

You eagerly got rid of your shorts and underwear. Before you could remove your shirt, Sylus latched back into you, spreading your legs and wrapping your thighs around his hips before thrusting back and forth.

Noticing the loud noises that the door would make as he pounds into you, he took a few steps back from it before bouncing you up and down his cock.

You cry out with pleasure, throwing your head back as he hits the deepest part of you, over and over again, making your insides clench and pulsate.

He lightly sinks his teeth into the nape of your neck as he reaches his climax, with heavy cum spilling out of you and staining the floor.

Your own release followed a few seconds later, soaking his thighs as he brings you over to his bed. He positions himself between your legs, aligning his mouth in the middle of your thighs.

"Since you were so thoughtful in giving me company while I worked...." he pauses to playfully flick your forehead. "I'm yours for the rest of the night."

- zayne -

Poor Docctor Zayne is stuck in his home office, finishing up a report for his latest research project.

You also have a report to do for the Association, so you decided to join him just so he could have company. After all, you haven't seen each other for two days now.

"Zayne, I got you some snacks."

As you arrived, you set some food and drink on a separate table specifically used for snack breaks.

Zayne's eyes lights up as soon as you walked in. He grabbed your hand and pulled you down so that he could give you a kiss on the lips.

"Is it okay if I join you here? I also have work to do." Being around Zayne might motivate you to finish faster, or at least procrastinate less than you usually do.

"Of course."

It's not the first time you worked with him in his office, so there's an extra chair just for you to use; however, Zayne realized just now how far away it is from him.

It's placed behind his other desk that he rarely uses, perpendicular from the one he's currently using.

Not even five minutes after you started typing, Zayne called out your name.

"Why are you sitting so far away? Scared I'll look at your screen? I promise I won't copy from you."

You laughed and scooted your chair next to his. "I don't mind letting you copy from me, Doctor Zayne."

Soon, the two of you fell in a comfortable silence except for the sounds of your fingers clicking against the keyboard, as well as the pages of Zayne's books being turned occasionally.

Sometimes, you'd mumble something as you're typing, and Zayne would smile in amusement, fond of the way you're fully immersed in your work.

After a decent amount of time has passed, you cheer as you concluded your report. "All I have to do is edit it for the final draft!" you got up to stretch and stopped in front of Zayne. "What about you? Still have a lot to do?"

"I'm almost done as well. Just reviewing a reference before I get to my last page."

Zayne pauses from his work as he noticed how close you are.

He rested his hands on your waist, urging you to face him. "Why don't you move a little closer?"

"Huh? But my chair's already right next to yours—"

He then gently nudged you forward and adjusted your legs so that you're sitting on his lap and facing the computer.

"Let's just stay like this for a while."

You softened as Zayne embraced you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He took your laptop and placed it right next to his so that you two can continue your work.

You suppressed a smile, realizing that he wants cuddles.

You'll never deny cuddles from him.

"Okay!"

About halfway through editing your report, you realizes that there was something hard growing behind you.

"Zayne..."

You look over your shoulder and spotted his flushed expression, with his red ears being the biggest giveaway.

"...sorry, I was just — "

He couldn't help himself.

Having you so close...

His mind started to wander not long after you sat on him. Images of the last time you were on his thighs flashed through his head, and his body reacted immediately.

"No need to apologize."

You run a hand down from his chest and down to his crotch. Zayne closed his eyes and sighs softly as you palm him through his pants.

Then, your hands come to a halt and he gives you a concerned, questioning look.

"You still need to finish your work."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You're right. Can't get distracted..."

You grinned at the disappointment that briefly flashed through his eyes. "I'll just... make you feel good while you work, so stay focused, okay?"

"Wha — nggnnh!" Zayne's reply gets cut off by his own moan as you grind your ass against his cock. His chest pressed against your back and his hands darted to your thighs, encouraging you to keep going.

His fingers made their way to the zipper of your pants, silently asking for your permission. In return, you held his hand and assisted him in pulling your zipper down and undoing the button right above it.

You lifted your hips so that he could pull your pants down before unzipping his own pants to free his cock from his boxers.

Kissing his lips, you moved his hands back on the desk before slowly sinking down on him, his cock nestled deep inside you.

Zayne groans at the tightness that enveloped him. His forehead rests on your back while he takes a second to steady his breath.

"Zayne..." you moved his hands towards his keyboard. "Keep working, you're almost done~"

He narrowed his eyes at your sly grin. "You..."

You only patted his cheeks in response before putting your attention to your own laptop to continue editing your work.

You heard a defeated sigh before Zayne continued with his research paper.

You made sure to move your hips every once in a while, drawing out moans and sharp breaths out of him. You enjoyed the way his hands would freeze every time you grind yourself against his cock, which would then twitch in response.

Only after a few minutes, Zayne's typing increased speed. You're impressed with the way he never mispelled a single word.

His focus intensified by a tenfold.

Not once did his hips move.

Not until he was fully done with the report.

Only after he closed his laptop did he touch you.

He stood up and put you down on he desk after moving everything aside.

"Now that I've finished my work early, don't you think I deserve a reward?" he asked, running a hand from your knee to your thigh.

You smiled and pulled him closer, clutching the collars of his shirt. "Of course. Anything you want."

"In that case..."

His mouth devours yours and he parted your legs wider before standing between them. He stroke his cock a few times, spreading his pre-cum on the rest of his length before aligning his tip with your core.

Before pushing himself in you, Zayne rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit, causing you to mewl against his tongue.

Zayne didn't waste much time after gently easing into you. His hips began to move back and forth while his hands grips your waist, making sure your body doesn't get pushed back from how hard he was thrusting.

Your hands are pressing down on his shoulders, eyes on his chest that you exposed after partly unbuttoning his shirt.

You fixed his the glasses that threatened to fall from his face before his lips dove to your neck to leave a trail of hot, wet kisses on your skin.

His pace picks up by the minute as he grows desperate for release. Sweat drips from his forehead and neck as his movement loses control. You were gasping for air as he thrusted harder, knocking down a few trinkets on his desk.

Zayne suddenly pulls out right before ropes of cum splashes you in the chest. His hand rubs his sensitive cock as he continues to empty himself out, hips stuttering while he grunts loudly, unable to hold himself back, especially when your own climax came not too long after.

As the two of you took a moment to catch your breath, Zayne took your hands and gave your knuckles a soft kiss.

"That was... quite a special way to encourage me to finish my work faster, although I can't say it wasn't effective. I'll make sure to remember your technique so I can do the same to you next time."

"...what did you say?!"

Zayne smiled and pecked your forehead. "Shall we go take a shower before dinner?"

- caleb -

Usually, he'd drop whatever he's doing and give you his undivided attention — but not today. In his living room, Caleb is assembling a complex model for a newly designed plane.

It's not like you had any plans in particular, so you didn't mind. You're quite intrigued with the way he's so focused on putting the figure together.

The tiny pieces give satisfying clicks as Caleb attaches them together, all while his eyes are narrowed and brows are furrowed. You always love at his concentration face.

Though, you've broken his concentration for a second as he briefly paused to face you. "Bored, Pip-squeak?"

"Not really. I like watching you build your little plane."

Caleb laughs as he's reminded of the past. You always did have a habit of observing him whenever he's building something, whether it be legos or school projects.

"Why don't you come over here and help me with it? Once we're finished, we can go to the park and have that basketball shooting challenge that you insist we have. Then, we can go eat after. Deal?"

You grinned and sat next to him, kneeling down on the floor and facing the center table. "Deal."

"Not there."

Caleb wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you right on his lap.

"Here is better."

The way his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered caused your face to heat up but you kept your gaze on the figure.

"Wait, you've been doing this with no instructions?!" you looked around the table and saw that there's a folded paper still inside the box that the pieces of this figure came from.

"Oh, I forgot about the instructions." Caleb uses his evol to summon the paper and place it in front of you. "That would make this waaay easier. Good idea, Pip-squeak."

"Hmph. Assembling this thing without instructions.... what a show-off."

Caleb chuckles. "I'm used to building plane models, that's all. Even though this one has a different design, the base is still pretty much the same."

"Show-off."

You moved your hips a little so that you could be more comfortable as you start to lock in for the project.

You're not a genius like Caleb, but at the very least, you can assemble pieces of a spaceship. It's just like playing with legos, but for adults. How hard could it be?

Three minutes later...

"This looks just like that other piece!"

"That one goes to the left wing. It's three millimeters smaller than the other one, which goes on here instead."

Caleb leans forward, chest pressing against your back so that he could help you with the pieces that you were getting confused with.

"Tch. Show-off."

Five minutes later, you're getting the hang of it. Of course, you're following every step of the instructions, while Caleb continued to assemble without it.

Although, just now, his hands suddenly froze just as he picked up a piece for the plane's tail.

At last, you caught him struggling.

"Heh. Does the genius need instructions now?"

You smirked as you looked over your shoulder, only to see his face flush and forehead slightly sweating. His lips are parted apart, taking quiet deep breaths, and his eyes have darkened as his pupils dilate.

"Caleb? Are you — "

"Ngggnnhh... don't... move..."

"What? Why?"

Twitch.

You got a respond not from his mouth, but from another part of his body down below, right where you're sitting.

"Oh."

Caleb embraces you and buries his face against your neck while he slowly moves his hip upwards, desperate for friction.

You grind back to him and reached a hand back to feel his hardened cock through his sweatpants. He lets out a quiet whine and slides his fingers to your thighs, sneaking up your soft skirt.

As he whispers your name, Caleb's finger toys with the fabric of your panty that's covering your core, making your insides clench with arousal.

You kissed him softly while he pulls down your underwear, hiding it in his pocket rather than letting it fall to the carpet.

You then take a moment to tug on the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers. Caleb lifts up his hips so you could remove them, though he gave you a questioning glance when he noticed that you didn't fully get rid of them.

"Caleb..."

You slowly caressed his face and gave him another kiss before taking his cock and sinking down on him.

Moaning against your lips, he didn't waste a second before thrusting up, sliding in and out of you while holding onto your hips.

"Wa — ah, wait, Caleb..."

He stops immediately. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no not at all". you gave him a reassuring smile, which soon turned into a grin that had him gulping nervously. "I was just gonna say... we should finish assembling your plane first."

"What...?" he looks at you with disbelief. "But..." his cock twitched once again, reminding you of his current state. "You..... are doing this on purpose...." he spoke slowly, breath hitching as he tries to restrain himself from rutting into you. "Teasing me like this...."

"I don't know what you mean. I just want you to finish your super cool model."

He detected the playfulness in your tone. "Just wait till I'm done..." he warns in a deep tone before his hand goes back to the separate pieces of the model.

He grunts under his breath as he feels you clenching on his cock, which was growing while buried in you.

"You're not... making this easy... at all..."

He's using up all his strength to not move, meanwhile you're torturing him by shifting ever so slightly once every few minutes.

You bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a grin as you watch Caleb mess up a few times, mind clearly frazzled.

"You can do it~" you cheered with encouragement, wrapping one arm around his neck.

Caleb lets out a shaky exhale as you once again rock against his thighs. "I thought you were supposed to be helping me so we could finish faster, Pip-squeak?"

"I'll let you take over and do the easier stuff. I'm... busy."

He lets out a noise that was a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff, something that you hear often whenever you're teasing him.

Caleb continues to mess up a few more times as he hurriedly puts the pieces of the plane model together.

But once he puts the final piece, he lets out a sigh of relief. "Done."

You patted his head. "Good boy."

Not a second later after your praise, you felt his cock twitch again.

Caleb re-adjusted your figure and urged you to turn around and face him, all while remaining on his lap.

"So, do I get my reward now?"

"And what does my genius pilot want as a reward?"

He wrapped his arms around your back and held you close. The bridge of his nose brush against yours as his lips hovered on your own. "Just you."

You closed the distance between your mouths and let your tongue collide with his while your hips began to move in circles.

"Ah — slow down.... I'm gonna — "

Caleb ended up coming quicker than usual, shooting all of his cum inside you.

He was already close to exploding just having you sit on his cock, so as soon as you started to move, his body couldn't take it.

But he's not done with you yet.

Caleb carried you over to the couch and got on top of you before getting rid of the rest of his clothes. He stroke himself while gazing at you, cock stiffening again.

Without giving himself much time to recover, he entered you and pounded hard. His hands slipped inside your shirt to pull it up and remove it off you, then he unclasped your bra and slid it to the floor before putting your left breast in hie mouth.

His tongue flicks against your nipple before giving the same attention to your right breast, groaning against your mounds as a wave of ecstasy struck him, causing him to pick up his pace in going in and out of you.

Your body arches as the tip of his cock hits the deepest part of you. Hissing with pleasure, your hips stutter and your legs tightened around his hips right before reaching your climax.

Caleb didn't dare to slow down.

He's close.

So close.

Just a little more...

You shut your eyes and gasped for air, feeling as if you're drowning as he hammers into you. As your cunt tightened even more, Caleb pulls out and his orgasm splatters all over your stomach, crying out with pleasure.

Caleb's face drops down to your chest and listens to your fast beating heart as the two of you catch your breaths. His body relaxes on top of yours, and you enjoy the feeling of his weight pressing down on you.

Your left hand brushes through his hair on the back of his head.

"Wait, are we still gonna play basketball?"

Caleb laughs at your sudden question. "As long as you don't use any.....unfair techniques again.... then yes, I still plan to beat you in basketball. Need to remind you that I'm still the best Forward."

"Heh. Show-off."

- rafayel -

Rafayel pouts as he's forced to finish a painting that he promised Thomas would be done over the weekend.

It's not that he dislikes the painting, it's more so that Rafayel prefers to take his time, as he loves taking breaks in between work. This time, however, he realized that there's not much room for breaks if he wants to finish by the deadline.

Luckily, he has his beloved to keep him company and make the work more tolerable.

It doesn't matter what you're doing. Rafayel is just happy that you're there with him.

Whenever you ramble about random things, he listens and asks for more details.

Every time you sing a song while cleaning around his space, he enthusiastically sings along with you while tapping his toes.

When you watch him work, he tells you all about what he's doing; why he chose those specific colors, and why his brush moved in a certain way.

Just now, you're arriving from work with snacks to share, knowing that he most likely hasn't eaten lunch yet. You managed to convince him to take just a few minutes off so he could eat properly — or else, he'll pass out and his painting would absolutely not be done on time, you told him.

Once he's finished eating, you walked him back to his working station before announcing that you'll be gone for a bit to wash the dishes.

You took no further than a single step before arms wrapped around your waist and you're embraced from behind, with Rafayel nuzzling his face on your lower back.

"The dishes will be fine on their own for now. Me, on the other hand... I might need to be supervised. Or else...."

"Or else what?"

"Or else..... I'll be kidnapped by seagulls."

You laughed at his excuse, failing to resist cupping his face. "That's true, they would want to steal a lonely delicious fishie in distress. I better stick around and keep them away."

Rafayel beams and pulls you onto the stool chair with him.

"Wha — Rafayel! This chair's not big enough for both of us!"

"I know, cutie."

Rafayel sat you right on his lap.

"Much better."

"You won't be able to paint properly like this!"

"Oh yeah?" Rafayel grins and twirls the paintbrush he held between the fingers of his right hand. "Challenge accepted! I'll give you a masterpiece! Just you wait!"

You were getting ready to let out the most dramatic and obnoxious laugh as soon as you see him looking silly and struggling to move, but you never got your chance.

Somehow, he still managed to look elegant while painting with you in his way. One hand working, and the other is resting on your left knee.

He truly is a man of many talents.

Since you're there, you might as well enjoy the show. You always find it satisfying and relaxing to watch Rafayel work.

Every graceful stroke of his brush and the way colors smoothly blend together on his canvas is something that you could watch for hours.

You were so entranced that you ended up in a daze not a few minutes later.

You only snapped out of it when you heard a moan from behind you.

Before you could turn your head, Rafayel's hand on your knee moved up to your thigh and his grip on his paintbrush tightened.

"You're not....distracting me on purpose, are you?" his warm breath tickled your neck as his lips brushed against your ear.

You were confused for a second, then he stirred his hips and that's when you felt how hard he is.

"Rafayel..."

You raised a hand to caress his red, warm face and traced his soft lips before giving him a lingering kiss.

He sighs with content against your mouth as he leaned in for more, eyes closed as he cherishes the taste of your lips.

Then, you suddenly pulled back and he looks at you with a pout.

"I wasn't trying to distract you before but now I really am distracting you. You have to keep working if you want to finish on time, Raf."

He groans and rests his forehead on your shoulder. "I knew it. You hate me."

You laughed and squished his cheeks. "Not at all. It's the opposite." one of your hands went to his chest and slid down to his stomach, then to the button of his pants. "I'll stay here and keep you company while you work, okay?"

His breath hitches as you start to unbutton and unzip his pants. "Okay."

You pulled your pants down and moved your panty aside before sliding his cock into you. You let out a gasp as it slipped in so easy, due to his already soaked tip.

Rafayel grunts as his cock settles into your pussy. His body burned with the need to move. His left hand was enveloped with yours, resting on the side of the stool. You then took his right hand, which was still gripping the paintbrush, and held it up to his unfinished painting.

"Keep working."

Rafayel gulps before moving the brush.

Just after a handful of strokes, his cock stirs inside you and a low groan escapes from his mouth.

"I need you. Can I — "

"You have to finish this first. Then, you can move as much as you want, how fast you want."

He throbs at your words.

With his body ignited, Rafayel finds the energy to continue working at a faster rate.

Despite being on the verge of losing control, his hand movements remained steady. Although, he can't help but pause once every while, as you'd clench around his cock and send him farther on edge.

You lost track of time for how long you two were in that position, but Rafayel didn't finish the painting until the sun had gone down and it's dark outside.

The waves outside of his house crashed loudly, and the cold breeze has breached the room, though you could barely notice it as your body is being warmed by Rafayel's.

"It's beautiful!" you exclaimed, admiring his mostly finished artwork.

He said it still needs some final touches, which has to be done tomorrow once everything dries up, but for today, his work is finished.

"Now that you're done, do you wanna eat din— "

Rafayel suddenly stands up but kept an arm around you so that you two don't separate.

Your feet touched the floor and Rafayel slightly bends you over, with one hand on the small of your back and the other on your hips.

"I was promised something once I was done working. Don't you remember, my beloved?" he whispers against your ear before pressing his lips on your cheek. "You offered me yourself."

Your insides tingled at his tone, your core burning up with excitement.

"I can move how much I want, and how fast I want." he repeated your own words back to you. "I'll be taking my gift now."

Rafayel pulls out of you, only to come back in slowly, inch by inch until all of his length is in you. He repeats a few more times before gradually picking up his pace and strength, while his hands hold your hips to keep you steady.

He echoes your erratic gasps of pleasure, sweat glistening on his skin as his body rocks against yours. The sound of his hips snapping against your flesh gets lost in the waves that grew stronger and louder as they reach the shoreline.

You cry out his name as you feel yourself nearing your climax. His chest touches your back and his left arm supports your stomach before going even harder.

Soon, your knees buckle and your hips stutter before coming as he was still fucking you. Rafayel groans as he continues to push himself into you over and over, finding it difficult to slow down.

Then, he explodes inside of you.

And still, he continues to pound you.

The two of you hiss as your sensitive bodies reaches their limits, yet neither are pulling away.

Rafayel didn't stop until the two of you came for the second time. Only then, did he pull out of you.

But still, he wasn't finished.

Rafayel sat you down on the stool chair, then he got on his knees and parted your legs.

"How kind of you to bring me my dinner, my beloved~"

- xavier -

Xavier was in the middle of playing a videogame when you entered his apartment, though his eyes are halfway from closing and the controller on his hands are on the verge of slipping to the floor.

You snuck up towards him so you could give him a jumpscare.

"Boo — whaaa!!"

Without even glancing your way, he suddenly raised his arms and captured you in between them, without even letting go of the controller.

"Hi, doll."

"I wasn't even making any noise and you were half-awake. How did you know?" you sigh, falling limp with your stomach onto his lap.

"You can call it an extra sense."

"Pfft. Okay, Spider Man — oops, I mean Lumiere — "

You were forced to stop talking as Xavier bends down to cover your mouth with his while playfully nipping your bottom lip.

"No Spider Man or Lumiere, just your Xavier."

You were left dazed and speechless from the kiss, so you only stared at his pretty face that wore a half-smile that was proud of the reaction he got out of you.

Xavier casually resumes on playing his videogame, acting as if he didn't die at least seven times just now while he was distracted.

You shifted slightly as you remained lying down on his lap, finding him just as comfortable as his bean-bag chair, where your propped elbows are resting as you lean on your right hand to watch the screen.

Using you like a pillow, he rested his wrists on your ass while his fingers continue to fiddle with the controller.

You didn't mind it at all and shifted even more so that you could be even more comfortable.

As Xavier advances to upper, more difficult levels of the game, he becomes more focused and you become fully immersed in watching him fight enemies.

You didn't even realize until after a while that Xavier is moving an awful lot while just playing a game.

He seems to be squirming under you.

"Xavier... are you good?"

"Mhmm... 'm fine..."

That sounded like a moan just now.

You narrowed your eyes as you turned your head to face him. Sure enough, his face is flushed. You're more than familiar with that look.

Before you could ask any further questions, you felt a stir beneath your hips.

"Heh."

You pushed yourself up and sat on his lap properly with your thighs on the sides of his hips while facing him. Then, you put your hands on his shoulders and leaned forward.

"You could've just asked me to move for you." you grinded your hips against his crotch, making sure to brush against his hard-on.

Xavier lets out a shaky breath before dropping the controller on the floor and putting his hands on your hips, urging you to keep moving.

You swayed your hips until his cock was straining against his pajama pants, until his tip was leaking from desire.

And then, you stopped.

"What — what's wrong?" Xavier looks at you worriedly, eyes still half-lided with lust.

You tugged on the waist band of his pants and pulled it down along with his boxers. Xavier moves to help you get rid of it, then he sighs with pleasure as your hand touches his aching cock.

You stroke him a few times before easing him into you. Xavier grips your hips and nudges you to move, but you stay still despite your insides clenching with need for him.

You slightly bent down backwards to pick up the controller he dropped and put it back in his hand.

"You gotta keep playing, Xavier~"

"What?"

"You wanted to finish this level, right?"

His brows furrowed with confusion. "You...want me to keep playing? Right now...?" His cock twitches, reminding you of your current positions. "But..."

"It'll be fine! I'll cheer you on!"

Xavier then realized what you're planning and lets out a low chuckle before tightening his grip on the controller.

"Fine, but... don't move until I'm done. This won't take long."

Now you wished that you'd faced the other way so you could keep watching him play. Looking over your shoulder to see the screen is uncomfortable, so you just rested your face on his shoulder.

You had no idea what was happening in his game but the fast clicking sounds of the buttons of his controllers made you want to laugh with amusement, knowing he's probably speed-running the level.

But then, you heard a sound that told you that his character just died, and it was followed by Xavier cursing under his breath.

To say that it didn't turn you on would be a lie.

And Xavier picked up on that too when he felt you clench around his cock.

Suddenly, everything darkened around you.

"What?!"

All the lights in the room just went out.

"Looks like the power went out." Xavier murmurs before letting go of the controller. "I can't play now. Too bad."

Xavier's hands made their way back to your hips.

"Gotta find something else to do."

He starts to gently push your hips back and forth, emitting a soft gasp out of your lips, which was muffled as he kisses you deeply.

You nudged him back so that his back could rest on the spatious bean-bag chair, then you put a hand on his chest and bounced on him harder, drawing out erratic groans out of him.

Sweat drips down your bodies as you grind against each other, and yet you couldn't slow down as you feel your insides tingling.

Unable to stay still, Xavier started to thrust his hips upwards to meet you half-way, going even faster than you are, all while his hands are tightly clinging onto yours.

Along with your cries of pleasure, the pitch black room is filled with the sounds of your bodies crashing as you chase your high together.

While Xavier pounds into you uncontrollably, your legs shook as you reach your orgasm, which dripped down to your thighs and onto his skin.

Xavier doesn't stop nor slow down as he feels his climax coming. He sat back up and continued to push his pulsating cock into you until he finally bursts and fills you up with ropes of cum.

He then wrapped his arms around you to hold you against him, with you still on his lap and his cock still nestled nside you.

He buries his face between your breasts, enjoying the way your hand softly combs his hair while you catch your breath.

"Hey, what's that?"

You squinted your eyes to observe the speck of light from his gaming console.

"It's...still on...."

You blinked as you realized what Xavier had done.

"The power never went out... you used your evol to get rid of all the lights?!"

Xavier yawns. "I'm sleepy. We should take a nap."

"Hey!"

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pookiesylus · 17 days ago

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Sylus when you’re on your period

(I’m on my period, and I need Sylus rn)

Notes:

- His dragon nesting instincts tend to come into play. First he’d toss you into bed with the softest blanket he could find along with your favorite plushies. He would play some soothing music or put on a show you like. He’d prepare tea, and leave it by your bedside. Basically, Sylus would collect any little thing in order to make the most comforting and safe environment for you.

- He wants to be your personal heating pad. He doesn’t mind grabbing one for you, but he’d much rather use his own body heat. (“It’s much more convenient this way, kitten.”) He likes to massage your abdomen with his hand, but he’s also very new to this type of care. So, he makes it known that his whole body is free real estate. Whether you want a massage, a cuddle session, or you just want to squeeze his arms when your cramps surface, Sylus is readily available.

- He does his research looking into the many ways to alleviate your discomfort, but he also studies you, taking your preferences into account. He pays attention to what pad or tampon brand you always get. He notices the snacks you tend to crave, and is always stocked up on them. Sometimes he senses your period before you even know it’s coming.

Scenario:

Sylus had picked you up from work, after you sent him many messages about how bad your cramps were. He carried you princess-style and took you to his nearest place of residence. Once he set you on the warm bed, you fell asleep shortly after.

After a few hours, you shook awake, a little disoriented from the new setting, despite its welcome atmosphere. The memory of Sylus carrying you there almost felt like a dream.

You slowly get up in search of Sylus, but find a red trail on the sheets.

“Ugh. I stained it.”

Your eyes travel to the nightstand where a set of lounge clothes is folded.

“Thank goodness.”

You change out of your tight work clothes and into the much more comfortable clothes Sylus left you.

You set back off to search for Sylus. The moment you make it to the hallway, a rich, delicious aroma hits your nose. You follow it to find him in a well-decorated kitchen, cooking your favorite meal.

“There’s my tired girl.” He looks to his side, his hands still busy.

“Sylus?” You guiltily shuffle your feet and hug his waist from behind.

“Yes, Kitten?” He hums.

“I might have stained your sheets. I’m sorry.” You say hiding your face into his back.

He doesn’t answer and just chuckles.

“What?” You reply in confusion.

“You’re cute. That’s all.” He chuckles again,” I’ll wash them.”

You look up at him from the side. “Wait. That’s not fair. Let me do something. You’ve done so much for me.”

He looks down and smirks at you. “Then you can reward me.”

“Reward?”

“You can reward me with a date once you feel better. Then it’ll be fair, right?”

“Okay…” You answer softly.

“Don’t feel guilty, kitten. You’re the one in pain.” He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Now, why don’t you go sit on the couch. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He directs his eyes back to what he’s cooking.

“I don’t want to. I want to be here.” You say, still glued to his back.

“So…” He says inquisitively. “When my kitten’s on her period, she likes it when I’m near her at all times. Noted.”

“I guess you’re stuck with me tonight.” You giggle.

“I wouldn’t mind being stuck with you every night.”

#sylus #lads #love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader fanfic #Sylus x reader #period care #fluff #Sylus fluff #Sylus headcanon #hc #sylus headcanons

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un-fwuit-un-fwog · 4 months ago

Text

The Prefect Was Here

Synopsis: The VDC boys notice the ways in which The Prefect has left their mark.

Something Ace notices during his time staying in Ramshackle is the various out of place chairs and boxes in different rooms of the dorm. He first realized they were there because he would trip over them or stub his toe on their corners. He'd move the objects out of the way to prevent himself from injuring himself on them again, but the next day they'd be back in their spots. This little cycle of him stumbling over the objects, moving them, and then stumbling over them again the next day repeated for a while until one late evening when the pieces clicked. Ace was leaving his room to get a glass of water from the kitchen when he looked over the railing of the stairs to see you stood atop one of the particularly annoying chairs placed in the lounge. A chair he trips over almost every morning in his half-awake state placed right next to the fireplace. Watching you organize various photo albums on a shelf above the mantle, he finally understood. He stopped moving the objects that no longer seemed out of place after that. They were right where they belonged: next to tall shelves, high up windows, and the occasional rickety door you had to open by shimmying it open from the top.

You often lent Deuce your notes to copy for those class periods he just couldn't keep his eyes open: exhausted from a long night of studying. At first he didn't notice anything, too busy frantically taking notes. It wasn't until he was staying in Ramshackle and he no longer had to worry about getting your notebook to you before day's end when you'd head off to your dorm and he to his that he saw it. As he was studying your notes he saw a little doodle on the edge of the page. The doodle was of Grim stirring a cauldron while standing on a stool, his goggles falling off his head. As he continued through your notes he saw ones of Epel carving an apple, Rook shooting a bow, and Vil looking studying rehearsal footage. Flipping back through the book and starting from the beginning he noticed the doodles seemed to be telling the story of your time at NRC. Early in the book, before there were notes on classes, there were doodles of the dark mirror, Crowley, and Grim. About the time you were officially enrolled there were drawings of the great 7, Ace with a smug look on his face, and even Deuce summoning a cauldron. He's asking to borrow your notes again? You could have sworn he was awake all class period (he just wants to see any new doodles).

Kalim noticed the walls, or more specifically: what was on them. It wasn't the boarded-up holes that drew his attention, nor was it the dust that you never could seem to get rid of completely. What got Kalim's attention were the drawings. In the kitchen, in your room, and on various doors there were drawings taped to the wood. Some were colorful while other were monochrome. Big, small, detailed, simple; he loved all of them! In your room you had an entire wall covered in pieces of your art, many of said pieces being of your friends and your various adventures. Your door was basically an extension of that wall just with a prominent sign in the middle reading 'Prefect and Grim.' Grim's name seemed to be written in his own handwriting (pawwriting?) and at the bottom of the sign laid a pawprint and a handprint. The other doors that had signs were rooms like the bathroom, laundry room, and the rooms each of the boys stayed in. The first few signs were put there by yourself to help the guys more easily navigate the sometimes-confusing building while the ones on each of their doors was to make them feel like they too belonged there. The kitchen had various drawings or little doodles your friends made for you. No matter how simple or detailed the drawing, you had every single thing anyone had drawn for your here displayed on the wall. All but Grim's art. He had his own pedestal (the fridge) for that. Kalim made sure to make his fair share of contributions to your display wall.

Jamil was in charge of the kitchen during the VDC and found some things rather unusual from the moment he stepped foot in there. Nearly all of your upper shelves were completely empty and when he pulled out a drawer he assumed would be a utensil drawer all he found was towels. That would be fine on its own, but none of the drawers had utensils. The upper cabinets that did have things in them held cleaning supplies, items that are commonly agreed to go below the sink. Just when he thought he was going to have to go back to Scarabia to get any kitchenware, he checked the lower cabinets. That's where he found pots, pans, cups, plates, and any other kitchen item you'd need all organized nicely as if they weren't in the most bizarre of places. Just as he was about to resign to silently judging you for your dishware placement, Grim came up beside him and opened one of the lower cabinets to grab a cup before scampering over to a step ladder placed next to the counter so he could reach the faucet and fill his cup with water. After seeing that he supposed your placement of things made sense. And after much time cooking in your kitchen as well as having to bend down to grab items he also realized that you must be even kinder than he originally thought (or just plain stupid, but he's keeping that thought to himself).

Vil is a man of beauty. He believes in not only you as a person looking your best at all times but also making sure your surrounding look their best. He understood most of Ramshackle's 'quirks' were unfixable as things were, and you did seem to keep the place remarkably clean all things considered, but there was something that caught his scrutinous eye. Clothes hung up to dry in the laundry room and bathroom (it was too cold to dry them outside) splattered in paint and a door that had matching patterns. At one point he grew curious as to what could possibly possess a person to leave a door in such a state and decided to open it. He almost fainted when he saw inside. The walls, ceiling, floor, and any furniture unlucky enough to be in the room was covered in layers of paint. The only thing that seemed to be kept clean was the window with a view of the forest beside the dorm. He left that day deciding that how you kept that room didn't affect him. As long as your mess didn't encroach into his space he would leave you to your mayhem. However, something odd began to happen. On a day Vil felt especially stressed, he went to do his laundry. When he closed the washer door and turned it on he looked up to see a row of paint splattered clothes hung up to dry, and before he knew it he was opening the door to what he assumed to be your art studio. He closed the door gently behind him and simply stood there in the room as the evening sun cast warm rays of light in through the window. It was as he stood there that he realized just how comforting the room's atmosphere was. It was hectic with all the paint everywhere and yet calming and homely at the same time. Now whenever he got too stressed during the VDC he went to that room to simply take a moment to breathe and forget about the stresses of being perfect. To look around at the remnants of pieces you put your heart and soul in splattered across the walls: telling a story only you know but that anyone who takes the time to observe can feel. Now, he may even see your paint splattered clothes and face to be rather endearing (not that he'll admit it).

Ever the hunter of Beauty, Rook notices a lot of ways in which you leave your mark on this world. The stickers on the covers of your notebooks, the patched sewn a bit sloppily onto your clothes, and even the spots on your front doorstep that have been ever so slightly worn down from scraping off mud and/or snow every time you come inside are all glorious examples of how you make the world more beautiful by being here. However, he does have a favorite. Out of every way you show that you've been here in this world, that you existed, his favorite by far is yours and Grim's height charts lightly scratched into the wall in a corner of the kitchen in a nook between the fridge and the wall. You wouldn't see it unless you really looked, but as we all know, he looks. Seemingly etched into the wall with a fork, butterknife, or something of the sort as not to be erased or easily covered up by paint are two separate sets of dashes. One is low to the floor while the other is about where the top of your head would be were you to stand with your back to the wall. Each chart has initials below the lowest mark and each dash has a date next to it. However, what really gets Rook's heart soaring is the initials and how after the letter of each of your first names there is an R. Now, Rook knows Grim doesn't have a last name and that you haven't uttered a word about what yours is (whether it be because you forgot or just simply don't want to tell people). Overwhelmed with curiosity he hunts down the ghosts to ask them the meaning of the R to which they tell him it stands for Ramshackle. You and Grim saw each other as family and so you decided to unofficially create a last name to share. When you were unable to agree on a good one you suggested Ramshackle so as to always remember your roots in this world. Rook won't encroach on the memory by asking to put a height chart of his own next to the two of yours, but you do notice that suddenly any official paperwork you or Grim gets has 'Ramshackle' after your first names.

What Epel notices are the big tape Xs in various places within the dorm. On the stairs, on the a spot in the hallway on the 2nd floor, there're even parts of the banister wrapped in blue tape. At some point he gets curious and prods at the banister only for it to sway and nearly fall off. This catches his attention so he goes through the dorm looking for places with tape on them to see if his hypothesis was correct, and, wouldn't ya know it, it was. All the places with tape are areas that could be considered hazardous for one reason or another. At first he wonders if you were just really dumb and put tape there to try and fix it, but when he sees you avoiding the areas too he decided that's not it. Then the idea comes up that perhaps they're there for an inspector that's going to come to fix up ramshackle, but it becomes apparent that's not the case when you come back one evening: exhausted from trying to convince Crowley to do something about the water damage in the attic only to be shut down. It isn't until he sees you yank Kalim back by the collar of his shirt as he was about to step on one of the Xs that he realizes you put them there to keep people safe. Epel tried pulling up a piece of tape at one pint in his inspection to get a better idea of what was underneath it and for the life of him he couldn't get it unstuck. At least he know for sure that it will stay there for generations to come acting as a kind reminder to anyone else who ventures into the dorm to avoid those areas and keep themselves safe.

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pomefioredove · 9 months ago

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can I request house wardens + leech twins with a reader who doesn't eat enough bc Crowley doesn't give them enough for food, and they end up really ill and collapsing or something. I'm cravin some fluffy comfort rn, pls and thank you 🙏

I got you🫡🫡 as someone who's been through an eerily similar situation, I really liked this request

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ another crowley moment™️

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jade, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, mentions of food and not eating

Riddle wouldn't even have to like you to rush to your side. but he does like you, which makes it all the worse

after checking your vitals, you're in the infirmary. he's got doctors for parents, after all, and he knows that malnutrition is bad

he should have seen the signs...

with exams coming, he's been so busy, and he assumed that you were just tired from studying

but he can feel guilty later. right now, he needs to focus on you getting well again, and not killing Crowley

(then, of course, he'll look for some legal statute or clause that he can threaten Crowley with so you're fed properly)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona noticed you'd been acting a little weird lately, but watching you collapse still puts him in shock

luckily, Ruggie and Jack are nearby to help you to the infirmary, so Leona can focus on hunting Crowley down like an animal

there are very few times where Leona is particularly grateful for his status, but this is one of them. just one word on how his family will be hearing about Crowley's neglect, and the old bastard is begging him for forgiveness

even after that, Leona still sends Ruggie with snacks and drinks to Ramshackle

and if you ever scare him like that again, you'll regret it (lovingly)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the news of you collapsing during flight lessons reaches Octavinelle rather fast. no one is particularly surprised, since Floyd had mentioned how easily you'd been bruising lately just the night before, but everyone is certainly worried

Azul is the first at your side, asking you all sorts of questions, worried sick. Jade has to remind him to give you space to rest, since you look exhausted (had you always had those dark circles? how could Azul have not noticed?)

now, Azul and the tweels could easily find a way to pressure Crowley, but they know better than to trust him

from now on, you'll be eating in the Mostro Lounge, free of charge

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

perhaps Kalim was just oblivious, because he really didn't think anything was wrong until you were suddenly on the floor in front of him

sure, you'd been a little moody lately, but he figured it was just a thing you were going through. and besides, you know that you can talk to him about anything... right?

Jamil hurries to check your pulse, and shouts for him to get the school nurse- which is jarring, because Jamil never shouts

when you explain everything to Kalim later, he feels... terrible. he should've known- no, he should've asked

Kalim insists you stay at Scarabia while you're recovering, and makes sure you have the most enriching, delicious meals money can buy

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil knew it was bad, but not this bad. if he had known you were on the verge of collapsing, he would've taken a firmer approach to getting you to eat

you're going to worry him to death someday, you know that?

after he's done verbally eviscerating Crowley, he'll insist on joining you at every meal. he'll eat at Ramshackle, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, if that's what it takes

he's subtle about it, at least

if he notices that your plate feels empty, he'll just take some food from his and put it on yours. gracefully, elegantly, without a word

you'll come home one day to see your kitchen stocked with vitamins, supplements, and apples (courtesy of Epel)

<3 and a note that says he'll treat you to dinner whenever you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

never scare Idia like that ever again. he wasn't even with you when you collapsed, and he STILL nearly had a heart attack

listen, he knows he's not a great role model when it comes to nutritional eating, but you have got to tell him these things. he would've had Ortho go get takeout! or something!

typical Crowley behavior, SMH. what does he think you are? a rabbit? even the school horses get treated better...

no way that Idia is going to even bother with that old fart, anyway. you want something? he'll get it for you. you don't even have to ask, he'll just send food to your place (and have Ortho check your vitals more often but shhh)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I would not want to be in the room when Malleus finds out about this

not even the building. you know what? I'd steer clear of the whole island, because it will not be pretty

when you collapse in front of him, it feels like he's dying, too. the panic sets in, and he sends Lilia to look after you, and Silver and Sebek to escort you to the infirmary, and then he casually threatens to smite Crowley. obviously

if the students and staff of NRC thought Malleus was scary just being Malleus, he's terrifying when he's mad

(rest assured that you will be getting ten times the amount of food from now on)

it's thunderstorms for days after, but he never leaves your side

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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invincibledc · 18 days ago

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BATUNCLE!reader who just always gets called instead of his brother. It’s sickening how greedy his nephews and nieces are.

note: all batfam are kids in this expect for Bruce ofc lol!

“Uncle y/n!!!!!” Dick when he was just a Robin, screams as he rushes into the study room to see his uncle wearing his signature glasses. Y/n holds back a deep sigh, looking at the acrobat who just smiles at him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” “Watch, what I can do.” Dick says before doing a new trick he just learnt.

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle, clapping to encourage the little bird. “Amazing! Show uncle what else you can do.” Dick’s eyes light up as he started to do some more tricks.

“UNC! UNC!!!!!!” Jason dragged as he was in the kitchen working on homework.

Y/n looked at his twin brother who looks back at him. “That’s your son.” Y/n says, getting ready to head out, but instead Bruce chuckles.

“But that’s your nephew, and he’s calling for you.”

Y/n was suddenly in the kitchen, seeing jason’s lit up face. “Yo, unc! Help me with this math question?” He asked, showing him the equation.

“What the..” y/n grabbed the paper and gave it back. “Uhm. How about we head out for ice cream?” Y/n says, clearly not understanding this generation’s math solving problems.

Jason hopped off the chair and rushed to hold his uncles’s hand.

“Ice cream. Ice cream! Ice cream!”

“Uncle?” Tim says softly, walking into his uncle’s room.

“Yes Timmy boy?”

“Is Santa real?” He asked towards his lovely uncle.

“Of course he’s real, you just gotta be asleep to earn any gifts.” Y/n says, taking his glasses off and lay down.

It’s quiet before Tim gets on the bed with his uncle. “Is that why you have a Santa costume in your closet?”

Y/n’s eyes flew right open as Tim just stare at him. “Okay bed time champ!”

“Ammu.” (uncle)Damian says, alerting of his presence. Y/n turned around, having to get ready to go get groceries. “Yes dames?” Y/n says, putting his jacket on as the small brown skinned boy walks towards him.

“I wanna come too.” He says, he already looked ready—maybe a little too ready as he had his Velcro shoes on and a jacket that seems a little too big.

Y/n chuckled, “you sure? It’s gonna be a long trip with me to the grocery store.”

“I’m sure!” He says a little too excitedly, he grabs onto his uncle’s hand. Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle before heading out with the small boy.

“Of course..”

“UNCLEEEE!!!!” Steph yells, running towards the man that ran away as the blonde girl tackled him.

“Where have you been dude?! I’ve been waiting for you to watch this movie I just saw!”

“Been busy with work, kiddo… get off me please..” Stephane gets off the poor man, chuckling before dragging him to the living room.

Cass stood beside her uncle, watching him do a puzzle by himself, “uncle.” She signs after tugging on the male’s sleeve. “Yes honey?” He replies, pausing himself from completing his puzzle.

“I wanna color with you. Please.” She tugs harder, getting him at least out his chair. Y/n sighs, but walks with her to her room. “Why not your father? I’m sure he can make time to—” he was interrupted with a pout from the girl.

“Okay never mind, drawing it is!”

BATUNCLE!reader who can’t deny his nephews and nieces at all…

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unluckilyimnot · 9 months ago

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Playing with their hair – aether, kinich, wanderer, rin, sae, sakura

note: i'm just in love with aether and kinich recently and i needed to write something with aether's hair so why not had some of my fav characters along with them. that's probably not really good but i guess it's cute. ooc

m.list | rules

Aether is used to your hands suddenly laying on his hair, running through them when you walk behind him – it’s like an urge, you just have to. You stopped on your track, bowing to kiss his head, inhaling his shampoo a little and hummed at the sweet scent.

“You took my shampoo again,” you mentioned, not in a warning way, more like you appreciate it. He nodded lightly, delighting himself from the feeling of your hands still running through his hair, scratching his scalp a little before kissing it again.

Sensing that you’re about to go away, his hands take yours gently and his head bent down to look up at you. “Already leaving ? We can both take a break…” he said, subtly implying you to not stop yet, making you giggle.

“Sure, we can.”

That’s basically how he ended up sitting on the floor between your thighs, watching a movie while you brush his hair for him, kindly letting your fingers run down his beautifully long hair – trying small, low buns to one high ponytail.

“Having fun ?” You can hear the smile in his voice, amused as always when he let you enjoy his hair more than he does.

“Always.” you said while kissing his nose from above, hiding the tv from his sight for a mere second but he still whines at you for doing so. Such a crybaby.

Kinich sighs as he feels your hands examining his hair again. “Would you stop doing that ?”

He knows you’re not doing this to annoy him, yet it always kind of stresses him to picture you scanning his scalp without any invitation to do so. He also knows that you don’t care about what he says, continuing to play with his hair while you swipe away some dandruff here and there.

“What’s the matter,” you talked back, seemingly frustrated. “You never say anything when it’s to help you fall asleep.” you argued, feeling really satisfied when he doesn’t find anything to say after that. It for sure helps a lot, he can’t argue with that, but he really hoped you could realize that it works all the time and not only when he wants it to – which means he was getting sleepy, slightly closing his eyes while he still had a lot to do.

A satisfied sigh escaped his lips before he could hold it in and you hummed teasingly. Your hands moved from his head to his chest, your arms caging him against you and you laid your head on top of his. “Tired already ?”

“Shut it.” he sounded harsh but he still rested against your chest as well, feeling at peace being so close to you. He wasn’t really tired but if you let him, Kinich would for sure appreciate some quality time with his head in your chest and your hands in his hair. Not that he’ll say it to you.

Wanderer honestly never mind when you ask him if you can play with his hair, he’s usually already busy and not moving so someone touching his hair while studying doesn’t change much for him. He won’t say that it doesn’t make it easy to concentrate since he, sometimes, tends to focus on this more than on the words written in front of him but he still appreciates how peaceful it makes him feel when he’s particularly worried or stressed.

Your hand running through his short strands of hair takes him somewhere else where he doesn’t need to worry as much, he likes it, even if he would never be physically capable of telling you.

“You’re braiding it ?” he asks, half absent in his question – he just wanted to confirm the feeling of your fingers brushing past his cheeks repeatedly. You hummed softly in response, leaving the braid dying the second you let it go since his hair was too short to handle it. It doesn’t discourage you though, and before he can ask what you’ll do next, he can already feel your steady movement back to the same scheme and a soft chuckle left his lips.

“You want me to stop ?” you asked under your breath, probably still concentrated on what you were doing but still caught his sigh.

“No, it’s fine. Go on.” he assured before stepping back again into his study, more than relaxing by this short break.

Rin loves movie dates to his core, but it always gets him when you start touching his hair in the middle of the movie. It's like he's never getting used to it and he's jolting a bit every single time, making you chuckle. But you always kiss his head as an excuse after.

There's something relaxing when your fingers start to twirl around his short hair, making him wonder who appreciates it the most between you and him. Because he for sure loves it.

His mind drifts away easily despite himself and how badly he wants to follow the movie. He always finds some way to lean into you, craving for more like a cat and more often than not, he ends up laying on top of you.

“Don't fall asleep this time Rin,” you joke while scratching his head playfully. He simply nodded, absorbed in the movie more than you gave him credit for. He just didn't want you to stop.

Sae hates it when he feels your hands finding his hair in the middle of the day. He spends quite some time styling his hair in the morning, even if it doesn’t look like it, and you being nearby automatically becomes a danger for that.

Not that he doesn’t like you touching his hair, he’s fond of it, he wishes he could die with you touching his hair, but not during the day. So as soon as he feels it, he immediately gets up and warns you. “Please don’t.”

But he knows it can't be helped and soon your lips meet his, kissing him sweetly – your successful way to distract him – so you can end up with your hands reaching the hair in his neck. Twirling your fingers around it, pulling ever so slightly to annoy him but he still lets you. Not without a sigh against your lips, but he knows damn well he can't hold you back when you're determined to do something.

He wishes he could keep his hair pretty for the day at least once in a while but he can't blame you ; both of you like it very much. He can forget his image for yet another day if that means he can appreciate the relaxing feint of your fingernails on his scalp. Even if lately it's starting to be everyday, he won't mention it – or not seriously.

Your smile is more precious than some good hair day.

Sakura still isn't used to you touching his hair, he hasn't been used to gentle gestures in his life before coming here – especially regarding his looks. The second your hands find his hair, he flinches by reflex even if he knows that it’s only you around him. He doesn’t turn you down anymore though since you always let him know how you love his hair, for the color or the fluffiness ; it’s just the best thing in the word and it got to be your boyfriend’s hair. You must be blessed.

You still try not to frighten him too much, and start by touching his shoulders then going up to his neck and finally the hair in the nape of it. Twirling it lightly with your fingers and you’re sure to catch him snapping his head to you with a blush.

“What are you doing ?!” he asked as always, flustered but not telling you to stop anyway which made you smile sweetly.

“I’m playing with your hair ? You want me to stop ?” you tilted your head to the side, trying to act cute and confused so he doesn’t have the heart to tell you no. And with a resigned look but his brows still frowned, he compiled without adding anything.It’s a win, once again.

You then slowly but surely brush through all his hair, tossing it one side to another, mixing the two colors together then separating it again like a puzzle. That’s something you grew to love, separating his hair for him and that’s also your best excuse to touch it even when there’s people around. Even if he’s not fond of it.

He tends to lay a bit in your hand when you do so, or when you stop your hand in his hair, quietly liking the feeling now that you’ve given him some time. Not that he’ll say it to you, never, but he doesn’t need to for you to know. It’s just like you to notice how he relaxes around you and when you do it. There’s a small smile on your lips when he tries to catch your eyes but looks away instantly, blushing again, and it makes you wonder when he’ll stop blushing around you.

“You’re cute, Haruka,” you said, brushing away his bang to kiss his forehead. And without a second of hesitation – when in fact yes, but you tried to ignore it – he was arguing with you about how he is NOT cute, simply proving your point again and again.

Let me know if you like it !

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paarksunghoon · 1 month ago

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walk the line | jongseong

SUMMARY: park jongseong has one regret and he's spent his entire life atoning for the pain he caused you. when you walk into office under the premise of working together, he's only got one shot to make things right before it's too late.

WORD COUNT: 33.1K

NOTES: this story was originally posted on my other blog, @pprodsuga. I will be transferring some work in due time and this is the first one! if it looks familiar, no need to panic or think I’m plagiarizing.

WARNINGS: contains smut.

PLAYLIST + MASTERLIST

***

When Jay was eleven years old, his father brought him a souvenir back from New York City when he traveled abroad for a week-long business trip. Jay has always been a big dreamer, too lost in his own reality to acknowledge the everyday life of grade school and all that came with it. It’s a tendency that his parents fostered and nurtured, instilling the belief that Jay could achieve anything he wanted in life if he dreamt hard enough.

The “I Heart NY” pin sits in the first drawer to the right of his desk. Besides his quick wit and intelligence, Jay would love to believe that pin is the reason why his desk on the fiftieth floor overlooks the city of Seoul.

Jay doesn’t make mistakes. He’s calculated and smart with his decisions based on cold, hard facts. He trusts his gut and prides himself in taking the high road when things get tough, letting losses go and holding his wins close to his heart. Practicing law isn’t for the weak, and Jay is not weak.

Yet walking into his office feels bleak on some days. The castle he serves doesn’t seem as golden as it once did in the early stages of his career. The gifts given to him by clients and admirers that sit around his office feel undeserved, no matter how many hours he put into making them happy. His only sense of comfort is the large vinyl collection he has that sits between shelf upon shelf for no one to touch but him.

Jay is meticulous in his work, rarely letting anyone into his inner circle without proving themselves first. It’s what makes him a great lawyer and what gave him a respectable name to his firm and others alike—Jay takes calculated risks and trusts no one, other than himself, completely.

Still, his days wane between fulfilling and empty.

He’s one of the first people to arrive at the office with a briefcase in hand and hair slicked back with expensive gel, wearing suits tailored at a few grand apiece. Jay doesn’t leave early either. He watches associates under him file out of the office one by one as the hour goes by until there’s no one left but him. It’s only then will Jay cap his pen or queue an email to send in the morning to make it appear as if he hadn’t spent all night in his office.

Jay loves his job. It gives him a sense of self fulfillment and it brings him joy to win cases for his clients, who range from high-paid celebrities to private equity firms. While the high salary and other liquid assets are perks of his profession, Jay puts his entire faith into his work and lets his winning streak do the talking for him.

He has to, or else law school wouldn’t have been worth it.

For three years, Jay studied from dusk until dawn for the chance to work in the career he’s been dreaming about since he received that ‘I Heart NY’ pin from his father all those years ago. Opening a particularly long chapter that was difficult to analyze never felt like a burden to Jay, not when his life would eventually amount to working at one of the big three law firms in Korea as Senior Partner.

Jay holds more ownership than he once did and manages his own associate now. He’s no longer at the entrance phase of his career. Jay’s responsible for more finances and harder cases the firm encounters, and he knows his boss and the Managing Partner, Lee Heeseung, expects the best from him.

Perhaps it’s why he feels compelled to put on his best smile and work until he feels exhausted because he knows he’ll be proud of it down the line. It’s what Jay assumes; all of the early mornings and late nights will prove to be worth it once he’s able to sit back and look down his long, successful career. People don’t admire him for nothing.

Nothing beats watching the sunset over the horizon as he ends his workday. The golden hues on the sun cascading down the city skyline fills the atmosphere of the office, signaling the end of the day. It’s when Jay feels his happiness. He’ll let the associates go home to catch up on rest and see their friends and families before it approaches a late hour.

Jay, however, stays behind to finish up on projects before his eyes grow weak and when he can’t keep his yawns at bay anymore. He’s already had his moments to leave at an appropriate time when he was a mere associate. Now, Jay has more responsibilities that he needs to maintain in order to feel like he really earned the title of Senior Partner. So he stays an hour after everybody goes home.

Jay is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears the sound of knuckles on his glass door.

“Knock knock.” Jake Sim’s voice echoes through the large office, bringing Jay back to reality. He clears his throat and turns around to see the younger man standing before him with a blue manila folder in his hands. “I come bearing gifts.”

“You’re a bit too late. Christmas was four months ago.”

“Ha-ha,” Jake laughs dryly. “Consider this an early birthday present, then.”

Jake presents the folder to his colleague, who opens the file and sifts through the papers at his fingertips. Jay’s eyebrow quirks with interest as he looks between the documents and the man standing before him. It’s something he’s been waiting on for weeks. Something that’ll make or break a case he’s been anxiously thinking about and what’s been making him stay behind until the clock ticks is the only audible sound on the entire floor.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Jay begins. He points at Jake with the folder. “You’re the man.”

“I’m always the man, you just don’t want to admit it.”

The pair smile at each other after a beat. Jay puts the file on his desk and invites Jake to take a seat on the couch by his vinyl collection, one that the man knows not to touch.

“I heard you’re almost done with the Yeon-Choi merger,” Jake says. “Heeseung mentioned it this morning.”

“I’m waiting on a fax from them, actually.” Jay takes his specks off of his face and places it nearly on his desk. “Sunoo’s on the lookout for the document. Speaking of which.”

Jake looks behind him to see Sunoo enter the office space as Jay waves him in. He hands over the stack of documents, freshly printed with the paper still warm to the touch.

“Ms. Kang just faxed it over,” says Kim Sunoo, a first year associate. “Thank you,” Jay says as he receives the document. He looks at Jake. “Now I’m done with the Yeon-Choi merger.”

“You’d think two global giants in the world of finance would be at odds with merging given their competitive streak in the past few years, but they’ve just signed a document that lists a communal agreement to share assets.” Jake watches Sunoo leave and waves goodbye before he walks out the door. “Managing this client was an insane move, even for you.”

“Choi Analytics is nothing if not determined,” Jay informs. “So am I, Sim. You should know that by now.”

“I think you bit off more than you could chew. You only secured that win with two days to spare.”

“I have you, don’t I?” Jay teases with the tilt of his head. “Who was it that told you to talk to Yang Nari and convinced her to take that settlement before we could agree to the terms of the merger?”

Jake laughs. “You, Park Jongseong.”

“It’s all about working smarter, not harder. Remember that.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Jake says with a mock salute.

“Please don’t ever call me that again.”

“Whatever you say, captain.”

Jay’s mouth quirks. “Go back to the bullpen and finish up the reports. Wouldn’t want you to pull another all nighter.” Jake leaves with a laugh and disappears around the corner.

The large office with glass doors and windows feels like a familiar set up. His workspace, with his name and title underneath it, feels more like a trophy case than a managerial place of work. His walk to his office from the elevator takes him past the associate bullpen, situated right next to Heeseung’s. This space is his sanctuary and he’d like to believe he performs best under pressure. It’s why he doesn’t mind people peering into his office whenever he’s sitting at his desk.

The days are long and the work is hard, but it’s the kind of job that makes Jay feel like he’s accomplished something in his life. Coming in as the sun rises and leaving just after it sets doesn’t feel like a sacrifice, nor does it feel like he’s losing out on opportunities when he’s got a bank account filled with zeroes and a penthouse apartment with the same view as his office. If anyone were to ask Jay about his life, he’d tell them he’s pretty damn happy.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Every morning is spent repeating mantras in his head about how far he’s come with the hard work and diligence that came with law school. The late nights and busy weeks spent memorizing cases and writing essays led to his employment as Lee & Associates, where he managed to acquire promotion after promotion through diligent work.

His newest title itself makes people look at Jay with respect, the kind of attitude he used to strive for when he was a humble law student. His early childhood was spent hearing his father talk about winning in court and the importance of believing in yourself when it comes time to face tough decisions. Jay’s father always advised him to do what he thinks is right, or else he’ll live with a regretful consequence for the rest of his life without the chance of rectifying it.

Jay’s loyalty and integrity is what makes people revere him. He stands tall and proud, walking into every room like he built the place with his bare hands. There’s never a hair out of place and his wardrobe reflects his luxurious tastes, always a suit from abroad and accessories to match.

He’s built a good life for himself. His father is still a practicing lawyer while his mother is considering retiring from her wildly successful jewelry business. Jay comes home for the holidays and visits them a few times a month for dinner when he has the time, and he does his best to keep the people around him happy.

After all, that’s what Jay does best.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

It’s Thursday morning and Jay’s week has gone by without a hitch. His clients aren’t giving him a hard time and he hasn’t had a reason to step into the courthouse at all. In addition, he hasn’t heard any of the associates complain about the workload given to them nor has Jake needed help with a problem for Jay to amend.

It feels odd to be as calm as he is. Jay wants to welcome it with open arms and sink into his seat until he feels like he’s vulnerable enough to sleep, but he knows that’s not in his job description. Instead, Jay needs to sleep with one eye open.

“Park,” Heeseung says as he pokes his head into Jay’s offices. “Can you spare a few minutes and meet me in my office? I need to call an impromptu meeting.”

“Sure,” Jay says as he puts a file in his cabinet. “What’s it for?”

“It’s better if we talk behind closed doors. Jake and Sunghoon are already waiting for us.”

Jay anxiously walks behind Heeseung and fixes his tie, patting it to his chest and smoothing it over in an attempt to distract himself from Heeseung’s cryptic words. He sees Sunghoon and Jake in the office and takes a seat on the armrest of Heeseung’s couch.

“What’s so important that you need to discuss this in your office with the door closed?” Park Sunghoon, a fellow senior partner, asks. “We didn’t lose a billion dollars overnight, did we?”

“No, but I know you would’ve caught that before that would’ve happened,” Heeseung quips back. “You aren’t our financial expert for nothing.”

“Damn straight.”

“What did you bring us in for, Heeseung?” Jake asks. Heeseung takes a moment to gather himself, eyes darting around the office before speaking.

“It’s about the Hybe Records case.”

“They’re holding a tight leash on people they sign on their main label or subsidiaries,” Jay nods. “Won't settle for a penny less than the recoupment.”

“Which is why a portion of people signed with Hybe came to us to help them rewrite the contracts from here on out,” Sunghoon adds. “Hybe came to us with a bullshit settlement offer and we declined. We’re still working on finding a chink in the armor.”

“Right,” Heeseung says. “What else do we know about the case?”

“Hybe acts as the bank and their musicians take out a loan to make an album,” Jake says, pacing in Heeseung’s office with his arms outstretched for emphasis. “The artist can use that money however they like and the sales made go right back to the label before they can make a profit.”

“Exactly,” Jay nods, “which is why the label has been terminating their contractual agreement before they can produce the agreed amount of records.”

“Hybe has more than enough money for a buyout.” Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s fucked up.”

“The label keeps the catalog and the money while the musician gets nothing.” Jay frowns.

“We all know it’s why musicians and idols pick up endorsements or pick up acting,” Heeseung mentions. “I mean, the money they get from other ventures supplements their income that they don’t get from music. But because that’s normal practice and it doesn’t help our sob story angle, I don’t know where else to turn to.”

“We’ve been fighting this day and night for weeks. You’re not telling me you’re dropping this, are you?” Sunghoon asks.

“Between Jay’s regular clients, Jake’s assisting, my workload, and your cases, we don’t have the bandwidth to fight this. Quite frankly, I don’t trust anyone to work on this but you three.”

“Is there something we should know about?” Jay inquires. “Did Hybe threaten us?”

“No, nothing like that.” Heeseung sighs. “Look, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m burnt out. Hybe isn’t making this easy on us and we’re running out of time. What I’m trying to say is I’ve consulted with another firm and have hired outside help. We need fresh eyes on this case.”

Jay nervously runs his hand through his hair.

Heeseung’s right, this lawsuit is eating up most of his hours and consumes his thoughts when he’s off the clock. The people being affected are anywhere between starving artists and people who can afford to pay him his billables without question. But the greater good is what Jay thinks about and realistically, he knows it would hurt him to see so many people lose their avenue to pursue their passions.

Hearing stories from clients makes his heart lurch. Each deposition to discuss what happened behind closed doors with label executives makes Jay’s pursuit that much stronger. To know he has the privilege of obtaining a law degree and being able to work in his dream career without much of a hitch makes him feel guilty when he knows the very people sitting in front of him are putting their passions on the line. It makes him work harder.

He’s no longer the law student that slaved away writing essays and pulling all-nighters to accomplish a task that wouldn’t matter in the long run. Now, all of Jay’s efforts matter. His work will be impacted for years to come and he can’t afford to misstep when handling clients. It’s why he feels so strongly about this case and why it’s hard for him to stop thinking about it when he gets home. A penthouse overlooking the city means nothing if he can’t help the people who got him there.

Jay knows Sunghoon and Jake feel the same way, too. Sunghoon, who came from a similar background to Jay, has always struggled with finding his voice in the business of law. Now as a senior partner with more at stake, he knows his friend will stand his ground if that means his clients walk away with everything they asked for. Jake, a first year associate having graduated law school after taking a few years off from college, is arguably the most sensitive of the three. He loves his work and finds passion in the people he helps represent. It’s why Jay trusts him and why he chose Jake to be his associate in the first place.

To take action on behalf of his clients means to succeed. Jay knows he comes from wealth and privilege, and he’d likely be just fine if he chose a career that wasn’t law. But his foot is in the door because his father was able to give him a legacy standard at law school, and it would be a shame to let that go to waste as if he didn’t have anything to prove. Jay knows he does.

“As we already know,” Heeseung begins to say, “we need all the help we can get on the Hybe Records case. They’re the most powerful label in all of Asia and they’ve got their teeth sunk in every Asian market.”

“They’ve got a dozen smaller labels beneath them and they’re always looking to convince independent labels to give up their ownership,” Jay says. “It’ll be hard to reach a settlement for all of them.”

“I know,” Heeseung sighs. He leans on the front of his desk. “I know you guys can handle it. Between the four of us, we can try to win this thing but it’ll take more time than they’re giving us.”

“Kid genius could probably read up on their files by tomorrow morning,” Sunghoon snorts as Jake elbows his rib cage.

“Don’t be silly, Sunghoon. I couldn’t possibly do that in a single night.” Jake smirks. “Give me two days.”

“Show off,” Sunghoon mutters with a hidden grin.

“Even so, it won’t be enough to fight them. Hybe has hired a plethora of lawyers to back them up and block us out.” Heeseung crosses his arm and is sure to maintain eye contact with the three boys in front of him. “It’s important to keep our clientele, but imagine how much business this would bring if we won.”

“You think that many musicians would hire us?” Jake asks.

“I think that many musicians care about owning their own music and not having to pay back a recoupment.”

“The amount an artist has to pay back before they keep their earnings,” Jake says with pursed lips. “Right. That’s really unfair.”

“That’s the music industry for you.”

“Labels are greedy as shit,” Sunghoon says with bitterness in his tone. “They make a promise to up and coming musicians and swear they’ll be successful by the end of the year, but they don’t really care about that. They’ll give money to make albums but won’t care if these people live or die if they don’t see a late profit.”

“It’s sickening,” Jake adds. “It should be illegal for musicians having to take endorsements and sponsorships just to pay the bills. They look like sellouts.”

“I don’t like it any less than you guys do,” Heeseung responds. “But that’s the way it works. We just need to find a good enough reason for them to settle with us. We aren’t budging on the recoupment.”

“Well, I’m glad we all agree that musicians shouldn’t have to pay back their loan.”

“I’m confident in you all,” Heeseung tells them. “Jay, you’re one of my best guys. You close deals and negotiate settlements like no one I’ve ever seen before. Sunghoon, you’ve been an incredible lawyer since the moment we hired you and you’re the only person I don’t have to keep my eye on.” Heeseung turns to take. “And Jake, you’re a gifted associate with a knack for getting people to tell you the truth. I’ve never met anyone quite like you either.”

“He makes depositions seem like fun,” Sunghoon laughs.

Jake smiles dramatically. “Nobody can lie to this beautiful face.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Heeseung interjects, “is that you’re all incredible lawyers and I’ve never regretted hiring you.”

“There’s always a but,” Jay comments. Heeseung nods.

“But, our best isn’t enough. Our best doesn’t account for the numerous legal and financial attacks Hybe Records will bestow on us. We’ve been thinking big but we need to think bigger. We need to think outside the box.”

“What do you propose?” Jay asks. “We’ve already gotten a first meeting with Hybe and God knows they’ll pressure us to give them an answer soon. I know that they know we won’t budge and are probably working with a counter move as we speak.”

“We’re bringing in someone from an outside firm.”

“What?” Sunghoon says. “Which one?”

“Tang-Young,” replies Heeseung. “They’re a powerful firm, as we know, and were one of the few who declined to represent Hybe.”

“We trust them, right?” Jake asks.

“We do, yes,” Heeseung confirms with a single nod. “Tang-Young have been kind to us and I’d like to believe we’ve been the same to them. We’ve been invited to consult on cases before and they’ve helped us out in the past, albeit it’s been a while. But we need all the help we can get and they were enthusiastic about assisting us.”

“I don’t know,” Jay says. “Catching someone else up to speed while we’re this far down the line? That seems like busy work. Unless we have another Jake who can read and memorize documents as quickly as he can, I don’t know how much help they’ll be.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be pleased with our colleague,” Heeseung says cryptically. Jay looks at him with confusion. “You guys trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” says Sunghoon. “I wouldn’t be working here if I didn’t.”

“Then I’ll need you to trust me when I say the partner working with us is the best in the business. She’s an old friend and someone I confide in, which if you know me, is hard to do unless you work at this firm.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Jake asks.

Heeseung sighs. “I’m saying this now because I didn’t have time to discuss the partnership prior to today because of deadlines and we need all the help we can get. A friend from law school, Kazuha, was willing to help us out since we assisted on that auto lawsuit a few months back.”

“We don’t need to worry,” Sunghoon says. “This is the best law firm in Korea and we have a history of having the highest rate in cases closed successfully. You’re our leader, Heeseung. We know you wouldn’t go behind our backs unless it was important.”

“We need a miracle for this one,” says Heeseung. “Jay’s already running point on this case but he alone can’t handle the burden.”

A sinking feeling festers in Jay’s chest. He knows that name–Kazuha–from when he was in law school and knew her family to have built Asia’s largest corporate law firm from the ground up. They’re respectable, highly profitable, and a company Jay would rather not think about because hearing that name reminds him of his deepest regrets.

His week is offset by Heeseung’s sudden news. Jay has never doubted his elder, especially since Heeseung was a mentor to Jay in his early years of his career, but the hairs on the back of his neck perk up at the sight of Heeseung periodically looking at Jay. He doesn’t think Sunghoon or Jake notices the awkward tension in the room either, too engrossed with talking strategy plans on how to make sure the new, mysterious partner is up-to-date.

Jay fiddles with the rings adorned on his fingers. The expensive jewelry, some of which are presents to himself and others gifts from his parents, provide a temporary distraction for him. They’re warm to the touch with how often he twists them for every word Heeseung speaks. Jay’s throat suddenly feels too dry.

“We’ll be fine,” Sunghoon tells Jake, forcing Jay to tune back into the conversation. “I think we’re all on edge because this is by far the biggest case we’ve handled in the past few years.”

“There are dozens of clients who are filing a lawsuit against Hybe but it isn’t considered class action yet,” Heeseung replies. “We could very well set a precedent if we manage to win this thing.”

“That would put the firm on the map!” Jake exclaims. “Just think about it. If we manage to settle in our favor so that these musicians don’t have to pay the label back, we could set an example so other major labels follow through with no recoupment.”

“This is why everything’s been kept under wraps and why I’ve had to act before consulting you three.” Heeseung finds a pen from his desk and twirls it in between his fingers. “I love this company. I became managing partner not too long ago and my predecessor took his name off of the door and added mine because he thought I could do something with the firm. You three are people I trust more than anyone else and I wouldn’t have agreed to let you work on it if I didn’t believe we could succeed.”

Jay can sense the nervousness and anxiety in Heeseung’s tone. In all of his years working with him, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen the man as on edge as he is now. Heeseung cannot manage to sit still and the pen his fingers are distracting him almost like Jay’s rings are. It’s no wonder they work so well together.

“We can do it, Heeseung,” Sunghoon says in an attempt to quell the atmosphere. “It’s hard and tedious, but what case isn’t?”

“Besides, we have Jay. He is the best closer in Seoul,” Jake vouches, a coy smirk sitting on the edge of his lips as Heeseung merely smiles and shrugs in casual agreement.

The sounds of knuckles rapping on Heeseung’s glass door interrupts their conversation. The image of you standing before him knocks the air out of his lungs.

He’s brought back to when he was a second year law student, struggling in his criminal law class before meeting you for the first time. Your timid and quiet demeanor is nothing compared to the confidence you exude in the present day. Right now, you look put together with your all-black attire and red bottom heels to match. The way you’ve styled your hair allows your face to be seen instead of using it as a tool to hide yourself. Even with all of your perceived shortcomings, Jay remembers you as timid but headstrong. Now, it looks like he’s staring at someone he doesn’t recognize.

Jay feels innocent again, traveling back to a time before work became the sole focus of his life and before the guilt of what he did to you ate him alive. It feels almost unnatural for him to see you in a professional setting. Sitting in the campus library with opened books or looking at you from across the table of a cheap ramen restaurant is where Jay’s used to seeing you.

Heeseung’s office is the last place he’d ever expect to run into you.

The last Jay heard, you were off practicing law in Busan before heading to New York for a few years to consult on Korean-American affairs until your visa expired. He never had the opportunity to see you in court before, not since law school.

There was a time when Jay couldn’t step into a courthouse without wondering if you were inside with him. With every corner turned and every door opened, Jay would anticipate seeing that same beautiful and innocent face locking eyes with him as he stepped into the room. Jay would picture you in those long floral dresses you loved so much staring at him with anger in your eyes, wearing an expression caused by actions he’d never be able to atone for.

Guilt used to eat him from the inside out. The moment his alarm clock woke him up was when the guilt would settle deep within his chest. For a while, this feeling towards the way things ended with you was the reason why he pushed himself to stay in the office after everybody else left, back when he was a first year associate. Guilt led Jay to work three times as hard as everyone else and why he will never leave a stone unturned.

While that culpability subdued with the time that has passed, none of that matters now. Seeing you in Heeseung’s office with a friendly smile on your face makes that sense of wrongdoing resurface all at once.

The woman he sees before him is not the woman he remembers. Jay still has the same overly confident, hardworking attitude he exhibited when he knew you back in law school. He’s still the same person who gets tongue-tied when he looks at you and he’s still the same person who regrets never calling you after you both graduated.

Unlike the disheveled mess Jay remembers from when he last saw you, you’ve become polished. He sees that you’ve grown into yourself with your shoulders held back and head looking straight in front of you instead of casting your gaze to the floor. Your eyes meet everyone in the room, his included. You wear a big smile on your face and take a step forward before bowing towards him and his colleagues.

Jay doesn’t think he deserves that respect from you.

“Jay’s the second best,” you comment. Even your speech has matured. “I happen to be the first.”

“Everyone, meet Kim Y/N.” Heeseung takes a step forward to return your bow and shake your hand, welcoming you into his office.

“Y-Y/N?” Jay stutters, eyes widened in shock when he spots you next to Heeseung.

The reaction is unwarranted and even he can’t believe his words came out like that. Jay pays no attention to Sunghoon and Jake, who look at him with quizzical expressions. Jay can only focus on you, with the way your pantsuit hugs your body and the way your high heels make you stand taller than he remembers you. You’re very confident. Jay wonders what must have changed in the time he last saw you until now.

“In the flesh, Park. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Y/N’s the best chance we got to win this against the biggest record label in Korea,” Heeseung interrupts, forcing Jay to push his thoughts aside. “I don’t need to remind you that our clients are high profile names trying to make a case for musicians who can’t afford to pay back the recoupment. If we lose this, we lose their business. It won’t look good for the company if we don’t secure a public win.”

“A public win means a public loss,” you chime in. “Hybe’s settlement deal is bullshit and we all know it.”

“Exactly.” Heeseung points at everyone in the room before landing on you. “I know we don’t ask for outside help but we need Y/N. I trust everyone to make her feel welcomed and to give her anything she needs.”

“It would be an honor,” Jake says before stepping in front of you to bow with his body perpendicular to the floor below him. “Sim Jayeun, but feel free to call me Jake. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He outstretches his hand to you for good measure and is pleased when you reciprocate. His kindness brings a smile to your face.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Jake. I look forward to working together.” The aforementioned nearly falters in his movements as he takes a step back, hearing Sunghoon snickering behind him before you turn your attention to him. “You must be Park Sunghoon. I’ve kept up with your work for a while now. Your work with Kim Mingyu against General Motors was impressive.”

“All in a day’s work,” Sunghoon says as he brushes his shoulders for dramatic effect. “I’m honored that you know about it.”

“You saved Mingyu’s reputation for being a whistleblower and forced the company’s hand to not only change their flawed design, but to pay out the victims. You bled that company dry in the process to compensate for the casualties. That’s something worth talking about,” you tell him. “It’s impressive to me.”

Jay swears he sees Sunghoon blush.

“Thank you,” says the latter, clearing his throat. “It means a lot that you said that.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been either.”

Your eyes move towards Jay and he expects to see nothing short of a scowl painted on your lips because the last time he saw you, he remembers Jung Iseul asked him if he loved you in front of thirty of your classmates.

Jay said no.

He regrets how he handled it. He wishes he could turn back time and tell Iseul and her friends to leave you alone, and tell her the way she acted was nothing short of childish. Jay would like to believe he’d pull you away from wandering eyes and hold you until your eyes were dry if he was able to turn back time and relive that awful moment, but he can’t. The memory of you looking at him with betrayal in your eyes is what keeps him up at night.

Jay thought of his own needs before yours, selfishly acting to protect himself from the embarrassment of a public confession instead of thinking about how humiliating it must’ve been for you. Your classmates were never the nicest and often commented on your quiet and shy demeanor. Jay always tried to do his best to encourage you to be the best version of yourself, growing silently frustrated that you’d allow people to say harsh things about your skill sets instead of proving them wrong. What he failed to realize is that you’d grow into yourself at your own time.

You're not the timid girl you used to be. Jay sees the fruits of your labor standing in front of him.

When you look at him, Jay’s breath catches in his throat. It’s been years since he last saw you in person and he can only imagine what you must be thinking. Are you seething? Are you angry? Are you here for revenge? Do you still think about that night as frequently as he does?

Any thoughts of you being spiteful are thrown out the window when he hears you speak in that same, soft tone you always reserved for him.

“Hi, Jay.”

He’s quiet for a second too long because he sees Heeseung glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

“Hey.” Jay says pathetically, shifting from one foot to another. “Long time no see.”

“Woah, wait. Do you two know each other?” Jake asks, pointing between the two of you.

“We shared a few classes in law school,” you explain. “We even graduated in the same year.”

“Oh, wow.”

You tilt your head as you look at him. “You seem surprised.” “I’m just shocked that you two know each other,” Jake says. “You have the highest closing rate in all of Seoul and you’re telling me you went to law school with my boss?”

“I’m trying not to take offense to that,” says Jay, who furrows his eyebrows. The atmosphere is too much for his liking and suddenly he feels as if his tie is too tight around his neck.

“We knew each other a long time ago, but it’s always nice to see a familiar face.” You smile at Jay before turning to Heeseung. “When do I start?”

“Whenever you’d like, but knowing you, you’ve already begun drafting strategies.”

You grin. “You know me very well, Heeseung.”

“Y/N will be working from our office a few times a week for the next few months to make things easier. She’ll still be handling cases from her firm with an emphasis on the Hybe lawsuit.”

“Thank you for welcoming me,” you tell everyone before looking at Heeseung. “Care to show me to my temporary office?”

He smiles. “Right this way.”

“It was lovely meeting you all,” you say before turning to leave. You pause and turn to face Jay. “It really is nice to see you again.”

He stands in his spot at a loss for words. It feels as if his feet are planted on the ground with no way to make him move. His mouth might as well be hung open with the way he stares at you and merely nods. Speaking makes him feel like he’s going to choke and say the wrong thing, so he opts to say nothing.

You exit behind Heeseung without sparing him a second glance and he watches as your figure disappears around the corner, listening until he can’t hear the sound of your voice speaking with Heeseung. His hands are planted firmly in his pocket, the fabric of his suit providing a distraction from the sudden notion of seeing you after all these years.

He feels Jake and Sunghoon looking at him from the side. Sunghoon merely walks past Jay and offers a pat on the shoulder while Jake enthusiastically stands from his seat and bounces with excitement.

“You know Kim Y/N? The Kim Y/N?”

“It was a long time ago,” Jay says with a small voice. “We used to be study partners.”

“No fucking way,” Jake swears with his hands on his hips. “How come you never told me? She’s like, one of the most respected lawyers in all of Asia. Did you hear about her work on that Cheong-Smith case back in New York? God knows how tedious working between America and Korea must’ve been. She’s so fucking cool, Jongseong. A badass is what she is. I want to be her one day.”

Jay’s mouth quirks in a half smile. He knows you’ve built a reputation but refuses to read about you in the newspaper or listen to conversation where your name has been brought up. It brings painful memories and no matter how much he chastises himself for being in the wrong, part of him can’t help but hurt and yearn for you.

If Jake notices Jay’s quiet demeanor, he doesn’t acknowledge it. The former is pacing in Heeeung’s office with his hands rubbing his face as if he’s won the lottery. Jay’s envious of Jake’s ignorance, in a way. He wishes he could forget that night and re-do his friendship with you. Jay wishes he could meet the person you are now if that means rejecting you in front of your classmates never happened.

“Y/N’s a great lawyer,” Jay finally says. “I’m glad she’ll be working with us.”

“So fucking cool,” Jake whispers in disbelief. He turns to Jay. “I can show her around the office and, you know, show her the ropes.”

“Don’t try anything.”

Jake puts his arms up in mock surrender. “Hey man, I won’t. Y/N’s someone I view as a mentor. I don’t have weird, unresolved romantic feelings like you do.”

Jay opens his mouth in disbelief as Jake winks at him before walking out of Heeseung’s office. He sits with his thoughts and wonders if this meeting was a figment of his imagination and if he’d wake up with you halfway across the world and his life being as normal as it can be.

But he sees you enter your own private space when he walks to the break room and tries not to stare at you too long. It wouldn't be good for his health.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

“This office is pretty nice.”

Your jaw nearly drops at the sight before you. The tall windows overlooking the city boasts a beautiful skyline with pedestrians barely visible from where you stand. The carpeted floor is plush against the click of your heels and the temperature in the room is just warm enough for you to set your suit jacket atop the armrest of the brown leather couch.

“It used to be mine before I became the managing partner,” Heeseung tells you.

“I see. That must be why I like the interior design.”

Coming back to Seoul six months ago wasn’t your idea. But your visa in America had expired and there was no legitimate reason for you to extend your time abroad. With a heavy heart, you packed your bags and returned to the city with unfavorable memories you hoped to put behind you.

However, it seems that life finds a way to throw you a curveball and make you face your fears. Returning to Seoul wasn’t for the faint of heart. The familiar sounds of people walking and talking in the street and the scent of street food vendors warmed your heart as best as it could. The memories of your childhood summers spent frolicking in the city because your parents were too busy pursuing their dreams to entertain yours will forever remain a tasteless memory. The sound of squeaky wheels on vendor carts is bittersweet.

Upon returning, you’d taken a couple of weeks to settle into a new apartment just a few towns outside of the city. The modest apartment is nothing like the penthouse you rented in New York. The amenities were appealing at first, with the tall ceilings and marble statues adorning each room. The affluent neighborhood you lived in felt familiar from your childhood days, although feeling at home wasn’t something you think you could ever do if you lived in a house made of glass.

The mental images of running inside your parents’ gargantuan household with them nowhere to be seen is imprinted in your mind when you close your eyes. Your mother’s office door that always remained closed and uninviting to anyone but your father and older brother felt demoralizing, as did your father’s study, which was never to be entered. The large house felt more like a fortress than a home. The empty hallways with no one to converse with felt like a prison with your bedroom being your only sanctuary.

The two bedroom apartment in a modest neighborhood outside of Seoul feels like home to you. The neighbors who garden when it’s warm out and retreat on rainy days feel like friends rather than people you live next to. The children on their way to school wave at you before work and make you promise not to work too late, which is likely why you leave your office at a reasonable hour. If you bring your work home with you and hide behind your curtains as you pretend to watch TV, that’s nobody’s business but your own.

You jumped at the idea of leaving Seoul as you approached your second year in your law career. The idea of exploring a new country in a language you half-spoke felt more exciting than horrifying. Knowing your mentor had recommended you for the apprenticeship served as the encouragement you needed to pack your belongings and say goodbye to your friends, family, and life as you knew it.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you were running away from your childhood and the wound Jay had opened when he left you alone in front of your classmates.

That hurtful memory reopened itself when Kazuha pitched the idea of working with Lee & Associates on this case. The both of you know you’re her top choice to fight this battle given your brother’s notable status and area of expertise. Your relation to your sibling is a secret you keep close to yourself with only a select few people in your life knowing, preferring to keep yourself out of the limelight as best as you can.

Yet the idea of working with Jay made these unresolved feelings bloom at the surface when you thought you had locked them in a box and threw the key away. The sleepless nights were just shy of affecting your work. Day after day, you’d stare at the Hybe Records file to see what information had been gathered, glossing over Jay’s name on each document and each email that was forwarded to your inbox. It hurt over and over again, just like it did when he left you standing alone, never to return.

But life never works out the way you want it to. Coming back to Seoul was for the best and facing old enemies and seeing old friends is part of your path. Having the grace to prepare yourself makes you reflect on how much you’ve grown in the years you spent away from Korea and that you’re ready to move past the hurdle that’s been keeping you tied down for so long. Or so you tell yourself.

Heeseung knocks his shoulders with yours. “You don’t seem as shocked to see Jay as I thought you’d be.”

“I had a few weeks to prepare,” you tell him as the two of you face the scenery in front. “When Kazuha told me I was her first choice to work this lawsuit, I saw Jay’s name sitting at the top of the file.”

“It’s his case, technically. But we all know you’ll outshine him in one way or another.”

You shake your head. “I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes, Heeseung. I’m just here to do my job.”

“And see an old friend, I’d assume.” This time, you knock your shoulders against his.

“Oh, you know it’s always good to see you when I’m on this side of town.”

Heeseung smiles, pleased. “I know it’s been a while since the two of you have seen each other and I hope you know that you weren’t picked for any dubious reasons.”

“I know, Hee.” The man looks at you, tilting his head to assess the true intentions behind your words. “Seriously, I’m fine.”

“This company would have benefitted from your work,” he replies. “Still, I’m sorry for how things worked out.”

“That was ages ago,” you wave off. “You really don’t need to apologize for it. I appreciate you fighting to hire me, but Jay has done a wonderful job and you can’t deny that.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, I really can’t. He’s one of my best. One of the best lawyers in Korea, I’d argue.”

“What does that make me?” you joke.

“It makes you the best in the universe.”

You throw a fond smile Heeseung’s way. “It really is nice to see you again.”

“I meant it when I said you could reach out for anything.

“Most days, I just need a friend.”

Heeseung quirks an eyebrow. “Is that why you text me photos of you baking at three in the morning?”

“Precisely. What else would I text you about?”

The man laughs. “I love the ones where your cat sits on the counter to watch. I love Gerry.”

“For the love of God, Heeseung. Her name is Miso.”

“Yeah, but your cat is orange like a tangerine and in my head, Gerry, is a cute nickname for tangerine.”

“You need to re-evaluate your definition of cute.”

Heeseung smiles at you fondly and tilts his head. He knows he’s looking at a version of you no one in Seoul has seen before. The new person standing before him is confident in herself and her capabilities, no longer shying away from the spotlight. The person you are now could look him in the eye and call him an equal, unlike when you were an emerging teenager dealing with peer pressure and hormonal acne.

“Your mom calls mine from time to time, you know,” Heeseung says after a short pause.

You snort. “Oh God. Please don’t tell me Lee Jiwoo cares about what my mother, of all people, has to say.”

He shrugs. “She doesn’t, but they were neighbors for forty years before my parents moved. I think your mom has some weird attachment to the past.”

“You’re telling me,” you say as you roll your eyes. “I remember as kids, she’d force me to go over to your house with the hopes that we’d fall in love and get married someday.”

Heeseung laughs. “God, you were so hung up on Lee Seokmin that you barely paid attention to me.”

“If I recall correctly, you were head over heels with Kang Ara and that made you a lovesick fool. Who knew you were into older women?”

“She was nice enough to help me with my homework, okay?” Heeseung defends himself as he laughs.

Recounting childhood memories with you feels warm. When you’d left Seoul in pursuit of a career in America, Heeseung knew you were running away from your problems rather than facing them. He grew up seeing the harsh reality that was strict parents who placed too high of a standard on you whereas your older brother remained unharmed by their lashings and expectations.

Heeseung always chided the way his friends would tease him when he walked you home from school or offered to make room for you in his house when your parents were home. He’d witnessed the volatile relationship between the three of you and offered his household as a sanctuary for as long as he could. Heeseung’s parents offered the kind of hospitality he wished you could receive from your own parents.

Still, it feels warm to know you chose to return. Seeing you in your element makes Heeseung think he must’ve done something right all those years ago, even if you briefly lost touch when you moved overseas.

“I’m really grateful for you, Hee.” You lean your head on his shoulder and cross your arms in front of your chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for being so nice to me when we were kids. You were always so popular with the girls and every guy wanted to be you. I know people made fun of me when we’d walk home from school together. Knowing you defended me and made me feel like a normal person despite my relationship with my parents makes me feel happy.”

“I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?” Heeseung asks. He feels you nod against him. “It killed me to see you fight with your parents and I didn’t care that Han Bora got jealous of you or that Choi Youngchul made fun of me for having a girl around. You were more than that to me.”

“I love my brother, I really do.” You bite your lip to keep a sigh at bay. “But he’ll never understand how my parents treated me. I know he loves me and I know he did everything he could to protect me when we were younger, but he still reaped the benefits from our parents.”

“No apology from them can outdo everything you went through,” Heeseung says. He leans his head on top of yours. “You were my best friend, even if I didn’t say that to you. Everyone at school wanted to be my friend because I went puberty faster than everyone else but you always treated me as the same kid who got a bloody nose after falling face first on the pavement.”

Heeseung smiles when he hears you laugh. “I told you to tie your shoe laces.”

“SInce when do I listen to what you say?”

You pull yourself from him. “Thanks for always being there for me, Hee. I hope you know I’ll work my hardest to win this case.”

A knock at the door brings both of your attention behind you. Jake stands politely and bows his head as he enters when Heeseung beckons him inside.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Jake says carefully.

“Not at all,” Heeseung assures. “Is there something you need?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could give Y/N a tour of the office. I’d love to show her around so she feels more comfortable and familiar.”

“That’s a great idea, Jake.” Heeseung turns to you. “Why don’t you settle in and make yourself at home for an hour, yeah? Let Jake take you to the cafe that’s across the street and use my company card to pay for it.”

“I’ll never say no to you paying.” Heeseung rolls his eyes at your playful banter but hands you his credit card regardless. Seeing you this open with him warms his heart.

“We won’t be long,” Jake assures.

Jay approaches where the three of you are standing and busies himself in the bullpen when he notices you and Jake walking out of the office. Pretending to be intensely reading a document about finance, Jay prays you don’t see him and waits until the two of you are out of sight to walk towards Heeseung.

His footsteps feel heavy as he enters what is to be assumed, your office.

“I already know what you’re thinking,” says Heeseung with his hands in his pockets.

“Then you know I’m going to ask you what the hell is going on.”

Jay has seen his fair share of hard moments from the man standing in front of him, whether in court or behind closed doors. He knows Heeseung to be someone that mentors by giving tough love and credit where it’s due, playing the role of a fair judge in the name of building a strong career. Jay is no stranger to people being upset with him, least of all Heeseung.

“Do I need to remind you that I'm the managing partner and that I don’t need to consult you on my decisions?”

“You don’t,” Jay begins, “but you know the history I have with Y/N. A little heads up would’ve been nice.”

“We don’t always get a heads up when the stakes are high, Jay. You know that. I tried to be as forthcoming as best as I could but we only heard confirmation a few days ago and you were out of the office preparing for your briefing.”

Jay breathes deeply. “You of all people know we left on bad terms.”

“So you should know that Y/N is like my sister,” Heeseung retorts. Jay can hear the slight venom in his elder’s tone. “I’m able to set aside my differences because it’s my job to do so and because I like you.”

“Heeseung–”

“Have you ever stopped to consider that you’re the only person making this awkward?” Heeseung asks, looking at Jay directly into his eyes. “Nobody else seems to be having any problems with Y/N joining this lawsuit.

“You are one of the best lawyers Korea has ever had the privilege of seeing, Jay. Hell, this company owes you a lot. But you can’t tell me that Y/N being here has affected you this much to the point of coming to talk to me about it in my office.”

Jay remains silent knowing Heeseung’s right, even if his pride refuses to quell.

“You made your choice all those years ago and from the looks of it, Y/N seems to have moved on.” Jay nearly chokes at Heeseung’s words. “You need to move on as well, Jay. Do whatever it is you have to do to get your head straight.”

Jay shuts his eyes for a brief second. “It’s really hard, Heeseung. It’s hard to forget.”

Heeseung’s expression softens. “She’s not seeing anyone.”

Jay abruptly opens his eyes.

“That is not what I meant.”

Heeseung smirks. “Sure it wasn’t.”

“I’m serious, Lee. I just regret how it all went down and I regret not reaching out after graduation. My parents took me abroad for the summer to celebrate. I was so caught up that I didn’t make time for Y/N.”

“You can still make time for her now.”

Jay shakes his head. “It’s too late. I’d bet anything to know she hates me.”

“Well, I know for a fact that she doesn’t. If we’re talking about the same Y/N you and I both knew all of those years ago, then you know she doesn’t hold grudges.”

“But we know she can.” Jay sighs. “You know about her parents.”

“Two people bringing her into this world just to treat her like nothing is far different than a boy not calling her back.” Jay tries to not take his comment to heart no matter how much it stings. “The difference between you and them is that you have the chance to make this right and correct your wrongs.

“But let me make myself clear. You are to work with Y/N and make her feel welcomed during her time on this case. I don’t care how you do it as long as your head is clear and you can work beside her without letting your feelings get in the way.”

“Understood.”

Heeseung’s expression softens. “You know I care about you, man. I wouldn’t have agreed to be your mentor if I didn’t think you were worth it.”

Jay nods. “I know. I just forgot that you two knew each other as well.”

“You should’ve seen Y/N back when she was in middle school. Still as timid as she was in law school but still the kindhearted person we know.”

Jay tries to picture what you were like as a child. He’s seen photos of you from preschool until the day you graduated college and wonders if you were the same shy, timid girl he knew you to be before the two of you parted ways. Would you two have been friends in elementary school? What kind of foods did you like to eat? Did you have a happy childhood?

He knows the answer is complicated. Jay’s assumption is that your parents, who happen to manage the biggest law firm in Korea through defending oil companies, did not value you as much as they valued your older brother. He, who was their prized possession, often tried to pull you into the spotlight with him. Jay remembers you talking about him fondly like he hung the moon in your night sky. It brought him a sense of peace to know there was someone always looking out for you when you were younger.

After all, your brother was the only form of family who came to your graduation during law school.

Jay remembers him standing tall, clad in a mask and clothing that made him unrecognizable. He blended in with the crowd and made himself seem smaller than he actually was in order to remain undetectable by people who weren’t you. Jay always wondered why you were hellbent on keeping your brother’s identity a secret and why you refused to share photos of him despite having shown him other pictures of you in your youth, but it made sense once Jay saw him pull the mask down and smile for a picture.

He knows he doesn’t deserve to ask you how your brother has been or what you’ve been up to since he last saw you all those years ago. Jay feels a lump grow in his throat when he thinks about working with you and having to talk to you about the case against Hybe. He wants to, and he wants to build a relationship with you that doesn’t result in him panicking when you look into his eyes, but he doesn’t know where to start.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Heeseung advises when he notices Jay growing quiet. “You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jay says with a sigh. “You weren’t the one who broke her heart.”

“Y/N’s resilient. You and I both know the lengths she went through as a kid and how successful she is now. She wouldn’t have taken this case if she wasn’t willing to work with you. That should be a sign in itself.”

Jay takes Heeseung’s words into consideration, but it goes through one ear and then out the other. His heart won’t stop beating at a rapid pace and he can’t help but feel like there’s no hope for him at all.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung seems to know you too well.

The cafe across the street speaks to your soul with their delicious drinks and delectable pastry menu. You buy something for Jake on Heeseung’s card too. He merely looks at you with wide eyes and stutters over his words when he asks if you’re allowed to do that, to which you wave him off and say you’ve known Heeseung far too long for him to care about another fifteen dollars missing from the company funds.

“How long have you known Heeseung?” Jake asks as he takes a sip of his drink. The two of you sit cross from one another, basking in the atmosphere of the lunch rush hour.

“Our whole lives, practically. I think his parents moved next to mine way before either of us were born. They always joked that we’d get married and have that fairytale ending.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Is that still happening?”

“God no,” you say, shaking your head. “Heeseung is like a brother to me. He’d walk me to and from school when we were younger and hung out with me, back when I was a timid mess.”

“I don’t think I could ever imagine you as shy.” Jake blushes when he realizes he’s speaking candidly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Pray tell.”

“W-Well,” Jake stutters, “it’s just that, people talk and I know you know that. I’ve heard people brag about what an amazing attorney you are and how you dominate the courtroom. Or, you know, even the opposite, when people would tell me sob stories about losing to you.”

You stifle a laugh. “I’d like to think I’ve come a long way since law school. I don’t know if Jay’s ever told you, but I used to be very quiet. I kept to myself a lot. I didn’t have enough confidence to talk in class and panicked every time I was picked for a cold answer.”

Jake shudders. “I hated that. I was somebody who always came prepared to class but being put on the spot made me feel like I didn’t read the material at all.”

“Confidence comes with practice,” you tell him. “This job has built my self esteem, especially when I moved to New York for a few years. I didn’t speak English very well, just bits and pieces from music I grew up listening to and because my brother is fluent as well.”

“Do your parents speak English?”

You shake your head. “Broken English. My brother’s a special case. He listened to a lot of rap music behind our parents’ backs and dedicated so much time into learning how to rap in English that he became fluent. He was obsessed with the show Friends, too. I picked up after him.”

“Your brother seems like a cool guy.”

You smile into your cup. “Yeah, he is. He’s part of the reason why I took this case against Hybe Records. It feels right to fight for the underdog, you know?”

“Jay says the same thing,” Jake tells you. It makes your heart twinge. “He’s been my mentor for the past year and I don’t think I could ever thank him for taking me under his wing. I’m sure you know–he’s the type of guy to be fair and just. I never feel like he’s looking down on me, even when I royally screw up and he has to fix my messes.”

“He used to be really good at talking me down a ledge in law school,” you laugh. “I used to get so hot headed and frustrated every time I couldn't understand a brief or when I’d read for too long. Jay was always the calmer one between the two of us. He’d tell me to take a breath–”

“–and take it easy,” Jake finishes with you. You smile.

“Yeah, that. I still think about him saying that to me when times get tough. Jay was a big reason why I even graduated law school in the first place.”

“I thought you graduated at the top of your class?”

“He and I held equal rank,” you explain. “But mostly, he helped me see the bigger picture, you know? Jay always put my goals into perspective and reminded me why I wanted to become a lawyer in the first place.”

“Why did you?”

You set your cup down. “It feels right to help other people in ways that can’t be seen. No one talks about financial burden or responsibility. I had more than enough privilege growing up and it’s unfair that the rest of the world will never experience that kind of safety. If I can provide some kind of comfort for people going through tough times, who am I to deny them that?”

Jake nods. “I understand. I didn’t grow up in a legacy family myself and it makes me feel better knowing there are good people like you who pursued law. I guess that’s also why I wanted to become an attorney. I want to help people and this is the best way I know how.”

“Does Heeseung still make you guys take on two pro bono cases every year?”

“Three now,” Jake corrects. “But I don’t mind it that much. I love meeting new people and it makes me happy when we secure a win for them.”

“This job has brought me out of my comfort zone and has made me feel more confident while doing it. I owe a lot of that to Jay and Heeseung.”

“I’d love to learn from you,” Jake says honestly. “Even if it’s watching you in depositions or preparing case files. I feel like I could learn a thing or two.”

“I’d love that, Jake.”

He smiles. “I still can’t believe you knew Jay in law school. What was he like? I’ll bet he still had the same, brooding glare when he’s focused.”

“I think that was part of his charm,” you say with a fond smile. “Girls loved him. I mean sure, he came from a powerful family, but I think people were digging the whole ‘I-Don’t-Want-To-Talk-To-You’ vibe.”

“So how did you two end up becoming friends?”

“We sat next to each other in our criminal law class and he was struggling with a few cases,” you explain. “I excelled in criminal law while he excelled in intellectual property, which was a subject I needed help in, and we formed a study partnership in our second year.

“I couldn’t really tell you how we got as close as we did, though. We met in the library a few times a week before realizing being in a quiet environment made us too tired to read. We’d find coffee shops all over town and would end our study sessions with a late night dinner before parting ways.”

“That does sound like the Jay I know,” Jake laughs. “I don’t think I’ve seen him go home before the sun goes down.”

“Everyone knew how diligent he was with his work. He was always so confident in class when answering questions from our professor. I’m pretty sure everyone was intrigued by him. Jay mostly kept to himself until he and I became friends.”

“I can totally imagine Jay being a lone wolf.”

You laugh. “He was, kind of. We started hanging out without the premise of studying shortly after. He was probably my closest friend at the time.”

Jake can see a lingering thought behind your eyes but chooses not to comment, instead checking his watch for the time.

“Oh, we should probably be getting back soon. I’ll show you around the floor so you can get situated before you work.”

“That would be great, Jake. Thank you for volunteering to do so.”

On the walk back to the office, your steps become heavier as the reality of your present sets in. Jay, a former crush and confidant, sits just out of arm’s reach.

You replay the night in your head when Iseul had cornered the two of you at the local dive bar with the rest of your classmates upon celebrating the last final days of law school before graduation. At that time, everyone had received final offers from recruiters and were placed in law firms across Korea, yourself included.

It hurt to know that there was competition with Jay to join Lee & Associates, and that he was the chosen candidate. It hurt more to know that Jay couldn’t bring himself to reject you in private.

Iseul’s smile burns in your memory when you recall the way Jay walked away from you. Her wicked grin has etched itself into your mind, especially when you close your eyes. Time and distance has been kind to you, especially knowing she had moved from firm to firm because of negligence on her part, but you reckon there will always be a part of you that will remain standing in that dive bar feeling like no one would be willing to catch you as you fell.

That sadness planted deep seeds of distrust within you. That melancholy feeling followed you throughout the summertime, especially when Jay didn’t make the effort to call you during the summer that followed graduation.

It felt beautiful to be wanted by someone as kind and generous as Jay. It felt just as wonderful to be wanted by someone who you considered to be sought after. The brooding, quiet boy everyone thought to be mysterious had an energetic, talkative personality if you got to know him well enough. It was no wonder that you developed a crush on him towards the end of your second year in law school together.

When you think about it now, it must’ve been sickening to watch you follow Jay around like a lost puppy. You certainly felt like it from time to time. The two of you only shared one class in your final year together but stuck by each other for study sessions nonetheless. Jay was always more popular out of the two of you, always knowing people who passed him by and waving at other law students. It made you feel like you had to live up to a certain expectation and to branch out in order to be seen with Jay, but he always made it a point to tell you that it didn’t matter how many friends you had. You were always going to be his favorite.

You’d always considered yourself as an awkward, stuttering mess when it came to making friends. Something about Jay quelled your fears about socializing and playing the part of an extrovert with his calm tone and soothing demeanor. On most days, Jay was the person who encouraged you to relax and let your thoughts run wild before making brash decisions. He was the first person to listen to you talk about the burdens your parents placed on your shoulders without insinuating you had to be grateful for the life that you were born into.

You were. You are. But you aren’t grateful for being neglected and being made to feel like being born was a mistake and a burden.

Jay has seen you at your worst, whether it be tearing up over a low test score or coming back from winter break after a couple of weeks with your family. You’d argue that you’ve been with him at his worst too, having seen Jay cry a few times throughout your friendship from frustration and stress. There was something about your bond that made you believe he trusted you with his heart and soul, and something that made you believe you could trust him too.

The weight of your parents’ actions, coupled in with Jay’s selfishness, made you numb for a while.

His silence and the lack of an apology felt like the ultimate betrayal. You deleted his phone number out of anger when you began your position as a first year associate. You kept your head down and used work to distract yourself from the hollow feeling inside of you, often wondering how Jay was doing at Lee & Associates. It hurt to know you didn’t have a relationship with him where you could tell him about your day and discuss the stress of cases within legal limits. It stung to know he likely didn’t care about you enough to repair the bond after not having called you all summer. Deleting his number, as well as all of the pictures and videos you had of him from your phone, felt like the last straw. Jay was no longer going to be in your life.

It was why choosing to relocate to New York was so easy for you. Physically leaving Jay behind meant running away from everyone who had ever hurt you to start anew in a city where no one knew your name; this was a fresh opportunity to become the confident, carefree person you always yearned to be, the type of person you knew you could be. Having to navigate a new environment in a language you barely spoke strengthened your self confidence and demonstrated your resilience. If you could overcome this, you could overcome anything.

Seeing Jay’s name in the original Hybe Records case file startled you, but it wasn’t as jarring as you thought it would be. You imagined what you would say to him if you ever got the chance to see him in person again. Would there be screaming? Would you cry? Would your throat close and feel like you were choking on your words if Jay were to have acknowledged you in any way?

Would Jay apologize for the night he left you?

The answer, you later found out, was none of the above. Instead, seeing the name ‘Park Jongseong’ caused a flurry of evocative memories to replay in your mind. After years of dealing with the torment of not feeling good enough to keep your loved ones around, the struggle to find who you were in an industry unkind to timid people like you dissipated with every hour spent working. The more you worked, the more you strategized about winning cases. The more cases you won, the more confident you got.

Taking on the case against Hybe records was already a no-brainer for you. Your brother is far too passionate about music to ever forgive you for passing up a case you know so much about. Not even Jay could have deterred you from working on it. Even so, you’re eternally grateful that seeing his name doesn’t bring up unpleasant feelings like it did once before.

Jake brings you out of your thoughts when he opens the front door for you. With a bright smile and your guest badge in your hand, you walk past security without a hitch and take a deep breath before following Jake into the elevator and back to the main floor.

“I think you’ll really like the associates and paralegals,” Jake says to make conversation on the long trip to the fiftieth floor. “Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki are my favorites, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Sunoo’s a first year associate and he’s brilliant,” Jake explains. “He’s quick on his feet and he’s quite bubbly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited to be awake at eight in the morning like he is. Jungwon’s our best parasocial as well. He’s incredibly smart and quick-thinking, and he’s thinking of studying to take the entrance exam to enter law school, actually.”

“Oh wow,” you say with a nod. “That’s incredible. His experience as a paralegal will definitely prepare him for that.”

“I think so too,” Jake agrees. “Riki’s our legal intern for the summer. He’s passionate about his work and really funny. He’s got a natural charm to him, even if his resting face makes him look unapproachable. You’ll like him.”

“If Heeseung trusts you, then I trust you,” you tell Jake, stepping out of the elevator.

“Speaking of Sunoo,” Jake mumbles as he expedites his pace to catch up with the brunette. “Sunoo, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Kim Y/N,” Sunoo says with a perpendicular bow. “An honor to meet you, truly. I’m Kim Sunoo”

You reciprocate. “I appreciate your kindness, Sunoo.”

“He’ll probably scream about you bowing to him in the break room,” Jake laughs. Sunoo swats his arm.

“Yah. Maybe if you were half as cool as Y/N, I’d scream about you in the break room.”

Jake pouts before smiling. “I was just telling Y/N how you’re one of my favorite first year associates.”

“He spoke quite highly of you. I heard that you’ll be assisting on the Hybe case with us?”

“If at all possible!” Sunoo exclaims. “I wouldn’t want to overstep.”

“Nonsense,” you say as you wave him off. “I’m sure Heeseung will talk to you about this sooner or later. I saw your name on the file when he and I spoke earlier. I have a feeling we’ll be working together quite often, Kim Sunoo.”

The aforementioned blushes. “That would be amazing.”

“We’ll see you later,” Jake says as the two of you wave goodbye. “See what I mean? He’s a ball of sunshine but his bite is definitely worse than his bark. Sunoo’s incredible when it comes to reading clients to absolute filth.”

“He seems sweet,” you say with a pout. “Who else am I meeting again?”

“Jungwon!” Jake shouts as he knocks on the glass door with the title ‘YANG JUNGWON | PARALEGAL.’

The boy looks up and rolls his eyes before registering you standing behind Jake. You hear him clear his throat and fix his posture before standing, beckoning the two of you into his office.

“Sorry,” Jungwon apologizes with a bow. “I’m sure that, by now, you know how loud Jake can be.”

Jake merely laughs. “It’s because I like you, Wonie.”

Jungwon faces you. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jungwon, your resident paralegal. Let me know if you ever need anything and I’d be happy to help!”

“Jungwon’s the best paralegal Lee & Associates,” Jake tells you. “It’s why he’s the only paralegal that has his own office.”

“Anyway,” Jungwon says, hiding a blush from Jake’s compliments, “this is my second year with the company and I know it like the back of my hand. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything.”

“That’s really sweet of you to say, Jungwon, thank you.”

“Anything for a friend of Jay and Heeseung!”

“We’ll probably come back to you before the day ends,” Jake says to the younger boy. “Is Riki still on his lunch break or is he in the bullpen?”

“He got back a few minutes ago.”

“Sweet,” Jake says. “Let’s go meet the rascal.”

Riki and Jake have a closer bond than you expected, with the younger boy greeting his elder with a bright smile and a handshake they seem to have perfected. He turns to you and listens as Jake introduces the two of you before he bows politely.

“Riki’s from Japan but chose to study here in Korea. He and Jungwon want to take the LSAT together,” says Jake.

“あなたは日本語を話していると思います？” you ask him. I assume you speak Japanese?

Riki’s face beams.

“はい、そうです,” he says. Yes, that’s right. ?どこでそれを話せるようになったのですか” Where did you learn to speak it?

“私は高校で学びました。しかし、もっと練習が必要です.” I learned back in high school. I need a more practice, though.

Riki smiles and shakes his head. “Your Japanese is perfect.”

“Ah, you flatter me too much.” “That was so fucking cool,” Jake says. “You speak Korean, English, and Japanese?”

“Add in a little bit of Spanish and we’re golden.”

“You’re officially the coolest person in this goddamn office.”

“I hope our paths cross before your work here is done,” Riki says with another bow. “I need to get back to work, unfortunately.”

“Please, don’t let me keep you!” Riki smiles at you once again before disappearing into another office. “You're right, I really do like him.”

Jake smiles and points across the room. “The break room is just around the corner and is always filled with coffee, tea, and other snacks. The secretaries at the front of the floor make sure it’s stocked to the brim but if anything is missing, just ask. They’re usually happy to replenish.”

“Good to know.”

“Do you need anything else from me or are you ready to win this goddamn case?”

You smile.

“Let’s win this goddamn case.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

In the two weeks that have passed by, Jay still hasn't mustered up the courage to speak to you.

Beyond a polite greeting when the two of you cross paths in the morning, Jay can barely smile at you without his heartbeat betraying him. His chest starts to tighten and his tie feels too tight around his neck when you look into his eyes. If you look deep enough, Jay is sure you see all of the regret he’s harbored for so many years.

Heeseung has had to tell him to get a grip twice already. Jay isn’t slacking at his job as much as he thought he would. But if his mentor and dear friend could notice how awkward he was acting around you, Jay was sure you could sense it too.

In truth, Jay doesn’t know how to talk to you. He’s never felt pain like this before. He yearns to hear your voice speaking to him and to converse like once before, but he doesn’t know how to. This obstacle causes pain within Jay, and he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to say more than a sentence to you before your time with him is over.

Watching you talk freely with his colleagues is foreign to him. Jay can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re much more confident than you were back when he knew you. The same girl who couldn’t go a few sentences without looking at her shoes is holding eye contact and smiling after she speaks. You don’t cower over your body in an attempt to make yourself look like you’re hiding in your shell. Now, you speak with assertion and hold your chin level with the floor as you hold conversation.

It’s jarring, but a large part of Jay can’t help but feel proud of you. If there’s one thing he knew you wished for back in law school, it was to grow your self esteem. Having parents who belittle your dreams and spoke pathetically about your life choices didn’t leave room for you to understand what liking yourself looked like. The accolades and achievements your parents were bestowed with felt unnatural when you knew it was only a matter of time before they had something negative to say. As attorneys themselves, defending oil companies who don’t care about oil spills in the ocean or bribing employees to keep a quiet mouth about misfortunes never felt like confidence to you. It was cowardice.

Seeing your parents in magazines with a perfect picture smile never made you want to emulate them in any capacity. They look like dolls, playing the role of hardworking attorneys and devoted parents until they cross the threshold of your home, letting the mask fall to the floor. Their confidence felt brazen. They didn’t deserve to be your role models.

Yet, here you are.

Jay doesn’t notice that he’s been staring at you from his office door until Sunghoon knocks his shoulder with his own.

“Quit staring unless you want to look like a creep.”

Jay clears his throat. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Sure,” Sunghoon smirks. “And I don’t handle the majority of our finances.” Jay rolls his eyes.

“I know what you’re gonna say and you don’t need to say it. I know I need to talk to Y/N.”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“I know, Hoon,” Jay says. He spares one more glance at you before looking away. “But it’s hard to try when I don’t think I deserve any respect or forgiveness.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it’s obvious that something did happen by how tense you are when she’s around.”

“Am I really that bad?”

Sunghoon nods. “Y/N can tell. She keeps looking at you when you walk away.”

“Shit,” Jay curses.

“Whatever happened back then was a long time ago. I obviously don’t know her as well as you do, but she’s been a great asset to the team since she joined. She blends well with everybody and leaves her office door open most of the time. Y/N talks to the associates and interns when she’s taking breaks. She wouldn’t do all of that if she wasn’t willing to talk to you.”

Deep down, Jay knows his friend is right. But it’s hard to convince himself to talk to you when he pictured the agony on your face before he turned around and left you by yourself with the wolves. It makes his heart lurch from left to right. This feeling only quells when you’re out of sight and when he’s distracted with his work.

“Try,” Sunghoon says. “I know it’s scary, but the universe put her right back in your life for a season.”

“I know,” Jay says quietly. “Thanks, Sunghoon.”

“Anytime.”

Sunghoon leaves and Jay fixes his posture, pushing his shoulders back twice in a row. Jay still thinks you are the most beautiful and selfless person he’s ever seen. Looking at you makes him feel like a small volcano has ruptured within his heart and the cage that once kept his adoration for you hostage no longer keeps him in the dark. Jay isn’t the insecure young adult he was when he knew you. Even he is more sure of himself.

Jay thinks you look gorgeous now that you’re smiling more. He remembers all the times he used to take candid photos of you during impromptu moments and the squeals of discomfort you echoed when he would try to take a picture. You used to cover your mouth or shy away from the camera as if you were too embarrassed to be caught. But the way you’re smiling to his colleagues and how animated your conversations are seem to make his heart swell to see how far you’ve come.

Working alongside you in the time that he has makes Jay observant. He’s been in a room with you plenty of times, whether it be for an internal meeting or sessions where each attorney looks through files of documents. You’re still the diligent and hardworking person you were all those years ago. You still tap your pen quietly over the stack of papers and you still like to eat sweets when you’re in the thick of it. When he sees you like this, Jay begins to recall all of the nights spent in the library studying for an exam or rushing to finish an essay before the submit date. Seeing you harbor the same habits you did in law school makes his heart warm.

For as awkward as it is, Jay is glad that he gets to see you as successful as you are. He always pictured the two of you as lifelong friends back when he knew you for six months. You were reliable and honest, loyal to your core, and passionate about your work and hobbies. He loved to hear you talk because it demonstrated your confidence when the two of you were together. Jay would reckong that he’d fly a great distance if you asked him to have a conversation with him.

He loved seeing you switch on for him. One look at you and you were smiling with your eyes closed. Jay adored the way you’d laugh every time he said something mildly embarrassing or the way you would subtly blush whenever he got up early enough to buy you something from the cafe near his apartment. Jay knew he made you flustered from time to time and it brought him great joy to see you look at him like you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

When he made the executive decision not to call you three months after graduating, Jay wondered if it was cruel of him to revel in the way you reacted to him. His heart felt lighter when you smiled at him while making eye contact. He didn't mind carrying your purse when the two of you hung out or remaining the more sober of the two whenever he drank with you. It felt so natural to look after you like that despite not having many people in his life to do that for. It gave Jay a sense of purpose to do so, going as far as to seek for you when you weren’t with him.

He always felt selfish for teasing you with the purpose of seeing that shy smile and seeing you look away from him in an attempt to stop laughing. You looked so beautiful when you were bashful, so humble too. Jay prayed for borrowed time because seeing you between classes wasn’t enough. He always thought you were too cool to hang out with him no matter what other people said because you had a million passions and could talk his ear off about everything and nothing at the same time.

Realistically, Jay knows he can talk to you whenever he wants to. You’ve been mad at him before and have done days without talking to him, but when he took the time to reflect and apologize to you the way you deserved, you always let him back into your hold. Jay knows he has the opportunity to strike up a conversation since you both have been working together for a couple of weeks. He knows you won’t dismiss him.

But when he sees you laughing with Sunoo and Jungwon in the bullpen from his office, he can’t help but think about just how little he knows about you and how much you don’t know about him. Jay knows it’s his fault since he put the distance between the two of you. Yet here you are, talking to people he’s known for years like you’ve known them all your life.

Jay can talk to you, but it won’t be today.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Luck is (or isn’t) on his side when the two of you jump into each other while trying to open the door to the cafe across the street from the law office.

Regretfully, Jay wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking, as his nose was buried deep in an email he was reading as he motioned to pull the door open. It was then he realized he’d bumped into someone. It took him a few seconds to register he had humped into you.

“Oh,” you say, startled.

“Shit,” Jay curses. “I’m sorry. I, uh, wasn’t watching where I was going.” He pockets his phone. “I should really start doing that.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have coffee in my hands,” you say with a laugh. “It’s fine, Jay.”

You let him pull the door open for you after he corrects himself. With his head, he gestures for you to enter first and you give a polite smile as a silent thank you. Jay forces himself not to audibly sigh behind you, instead choosing to glance at the ceiling and pray he doesn’t say anything stupid.

He meets you at the cashier line and notices what you’re wearing. Your forest green dress hugs you in a respectable way, contouring to the ridges of your body. The color looks gorgeous against your skin tone, as does the color of your jewelry. Your coat is dangling from your arms and your hair is styled in a way that makes you look almost glamorous.

“You look stunning.”

To his horror, you look back and catch him looking at you.

“Thank you,” he hears you say after a long pause. Jay feels his cheeks reddening.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “That was weird, wasn’t it?”

He’s surprised when you shake your head.

“Not weird at all. I bought this dress and took the tag off prematurely. I wore it today so I could get use out of it since I’d spent so much money on it, so I’m glad someone likes it.”

That same, shy smile adorns your face. But this time, you aren’t looking away from him. That makes Jay’s heart flutter and for once, he feels like he’s got a shot at making things right with you.

“You really do look stunning,” Jay tells you as he looks you directly in the eye. He doesn’t dare let his gaze wander.

Before either of you can say anything, the cashier is waving you towards the counter. He doesn’t think twice about pulling his wallet out and hanging it to the employee behind the counter when you finish ordering, quickly saying his own order before smiling at you.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” you tell him.

“I know,” he says with a meek smile. “But let me, yeah?”

You don’t fight him on it, namely because the employee has already used his card by the time you could even think about pulling your own out. Jay ushers you to the side where the waiting area is and puts his hands deep in his pockets.

The two of you are quiet for a while. It’s semi busy and the sound of chatter and steaming milk reverberates around the room. Jay looks at you through the corner of his eyes and sees you looking at your watch for the time. If he's to say anything, he needs to say it now.

“It’s good to see you again,” is what Jay settles with. You turn to look at him. “I didn’t realize you were the borrowed partner. It’s good to see that you achieved your dreams.”

You don’t know how to respond. You choose to respond honestly.

“It makes me happy knowing that we both made it,” you tell him. “Heeseung told me he promoted you to senior partner a few months ago. That’s incredible.”

“Not as incredible as being the youngest person to be named senior partner at Tang-Young.” Jay smiles at you. “That’s incredible.”

“It feels that way,” you tell him earnestly. “I used to think days like these were far-fetched, like I’d never be named senior partner or have my foot in the door. It feels crazy to feel put together for once.”

“I know the feeling,” Jay agrees. “I have my own place and haven’t had any help from my parents since I graduated law school. I’ve been on my own for a while now.”

The barista calls out your orders. Jay lets you pick up your beverage before he takes his.

“Do you ever think about when you were a first year associate? I think about sitting in the bullpen all the time. Sometimes it feels wrong to have my own office.” Jay opens the door for you and lets you walk outside first before he follows.

“I picture myself out there when I first joined the firm,” Jay confesses. “I was so young and naive…I didn’t have a clear picture of what I wanted to do with my career yet.”

“It’s insane how much time has passed,” you comment, looking both ways before crossing the street. Jay doesn’t think you say it as you do on purpose, but emotions tug on his heart strings. “I feel like I was just a first year associate only a few days ago.”

Jay swallows harshly. “A lot has changed. Some for the better…some for the worst.”

You finally look at him when the two of you reach the other side of the road. He doesn’t like talking in tongues or minding your language when he speaks to you because he wants to apologize. Jay has spent the last few weeks dreaming about what he’d say to you or what he’d do to make up for his shortcoming years prior but he doesn’t know how to start. He doesn’t know what he should do first or if you’d consider hearing him out.

Today is an indication that you might be, is the conclusion Jay comes to.

The cliches of time slowing down is what he feels when you stop to look at him. He feels like you’re staring through his soul, almost as if you’re inspecting him from head to toe. Jay doesn’t know what you’re thinking and he’s too afraid to ask. He can’t tell what’s going on in your head with your emotionless expression, rocking back and forth to keep his balance.

Did he say the wrong thing? Jay bites his tongue and wishes he could wake up from whatever dream he’s having. This doesn’t even feel real. He can barely hear the sound of taxis and people around him through the thumping of his own heart. Jay can’t see anyone else but you, so he reckons he could open his eyes and still be in his bed.

But he blinks and you’re still standing in front of him.

“Things might’ve changed and so do people. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

He watches you walk towards the entrance of the building and forces himself to jog until he’s walking next to you. Jay catches himself and tries not to bump into the people walking in the opposite direction as him. When the two of you are back on the fiftieth floor, you bow to the secretaries and greet Heeseung and Jake, who are standing next to one another.

“Oh good,” Heesueng says, “Y/N, you’re here. I know you have to appear in court in a few hours and I was wondering if you’d be willing to stop by Attorney Ahn’s office.”

“Ahn?” you ask him quizzically. “What for?”

“We secured an agreement for them to hand over the Hybe’s contracts. They didn’t want to disclose and Ahn tried hard to block this from being filed, but I think Judge Han allowed it to pass. Do you think you could grab the box from his office?”

“Sure thing,” you tell him with a nod. “I should be leaving in about an hour. No idea when I’ll be back, but I planned to put in some extra hours. Might as well get a head start by looking at those files.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Heeseung praises before walking back into his office.

“I’m kind of offended neither of you invited me to get coffee,” Jake says as he hands Jay a manila folder.

“Maybe if this file was on my desk yesterday, I would have,” Jay says with the quirk of his mouth.

Jake shakes his head dramatically. “Do you see what I have to deal with, Y/N? It’s like he wants to punish me.”

“Punishing you would be making you go to housing court three times a week, but I don’t,” Jay retorts. “Instead, you get to work with the big kids.”

“Atta boy,” Jake says as he elbows Jay’s side. “But seriously, I want an invite next time.”

“We ran into each other this morning but how about you and I go together tomorrow morning, say around eight?”

“I think you’re my favorite attorney!” Jake exclaims.

You turn to Jay. “You’re welcome to join us.”

“Yes,” Jay accepts immediately. “Yeah, uh, I’d love to join.”

“Great.” You look between them with a pleasant smile. “Well if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to prepare for trial. See you this afternoon?”

“Count on it,” Jake says with a mock salute.

You leave the two of them and Jake watches as his mentor forces himself to pry his eyes off of you. In the duration that he’s gotten to see you and Jay work alongside one another, Jake has never seen his mentor at a loss for words before you started to work in the same office. The younger boy looks between the two of you before slipping back into Jay’s, waiting for him to follow suit.

Jake joined Lee & Associates as a first year associate. His designated spot in the bullpen felt scared to him, like it was the one place in the entire office that didn’t make him feel like a belittled mess. Law school was over and Jake couldn’t help but feel nervous about practicing law in the real world where the consequences would be more fatal than a bad test score.

Jay was in need of an associate at the time and there didn’t seem to be anybody who could step up to the plate and deal with Jay’s on-and-off personality, along with the fast pace he kept when working. Before getting to know him, Jay was someone unreadable to Jake. He felt untouchable even though his desk was right in front of the bullpen with the glass doors separating the two of them, mimicking something as dramatic as The Great Wall.

Yet he finds himself seeing Jay like a brother after the time spent together. Jake knows his mentor is anything but a stone cold, hardened attorney people make him out to be. Jay prefers to keep his emotions closer to himself rather than on his sleeve for people to notice at first glance. He loves loyalty and honesty, and will go to great lengths to award people who stand beside him through tough times.

It’s why Jake can see the conflict in Jay’s eyes when he sees him looking at you. Jay’s stare is far away, almost as if he’s looking at the spot you stood in to yearn for what he once had. It takes him a moment or two to collect himself and continue with his day.

Jay clears his throat when he realizes he’s been quiet.

“Do you have the briefing for the damage collection case?”

Jake stares at his friend. “I’ll give it to you if you tell me what’s going on between you and Y/N.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Jay sputters in an attempt to seem calm. His heart is beating twice as fast. Jake merely shakes his head.

“Nah, man. You look at Y/N like you’re seconds away from telling her you’re in love with her.”

“I am not in love with her,” Jay defends immediately. He sees Jake raise his eyebrow and disconnects eye contact. “We used to know each other in law school and now we aren’t as close anymore.”

“See, that’s the thing. I know that. Everyone else knows that too. But there’s something neither you nor Y/N are acknowledging and there’s tension in the air whenever you two are in the same room.”

“There’s no tension.”

Jake deadpans. “There’s so much tension. Even Riki can sense it.”

“Don’t bring interns into this.”

“I’m not bringing anyone into anything,” Jake replies. “It’s you and your weird mojo that needs to be fixed.”

“My mojo?”

“You’ve been off kilter for the past month,” says Jake. “I’m your right hand, you know? I’m with you for ninety percent of the week. I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

Jay sighs. “It’s complicated, Jake. I…did some things in the past that I wasn’t proud of and I can’t bring myself to talk to Y/N, especially knowing how it all went down.”

“You don’t have to be so cryptic about it,” Jake says sarcastically.

Take a seat,” Jay instructs. “You’ll want to sit down.”

Recounting the story to Jake makes Jay feel like he’s telling a juvenile story about two lovestruck teenagers who were too immature to know any better. He feels the guilt rising to the surface all over again, as if he were shaming his younger self for acting so selfishly.

Truthfully, Jay knew you didn’t deserve to be treated the way he treated you. He viewed you as the epitome of sunshine even if you didn’t believe him on most days. Your quiet demeanor hid a blooming flower. You deserved more than a coward who couldn’t own up to his feelings.

They stay in Jay’s office, foregoing the workday to discuss what happened the night he left you and what transpired in the summer that followed. Jay tells Jake that he and his parents hopped on a flight abroad a few days after graduation. He tells him how you were always at the forefront of his mind and how that sad look in your eye imprinted in his mind every time he closed his eyes.

“Shit,” Jake says, leaning back to clutch against Jay’s chair.

“Indeed.” Jay averts his attention to the city below his office from his window. “I don’t know how to act around her. She walks around like nothing happened between us but when I look at her, all I can picture is that look on her face when I walked away.”

“Have you ever considered that Y/N has moved on?”

Jay shakes his head. “Heeseung said the same thing but this isn’t something you get over, Jake.”

“You said it yourself, though. Y/N is a resilient person. You just told me what you admired about her most was that she could see the bigger picture and react accordingly.”

“I used to think she never had the guts to stand up for herself when people were meant to her,” Jay confesses. “I’d get so frustrated and we’d get into arguments because I’d tell her she doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. But Y/N would always tell me that some battles aren’t worth fighting. I never understood it then.”

“And now?”

Jay sighs. “Seeing her here, making friends with all of the associates and walking into Heeseung’s office like she owns the place, makes me realize she always knew what she was talking about. I mentioned she didn't have a great relationship with her parents, right? Well, I think part of me always forgot that since I had a great relationship with mine. I was more vocal than she was. I didn’t have a problem telling people off if they deserved it.

“But she was quieter. Maybe it was by nature or maybe it was because she didn’t like talking unless she had a reason to. I don’t know. But when I look at her now, I don’t see that angry, frustrated person anymore. I can’t begin to describe it. It’s like she broke out of her shell and became a completely different person. More confident, I’d say.”

Jake nods. “You know, she told me and Sunoo that she has a tattoo of a butterfly on her hip.”

“A butterfly?”

“A butterfly. A monarch, I think. Anyway, the type doesn’t matter. It’s just funny that you think she’s come out of her shell when butterflies start out as caterpillars and have to go through their metamorphosis period before becoming a butterfly.”

Jay bites his lip in contemplation. Jake continues.

“Monarch butterflies migrate to warm weather once a year because they can’t survive the cold. They fly in groups, hundreds of thousands at a time and build communities. Y/N did the same thing, if you think about it. She left Korea to find herself in New York and returned when she was ready.”

“I never thought about it like that,” Jay says. “I knew she was working from New York but I always thought it was to get away from me.”

“Maybe in the beginning,” Jake adds. “Maybe Y/N needed to get away from you, her parents, and her life as she knew it to find the person she was always supposed to be.”

“I will never forgive myself for not calling her after we graduated.”

“You don’t have to, but I think Y/N has.” Jake leans his elbows on Jay’s desk and looks the man in the eye. “Look, I know I haven’t known her for as long as you have, but in the month we’ve worked together, I’ve learned a lot from her. I’ve seen her talk to the opposing counsel in depositions and learned that she can get to the point without saying much. She’s really confident in herself and is almost always willing to help associates when they approach her.

“What I’m trying to say is, you need to let go of the person you once knew and the person you were back then. You and I both know how far you’ve come in your career and I’m sure Heeseung knows how much you’ve changed as a person since you graduated. But you can’t keep living in the past if you want to move forward.”

Jake’s right and Jay knows it. Every day, he wakes up and his first thought is the memory of you averting your eyes from him at the graduation ceremony. He thinks about his wrongdoings more often than he’d like to admit and can’t seem to move past this feeling of inadequacy when it comes to you. Jay contemplates on whether or not he deserves your respect or forgiveness, the unknown being the obstacle that prevented him from apologizing to you in the first place.

But he needs to let that go. He’s not the person who decides whether or not he deserves forgiveness. You are.

You are the person who dictates how you feel. Not Jay, not anyone else. For the past month, Jay has been overthinking about how to talk to you if it’s not related to the litigation. He can talk to you when it’s in conjunction about the Hyb case, but he can’t talk to you about anything else.

Jay needs to start trusting you and your judgment in a way he couldn’t before. But unlike now, Jay wasn’t in your crossfires all those years ago. The version of him during law school never gave you a reason to overcome the loss of a friendship. In order to understand you better, he needs to stop thinking about you the way you were back then. For right now, you’re a stranger he knows everything about.

“You’re right,” Jay nods. “I’ve been so caught up in dealing with this shock that I forgot Y/N’s had to deal with it longer. It makes sense that she isn’t as shaken up as I am.”

“She’s smart and way more perceptive than you give her credit for. I think Riki’s about to ask Y/N to adopt him because she keeps talking to him in Japanese.” Jake smiles. “Speaking of which.”

Jay quirks his eyebrow. “Speaking of what?”

“You so clearly still have feelings for Y/N.” Jay opens his mouth and immediately closes it.

“Lying to you would be useless, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m also more perceptive than you think. That, and you talk about her like she saved your cat from a tree, or something.”

“I can’t help it,” Jay sighs as he rubs his face. “Being around Y/N makes me feel the way I did all those years ago. I don’t think I ever got over her. She had this ability to keep people in her grasp, you know? Once you peeled back her layers and looked past her shy personality, there she was. Now, it’s like watching everyone else meet the Y/N i knew she always was, just more openly. It’s weird to see her talking to everyone but in a good way, you know? She’s not apologizing for who she is anymore.”

“Like I said,” Jake says, “Y/N’s a butterfly.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Later in the afternoon, Jay stops responding to emails when he feels his eyes getting tired from looking at his laptop. The conversation he had with Jake weighs on his mind with every passing hour and his leg bounces with anticipation for your arrival back to the office.

Throughout the entire day, he’s been reminding himself that he has also grown and matured since the last time you saw him. He’s no longer somebody who hates conflict and speaking his mind. His job has taught him the value of saying what you mean and sticking to an argument until the very end. Jay’s tendency to falter in himself has diminished over the years, especially since working at a legacy company such as Lee & Associates.

His success as an attorney plays a factor in his confidence, too. Seeing his father in the courtroom inspired him as a child to pursue a career in law so that he may one day fight on behalf of people who don’t have a voice themselves. Never in his wildest dreams did Jay ever think he alone could make a big difference in the lives of others but he sits behind his desk with a promotion just shy of having his own surname on the door in the main office.

Jay’s job means everything to him. It means working hard after spending countless days and nights stressing over cases and essays in law school. It means working with his colleagues to bring out the best in people and take down companies who value profit over people. It means making a difference in the lives of those who aren’t as fortunate as him. If Lee & Associates wasn’t as philanthropic and as morally-good as Jay would’ve hoped, he doesn’t know if he would’ve said yes to their offer when it was offered to him.

He decides to take a break and head over to the break room when he bumps into Sunghoon, who has a scowl etched on his face.

“Hoon,” Jay says, tugging on Sunghoon’s arm to force him to stop walking. “Are you alright?”

“No,” he mumbles.

Jay’s eyebrows contort in confusion. “What’s happening? Is there anything I can do? Talk to me.”

Sunghoon sighs. “It’s nothing you can fix, unfortunately. Remember when Heeseung asked Y/N to get the Hybe contract files from Ahn?”

“What about it?”

“Y/N met with him in his office and he sent her home with one box.”

“I don’t understand why that’s a bad thing.”

Sunghoon points behind Jay, who sees a room filled to the brim with boxes.

“He sent the rest here.”

The two men walk over to the office and see you standing next to Heeseung with both hands on your hips. You look just short of enraged. Jay swears he can see steam coming out of your ears.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jay says as his eyes scan the boxes piled on top of one another. “How could we possibly get through all of this?”

“Hybe’s burying us in paperwork so we look unprepared in our next meeting,” you say in disbelief. “I wish I could’ve slapped that smug look off of his face when he gave me only one of the damn boxes.”

“We might have to fight about who gets to do that.” Heeseung curses under his breath. “We’ve got two weeks before our next hearing to determine the next step in the settlement.”

“It looks like they’re gonna win,” Sunghoon grains from beside Jay. “They’re not giving up the recoupment clause.”

“The answer is in here somewhere,” Jay adds. “We just have to find it.”

“We’ll be up all night.” You look somewhere between defeated and determined, although Jay isn’t sure which is which.

“Not if we work together,” says Jungwon, who has Sunoo and Riki standing behind him. The five of you look behind you to see them standing in the doorway. “We want to help.”

“We can’t possibly ask you to do that,” Heeseung says. “I know the expectation is that you stay later than six in the evening, but this is too much to ask of you guys.”

“You aren’t asking,” Sunoo insists as he sits down in front of Heeseung. “Jay and Jake already have me working on a few of the case files. It makes sense to have another set of eyes that knows this case well.”

“I want the practice as well,” Riki agrees, taking a seat next to Sunoo. “Jungwon and Sunoo have been teaching me how to read these types of documents and pull relevant information out of them. I’d really appreciate the experience.”

“You’re sure about this?” Jay asks.

“We’re positive,” Sunoo confirms.

“Well, you guys can go home at any point,” Heeseung says. “This goes for everyone in the room. God only knows how much bullshit we’ll have to dig through.”

The sun starts to wane over the blue sky when Jay decides he needs a change of scenery. He’s been sitting in the same chair for a few hours at this point and desperately craves the sweet melodies of soft jazz from his vinyl collection. He excuses himself and lets everyone know he’ll be in his office if anybody needs anything.

You watch him stand up from where you’re seated and as he walks out of the room. You must admit, Jay still looks criminally handsome. That tendency to cower into yourself whenever he looks at you is still present today, especially when he makes room for you to speak during depositions and internal meetings.

For a while, you were hellbent on making an enemy out of Jay for what he did to you. The person you were before leaving Seoul was somebody who would likely paint Jay as a target and a villain for life. The friends you made in New York would entertain you in conversations about boys who have a tendency to break hearts and you always had a story to share.

Even so, time has been kind to you. The years spent focusing on your career and your loved ones has molded you into the kind of person who can see people for who they are, not what they’ve done and have atoned for. Jay has worked all his life to prove himself worthy of being somebody who can take care of himself and stand on his own two feet. In a way, you’ve done the same thing.

Half an hour goes by before you decide you need to stretch your legs. You make the bold decision to take your work with you and pay no mind to Heeseung, who winks at you on the way out.

Approaching Jay feels like a mix between normal and anxiety inducing. Seeing him hunched over his desk with a scowl on his face as he concentrates is nostalgic to you, and it makes you remember all the times you’d search for him after your classes ended just to find him in the library with a gargantuan book beneath his focus. His hair still falls as perfectly as you remember it and he still twirls his pen in his fingers like he used to.

It brings a set of uneasiness to your stomach. You’ve spent years trying to forget Jay before coming to the conclusion that you could never forget someone who once meant so much to you. All of the hatred you harbored for the man you held deep feelings for dissipated when you remembered that he too was growing and trying to find out who he was aside from all he once knew.

Gathering the courage to knock on his door, you force yourself to do it before you convince yourself to back out.

Jay looks up at you like you’re the last person he expected to see. It makes your stomach drop.

“Sorry,” you mutter when he doesn’t motion for you to enter. “I’ll go.”

“No!” Jay says immediately. He clears his throat and puts his pen down, waving you into his office. “Come in, please.” You walk inside and close the door behind you, the sound of soft jazz is reminiscent of the times you used to study with him in his apartment.

“I needed a break from sitting in the same spot,” you tell him, standing before his desk and looking at the decor around the room. “I see you still love collecting vinyls.”

“My collection has definitely grown,” he laughs. You feel his eyes watching you explore his office before you find your way to sit in the chair in front of him.

When the air settles around you, a sense of nervousness washes over your body. Suddenly, you can feel your entire weight on the chair you’re on top of. You can hear the clock that resides from just outside of his office and your mouth becomes too dry to handle.

You’re not sure why you’ve come to see Jay. You don’t know what you’d say to him. All of those nights you imagined a great big showdown where Jay would fall to his knees and apologize to you, just for you to refute his attempts, don’t matter anymore. You look back at yourself and think of it as silly even though that’s what you needed at a time. But part of growing up and learning about who you are is realizing your capabilities and strengths. Being able to reconcile with the past that hurt you without feeling pure anger towards the cause was arguably the hardest thing you’ve done.

You two are grown versions of your unsure, unconfident selves. The wall you spent your teenage years building has fallen down with time, knowledge, and grace. Two beings achieving a high clarity of peace is what’s left in this room.

It isn’t that you forgive and forget. Rather, taking the time to heal and forgive Jay for embarrassing you has made you realize there are worse things than a memory filled with people you aren’t in contact with anymore. Nobody in your life knew about what had happened because you hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with anyone, and no one did the same with you. The shame and burden you carried and blamed on everyone else was misdirected. It was your own insecure nature and unconfident persona that prevented you from healing.

Separating oneself from the pair of people who stripped away your confidence was the lowest you ever felt. The violent words echoing through your ears after a particularly bad test in high school broke your heart for the last time. You would no longer hold any room in your heart for another chance. The pieces of you that shattered onto the floor were swept away, never to be seen again.

You kept your head down for the years of the time you lived with them. There was no use to talk back and fight to be seen by them, even if it was to glare at you for misbehaving. It came to a point where even unloving attention from your parents was enough, settling with the notion that you wouldn’t get what you asked for as you wanted it.

But having realized sweet ignorance was bliss made you sick to your stomach. It made you ashamed to know you had spent so long wishing the people who brought you unto this Earth would look at you. The realization that changing everything about yourself would do nothing but damage in the end, taught you more than you could ever sum into words. It didn't matter if you were loud or quiet. They would never look at you the way they looked at your older brother.

It was hard to come to terms with it. Everyday was a battle against immense frustration and turmoil as you tried to navigate your way as a young adult without the opinions of your parents shoved down your throat. They’d already expected the best out of you, so perhaps being interested in law was the only thing you’ve ever done that made your parents feel as though you were worth celebrating.

Separating yourself post-high school and college was easier than ever before, especially when they hadn’t shown up to your law school graduation.

That final nail in the coffin is what solidifies what remained of the relationship. You wouldn’t see them save for holiday parties to save face, especially when your colleagues and mentors were good friends of theirs. The posed smiles and awkward conversations were part of your way to make connections and play the game before you ended up crying on your bathroom floor. Playing the part of an obedient daughter only to turn into a stranger to your parents was a role you were likely born to play.

“I was wondering if I could look through the paperwork with you.”

Jay’s eyes widen. “With me?”

“Only if you want to! I mean, it was always nice to work with you in the library all those years ago. I thought it might be a nice change of pace.”

Jay looks at you through his lashes and can’t believe the grace he’s been given to have you approach him before he got the chance to. The unexpected load of files put a dent in his plans. It seems, however, that somebody is looking out for him,

“I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Jay says. It’s as if the filter on his mouth has disappeared because he can’t stop talking about what he’s thinking about. “I didn’t know you were the person who was going to help us out on this case and seeing you for the first time in years made me think about when we were kids. I probably don’t have the right to say this, so forgive me, but I really missed you.”

That shy smile he always knew you to have adorned your lips.

“I missed you too,” you tell him. “There are a lot of things I’ve done that I wish I could have shared with you. Although I admit I had a few weeks to prepare seeing you before I officially said yes to helping with this case.”

“I used to think about what would happen if I ever saw you in court,” Jay confesses. “I’d like to believe I’d say hi, or something.”

“I probably would’ve done the same thing. Do you still play guitar?”

“Every chance I get,” Jay smiles. “I’ve added a few electric and acoustics editions to my collection. I have an entire music room back at home.”

“I always remembered you being so musically gifted. If you didn’t become a lawyer, you probably would’ve been a successful musician.”

“You always flattered me too much.”

“Why stop now?

Jay smiles at you. “Do you still want cats?”

“I have a cat called Miso. I’ve had her for a few months. She’s still such a small baby. Is it bad that I’m considering getting another one?”

“Not at all,” Jay agrees. “But three might make you a cat lady.”

You pretend to weigh your options. “I’ll think about it.”

“I can’t believe you lived in New York for a few years. I remember you loving the big city.”

“I think I’ve changed a bit,” you tell him. “I love the hustle and bustle, but living in Manhattan made me realize I miss living away from the noise. I like traveling into town and having the option to leave it, you know?”

“Definitely,” Jay nods. “My place is in a high rise so I don’t hear construction noises or birds chirping when I want it to be quiet. I got the chance to move in a few years after I started my job here.”

“I live just on the outskirts of Seoul. It’s a good sized neighborhood in a family town. I like that it’s so quiet. I usually hear children who live in the houses play on the streets on weekend mornings.”

“That sounds like quite a peaceful life.”

You smile at him like you know something he doesn’t.

“Yeah, it really is.”

“Do you ever think about how long ago law school was?” you ask. “Sometimes I pinch myself when I’m given big responsibilities. I pinched myself over and over again when I was named senior partner and nearly gave myself a bruise.”

“I see the associates in the bullpen everyday and think about how that was me ages ago,” Jay responds. By now, he’s turned his attention from the document to you. “I used to be an insecure prick who pretended to have everything under control. I was so desperate to prove myself. I’m sure you know how that feels. I don’t think I got a wink of sleep in the first four years of my career.”

“You and I both. I think my life got more stressful when I started my career. Law school did not prepare me mentally for what it was gonna be like.

“But it’s rewarding, right? I feel like I’m doing something good with my life. And you know Heeseung, you know he wouldn't sign off on clients who are morally corrupt.”

“It feels incredible, honestly. Being able to help people makes me feel like I’ve served a good purpose. I used to think about texting you all the dumb mistakes people made when I was a first year. It’s hilarious to know how many professionals can’t remain professional.”

Jay’s smile weakens as his guilt creeps back into his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly yet firmly.

You look at him. “I know. Let’s focus on the case, yeah?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Arriving at the office as the sun is peeking from the horizon is not a new phenomenon for you. Despite the crust that formed around your eye last night, indicating a good rest, you feel somewhat sluggish as you wait for Jake to finish ordering his coffee.

“Jay woke up late again,” he snickers as he pockets his phone. “He probably won’t be at the office until eight.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “We all need beauty sleep after yesterday.”

“Ahn can kiss my ass. I felt like I was knee deep in paperwork. My eyes were gonna fall out of their sockets.”

“You and me both,” you sigh, retrieving your beverage and pastry. The warmth lifts your mood. “I’ve seen my fair share of paperwork and dirty moves, but they never cease to surprise me.”

“The audacity of him to give you one box to leave with, too,” Jake says with venom in his tone. “I’ll punch him for you.”

“How about you hold him down while I do the punching?”

“I like your style.”

The office itself is still relatively quiet, save for the few first year associates milling around the bullpen and the break room. The coffee and espresso machine have seen better days, and you make a mental note to tell Heeseung to invest in new ones.

Jake raises his hand in a mock salute as you walk towards your office. The pretty skyline will always remain a marvel to you. To live a life of privilege and to neglect the beauty around you would be a disservice to all that has raised you and all what will be awarded to you. The streets below you begin to fill with people commuting to work. It feels much like New York, where the city never sleeps and the people never lose their dreams.

Working with Jay in his office felt normal. Sitting in front of him and getting to know his life as he built it wasn’t as hurtful as you once thought it would be. With each quip, it felt as if the two of you fell into old habits like there was never a time where the two of you spent any time apart.

You could tell Jay had more to say than he led on. But hearing a full confession or an apology in the office didn’t feel right. It’s why you shut him down. Hearing the sincerity in his voice when he came to apologize, but having a short conversation between looking through piles upon piles of documents, felt too colloquial. You’re owed the decency of no distractions, at least, even if you’ve done the work to grow and heal.

There was once a time you swore you’d never give Jay a second chance and that actions, at face value, mean more than any rectification. Back when you were blindsided by hurt and emotion, the realization that the person you cared about the most leaving you felt like a punch to the gut. If Jay had the audacity to leave you as you were, what good were you to anyone else?

The answer isn’t simple. It wasn’t until you realized running away from Korea and relocation to New York didn’t make you as happy as you thought it did.

You were lying to yourself when you’d smile and tell your friends that it was the best decision you ever made. You had fooled yourself into believing it as you said it, sipping on whatever alcoholic beverage was at hand at the time. But coming home to an empty loft made those unsavory thoughts ruminate in your mind until you fell asleep. Even so, you dreamt about what your life would be like if Jay had chosen to stay.

Years of running resulted in a sudden crash. It was like your life wasn’t as perfect as you made it out to be. You loved the part of you that made a life in New York and you loved the people and the work that was established, but a larger part of you missed your life in Seoul. You missed your friends, your old haunts, and the places you swore you’d never go but found yourself visiting when you came back home. You missed your family too, or whatever was left of it. In the years you spent overseas, you learned to come to terms with the notion that who you are is not a product of people who do not know you. Rather, who you are is an accumulation of your experiences and passions, and nothing else.

That realization made it easier to forgive Jay. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again and the thought of what you would say if you came face-to-face with him, or what apologies you would’ve wanted to hear from him, didn’t matter. It became something you tossed at the bottom of your priority list because relying on the actions of other people became a dangerous habit of yours. You’d look at yourself in the mirror and slowly begin to like what you saw looking back at you.

To let go of the past feels like freedom. You could dwell on everyone who wronged you and remain spiteful at all of the times you were left to feel like an embarrassment and a burden, but none of that could have ever helped you arrive in the present day as tranquil as you are. Every happenstance, good and bad, happened for a reason, and it isn’t up to you to figure out why.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when Jungwon knocks on your door.

“Y/N?” he asks timidly.

“What’s up?”

“Do you have the time to go over these case files with me?” Jungwon asks. “I know you have a lunch meeting you need to prepare for, but none of the other attorneys are in the office right now and Heeseung needs these as soon as possible.”

You smile at him. “I’ll make time.”

The two of you sit in relative silence for the next twenty minutes, hearing the sounds of paper turning and pens scribbling in the margins. The city’s waking up and people are filing into the office one by one as the two of you remain in the vacated copy room just around the main office. Jungwon suggested relocating to the small corner for concentration purposes and you start to understand why he’s everybody’s favorite paralegal.

“This stuff is insane,” Jungwon comments. You look up at him to see a scowl etched on his face. “How can people willingly take advantage of people trying to pursue their dreams?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “It kills me to see greedy corporations treat people like they don’t matter.”

“It’s unfair,” Jungwon says. “If I had my way, I’d stick it to these music executives. Screw Ahn for burying us in paperwork.”

“Making the musician pay back a certain fee feels almost impossible, doesn’t it?” you ask Jungwon rhetorically. “It almost feels like the label is stealing talent and profiting off of it wherever and whenever they can.”

“These poor people are trying to make a living doing what they love. None of this is fair. It’s stupid for labels to require a certain number of albums to be made under contract.”

“Even more stupid when labels cut them loose because they can’t pay back the recoupment quickly.”

“If I had time in the courtroom with Attorney Ahn, I think I’d rip him a new one.”

You laugh. “How long have you been a paralegal, Jungwon?”

“A couple of years,” he tells you. “I’m thinking about other career options in the meantime, but I love my job and I love helping the associates when they ask me.”

“Why would you think of different career paths if this is what you love to do?”

He sighs. “I’m not good at testing. I mean, I took the bar and failed. It feels like it’s too late for me, you know?”

“Well, you could always take it again.”

He shakes his head. “It’s no use. I’m not good at practice tests but I could tell you about any case. I’ve been at this job long enough to discuss concepts and have them make sense, but it’s testing that gets me. I just get so anxious, you know? I second guess myself all the time and I hate that I do that.”

“Testing used to be my greatest enemy.”

“What changed?”

“Jay, honestly. He was always the better student when it came to that kind of stuff. I had really bad testing anxiety but he managed to help me study enough to the point where I knew I would ace them.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize you guys used to be so close.”

“I’d say he was my closest friend in law school. It’s nice to see him again after all these years.”

Jungwon doesn’t press further, instead returning his attention to the documents below him.

“Ending the recoupment expectation means the artist can keep the profit from the moment it’s been released, right?”

“They’ll have to split their earnings with people who worked on the project based on copyright laws, but yes, essentially.”

Jungwon sits with his thoughts and stares at the documents before him. His hands sift through the folders as his eyes dart from page to page.

“This is what I love about my job,” he begins. “I love helping people because it’s what I feel like I was meant to do. I love solving problems and I love fixing them.”

“You owe it to yourself to try, you know,” you encourage. “Going to law school isn’t easy, but not many people can say they have your experience. You’ve got a few years of working with associates and partners under your belt. There’s no reason to be afraid of taking the LSAT.”

“I guess I’m just nervous that I won’t be good enough,” Jungwon confesses. “Every day, I’m surrounded by the smartest people I know who all graduated from the best law school in Korea. How could I ever compete with that?”

His doubt speaks to your younger self, the one who cowered in fear when your parents neglected to praise you for a job well done or turned a blind eye when you asked for advice. Jungwon’s worries speak to the part of you that wished for external validation when it came to your capabilities and strengths, because doing it yourself could only go so far.

His words remind you of moments when you felt small, like the world was too big and you’d never have enough time to discover all the wonders it could bring. You were meek back then, thriving off of whatever little validation they gave you just to have them knock it down. You don’t know why you spent so many years yearning for their approval, but never getting it felt too familiar.

Your acceptance at the most prestigious law school in Korea was met with apprehension. You recall the sinking feeling in your stomach the moment the idea about your worth was proposed; having your parents question your capabilities or how you’d fit in with your peers had you second guessing your career path, leaving you wondering if following your passion was worth the struggle and pain of convincing them to let you pursue it.

They agreed to let you go under the condition that they pay for the first year before you’d need to pay for the remaining two. It felt unfair and it still feels unfair. But what’s done is done and you managed to gain the courage to chase after that dream of yours that always seemed just too far out of reach, and it has paid off.

Now, you look at Jungwon as if he were a ghost of your former self.

“You say you’re worried about committing to a career path, but it seems like you’ve got your heart set on becoming a lawyer,” you tell him. “Don’t you think you should explore that?”

Jungwon smiles at you.

“I think I will.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Jay finds you in the break room laughing with Jungwon when he’s able to pull himself away from meetings. You look gorgeous when you laugh as freely as you are, like you aren’t shy about showing people what you look like when you smile. It warms his heart to hear that fluttering laugh of yours.

“You’re serious about helping me study for the LSAT?” he hears Jungwon ask you.

“Dead serious. It’ll take some time but the test comes around a few times a year. Take it easy, okay? There’s no need to rush.”

The younger boy sees Jay approach and nods his head. “I should get going. See you later, Y/N!”

“Jungwon’s taking the LSAT?” Jay asks when the former disappears.

“I’m trying to convince him. He told me earlier about why he’s hesitant to go to law school but I think Jungwon can do it if he really tries.”

“I think so too,” Jay agrees. “He’s the only person in this office who knows what’s going on. Might as well promote him to first year associate. We’ll definitely miss him around the office, though.”

“All the more reason to hire him when he graduates.”

Jay smiles. This kind of generosity is something he always thought of you.

“Anyway, I have a meeting in thirty minutes and I’m considering canceling if not for the free lunch.”

“Hot young finance wannabe taking you out to an expensive steakhouse?” he jokes.

“Try a sixty-year old former housewife afraid that her assets are in shambles when they haven’t been touched in years,” you laugh. “The restaurant is a dim sum place by my apartment and I will never say no to dim sum.”

“Bummer,” Jay says, biting back a smile. “I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee before the afternoon rush.”

“Can we rain check?” you ask eagerly. “I’d love to get coffee with you again.”

“I would love that. Are you going to be back in the office this afternoon, though? I’ll keep my door open for you.”

“I’ll be back around three,” you tell him with a shy smile. “I’ll be sure to knock.”

Jay shakes his head. “You can walk in. I’ll make an exception for you.”

The atmosphere around the office has changed when you come back and sit with him to work. It’s like the distance and wrongdoings have been erased when it’s just the two of you sitting in front of one another, almost as if time has transported the both of you back to law school.

You find that you’re able to get work done much faster without the impending doom of awkwardness lingering around the two of you. Jay’s tendency to skirt around you created a strange atmosphere during the first few weeks of you working in his domain, but sitting with him now makes you feel like things are going to be okay.

For Jay, it feels the same. His guilt has subsided, not because he feels absolved, but because he feels like he’s working towards a better version of himself with you back in his life. Jay has always sworn to rectify his mistakes if he was given the chance to and the universe granting him one last chance by allowing you back in his life feels like a second chance. He doesn't want to mess it up and make you feel the way you did once upon a time.

It isn’t until the sun goes down and you yawn that he registers just how late the two of you have been working. Conversations flow easily and it feels like time has moved too fast.

“Let’s get noodles before going home? For old time’s sake,” Jay asks you.

“It’s like you read my mind.”

He knows of a place not too far from away, a small hole-in-the-wall joint that boasts an array of soups that immediately smell like comfort in a bowl. The waitress leaves the two of you alone after putting your meal in front of you, and you waste no time before digging in.

“Woah, slow down before you choke on the soup,” Jay teases.

“Cut me some slack,” you whine. “This is definitely not the first time you’ve watched me inhale my food.”

Jay laughs. “I remember when you couldn’t stop eating the shumai from across my apartment. You must’ve thrown up twice? I think?”

“That night single handedly made me watch how much I ate in one sitting.” You recoil at the memory. “But I still love shumai. Just not as much.”

“Or that time you went through a phase where you couldn’t stop drinking fruit-flavored punch and got so nauseous that you almost skipped the last exam before winter break.”

“I made it, though! I think I got a ninety-one on that test? But who cares. Law school was forever ago.”

Jay’s eyes soften.

“I really am sorry,” he begins. “I’ve been thinking about when the best time to talk to you is, but everyday there’s something new between the Hybe case and other things that need our attention. So, I’m sorry if right now it seems like it’s coming out of the blue.

“It’s selfish of me to say it when you’re eating, I know. I just want you to know how sorry I am for being a coward and for leaving you standing.” Jay’s eyes falter and he looks back at his bowl of soup before forcing himself to look you in the eye. “I couldn’t tell you what my younger self was thinking back then. Every single day I think about how awful and selfish I was to put my emotions above yours.”

“Jay–”

“I don’t know if this counts for much, I’d like to think I’ve grown since then. I’ve learned to be empathetic and that I can’t run away from things just because it was too much or because I was scared about how I felt about you.” He swallows harshly. “I really, really liked you back then.”

You bite your lip. “I really liked you too.”

“Working with you for the past few months has made me realize how much of a fucking idiot I was to walk away like that. I should’ve told Iseul to shove it down her throat and walk out with you instead of leaving you alone. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry.”

In your years imagining what this moment would look like, it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t in a small noodle stop sitting in an expensive dress. It wasn’t at the end of a long workday where your thoughts are all over the place. It certainly wasn’t with Jay sounding as honest and as sincere as he is now.

You prepared to leave in astonishment or throw a drink at him for his audacity. You envisioned yourself laughing in his face and walking away with your hair brushed behind your shoulders, only to peek over and see him fall to his knees in despair. You imagined Jay looking disheveled and helpless, catching his insincerity with a smug grin before telling him to leave you alone forever.

But the man in front of you looks like he’s waited a long time to apologize. He drops his eye contact with you in favor of moving his chopsticks around the bowl, moving the noodles as a way to fill the awkward silence from your lack of response. In truth, your heart is beating three times as fast as it normally does. It doesn’t help that your feelings for Jay never went away. It certainly doesn’t help that his apology feels like one crafted by a mature adult as opposed to throwaway words someone strings together to absolve themselves of guilt.

Jay’s guilty and he knows it. He’s willing to live with the consequences, but your silence is killing him.

Instead of speaking, you push your hand to reach for his and pry his fingers off of his chopsticks. Jay’s eyes snap to your hands touching his, afraid that if he moves, you’ll be gone quicker than he can register.

“You were never one for words,” you begin to say. Jay’s heart sinks to the bottom of his chest. “I remember you having the hardest time carrying a conversation because you were thinking too hard about what to say. I always thought I was the shy one, but getting to know you was a little hard when you said so little.

“I don’t know what changed, honestly. It was like you had a million and one different things you wanted to talk about. I learned that you trusted few people and I knew I was one of them the second you talked my ear off about how you probably would have pursued a career in music instead of law.”

Jay’s mouth quirks. “I remember that.”

“What I’m trying to say is, I know you’re being honest with me now. The fact that you said all of that in a noodle shop tells me more than you know.”

He chuckles. “It’s a little poetic, isn’t it?”

“Considering we spent maybe half of our time together eating ramen, I’d say so.”

He squeezes your hand. “The last thing I want you is for you to feel like I’m forcing you to say something you don’t want to, or even forgive me. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do something you aren’t ready to do.”

“One thing you should know about me is that I always do as I please.” You squeeze his hand back. “You’ll know how I feel, Jay. Right now, I feel very strongly about you.”

The two of you look at each other before the doorbell chimes. You two pull your hands apart as if you’re two teenagers caught holding hands. Jay laughs once he sees your mouth forming that same bashful smile he fell for all those years ago before clearing his throat and enjoying the rest of his dinner.

As for you, the warmth of the broth is almost as warm as your cheeks.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Nothing is going according to plan.

The Hybe case has taken all of your effort and resources, as well as your mental sanity. As the date for the next settlement hearing, and likely the final one, draws nearer, you feel the walls closing within you with no way to stop it.

It’s taken a toll on you. You’re sure everyone in the office can see it. Sunoo creeps quietly into your office with a polite bow every time he delivers what you ask for, ceasing to make small conversation when he can see how little sleep you’ve gotten. Riki and Jungwon are the same, waving to you from outside of your office because you’ve spent a majority of your time there.

Jay’s noticed it as well. He remembers the moments when you’d hole yourself in your apartment due to exam stress and when things with your family affected you. Back then he would try everything in his power to get you to come out of the cave you created, whether it be staying in his car until you were ready to see him or dropping off meals for you.

It’s not so different now, except this is occurring in the workplace. He sees the dark circles under your eyes and the way your shoulders slump when you’re working at your desk. Jay sees the way you shake your head to fight to stay awake and how unfocused you’ve become during meetings.

Everyone in the office is losing their hope about winning this case. Hybe has drained all of the resources every attorney has put into fighting it. Heeseung feels the pressure from the clients, which in turn has everyone else worrying about if this was a case they were going to lose. The hope everybody exhibited from the beginning of the case until now has dimmed. Nobody knows what went wrong or why team morale has changed for the worse.

It’s late on a Friday night when Jay catches you still in your office. Your coat is still hanging behind your chair and he can see the tissues around your garbage can. His heart lurches when he puts two and two together, and races all over the office until he finds you walking out of the bathroom.

You look at him with bloodshot eyes and tears at the brim. Jay’s tie feels tight against his collar and his suit jacket suddenly feels too warm on his body. Your nimble fingers tremble beside you as you catch your breath, halfway between embarrassed for being caught crying and fighting the urge to jump into Jay’s arms. He hates seeing you cry and he hates knowing that there’s nothing he can do to make you feel better.

Jay makes the decision for you. He wastes no time and tugs you closer to his chest.

He doesn’t pay any mind to your tears soaking his dress shirt, opting to put one hand behind your head. He strokes your hair and wraps his other arm around you to hold you securely within him, using what little momentum he has to rock your bodies from side to side. It feels right to have you in his arms like this. Jay has fantasized about the day you’d let him touch you like this, so intimately woven together as if the two of you were always meant to be together.

Your face feels hot against his chest. Jay feels you rest your cheek on his shoulder and he fights the urge to press a kiss to your head. The office is eerily quiet, with everyone else having left hours earlier. Jay was stuck in a late night meeting before heading back to the office to pick up his belongings for the night. He’s glad he came back.

“Sorry,” you croak, voice sore from holding your tears at bay. Jay lifts his hand to wipe the tears off of your cheek with this thumb.

“Don’t be,” he tells you. “God knows how many times I’ve cried in this bathroom.”

You smile. “You’ve cried in the women’s restroom?”

Jay pinches your arm. “You know what I mean.”

The two of you stay like that for another minute and bask in the silence. Half of the lights have turned off due to lack of movement and it feels liminal to be holding one another without the judgment or prying eyes of others. Jay coaxes you to your office and gently holds your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he pulls you down on the couch. You don’t fight him, letting him pull your body down next to his until your feet are tucked underneath you with your head resting on his shoulder.

Jay doesn’t want to push his luck. He’s sure you can feel his heart beating from where you sit. But your head is within reach and experimentally places his cheek on top of you. When you won’t move away, he closes his eyes for a brief moment and thanks whoever is watching him for the opportunity to be this close to you again.

“Life is so hard,” you say, grabbing his hand and toying with the rings on his fingers. “I feel like nothing I’m doing is amounting to anything.”

“That’s not true,” Jay says to you. He fights the urge to smile when he sees you pick a ring off of his finger and place it on your own hand. “You’ve done a lot of good, you know that? You wouldn’t be here today if you didn’t.”

You return the ring back to Jay’s hand. “I know. This case is keeping me up at night. I get nightmares about Ahn’s stupid, smug grin after telling us we wasted our time trying to fight Hybe.”

“You and I both. Sometimes, our efforts feel futile when all we do is stare at paperwork and hold empty promises to our clients.”

You nod in agreement. “I just want to be at a place where I don’t feel like I’m fucking things up all the time. I spent so long trying to run away from everything but I got tired of doing that before I moved back to Korea. I want to rest.”

The two of you remain silent for a few peaceful moments. It doesn’t feel awkward and neither of you feel pressed to say anything. The comfort that you feel with Jay is something he’s been praying for. He’d reckon that the person he was when you first joined the office would almost doubt the fact that you're comfortable resting in his arms. To him, this is a sign that you’re starting to trust him again.

“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?” He tries not to smile when you shake your head.

“Can you stay here with me?”

Eventually, he convinces you to go home after a tiring day. Jay calls a taxi for you and waits with you until it arrives. The smile you give him makes him feel like there’s nothing he can’t achieve, and it isn’t until you kiss his cheek that Jay feels as though he might melt into a puddle.

“Get home safe, okay?” you ask of him.

“Anything for you.”

He closes the door behind you and watches the taxi drive away until it’s out of sight. Jay pulls his phone out and begins to hover this thumb over a certain phone number he hasn’t called in a while, arguing back and forth with himself until he hastily presses the ‘call’ button and puts the phone to his ear.

One, two. Click.

“Hello?” comes the voice from the other line.

“Hey,” Jay says. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry to call you out of the blue. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but I’m calling about Y/N.”

“Is she okay?”

“Relatively speaking.” Jay takes a deep breath before continuing. “We’re working on this case together. I’m sure she’s told you about it and I think it’s taking a toll on her. You know how she gets. She closes herself off because she doesn't want other people to worry about her or feel like a burden.”

“Sounds like classic Y/N if you ask me.”

Jay laughs. “I found her crying in the office tonight and we talked a little. I just sent her home in a cab. I know I don’t have the right to ask anything of you, but this is Y/N. Can you give her a call and make sure she’s alright?”

The voice on the other end is silent for a brief moment. Jay holds his breath and he swears he can feel his lungs constrict within him. If anything, he’s prepared to have his heart broken in two and for everything he knows to fall apart around him.

It doesn’t.

“I’m in Seoul, actually. Don’t tell anyone, though. I’ll visit Y/N.”

“Thank you,” Jay breathes.

“Of course. We both know she would have kept to herself until it’s too late.”

“That we do.” Jay swallows harshly. “I also just wanted to say…I’m sorry. For everything. I wasn’t the greatest friend, haven’t been the greatest friend, but I want to do everything I can to make things right. I’ve already apologized to Y/N but apologizing to you feels right.”

He hears a small chuckle from the other side. “You’re a good person, Jay, even if you make bad decisions every once in a while. The fact that you’re calling me after everything you’ve done tells me how much you’ve changed.”

“I…thank you. I don’t know what I’m looking for. But apologizing feels right.”

“It’s a good start. Thanks for calling, man.”

“Take care.”

The line ends and Jay walks back into the office with a happy heart.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

A knock comes at your apartment door and your heart starts to spike. It’s nine in the evening and you’re sitting on your couch in pajamas with an empty bag of chips on the coffee table. Your ears perk up at the sound and you clutch your phone in your hands until you see a notification come though.

Dearest Brother (Korean cell): Open up!

You lift the blanket off of you with record speed with Miso tailing behind you and open the front door without a second thought.

“Namjoon,” you breathe.

“In the flesh,” he says with that same boyish smile he gives you when he sees you after coming home from overseas. “Are you gonna let me in or are you gonna let me freeze to death?”

“With that attitude, you can starve too,” you say, angling your body away from the door for him to walk in. Namjoon takes his shoes off and slips his feet into the slippers you always keep for him. Miso nips at his ankles until he bends down to pick her up, cradling your beloved in his arms. “What the hell are you doing in Seoul?”

“The boys and I got back earlier this morning,” Namjoon tells you. “Promotions are over and we get two weeks to rest before we start preparing for the next tour.”

“God, I can’t believe you guys are going on tour again,” you say, patting the spot next to you on the couch for Namjoon to sit on. “It feels like you guys just started working on the album.”

“Seokjin said the same thing,” says Namjoon, who puts his feet on the coffee table before you chide him with a playful slap to the bicep. “The guys and I decided we weren’t gonna see each other until tour rehearsals. God knows we’ve spent too much time together in the past few months.”

“How are they?” you ask him. “I’ve only seen updates on those fan accounts that update your every move, which is somewhat creepy but every wholesome at the same time.”

Namjoon laughs. “The guys are fine. Taehyung and Hobi spent most of the promotions shopping and came home with two duffel bags each. Yoongi’s probably gonna sleep for the next two weeks. Jungkook got ripped, and I mean ripped.”

“I saw that, Jesus. He sent me a progress photo and all I could think about was how small he used to be before you guys debuted.”

“Jimin’s just…Jimin. He says he misses you and that the two of you should get together before it gets busy.”

“I would love that.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I missed you guys a lot. More than I care to admit, probably.”

“See, I told you all our sibling rivalry would disappear when we got older.”

“Yah. Whatever you say. We’re still enemies at heart.” Miso purrs against Namjoon’s lap. “I think she likes you more than me.”

Namjoon smiles down at Miso. “Jay called me earlier tonight. He says you haven’t been feeling very well.”

“Jay is a tattletale.”

“Did he lie?”

You sigh. “No, he didn’t.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“So many things that I don’t even know where to begin. There’s the Hybe case, which has made me want to blow my brains out.”

Namjoon nods. “Ah, the Hybe case. It’s funny what a small label could do in ten years.”

“Seems as though your underground rapper dreams came true. Now you’re touring the world and forgetting to bring me back expensive gifts from abroad.” Namjoon chooses not to comment. “You know attorney Ahn, right? Well, he sent us dozens upon dozens of legal files for us to sort through before our next hearing. We’ve gone through eighty percent of them but it feels like we’re going nowhere. It feels useless”

“You’re doing more good than you know,” he tells you. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re giving a lot of hope to a lot of young musicians.”

You sigh. “I hope so. And then there’s the whole thing with Jay…I can’t remember what I last told you. I know I said that my feelings towards him have changed and that I’ve forgiven him, but spending as much time as I have has made me rethink a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“Like whether or not it’s stupid of me to give him a second chance or if I should feel ashamed for liking him in the first place.” Namjoon watches you frown. “All those years and my feelings for him never went away.”

“Well, we can’t control how we feel.”

“He hurt me, Joon.”

“I know,” says Namjoon, “but that was years ago. In the months you’ve worked with him, has Jay given you any reason to doubt his sincerity?”

You think about it. “No, he hasn’t.”

“Has he apologized for what he did and is he being respectful of you?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitating.

“There’s your answer. You can’t let the past dictate people. I’m sure there are parts of you that have outgrown your younger self.”

“You know, I can hear the voices of people I met back in New York telling me not to give Jay the time of day and that I should block his number when we finish working this case.”

“Your New York friends knew the person that was angry at him, though. You stopped talking about Jay two years before you moved.”

“I know. I don’t know what’s stopping me from going for it.”

“Have you ever considered that you’re afraid things will turn out the same way it did all those years ago?”

You roll your eyes. “All the time, Joon.”

“Okay, fair point. Have you considered that you’re the one in control of how you react to things?” You purse your lips and Namjoon takes it as a sign to keep talking. “You can think of a million different ways this plays out. Maybe you guys break up after a week. Maybe you get old and live together until you’re ninety. But all of those scenarios are just what-ifs. You’ll never know until you make a decision and stick with it, otherwise your fears hold you back from reaching your true potential.”

“But what if it fails? I’m scared of becoming the person I was back then.”

“Well I, for one, know you’re much stronger than that. Working in corporate law makes you tougher, not weaker. But to speak on your concern, you’re the only person who can control how you react to things. If the timing isn’t right and you feel it coming, then you let go.”

His words sit with you as the soft sounds of the television plays in the back of your mind. For a few months, you’d been worried that you jumped the gun and forgiven Jay in ways the you of the past would never understand. The deep seeded fears of being rejected and left behind creep into the forefront of your mind every so often, leaving you a paralyzed mess.

But Namjoon’s right. You can only control your reaction to what cards you’re dealt with. Any wrongdoing by the hands of others isn’t your fault nor are they your responsibilities.

“As for the Hybe case,” Namjoon says as he brings you out of your thoughts, “I think I have a solution.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nods once. “The guys and I have been talking about this for a while. We’ve known about other musicians suing Hybe longer than you’ve known about this case and we didn’t know how we could help. On one hand, Hybe gave us everything we have now, you know? They gave us the opportunity to become musicians. I don’t know what got lost in translation, but it seems that fewer and fewer artists are able to experience what we did.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“We’re going to make a statement. With your approval, of course.” Namjoon tells you. “I was going to call Heeseung on Monday to set up a meeting with you and surprise you at the office, but tonight seemed like a better time to drop by.”

“Wait.” You use the remote to pause the TV. “You guys are going to speak at the hearing?”

“All seven of us,” he confirms. “It’s not fair that everyone else has to work twice as hard because of Hybe’s standards. We’ve been given this platform and it’s only fair that we use it to help other people.”

“God, I could cry right now.” Namjoon chuckles at the tears that have formed at the corner of your eyes and picks up a tissue before handing it to you. “You don’t know what this means to me, Joon.”

“I always told you I’d be here for you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I thought that meant buying me gifts paying for my takeout,” you joke, swatting his arm, “not saving the biggest case of my career.”

“I’m really proud of you, Y/N. Not a lot of people are as resilient as you.” He smiles down at you. “Oh, and you should also know about Jay.”

“What about him?”

“He apologized to me too,” Namjoon says. “I know what people sound like when they want something from me or say things because they know it’s what I want to hear. But Jay didn’t sound like that. He didn’t have to say anything since he was calling about you, but that in itself lets me know how sorry he is.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to know. Besides, it’s a Friday night and you have the entire weekend before you see him. Let’s watch cartoons like old times, yeah?”

“Yeah, but you better not sleep in the middle of the second episode.”

Namjoon laughs. “You wound me.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

For the first time in a while, you don’t feel imminent doom as Monday approaches.

The sky is as sunny as you feel when you walk into the office. Sunoo and Jungwon seem rather pleased that you’re spending more time outside of your office and Heeseung makes several comments about how your mood has shifted from how it was last week.

“You’re telling me Namjoon stopped by and you didn’t tell me?” Heeseung chides. “I feel like chopped liver.”

“That’s because you are,” you tease. “The guys are resting for the next two weeks before tour preparations. Namjoon, Jimin, and I are going to get dinner one of these days if you’d like to join.”

“I’m taking you up on this invite, thank you very much. Did you know Joon was gonna be back in town?”

“I didn’t, actually.” A knock comes from behind you and the man of the hour appears. “Jay called him.”

“Am I in trouble?” Jay asks. You smile and shake your head.

“Just the opposite. Thanks for calling my brother. It meant a lot to me.”

“You looked like you needed him and I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he tells you sincerely.

“It’s great that you’re both here, actually.” You close the door behind your office. “Namjoon and I talked about a lot of things, one of them being the case. He told me how he and the guys have felt helpless in the past few months to see their labelmates suffer through corporate greed. He told me that they’re willing to testify and speak on our behalf against Hybe.”

“What?”

You nod. “I think they’re starting to understand how unfair the new recording contracts are and want to make a difference. I know Judge Han’s granddaughters are fans of Bangtan, so I think their presence could sway the decision.”

“You fight dirty,” Heeseung says, bumping his hip with yours. “I love it. Are they ready to go up against Ahn?”

You shake your head. “They’re gonna schedule a meeting with us sometime in the next week to prepare. It’s going to be a tight fit with their tour preparations and our hearing, but if all goes according to plan, Ahn should be willing to move the hearing date earlier.”

“This is fucking incredible,” Jay swears. “We owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing,” you tell him. “I love working with you two, honestly. Namjoon however…you might owe him a few.”

“I’ll pay for dinner under the company card and say it was a client business,” Heeseung says. “It’s a done deal. I’m gonna let the others know, if that’s okay?”

Heeseung leaves when you give in the greenlight, leaving you and Jay standing alone in your office.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Jay says. “I owe you one.”

“Seriously, Jay. You owe me nothing. It comes with the job.” He laughs and shakes his head.

“I’m bad at this.”

Jay bites his lip and reaches his hand out for yours, holding a loose grip in case you want to pull back. When you don’t, he takes the opportunity to push his fingers through yours.

“I’d love to take you out on a date,” he says. “As a thank you. But more so because I really like you and want to take you out like you deserve.”

You squeeze his hand. “If I said I wanted to stay indoors because this week will likely kick my ass, what would you do?”

Jay pretends to think. “In that case, I think I’ll cook us dinner while you watch with a glass of wine. If I recall correctly, that’s how most of our Friday nights looked like.”

You bite your lip. “You make a mean steak.”

“Whatever you want is what you'll get. Although, I have a sneaking suspicion that this was your way of asking me to cook for you.”

You look at him in faux surprise. “Whatever do you mean, Park Jongseong?” Jay chuckles and takes a step closer towards you.

“Silly girl. I'll cook for us once this case is over, yeah? How does that sound?”

“Sounds like you’re after my own heart.”

Jay learns until you feel his lips land on your cheek.

“That I am.”

He leaves your office without another word and you fight the heat creeping up your neck as you bite your lip. When you turn around, you’re met with Jake and Jungwon’s prying eyes from the bullpen, and watch as they high-five each other whilst giving you an array of thumbs ups and silent applause.

You struggle to get back to work.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

In an unsurprising turn of events, Ahn folds when Namjoon takes the stands. When all is said and done, you find yourself at an all too familiar position with Jay in the kitchen and you sitting behind the counter with a glass of wine in your hands.

He’s grown up, for one. Jay’s back muscles are more defined in his t-shirt as opposed to the dress shirts he wears everyday, giving you something else to look at as he cooks dinner for the both of you. The week wasn’t as bad as you anticipated it to be, but you’re sitting in his penthouse and patting yourself on the back for making the suggestion to stay indoors.

It’s oddly comforting to feel as relaxed as you are in his space, sans wine. The buzz hit you after he gave you a tour of his place and the Jay of the present is definitely not the Jay you used to know. His tastes are elevated and his collection of instruments has nearly tripled. The artwork adorning his walls speaks for his maturity, as does the furniture in his living room. It reminds you just how much the two of you have grown up since law school and how eager you are to explore sides of him you have yet to discover.

The steak is almost done cooking and Jay has spoon-fed you mashed potatoes until they’re to your liking, and you laugh when he celebrates your approval. The seasoned asparagus sits underneath warming lights while the rest of the meal is done cooking, and it wouldn’t feel right to have dinner with Jay without commenting about how much of a professional he looks from where you’re sitting.

You know it’s the wine in your system intensifying your emotions, but you can’t help but stare at Jay’s muscles as he moves throughout the kitchen. He works effortlessly and seamlessly, never neglecting any part of the meal he’s prepared for you. The level of care and precision he’s exemplifying through his cooking, while simultaneously entertaining you, has rendered you a blushing, giggling mess. You’re sure Jay can tell that you’re already buzzed after two glasses, but he promised to drive you home so you don’t have anything to worry about.

Jay looks criminally good in dark clothes. His laid back attire makes him look more attractive to you compared to the suit and tie he wears everyday. Something about seeing Jay like he used to be all those years ago stirs something within you. It makes you cross your legs in your seat and perch forward with your elbows on the counter below you as he puts the finishing touches to the meal.

You requested nothing fancy for tonight upon knowing Jay would drop everything for you to secure a date at the most expensive restaurant and pay the bill to back it up. That could be saved for another today. Tonight is less about wanting Jay to prove himself than wanting to feel comfortable around him, as this would be your first time hanging out with him in his space since law school.

When he’s finished cooking, Jay pulls the smaller dining table towards the tall window overlooking the city below and seats you in your chair opposite his. He tops you off with another glass of wine when you nod, pouring himself a glass as well.

Conversation flows like the two of you are out on a first date. You are, in a sense, but you’re also two long lost best friends who happen to have deep feelings for each other, finding yourselves once again. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s settled in your system with the headstart you had compared to Jay, or maybe it’s the soft look of adoration in Jay’s eyes when you laugh at his jokes, but tonight you feel as though you’re the only woman in his life who matters to him.

“I really missed you,” you tell him. Jay looks back at you from the kitchen as he clears the finished dinner plates. Too full to entertain dessert, he leaves it in the fridge until you’re ready to eat again. “I missed this too, you know? Coming over and doing nothing but talking to you, I mean.”

“I’m here if you’ll have me,” Jay says. You’ve followed him to the kitchen, albeit wobbling because of the wine. Jay reaches out and steadies you with his arms until you’re pushing yourself to hug his body with your arms around his middle.

“You’re so warm.” You turn your head to peck at his chest before letting your cheek rest against him. Jay closes his eyes and wraps his arms around your body too, his own lips finding the crown of your head.

“You’re even warmer, but I’ll bet it’s because you had half a bottle of wine.”

You playfully smack his arm. “Hey. You said you’d drive me home so I took that as a sign to get tipsy.”

Jay laughs. “I thought you might say something like that. Good thing I have a higher tolerance, isn’t it?”

You nod against him. “It’s the best.”

“Do you want to go home now?” Jay asks carefully when the two of you have stood in silence for a good minute or two. When you shake your head, he bites back a smile. “Do you want to watch a movie? You can pick something off of Netflix and we can watch it until you’re ready to go home.”

“Sounds like a perfect idea,” you say, sighing out of content.

Jay lets you change into one of his oversized shirts that covers you just enough and you walk out of the bathroom looking like sin. It takes everything in him not to comment because he doesn’t want to scare you away. Jay comes to the realization that you likely aren’t wearing shirts underneath because of how the fabric rode up your thigh as you sat on the couch beside him. He desperately tries not to pay any mind to it for the sake of your comfortability.

Truthfully, Jay wants to wrap you up in his arms and put the blanket he got from his closet over the both of you. But he’s letting you take the lead when it comes to physical contact, unsure of just how comfortable you are with him yet. He’s only just gotten you back in his life. He doesn’t want to scare you away any time soon.

The movie you picked is somewhat interesting, although Jay can’t say he’s too keen on paying attention. In the first ten minutes, you’ve shifted to rest your head on his shoulder and his arm is now resting behind you to accommodate your body. He feels you dip yourself lower as the movie progresses until you’re fully leaning on his chest, and Jay has a sneaking suspicion you’ve been slowly edging your way into this spot to not make him feel uncomfortable either.

He puts his free hand on your hip and squeezes your body to let you know he’s right with you. Jay watches you smile and try to hide it. He thinks it makes you look even more attractive than you already are.

Jay doesn’t know what happens next. Another thirty minutes pass by with easy conversation between the two of you. One thing leads to another and he feels you shifting in front of him, and his mind thinks you’re getting up to tell him you want to leave.

But you don’t. You shift to face him and push your body up until your face is right in front of his.

He can feel your breath on his lips. The scent of wine is long gone but your eyes look like they’re searching for something. Jay sees the way your throat constricts and he tries not to look down past where it isn’t appropriate.

“Is it bad that I want to kiss you?” you ask him just above a whisper.

Jay doesn’t say anything. He doesn't need to. Instead, he leans forward to push his lips against yours.

His lips touch your plush ones as his hands encircle your waist to hold you steady, like he’s afraid you’ll topple over on the couch. Your own hands immediately touch his chest and scrape the fabric like an experimental touch. Your lips feel so soft against his and the sounds of your lips smacking against one another become more audible than the soft volume of the television in the background.

Jay pulls back to see you suppress a grin, but he pinches your side to get you to smile for him.

“You’re a really good kisser,” you say. “Had any practice?”

“Just my pillow and a few posters,” he jokes. “I needed to practice so I could kiss you like you deserve.”

He watches you blush. “Don’t say that. I feel like I’m sixteen again.”

Jay pecks your lips and lingers for a few seconds. “Good. You make me feel like a teenager too.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, shifting yourself until you’re perched on his lap. Jay watches from beneath you as you steady your body by placing both hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg across his lap.

“Yeah,” he whispers just before you lean down to kiss him again.

Jay feels your hands wrap around his neck to hold him in front of you like you’re afraid he’s going to push you away again. To quell your fears, his own hands take hold of your wrists before he holds your fingers in his own and gives you a gentle squeeze. You seem to loosen up as you smile into the kiss, prompting Jay to do the same.

Holding you feels familiar. It feels like coming home after a long, tiring day at the office to the person he loves the most. Having you in his arms after all this time has Jay rethinking his future and where you fit in it. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s ready to risk all that he has if that means seeing you as happy as you are in this very moment.

You whine when Jay’s lips detach from yours but he smirks into your skin when he hears a soft moan coming from your own upon placing his just below your ear. He thinks how his younger self would’ve killed to hear the sounds you’re making right now and how lucky he is that this opportunity is being granted towards him. You sound like you’re enjoying yourself and that’s all Jay could ever ask of you.

Your hand creeps below his shirt until your nails are raking his abdomen and you moan when you feel the ridges on his body. He sighs against your neck and you’re left speechless at how his physique has changed since the last time you saw Jay shirtless. The ache in your belly leaves you wanting more and you arch your body until it feels as though you’re completely giving into him before pressing your palms against his body.

You two kiss with fervor as the minutes go by. Suddenly, Jay feels your body beginning to rock yourself on his lap as your lips find his own. He feels you tug on his shirt until you push it up his neck, breaking contact with him so that he can pull his shirt off completely.

Your lips feel like heaven against his own skin as you begin to explore every inch of him. He feels you peppering kisses along his jawline and closes his eyes to bask in the feeling of your body so close to his. Jay lets his hands roam around your waist and when you don’t move to push his hands off as his fingers dip beneath the shirt you’re wearing, he smiles to himself and lets his fingertips push the fabric upwards just slightly. The feeling of his hands on your body has you rocking forward until your chest is in front of Jay’s face. You gasp when you realize how hard he’s become underneath you.

“I’m sorry,” Jay begins to apologize. “You’re very attractive.”

You look down and tilt your head, experimentally pressing your lower half on his crotch. Jay emits a low moan, making your mouth quirk in excitement.

“You’re very attractive,” you tell him, slowly rocking your body backwards and forwards.

You move to push Jay’s hands closer to your body and he gets the hint. He uses the momentum to push and pull you into him at the pace you set, watching as your mouth opens in euphoria. Jay finds it incredibly attractive the way your eyebrows pinch in arousal every time the tip of his clothed cock bumps your covered core, and if what you’re wearing is anything to go by, he was correct in assuming you weren’t wearing shorts underneath his shirt.

Your pace quickens with every pass of his cock beneath you. He gets harder and harder, and you get wetter and wetter. Your own slick is rubbing against you from the fabric of your panties and it becomes almost too much to bear. Jay’s hands have found their way to your back as your own body pushes against his. He feels your tits pressing against his chest and the desperation in your hips as you gain momentum while he begins to take control from beneath you.

Jay bucks into you until you let out a particularly loud gasp. His strength surprises you, as does the force with which he thrusts into you. His clothed cock hits you at the most delicious angle while you’re fighting to stand upright against his lap, fighting to grip the couch and his body at the same time. Jay doesn’t let you breathe, however, until you’re pushing him away so that you can access his lips once again.

The kiss is wet and messy. It’s hot in the room and you’re pushing Jay’s hands until they cup your breasts. He pinches your nipples and watches in pleasure as you throw your head back.

“My baby likes that, doesn't she?” He pinches them again when you nod and it sends a shock straight down your spine and where you need him the most.

Jay lifts the shirt just enough to uncover your chest and brings your right bud into his mouth. He licks it with his tongue in an effort to tease you until you’re squirming in his lap. He does the same with the other nipple until you’re pushing yourself against his cock that he grunts and nips at the bud before sucking it with his mouth.

The pleasure is almost too good to form words. Your mouth stays at a permanent ‘O’ with every swipe of Jay’s tongue and he pushes your shirt until you take it off for him. He places his hands on your breasts and squeezes them in his palms as if getting to know your body better, almost like he wants to commit you to his memory.

But you’re impatient. After the long years of daydreaming about Jay, you want nothing more than to have him inside of you.

“Please let me have it,” you whisper against his lips, pushing your body down onto his. “I need it so bad, Jay.”

“We can’t,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to push his luck. “I-I need to drive you home.”

Not even he believes this pathetic excuse.

“I don’t care. Drive me home tomorrow.”

Jay doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He flexes his fingers to distract himself before giving in, placing his grip on your waist and pushing you down onto him. He hears you gasp at the sudden movement and chides himself for being so turned on by you when mere moments ago he was thinking logically.

“Just the tip,” you mutter against his mouth to convince him. “Please.”

“Just the tip,” Jay agrees, pushing his trousers just enough to free his cock. To the best of your ability, you take your panties off without moving from his lap and throw it behind him. He finally feels your pussy glide over him and throws his head back, feeling pure euphoria.

Jay’s cock is thick and long, and you feel it throbbing between your legs. The friction is too delicious to ignore, as is the wet sounds consisting of your arousal covering him. He lifts his head up to watch you bite your lip and look at him with desperation in your eyes. It’s the kind of expression he’s wanted to see from you for so long. Jay can only hope you know that this is how he looks at you.

It’s quiet in the room, save for wanton breaths and the sound of your own arousal mixing with his precum. It’s so erotic to see you as desperate for him as he is for you because he’s yearned for this moment for so long. Jay bites his lip with every pass as you hover above his tip and he tries his hardest not to buck his hips, instead allowing you to move at your own pace.

When you catch the tip of his cock inside of your pussy, the two of you let out an audible gasp at the sudden intrusion. His thick head breaches your fluttering hole as he grabs your waist to prevent you from moving when his tip is fully sheathed inside of you.

“Holy fuck,” you moan, balancing yourself on his hot tip. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Jay asks. “It does, doesn’t it?” You nod rapidly and Jay kisses the side of your mouth before moving to your neck.

You keep yourself steady by gripping his shoulders that are hot to the touch. He flexes when your nails dig into him, causing you to moan at the sight. Jay feels the movement of your throat as he kisses your neck and grunts when he feels your pussy clench around him.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until your legs give out and you’re holding onto Jay’s neck as a silent plea for him to take over. He gets the hint, wrapping his arms around your body until you’ve fallen limp against his chest. Jay uses his leverage to slowly pull himself out of you before pushing the head of his cock back in.

The moan you emit against his ear makes him feel like the two of you are starring in your very own sextape. It causes Jay to jerk his hips unexpectedly and push another inch of himself into your pussy by accident. He’s about to apologize until he feels your pussy clenching around him at the sudden intrusion.

“You’re so big,” you whisper to him. “S-So big. So good.”

“You feel fucking amazing,” Jay praises. “Such a wet pussy and I’ve barely done anything to you.”

You whimper at his words while closing your eyes shut and move your head until your cheek rests comfortably on his shoulder. The angle allows you to press kisses to Jay’s jawline and you do so until you feel him begging to thrust into you once again.

The tempo he sets is slow and delicious. He feels every drag as your mixed arousal coats the rest of his cock and Jay feels as though he’s found pure euphoria on earth, the kind that men search for but never seem to find. The shallow thrusts cause his mouth to hang open and his fingers itching to touch your clit, but he doesn’t want to move unless you tell him to.

It isn’t until you’re pushing yourself down onto his length that he speaks again.

“Baby,” he warns. “I thought–”

“Changed my mind,” you tell him desperately. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Jay nods. “I want to. Fuck, I want to.”

You kiss him hard before pushing down on him. “I just want you.”

Jay’s body falls limp when he feels your body glide up and down his cock like you’ve trained your entire life for this very moment. He sees the sweat building between your brows and licks his lips at the way your tits bounce against your chest. It’s sensual the way you look on top of him. Jay brings one of your nipples in his mouth and makes a home there as your hips begin to work his own.

His body feels like it was made for you to use. The desperation at which his own hips chase yours should make him feel embarrassed, but he feels like a lovesick fool. In this moment, everything he’s ever wanted to say to you lies in the power of his thrusts and the way his lips move with yours. It makes him feel like there’s nothing in this world that could take you away from him.

He pushes himself up until you’re clinging onto his body for dear life. The sounds you make push him even harder against your body, drilling his hard cock within you until you’re moaning like somebody’s filming you. It’s all too much for Jay to handle, and he’s glad he feels you come undone before him.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you moan out, clenching against his cock as it works your body until completion.

Jay pulls out and finishes on your ass just after you’ve come down from your own high. You jolt when you feel his come on your skin but move to kiss him as the two of you come down from your respective highs and he feels your heartbeat against his chest, smiling into the kiss.

“You’re amazing,” he tells you between kisses. He tries to speak but you silence him with more pecks. “Let me clean you up, yeah?”

Your heart feels warm. You nod and let him pry your body off of his, carefully laying on your stomach so that the couch doesn’t see the mess Jay created. He comes back a moment later with a warm washcloth and his trousers zipped up before wiping you clean. The rag is tossed onto the floor as he pulls your body towards him, wrapping your legs around his torso, and pulling your lips to his once more.

“Stay the night?” he asks you.

“That was my plan, but I’m glad you brought it up before I did.”

Jay pinches your thigh and hears you laugh. He could die like this.

“Since it’s a weekend, I think you and I have a lot of catching up to do.” Jay kisses down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, gliding his lips along your stomach until they’ve reached just below your belly button.

“Oh? And what is it you’re promising, Park Jongseong?”

Jay smirks up at you from where he’s positioned.

“I have an idea in mind,” he says coyly, moving his mouth to press a chast kiss on your slit. “It has a lot to do with my mouth and my fingers.” Your body arches when Jay’s tongue licks a bold stripe up your slit.

“I like the sound of that. Would you let me return the favor?”

“Only if you cum on my tongue twice.”

You push his face into your core.

“Better get a head start.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

#enhypen x reader #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #enhypen smut #jay smut #jongseong smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong fanfiction #park jongseong fluff #park jongseong angst #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fic: walk the line #jay #my writing*

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