「pairing」 : wooyoung x fem!reader
「word count」 : 12.8k
「synopsis」 : you were in the woods one day when you came across an injured wooyoung who was being chased by hunters. he had expected you to turn him in, but to his surprise, you didn't; you led them away before offering to help him. however, this was only going to be the beginning for you and him.
「genre」 : hybrid!au, fox hybrid!wooyoung, human!reader, angst, fluff, smut
「warning」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, blood, mentions of guns, cussing, wooyoung has severe trust issues with humans, reader stitches his wound, mentions of abuse, familial issues, violence, petnames (sweetheart, baby, babydoll, love, my love...), kissing, rough makeout, unprotected sex, breast play, bulge kink, breeding, creampie, knotting, biting/marking, fingering, cum eating, clit play, overstimulation, cockwarming, mentions of war, wooyoung is unsure in the beginning, mentions of a rut, teasing, big dick!wooyoung, reader has trouble sleeping, lmk if I missed anything!
「notes」 : I wrote this in the span of 12 hrs so I apologize if it seems rushed or kind of all over the place 🫠 but this was a sudden brain rot so I just started writing...
The air was crisp as you sat against the rough trunk of a tree, the bark digging into your skin through your thin jacket. You didn’t seem to mind, though; your attention was far too sucked into the book that was in your hands. You hummed softly as you turned the page, not realizing that you were almost already finished with the book.
A loud gunshot rang through the air, causing you to jump, the book falling from your hands as you scrambled to your feet. There weren’t supposed to be hunters in this area of the woods. The birds squawk loudly overhead, and you start to panic.
Completely forgetting about your book, you rushed in the direction in which the gunshot had come from. You smacked a few branches out of your way until you came to a clearing, yet what you found shocked you.
A man hunched against a tree, his hand clutching his side. Yet that wasn’t what caught your attention; no, it was the ears that sat on top of his black hair. The fox hybrid ears that you had only seen a few times, seeing as the species tends to keep to themselves.
Sensing your presence, he looked up, meeting your shocked gaze with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected there to be another person in the woods. Were you with the hunters who were after him?
“Are yo–” You started to ask, taking a step closer to him when you noticed the crimson liquid that coated his hand, but he quickly shushed you. Confused, you opened your mouth once more but quickly closed it when you heard rushed footsteps.
“Hey!” A voice shouted, causing your head to snap over to a group of hunters, all of them holding rifles, aiming directly at you. Your heart leaped into your throat, and your hands shot up in surrender. You could tell by their appearance that they weren’t just any regular hunters. No, the insignia they wore on their coats was from a very prominent hybrid hunter organization.
You could see the fox hybrid from the corner of your eye, but you didn’t dare glance over, not wanting to give them any hints as to where he was because you were sure that he was who they were after.
Swallowing thickly, you opened your mouth, “can I help you?”
“Did you see a fox hybrid run by here?” One of the men in the front asked, his rifle still aimed at you, and your nerves spiked seeing how close his finger was to the trigger. These people were ruthless and would kill just about any and everything that got in their way.
Wooyoung, in turn, watched you, his heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of you throwing him under the bus for your own safety. It's what every human does, after all. So he started to rack his brain for any possible ways to get out of this alive. That was until he heard you speak, his ears twitching slightly in shock.
“N-No, it’s just been me out here.” You spoke as your heart hammered against your ribs the longer he held you at gunpoint. The hunter looked at you skeptically as he took a step in your direction, and you quickly spoke again to keep him from coming any closer and finding the dark-haired male. “But I did hear scuffling in that direction on my way over!” You spoke quickly, pointing in a different direction, and the hunter raised an eyebrow, staring you down for a moment, waiting for you to show any signs of lying, but he thought you would have to be some kind of idiot to lie while you had multiple guns pointed directly at you.
“Thank you.” He nodded curtly before lowering the rifle, which in turn resulted in the others lowering theirs as well. You offered a meek smile, your hands still in the air as you watched him motion the others in the direction you pointed them in.
The air around you was silent as you watched their retreating figures, your heart beating so loud you could hear it through your own ears. Then, when they were far enough away, Wooyoung let out a groan, which pulled you out of your daze.
Without much thought to it, you rushed over to make sure he was okay, but as soon as you reached out to him, he growled, bearing his teeth at you, “Don’t touch me.”
He looked at you, a mixture of pain and fear pooling in his dark eyes, and you felt your heart drop. Swallowing thickly, you shrugged off your jacket, not caring that the cold air nipped at your bare arms, and held it out to him.
“I just want to help; I promise I’m not here to hurt you.” You spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more, and he looked between you and the jacket you were holding out. Reluctantly, he took the clothing, his fingers brushing the palm of your hand, sending a flurry of sparks along your skin. “My cabin isn’t too far from here, I can tend to your wound, and you can go after that. I just want to help.” You reassured him, keeping a comfortable distance between the two of you.
Wooyoung looked at you skeptically for a few long moments, weighing the pros and cons. He could either send you away and risk bleeding out in these very woods before he could get home, or worse, the hunters find him again. Or he could swallow his pride for a bit and allow you, a human, to help him and then he’d be free to go on his own way.
“Fine.” His tone was cold as he pushed himself off of the tree, and you stepped forward but stopped short when he let out a low growl.
“You need to add more pressure to it.” You stated as you took a step towards him despite the warning in his eyes and his ears flattened against his head. All signs that you should back off, but you pushed the fear to the side and walked towards him until you were just inches away.
He watched you with a keen gaze as you moved around him to wrap your jacket around his torso and then tie it. You jumped when a pained hiss left his lips, and his hand grabbed your wrist tightly, mumbling an apology as you finished tying off the knot after he released your wrist. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do until you got back to your cabin.
You wanted to offer to help him walk, but judging by the way his ears still haven’t relaxed and his tail is tucked down, he wasn’t going to let you do more than just lead him. Stepping away once more, you noticed that he relaxed a little bit when you weren’t so close, so you took the chance to point in the direction of your cabin.
“It’s just this way, if you need help let me kn–”
“I can walk on my own," he growled. You quickly nodded, backing off and allowing him to follow you.
–
It took a little bit longer to get to your cabin than you originally thought because Wooyoung had twisted his ankle while running, so he lagged behind. You wanted so badly to help him, but you knew not to overstep any boundaries for your own safety. But the two of you made it inside without too much of a problem, and as soon as you shut the door, you pointed towards the couch.
“You can sit there; I have to grab my first aid kit," you told him before turning and walking down the hall, leaving Wooyoung standing there.
He looked around the living room, expecting to find any sign that you might be with those hunters. Yet all he found were paintings of various nature elements and a few photographs of you and two other girls, one he knew was a cat hybrid the moment he saw her ears.
Surprised wasn’t even the word that he would use. After the war that broke out between humans and hybrids, he was sure that no other humans treated hybrids with any semblance of respect. Moving further into the house, he was met with a strong smell of vanilla and cashmere, but your scent overpowered everything else. It was sweet like cherries, but with a hint of vanilla and sage as well—a scent he had never smelled before.
Unbeknownst to him, Wooyoung’s tail started to wave softly behind him, and his ears relaxed a bit more as he picked up on the sound of you in the other room. Even when the place felt safe, he couldn’t help but keep his guard up, knowing he’d fallen into the same trick before, which cost him severely.
After finding the first aid kit, you walked back into the living room, finding the fox limping around the room as he looked at the decorations on your walls. Letting out a small cough, you caught his attention, and he looked over at you. He then walked over to the couch that you had pointed out earlier and sat down, a groan falling from his lips as he did so.
You walked over and sat the first aid kit next to him, and he suddenly froze at how close you had gotten, a low growl reverberating from his throat. You looked over at him, finding his upper lip twitching slightly, and you took a small step back, a huff leaving your lips.
“If you want me to help, you need to let me near you.” You stated, and Wooyoung glared at you but stopped growling, and you took that as a sign. Retaking your spot in front of him, you started to reach for the knot of the jacket but stopped short; he started growling in warning once more. Titling your head to look at him, your breath hitched in your throat when you realized just how close you were to him. Your eyes trailed along his features, the sharp eyes, the beauty mark that was right under his eye, then to the few scrapes he had on his cheek and jaw. His dark eyes bore into you, captivating you, and something about his closed-off nature pulled you in.
Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you ignored his growling and undid the knot of the jacket sleeves before carefully pulling the blood-soaked cloth away. Once it was off, you threw it to the ground to deal with later. Then, without another thought, you dropped down to your knees in front of him, causing Wooyoung to look at you in surprise, the growling suddenly stopping.
“Now you can either lift your shirt or take it off; either way, I need to see the wound, "you told him as you looked up at him, missing the red that dusted his cheekbones.
He looked down at you, his hands hesitantly reaching for his shirt before pulling it up just enough to reveal his lower torso. You had to stop yourself from gawking at his toned abdomen, but that didn’t stop your heart from accelerating.
Shaking your head softly, you rose up to your knees to look at the wound, and you could tell instantly that it was a gunshot wound, which didn’t surprise you. However, you hoped that it was all the way through because you didn’t have the means to remove bullets. Without a word, you peeked around his torso to look at his back, and a sigh left your lips.
“So good and bad news,” You started, moving to sit on your heels once more to look up at him, “good news, I’m pretty sure it missed anything vital, and it went completely through, so there’s no bullet for me to take out.” You told him, and he just looked down at you, not uttering a word, “Bad news, I’ll need to stitch both the entry and exit wounds, which are going to hurt because I have nothing to numb the pain.”
“If you’re worried about me passing out, don’t. I’ll be fine, so just get on with it.” His voice was gruff as he glared down at you, and you nodded before reaching for your first aid kit.
Not a word was spoken between the two of you as you started to clean the area around the wound. When you started to clean the wound itself, Wooyoung let out a pained hiss, and you apologized before blowing on it to try and alleviate some of the pain.
Wooyoung watched you in curiosity; he had never been treated this kindly by humans. Most of the ones he’s met were assholes, to put it lightly, only wanting him to show off to their human friends like he was some kind of prize. Then, the one human he thought he could actually trust turned out to be just as bad, if not worse, than the others, and some of the wounds from then were still healing.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realized that he had been staring or that you had even said anything until you waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times before focusing on you once more, the same hard gaze returning to his eyes as he raised an eyebrow.
“I need to clean the other side.” You told him as you stood and sat on the couch next to him, but he didn’t move.
Unease settled into his bones at the thought of turning his back to you, knowing that he would be defenseless if you were to attack him. As if you sensed his unease, you offered him a small, reassuring smile.
“I promise I’m just going to clean and stitch it.” You told him, your hands sitting in your lap as you held his eyes.
He stared at you for a few moments more, contemplating, but there was something in the back of his mind telling him that he could trust you. So, with slight hesitancy, he shifted on the couch with a pained groan until his back was to you.
You covered your mouth to muffle the shocked gasp that fell from your lips at the sight of his scarred skin. Most of them were healed and scarred over, but there were a few that were still fresh, meaning they had just happened recently. You reached out, your fingers brushing over the skin, but you were quick to pull away when the dark-haired male growled, his narrow eyes glaring at you from over his shoulder. Muttering an apology, you focused on the task at hand and started to clean the exit wound, repeating the same process from the other side.
You had heard from your friend that some hybrid owners would whip them, and at first, you couldn’t believe it because there had been laws in place before the war. Yet, looking at these wounds, you were sure that they had come from a whip. You then started to wonder if the person who had done this called the hunters to go after him. It pained you to know that humans could be so cruel, and you wanted nothing more than to wash away his pain, but for now, you could just help him with this one.
Goosebumps littered the male's skin when your warm breath met his skin as you blew on the wound once more. His tail twitched before laying itself across your lap, causing your eyes to widen, but you didn’t say a word, scared that it would scare him off again. Once the wound was clean, you grabbed your suture kit before sitting back to look at him.
“I’m going to stitch the exit wound first, but if you need me to stop at any time, just tell me.” You explained this to Wooyoung, and he turned his head to look at you, a dark gleam pooling in his brown iris.
You let out a sigh when he didn’t say a word before moving to sit at a better angle to stitch up the wound. As soon as you started, his hand that wasn’t holding his shirt up gripped the back of the couch, his knuckles turning white. Pain struck your heart seeing him in pain, but you knew you needed to get this done, so you focused unless he told you to stop, but he never did. After you finished off the last suture, you grabbed some bandages and covered the wound before moving away completely.
“Okay, one side done.” You told him, and he turned his body back around, watching as you knelt down on the ground in front of him once more. His eyes were on you the entire time that you started to wipe some of the fresh blood off. As you brushed over the wound again, his body jerked, causing you to lose your balance, and your hands flew out to steady yourself. However, your breath caught in your throat when you realized that it was his leg that you had used, your other hand on the couch next to his hip. Embarrassed, you fumbled over an apology as you moved away, and Wooyoung just shook his head, eyes averting your gaze as heat flushed over his face.
He would never admit it openly, but the feeling of your hands on him was nice, your skin was soft, and your scent was intoxicating, more so the closer you got. Swallowing thickly, he turned his head as you got to work stitching him up.
Once you were finished, you moved back, packing up your first aid kit before turning to look at the fox, his head still turned. “I’m all done. You’re free to leave, but you’re also more than welcome to stay here.”
You didn’t give him a chance to say anything before you scurried out of the room and towards the kitchen. Wooyoung just watched as your figure disappeared into the other room, his mind fighting with him.
He knew that he was going to leave, but why was he so hesitant about doing so? Shaking his head, he stood to his feet, a pained groan falling from his lips as he did so. He then walked around the couch and towards the door, yet when he reached for the door handle, he felt a tug at his being.
‘Don’t go.’
The voice in the back of his head became clearer than ever, the tugging growing by the second. He retracted his hand to look down at his palm. There was no way he was going to trust another human in his life, but why did he feel such a pull towards you?
Looking out the window, he saw that the sun had already set, and he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to be able to make it back home safely at this time. So he let out a huff, deciding that it would be best to just stay here for the night and leave first thing in the morning.
You stood in front of the stove, waiting for the kettle to finish warming up, your mind going back to the whip marks on the male’s back. Wondering who would be so cruel to do that to another person, but in this day and age, you knew that that answer would be hard to get because almost ninety percent of the human population saw hybrids as mere toys or prey for their sick games.
Wooyoung followed where you had gone, finding you standing before the stove. His ears could pick up the steady beat of your heart, and your scent once again invaded his senses. Scrunching up his nose to try and alleviate the overpowering smell, he walked towards you, the question that had been on the tip of his tongue finally falling from his lips.
“Why do you care so much?” His voice broke the silence causing you to nearly jump out of your skin, having not heard him walk in. You turned to look at him, thinking about his question for a moment.
“No one deserves to be treated like that.” You spoke softly as you looked at him, and you could clearly see the suspicion in his eyes, which you didn’t blame him; your kind wasn’t exactly the best to his, “after the war broke out, I vowed to help as many hybrids that I could which in turn got me into trouble, but I didn’t care as long as they were safe.” You explained to him before turning around to pull the screaming kettle off of the stove, pouring some of the boiling liquid into a mug with a tea bag.
Wooyoung just looked at you in confusion. He could tell by your steady heart that you weren’t lying, but he was still perplexed at the thought of you genuinely caring about hybrids. No human did, especially if it meant they would have to leave their normal lives.
“My parents ended up kicking me out after they could get me to change my mind.” You told him, answering the question that was biting at the back of his mind. You let out a sigh before opening a cabinet and pulling out another mug and tea bag, not sparing him a glance as you recalled your parents' methods to ‘persuade’ you. “My best friend is also a hybrid, but she only comes around when it's safe.” You tried to change the subject a little bit as you set the kettle back on the stove after turning it off.
The room then fell silent as you finished up the tea before you turned with both mugs, offering one to the taller male. Wooyoung looked at it skeptically but took it from your hand nonetheless, his fingers brushing against yours, and he could have sworn he felt a shock of some kind.
“I never caught your name.” You spoke as you took a small sip from your own mug, your eyes never leaving his. He mulled over whether or not to give you his name, but in the end, he didn’t see any harm in it.
“Wooyoung.” He told you curtly, and you smiled; it fit him, really.
“I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself before the room fell into a semi-comfortable silence.
You watched as Wooyoung took a sip of the tea, and you laughed softly at the disgust that twisted on his face as soon as the liquid touched his tongue. He looked down at the mug as if it had offended him, his ears twitching slightly, and you couldn’t help but find it cute.
“What is this?” He asked as he sat the mug down on the counter and looked over at you as you took another drink from your own mug.
“It’s chamomile tea," you told him with a small laugh before grabbing his mug and setting it next to the sink. It helps calm the nerves.”
“Well, it’s gross as hell," he quipped as his nose scrunched, causing you to smile endearingly. At the sight, Wooyoung felt his heart speed up under his ribs. Clearing his throat, he ran his fingers through his hair, but the pain that shot through his abdomen caused him to hiss, and you quickly looked back at him.
“Are you okay?” You asked, taking a step towards him, but that same warning gleam in his eyes from before stopped you.
“I’m fine. Is the couch free?” he asked, and you looked at him with scrunched eyebrows. Had he not expected you to let him use the bed? Seeing your expression, he let out a huff. He knew you were too good to be true. " Forget it. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He then turned and started to walk out.
Panicking a little, you sat your mug down, not caring that some spilled before you rushed forward to grab his arm, stopping him. He looked back at you, and he half expected you to tell him to sleep outside, but your words caught him completely off guard.
“I have a guest room; you don’t have to sleep on the couch or the floor.” You told him as you released his arm, taking a tentative step back as he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Interlocking your fingers, you looked up at him. “I can show you the room. I think I have some of my brother's old clothes in there that might fit you if you want to change them.” You told him hesitantly because you had heard about how male hybrids could be about other males' clothing; it didn’t matter if they were human or not.
He stared at you for a moment, trying to figure you out. Running his tongue over his teeth, you felt your heart leap at the sight of his elongated canines, your fingers tightening around each other. Once he agreed, you led him to the spare room, opened the door, and let him walk in.
“Make yourself at home, be wary of your stitches, and don’t get them wet until the twenty-four-hour mark passes.” You told him as you watched him walk into the room, and you noticed that he wasn’t limping anymore, which wasn’t too much of a surprise, seeing as hybrids have heightened healing. “Um, I’ll leave you to it. The clothes are in the wardrobe, and if you need anything, I’m just across the hall.” You pointed over your shoulder, and the dark-haired male nodded as he looked over at you. You offered a small smile before turning and leaving, closing the door behind you.
Wooyoung stood in the middle of the room for a few more moments before his gaze traveled over to the wardrobe, his lip curling in disgust. He would much rather sleep in his dirty clothes than wear anything that’s been near another male. So he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. He started to bend down to pull his boots off, but the pain stopped him.
Growling in annoyance, he pulled his leg up to unzip them, kicked them off, and lay down in the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was met with your scent once more. It seemed like no matter where he went, you followed, but this was your home after all, so he shouldn’t be too surprised. Rolling onto his uninjured side, he tried to sleep, which wasn’t too hard after the long and exhausting day he had.
The loud rumbling of thunder woke Wooyoung dead out of his sleep, his body jolting upwards. His face twisted in pain as his hand covered his wound, pain erupting from the area. Looking around the room he noticed a digital clock sitting on the dresser that sat on the other side of the room.
‘3:47am’
Throwing the blankets off his legs, he stood from the bed and made his way towards the door. Opening it, his ears twitched as he heard movement from somewhere else in the house. Peeking out, he noticed the lights on at the end of the hall, where the living room was. Listening closer, he tried to see if he could hear anything, but the padding of the rain outside made it hard.
Carefully, he walked out of the room and down the hall with light on his feet in case it was an intruder. However, when he turned the corner all he found was you sitting on the couch, a book sitting in your lap. The dim glow of the lap that sat on the side table next to you cast a faint glow upon your skin. He couldn’t tell if it was just his sleep-fogged brain or not, but you looked breathtaking to him, and he hated that he saw you in that kind of light.
Swallowing thick, he turned to leave, not wanting to bother you or be close to you and your intoxicating scent just in case it got to his head. Yet when another clash of thunder vibrated the house, he grimaced, his hands reaching up to pull at his ears.
Hearing the floorboards creak, you looked over and found Wooyoung standing there, messing with his ears. You knew that they had sensitive ears, so you were sure that the thunder was hurting them. Putting the bookmark back into your book, you closed it before setting it down on the coffee table.
Noticing movement from the corner of his eye, Wooyoung looked over to see you standing and walking towards him. He wanted to back away and tell you to not touch him, but he could force the words off of his tongue. You stopped just a few feet in front of him, looking him over. His hair and the scruff on his ears were all messy from his sleeping, and you took note that he was still wearing his clothes. Looking back up to meet his eyes you could see the borderline fear and pain swirling in his chocolate orbs.
“Why don’t you sit down? We can watch a movie until the storm passes.” You told him as you motioned to the couch. As much as he would like to tell you to screw off, he found himself nodding and following you to the couch, taking the empty space next to you but leaving a good amount of space between the both of you.
After you both got comfortable on the couch, you found a movie and pressed play before turning the volume up just enough to drown out the sound of the rolling thunder outside. You handed him the throw blanket after noticing that he was starting to shake slightly, but otherwise, you left him alone, not wanting to push any limits.
The room was quiet, except for the sound of the movie playing through the speakers. You sat with your legs curled underneath you as you played with the loose threads on the couch arm.
“Why are you awake?” His voice caused your heart to jump into your throat, startled by the sudden noise before you glanced over at him.
“Couldn’t sleep.” You told him before turning your gaze back to the TV, your racing heart starting to calm, but Wooyoung’s eyes never left your form.
“Because of the storm?”
You took a moment to respond, mulling over what you should tell him. "Yeah… " It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to burden him with your problems.
Wooyoung could tell that you hadn’t told the full truth, but he wasn’t going to push for answers, so he just left it at that and went back to watching the movie.
About an hour and a half later, the storm finally calmed, and Wooyoung had fallen back asleep on the couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up, so you just left him after making sure that he was completely covered.
Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, you looked at the time and saw that it was a little bit after six. So you stood and made your way back to your room to change, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You were going to run to the store to grab a few groceries as well as a change of clothes for Wooyoung, something that you knew he would wear and that wasn’t already worn by someone else.
–
Wooyoung woke up with a groan, his arm covering his face from the harsh rays of sunlight. After a few moments, he lifted himself up and looked around the living room. Had he fallen asleep in here last night? His eyes then fell on a pile of folded clothes that sat on the table, a piece of paper sitting on top of them.
Reaching over, he grabbed the note, thinking that you had just laid out more of your brother's clothes for him to change into. However, as he read the note, his eyebrow raised.
‘I went to the store this morning and got you something to change into; I wasn’t too sure about your size, so I hope they fit. There’s food in the fridge, and if you need anything, I’ll be in the backyard.’ - y/n
He found it hard to believe that you actually bought him something, but as he grabbed the T-shirt, he found that the tags were still attached, and the only scent he could smell was the faint aroma of the store. His eyes then shifted to the backdoor that he could see through the doorway of the dining room back to the shirt in his hands. He was surprised but grateful nonetheless, so he gathered the clothes before heading back to the guest room to change.
When he was done changing, he went to hunt for you, which wasn’t too hard, seeing as he could hear you humming to yourself through the open window in the kitchen. So he opened the back door and found you sitting on a swinging bench with yet another book in your hands.
At the sound of the door opening, you moved your gaze away from the page you had been reading. A small smile tugged on your lips at the sight of him wearing the clothes you had bought. Closing the book, you sat it to the side and gave him your full attention.
“Do they fit alright?” you asked, and he nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment as he noticed the dark bags that had formed under your eyes. You then remembered his bandages and stood to your feet, “Have you changed your bandages yet?”
“No, I was gonna ask you where they were.” He told you that the hairs on the back of his neck stood tall when a gust of wind blew past him, and he shivered. “Why are you out here when it’s this cold?” He wasn’t even sure where the question had come from, but he wanted to know the more the chill settled into his bones, and he started to shiver.
“It’s not that bad as long as the wind isn’t blowing," you explained before grabbing your book. "Now, let's go change your bandages.” You walked back to the door and opened it before walking in, Wooyoung close behind you, ready to get out of the cold.
As you were bandaging his stitches, you started to wonder why he hadn’t left when he looked like he was ready to run out that door any moment yesterday. Unknowingly, Wooyoung was wondering the same thing to himself. He was sure that he would just leave after waking up. Yet he once again found himself being tugged back to you, wanting to stay in your presence. It was annoying as hell.
When you were done, you threw out the old bandages and left everything he needed to change them sitting on the dresser.
“I’ll leave these here for you if you leave, so you have something,” you told him as you made your way to the door. But he quickly caught your wrist in his hand, the skin tingling at the contact. Shocked, you looked back at him with wide eyes, but he kept his gaze averted, his ears folded back.
“Could I stay here?” He hated to ask because the last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a human, but his ‘home’ was merely just an abandoned factory that was on the outskirts of the city that he had made himself comfortable in after escaping the last human he was with.
As if his reaching out to grab you wasn’t shocking enough, his asking to stay here after making it seem like he wanted nothing to do with you shocked you even more. You blinked at him a few times, trying to find the words, but Wooyoung took that as a sign that you didn’t want him there, so he started to let go. At the loss of contact, the shock instantly wore off, and you grabbed his hand, catching him off guard.
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that, but yes, you’re more than welcome to stay here.” Your words came out rushed, worried that he would try to stop you if you didn’t speak fast enough. Wooyoung looked at you in shock for a moment before his eyes fell to where you were still holding onto his hand, noticing his gaze you quickly let go with an apology, sticking your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. “Uh… I’ll be out back again if you need anything!”
Wooyoung couldn’t help the small smile of amusement that spread on his lips as you tucked tail and rushed out of the room, and he definitely didn’t miss the faint blush on your cheeks. He let out a breath of air before turning and going back to the bed.
Something about you kept pulling him to you, and he wanted to figure out what it was. However, he was also worried that if he opened up too much, it would just be a repeat of last time. So, he decided to keep a good distance between the two of you so he wouldn’t run the chance of trusting another human.
It couldn’t be that hard, right?
The first week that he was there, it was easy to avoid being around you too much unless you were helping him change the bandages on his back. However, the longer he stayed with you, the more that he found himself drawn to you, and it became hard to avoid you.
Even now, as the both of you sat on the couch watching TV, the empty dinner plates were sitting on the coffee table. He sat close to you, wanting to soak in the warmth that you give off, yet he was hesitant about it, but even in the short amount of time you’ve known him you knew what he was wanting. So carefully, you reached over and grabbed his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers together. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes landed on where your hand sat in his, but you didn’t say a word nor look at him.
As much as he hated it he could feel the walls he had built up around him start to crumble the longer he stayed near you. He didn’t really hate it. He just wasn’t sure if he could trust you.
“We can take your stitches out tomorrow morning.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked over at you, offering him a small smile. That’s when he noticed that the dark bags under your eyes had gotten worse, and his eyebrows scrunched up, causing you to laugh softly. "What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?”
“Have you been sleeping?” His question caught your off guard and you looked at him with wide eyes.
Was it really that evident that you haven’t been sleeping well? You were sure that you had managed to cover the eyebags, just maybe not good enough. Letting out a short laugh, you reached up and rubbed the back of your neck as you turned your gaze away from him.
“Is it really that obvious? I’ve always had trouble sleeping, but it's been worse here lately.” You explained to him, releasing his hand, and he watched as you laid it on your lap. He started to worry that it had something to do with him, but you were quick to catch on, looking back over at him with a small smile. “It’s not because of you, it’s just…” A part of you wanted to spill everything to him; something about him just drawing you in like a string that was attached to your soul, but you didn’t want to overstep any lines that would make him uncomfortable.
Against his better judgment, Wooyoung reached over and took your hand back into his, interlocking your fingers together once more. Surprised, you looked down at your intertwined hands before looking up to meet his gaze. Then, despite all of the warning bells that were ringing in his head, he opened his mouth and spoke softly.
“You can tell me.” He reassured you, and you felt your heart leap at the sincerity in his eyes.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to trauma dump.” You tried to laugh it off, but he squeezed your hand, pulling your attention back to him. His gaze alone told you that he wasn’t going to let you go until you talked about it, so you just slunk back into the couch with a sigh. “My parents used to um… hit me to put it lightly back when everything was happening with the hybrids. They would wait until I was asleep in bed to come in and drag me out.” Your voice shook softly as you started to explain, averting your gaze to your and Wooyoung’s interlocked hands, watching his thumb brush the back of your hand. “Even after they finally kicked me out, I would wake up from night terrors. They got better after a while, but sometimes they get bad again, and I just can’t bring myself to sleep. I’m still petrified at the thought of them barging into my room again, so I just stay awake. Better safe than sorry.”
After you finished explaining, Wooyoung just looked at you. Even back then, you would rather take those beatings from your parents than turn against his kind. He started to see you in a new light, and he found himself even more drawn to you.
He squeezed your hand once again, catching your attention. As your eyes met his, you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. You quickly apologized as they started to fall, turning your head to wipe them away, but he caught your chin and turned you to look back at him. He brushed his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the tears before he spoke again.
“As long as I’m here, you don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you like that again.” His eyes scanned your face, and he could tell that you were on the verge of breaking down. He wiped a few more tears away before pulling his hand away and you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “You need to sleep; you look exhausted.”
You let out a small sigh, but you knew he was right. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong if you kept yourself awake any longer. So you made yourself comfortable on the couch, propping your arm up to rest your head on the couch, eyes watching the TV.
Wooyoung watched you for a few more moments before turning to look back at whatever movie was playing on the TV. Before too long, he looked over to find that you were fast asleep. Your lips parted slightly, and he couldn’t help but stare. Until he noticed your eyebrows scrunching together, and you started to mumble something.
Releasing your hand, he did the first thing that came to mind: He wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you into his. As soon as your head met his chest, the soft thumping of his heart was heard under your ear. He watched for a moment as your features relaxed and his body went rigid, his ears standing tall when your arms wrapped around his torso. After a few moments, he relaxed, his arm snug around you as he continued to watch TV.
–
When you woke up, you weren’t sure what time it was. Lifting your head, you wiped the sleep out of your eyes but became acutely aware of the body under yours. Moving slowly so as not to wake the male, you reached for your phone and turned the screen to see the time pop up on the screen.
‘2:19am’
Your eyes widened as you realized just how long you had been asleep and without any nightmares at that. Looking back at Wooyoung, you grimaced at the way his head was cranked backwards. Curling your lips inward, you reached out and shook him softly.
“Wooyoung… hey, wake up, Wooyou–” You gasped when he jolted awake, his hand wrapping around your wrist, his eyes alert, and his ears folded back. However, once he realized it was just you, his ear relaxed, and his grip loosed.
“Sorry,” He apologized before releasing your wrist to rub his eyes. “What time is it?”
“A little after two, you should go to bed; you looked uncomfortable.” You told him, guilt creeping up your spine when you realized that he was like that because you were laying on him.
He looked at you for a moment, then said, “If I’m going to bed, then you should, too.”
You wanted to protest, but the stern gleam in his eyes told you that you weren’t going to win this fight even if you tried. So you nodded before standing and turning the TV off, Wooyoung not too far from you.
When you got to your door, you paused for a second, unsure if you would even be able to sleep again. Noticing your hesitance, Wooyoung stopped turning the door handle to his room to look over at you.
“Are you okay?” You jumped at his voice before looking over your shoulder at him.
“I’ll be fine; I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to sleep again.” You told him honestly, but you waved him off quickly, not wanting to bug him further. "Don’t worry about it. Good night, Wooyoung.”
Before he could utter a word, you disappeared into your room, the door shutting softly behind you. He let out a huff, his tail waving behind him, matching his annoyed state. Walking into his room, he decided that it wasn’t really his place to push you, so he just left it be.
You crawled into your bed after changing into a pair of pajamas, but as soon as you lay down and closed your eyes, flashes of those nights came back, and you quickly opened your eyes. Turning onto your back, you stared at your ceiling for a few moments before trying to sleep once again. However, you kept tossing and turning, either too uncomfortable, or fear etched itself in your head as soon as you were about to fall asleep, waking you right back up. With a huff, you started to give up on the idea of sleeping when you heard a knock at your door, nearly scaring the life out of you.
You slowly climbed out of bed and walked over to the door, opening it just enough to look out. Your eyes widened when you found Wooyoung standing there.
“What are you–”
“I can hear you moving around in the other room; I can’t sleep.” He cut you off, and your face dropped. You hadn’t meant to keep him awake. You started to apologize, but he just shook his head, his ear twitching slightly. “You seemed to sleep better when I was with you on the couch, so…” He really didn’t want to spell it out for you, and thankfully, you caught on to what he was saying.
“You don’t have to, I don’t want to trou–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pushed past you into your room, kicking the door closed behind him and pulling you towards the bed.
“Just be quiet and lay down.” His snarky tone was something that you had grown used to over the past two weeks that he’s been here, so it didn’t bother you. No, what was getting to you was the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him. Hearing the sound of your heart rate pick up, he flicked your forehead, causing you to yelp, “We’re just sleeping. Get your head out of the gutter.”
“I– you–” You stumbled over your words in embarrassment, causing the fox to smirk. Your face was a bright shade of pink, and you thanked the heavens that it was dark so he couldn’t see it; at least, you hoped he didn’t. With a pout, you turned, walked over to the other side of the bed, and laid down, your back facing him.
Laughing softly, he took the empty space next to you, pulling the blankets over his body. The room then fell silent as you both laid there, you could already start to feel yourself drift off. Then before too long you had fallen asleep just as Wooyoung thought you would, he then laid his head back down and started to drift off. However, he was jolted from his slumber when you suddenly turned and moved closer to him, your hand brushed against his side as you moved. He stayed still for a moment until you practically curled yourself against his side before he let out a sigh and went to sleep.
–
The next morning you woke up before Wooyoung, a yawn escaping your lips as you went to sit up only to find Wooyoung’s arm draped over your body. Heat crept up your neck as you realized just how close the two of you were, his soft snores filling your ears.
Carefully untangling your body from his, you climbed out of the bed and grabbed a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. Shutting the door behind you, you walked over to the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror.
“Snap out of it, y/n; he’s just trying to help because you’re bothering him. Don’t let it go to your head.” You sighed, turning on the tap to splash cool water over your face.
“You’re not bothering me.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, a small yelp falling from your lips as you looked up, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror.
“When did you…?” You turned to look at him with wide eyes; you hadn’t even heard the door open.
Wooyoung didn’t say a word as he stalked closer to you and you tried to back away only to be met with the counter. He then trapped your body between his and the countertop, leaning down until his warm breath washed over your face.
Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips that were merely inches away from your own and you swallowed thickly. Wooyoung wasn’t sure what had washed over him or if it was just that his rut was coming up, but that pull he felt towards you was stronger than ever this morning.
His hand then found your waist, pulling you against him, causing a soft gasp to fall from your lips. His head then dipped down, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, “I can hear your heart hammering in your chest, sweetheart.”
“Wooyoung…” You breathed out, your hand pressing against his chest, and you could feel his own heartbeat against your palm.
The fox hummed as he moved away from your ear to look at you, his tail brushing against your bare thigh. His gaze was intense as he stared down at you, his grip on your hip tightening. You wanted to push him away, but you couldn’t, and neither could Wooyoung as he finally captured your lips with his. Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his plush lips against yours.
Any hesitance you felt moments before flew out the window as you melted against him, returning his eager kiss. Your arms snaked around his neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You didn’t give him much of a fight as you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. A soft moan fell from your lips when he gently bit down on your bottom lip, and Wooyoung could feel his pants grow tighter.
His kisses grew hungrier as his hands started to roam your body, fingers slipping underneath your shirt. Your brain started to go foggy as his lips trailed from yours down your jaw before finding purchase on the sensitive skin of your neck.
“W-Wooyoung.” You choked out as he started to leave hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping every now and then, causing your body to shiver. His eager hands found the back of your thigh, hoisting you onto the counter, eliciting a small yelp from you.
“You smell so good.” He groaned against your skin before his hands slipped under your shirt, squeezing at the skin. “Fuck I need you, baby, so bad.”
You moaned softly at his words, your hands gripping his shoulders, “We can’t… your stitches.” You told him, trying your best not to lose yourself in the feeling of his hands on your skin and his teeth grazing your neck.
“It’s fine, they’re coming out today. You said so yourself.” He told you, pulling away from your neck to look at you. The dark lust that pooled in his eyes made your arousal grow tenfold, and you could feel your panties growing wetter.
His fingertips then brushed the underside of your breast, and his eye flickered down to your shirt at the realization that you hadn’t been wearing a bra. With quick movements, he pulled the shirt over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. His eyes then fell on your bare breast, drinking in the sight with his eyes.
You felt so exposed under his intense gaze, goosebumps littering your skin before you started to cover yourself. However, he was quicker, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into another bruising kiss. A muffled mewl left your mouth when he cupped your breast in his hand, squeezing the soft fat.
“Don’t hide from me. You’re too pretty to hide.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled away from you; his head then dipped down. His lips latched onto the skin right above your breast, and you could feel your sanity slowly slipping away from you.
Your nails dug into his shoulder as he pressed his hips against yours, allowing you to feel how hard he was against your clothed cunt. A gasp fell from your swollen lips when he latched onto one of your nipples, teeth nipping at the sensitive bud.
“B-Bed.” You gasped out when his hand traveled down your stomach to your clothed heat.
Wooyoung let out a low growl, not wanting to waste time, but he detached himself from your breast nonetheless before picking you up. A small yelp fell from your lips as your arms wrapped your arms around his neck.
Walking back into the bedroom, he dropped you onto the bed, a small huff leaving your lips as you fell. Wooyoung didn’t leave you alone for too long, though, quickly discarding his shirt before crawling over you, his lips finding yours once more.
His hands then found the hem of your sleep shorts, fingers wrapping around the waistband, but he stopped and pulled away from your lips.
“Can I?” He asked despite the overpowering need to have you fully, not wanting to push any boundaries there may be. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him back down to you.
“Please,” You spoke softly, pressing a kiss on the corner of his lips, and that was all he needed before he hastily pulled off both your shorts and underwear. The way his eyes were devouring you had you pooling even more, your thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the pressure.
Wooyoung’s head dipped down to your neck once more, nipping at the skin softly as his hand traveled down your body. He pulled your thighs apart before his fingers met with your soaping core, and he groaned against you.
“Fuck I could smell how wet you were, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this wet babydoll.” He groaned against your skin as the pad of his middle finger found your throbbing clit. The sinful sound that left your lips nearly made him lose all sense of control, and he tried his best not to bite down on your collarbone.
“W-Woo–” You were cut off by a moan when he slipped a finger into your tight walls.
“Shit baby, you’re so tight,” He chuckled darkly as your eyes rolled slightly when he curled his fingers after adding a second finger. There was no way he was going to be able to hold off for much longer before he lost it, so he sped up his pace, his thumb pressing harsh circles on your clit.
“F-fuck!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed and against him. Your mind was starting to shortcircuit when he brushed over your sweet spot, and a broken whine fell from your lips.
Wooyoung leaned up latching his lips on yours once more, stealing the air right out of your lungs. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him close to you as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. He bit at your lower lip, enough to draw blood before he started to suck on it; the mixture of pain and pleasure sent you toppling over the edge.
“Wooyoung!” You cried out as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, prolonging your orgasm for a few moments before finally pulling them out of your twitching cunt.
You watched with hooded eyes as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence off of his digits. The sight was enough to make your need grow all over again, especially with the way his eyes bore into you. Once he was sure he had licked every last drop of your sweet nectar off of his fingers, he leaned back down over you, pressing his lips against yours again. You mewled at the taste of yourself on his tongue mixed with the tangy, metallic taste of your blood from your lip.
“Next time, I’ll have you cumming on my tongue.” He growled against your lips, and you were sure your brain was turning to putty at the thought of him between your thighs, lapping at your cunt like it was his favorite meal in the world. “But for right now… I need to be in you.”
He moved back far enough to pull the string of his sweats loose and pushed them down his legs. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He was big, way bigger than anyone you had ever been with before, but for granted, you’ve never slept with a hybrid. You then started to wonder whether or not it would fit, swallowing nervously.
Sensing your unease, Wooyoung crawled back over your body, drawing your attention back to his face. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before whispering, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you, baby, I promise.”
You gazed into his eyes for a moment before nodding softly, licking your lips, “o-okay, I trust you.”
Wooyoung smiled softly before pulling you into another kiss as he grabbed himself at the base, teasing your folds with his tip. You let out soft gasps every time he bumped against your clit that slowly turned into needy whines the more he continued to tease you. Tears from the overwhelming need started to brim in your eyes, and the dark-haired male could have sworn he’d bust right then and there.
“P-please, Woo… I need you, please.” You whined as your fingers tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently.
“Alright, my needy baby.” He cooed before lining his tip with your entrance and slowly pushed into you.
The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as he continued to fill you. “Ah, focus on me, love,” Wooyoung whispered softly, coaxing your eyes open, and you looked at him as tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes. “Good girl.”
You moan at the praise, his length still pushing you until he finally buried himself to the hilt. Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape from the feeling of being stuffed full. Wooyoung groaned as his face fell to the crook of your neck; you were squeezing him so tightly that if he were to move right now, he’d cum.
“W-Woo…” You gasped as he unintentionally rolled his hips against yours. He quickly apologized before stilling his hips, his hand finding yours to interlock his fingers with yours.
Your shallow breaths fanned against his ear as he pressed kisses along your chest, and he groaned at the feeling. Even through your foggy haze, you could notice the effect it had on him. Your free hand moved to the top of his head, your fingers brushing against his ear, and his whole body jolted.
“Fuck baby, don’t do that.” He groaned, moving his head up to look at you and you just looked at him with doe eyes, a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips. You reached up to touch his ear once more but he caught your wrist, a small growl reverberating from his chest. The sound went right to your pussy causing you to clench around him. “I’m trying so hard to not lose control babydoll, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”
A choked moan tore from your lips when he rolled his hips into yours, pleasure washing over you in waves as he hit all the right spots in one single stroke. Wooyoung released your wrist and hand to grab your hips when you gave him the green light to move.
Stars danced across your vision as he pulled out before snapping his hips right back into yours. Your fingers dug into the sheets from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Fuck look at you.” He groaned as he continued his rough pace; it was almost animalistic if you will. His eyes then fell down to where his cock disappeared into your soaping cunt, and he felt himself grow harder at the sight of the small bulge that formed in your lower tummy every time he pushed into you.
“Shit, Woo– fuck!” You cried out as he pushed down on your stomach, making you feel him even more as he fucked into you. Tears spilled from your eyes now as your whole body felt as if it were on fire, your legs trembling around Wooyoung’s waist.
“Are you gonna cum baby?” He cooed down at you as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, stealing the air from your lungs once more as his tip kissed your cervix at this angle. A loud pornographic moan tore from your lips when one of his hands slid between your bodies, pressing against your clit. “Cum for me, babydoll, please.” He pleaded like he was the one more desperate for your orgasm, but with a few more strokes, you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach snap, and your release gushed out all over his length.
A mixture of his name and broken moans fell from your lips as he continued his fast pace, never slowing down and throwing your body into overstimulation. Your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling, pushing more tears out, but Wooyoung was quick to kiss them away.
“Just a little bit more; you can do that for me, can’t you, sweetheart?” He whispered into your ear before leaving a flurry of kisses along your skin. His tail brushed along your leg, the feeling of the soft fur sending a shiver down your spine. “‘M gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna get you pregnant with my kits; you would like that, wouldn’t you, my love?”
You mewled at his words, your mind too far gone to truly understand what he was saying to you. Your fingers then found their way back into his hair, your fingertip brushing against his ear, and his whole body shuddered.
“Please Woo– I can’t–” You whined as your hips rolled to meet with his thrusts. Every nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire.
“Shit.” He groaned as he felt his high nearing, and his hips snapped wildly into yours, making your vision turn white, nails digging into his neck. A mixture of a groan and a whimper fell from his lips as he completely buried himself to the hit once more as he came.
“W-Woo!” You cried out when you felt something stretching you even more, and it sent your third orgasm washing over you. Wooyoung buried his face in your neck as you milked his cock for all it was worth.
Once your orgasm subsided, you opened your eyes, blinking away some of the tears before looking over at Wooyoung as he pulled his head out of your neck.
“What is that?” Your voice shook slightly and the fox male just smirked down at you before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.
“It’s a knot, sweetheart. It’ll go down in a bit, but for now, try not to move too much.” He explained to you, and you let out a huff, and your head fell back, but you were sitting there for too long until Wooyoung flipped the both of you and pulled you on top of his chest. “You’ll probably be more comfortable like this.”
You let out a soft laugh before tilting your head to look up at him. "You better hope your stitches didn’t bust.” You huffed before laying your head back down on his chest as he chuckled. He ran his fingers through your hair before gently squeezing the back of your neck. Before too long, both of you had fallen asleep once more.
–
A few hours later, you were in the kitchen with Wooyoung, sitting on the barstool as you took out his stitches. He hadn’t even bothered to put a shirt on after the both of you woke up, seeing that it would be pointless.
“See, I told you they’d be fine.” He teased you as you removed the last stitch from his abdomen, and you glared up at him before raising back up.
“Yeah, and it's probably thanks to your enhanced healing.” You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged on the corner of your lips when he wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him. “Woo, I need to get the stitches in your back.” You went to pull away, not missing the pout that formed on his lips or how his ears drooped.
The room then fell silent. The only sound was your soft humming as you worked on removing the stitch from his back. Once they were out, you couldn’t help but brush over the scars, and this time, Wooyoung didn’t growl or even move away; he just let you do as you please.
“They’re from the last human I was with.” His voice startled you, and you looked up, but he didn’t turn his head to look at you. You laid your palm flat against his back as you listened to what he was telling you. “She was the first human that I thought I could actually trust. She treated me with so much kindness and lured me in with false promises. Then, when she had me in her grasp, that nice facade faded, and her true colors showed through.” You could hear the slight tremble in his voice as he explained, your heart aching at the thought of the betrayal he must have felt. “She was… evil, and that’s putting it lightly. Even an inch out of line, and she’d have that damn whip in her hand.” He growled lowly as he recalled all of the painful nights he had to endure in the cold cage that she would keep him in.
You stepped closer to him, your arm wrapping around his chest, and he leaned back into you. He let out a content sigh when you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the scruff on his ears.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, but I promise that you will never have to go through that again, "you promised as you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on his temple. He hummed softly, soaking in your warmth because, for once, he actually believed your words.
You both stood there in silence, enjoying each other’s company. That was until the sounds of loud engines interrupted you. Both of you froze, unsure what that sound was. Quickly pulling yourself away from him, you walked with a light step towards the front of the house, peeking out of the front window. What you saw made your heart jump in your throat.
“Shit!” You cursed lowly as you turned back to the dark-haired male who had just walked into the living room.
“What is–”
“Wooyoung, listen to me; in the closet in the guest room, there’s a crawl space. I need you to go and hide in there, NOW!” You rushed, pushing him in the direction of the room, but he fought against you. “Dammit, Woo, go! It’s the hunters, so please go and hide, and for the love of god, do NOT come out no matter what you hear.” You pushed him towards the room once more, and Wooyoung’s heart dropped at the thought of the hunters being here again.
Reluctantly, he did as he was told, rushing into the guest room and shutting the door behind him. Opening the closet door and looking up, he found the crawl space you were talking about. Looking around, he found a bucket and quickly turned it over so he could use it as a step stool.
With a few pushes, the piece of the ceiling gave way, and he quickly pulled himself up, kicking the bucket away in the process. Once he was inside, he replaced the panel before sitting there, trying to calm his racing heart.
His ears twitched as he picked up on the sound of voices from the other room, and he prayed to god that you would be okay and the hunters would just leave when they couldn’t find what they were looking for.
The hunters had practically busted their way into the cabin and you prayed the Wooyoung made it to the crawl space in time. You jumped when the door collided with the wall roughly, and the group of three men, all wearing the same insignia, walked in.
“You can’t just barge in here.” You stood your ground, glaring at them, but they just looked at you, and the front guy smirked.
“Well, if it isn't the pretty lady from the woods.” He stepped towards you, but you quickly took a step back, keeping a good space between you. “We got word that the fox hybrid was seen in this area.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about; there hasn’t been anyone but me out here.” You stated, heart hammering against your ribs as he signaled for his men to start searching, “hey you can’t just–”
In the next second, your body hit the ground, pain burning on your cheek, and tears stung in your eyes. Looking up, you glared at the man, holding your face.
“See, we would believe that if our sources hadn’t said they saw him right here with you.” He then crouched down in front of you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back, causing a pained cry to leave your lips. “So if you wanna live to see the light of another day, you better start telling the truth.”
Your hands balled into fists as you spit at him, “There is no one but me here, douchebag.”
Another cry of pain fell from your lips when he backhanded you, the metal of his ring busting your lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall as you met the man’s gaze once more. Your eyes narrowed into slits as he leaned towards you.
“You’re quite feisty; I wouldn’t mind keeping you.” He reached toward you, but you quickly knocked his hand away in disgust.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” You growled, heart beating frantically the longer the other two men were out of sight. You prayed that they were dumb enough to just look in the obvious places and not give the crawl space a second thought.
Wooyoung could hear the commotion in the living room, but as soon as he heard the pained cry fall from your lips, he wanted to give up his spot so he could make sure you were okay. However, he knew that he would only end up hurting you more, so he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the shuffling from underneath him.
Eventually, it stopped, and the footsteps retreated back towards the living room.
“We couldn’t find anything, boss.” Both men walked back into the room, and you had to fight the urge to let out a relieved sigh.
“Fucking hell.” The man in front of you growled before standing to his feet and looking down at you with a faux smile, “Sorry about the commotion, ma’am.”
You couldn’t help but scoff as they walked out of the house, slamming the door shut in the process. You didn’t dare move until you heard the sound of their engines fade off into the distance.
“Y/n!” Wooyoung called out as he got out of the crawl space, saw the mess the hunters had left, and quickly made a beeline to the living room.
You were just getting back onto your feet when he rounded the corner, and he felt his shoulders relax when he saw that you were okay. That was until you turned to face him, and he saw the blood dripping down your chin from the cut on your lip. And his vision turned red.
“Wooyoung, wait!” you called out to him as he made a beeline for the door, quickly grabbing his arm. “Wooyoung, stop; you can’t go after them!" you exclaimed as you tugged him back until he turned to look at you.
“Look at what they did to you; they need to pay.” He growled as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently swiping over the cut, causing you to hiss.
“I’m fine, but you can’t go after them. You alone are no match for all of them.” You explained, and he let out a defeated sigh, knowing that you were right.
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling away and grabbing your hand. "Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He then dragged you to the kitchen, sitting you on the same stool that he had been in just a while ago, the first aid kit in his hands.
You watched him endearingly as he cleaned up the blood from your busted lip before putting a plaster over the cut. After he was done, he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, pulled you into his chest, and you instantly wrapped your arms around his torso.
“They shouldn’t bother us again, at least not for a long time, if they don’t want to get in trouble for harassing a human.” You told him as you rested your chin on his chest, staring up at him. He looked down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.
“That's good because I can’t promise I’ll just sit idly by if they show up again.” He growled, and you knew he wasn’t joking, so you hoped they wouldn’t show their faces again.
You sat in his hold for a few more moments before pulling away and offering him a small smile "Why don’t you go get cleaned up, and I’ll make lunch?”
Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile, but he also wasn’t quick to leave your side just yet, so he refused, staying with you in the kitchen while you cooked. His playful remarks and teasing nature almost made everything feel normal once again.
But nothing fully dissipated until you were curled up on the couch with Wooyoung, watching some random movie while the both of you ate, enjoying each other’s company.
In the weeks after, there were no signs of those hunters, and you couldn’t be happier. You and Wooyoung were more than content with each other's company, even if his cockiness and teasing drove you to your wit's end.
The both of you were happy, and that was more than enough for you.
@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
synopsis — lee jeno forces his way into your life, first by pushing into one of your college projects and then refusing to leave. as mark’s best friend, you’ve always hated jeno—arrogant, reckless, and everything mark isn’t. but what starts as reluctant tolerance spirals into a secret affair fueled by lust, obsession, and the thrill of keeping it hidden. as lies and jealousy pile up, your connection becomes a dangerous game that pushes you to confront how far you’re willing to go—and how much you’re willing to lose—for the one person you swore you’d never fall for.
chapter warnings — college au, small town vibes, explicit language, explicit sexual content(18+), explicit themes, one tree hill inspired, early 2000s vibe, dominant!reader/submissive!jeno (yeah hehe), power struggles and control shifts, forced eye contact, choking, spanking, face slapping, name-calling and degradation, oral sex (male receiving), explicit descriptions of penetration, vaginal sex with deep and rough thrusts, reader rides yeehaw, overstimulation, mutual orgasms, squirting, possessive behavior, cum play, explicit body worship and focus on physical sensations, graphic descriptions, strong language, emotional manipulation and mind games, depictions of toxic relationships and power struggles, angst and emotional tension, forbidden relationships and moral ambiguity, mentions of alcohol consumption, intense arguments and interpersonal conflict, jeno and reader can both be seen as very toxic and always wanting to one up another, very sexually tense scenes, reader can appear very cold, detached but she’s super cool and observant (trust me), haunting descriptions, heated college party scenes as expected, just read it, trust me you’ll love it <3 there’s not much i can reveal, mentions of nct '00 line and other '99 and '00 liners and jihyo!
ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN
this fic is the second and final instalment of the love + games universe, read mark’s here (you don’t need to read mark’s to read this but it’s recommended)
i made a playlist that you can listen to whilst reading here !! you need to listen to algorithm by heejin (rock ver) when the bar scene starts. okay? <3 enjoy !!
authors note — the word count… i’m sorry 😭 your girl got carried away. but no, i’ve been obsessed with writing this, and it’s been my secret little obsession for so long. i totally tricked you guys by saying it’d come out in spring, but hehe surprise!! i’ve been working on it nonstop for the past two months. every part of this fic is going to be long, and that’s just the way it’s gonna be. this story is a lot—intense, mind-fucking, emotional, and filled with twists you won’t see coming. you’re in for a ride, and yes, it’s going to be detailed and deeply layered. the world-building? the emotions? the tension? yeah, i went all in. it even got so long i had to cut a whole scene from this part 🥲 so please, buckle up and prepare yourselves. it’s going to be a journey. positive feedback, comments, asks, likes + reblog are always welcome :)
Jaemin doesn’t struggle because he’s stupid—he struggles because he’s impatient. The first thing you noticed about him was how his notes sat in disarray, pages flipped with unnecessary force as if they were to blame for his confusion. His brain outruns his pen every time, leaving words half-formed, thoughts leaping ahead without ever landing. It’s not a lack of intelligence; it’s an inability to tether himself, to pause long enough for clarity. You’ve been tutoring him for weeks now, and it’s always the same: his frustration simmering just beneath the surface, a quiet storm waiting to break, while you remain calm and steady, pulling him back to the fundamentals with unshakable composure.
The early morning light streams through wide windows, painting soft, golden patterns across polished wooden tables. The room hums with quiet focus—the scratch of pens on paper, muted whispers of explanations exchanged. You sit across from him, composed and poised, a notebook spread open before you. The pages are lined with impossibly neat handwriting, each equation so precise it feels premeditated, like it existed in your mind perfectly formed before it ever met the paper. Your voice cuts through the stillness—calm, steady, deliberate—as you guide Jaemin through the problem once more, unraveling it into smaller, manageable pieces, your methodical approach leaving no room for confusion.
“Don’t rush,” you say, your tone balanced—calm but unyielding. “You’re skipping this part because you think you already know the answer. That’s exactly why you’re missing it.” Your pen glides smoothly over the paper, circling the overlooked section of the equation with precision. Jaemin leans closer, his brows knit tightly, frustration radiating from him in waves. You don’t flinch; you’ve seen this reaction countless times before.
As you speak, your mind operates on parallel tracks, a seamless machine of analysis and order. You’re gauging his comprehension, dissecting his furrowed expressions, and calculating the next step in your explanation. But even now, your thoughts stray beyond the table—to meetings waiting to be had, deadlines looming, and projects requiring your attention. You’re already arranging them all into the meticulous schedule that keeps your world running. Structure is your sanctuary, the one constant that assures you everything is exactly where it should be.
“This part,” you say, circling the error lightly with your pen, “you forgot to account for the variable here. Try shifting it before you simplify.”
Jaemin’s brow furrows, but he nods and adjusts his work. You wait patiently as he works through it again, the pause in his movements finally breaking with a quiet sigh of satisfaction when he reaches the solution. He glances at you with a small smile, proud but almost reluctant to show it.
That look—the fleeting satisfaction in his expression, the way his tension unravels—sends a quiet jolt through you. It’s not just about teaching him the material; it’s about control, precision, the satisfaction of knowing you’ve guided someone to the right answer, that your effort has been acknowledged. His success reflects on you, a silent confirmation that your meticulousness has value, that you’re needed. It’s not kindness that fuels you—it’s the clarity of seeing your work pay off, of proving, even in this small way, that you know what you’re doing.
You clear your throat, breaking the silence as Jaemin pauses mid-sentence, his pen hovering over the paper. Something had been on your mind since the start of the session, and you figured now was the time to bring it up. “So there’s this project I’m working on,” you begin, keeping your tone casual but deliberate. “An extracurricular for credits. It’s focused on performance under high-pressure environments—analyzing behavioral patterns, stress responses, that kind of thing.”
Jaemin glances up at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. He leans back slightly, twirling his pen between his fingers. “Sounds cool, but what does that have to do with me?”
You tilt your head, your gaze dropping briefly to the basketball jersey he’s wearing. It’s crisp, his number bold against the fabric, and it clicks—you’d almost forgotten there’s a match later today. Yet here he is, squeezing in a tutoring session, driven and diligent even with the game looming over him. “Basketball,” you say, meeting his eyes again. “That’s what this has to do with you. I chose it because it’s high-pressure, fast-paced, and everyone involved—players, coaches, even the crowd—responds to stress in different ways. It’s the perfect setting to measure those responses in real-time.”
You pause, watching his reaction. “I’d be observing things like body language, facial expressions, and decision-making under pressure. Maybe even gathering data about physical signs of stress—like heart rate, if I can get it—but nothing invasive. Just detailed observation, maybe a few interviews. It’s not difficult or complicated, educationally speaking. Actually, it’s a lot simpler than it sounds.”
Jaemin raises an eyebrow, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. “That sounds super interesting, and I know how you’re always doing all these extra projects—like you need the extra credits.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly but continues, “I digress. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m failing. Bad. That’s why you’re tutoring me, remember?”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I could use someone on the actual team,” you admit, the hint of a smile playing on your lips. “I could interview and make observations about you, starting with the match later today.”
“What about Mark?” Jaemin’s question lingers, and your lips soften into a quiet smile at the mention of him. Mark. Your best friend. His name alone carries a comfort few things in your life do.
Mark has always been a steady presence—not loud or demanding, but consistent in ways that matter most. He’s the kind of person who notices when your energy dips, quietly handing you water or slipping a snack onto your desk without saying a word. You think of all the moments Mark has been there for you: staying up with you through late nights, even when his own schedule was clear, walking beside you on empty streets just to make sure you felt safe.
His care never feels forced; it’s a quiet, steady presence that’s simply part of who he is. Mark doesn’t ask for recognition or gratitude—it’s in the way he listens when you vent, remembers the smallest details about your day, and always shows up when you need him. There’s a warmth to him that you’ve never questioned, a constant reassurance that, no matter what, Mark will always have your back.
You shake your head slightly, the smile lingering on your lips. “Of course Mark isn’t insufferable like the rest, he’s my best friend. But he hasn’t been playing in the professional environment of basketball for long at all, so it wouldn’t make sense to work with him for my project.”
He recently joined the Seoul Ravens, approaching the basketball court with the quiet determination you’ve always admired. Mark doesn’t boast about his abilities, but you’ve seen the hours he’s put in, the focus and care he pours into everything he does. Today is his first official match, and you feel proud because he’s doing something that reflects all his hard work and dedication.
Jaemin chuckles, the sound low and easy, pulling you back to the moment. “Makes sense. Also, you know…” His gaze flicks toward you, a teasing glint in his eyes. “The other boys on the team aren’t bad once you get to know them.” You raise an eyebrow but don’t respond, letting your silence speak for itself. He leans back slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You really want my help for this project?”
“Yes.” Your words are deliberate, purposeful, as you glance at the clock, ensuring your timing is precise. Then your gaze meets his again, steady and unwavering. “It’s a trade-off, really. You help me streamline my work; I give you an edge where you need it. Teamwork, Jaemin. It’s efficient.”
Jaemin doesn’t respond immediately, his lips twitching into a half-smile as his eyes shift toward the door. There’s something unspoken in the way he tilts his head, a flicker of recognition or intrigue flashing across his face. “Looks like your next project just walked in,” he murmurs, his tone light and teasing, but the weight of his words lingers. He doesn’t answer your pointed question about the project; instead, his focus drifts entirely, and you know something—or rather, someone—has disrupted the calm of the room.
You don’t respond, keeping your pen poised over Jaemin’s notebook, but your focus falters. The air shifts, heavier now, more charged. You feel it before you hear him, a presence that has a way of bending the room around it. When the door creaks shut behind him, the quiet hum of pens scratching on paper feels too faint, too distant.
Lee Jeno strides in, his duffel bag slung casually over one shoulder, but there’s nothing casual about the way he moves. His duffel bag hangs lazily over one shoulder, the strap digging into his hoodie where it lies half-zipped, just enough to reveal the deep maroon of his basketball jersey beneath. The fabric clings to his frame, the cut emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders and the lean strength of his build. His hair is damp, stray strands sticking to his forehead as though he’s come straight from practice. There’s a casualness to the way he carries himself, but it’s deceptive. He’s too controlled, too aware of the eyes that follow him, his presence impossible to ignore.
He doesn’t even glance at Jaemin—not directly, at least. His gaze sweeps the room once, brisk and indifferent, before locking onto you with sharp precision. His attention is singular, cutting through the space like a blade, leaving no doubt about who he’s here for. Jaemin, seated only inches away and his best friend since childhood, might as well not exist.
“Got a minute?” Jeno’s voice slices through the quiet, smooth but carrying an edge that ripples through the air. It isn’t a question—it’s a demand dressed in courtesy, the kind you recognize instantly. His tone doesn’t ask for permission; it takes.
Your pen pauses mid-stroke, but you don’t immediately look up. Instead, you force your attention to linger on Jaemin’s notebook, the deliberate delay giving you a fleeting sense of control. When your gaze finally lifts, it’s sharp and unwavering. “Not really,” you reply, your tone calm but cutting, steady enough to deflect the weight pressing down on the room. “I’m in the middle of something.”
Your eyes meet his, and the tension snaps taut, hanging heavy in the air between you. Jeno doesn’t blink, doesn’t waver. His confidence is a steady hum, but there’s something deeper, something restless in the set of his jaw and the darkness of his gaze. It’s a quiet storm, restrained but threatening, and it crawls over your skin like a warning.
The stillness stretches, charged and unbearable. His focus is razor-sharp, the kind that demands without words, and it lingers on you like a touch. You hate the way it unsettles you, hate the way it feels like a challenge you don’t want to rise to. But you don’t break—you hold his gaze, even as something hot and volatile simmers just beneath the surface, too close to dangerous for a quiet morning like this.
Unfazed, Jeno drops into the seat across from you, leaning forward with an ease that feels calculated. “I need your help,” he says, his voice low but insistent, laced with just enough charm to almost mask the edge in his tone. “Tutor me. You’re the best in the class, and I could use the boost.”
You arch a brow, finally meeting his gaze fully. “You have the second best grades after me,” you counter flatly, your tone sharp and unyielding. “You don’t need tutoring.”
For a moment, his smile falters, but he recovers almost instantly, slipping into something smoother, more convincing. “Basketball’s eating up all my time,” he says, the lie rolling off his tongue effortlessly. “I’m stretched too thin.”
He keeps his expression neutral, but beneath the surface, his thoughts churn with barely restrained tension. He didn’t come here for tutoring. This isn’t about college, and it never was. It’s about Mark—stepping onto his court, into his world, with a confidence that makes Jeno’s teeth grind. Mark isn’t just a new player; he’s something else entirely. A reminder of things Jeno doesn’t want to confront. A half-brother in name only, an unwelcome shadow creeping into spaces that were never meant to be shared.
The thought makes Jeno’s jaw tighten. Mark doesn’t know what it means to earn a place, to claw for respect under the weight of someone else’s expectations. He hasn’t lived the life Jeno has, yet somehow he’s here, taking up space that Jeno fought for. Worse, Mark isn’t just a part of the team—he’s in Jeno’s way, shifting the balance Jeno worked so hard to control.
Mark’s presence feels like a shadow creeping into every corner of Jeno’s life, and if he can’t push him back directly, he’ll find another way to assert control. You’re part of that plan—a tool, a move on the board, a way to get under Mark’s skin and remind him where the balance of power lies. It’s not about fairness; it’s about regaining control. Winning. And Jeno has no intention of losing.
Jeno sits down without asking, his duffel bag dropping to the floor with a muted thud. His movements are precise, intentional, the kind that demand attention without asking for it. He leans forward, his broad shoulders angling toward you as if closing the already minimal distance. The heat from his body is subtle but palpable, a reminder of his proximity, and the sharp set of his jaw tightens as his eyes fix on yours. He radiates confidence, but there’s something beneath it—something simmering, restrained. Frustration, annoyance… and maybe something more.
“I need your help,” he says again, his voice measured and steady but unmistakably pointed. The repetition isn’t accidental—it’s deliberate, calculated. He’s testing you, trying to wear you down in that way he’s so used to doing with everyone else. His tone carries an edge, a challenge just daring you to push back.
“No.”
The simplicity of your response hits him harder than expected. His brow furrows slightly, and there’s a brief flash of disbelief in his expression before he composes himself. “No?”
“You heard me.” Your tone doesn’t waver, each word delivered with cool precision. You level with his gaze, your eyes sharp and unwavering. “You don’t need help, and I’m not going to give you help.”
For a moment, his composure slips. His mouth twitches, as if he wants to say something but can’t quite form the words. There’s a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken frustration. Then his jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leans in closer, the air between you growing thicker.
It’s not just the rejection that unsettles him—it’s the way you deliver it, so unbothered, so certain. He’s used to being in control, used to commanding attention, and your calm defiance throws him off balance. And that, more than your words, is what he can’t seem to shake.
His excuse is quick, almost too quick, like he’d been waiting to use it. “I’m juggling a lot,” he says, his tone clipped, brushing past specifics as though the weight of his responsibilities should be self-evident. “Figured you could help me stay ahead.”
His excuse is flimsy, and he knows it. But the way your brow arches, how your lips part to challenge him, it stokes something deep in his chest. You’re too composed, too steady, and it only sharpens his frustration. You can see the cracks in his logic, the way he’s deliberately vague, sidestepping any real explanation. It stirs something in you—part annoyance, part intrigue.
“You know,” you counter, your voice sharp but steady, “you could’ve signed up like everyone else. Instead, you’re here, expecting me to drop everything just because you asked. That’s not how it works.”
Jeno doesn’t move back. Instead, he leans in further, his forearms brushing the table, his jaw tight as his eyes meet yours. “I thought you’d appreciate a little initiative,” he bites back, his voice lower now, a challenge lacing every word.
Your gazes lock, the space between you heavy with unspoken tension. His face is so close now, close enough that you can see the faint sheen of sweat still clinging to his hairline, close enough to feel the restrained energy thrumming beneath his skin. He’s waiting for you to flinch, to react, but you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your expression calm, your voice steady.
“If you’re serious, then go sign up,” you say, enunciating each word with deliberate control. “I don’t have any time for this or you.”
His lips twitch, his composure fracturing ever so slightly. “Right.”
The tension simmers hotter now, your stubbornness colliding with his in a battle neither of you wants to back down from. His fingers tighten on the strap of his bag, and for a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. The frustration etched in his face is almost palpable, but so is the undercurrent of curiosity he can’t seem to suppress.
Finally, he stands abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice clipped but laced with something darker, something unresolved. His gaze lingers on you for a beat too long, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for a crack in your armor. “See you around.”
You watch him leave, his shoulders rigid beneath the maroon of his basketball jersey, each step deliberate, charged. The room feels quieter without him, but the air isn’t lighter—it hums faintly, an unwelcome echo of his presence prickling at the edges of your thoughts.
Jaemin leans back in his chair, letting out a low, amused whistle. His lips curl into a smirk as his gaze flicks from you to the door Jeno just walked through. “Didn’t know tutoring included… hands-on benefits,” he teases, his tone light but pointed. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes, but it doesn’t quite mask the curiosity simmering beneath. “Or is that a special service just for him?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you snap, sharper than intended, though you don’t look up. Your hand grips the pen tightly as you force your attention back to Jaemin’s notes, the strokes of ink digging deeper into the paper than they should. The tension doesn’t settle; it lingers, weaving itself into the quiet of the room, refusing to be ignored. You hate how his presence lingers, how his gaze feels imprinted on your skin, sharp and unrelenting, even now.
For Jeno, walking away feels like defeat, and that’s not something he’s used to. His jaw clenches, his fists tightening against the strap of his duffel bag as he stalks down the hallway. You’ve unsettled him, thrown him off balance in a way that makes his frustration curdle into something sharper, something hotter. Control has always been his, always within reach—on the court, in his relationships, even in the way he fucks. It’s in the sharp precision of his movements, the calculated pressure of his touch, the dominance he wields like second nature. He’s the kind of man who knows exactly what he wants and how to take it, leaving no room for uncertainty. But at the end of the day, control is nothing more than an illusion.
But with you, he feels it falter. Even after one brief interaction, it slips through his fingers, leaving him raw, exposed in ways he doesn’t understand. You’re a puzzle he doesn’t know how to solve, a challenge he can’t resist. There’s something about the way you hold your ground, the way you don’t crumble under his gaze or yield to the power he’s so used to wielding. It unnerves him. Excites him.
And Jeno doesn’t back down from challenges. Not ever. But for the first time, he’s starting to realize that control might not be something he holds—it might be something you’ve taken from him without even trying.
The sun dips lower in the sky, its pale light fractured through the skeletal branches lining the path, pooling on the pavement in jagged patches. The air is sharp, biting, and carries the faint, bitter tang of autumn’s decay—leaves curling at the edges, their scent clinging to the quiet corners of campus. With each step you and Jaemin take, the dry crunch underfoot mingles with the faint echoes of distant conversations and bursts of laughter, sound rising and fading like restless waves.
The campus feels different tonight—its usual rhythm muted, as if the impending game has drawn all attention inward, leaving everything else hollow. Groups of students pass, their faces half-hidden in the dimming light, voices subdued but edged with anticipation. The arena looms ahead, stark against the bruised blue of the sky, its lights glowing faintly like a promise of the chaos waiting inside. The air tightens the closer you get, tension curling into your lungs, weighing heavier with each breath. Even Jaemin, usually irreverent and quick with a joke, is quieter, his focus gradually shifting toward the arena ahead.
“You know,” Jaemin says, his voice finally breaking the stillness, conversational but laced with something knowing, “Jeno’s not as bad as you think.” He glances at you sideways, the faintest smirk playing on his lips as he gauges your reaction.
Your gaze stays fixed ahead, mapping the narrowing path with precision, each step carrying you closer to the glowing entrance of the arena. “Didn’t ask,” you reply, your tone sharp and deliberate, slicing through the air with an edge that leaves no room for argument. You don’t look at him or waver.
Jaemin chuckles, the sound low, unbothered. “Just saying,” he continues, unfazed. “Off the court—away from the noise—he’s not what you think he is.” His words linger, insinuations woven through them, but you don’t take the bait, keeping your focus ahead, your steps deliberate and steady.
The arena looms in front of you, massive and overbearing, its sharp angles cutting into the darkening sky. The glow of its entrance beckons, casting shifting shadows on the pavement, but the pull it exerts isn’t welcoming. It’s invasive, pressing against your thoughts with a strange weight. The crackling energy in the air clings to you, sharp and electric, as if the building itself is watching, waiting for you to step inside.
By the time you step through the heavy double doors, the hum has become a roar. The scent of sweat, rubber, and buttery popcorn saturates the air, thick and inescapable. The harsh overhead lights reflect off the polished court, amplifying every sound—the screech of sneakers, the chatter of players, the low pulse of the crowd. Jaemin doesn’t stay long. The moment he spots the team near the court, he’s already gone, drawn like a moth to flame. “Catch you later,” he says over his shoulder, his grin quick but distant, already halfway absorbed into the knot of players and cheerleaders huddled near the baseline. His absence leaves a hollow sting, a sharp reminder of how quickly the crowd swallows its own, leaving you standing alone, untethered, at the edge of their world.
You’ve been in rooms like this before—not arenas, but spaces where chaos and hierarchy hum beneath the surface, where everyone seems to know their place except you. It reminds you of growing up in a house that wasn’t yours, at dinners where polite conversation veiled deeper fractures. Here, as then, you scan the scene for something to hold onto, a point of familiarity to ground you, but there’s nothing. The tension coils tighter in your chest as your eyes sweep the room and land on nothing but movement, noise, and faces that barely register your existence.
The low murmur of conversation, the undercurrent of motion—it all ebbs and flows with a rhythm that excludes you entirely. Your gaze lingers, not searching but absorbing the way the world moves seamlessly without you. No one pauses, no one looks your way, and the absence doesn’t sting. It never does. It’s an emptiness that’s carved itself into you, a weight so ingrained it feels like part of your foundation, like it was always meant to be there. It doesn’t just settle—it grips, sharp and unyielding, pressing deeper with every passing moment, steady and inescapable.
Your gaze moves quickly, catching on the Seoul Ravens huddled near the baseline—a whirlwind of animated shouts, easy laughter, and camaraderie that feels almost theatrical in its intensity. The cheerleaders hover nearby, their bright smiles and poised beauty seamlessly stitched into the scene, like they’re as much a part of the game as the players themselves. And then there’s Mark. He stands slightly apart, his posture straight but detached, his energy quieter than the others. He doesn’t demand attention, but it lingers on him anyway, magnetic in the way stillness can be when surrounded by motion.
Karina stands at the center of it all, her long black hair falling in sleek waves, perfectly framing her sharp features. The cheer uniform clings to her figure, the short skirt swaying lightly as she moves with a deliberate, polished ease. Her beauty is striking, the kind that lingers in your mind even after you look away. She doesn’t need to try to stand out; her presence commands attention without effort. People glance at her cautiously, as if hesitant to stare too long, yet unable to resist the pull. She carries herself with quiet confidence, every step and gesture exuding a natural control over the space around her.
Then there’s Areum, Jeno’s girlfriend. She stands close to him but with a quiet restraint, her posture straight and her movements careful, never drawing attention. Her gaze shifts across the room, focused yet fleeting, taking in everything without lingering too long on anything. She doesn’t speak or engage much, but nothing about her seems uncertain. There’s a composure to her, steady and deliberate, but it’s paired with a distance that feels intentional. She stays on the edge of the energy around her, observing but never fully part of it. It’s not hesitation, and it’s not discomfort—it’s precision. She reminds you of Mark, both of them existing apart from the noise, though her distance feels purposeful, where his feels unguarded.
Your eyes flit briefly to Jeno, standing at the heart of it all, the nucleus of the team’s energy. His laugh cuts through the noise, low and magnetic, the confidence in his movements so ingrained it borders on arrogance. He’s impossible to ignore, not just for the way the team orbits around him, but for the sharp contrast he makes to Mark. Jeno belongs here; he’s thrived in this environment for years, molded by it, commanding it. And yet, even from this distance, his gaze feels like it cuts through the crowd, deliberate and pointed, before shifting back into the fray.
Your fingers curl around the clipboard you’re holding, its weight anchoring you in the moment. Your project isn’t just a distraction—it’s the reason you’re here, the justification for standing on the edges of a world that isn’t yours. A study on the psychological effects of competition on team dynamics, assigned by one of your professors, the kind of work that demands you observe everything: the players, the crowd, the interactions, the cracks beneath the surface. The tension simmering in this arena, the chaotic bursts of noise and movement, all of it is fodder for your research. It sharpens your focus, dulls the edge of your nerves, even as the uneasy energy lingers at the back of your mind.
But most importantly, you’re also here for Mark.
That’s what keeps your feet moving, carrying you closer to the court, even as the weight of the arena bears down on you. Mark has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, the one constant in your life when everything else felt uncertain. You’re here because he would be here for you if the roles were reversed, and that thought alone keeps your focus steady. The lingering stares, the unspoken judgment in the room—they don’t matter. Let them assess, let them dismiss. You’ve never cared about fitting in here, and you’re not about to start. You’re here to support him, to remind him he’s not alone in this, the same way he’s done for you a hundred times over. Whatever they think, whatever this space feels like, none of it changes the fact that you’re here for Mark, and for yourself.
As you move closer to the court, Karina and Areum’s attention shifts toward you. Their glances are pointed, sharp, cutting through the noise like a silent commentary aimed directly at you. Karina leans in toward Areum, her voice low but deliberate, and whatever she says earns a quiet laugh. You don’t need to hear the words to know they’re about you. You feel it in the way their eyes linger, assessing, dismissing, as if you’re a puzzle that doesn’t belong in this picture. But you don’t stop, and you don’t give them the satisfaction of even a glance. Their opinions are as irrelevant to you as the hum of the crowd. Your focus stays fixed on Mark, standing near the edge of the team. His posture is straight, his expression unreadable, but there’s a familiarity in the way he carries himself—steady, grounded, it’s what makes him distinctively him. It’s enough to cut through everything else, to remind you why you’re here.
When you reach him, you tap his shoulder lightly. He turns quickly, his brows furrowed for a split second before his expression softens. The tension in his posture eases as soon as he sees you, and his lips twitch into the kind of small, relieved smile that makes you wonder if he’d been holding his breath all night.
“You made it,” he says, his voice low and steady, but there’s an edge of disbelief there, like he hadn’t expected you to show.
“Obviously,” you say, nudging his arm. “What kind of best friend skips this? First game with the Ravens? That’d be friendship treason.”
Mark lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. You just wanted a front-row seat to watch me trip and ruin my career before it even starts.”
“Mark, you’re not going to trip,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Don’t even start with that. I’ve seen you work harder for this than anyone else. Freezing nights at the river court, mornings when you could barely keep your eyes open—this is what it’s all been for. You’re ready. You’ve always been ready.”
Mark opens his mouth to respond, but his gaze drops to the clipboard in your hand, and he raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? Another project? What is this, your tenth one this term?”
You smirk, lifting the clipboard just enough to make your point. “What can I say? Some of us have standards to maintain.”
Mark raises an eyebrow, his tone dripping with teasing disbelief. “You know, normal college students go out, party, get drunk, and hook up. You should try it sometime. Might even loosen you up.”
Your smile doesn’t waver, but there’s a faint pause, barely perceptible, before you answer. “I’ll think about it,” you say casually, shifting the clipboard in your hands, the movement smooth, practiced. “Anyway, I actually like doing these projects. No one forces me to take them on—it’s my choice every time.”
Mark furrows his brows slightly, his teasing demeanor softening just a little. “You know you don’t have to prove anything to anyone, right?” he says, his voice quieter now, not accusatory, just matter-of-fact.
The words hang in the air for a beat, and you shrug lightly, your smile still intact. “I know,” you reply, quick and even, like that’s the end of it. The tightness in your grip on the clipboard goes unnoticed as he glances toward the court.
You lean in before he can say anything else, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Good luck, okay? You’ve always made me proud,” you say softly, your tone steady, before stepping back and turning toward the stands.
For a second, Mark just looks at you, his teasing expression fading into something softer. “Thanks,” he says quietly, and even though it’s just one word, you can hear everything else he’s not saying.
“You’re welcome,” you say lightly, stepping back. “Now, go. Win. I’ll let you know if you’re worthy of a real congratulations afterward.”
Mark huffs out a laugh, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he shakes his head. “No pressure, right?”
“None at all,” you say with a grin, turning to head to the stands.
As you walk away to get to the stands, you make your way through the cheerleaders, weaving past their perfectly straight lines and perfectly straight teeth. Their gazes sweep over you, eyes narrowing just slightly, quick glances that linger a beat too long, assessing. You can feel the silent commentary behind their stares, the unspoken judgment in the way their bodies shift to make space for you— not welcoming, but begrudging, as though your presence is a disruption to their order. It’s the kind of dismissal you’ve felt before, the silent reminder that you don’t belong in spaces like these.
Your grip tightens slightly on the clipboard, but your steps remain steady, your head high. It’s a practiced reaction, one you’ve honed over time: keep moving, show nothing. Let them think what they want. Their opinions don’t matter. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.
But then you cross paths with Karina and Areum, standing off to the side, their conversation halting the moment you enter their space. Karina turns to look at you, her sharp eyes raking over you from head to toe. Areum, in contrast, doesn’t even look at you. She leans away from Karina, her focus on her nails, inspecting them with a casual indifference.
Karina doesn’t wait for you to pass before speaking. “Seriously? A clipboard?” she says, her voice loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “What are you doing, running a study on how not to fit in?”
Areum’s laugh comes quick and light, almost like a reflex, but her attention isn’t fully on you. She doesn’t say a word, her gaze briefly flickering your way, her smirk widening for a second before she looks back down at her nails, uninterested. It’s not malice—it’s detachment, like she’s barely invested in the exchange but finds Karina’s remarks amusing enough to entertain. Her presence doesn’t add weight to the moment, but the laugh lingers, brushing against your already-fraying composure.
The weight of their judgment presses against you, but you don’t stop. You bite your tongue, your jaw tightening slightly. Without pausing, you keep your head held high and walk away, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. By the time you sit down, your focus is already on the notes in your lap. You start jotting down notes, forcing their words out of your mind. It’s just noise. You’re here for your work, for Mark.
It’s not that you’re unaware of the stares, the laughter, the low hum of judgment behind you—you feel it as clearly as the pen in your hand. But you’ve long since learned to focus through it, to let it blur into the background. You scribble away, pen scratching against paper, your jaw tightening for a fleeting second before you press it down and keep writing. You don’t stop to wonder if anyone might step in. Why would you? People don’t defend you. They never have.
It’s easier this way—to stop convincing yourself that anyone was ever meant to stand with you, to let the fire rise and take what it will without reaching for hands that were never there. The laughter doesn’t cut anymore; it drifts by, hollow and distant, as inconsequential as the faces behind it. You’ve unlearned the need to want, stripped away the instinct to hope, and in its place, something sharper remains—a clarity that feels almost intoxicating. The weight of solitude no longer presses; it stays steady, familiar, like a second skin. This isn’t defeat, nor is it grief. It’s an undeniable truth, calm and unwavering: some paths are meant to be walked alone, and maybe that’s where the strength lies.
But what you don’t notice is that someone does care. Someone does look out for you when you’re not paying attention. Mark had been watching you this whole time—since you walked away from him, weaving your way back toward the crowd. He’s seen this before—the steady but distant way you carry yourself, like you’re holding onto space that always feels just out of reach. He knows the weight it takes to be here, the quiet effort it costs to keep your head high when everything around you seems designed to press you down.
Karina and Areum command attention, as always. Karina’s confidence is calculated, every word designed to wound while her sharp-edged smile masks the intent. Her presence demands space, loud and unapologetic. Areum moves differently, her quiet magnetism effortless and untouched by the noise around her. Mark knows why he’s always noticed her, why his feelings for her linger ever since they were younger, quiet but persistent. It’s not about the way she shines, but the ease with which she moves through spaces that still feel foreign to him. Yet tonight, something in him shifts.
He watches her stand beside Karina, laughing lightly as Karina’s words turn cutting. Areum’s silence isn’t malicious, but it stings all the same, mingling with the precision of Karina’s cruelty. And then there’s you, walking away with your head high, shoulders stiff, the clipboard in your hands gripped too tightly.
It twists something in him, sharp and immediate. He knows that walk, knows how hard you’re working to hold yourself together, and for the first time, it hits him differently. It’s not just about Karina’s words or Areum’s laughter—it’s the sight of you being treated like this, dismissed like you don’t belong, when he knows how much it took for you to be here.
The sting burns hotter, pulling Mark forward before he can think better of it. His footsteps are firm, deliberate, cutting through the noise of the gym as he moves toward Karina and Areum. Their laughter falters as they catch sight of him, their conversation dying mid-sentence.
Karina’s eyes widen first, surprise flashing across her face before she masks it with that sharp-edged smile, her confidence curling back into place like armor. Areum’s reaction is quieter—her lips part slightly, her brows knitting together in subtle confusion, but it’s the way her gaze locks with Mark’s that lingers. There’s something unspoken in the look they share, a tension that neither seems willing to name. It feels heavier than the moment, deeper than the words left unsaid between them, but Mark doesn’t let himself sink into it. Not now.
He stops in front of them, his presence carrying a weight they weren’t expecting. The air shifts, the silence stretching just long enough to make Karina shift uncomfortably, her confidence wavering for a fraction of a second. “She’s got more of a place here than you do,” Mark says, his tone sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.
The shift is immediate. Karina falters, her eyes flick to Mark, and her expression softens, her tone changing in an instant. “Relax, Mark,” she says, her voice smoother now, practiced. “It was just a joke.” She steps a little closer to him, her body language shifting—her shoulders turning slightly toward him, her gaze lingering in a way that’s anything but casual. Mark doesn’t miss the way she brushes her hair back, her smile edging into something almost flirtatious.
Areum shifts uncomfortably beside her. She doesn’t speak, her earlier amusement replaced by a kind of unease, her gaze flickering between Mark and Karina before settling on the floor.
Mark doesn’t let up. “Maybe you should focus on your own life instead of hers,” he says, quieter now but no less cutting. His jaw is tight, his shoulders squared, and there’s nothing in his expression that suggests he’s willing to let it go.
Karina’s laugh comes, thin and strained. “Whatever you say, Mark,” she mutters, her smile still in place but lacking its usual bite. Her eyes linger on him a beat too long before she steps back, finally breaking the tension.
Mark doesn’t wait for her to add anything else. He turns sharply, heading back toward his team, his steps firm, his shoulders tense as the weight of the moment clings to him. The gym’s noise begins to swell again, the confrontation fading into the backdrop as if it never happened. But it did, and everyone who saw it knows it did.
Mark doesn’t feel it immediately, but the attention follows him as he walks away, the weight of lingering glances pressing heavier than before. For years, he’s been the quiet one, his presence steady but overlooked, his name spoken in passing while louder, flashier figures like Jeno commanded the spotlight. At the river court, he was a constant, but not the kind of presence anyone lingered on. Yet something has changed, subtle but undeniable. People are starting to notice—not just his game, which has sharpened with every hoop, every deliberate play, but the way he moves now, deliberate and steady, as though he’s no longer willing to stay in anyone’s shadow. There’s a gravity to him that wasn’t there before, something that draws attention and holds it. Even Karina had felt it, her words softening, her gaze dragging over him like she wasn’t used to seeing him this way. She noticed, and so did everyone else. Mark wasn’t invisible anymore, but the weight of being seen is one he doesn’t dwell on—not when something else matters more.
You’ve fully zoned out, lost in your own world. You don’t notice Mark’s eyes following you, the way they try to catch your attention, to anchor you to something outside of yourself. You don’t see him watching, the tension in his jaw or the stiffness in his shoulders, like he’s holding something back, something heavier than words. For you, this moment is no different from the ones you’ve endured countless times before—another invisible cut to add to the rest, another reminder of how easily you slip to the edges, always slightly out of step with the rhythm everyone else seems to follow so naturally.
The stares are always first, dragging over you like they’re waiting for the moment you crack. Then come the whispers, deliberate and sharp, just loud enough to reach you but not enough to let you defend yourself. The laughter follows, inevitable and bitter, wrapping around you like an echo of something you’ve long stopped trying to drown out. It presses against you—not crushing, but constant—a dull weight you’ve carried for so long it feels easier to let it settle than to push it away.
And yet, even as you sit there, trying to convince yourself it doesn’t matter, something shifts. Mark watches you from the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering as though to make sure you’re okay. He cares—more than you’ll ever realize—and even though you’ve never expected anyone to step in, he already has. You’ll never know that he defended you, and that he would again, without hesitation. For Mark, this wasn’t just another moment to let pass. It wasn’t just about what was said or who said it. It was about a line crossed, one he refused to let go unnoticed. He stepped out of the shadows for you—not for attention, not for recognition, but because you deserved better. Even if you never know it, even if you never see it, it mattered. To him, it always will.
You’re still sitting in silence, the weight in your chest dull but persistent, when a voice cuts through the gym’s noise. “Oh, look who decided to show up,” Donghyuck’s familiar tone cuts through the noise, amplified by the mic in his hand. He’s got his portable speaker slung over his shoulder, his grin sharp and full of mischief. “Ladies and gentlemen, the queen of overachieving herself has graced us with her presence. A round of applause, please!”
Your head snaps up, irritation flickering, but it dissolves as quickly as it comes. Donghyuck strides toward you with exaggerated confidence, dragging everyone else in his orbit. Chenle’s already laughing, Yangyang has a bucket of popcorn tucked under one arm, and Shotaro waves both hands high like he’s signaling a plane to land. Nahyun, trailing behind, nudges Shotaro lightly in the ribs, her expression somewhere between amusement and exasperation.
“Donghyuck, stop,” you say, leaning back in your seat.
“Oh, she speaks,” Donghyuck drawls into the mic, his gaze flicking toward you. “What’s the matter? Too preoccupied to notice pure brilliance right in front of you?”
Before you can respond to Donghyuck’s jab, Chenle grabs the mic from his hand, cutting him off effortlessly. “Ignore him,” he says with a smirk, his gaze flicking over to you. “But seriously, I can’t believe you almost didn’t show up. What kind of friend does that?” It’s true—you had been close to staying in, the weight of your project and looming deadlines pressing down on you, convincing you there were more important things to focus on. But then there was Mark—his debut wasn’t just important, it was something you couldn’t miss. You’d seen him work for this moment, and staying home would’ve felt like a betrayal. And then, of course, there was Chenle, who had called earlier, his teasing charm cutting through your hesitation and leaving you with no real excuse to stay away.
“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” you reply, shifting in your as Yangyang plops down beside you, the popcorn now balanced on your lap.
“Yeah, yeah,” Yangyang says, ruffling your hair with exaggerated affection before leaning back into his seat. “I brought popcorn. You’re welcome.”
You roll your eyes, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite yourself, before standing to hug them all. Donghyuck is first, pulling you into an exaggerated, theatrical hug. “Finally, you’ve come to a match!” he exclaims dramatically, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of a few nearby. “I’ve been saving all my best material for you, and you’ve been missing it. Do you know how much harder it is to narrate these games without my number one audience?”
Donghyuck’s “material” isn’t just his usual sarcasm—it’s his self-proclaimed role as the game’s unofficial commentator. Armed with a mic connected to a portable speaker slung over his shoulder, he spends every match narrating the plays with the flair of a professional broadcaster. He embellishes every move with ridiculous metaphors, overly enthusiastic descriptions, and enough wit to make the crowd laugh—even if half of them roll their eyes at his antics.
Chenle pulls you into a quick, firm hug next, clapping your back in that no-nonsense way that feels more grounding than anything else. Yangyang doesn’t bother standing, just pats your head twice before reclaiming the popcorn like it’s his lifeline. Then there’s Shotaro, who pulls you into a full-body squeeze so intense it knocks the air out of you. You wheeze a laugh as he steps back, grinning wide.
When it’s Nahyun’s turn, her smile is smaller, softer. She reaches out, her hands warm against your shoulders as she hugs you, her embrace unhurried. “It’s good to see you,” she says, her voice quiet but sincere.
“You too,” you reply, matching her tone, and for a fleeting moment, the weight that’s been sitting on your chest feels just a little lighter.
When the whistle blows, the gym seems to hold its breath for a fraction of a second before erupting into movement. The ball is tipped into the air, and the game begins with a sudden, sharp energy. Players streak across the court, their sneakers squeaking against the polished wood, the ball bouncing rhythmically as it moves from hand to hand.
Shotaro leans closer to you, his voice low and steady, explaining the setup. “Mark’s starting as shooting guard,” he says, nodding toward the court. “He’s got to control the pace, look for openings, and capitalize when they find them.” His explanations are precise, but his eyes never leave the court, his focus unwavering.
“Jeno’s in as a small forward tonight,” Shotaro says, his voice low but deliberate. “He’s been the shooting guard since, like, forever. For Coach to move him? That’s unheard of, Jeno’s spot on the team has been untouched… until now.”
You glance toward Jeno, your attention catching on the way he stands just outside the action, shoulders squared, his jaw tight. He doesn’t look at Mark, doesn’t look at anyone, really, his focus locked on the ball as though willing it to find him. There’s an edge to his movements, sharp and restrained, like he’s holding something back.
He fits here effortlessly—physically, at least. The jersey clings to his frame, his stance rooted in the kind of confidence that’s been built over years of owning his place on the court. But something feels off. It’s subtle, the way his posture stiffens when the ball shifts away from him, the way his eyes flick to Mark for just a fraction too long before looking away again.
Mark, on the other hand, is easy to spot. He’s quick but measured, his movements are purposeful as he shifts around the perimeter, scanning the play with sharp focus. When the ball finds him, his hands are steady, fingers splayed as he calls for it, his voice cutting through the noise of the gym. The reaction is immediate as Donghyuck’s voice booms through the speaker, brimming with exaggerated flair. “There it is, ladies and gentlemen! Number twenty-three, Mark Lee, officially making his debut with a clean pass that’s smoother than butter!”
Your friends erupt into cheers, their voices blending into the crowd’s growing roar. Chenle pumps his fist into the air, Shotaro nods approvingly, and Yangyang leans forward in his seat, his eyes locked on Mark as if willing him to succeed.
The ball comes back to Mark seconds later, this time just outside the three-point line. His movements are fluid, his form perfect as he fakes a defender with a quick pivot and drives toward the basket. Donghyuck narrates every second. “Did you see that? A fake that could break ankles—Mark Lee with the drive! Look at him go!”
The shot is clean, the ball arcing through the air before swishing through the net. The crowd surges with noise, and so do your friends.
“Yes!” Chenle shouts, clapping so loudly you think his hands might sting. “That’s how you do it!”
Yangyang exhales sharply, his grin widening. “He’s standing out already,” he says, his tone filled with awe. “First few minutes, and everyone’s already watching him.”
And it’s true. The curious eyes of the crowd seem to stick to Mark every time he touches the ball. There’s something magnetic about the way he moves—calculated but confident, the kind of presence that demands attention without asking for it.
Donghyuck doesn’t let up, his commentary a mix of genuine pride and playful exaggeration. “Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t think you’re ready for this. Mark Lee is owning this court. Someone call the league because we’ve got a star in the making!”
Yangyang leans closer, his gaze still fixed on the court. “This is wild,” he says, his voice quieter now, threaded with something heavier. “We used to play until we couldn’t feel our fingers, and now he’s here. Real jersey, real court. He actually made it.”
Chenle nods, his tone softer. “Worked harder than anyone. No one else could’ve done this. He earned all of it.”
Mark glances toward the stands after another clean pass, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before pausing, just briefly, in your direction. His expression is unreadable, but something in his posture eases, the tension in his shoulders loosening as if he can feel your presence there.
Your chest tightens slightly, not with worry anymore, but with something closer to awe. You’ve seen Mark play a hundred times before—on cracked concrete, under dim streetlights, with nothing but scraped knees and determination to show for it. But this is different. This is Mark stepping into a spotlight he’s never had before, and already, it’s like he owns it.
The ball comes back to him, and the crowd leans forward as one. Mark moves with ease, weaving through defenders like it’s second nature before going for a layup that’s so clean it feels almost effortless. The scoreboard buzzes, the points adding up, and the gym erupts again.
Shotaro claps, his expression calm but his pride evident. “That’s Mark,” he says simply, like nothing more needs to be said.
Yangyang shakes his head, a small laugh escaping. “We used to joke about this, you know? Like, ‘what if he actually makes it?’ And now…” He trails off, his eyes fixed on the court. “Now, it’s real.”
“Meanwhile,” Donghyuck’s voice cuts in through the speaker, “we’ve got Jeno Lee, usually the pride of the court, looking a little out of rhythm tonight. Guess even stars stumble when the spotlight shifts, huh?” His tone is playful, but there’s an edge to it, enough to draw a few murmurs from the crowd. Your attention flickers back to Jeno, his movements tense, controlled to the point of rigidity. He’s not playing poorly, but there’s a hesitation in him, a subtle weight that wasn’t there before.
Your gaze catches on Jeno near the baseline, his movements precise yet brimming with a tension that feels almost dangerous. He carries himself with an intensity that pulls focus without trying, each motion deliberate, calculated, but edged with something raw. His shoulders are set, his jaw tight, every shift of his body radiating control that feels like it might snap at any moment. There’s something magnetic about him, the way he commands his space with an unspoken arrogance, like he knows exactly how to draw attention—and keep it.
But it’s the cracks in that control that hold your focus. The slight flare of his nostrils when the ball slips out of his reach, the way his hands flex like he’s suppressing the urge to lash out. His eyes flick to Mark, dark and unreadable, before darting away again as Mark sinks another clean shot. It’s subtle, but it’s there—a flicker of frustration, or something sharper, lurking just beneath the surface. You can’t decide if it’s anger or something else entirely, but it simmers in the set of his shoulders, in the deliberate sharpness of his next move, and it doesn’t let go.
You notice the way his shoulders tense, the way he’s caught between holding back and wanting to dominate. His aggression is layered, restrained enough to stay controlled, but just barely. Jeno doesn’t just play the game; he pushes it, toeing the line between brilliance and frustration. He’s not easy to read, but that’s what makes him impossible to ignore.
From the corner of your eye, you catch movement at the edge of the gym. Taeyong Lee—Mark’s and Jeno’s father—stands by the sideline, a stark figure against the chaos of the game. His posture is impossibly still, his sharp features betraying no emotion as he watches the players. He’s not just observing; he’s calculating, the weight of his presence dark and deliberate. There’s something unsettling about him, a quiet menace that doesn’t need words to be felt. The resemblance to Jeno is striking—the sharp jaw, the controlled stance—but where Jeno’s tension simmers, Taeyong’s feels unshakable, like a blade waiting to be drawn. You don’t know if his attention is fixed on Jeno, Mark, or something else entirely, but the unease his presence brings is undeniable.
Jeno doesn’t look at Coach Suh on the sidelines, but you can feel the weight of his coach—and his father—in every movement he makes. Coach Suh, known for his precision and demanding leadership, stands with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on the court. A former player turned renowned coach, he’s as much a strategist as he is a disciplinarian, a figure who commands respect without ever needing to raise his voice. He’s shaped players for years, turning raw talent into polished skill, and his expectations are nothing short of perfection—especially for his own players.
You force yourself to keep taking notes, eyes skimming over the scribbled lines, but your focus falters when it drifts to Coach Suh. He stands at the edge of the court, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the players with a calm intensity that feels too precise. There’s something about the way he carries himself—steady, deliberate—that makes your stomach knot, a tension blooming in your chest that you can’t quite suppress. Your lips press into a thin line, the motion subtle but instinctive, before you force your eyes back to your notes. The pen in your hand hovers, unmoving, as the quiet weight of his presence lingers.
For a moment, the noise of the gym recedes into a distant hum, replaced by a sharper, more personal tension. It’s not the first time his presence has unsettled you—not the first time your composure has felt fragile under the gravity he seems to carry—but tonight, it feels heavier, cutting through your practiced detachment like a blade grazing too close to old wounds. You don’t look up again, but the tightness in your chest doesn’t ease, no matter how hard you try to will it away.
Nahyun leans in, her voice low but insistent, cutting through the thick haze of your thoughts. “I know Coach Suh is really hot, but you were really staring just now,” she says, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile.
You blink, caught off guard, before a quiet laugh escapes you, the tension in your chest loosening just slightly. “I wasn’t staring,” you mumble, though the heat creeping up your neck betrays you.
“Sure you weren’t,” Nahyun replies, her giggle light and teasing, but her tone isn’t sharp. It’s the kind of comment only she would make—honest but harmless, pulling you out of the moment without pushing too far.
For a brief second, the weight in your chest eases, but your gaze drifts back to the court, where Jeno’s intensity hasn’t faltered for even a moment. Mark, on the other hand, is thriving. Every pass he makes is precise, every shot purposeful, and the crowd is feeding off his energy. The gym hums with excitement, spectators leaning forward in their seats as they watch the new addition to the team move like he’s been playing here his entire life.
You catch a glimpse of Coach Suh and his assistant, their wide eyes betraying a mix of surprise and approval. They exchange quiet words, their expressions unreadable but focused on Mark. It’s clear he’s exceeding expectations, a standout in his very first game. The spectators clap and cheer louder with every shot he makes, and the gym’s energy feels electric, vibrating with the kind of unity that only a win can bring.
Donghyuck’s voice booms through the mic, loud and playful as always. “Ladies and gentlemen, can we just take a moment to appreciate number twenty-three, Mark Lee? He’s not just a rookie—he’s a revelation! Someone get this man a cape, because he’s carrying the Ravens to glory tonight!”
Your friends erupt in cheers as the final countdown begins, the seconds ticking down like thunder. “That’s our boy!” Yangyang shouts, pumping his fist in the air. Chenle and Shotaro join in, their voices blending with the roar of the crowd. Even Nahyun claps, her usual quiet demeanor replaced with genuine excitement. It’s not just pride—it’s joy, infectious and overwhelming, the kind that pulls you in completely.
The buzzer sounds, and the Ravens secure their win. The stands explode into celebration, students jumping to their feet, shouting and clapping in unison. And at the center of it all is Mark, the clear standout of the night. His teammates pat his back, their smiles wide as they pull him into a huddle. For a moment, everything feels lighter, the weight you carried into the gym replaced with something brighter as you watch Mark soak in his victory.
But the shift comes fast, sharp, and unexpected.
Your gaze catches Jeno breaking away from his teammates, his expression unreadable but his steps purposeful as he moves toward Mark. The celebration continues around them, but there’s a sudden tension that coils in the air, snapping your focus back to the court.
Jeno’s voice is low, his words too quiet to reach you, but whatever he says makes Mark turn sharply, his smile fading into something harder. Mark squares his shoulders, his hands rising slightly as if to diffuse the moment, but Jeno doesn’t stop. He steps closer, his stance confrontational, his frustration from earlier spilling over like a dam breaking.
The punch comes before you can fully register what’s happening. Jeno’s fist connects with Mark’s jaw in one sharp, brutal motion, and the sound of it cuts through the gym like a crack of lightning. Gasps ripple through the crowd, the celebration grinding to a halt as Mark stumbles back, his hand shooting up to his face.
“Whoa, whoa!” Donghyuck’s voice booms through the mic, shock laced into his usual dramatic tone. “Someone call security, because that is not regulation play!”
Mark doesn’t retaliate, at least not immediately. His eyes blaze as he steadies himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Blood smears across his knuckles, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he steps forward, his voice sharp as he fires back at Jeno. You can’t make out the words, but the intensity between them is palpable, a storm brewing in the center of the court.
Teammates rush to intervene, pulling them apart before it escalates further. Jeno struggles against the hands holding him back, his chest heaving, his eyes fixed on Mark with a fury that feels unrelenting. Mark, on the other hand, seems calmer now, though the tension in his jaw doesn’t ease as he’s pulled toward the sidelines.
The gym is no longer celebrating. The buzz of excitement has drained out of the room, leaving only a suffocating silence as the aftermath of Jeno’s outburst settles like smoke in the air. Spectators shift uncomfortably in their seats, whispers rippling through the crowd as everyone tries to piece together what just happened. You can’t look away. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch Jeno being pulled toward the bench, his jaw clenched tight, fury still radiating off him in waves. Across the court, Mark stands tall, though his jaw is red from the impact, and there’s a tension in his posture that betrays the calm he’s trying to project. The victory—the joy of the Ravens’ first win with Mark on the team—feels like it was hours ago, eclipsed by the chaos that unraveled in a matter of seconds.
“Let’s go,” Yangyang mutters, already moving down toward the court. You follow instinctively, weaving through the thinning crowd with your friends close behind. Mark is surrounded by his teammates, their congratulations now muted and uneasy, but he’s still smiling when he spots you all approaching. The moment his eyes land on you, the earlier tension in his shoulders eases just slightly, and he steps forward to greet you.
You reach him first, pulling him into a tight hug without thinking. “I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the knot in your chest.
Mark’s arms tighten around you briefly, grounding you even amidst the chaos. “Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now. When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, and for a second, you see the weight he’s carrying—the strain behind the composed exterior. “Really. It means a lot.”
You hesitate for only a moment before speaking, your tone softer now. “Are you okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with him,” you say, the words edged with quiet anger. “Jeno’s an ass, Mark. He’s always been like this, and you don’t deserve it.”
Mark shakes his head, a tight-lipped smile crossing his face. “I’m fine,” he says, the words steady but leaving little room for argument. “It’s part of it, right? Just something I’ve gotta handle.”
You don’t agree, but you don’t push either. Instead, your voice lowers, firm but full of care. “He’s lucky that’s all you gave him.”
That pulls a faint laugh from Mark, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “You’re not wrong,” he says, the tension in his expression easing, even if just for a moment.
The others swarm in after you, the tension easing as Donghyuck throws an arm around Mark’s shoulders, ignoring the red mark on his jaw. “Dude, that was insane,” Donghyuck says, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, as if the fight hadn’t even happened. “Seriously, I’ve got a whole commentary reel planned for you. Starting with: Mark Lee, the pride of the Ravens—taking hits on and off the court!”
“Cut it out,” Shotaro says, but there’s a small smile on his face as he passes Mark a towel. “You did great out there. Really.”
“Seriously,” Yangyang adds, his usual playfulness absent. “We know what it took to get here, and… well, just don’t let idiots like him ruin it for you.”
Mark laughs, but it’s quiet, a sound that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m good, I promise.” he says, but there’s a tension in his tone that none of you miss.
“You sure?” Nahyun asks, her voice softer, steadier. She’s watching Mark carefully, her concern clear in the way her gaze lingers on him.
“I am,” Mark insists, but when he looks at you, there’s a flicker of something vulnerable, something unspoken. “Really. I’ll be fine.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, and you all let them sit, knowing he’s holding back more than he’s letting on. The pep talk that follows isn’t just for him—it’s for all of you, a way to push back the nervousness gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.
“Chenle’s right,” Donghyuck says, his tone lighter now but no less genuine. “Screw Jeno. He’s just pissed because you’re better than him, and he knows it.”
“And because Taeyong knows it,” Yangyang adds, glancing toward the sidelines where Jeno’s father watches with a gaze sharp enough to cut steel.
“Taeyong’s not playing,” Shotaro says firmly. “This is your game, Mark. Don’t forget that.”
Mark nods, his smile small but real this time. “I won’t,” he says. “Thanks, guys. Really.”
The Ravens’ bench is a stark contrast to your group, the tension between the players palpable. They’re scattered, avoiding each other’s gazes, their confusion and unease as visible as the sweat on their brows. Even Jaemin, who rarely lets his composure slip, exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to physically shake off the discomfort of being stuck between Mark and Jeno.
The chaos doesn’t just sit with the Ravens, though. It’s there in your group too, beneath the laughter and teasing, in the way your friends stick close to Mark like they’re guarding him from the fallout. You all know what this team means, what joining the Ravens will cost him. It’s not just about the game. It’s about Jeno, about Taeyong, about the pressure that’s already weighing on Mark’s shoulders.
Chenle breaks the tension with a grin, leaning in to nudge Mark. “Just don’t forget about us when you’re a big star, alright? You might be getting a lot of fans and attention now, but we paid attention to you first.” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge of sincerity beneath it, a quiet plea wrapped in humor. Chenle rarely says what he means outright, but the way his gaze lingers on Mark, steady and uncharacteristically serious, gives him away. It’s not just a joke—it’s a reminder of where they started, a subtle way of grounding Mark when everything else around him feels uncertain.
Mark doesn’t even pause to consider his response. “Never,” he says firmly, his voice cutting through the noise around you with a conviction that feels unshakable. His gaze sweeps across your group, and you can see it in his eyes—the promise isn’t just for Chenle. It’s for all of you. “It’s home. Always will be.”
The words are simple, but the weight they carry is anything but. There’s something unspoken that passes between all of you in that moment, a reassurance you didn’t realize you needed until it settles in your chest. Mark might be here, on this bigger stage, surrounded by new teammates and a louder crowd, but he’s still yours. No matter how far he goes, no matter what heights he reaches, Mark’s roots are with you, and he’s not leaving that behind. He’s not leaving you behind.
He’s still the same Mark who sat with you on the cracked pavement of the river court when life felt too heavy, the basketball forgotten at his feet as he listened without interrupting. The same Mark who stayed until the sky turned dark, the faint hum of the river filling the spaces where words couldn’t. He’s still the same Mark who played with you until the streetlights flickered on, who laughed until his sides hurt when Donghyuck tried to narrate the games like a professional announcer.
Yangyang claps Mark on the shoulder, breaking the quiet thread of nostalgia with his crooked grin. “You better not,” he says, his voice low but firm, his usual humor taking on an edge of seriousness. “Because if you do, we’ll drag you back ourselves. No way you’re leaving us in the dust.”
Mark’s laugh is quiet, but it’s real, a soft sound that feels lighter than anything that’s passed between you all tonight. For a brief moment, the weight of the fight, the tension in the gym, and the unease that’s lingered since the final buzzer all seem to fade. It’s just you and your group, the people who’ve been there for Mark through everything, and who always will be.
When he turns back to you, his expression softens, and there’s a hesitation in his eyes that pulls at something deep in your chest. “Did Mum come?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost unsure.
You look at him for a moment, as if searching for an answer, even though you already know it. Finally, you shake your head, matching his tone as you reply, “No. She didn’t.”
Mark nods slowly, his smile faltering for just a second before he recovers, smoothing it out into something steady and practiced. “It’s fine,” he says, his tone even but distant. “It’s not her thing anyway.”
You don’t press, and neither does anyone else. The silence hangs heavy for a moment, before Donghyuck, ever the deflector, slings an arm around Mark again. “Alright, alright, enough with the moody stuff,” he says, launching into an exaggerated monologue about Mark’s “heroic performance” on the court, complete with mock commentary and over-the-top gestures. The absurdity finally earns a real laugh from Mark, one that ripples through the group like a wave, lightening the air around you.
The tension lingers in the background, but it doesn’t define the moment. What stands out is the way your group comes together, the way each of you leans into your roles without even thinking—Donghyuck’s humor, Yangyang’s blunt honesty, Nahyun’s quiet warmth, Shotaro’s steady presence, Chenle’s sharp wit—all of it meshing into something that feels solid, unshakable. It’s effortless, a kind of belonging that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud, and for a second, it feels like nothing outside of this small circle could touch you.
The Ravens linger on the court, their movements stilted, their expressions uncertain as they glance toward Mark. Their unity feels like an illusion—strained and held together by necessity rather than genuine connection. The difference is glaring. It’s not hard to see where Mark truly belongs, where his foundation lies. It isn’t with the polished façade of his new team, where harmony feels more like an obligation than a bond. It’s here, among the people who’ve been with him before the spotlight, before the stakes were this high. The ones who don’t need a crowd or a jersey to know who he is, who will stay long after the lights fade and the noise disappears.
But then your gaze shifts, pulled by something darker, something unspoken that cuts through the lightness of the moment like a blade. You feel him before you see him, an unseen ripple in the air that brushes against your senses, cold and invasive, like the first breath of winter creeping through a cracked window. It isn’t sound or movement that gives him away—it’s the weight, a suffocating presence that clings to your skin, seeps into your chest, and settles heavy, like an omen you can’t ignore. He’s a shadow stretching long before dusk, a storm carving silence into the sky, waiting to break. By the time your gaze finds him, it’s almost too late—he’s already there, fixed and unrelenting, a wound you didn’t realize you’d opened.
Jeno.
He sits on the bench, his body honed and sharp as a predator in stillness, elbows braced on his knees, the loose fabric of his jersey stretching over shoulders that seem carved to intimidate. His posture is coiled, almost too controlled, as if the slightest shift would unleash something you aren’t ready to see. His jaw is tight, the sharp line of it catching the light, and a faint pulse throbs at his temple, rhythmic and precise, like the ticking of a countdown. His eyes—dark, endless, and cutting—are locked onto your group with a focus that feels inescapable.
It isn’t anger flashing in those depths; it’s something quieter, more insidious, a steady burn just beneath the surface. It’s the kind of gaze that knows its own power, that pins you in place, a hunter with no need to chase. He’s beautiful in a way that doesn’t soften the sharp edges; it amplifies them. The shadows clinging to him aren’t imperfections—they’re the thing that makes him impossible to look away from.
The gym hums with life around him, the sound of laughter swelling as Mark smiles, as your friends lean into each other’s easy rhythm like nothing else matters. But Jeno’s gaze cuts through it all, invasive and heavy, pressing against your chest like it knows where you’re weakest. It’s not just loneliness—not the hollow ache of solitude—it’s sharper, crueler, the kind of emptiness that demands to be filled.
Even his stillness is deliberate, a quiet defiance against the chaos of the gym. He doesn’t belong here, not among the fleeting ease of laughter or the bright warmth of companionship. He’s the shadow cast by the light, the storm biding its time. The muscles in his forearms flex subtly as his hands curl into fists against his knees, and you realize the tension isn’t just in his body—it’s in the room, in the way everything seems to shift under the weight of his presence.
His stare is slow, deliberate, and every time his eyes lock onto yours, it feels as though the world grinds to a halt. That gaze—it’s sharp enough to slice, dragging over you like a scalpel cutting too deep. There’s no fury, no malice, but it doesn’t need either. It’s the precision of it—the way it peels you open, lays you bare, and leaves you exposed to something raw and unrelenting.
He holds it, letting the moment stretch thin and taut, the air between you charged with something you can’t name but feel in every nerve. The gym falls away; there’s only him, watching you like a man standing on the edge of something he can’t turn back from. His beauty is almost unnerving up close—the symmetry of his features made sharper by the darkness in his eyes, the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth a whisper of something dangerous.
And just as quickly, it’s gone.
He leans back, the movement unhurried, fluid, the kind of grace that seems effortless but deliberate, like every shift of his body is crafted to draw your attention. The loose fabric of his jersey pulls against his chest and shoulders as he stretches slightly, his physique etched in sharp lines and hard edges, a perfect blend of power and control. His jaw tightens for a fraction of a second, the muscle flexing beneath his skin before his expression smooths out, closing off like a door slammed shut. His fists tighten briefly on his thighs, the veins running along his forearms stark and pronounced, a quiet reminder of the restrained strength lying just beneath the surface. When he exhales, it’s measured, calculated, a coldness settling over him that feels more like armor than indifference. But the weight of him doesn’t leave. It lingers, creeping into your skin, slow and invasive, a chill that roots itself deep. Even when his eyes are no longer on you, their imprint remains, like a scar carved by a blade you never saw coming.
A sudden warmth pulls you out of your thoughts. Yangyang’s arm slides around your waist, his voice low and steady. “What’s up? You’ve been zoning out all day.”
You blink, shaking off the heaviness that clings to you like a second skin. “I’m fine,” you say quickly, forcing a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
Yangyang doesn’t push, though the slight tilt of his head tells you he doesn’t believe you. Before he can press further, Donghyuck’s voice cuts through the moment, brimming with energy. “Alright, listen up! Post-victory meal, my treat—unless Mark’s paying, which he should be, considering he’s the star tonight.”
Mark groans, rolling his eyes as the rest of the group chimes in with cheers and playful demands. Chenle nudges your shoulder, smirking. “You coming, or do you have another meeting to attend? You’re always running off somewhere. Deadlines to crush, right?”
You shake your head, letting out a soft laugh. “I’ll meet you guys there. I have something to take care of first.”
“Of course you do,” Donghyuck teases, tossing a glance your way as the group starts to head out. “You practically live on campus anyway. Do they even let you leave, or are you just chained to your deadlines?”
You roll your eyes but don’t reply, the weight of your next destination already pulling at you. The group moves ahead, their laughter a distant hum, fading into the background as you take a different path. The echo of Jeno’s gaze lingers, an unwelcome shadow pressed against your thoughts, sharp and piercing. You push it aside, but it clings to you, a reminder you don’t have time for.
The court feels unnaturally quiet now. The noise and energy that had filled the space are gone, replaced by a heavy stillness that settles in the corners. You stay near the sideline, notepad balanced on your palm, the pen in your hand tapping absently as your focus shifts. The remnants of the game—the tension, the collisions, the unspoken hierarchies—replay in your mind as you sift through your hurriedly written notes.
You flip to a blank page, drawing a line to separate the chaos of the match from the clarity you needed now. The fragmented thoughts scrawled earlier in the heat of observation begin to take shape, sharp edges forming where before there had only been loose ends.
Notes from Match Observation:
Team Dynamics — Disjointed. Evidence of strain between players, particularly between Mark and Jeno. Tension palpable during high-pressure plays. Needs further analysis—determine if conflict is personal or role-based.
Mark — Quick on his feet. Adjusts easily to dynamic shifts. Shows natural leadership qualities, but lacks rapport with senior players. Body language relaxed, even during high-pressure moments. Maintains focus despite external distractions.
Jeno — Aggressive playstyle. Repeated possession turnovers suggest emotional interference. Observable frustration when Mark assumes control. Physical responses to perceived loss of dominance (e.g., tightened jaw, clenched fists, heightened aggression). Behavior warrants deeper psychological analysis—potential patterns of territorialism or insecurity.
You paused, rereading the notes about Jeno. The way he moved on the court stuck with you, more than anyone else’s performance. His aggression hadn’t just been frustration; it was personal. His focus had lingered too long on Mark, his movements sharper, almost reckless, when the ball left his hands. It wasn’t just about winning—it was about control.
Potential hypothesis for the project, you wrote, underlining the phrase. Jeno’s performance linked to perceived loss of position and authority. Explore psychological response to shifting team roles.
The project was still forming in your mind, but the path was becoming clearer. The study wasn’t just about the game itself; it was about what happened beneath the surface—the interplay of ego, competition, and vulnerability in a team dynamic. Jeno, whether he realized it or not, had become central to your observations. His reactions on the court offered more insight into the psychological strain of competition than anything you’d seen in prior matches.
But the plan went beyond just observing. You would have to dig deeper—find the cracks in the polished surface and figure out what made players like Jeno tick. It wasn’t enough to watch. You’d have to challenge them, push them, get under their skin in ways they wouldn’t expect.
You scribbled another note on the page, bolder this time: Focus: Jeno. Fractured team hierarchy—monitor response under controlled pressure.
The quiet of the court was beginning to feel heavy, oppressive. You exhaled, pressing your pen to the page one last time. The plan was taking shape, but the weight of it was settling in your chest. This wasn’t going to be easy, not with players like Jeno in the mix.
Closing your notebook, you glanced toward the gym’s exit. The next step was clear, and your meeting was waiting. You square your shoulders, tucking the notepad under your arm as you make your way toward Coach Suh’s office, the project already shifting in your mind, gaining sharper edges with every step.
The walk to Coach Suh’s office was short, but the weight of anticipation stretched it, each step landing heavier than the last. The muted thud of your shoes against the polished floor echoed faintly in the empty hallway, a sound that seemed to grow louder in the silence. Your grip tightened on the neatly stacked notes in your hand, the edges digging lightly into your skin—a grounding sensation against the hum of thoughts swirling in your mind. By the time you reached the door, your mask of composure had settled firmly into place, every movement deliberate as you raised your hand to knock twice, the sound sharp and decisive before you stepped inside.
Coach Suh was both a seasoned coach and an adjunct professor in sports psychology, overseeing several interdisciplinary studies, including yours—a project on the psychological effects of competition. His dual roles made him an intimidating figure, but his insight and fairness were undeniable, and you valued the rigor he brought to your work. It was his belief in the importance of understanding team dynamics and mental resilience that had made this project possible.
His office reflected the complexity of his role, blending academic precision with a personal history rooted in basketball. The polished wooden desk at the center of the room gleamed under the warm glow of a desk lamp, its surface organized with neatly stacked papers, a clipboard, and a single coffee mug faintly stained at the rim. Behind him, shelves stretched to the ceiling, crammed with psychology textbooks, binders filled with meticulous notes, and scattered awards gleaming faintly in the light.
Framed photos of championship wins lined the walls, capturing moments frozen in time—his younger self alongside triumphant teams, the exhilaration of victory etched in every face. Notably absent, however, was a photo of the current Seoul Ravens holding the state championship trophy. That picture didn’t exist yet; they hadn’t won. The space where it could hang seemed to glare as a reminder of the pressure that loomed over the team, the weight of expectations yet unmet.
Beside them hung detailed diagrams of plays and strategies, their edges worn from years of reference. A basketball, worn smooth from countless games, sat proudly on a stand in the corner, its surface scuffed with the marks of a career steeped in competition.
The room smelled faintly of leather and coffee, grounding yet charged, and the hum of the air conditioning added a low, constant backdrop. It was a space that felt deeply personal yet exuded structured professionalism, every detail chosen to reflect both his authority and his humanity.
But you weren’t prepared for Jeno.
He was slouched in one of the chairs, his long frame sprawled in a way that seemed deliberately enticing—like he was daring the room to notice him. His posture feigned ease, but the tautness in his jaw betrayed him, and the restless rhythm of his fingers against the chair’s arm hinted at a frustration that wasn’t meant to stay contained. There was something magnetic about him, a pull you couldn’t deny, even as his irritation crackled in the air like static. The loose fabric of his jersey stretched over his chest and shoulders, the exposed skin at his neck glistening faintly under the office’s fluorescent lights, and his legs, spread wide, radiated a careless confidence that felt far from accidental.
“…completely unacceptable, Jeno. I don’t care how frustrated you were out there. You’re the captain—you set the tone for the team. This isn’t just about you.”
Jeno’s nostrils flared slightly, his lips thinning as though he was physically swallowing the retort clawing its way up his throat. He didn’t move, but the air around him shifted, charged with something volatile. His gaze burned like a smoldering coal, the weight of it heavy and deliberate as it dragged over you the moment you entered the room. He didn’t look at you like you were interrupting—he looked at you like you were trespassing. And yet, his eyes lingered, dragging over you with a heat that felt out of place in the sterile office, searing and unsettling.
You don’t feel conflicted about interrupting them—not even for a second. Whatever tension you’d walked into, it didn’t belong to you, and you weren’t going to let it settle on your shoulders. Jeno’s sharp gaze might have been meant to unnerve you, but it slid off like water against stone. This was your meeting, your project, and your purpose in this room wasn’t secondary to his reprimand. You stepped forward with steady composure, the cool detachment you’d mastered over the years serving you well now. Whatever storm you’d walked into, you didn’t plan on getting caught in it.
However you apologise out of common courtesy “Sorry to interrupt,” you said evenly, your voice steady as you moved further inside. The door clicked shut behind you, and the sound felt louder than it should have in the tension-filled room. You turned toward Coach Suh, keeping your focus sharp. “I’m here for our meeting.”
Coach Suh’s stern expression softened slightly as his attention shifted to you. His demeanor was still authoritative but carried a familiarity that felt both reassuring and dangerous. He gestured to the empty chair beside Jeno. “Right on time, as always. Have a seat, Y/N.”
You moved toward the chair, acutely aware of Jeno’s eyes tracking your every step. Jeno didn’t adjust his posture as you passed him, but you felt the weight of his gaze tracking you, his annoyance now mixed with something harder to place. You settled into the seat, placing your notes on the table and smoothing them out as if to physically organize the tension crackling in the air.
Coach Suh resumed speaking, his tone sharp but composed as he turned back to Jeno. “Your role as captain isn’t just about skill, Jeno. It’s about leadership. You can’t afford to lose your head during a game. What you did tonight put the entire team at risk.”
Jeno’s jaw ticked, and his hands curled into loose fists on the armrests, the veins along his forearms standing out against his skin. He exhaled through his nose, a short, sharp sound that felt more like a warning than a concession. His eyes flicked to you again, narrowing slightly, as if your presence added another layer to whatever war was raging beneath his skin. The corner of your mouth twitched, but you kept your expression neutral, your gaze trained on Coach Suh.
You didn’t need to look at Jeno to know his body language screamed defiance. You could feel it in the taut silence between his words and his barely restrained movements, in the way his fingers curled and straightened against the armrest like he was trying to grip the air itself. It wasn’t just the reprimand that had him on edge—it was the fact that you were here to witness it.
And yet, he said nothing. For all his irritation, his silence was its own kind of rebellion, simmering and sharp, just waiting for the right moment to explode.
You set your pen down beside your notes and finally broke the silence. “Should we get started?” you asked, your tone professional but with an edge of confidence. You weren’t about to let Jeno’s simmering irritation throw you off. This was your space now, not his.
Coach Suh gave a sharp nod, his focus shifting to you. “Yes, let’s.”
Coach Suh leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the desk, his sharp gaze fixed on you as you explained the framework of your project. “The psychological impact of team dynamics and competition,” you began, your voice measured and steady. “I want to examine how roles, rivalries, and external pressures affect both individual and collective performance under high-stakes conditions.”
“And your methodology?” Coach Suh asked, his tone challenging but not dismissive.
“I’ve started with observational data from games and practices—analyzing body language, verbal communication, and physical responses during pressure moments,” you replied, meeting his gaze directly. “That’s supplemented with self-assessments from players and, eventually, post-game interviews to compare their internal perceptions to observed behavior.”
Coach Suh nodded slowly, the gesture deliberate, his approval subtle but palpable. “Interesting approach. And you believe these observations will lead to actionable insights for the team?”
“Yes,” you said without hesitation. “The goal isn’t just analysis. It’s identifying patterns and providing strategies to improve cohesion, reduce conflict, and maximize performance.”
Jeno’s presence, however, was impossible to ignore. He hadn’t moved much—his arm still draped over the backrest of his chair, the other resting lazily on his thigh—but there was an electric undercurrent to his stillness, like a predator waiting to pounce. His fingers tapped against the chair’s edge, an uneven rhythm that grated against your nerves. His gaze burned into you, heavy and unreadable, and every now and then, a quiet scoff slipped past his lips, deliberate enough to make sure you noticed.
You ignored him, for the most part, focusing instead on presenting your findings. But as you reached for your notes to hand them over to Coach Suh, Jeno moved faster than you anticipated. His hand shot out, snatching the pages from yours, the brush of his fingers against your skin fleeting but searing. He leaned back in his chair, unfolding the notes with an air of casual arrogance, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer.
Jeno’s scoff deepened as his eyes flicked down each page, scanning it with a deliberate slowness that felt almost mocking. His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the notebook, his brow furrowing at certain lines. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he said nothing at first, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably long. Finally, he glanced back at you, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smirk.
“This is what you’re so proud of?” he said, his tone cutting. “Psychological impacts? Team dynamics? What’s next, diagnosing us all with daddy issues?”
Your jaw tightened, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, your hand darted forward, fingers curling around the other edge of the page to snatch it back. For a fleeting moment, your fingers brushed against his. His skin was warm yet rough against yours, and for that brief, electrified moment, it was impossible to ignore the tension pulling taut between you.
His eyes snapped to yours at the touch, dark and unreadable, as if daring you to say something.
You muttered under your breath, barely audible, “Wouldn’t be hard considering who your father is. He’d give me enough material for a dissertation.”
Jeno’s head snapped toward you, his eyes narrowing, tension coiling around him like a wire pulled too tight. “What did you just say?”
You straightened slightly, meeting his sharp gaze with a coolness that only seemed to stoke the fire in his expression. “I said, if you’re feeling particularly exposed, maybe that’s a reflection of your own behavior,” you shot back, your tone cutting and deliberate, the weight of your earlier mutter still hanging unspoken between you.
“So, basically, you’re just going to watch us, scribble a few notes, and decide who’s the problem?” His voice was low, biting, but his words landed with the precision of a thrown dagger.
You turned toward him, your expression calm but sharp. “Not at all,” you said evenly. “Besides, if there’s a problem, it usually makes itself obvious.”
Jeno’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Sounds like you’ve already decided how this ends.”
“Only for people who give me something to write about,” you shot back, your tone cool and unyielding.
His gaze flicked up to meet yours, the air between you shifting, tightening, until it felt like the whole room was holding its breath. He let the words hang for a moment, the tension palpable, before his lips curled into something dangerously close to a sneer. “Right,” he drawled, tossing the notes onto the desk in front of Coach Suh with deliberate carelessness, “because watching us like we’re lab rats is definitely going to help the team.”
“You’re not that interesting, Jeno,” you said coolly, your voice steady despite the fire licking at the edges of your composure. “But if you think my observations might shed some light on your temper tantrums, feel free to keep reacting this way. You’re making my job easier.”
Jeno leaned forward now, the arm he’d draped lazily over the chair falling to rest on his knee. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in them almost suffocating. “You really think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low and edged with something darker.
You didn’t back down, your gaze unwavering as you met his. “I don’t need to figure you out,” you replied, your voice sharp and unwavering. “You’re doing all the work for me.”
The corners of Jeno’s mouth twitched, his lips curving into a faint, taunting smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. He leaned back, his body settling into a posture that screamed ease, though the charged air around him told another story. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you,” he murmured, his voice a low drawl, laced with a dark amusement that made your stomach twist. His gaze flicked over you, deliberate and heavy. “Let me guess—you think you’re the smartest person here. That whatever this little project of yours is, it’s actually going to matter.”
You let his words hang in the air for a beat, your fingers curling tighter around the edge of your notebook. Slowly, you tilted your head, meeting his gaze with a calm that didn’t waver, though your pulse thrummed in your ears. “I am the smartest person in here and it matters enough to get under your skin,” you replied, your voice smooth but cutting, each word measured. You leaned forward just slightly, the movement deliberate, like you were closing the distance without actually touching him. “For someone who acts like they don’t care, you’re trying awfully hard to prove it.”
Jeno’s expression hardened, the mocking curve of his lips flattening as his eyes darkened. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just let the weight of your words hang in the air between you. The room felt too small, the tension pressing against your skin like a vice, but you refused to break eye contact, your fingers tightening around your notebook as if it could ground you.
Then, he shifted, rising slowly from his chair. The scrape of the legs against the floor echoed in the tense quiet, sharp enough to set your pulse racing, but you stayed seated, your back stiff and your chin lifting just slightly in defiance. He didn’t say a word as he moved closer, his steps deliberate, calculated, the weight of his presence pressing down on you with every inch he closed.
Stopping just in front of you, he leaned down, one hand gripping the back of your chair, the other settling on the edge of the desk beside you. His scent—an intoxicating mix of cedarwood and something darker, like smoke and the faintest trace of cologne—washed over you, unsettling in its familiarity. The proximity was dizzying, his broad shoulders framing your view, his presence magnetic in a way you couldn’t ignore. The way he loomed over you wasn’t just intimidating; it was suffocating, every inch of closeness a silent dare.
“For someone who claims to have me all figured out,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp that slid down your spine, “you’re spending an awful lot of time looking at me. Writing about me.” His eyes flicked down briefly, catching on your notebook still clutched in your lap before dragging back up to yours.
Your grip on the notebook tightened, but you didn’t flinch. “I’m doing my job,” you said, your voice steady despite the tremor threatening to creep into it. “If that bothers you so much, maybe stop giving me so much material.”
Jeno let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound vibrating in the charged air between you. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a fraction of a second before snapping back up. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” he said softly, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your skin. Without touching you, he leaned in, the space between you evaporating as his hand slid along the desk, bracing firmly against its surface. The movement was deliberate, calculated, and as his arm inched closer to your shoulder, the proximity boxed you in completely. His breath ghosted over your skin, warm and faintly uneven, and the sheer weight of his presence felt like a challenge you weren’t sure how to answer.
“And you think you’re intimidating,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unwavering, even as the air between you crackled with tension. Your heart was racing, a rapid, pounding rhythm that betrayed the calm exterior you wore, but you didn’t shrink away. Instead, you tilted your chin higher, meeting his gaze with steady defiance. You leaned forward ever so slightly, your movement instinctive, a flicker of something unspoken drawing you closer.
Jeno’s reaction was immediate, though fleeting—a slight hitch in his breath, the faintest flicker of surprise breaking through the tension in his expression. His gaze dropped, sweeping over you as if recalibrating, before locking onto your eyes again, sharper now, darker. His jaw tightened, his grip on the desk shifting subtly, his knuckles brushing the edge as if grounding himself.
“You really don’t know when to stop,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, the words almost a growl. Yet, for all the bite in his tone, there was something else lingering in the way his shoulders stiffened, the way his gaze swept over the angle of your jaw, your mouth. It wasn’t intimidation he was trying to hold onto now—it was control.
You leaned in slightly, your breath brushing against his jaw as you spoke, your voice calm but edged with challenge. “You know, all you’re doing is proving my point,” you murmured, your words deliberate, carrying a weight that matched the tension between you. Your hand shifted subtly, resting against the arm of your chair, grazing the space where his fingers gripped the desk. The movement wasn’t calculated, but the way his breath hitched, the flicker in his eyes as they dropped to the closeness, told you he’d felt it too. You tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze fully, daring him to say more.
Jeno’s eyes dropped to your lips, the movement subtle but unmissable. He didn’t hide it, didn’t even try, and the deliberate slowness of it sent a jolt through you. The air between you felt impossibly heavy, the heat of his body so close it brushed against your skin. Your hand shifted on the chair’s arm, the movement unthinking, but it brought your fingers close to his on the desk, grazing just barely. His breath hitched, the sound almost imperceptible, but it was there.
His gaze snapped back to yours, darker now, his pupils blown wide. “You really think you have the upper hand here?” he asked, his voice low and biting, the edge of it sharp enough to draw blood.
You didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. Your lips curved just slightly, and you answered with a simple, defiant, “Yes. Of course I do.”
There it was—the faintest stifle of a sound in his throat, one he couldn’t quite swallow back. His tongue darted out, dragging across his lips in a way that seemed more reflex than intention, but his eyes were glued to yours—or, no, to your lips. The intensity of his stare burned through the space between you, and it felt as though the air itself had thickened, holding the two of you in place.
The moment stretched unbearably long, charged with an energy that had nowhere to go. His hand pressed harder against the desk, veins tightening against his skin, while his shoulders shifted, leaning just enough closer to make you feel like he was about to say—or do—something neither of you could take back.
“Am I interrupting?” Coach Suh’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, sharp and clear.
You didn’t move. Neither did Jeno. Your eyes stayed locked, breaths shallow, the weight of Coach Suh’s question lingering somewhere outside the charged bubble neither of you dared to acknowledge. His lips were slightly parted, his breathing uneven, and despite every shred of composure you clung to, your gaze flicked there—just for a moment, just long enough to make the heat between you unbearable.
But you didn’t stop. Your eyes traced the sharp line of his jaw, the faint flex of tension in his throat as he swallowed hard, the way his tongue ghosted over his lower lip like he couldn’t help himself. Something unspoken crackled between you, thick and suffocating, and when your eyes snapped back to his, they were darker, hungrier, as if he’d caught you staring and wasn’t letting it go.
Still, neither of you flinched, neither of you gave in, your breaths coming too shallow and too close, mingling in the small space between you. His hand, still braced on the desk beside you, tightened briefly, his knuckles brushing against the edge of your armrest. You leaned in just slightly, so slightly it wasn’t deliberate—but the effect was devastating.
His pupils dilated further, the sharp inhale he took barely audible, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. His gaze dragged down again, tracing the curve of your mouth, then slowly back up to your eyes, holding them with a force that sent a shiver skimming down your spine. The room might as well have disappeared.
Coach Suh cleared his throat again, louder, pointed, and still neither of you turned. The tension hung heavy for one more breath before Jeno shifted, leaning back slightly, though the heat of his presence didn’t fully retreat. His fingers stayed braced against the desk, his eyes lingering on yours, daring you to break the moment first. You didn’t.
“That’s enough,” Coach Suh said sharply, his voice slicing through the tension like a blade. He leaned forward, placing a hand on the notes Jeno had carelessly tossed onto his desk, his eyes narrowing. “Y/N’s work isn’t just about pointing out flaws, Jeno. It’s about understanding how we can work as a team. You’d do well to listen. Right now, your attitude is one of the biggest problems this team has. If you’re so determined to be involved, start by proving you’re part of the solution instead of the reason we need one.”
Jeno didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as his gaze flickered briefly to Coach Suh. But the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease; if anything, it seemed to coil tighter. Slowly, his eyes slid back to you, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though every breath in the room had been sucked away. He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair, his lips curling into a smirk that wasn’t amusement—it was provocation, sharp and deliberate.
Coach Suh’s eyes moved between the two of you, his tone now laced with warning. “If you’re both finished,” he said, his voice low but firm, “we still have a meeting to conduct. I suggest we get back to it before this spirals into something that becomes out of control.”
You straightened in your seat, shifting your focus back to Coach Suh with as much composure as you could muster. But the energy in the room didn’t dissipate. Jeno didn’t leave, didn’t even shift far from where he sat, his presence as heavy as a storm cloud on the horizon. His hand remained braced against the desk, his posture deceptively casual, though his gaze stayed locked on you for just a second too long before he finally leaned back further into his chair.
Even as you resumed explaining the next phase of your project, detailing your observations and plans with measured clarity, you could feel his eyes lingering on you, dark and calculating. It wasn’t over—not by a long shot. Whatever reason he had for staying, it wasn’t just to listen, and the weight of his unspoken motive hung between you like a challenge you couldn’t yet name.
Coach Suh leaned back slightly, his arms folding across his chest as his gaze flicked between you and Jeno. “Alright, Y/N. For this project, I assume you’ll need direct input from the team. Have you decided who you’d like to work with?”
You straightened in your chair, calm and collected, though the weight of Jeno’s stare was impossible to ignore. Your fingers brushed the edge of your notebook as you replied, your tone measured. “Jaemin. He’s reliable, and I think his dynamics will give me a well-rounded perspective.”
The creak of Jeno’s chair pulled your attention despite yourself. He leaned forward, his elbow braced against the desk, and his voice broke through with a forced casualness that was anything but. “That’s it? No room for the captain?”
Your gaze didn’t waver from Coach Suh, your expression neutral. “I’ve already made my choice,” you said smoothly. “But thank you for your interest.”
Jeno’s response was instant, his voice dipping lower as he said, “I wasn’t asking.” The sharpness in his words made your shoulders tense. You turned to him, meeting his unyielding gaze head-on. His eyes locked on yours, dark and intent. “If you’re going to be watching us, writing about us, you’ll need the full picture. And last I checked, I’m the one leading this team.”
“Last I checked,” you countered, your voice cooling with every syllable, “I choose who contributes to my project.”
Coach Suh cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tension like a blade. His expression was neutral, but there was a finality to his tone. “Jeno has a point. As team captain, his perspective could be valuable.”
You pressed your lips together, the frustration curling tight in your chest. “That’s not necessary,” you replied, turning your attention back to the coach. “I’m more than capable of getting what I need without his… input.”
Jeno leaned back then, his smirk infuriatingly smug, like he’d already won something you didn’t know was a competition. “Guess you’ll have to deal with it anyway,” he said, his tone smooth, almost lazy, but with an undercurrent sharp enough to cut. “Because I’m joining.”
You didn’t look at him right away, your fingers tightening briefly on the edge of the desk. When you did turn, the weight of his gaze slammed into you, dark and unyielding, daring you to challenge him. “You don’t get to decide that,” you said, your tone measured but edged, like the calm before a storm. “I don’t need you. I’ve already decided.”
His smirk deepened, the curve of his lips sharp, deliberate, as his eyes darkened with something unreadable. “And you think I care?” he said, his voice low, edging closer as he leaned forward. The weight of him pressed into the space between you, suffocating and electric. “You’re picking apart my team, pulling us apart like we’re an experiment, and you thought you could leave me out of it?”
“This isn’t your project,” you shot back, turning to meet his gaze head-on, the heat between you immediate and suffocating. “It’s mine. And frankly, I don’t need your temper or your control issues derailing it.”
His smirk vanished, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous. “Control issues?” he repeated, his voice almost a growl. “You’re writing a whole damn thesis on me, and I’m the one with control issues?”
You leaned back slightly, crossing your arms as you let out a sharp laugh. “You have nothing to give me,” you said flatly. “I need something useful, not someone wasting my time.”
The shift was subtle but immediate. Jeno straightened slightly, his hand pressing against the desk, his fingers brushing dangerously close to yours. “You don’t think you’ll get what you need from me?” he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse skip. “Or are you just afraid you’ll get more than you bargained for?”
Your stomach twisted, a flicker of heat rushing through you that you shoved aside. “I’m not afraid of you, Jeno,” you said coolly, meeting his gaze head-on. “But I’m not interested in indulging whatever game you think this is.”
“Enough,” Coach Suh’s voice cut through, sharp and commanding, slicing through the tension like a blade. Both of you turned to him, the weight of his authority undeniable. His gaze shifted from you to Jeno, lingering on the latter with a look that was more judgment than approval. “Jeno, you’re joining this project.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but Coach Suh held up a hand, cutting you off with a firm gesture. “This isn’t negotiable,” he said, his tone steady but sharp. His gaze shifted to Jeno, his words deliberate and cutting. “Your behavior on the court has been affecting the team. I want to see you take accountability, and this project is an opportunity for you to reflect and improve.”
He cleared his throat, the sound slicing through the tension lingering between the three of you. “And let me make one thing clear, Jeno—if you’re not on board with this, I have no problem benching you for the next game. That includes the second half of the season if necessary.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, quieting the unease that had begun to stir in the small office.
“Sure,” Jeno said, leaning back slightly, his tone casual and annoyingly smug. “Whatever you say, Coach. I’m in.”
Jeno’s gaze flicked to you, his smirk widening as if he knew exactly how much his compliance had thrown you off. “Guess you’ve got your player,” he added smoothly, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm. “Should be fun.”
You blinked, struggling to process his reaction, the calm exterior you tried so hard to maintain now wavering. “This is ridiculous,” you said finally, turning to Coach Suh, your voice tight with frustration. “He’s just going to disrupt everything.”
“That’s on you to manage,” Coach Suh replied, his tone measured but firm. “And Jeno—don’t think for a second this means you get to coast through this. You’ll contribute, or there will be consequences.”
“Gladly,” Jeno said, his voice smooth and dripping with taunt. His eyes stayed fixed on you, sharp and unwavering, the satisfaction in his tone curling through the air like smoke. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”
You clenched your jaw, swallowing the retort that burned on the edge of your tongue. Your fingers brushed over the edges of your notes, the motion brisk and deliberate as you redirected your focus to the desk in front of you. “Guess we’re going to be spending a lot of time together,” Jeno murmured, his words quiet, but laced with amusement that grated against your composure. His tone was low, meant only for you, and it crawled under your skin.
You didn’t look at him again, forcing your eyes to remain locked on Coach Suh as he resumed speaking. But Jeno’s presence wasn’t something you could simply ignore—it lingered, pressing down on you with an unspoken challenge. It was a storm you could feel building, relentless and impossible to escape.
Jeno’s lips curled into a slow, smug smile, a rare, genuine satisfaction lighting up his features as Coach Suh confirmed he’d be your partner. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it lingered—a quiet triumph glinting in his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, stretching an arm over the backrest like he’d already won something, and his gaze flickered to you. But you didn’t notice, too busy jotting notes to catch the shift in his demeanor.
Internally, he was calculating, already deciding how he’d spin this situation to his advantage. You were observant, sure—annoyingly so—but if he could steer your attention away from assessing him, focus it elsewhere, maybe even use your diligence to his benefit, he could get through this project unscathed. After all, it was just another game, and Jeno had always been good at playing the game.
Yet beneath that smugness, Jeno was fuming. He’d never intended to actually participate in your project; his goal had simply been to annoy you and shift your focus. Now, he was stuck, and the idea of spending more time with you—dealing with your sharp tongue and infuriating composure—was already grating on him. And still, there was something there, a flicker of something he refused to name, let alone acknowledge. A part of him—small but persistent—was intrigued by you. You weren’t like anyone else he knew. You didn’t crumble under his presence or fawn over his charm like others did. Instead, you stood your ground, matching his fire with your own sharp edges, and somehow always managing to get the last word.
It was maddening, frustrating in a way he couldn’t quite place, but it was also addictive. The way you carried yourself, the way you didn’t fold under the weight of his reputation or his attempts to push your buttons, only made you more fascinating. It wasn’t attraction—not exactly—but it was something close enough to unsettle him.
Jeno’s smile lingered, masking the whirlwind of conflicting thoughts beneath. He thought he’d won this round, that he’d managed to take control of the situation. But there was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, one he stubbornly ignored. He didn’t realize yet how wrong he was. This wasn’t a game he was prepared to lose. And with you, losing might not even be the worst outcome. You were already a step ahead, even if he couldn’t see it yet.
The hallway outside Coach Suh’s office was eerily quiet as you stepped out, the door clicking shut behind you. The air felt heavier somehow, the tension from the meeting lingering like a shadow pressing against your chest. Your pulse still raced, the leftover adrenaline making it hard to focus as you tried to replay the exchange in your head. Relief flickered at the edges, but it was overpowered by frustration—the way Coach Suh’s finality had left no room for argument, and the way the entire conversation had left you feeling unsteady. You rubbed at your temples, exhaling slowly, trying to regain some semblance of calm as you moved down the dimly lit hallway.
The faint hum of the overhead lights gave way to the distant sounds of the campus at night as you made your way toward the parking lot. Your steps felt heavier than usual, each one a reminder of the tangled emotions clawing at your chest—irritation at the unresolved tension, a reluctant satisfaction that the meeting was over, and a quiet unease at what lay ahead.
Near the line of cars, you spotted them—Mark and Yangyang—waiting just outside, leaning against a lamppost. Yangyang scrolled idly on his phone, his face illuminated by the blue light, while Mark stood with his arms crossed, his head lifting as he caught sight of you. The sight of them caught you off guard, and you hesitated, blinking in surprise.
“Finally,” Yangyang said, grinning as he slipped his phone into his pocket. Mark gave you a small nod, his expression neutral but his presence grounding.
“You shouldn’t have waited,” you said, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder. Your tone came out softer than you intended, touched by the unexpected warmth of their gesture.
“It’s late, and you don’t drive,” Yangyang replied with a shrug, as if the decision was obvious.
“Ouch,” you muttered, your lips twitching into a faint smile. Yangyang chuckled, the sound light and teasing, and even Mark’s lips curved slightly at your reaction.
Mark pushed off the lamppost, his arms uncrossing as he approached you. “You okay? How’d it go in there?” he asked, his voice low but warm.
His words hit you harder than expected, the genuine concern behind them making it difficult to mask the lingering tension in your chest. You paused, gripping the strap of your bag tightly before finally meeting his gaze. “It went…” you started, but the words felt insufficient. You let out a breath, shaking your head slightly. “It’s fine. Just tense. You know how these things are.”
Mark’s eyes narrowed slightly, his concern shifting into something more thoughtful. “You sure? You seem… off.”
You hesitated, the weight of the meeting still pressing against your ribs. “I’m fine,” you said again, but your voice lacked conviction. The truth was, you weren’t sure how you felt—relieved, frustrated, and somewhere in between. And from the way Mark’s gaze lingered, you knew he wasn’t convinced either.
“I know something that can cheer you up,” Mark said after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than Yangyang’s teasing tone. “The group’s at that food place near the river court. Figured we’d wait and head over together.”
Your stomach growled loudly, cutting through the moment and making Yangyang snicker. “Sounds like someone’s ready to eat.”
A soft laugh escaped you, the tension in your chest loosening slightly. “Guess I am,” you admitted, your lips curving into a genuine smile. Mark smiled back, and Yangyang gave a mock bow, gesturing for you to lead the way.
And then you felt it—that shift, subtle but undeniable, like the air had thickened around you. Your steps faltered for a fraction of a second, the sound of Yangyang’s teasing fading into the background as your senses honed in on something—or someone.
And there he was.
Jeno stood beside his car, its sleek, dark frame glinting faintly under the glow of the streetlight, half shrouded in shadow. The contrast between his vehicle and Mark’s couldn’t have been starker—Mark’s car, parked just a few feet away, was practical, unassuming, and a little rough around the edges, while Jeno’s looked every bit the luxury statement it was meant to be. His stance matched his car’s energy: effortless, confident, yet inherently confrontational. One arm rested on the car’s roof, his fingers tapping idly against the polished surface, while his other hand hung loosely by his side. The shadows played tricks across his face, obscuring parts of him but never dulling the sharp intensity in his gaze. He wasn’t trying to hide his focus; his eyes followed you as you stepped closer, flicking to Mark just briefly before settling on you again, deliberate and unrelenting.
The space felt charged, and as the three of you approached, the unspoken weight of Jeno’s presence drew a tension so palpable it made Yangyang glance your way, his grin faltering slightly. “What’s his deal?” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for you and Mark to hear.
Mark’s posture stiffened beside you, his gaze narrowing as it locked on Jeno. The tension between them was immediate, the air thickening as Jeno shifted just slightly, his movements slow, calculated. His lips curled into the faintest smirk, the kind that barely reached his eyes but still managed to drip with something darker than amusement.
“Something on your mind?” Mark finally asked, his voice low, steady, but carrying the weight of a challenge. He took a subtle step forward, his body angling slightly in front of yours as if anticipating what was coming.
Jeno let out a quiet laugh, pushing off the side of his car and taking a single step closer, his movements deliberate. “Just appreciating the view,” he said smoothly, his gaze sliding from Mark to you, lingering just long enough to make the statement feel personal. His tone was light, but the tension behind it was anything but.
The contrast between them was striking—Mark’s controlled resolve against Jeno’s unsettling ease, his presence like a shadow that refused to be ignored. The difference in their cars felt like an extension of their unspoken rivalry, a visual reminder of the tension simmering between them now.
Jeno’s lips curved slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. The satisfaction in his expression was undeniable. Smug. That was the word. Smug, because he’d forced his way into your project. Smug, because you’d have to deal with him now, day after day, night after night. Smug, because he knew what you didn’t want to admit—that proximity could be dangerous. And yet, there was something darker behind his satisfaction, something aimed squarely at Mark. For Jeno, this wasn’t just about the project. It wasn’t even about you, not entirely. It was about Mark.
Mark had taken something from him. Stolen it. His place on the team, the spotlight, and the validation that should have been Jeno’s. As far as Jeno was concerned, Mark hadn’t paid the price for stepping into a life he had no business claiming. Their rivalry was born in moments like this, where the weight of their shared history loomed like a storm cloud. Two brothers who were never really brothers, whose lives had only become more entangled as time dragged them into each other’s orbit. Jeno resented every inch of it, every loss that he blamed on Mark’s presence. This project? It was leverage, another weapon in his arsenal, another way to prove that Mark didn’t belong.
Mark had a hard time holding back—always had, but especially when it came to Jeno. The tension between them was palpable the moment you stepped outside. You caught it in the subtle way Mark’s body stiffened, his shoulders squaring as though bracing for a hit. Yangyang, who had been leaning casually against Mark’s car, noticed the change immediately. “Here we go…” he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with exasperation as he straightened, his easy demeanor fading in an instant.
“What are you doing here?” Mark’s voice was calm but edged with steel as he stepped closer, subtly angling himself between you and Jeno. Protective, as always.
Jeno pushed off his car, his smirk widening into something razor-sharp. “Just making sure Y/N got out of her meeting alright,” he said, his tone drenched in mock concern. “Didn’t realize she had an entourage.”
“She doesn’t need you to make sure of anything,” Mark shot back, his jaw tightening as his patience thinned.
Jeno’s eyes flicked toward you briefly, his smirk deepening before he turned back to Mark. “Doesn’t seem like she needs you either,” he said, the words delivered with surgical precision, designed to hit where it hurt. His voice carried something darker—possessive, taunting, a deliberate dig.
Mark stepped forward, his voice dropping. “Why don’t you say what you really mean?”
Jeno didn’t hesitate. His smirk sharpened into something cruel as he met Mark’s glare head-on. “Alright,” he said, his voice smooth, low, and cutting. “You’ve been pretending like you belong here, acting like you’re on my level, but we both know the truth. You don’t belong on this team. You’ve never belonged and I’m not about to let you get in my way.”
Yangyang shifted uncomfortably, his hand brushing Mark’s arm in a futile attempt to defuse the tension. “Guys, seriously, this is—”
“Stay out of it,” Mark snapped, shrugging Yangyang off without breaking eye contact with Jeno. His voice was taut, sharp-edged, and his body moved instinctively closer to Jeno’s, drawn in by the confrontation. “You don’t get to decide that.”
Jeno’s head tilted, his smirk darkening as he met Mark’s glare. “Don’t I?” he said, his tone low, deliberate. “Let’s not pretend, Mark. You’re just holding a spot—taking up space that’s not yours.”
Mark’s jaw tightened as Jeno took another deliberate step closer, the air between them heavy with tension. “What’s your problem, Jeno? You can’t stand not being the center of attention for five minutes?” His words were sharp, anger cutting through the controlled tone he tried to maintain.
Jeno tilted his head, his smirk turning colder, crueler. “Center of attention?” he repeated mockingly, his voice smooth but layered with disdain. Then, without warning, his focus shifted, his gaze boring into Mark’s with a sharper intent. “You know, you’ve never mattered to him.” His voice dropped lower, heavier, carrying a weight designed to hit its mark. “He’s never spoken about you. Not once. Not even your name.” Jeno leaned in just enough to make Mark stiffen, the movement deliberate, calculated. “You don’t exist to him, Mark. And you never will.”
Mark’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles whitening as he absorbed Jeno’s words. The tension in his jaw was visible now, his teeth gritting against the weight of what had just been said. His breath hitched, just for a second, before his eyes snapped back to Jeno’s, blazing with something that burned hotter than anger.
“You don’t get to talk about that,” Mark said, his voice low, strained, but steady. Each word came out like it was pulled through glass, sharp and deliberate. “You think you know everything? You think this is some kind of game?” His body shifted forward, stepping into Jeno’s space, the distance between them evaporating. “You can keep running your mouth, Jeno. Keep throwing shit around like it’s going to break me. But we both know the only reason you’re standing here is because you can’t stand what’s already broken in you.”
The tension crackled, heavy and suffocating, as Yangyang hovered nearby, his eyes darting nervously between the two of them. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, holding up his hands as if to defuse the situation. “Can we just—”
“Meet me at the river court,” Mark cut in, his voice slicing through Yangyang’s attempt at peace. The challenge in his tone was unmistakable, as was the fire in his eyes. “Let’s settle this.”
Jeno blinked, his expression blank for a split second before a slow, calculating smile spread across his face. He took another step forward, his presence looming as his gaze bore into Mark’s. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice quieter now but loaded with implication.
“More than you’ll ever be,” Mark shot back, not flinching under the weight of Jeno’s stare.
Yangyang groaned audibly, running a hand down his face. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, but neither of them paid him any attention.
You didn’t step in. You should have—your better judgment whispered it, but something deeper, something darker, kept you rooted. They were two forces destined to collide, and for reasons you couldn’t fully articulate, you let it happen. Let them tear into each other. Let the tension explode. It wasn’t indecision; it was deliberate. Their words were knives, flung with precision, cutting through the air as you stayed silent. Perhaps it was frustration, a morbid curiosity, or the flicker of something more unsettling—an unspoken desire to watch the chaos unravel, to see who would break first. Whatever it was, you didn’t stop them. You simply watched, a quiet conductor letting the storm play its symphony.
Jeno’s smile lingered as he finally stepped back, his hands slipping into his pockets with an air of smug satisfaction. “Don’t be late,” he said, his voice deceptively light, before turning on his heel and walking to his car. Even as he walked away, the weight of his presence clung to the air, heavy and suffocating, a shadow you couldn’t quite shake.
The rumble of his engine broke the silence, low and menacing as his car pulled out of the lot. His taillights disappeared into the dark, but the tension he left behind didn’t fade.
Mark was still. His shoulders, rigid moments ago, slackened slightly, but his silence spoke louder than any words could. You watched him from the corner of your eye, waiting for him to move, to speak, but he didn’t—not at first.
Finally, he turned to you, his expression steady but his eyes searching, holding a weight you hadn’t seen before. “Do you think this is a good idea?” he asked quietly, his voice low and deliberate. “Should I even go through with this?”
You met his gaze, the answer forming before you even had to think about it. “Destroy him,” you said simply, your voice unwavering.
Mark didn’t hesitate. He nodded once, his jaw tightening as if the words solidified something in him.
Yangyang groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he stepped back, frustration evident in the sharp exhale that followed. He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, shaking his head as though resigning himself to the inevitable. Without another word, he fell in line behind you and Mark, his footsteps slower but steady, trailing as the three of you made your way to the car.
The river court buzzed with energy as you arrived, the kind of energy that prickled against your skin and made the air heavier, like it was bracing for what was to come. The sky hung low in a muted purple, dusk casting a hazy glow over the cracked pavement. The court was worn but alive, its faded lines and chipped concrete bearing witness to years of games that were more than games—rivalries fought and friendships forged under the open sky. Just beyond the court, the river flowed steadily, its rushing sound threading through the air like a heartbeat, a constant reminder that time moved forward, even when everything here felt suspended. The streetlights flickered reluctantly to life, their uneven glow spilling across the edges of the court and stretching the shadows of the gathering crowd into long, distorted shapes.
The court wasn’t just a place. For you, it held a kind of familiarity that was hard to explain but impossible to ignore. You’d been here before—countless times. Not as a player, but as a spectator, a supporter, someone who had seen it in every light and weather. Late summer evenings, where the sun dipped low, casting orange streaks across the river’s surface, and the games ran long into the night. Damp mornings, when the court was slick from rain but still drew in the faithful who didn’t care about getting their shoes wet. You remembered the laughter that echoed here, the sound of sneakers skidding on concrete, and the rare moments of silence, when the outcome of a game hung in the balance, everyone holding their breath.
It wasn’t just a court; it was its own world, separate from the polished gyms and structured arenas. It was raw, gritty, and completely unforgiving—a place where there were no refs, no rules, only pride and skill. For you, it was also a place of memories, fleeting but vivid. The times you stood on the sidelines with your friends, sharing snacks and commentary, your voices carrying over the court. The way the river glimmered in the background, a backdrop to so many moments that felt small then but monumental now.
It was where you learned to read people—the way their body language shifted, how tension seeped into a game before the first shot was even made. Watching those games, you’d started piecing together what made people tick: the subtle shifts of insecurity masked as arrogance, the way rivalries simmered beneath seemingly friendly smiles. You didn’t know it then, but those countless hours spent as a quiet observer shaped how you moved through the world now—calculating, precise, always looking for the things unsaid. The river court wasn’t just familiar ground; it was where your instincts sharpened, where you learned that every move, every glance, carried weight. And tonight, as you stood on that same cracked pavement, it felt like the court was daring you to see it all again.
Tonight, it didn’t feel like the same court, though. The tension in the air was almost physical, clinging to your skin like the humidity of an oncoming storm. It wasn’t just a game tonight. The stakes, the crowd, the undercurrent of emotion—it felt like the river court itself had absorbed all of it, as if the cracked pavement carried the weight of what was about to unfold. This wasn’t just about basketball; it was about something deeper, darker, more personal. You could feel it in the way the crowd shifted, their voices louder but more uncertain, and in the way the court seemed to hum, as if it, too, was waiting for the storm to break.
Mark pulled up first, his car’s headlights cutting through the fading twilight. He stepped out with a quiet sort of confidence, his movements deliberate, his face composed but taut. He didn’t need theatrics to announce himself; his presence alone spoke volumes. Your friends had left their food and the warmth of their plans to be here, standing with Mark. They didn’t agree with this conflict—most of them thought he should’ve walked away—but their loyalty was steadfast. That was the thing about Mark’s side: smaller, quieter, but unwaveringly close-knit. Their warmth was palpable, a sharp contrast to the restless crowd gathering for Jeno.
And then came Jeno.
He pulled up late, as expected, his sleek, polished car skidding to a halt and kicking up gravel. The gleaming vehicle, pristine and out of place, clashed against the gritty, weathered backdrop of the river court. He moved with an aggression that mirrored the tension building for days, slamming the car door shut as his group of friends—Jaemin, San, Wooyoung—spilled out behind him. They carried themselves with the same air of superiority, the confidence of boys who thought the world was their playground. But it wasn’t them who caught your eye. It was Jeno’s girlfriend, Areum.
Areum followed behind, her expression tight, her posture stiff, moving with the kind of tension that couldn’t be disguised under the polished image she and Jeno projected. This is what they are. Jeno and Areum aren’t just well-known—they’re desired. They’re the kind of couple people talk about, whispering behind their backs, dissecting their every move. People want to be them or be with them. You’ve seen it—the way eyes linger on them too long, filled with envy and something darker. It’s intoxicating, the kind of attention that uplifts, seduces, makes them untouchable in the eyes of everyone watching. But it doesn’t fool you. They can’t fool you.
Areum didn’t cling to Jeno, didn’t move with the ease of someone who felt at home in his orbit. Their relationship was strange—polished on the outside, like a perfect photograph, but hollow where it mattered. They didn’t touch, didn’t exchange glances, and the space between them spoke volumes. You’d noticed it before, the way Areum often felt more like an accessory to Jeno than an equal. Tonight, though, the cracks in their facade felt deeper, the distance between them more glaring, like even the weight of this night couldn’t pull them closer.
You glanced around. Karina was here too, along with a mix of people who didn’t belong—girls batting their lashes at Jeno, boys who barely knew the river court but wanted to bask in the chaos. And then there were the eyes. You felt them, sharp and lingering, their gazes flitting between you, Mark, Jeno, and Areum. They wanted to see you all fall apart, to dissect the tension.
The stark differences between the two sides were impossible to miss. Jeno’s supporters were bigger in number, louder, their voices already filling the space with jeers and taunts. Most of them weren’t even familiar faces, people who had never stepped foot on the river court before. They were just here for the spectacle, drawn in by the promise of drama. Even some of the Seoul Ravens were here—guys who wouldn’t normally be caught dead on this cracked pavement. The river court wasn’t theirs. It wasn’t shaped by them, and they weren’t shaped by it.
Mark’s side was smaller, quieter, but there was a warmth to it, a solidarity that made you feel grounded despite the tension swirling around. Jeno thrived in moments like these, you knew. He lived for the attention, the validation of the crowd. Mark, on the other hand, didn’t need it. He wasn’t here for the spectacle; he was here for himself, for something more meaningful.
The air at the river court was electric, anticipation buzzing through the crowd like static. You stood by the sidelines, arms crossed, watching as Donghyuck stepped forward with a mix of confidence and unease. His eyes flicked to the unfamiliar faces lining the court, a far cry from the usual crowd. The tension in his posture betrayed him, but when he spoke, his voice was smooth, lighthearted, masking the unease.
“Welcome to the river court showdown!” Donghyuck’s voice carried a steady confidence, though the way his gaze darted between Mark and Jeno betrayed his unease. “Tonight, we’ve got a clash of brothers—Mark Lee, the underdog with everything to gain, and Lee Jeno, the Seoul Ravens’ star point guard, the player who’s built his reputation on moments like this. The stakes? As high as they’ve ever been.”
The crowd buzzed with anticipation as Mark grabbed the ball, his movements smooth and composed. He turned it between his fingers, his gaze calm and focused, a quiet intensity radiating from him. Without breaking his focus, he passed the ball to Jeno, the exchange seamless but loaded with tension. Jeno caught it and slammed it into the pavement, the sound slicing through the murmurs like a challenge. His stance was coiled, every movement sharp, deliberate, and charged with aggression. Where Mark’s focus was inward, controlled, Jeno’s energy spilled over, his eyes scanning the crowd with a smirk, feeding off their attention like fuel. They were night and day—one steady and resolute, the other bristling with raw, unrelenting force.
Donghyuck continued, his voice steadying as he found his rhythm. “On one side, we’ve got Jeno—fast, sharp, a force to be reckoned with. On the other, Mark—focused, precise, with everything to lose.”
You glanced at your friends. Their support for Mark was unshakable, but the nervous energy was palpable. Yangyang shifted on his feet, biting his lip, while Hyeju whispered something to Shotaro, her expression tense. Chenle, standing just behind them, crossed his arms and let out a low whistle, a habit he had when trying to steady himself. You, however, felt none of it. Doubt had no place here—not when it came to Mark. The quiet determination in his eyes didn’t need to be loud or flashy to make its point. You’d seen it before, how he moved in this space like it was built for him, how his focus cut through everything else. This wasn’t just a game—it was Mark in his purest form, and there was no scenario in your mind where he didn’t own it.
Mark dribbled the ball to center court, his movements fluid, every step deliberate, the rhythm of the ball hitting the pavement steady and composed. Jeno shadowed him, his stance wide, his body coiled with tension and energy that seemed ready to snap. The whistle cut through the air, sharp and commanding, and Donghyuck’s voice followed, light but laced with gravity. “And here we go—Mark Lee, steady as ever, playing like the court’s an extension of him. Lee Jeno, the Ravens’ star, all fire and precision, ready to remind everyone why he’s the name they chant. This one’s going to get heated, folks.”
The match was unrelenting, a clash of tension that seemed to ripple through the court itself. Jeno was all motion, fast and volatile, his movements a blur of power and precision. Every dribble was sharp, every step purposeful, and his trash talk was a weapon, thrown out with the confidence of someone who’d never needed to doubt his place. “You don’t belong here, Mark. This isn’t your world.” His voice cut through the crowd, loud enough to leave no question of its target.
Mark didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. His silence wasn’t passive; it was deliberate, like he was saving his energy for something that actually mattered. But when Jeno closed in, his taunts like sparks looking for fuel, Mark finally answered. “If it’s not my world,” he said, his voice low but clear, “what are you doing here?” The words weren’t meant for the crowd; they were for Jeno, deliberate and heavy, slicing through the air with quiet authority. It wasn’t a question. It was an indictment.
You didn’t just watch the game—you studied it. Mark moved with a precision that wasn’t flashy, but it made you proud, a quiet reminder of why you’d always believed in him. His shots didn’t just land; they cut through the tension, crisp and clean, like a scalpel finding its mark. Jeno, on the other hand, burned too hot, his aggression almost feral, every step brimming with intensity that verged on desperation. But Mark’s game wasn’t reactionary. He wasn’t here to prove Jeno wrong; he was here to prove something to himself. And watching it unfold, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of what this moment meant—not just for them, but for the quiet battle of identities this court had come to represent.
Donghyuck’s voice carried over the court. “Mark with the shot—nothing but net!” His tone was lively, carrying the energy of the crowd but none of the surprise. Unlike the murmurs rippling through Jeno’s side, Donghyuck didn’t sound shocked—why would he be? This was Mark, and anyone who truly knew him understood this wasn’t luck. It was skill, honed and steady, the kind of precision Donghyuck had seen countless times before.
Jeno’s frustration was impossible to miss. His movements grew sharper, more frantic, his dribbles louder, as though he could force the game back into his control. His shots, once fluid and automatic, began to falter, each miss tightening the tension in the air. But Mark didn’t rise to the bait. He didn’t look at Jeno, didn’t acknowledge the taunts or the growing desperation. This wasn’t about outplaying Jeno—it was about playing his own game, proving to himself that he could stand tall here, on his court.
You saw it all happen in what felt like slow motion—the perfect arc of Jeno’s shot, the way the ball seemed destined to slice through the net and shift the momentum in his favor. But then there was Mark, moving with a speed and precision that made it seem as though he’d read Jeno’s mind. He leapt, arm outstretched, and the slap of his hand against the ball reverberated through the court like a firecracker, louder and sharper than any cheer. The ball flew out of bounds, scattering the tension like shrapnel, and the crowd erupted.
Donghyuck’s voice cut through the chaos, his tone brimming with excitement. “Jeno shoots… and misses!” He paused, his disbelief almost theatrical as he added, “Holy crap, did you see that? Someday men will write stories about that block, children will be named after that block, and Argentinian women will weep for it!”
This wasn’t like any game you’d ever watched before. It wasn’t just basketball—it was something raw and alive, every second steeped in stakes that went beyond points on a scoreboard. And yet, as the cheers echoed and your chest tightened with pride, you couldn’t help but feel like this moment belonged to Mark. His focus, his determination, his refusal to bend to the pressure—it wasn’t just impressive, it was something more. You didn’t just feel proud—you felt certain. Certain that this court, this game, this moment, was his.
“Mark with the rebound. He’s fast. He’s focused.” Donghyuck’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and clear, as Mark’s movements were steady, deliberate, and unrelenting as he drove toward the hoop. Jeno was on him, aggressive and desperate, but Mark didn’t falter. Each dribble was purposeful, each step a quiet display of control that left no room for doubt. The court seemed to shrink around them, every sound fading except for the rhythmic echo of the ball hitting the pavement. When Mark reached the edge of the key, he paused just long enough to find his opening. Then, with a quick shift, the ball left his hands in a clean arc that felt inevitable, as though the basket had already accepted it.
The sound of the ball snapping through the net was sharp, definitive, and the crowd erupted a moment later, the realization crashing over them. “And that’s it! Mark Lee wins!” Donghyuck’s voice rang out, full of triumph, his words slicing through the noise like a declaration.
The celebration that followed was instant and chaotic. Mark’s friends surged onto the court, their shouts of excitement filling the air. Yangyang nearly tackled him, laughter spilling out as Nahyun and Shotaro cheered wildly from the sidelines. Chenle was the loudest of them all, his voice carrying over the chaos as he jumped up and down, grinning like he’d won the game himself. You stayed back, the chaos of the celebration folding into the background as your focus sharpened on Mark—not the noise, not the others, but him.
His posture shifted, shoulders easing with relief rather than triumph, the subtle curve of his mouth acknowledging the moment without boasting. Every movement was deliberate, as though the victory wasn’t for anyone but himself. When his gaze swept over the crowd, it lingered briefly, grounding him, marking the moment as his own—not for dominance, but as someone reclaiming what had been taken. This wasn’t just a win over Jeno; it was a quiet, resolute statement that he belonged here. You saw it in the way he carried himself—a transformation so understated most wouldn’t notice, but you did.
You lingered at the edge of the chaos, an observer rather than a participant, fingers brushing the pen in your pocket as you replayed the details in your mind. The celebration faded into irrelevance—noise and emotion held no value compared to the mechanics of what unfolded before you. From a distance, you watched Mark, dissecting the subtle shifts in his posture, the small, deliberate adjustments that spoke volumes. His shoulders eased—not in triumph, but in something quieter, more personal, like relief settling into his frame. The faint curve of his mouth wasn’t a smile; it was a fleeting acknowledgment meant for no one but himself. His gaze swept the crowd, steady and deliberate, cataloging rather than basking, grounding him in something inward. You made mental notes, knowing they would translate later into the project you’d dedicated yourself to—the study of body language under pressure, the unspoken truths told through movement. Each step he took, controlled and methodical, fit into your need to understand, to deconstruct moments like this. You weren’t pulled by the celebration but by the precision of it all, the quiet reclamation in his stance, every shift etched in your mind with the meticulousness you pride yourself on.
But there was something else—something you hadn’t expected. Mark was the center now. The shift was sudden, almost jarring, as if the court itself had realigned its axis around him. Those on Jeno’s side—the people who moments ago were silent in defeat—found themselves glancing at Mark, as though he had somehow claimed not just the game but the space itself. He was the orbit, drawing everyone into his pull with a quiet, understated power that felt impossible to resist. You caught Areum’s gaze lingering on him, her expression unreadable, like she was seeing him in a new light. Karina and the other cheerleaders stood off to the side, biting their lips and batting their lashes, their attention clearly fixated on Mark in a way that was hard to ignore. It was subtle but palpable, a whiplash moment where you realized the court wasn’t just his stage anymore; it was his world.
Your friends’ voices called out your name, cutting through the still noise in your head, but you didn’t turn. You stayed where you were, still and unmoving, rooted at the edge of the celebration. The chaos behind you rolled on—cheers, laughter, movement—but it didn’t pull you in. You weren’t drawn to the noise or the excitement. Instead, your focus lingered on the quieter details, the things others wouldn’t notice. The court felt different now, smaller somehow, as if the space itself carried the weight of what had just happened. It wasn’t that you didn’t care—it was that you cared differently, drawn to the stillness and the meaning left behind after the noise had passed.
But then, something shifted. At first, you barely noticed it, just a flicker on the edge of your awareness—a break in the background noise you’d trained yourself to filter out. You stayed rooted, clinging to the stillness you’d worked so hard to maintain, your focus steady on the court and the aftermath it carried. Yet, an unfamiliar tension crept in, threading its way into your calm. It wasn’t immediate, wasn’t sudden, but like a weight pressing slowly against the edges of your mind, demanding attention you didn’t want to give.
Your senses betrayed you first. A pulse of awareness tugged at your periphery, pulling your focus away from the grounded silence you depended on. You resisted, tried to bury it under the usual steady rhythm of observation, but it was there—persistent, undeniable. Your gaze wavered, almost imperceptibly, before landing on him. Jeno. He was still, rigid, his frame holding a tension that rippled outward like an unseen force. He stood apart, fists tight at his sides, his jaw locked so firmly you could feel the strain even from here.
You told yourself to file it away, to make it part of the project. The mechanics of his stance, the stillness of his form—details to catalog, nothing more. But even as you tried to frame it that way, your thoughts began to fracture. Your gaze lingered too long, no longer following patterns or posture but drawn by something deeper, something that wasn’t supposed to matter. For all his confidence, all the ease with which he usually commanded attention, it was gone—replaced by something raw, something exposed.
You tried to force your thoughts back into order, to rebuild the detachment that had always come so naturally to you. But with every passing moment, the calm you clung to unraveled further. Your eyes betrayed you completely now, tracking the way he stood as though tethered to the court, refusing to move. It wasn’t anger, not entirely. It was something heavier, something that held you in place just as much as it held him.
No one—not your friends, not anyone—had ever drawn your attention away from the steady rhythm of your thoughts, the meticulous focus that always kept you grounded and apart. But Jeno did. His presence reached into that protected space and shattered it, scattering your carefully constructed thoughts until they spiraled in ways you couldn’t control. He hadn’t even looked at you directly, but he didn’t need to. The weight of him was enough—suffocating, consuming, like an unspoken command pressing into the air between you.
You should have stayed rooted in Mark’s win, let Jeno’s loss be a quiet, satisfying afterthought. But the way he stood, so still yet so loud in his silence, wouldn’t let you. His figure was unyielding, locked in place as though the loss itself hadn’t finished with him. He didn’t turn to his friends, didn’t shrug it off, didn’t hide the cracks the way he always had before. He just stood there, unshaken by the noise around him, yet radiating something that made it impossible for you to look away. He wasn’t just in the moment—he was the moment, consuming it, distorting it, and pulling you further from yourself with every second that passed.
You didn’t understand why you couldn’t look away, why the weight of Jeno’s stillness seemed to press against you like gravity. Was it empathy? The thought felt foreign, almost laughable—you weren’t the kind to feel for someone like him, someone who wore his arrogance like armor. Maybe it was curiosity, a morbid fascination with the cracks in his composure, the way someone so sure of himself could falter so completely. But even that didn’t sit right, because it wasn’t just curiosity—it was something heavier, something that twisted uncomfortably in your chest.
Around him, the court began to empty, the crowd thinning as people drifted toward their cars, their voices hushed, their energy subdued. A few lingered at the edges, stealing glances at Jeno but saying nothing, and even his teammates hung back, hesitant, like they didn’t know whether to approach or leave him alone. And he was alone, his presence towering and isolating all at once, his fists tight at his sides, his shoulders tense as if bracing against the silence. It unsettled you, the way the moment seemed to cling to him, and no matter how hard you tried to dissect your reaction, to rationalize why you cared, you came up empty.
The diner hummed with life, its retro charm illuminated by the glow of neon signs that flickered in soft pinks and blues, casting a nostalgic haze over the checkered floors. A jukebox in the corner cycled through crackling tunes from decades past, its rhythm barely audible beneath the chatter and clatter of plates. The air was thick with the scent of sizzling burgers, greasy fries, and milkshakes topped with whipped cream, sweet and heavy like the moment itself.
You slid into a vinyl booth near the back, its cushions worn but inviting, sticking faintly to your skin as you settled in, Yangyang pressed against your side with a closeness that felt familiar. Across from you, Mark claimed his seat, his phone buzzing incessantly on the table, its screen lighting up with every notification. Donghyuck elbowed Chenle for room, while Shotaro balanced precariously on the edge, and Nahyun draped an arm along the backrest as if she owned it. Laughter bubbled up around you, filling the air with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the adrenaline still humming in your veins. The energy was contagious, amplified by the clink of milkshake glasses and the shuffle of servers weaving between tables, balancing trays piled high with burgers and fries.
Mark’s phone buzzed again, the sound cutting briefly through the conversation, but no one seemed to mind. The win had done its job—lifting everyone’s spirits, filling the booth with a kind of camaraderie that felt earned. The river court might’ve been left behind, but its electricity lingered, settling into the diner like it belonged.
“Alright, who’s ordering the milkshakes?” Donghyuck asked, flipping through the laminated menu with exaggerated focus, even though he clearly had it memorized. He tapped the plastic cover dramatically. “I’m thinking vanilla, but if anyone dips their fries in it, we’re fighting.”
“Bold of you to assume your milkshake won’t get stolen first,” Chenle shot back, his grin wide as he leaned over and snatched the menu from Donghyuck’s hands.
“You’re all wrong,” Yangyang chimed in, throwing an arm casually around your shoulders like he’d been crowned the authority on diner orders. “Strawberry milkshakes are undefeated. Right?” He glanced at you, his brows raised expectantly.
You shrugged, biting back a smile. “Depends on who’s paying. I feel like getting chocolate tonight.”
Nahyun leaned back, her nails clicking against her phone case as she slid it into her pocket. “Order whatever you want,” she said lightly, her tone breezy but definitive. “It’s on me. Consider it my treat for Mark’s win.”
Mark glanced up briefly, his lips twitching into a polite, tight-lipped smile. “Thanks, Nahyun,” he said, his voice soft. Her eyes lingered on him just a second longer than necessary, her expression unreadable before she turned away.
“You’re so sweet,” Shotaro teased, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at Nahyun with adoration. “Our girl’s out here spoiling us.”
Nahyun grinned, rolling her eyes as though she wasn’t the least bit flustered. “You’re all broke, and someone has to keep us fed.”
Yangyang shot you a quick, knowing glance, his lips quirking up in silent acknowledgement. Nahyun was loaded, after all—her father was a well-established businessman with a name that carried weight in every room it entered. She didn’t like to boast about it, though, always downplaying the resources that made moments like this seem effortless for her.
“Mark deserves it,” Nahyun added, her voice gentler now as she leaned forward slightly, her gaze briefly flicking to him. “The win, the attention—you’ve worked hard for this.”
Mark’s smile softened, though his focus seemed to drift as his phone buzzed again on the table. “Thanks,” he murmured, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.
“Mark’s big now,” Donghyuck teased, leaning over to nudge his shoulder, his tone exaggeratedly playful. “The river court king. Bet half the campus is sliding into your DMs.”
Mark laughed, locking his phone with a shrug. “It’s not that serious,” he said, though the flicker of pride in his expression betrayed him.
“Not serious? You’ve been glued to that thing all night,” Yangyang quipped, tossing a fry in his direction. “Who’s got you so distracted? Don’t tell me it’s Areum.”
At the mention of her name, something shifted—not in Mark, but in you. His response was easy, casual, the kind of thing anyone else would accept without a second thought. “It’s nothing. Just some texts,” he said, and his voice carried the same calm steadiness it always had. But you knew him too well, knew the weight of his pauses, the way his focus drifted even when he tried to stay present. It wasn’t anything obvious, not a conscious change, but you felt it anyway, a quiet pull that instinctively made you hesitate.
The laughter and teasing at the table felt distant, like you were watching it play out from a step behind. You’d known Mark for so long, understood his rhythms in a way no one else did, and this was different. Subtle, but there. The slight shift in how he carried himself, how he let the group orbit around him, how his attention flickered in and out. It wasn’t that he was pulling away deliberately—it was more like a current you couldn’t see but could feel, pulling him toward something else, leaving you tethered in a place that no longer felt the same. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but it was there, a quiet pull you couldn’t ignore.
Still, the energy around the booth buzzed on, as chaotic and lighthearted as ever, pulling you back into the present. Chenle, predictably, had stolen Yangyang’s burger, holding it just out of reach while Yangyang swatted at him. “You’re insufferable,” Yangyang grumbled, leaning across the table with exaggerated annoyance, his arms flailing dramatically as the group erupted into laughter.
Donghyuck, leaning back against the booth with a smirk, shook his head. “It’s like watching two toddlers fight over a toy. Pathetic.”
Shotaro laughed, breaking a fry in half before tossing one piece at Chenle. “Just share the burger, man. Yangyang’s probably starving.”
“Starving for attention,” Chenle shot back, grinning as he finally handed the burger back.
Nahyun, ever the composed one, glanced up from her milkshake. “You boys are exhausting. Remind me why I hang out with you again?”
“Because you love us,” Donghyuck quipped, winking at her. “And you pay for our food.”
Mark chuckled quietly, the sound soft but warm as he leaned back in his seat. Finally, he had set his phone down and cleared his throat. “I keep getting messages about Jeno’s party,” he said casually, his tone light but purposeful. “I think we should go.”
The table fell quiet, all eyes turning to him. Donghyuck raised an eyebrow. “Really? You want to party with Jeno after what just happened?”
Mark shrugged again, leaning back in his seat with a casual air that didn’t quite match the flicker of something unsure in his eyes. “Why not? We deserve to celebrate, and he throws good parties. Plus, what’s he gonna do to me? To us?”
Donghyuck snorted. “I can think of a few things. None of them are great.”
Shotaro frowned slightly, clearly uneasy. “It feels weird, though. After the game and everything… would he even want us there?”
Mark leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Does it matter? He’s not going to do anything. It’s just a party. And honestly? I’m not gonna let him think he can intimidate us. We deserve to have a good time.”
Yangyang hesitated but finally nodded, tossing a fry into his mouth. “If Mark says it’s fine, it’s fine. Who’s going to argue with him after that win?”
The group began to come around, one by one, as Mark’s quiet confidence settled over the table. Even Nahyun, who had initially looked skeptical, sighed and leaned back. “Fine. But if it turns into a disaster, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
Mark laughed softly, his gaze finally landing on you. “What about you?”
You frowned slightly, your reluctance clear in the way your fingers tapped lightly against the table. “Do I have to?”
“For me,” Mark said simply, his tone softer now, almost persuasive in its simplicity.
You hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. You didn’t want to go. The idea of stepping into Jeno’s world felt wrong, like crossing a line you weren’t ready for. But Mark’s gaze held steady, and you knew the answer before you spoke. “Fine,” you muttered finally. “For you.”
The group’s mood lifted again, the earlier tension dissolving into laughter and teasing as plans were tossed around for what to wear and who would show up. But the unease lingered at the edges of your mind, quiet but insistent. Mark’s growing confidence, his ease with stepping into Jeno’s orbit, felt like the start of something you couldn’t quite name yet—and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.
The upscale apartment towered over the skyline, a shimmering pillar of glass and metal that exuded wealth and exclusivity. Even from the sidewalk, it drew stares from passersby, the kind of building that made you stop and wonder who could possibly afford to live there. As you and your friends approached the entrance, the conversation faltered, each of you glancing upward, wide-eyed and momentarily silenced by the sheer grandeur of it.
Inside, the lobby was sleek and cavernous, the kind of space designed to intimidate. Marble floors stretched out in gleaming, uninterrupted perfection, reflecting the soft golden light of chandeliers that hung like modern sculptures. Every detail was curated—the smooth black leather chairs arranged in precise symmetry, the abstract artwork that lined the walls, the faint scent of something expensive and floral lingering in the air. You hadn’t been here before, but the weight of it pressed against your chest. This wasn’t just an apartment; it was a symbol, a statement of status that felt like it had nothing to do with the lives most people lived.
Yangyang let out a low whistle, his gaze sweeping the space. “This is where he lives? Seriously?”
Donghyuck snorted, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Of course it is. It’s Jeno. Did you think he was going to live in a regular dorm like the rest of us?”
Chenle raised a brow, his voice light but tinged with disbelief. “This isn’t even a home—it’s a fortress.”
You stole a glance at Mark, catching the faintest flicker of something in his expression as he took it all in. His posture was steady, but his jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he surveyed the lobby. Indifference. That’s what it looked like on the surface, but you knew him too well to miss the weight behind it. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the dissonance in him. This world, Jeno’s world, was so far removed from his own—a world where appearances and wealth dictated everything.
The elevator ride was silent, the mirrored walls reflecting back the tension none of you dared to name. Each passing floor only heightened the unease, and though Mark kept his head high, his hands curled into loose fists at his sides. You wondered if he was thinking about the river court, the place he’d claimed as his own, the place he fought to hold onto. The implications were stark—Jeno’s life was one of privilege, his apartment a stark testament to a kind of luxury Mark had never known.
And yet, Mark didn’t falter. When the elevator doors slid open, revealing a hallway bathed in soft lighting and lined with minimalist decor, he stepped out first, his movements steady. You saw it then, the subtle shift in his shoulders, the way he squared them just slightly, like he was ready to walk into another game. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and calm, though his gaze lingered for a fraction too long on the massive double doors ahead of you, the sound of distant bass thumping behind them.
The party hit you before you even stepped through the door, the bass vibrating through the walls in relentless, bone-deep pulses. As the door swung open, the scent hit you—a dizzying mix of expensive cologne, spilled liquor, and something rawer beneath it: smoke, sweat, and the faint bite of something illicit. It was overwhelming, like walking into a storm of excess, where every sensation was heightened, every edge sharpened.
The apartment itself was striking, luxurious in a way that felt almost clinical. From the outside, it had been a fortress of wealth, gleaming and untouchable, but inside, the chaos unraveled its perfection. The once-pristine marble floors were sticky with spilled drinks; velvet cushions were tossed haphazardly onto the ground, stained and trampled underfoot. Sleek black leather couches, carefully arranged for mingling, had been overtaken—strangers lounging, laughing, or passing joints back and forth like they owned the space. A glass-top coffee table bore the brunt of the mess: red solo cups, half-eaten snacks, and the unmistakable burn marks from ash that hadn’t quite made it into the tray. The air reeked faintly of weed, the scent clashing with the sharper tang of alcohol soaked into the upholstery.
Everywhere you looked, the apartment bore Jeno’s mark—modern, sleek, and deliberately impressive. The walls were lined with trophies, sports medals, and action shots of him mid-game, frozen in moments of triumph. Framed magazine covers featuring Jeno in his prime hung near the mounted TV that dominated the living room, but their significance was buried under the noise of the party. A tall bookshelf near the corner displayed a mix of Jaemin’s art books and a few carefully placed plants—small signs of someone quieter, someone who didn’t thrive in this chaos. Jaemin’s reading chair, tucked beneath a tasteful lamp, was the only corner of the room untouched by the storm, its presence almost laughably out of place amidst the mess.
The open space was designed for gatherings—couches arranged for conversation, edgy bar stools in brushed steel pulled up to a sleek black granite counter—but the party had warped it. Furniture had been shoved aside to accommodate the crowd, and the careful curation of Jeno’s life was slowly being erased by the sheer weight of it all. A framed photo of one of Jeno’s biggest wins lay shattered on the floor, symbolic of how his true self—the ambitious athlete, the rising star—was being buried beneath the excess he hosted.
“Jeno’s parties are insane, he has a reputation.” Donghyuck muttered, leaning in close enough for you to catch the hint of tequila on his breath. His gaze swept the room with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Remember that one time someone ended up naked in the pool? Fully dressed when they got here. Ended up naked. In December.”
Chenle, already nursing his second drink, let out a sharp laugh. “That was Jeno’s fault. Pretty sure he dared them.”
“Not Jeno,” Shotaro said, swaying slightly as he leaned against the counter, eyes glassy from the buzz. “It had to be Jaemin. He’s the quiet troublemaker. You know, the ones you don’t see coming.”
Yangyang leaned casually against you, his elbow brushing yours as he scoffed. “Jaemin? That guy doesn’t dare anyone to do anything. He’s probably off somewhere reading. If it was anyone, it had to be Jeno. You’ve seen him—he eats this kind of chaos up.”
Donghyuck snorted, grabbing a shot and passing it to Chenle. “Eats it up? He runs it. Guy stirs the pot, sits back, and watches it all go down.”
“Remember that time someone got caught hooking up in Jeno’s bathroom?” Chenle said, barely containing his laughter. “I swear the guy ran out without his pants.”
Yangyang leaned back, biting back a grin. “Not before Jeno walked in and decided to stay. Didn’t he just… join in?”
Donghyuck barked out a laugh, slamming his drink on the counter. “He didn’t just join in—he locked the door and told everyone to wait their turn.”
Chenle doubled over, tears in his eyes. “The way people were banging on that door for ages, like their lives depended on it. Only Jeno could turn his own bathroom into some kind of sex den.”
“You think that’s bad? Look over there,” Donghyuck added, nodding toward the dark hallway where a couple disappeared seconds ago. “Guarantee he’s set up the guest room for round two.”
You stared at them, shaking your head in disbelief. “Wow, Jeno is such a jerk. Doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Hasn’t he been with Areum for several years?”
Mark, who had been quiet up until now, looked up from his drink with a shrug. “Not exactly. They’re on and off a lot. Honestly, they’ve spent just as much time apart as they have together.”
Your brow furrowed, and you glanced back toward the chaos. “That’s… complicated.”
“Welcome to Jeno,” Donghyuck said again, raising his glass like he was toasting the chaos itself.
“Don’t forget the guy who lit a joint with Jeno’s scented candle,” Chenle added, grinning as he tipped his drink back. “High as hell and smelling like lavender.”
You shake your head in disbelief as the group exchange stories back and forth. You didn’t belong here. Not really. But your friends were with you, grounding you in their chaotic way. Donghyuck had already taken a shot and was loudly challenging Chenle to do the same, while Shotaro swayed to the music with a looseness that made him look like he’d been born to dance. Yangyang was at your side, his hand brushing your elbow whenever you seemed to falter, his presence a quiet anchor in the madness. “You good?” he asked, his voice barely cutting through the din, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.
“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a tight smile. The truth was, the air felt too thick, the music too loud, the sheer volume of people overwhelming. But you stayed. For Mark. For the group.
Mark was at the center of it all. People you didn’t know—some you recognized from the river court, others from campus—seemed to orbit him, clapping him on the back, offering him drinks, pulling him into conversations. His phone buzzed constantly in his hand, but he barely acknowledged it, his gaze drifting now and then to Areum. She stood with Jeno on the other side of the room, flanked by Karina and Winter, their presence impossibly polished, their beauty almost weaponized in the way they commanded attention.
Jaemin stood near the edge of the chaos, his expression unreadable as his eyes flickered over the mess that sprawled across the apartment. He sighed, shaking his head, the movement subtle but telling. You only knew Jaemin from tutoring him, but it had become clear early on that he was someone who valued his peace and personal space. He had a calmness about him, a quiet, introverted nature that seemed at odds with the chaos of the wild parties Jeno was known for throwing. He wasn’t the type to seek attention or thrive in the noise—he preferred stillness, his presence subdued but steady. It was almost jarring to see him here, surrounded by the mess and the loud, unruly energy, yet somehow still managing to keep a part of himself separate from it all.
It surprised you that he was on the basketball team at all, let alone so closely tied to Jeno. The bond between them was evident in the way Jaemin moved through the space with a familiarity that spoke of years spent by Jeno’s side. They weren’t just teammates; they were something deeper. Best friends since childhood, practically brothers. There was a loyalty between them that ran deep, even when their personalities seemed to diverge so sharply. Jeno was loud, commanding, thriving on the chaos he created, while Jaemin was his quieter counterpart, the steady presence who stayed even when it didn’t seem like he fit.
In contrast, the other Seoul Ravens dominated a corner of the room, their energy loud and brash, their voices and laughter cutting through the space like a blade. Soobin, San, and Wooyoung didn’t need to dance to draw attention; their charisma was magnetic, pulling eyes and energy toward them like a gravitational force. They were effortless, their confidence bordering on arrogance, but even they couldn’t outshine Jeno. No one ever did.
Jeno was everywhere and nowhere, his movements fluid as he worked the room, drink in hand, a sharp smile cutting through the tension that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. He wasn’t sulking, wasn’t brooding—but the anger from earlier hadn’t entirely left him, simmering beneath the surface. You hated how easily he drew your gaze, the way his shirt clung to his frame, the veins in his arms catching the dim light when he tipped his drink to his lips. He was beautiful in the most infuriating way, his presence commanding without effort. But Areum at his side was an afterthought. They barely spoke, her hand resting on the stem of her glass while his attention wandered. It felt… off. Detached.
Yangyang nudged you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You look like you need some air.”
You didn’t argue. The party was too much—too loud, too hot, too suffocating. You hated parties for this exact reason: the way they seemed to demand something of you, the expectation to blend in, to enjoy the noise and chaos when all you wanted was a quiet corner and a little distance. Yangyang led you through the throng, his hand on your back guiding you until you slipped through a side door and into the cool night.
This place was a maze, the kind of sprawling luxury that felt both overwhelming and impersonal, but Yangyang moved through it with surprising ease, his confidence unshaken as he led you through the labyrinth of rooms and corridors. His sharp jawline caught the dim light as he glanced back at you, his hand brushing against your elbow in a subtle, protective gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. After a few wrong turns, you both stumbled onto a quiet pocket of the apartment: a balcony with a stunning skyline view. It stretched wide, the sleek glass railing giving way to an unobstructed view of the glittering city below. Tall stools were arranged near a brushed-steel bar cart, the surface polished to perfection, though it seemed untouched tonight. The space was eerily empty, a quiet reprieve from the chaos inside.
You leaned against the bar, Yangyang passing you a drink as you glanced around. Small plants lined one side of the balcony—succulents in pastel planters, a tiny herb garden pot nestled among them. They were a gentle contrast to the sharp, high-tech edges of the rest of the space. Inside, the apartment carried the same contradictions: a shelf stacked with sleek, framed sports memorabilia next to an understated stack of art books, and a cold, modern sectional softened by an oversized, well-worn knit throw.
You turned to Yangyang, the question bubbling up before you could stop yourself. “Yangyang,” you said softly, your voice low against the hum of the city, “does Jeno live with anyone?”
Yangyang nodded, taking a sip from his cup before answering. “Jaemin’s his roommate. They’ve been close forever—like brothers, practically.”
You exhaled, leaning back slightly. “That explains it.” The contrast made sense now—the scattered pieces of personality you’d noticed throughout the apartment. The herb garden on the balcony. A reading corner tucked away in the living room. The occasional soft touch amid Jeno’s sleek, modern display of wealth. You could see both of them in the space: Jeno’s need to impress and Jaemin’s quiet search for peace.
Yangyang walked toward the glass railing, gesturing for you to join him. As you approached, the view below caught your breath in your throat. The city lights stretched endlessly in one direction, glittering like a sea of stars. But just beneath the balcony, a hidden garden sprawled—a pocket of calm in the middle of the chaos. String lights draped between the trees, casting a warm golden glow over stone pathways and soft greenery. The scent of damp earth and night-blooming flowers reached you even from here, clean and grounding, and for the first time that night, you felt like you could truly breathe.
Yangyang handed you a plastic cup, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. The rim was cool against your lips as he encouraged you to drink. “Better?” he asked, his voice quiet, his gaze steady and warm as it lingered on you.
“Much,” you admitted, exhaling a long breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. These quiet moments were everything—the antidote to the overwhelming night you’d been navigating.
He smiled, soft but with a flicker of playfulness that you knew all too well. “See? I know what I’m doing.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, the tension in your chest loosening just a little more. “You’re a good friend.”
The peace didn’t last. A shout cut through the stillness, sharp and angry, slicing through the muted hum of the city below. Both your heads snapped toward the noise, your breath catching as Yangyang instinctively straightened beside you, his drink set down with deliberate care. His expression shifted, tightening, and you missed the way his jaw ticked when you said the word friend with a conviction you wholeheartedly believed.
You and Yangyang stood above the garden, leaning slightly over the railing as you gazed below. The soft glow of the string lights cast flickering patterns over the greenery, but it wasn’t enough to distract from the voices rising from the apartment. Inside, near the far wall, Jeno and Areum stood locked in a tense standoff. Their words, low and cutting, drifted out, slicing through the muted hum of the party as if the air itself had been stilled by the weight of their argument. Around them, the usual chaos of the party seemed to pause, as though everyone was quietly attuned to the tension radiating from that corner.
“Are you serious?” Areum’s voice rose, trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief that carried across the room. “You bet on me?” Her words cut through the air like a slap, and even from where you stood, the rawness in her tone made your chest tighten.
Jeno’s response came in a low growl, the words edged with venom and frustration, though you couldn’t make out every detail. His stance was unyielding, his shoulders squared, but there was no triumph in his posture—only a kind of cold, simmering fury.
“Let’s go to my room,” he bit out suddenly, the sharpness of his voice leaving no room for negotiation. He didn’t look at her, didn’t look at anyone, his gaze fixed somewhere distant as he turned on his heel. His movements were rigid, his usual confidence replaced with something harsher, more volatile.
Areum hesitated, her expression shifting between fury and humiliation as her hand tightened around the stem of her glass. For a moment, it seemed like she might stay rooted there, but then she followed him, her steps brisk, the tension in her frame palpable. The sound of the door slamming shut reverberated through the space, silencing the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the room.
Yangyang nudged your arm gently, his voice low. “Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward the main room. “Let’s go find the others.”
You followed him reluctantly, your thoughts still tangled in the confrontation you’d just witnessed. Inside, the chaos surged again, but it wasn’t the same. The buzz was different now—hushed whispers, curious glances, and stolen conversations feeding the room like static electricity.
“Did you see Areum storm off?” Donghyuck exclaimed as soon as you rejoined the group. He was already holding a drink, his cheeks slightly flushed. “That was brutal.”
Chenle leaned in conspiratorially, his grin as sharp as ever. “Brutal? Jeno had a full meltdown. I’ve never seen him like that.”
Shotaro, oblivious as always, swayed his way over to you mid-dance move, his hands raised in mock innocence. “What happened? I was on the dance floor!” he exclaimed, his movements loose and carefree, as though he hadn’t just walked into the aftermath of a storm. The contrast was almost comedic, his carefree rhythm completely out of sync with the tension simmering around him.
“Jeno’s a mess, that’s what,” Donghyuck said with a smirk, swirling his drink. “Shit like this is always happening at his parties. This is just another Friday for him.”
Your gaze swept the room, catching sight of Mark lingering near the bar. His expression was hard to read, his fingers idly toying with the rim of his drink as if he were deep in thought. Something about his stillness struck you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you walked over to him.
You made your way toward Mark, your steps cutting cleanly through the noise around you, the weight of what you’d overheard pressing heavily on your chest. Areum’s words replayed in your mind, sharp and cutting: that Jeno had a deal with Mark, one that involved her as some twisted prize. The very idea of it unsettled you, twisting your stomach into knots. “What’s this about you and Jeno betting on Areum?” you asked, your voice low but firm, each word deliberate and sharp, demanding an answer.
Mark blinked, his head snapping toward you. “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, your arms crossing. “Is it true?”
Mark sighed, his shoulders dropping as he glanced away briefly. “Yeah… before the showdown, Jeno and I made a bet. If I won, I’d get to stay on the team—and I bet I could have Areum. If he won, I’d have to leave.”
The words hit you like a slap, and before you could stop yourself, you jabbed him hard in the arm, your expression tightening with disbelief. “What the fuck, Mark? Betting on a girl? That’s not like you at all.” He winced, rubbing his arm as his gaze met yours, his posture shifting uncomfortably under the weight of your accusation.
“I wasn’t serious,” he defended, his voice low but firm. “I just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. You know how he is—arrogant, always trying to one-up everyone. I wasn’t going to follow through.”
You stared at him, your chest tightening with disbelief. “I can’t believe you’d even think something like that, whether you’d follow it though or not. You’re one of the good guys, Mark.”
Mark’s jaw tightened, his expression softening slightly. “I would never actually do it. I just… I wanted to put him in his place. That’s all.”
Before you could respond, the sound of murmurs pulled your attention to the surrounding partygoers. Their whispers had grown louder, feeding off the tension in the room like vultures circling prey. You glanced around and realized people nearby were eavesdropping, their gazes darting between you, Mark, and the aftermath of Jeno and Areum’s confrontation, hungry for the next piece of gossip.
Yiren, Aisha, and Mia stood near the drinks table, their voices low but sharp, ensuring their words carried just far enough to be heard.
“Wow,” Yiren muttered, swirling her drink lazily. “That’s… rough.”
“Sucks to be her,” Aisha added, her tone flat, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at her lips.
Mia let out a short, dismissive laugh. “Guess she’s learning the hard way.”
Their remarks hung in the air, dripping with feigned detachment, their lack of sympathy slicing through the atmosphere. They didn’t bother to hide their interest, their words quiet enough to pass as casual but biting enough to linger.
Across the room, Karina and Winter—Areum’s closest friends—stood by the bar. Neither of them looked concerned, their expressions carefully indifferent. It was almost jarring, their lack of reaction, but you could tell there was more to it. Maybe they were used to this kind of drama. Or maybe they blamed Areum for getting involved with Jeno in the first place.
Amidst the heavy drama, you caught glimpses of Donghyuck and Chenle at a makeshift drinking game with a few of the Seoul Ravens guys. They were clearly hammered, Chenle’s laugh carrying over the din of the party while Donghyuck shouted something unintelligible, waving his glass in the air. Every so often, they yelled for you or Mark to join in, but the weight of the night kept you rooted, too consumed by the fallout to respond.
Shotaro, oblivious as ever, was happily dancing among random partygoers, a carefree contrast to the tension that gripped the room. Yangyang, ever the anchor, hovered nearby, his eyes darting between you and Mark. He tried to check on you more than once, his hand brushing against your arm in quiet concern, but each time, something else demanded your attention, leaving him trailing behind, his brow furrowed in frustration.
Nahyun stood further away, sipping from her glass as her gaze flickered between Mark and the chaos. Her expression was unreadable, but she kept glancing at him, her focus lingering longer than it should have. Shotaro, meanwhile, remained blissfully unaware, too lost in the rhythm of the music to notice anything beyond the dance floor.
Then Donghyuck appeared, stumbling slightly as he reached you, his words slurred but sharp enough to land. “Word is Jeno just dumped Areum. And for good.” He paused, letting the weight of the revelation settle. “Apparently, she’s sobbing upstairs. He made it clear—this isn’t one of their breaks. It’s done. Over. She’s heartbroken.”
The words hit you, and you gasped, the shock twisting your stomach. You turned to Mark instinctively, searching his face for a reaction, but he was already moving away, his shoulders rigid as he slipped into the crowd without a word.
Your eyes followed his path through the throng of people, bracing yourself when you saw Mark and Jeno crossing paths near the edge of the room. Their interaction was brief—a few words exchanged that you couldn’t hear—but the energy between them was unmistakable. It wasn’t tense, not outright, but it wasn’t friendly either. Somewhere in the middle, simmering with unspoken frustration and emotions that seemed ready to boil over at any moment.
But then, without a glance back, Mark disappeared, his steps purposeful as he ascended the staircase leading upstairs. The room felt smaller, heavier, as if everything hinged on what would happen next. This moment, you realized, was a pivot point.
It would be the one to change his life forever.
The party felt like it had been swallowed by a dark undercurrent, the energy pulsing with something heavier than the bass vibrating through the walls. Amidst the clinking glasses, careless laughter, and swaying bodies, one thread of tension stood out: Jeno. His presence loomed, even when he wasn’t in sight, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon.
The fallout from the river court was still fresh, his loss to Mark an unspoken shadow over the night. Add to that the bet, the breakup, and Jeno was more than just a name on people’s lips—he was the source of the drama everyone had come to revel in. You caught snippets of murmured conversations, hints of his movements through the apartment. Someone mentioned seeing him nearly knock over a table in frustration, another laughed about how he’d brushed off a girl trying to flirt with him.
Jeno wasn’t sulking, wasn’t brooding—he didn’t need to. Even without trying, his energy was volatile enough to crackle through the walls, drawing eyes and igniting speculation. A few bold partygoers seemed almost eager to provoke him, circling closer, testing boundaries. It felt as though everyone was waiting for something—an eruption, a confrontation, a moment where the tension snapped and spilled over.
You couldn’t take it anymore. The party, the tension, the endless whispers—it was all too much. “I’m heading out,” you announced, your voice cutting through the noise. You avoided their surprised looks from your friends, already standing up and brushing imaginary lint off your clothes.
Yangyang immediately straightened, his brow furrowing. “I’ll take you home.”
“Me too,” Donghyuck added, already reaching for his jacket.
You shook your head, offering them a small smile to ease their concern. “It’s okay. I can handle it. I’ll book an Uber.”
Yangyang hesitated, his eyes scanning your face, but you stood firm. “I’ll be fine,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Just… stay here. Have fun. I’ll text you when I get home.”
Donghyuck exchanged a glance with Yangyang, then shrugged. “Fine. But if you don’t text, we’re coming to find you.”
A hollow laugh slipped past your lips, more reflex than amusement, as you forced a nod. “Deal.” Without looking back, you turned toward the hallway, the distant pulse of the party fading behind you like an afterthought. But as the sound grew quieter, the weight in your chest grew heavier. Leaving wasn’t just about escaping the noise or the heat of too many bodies pressed together; it felt like trying to outrun something larger, something sharp and inescapable that had settled deep in your chest.
The hallway stretched before you, lined with identical doors and sharp, minimalist edges. Everything gleamed under muted lighting, the kind of cold perfection that left no room for warmth. You moved through it with purpose, but as each turn led to another unfamiliar corridor, your determination began to unravel. The apartment was a labyrinth, designed more for show than function, and you were caught in its web, spinning deeper into its maze-like silence.
You told yourself you were simply searching for the exit, but your steps slowed, hesitation creeping in with each door you passed. Something about this place made you linger—curiosity, fascination, or perhaps the knowledge that leaving wasn’t as urgent as it had first felt.
A door caught your eye. Slightly ajar, it stood apart from the others, a faint glow spilling into the dim hallway like an invitation. The handle was cool under your palm as you pushed it open slowly, the breath catching in your throat as the room beyond revealed itself.
It was a monument to his achievements, a gallery of accomplishments that demanded attention.
Trophies glinted under warm light, their metallic surfaces catching and reflecting the glow like captured fire. Medals hung in perfect symmetry, their ribbons vivid against the dark shelves. Framed jerseys lined the walls, their bold numbers standing out like markers of past victories. Photographs were scattered throughout—Jeno mid-jump, his face a mask of fierce determination; Jeno drenched in sweat, his hands gripping a trophy; Jeno smiling with his teammates, the picture of triumph.
But it wasn’t just basketball. Academic certificates were framed alongside the sports memorabilia, their polished plaques and embossed seals a testament to a relentless pursuit of excellence. Engineering awards and science fair ribbons filled the spaces in between, balanced with letters of recognition from world-class institutions you knew well—MIT for engineering, FIBA for basketball. You always knew Jeno was intelligent, but seeing him acknowledged by names of this caliber felt almost surreal. Every piece was deliberate, curated, a seamless display of achievement.
As your gaze swept across the room, it caught on something that disrupted the flawless symmetry—a torn jersey, encased in glass. Small and clearly from his youth, its fabric was frayed and stitched together with uneven, amateur hands. The imperfections stood in stark contrast to the polished brilliance surrounding it, yet it commanded attention. It was the only piece that revealed struggle, rawness—a crack in the otherwise impenetrable armor of perfection.
Your feet carried you closer without thought, drawn to the display. The jersey’s stitches told a story—of effort, of failure, of resilience. It didn’t fit the flawless narrative surrounding it, but that only made it feel more real, more intimate.
You leaned into the wall’s cool surface, fingers curling instinctively around the spiral of your notebook. The pen moved without hesitation, tracing the polished lines of the room onto the page—the trophies catching the light, the torn jersey stitched with uneven hands, a single imperfection amidst calculated perfection. The motions were practiced, precise, capturing each observation as though the details alone could unlock something vital.
Your notes shifted, bleeding seamlessly into fragments from earlier: the river court, sharp words cutting through the air, the weight of tension in every movement. The faint bass from the party hummed beneath it all, a distant thread pulling at your focus, but you pressed on, turning the moment into something structured, something useful. This was for your project—at least, that’s what you told yourself, even as the stillness of the room wrapped tighter around you, every detail anchoring you deeper into its grip.
A faint smile touched your lips as you jotted down a final note, your heartbeat finally evening out. Just a few quick observations, you told yourself. Then you’d leave. But you didn’t stop. The pull was stronger than you expected. Quietly, almost guiltily, you reached for your phone, snapping a few photos of the room. The soft click of the shutter seemed too loud, echoing in the silence. This was for your project, you reminded yourself, though the tightness in your chest whispered otherwise.
But the calm shattered when the door behind you snapped open.
Your entire body went rigid, the notebook clutched so tightly to your chest that your fingers ached. Jeno stood in the doorway, his broad frame shadowing the room, shoulders tense and chest rising with slow, controlled breaths that betrayed the storm beneath. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked carved from stone, a vein in his neck pulsing visibly under the dim light. His eyes, dark and unrelenting, locked onto yours with a heat that made your stomach twist, flicking briefly to the notebook in your hands like it was a weapon aimed directly at him.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was low, dangerous, carrying a jagged edge that scraped against your composure. The door clicked shut behind him with a quiet finality, sealing you in, the sound loud in the silence.
Your throat went dry, but you forced yourself to speak, gripping the notebook as if it could shield you from the weight of his gaze. “Nothing. I’m just leaving.”
He didn’t move, but his presence expanded, his gaze cutting through the air and landing squarely on the notebook in your hands. His eyes lingered, heavy and sharp, as if dissecting every inch of it—of you. The muscle in his jaw ticked, a brief yet telling betrayal of the tension coiled in his frame. His anger wasn’t loud; it didn’t need to be. It pressed into the room, hot and suffocating, like a force you couldn’t ignore. You shifted instinctively, no hesitation in your steps, aiming to brush past him without a word, your shoulders back, your head high, but his hand shot out, lightning-fast and unforgiving. It wrapped around your wrist, firm but not crushing, halting you mid-step.
The impact was immediate. In one fluid motion, he pulled you and turned, your back colliding with the wall with a soft thud. A startled gasp left your lips, your notebook slipping from your fingers to dangle uselessly by your side. His body followed, a solid, immovable force pressing into yours, caging you between him and the cold wall. His chest barely grazed yours, enough to steal the air from your lungs, his proximity overwhelming. Heat radiated from him, a searing contrast to the chilled surface at your back.
You tried to inhale, to regain control, but his scent wrapped around you first—Something heady and sharp, a woodsy scent tangled with the faint bite of smoke, cutting through the air like a temptation you couldn’t escape. The weight of his hand remained on your wrist, pinning it just enough to keep you still but not enough to bruise. His other arm braced against the wall beside your head, boxing you in completely.
“What the hell is this?” His voice was a low snarl, and he nodded toward the notebook still clenched in your hands.
The words were barely out before you planted your hand firmly against his chest, shoving him back just enough to create space, reclaiming a fragment of control in the process. His sharp eyes followed the movement, narrowing with unrelenting focus, but he didn’t resist. Not yet. The heat of his body lingered, palpable even with the small distance you’d forced between you. Your breath hitched as you steadied yourself, flipping open the notebook with deliberate precision, the pages whispering against your fingers. Then, without hesitation, you let the words pour out, each one landing like the sharp crack of a whip.
“Lee Jeno,” you began, your voice sharp, deliberate, each word calculated to land like a blow. “Arrogant. Reckless. Self-absorbed.” The pen in your hand moved with purpose, its scratch against the paper slicing through the heavy silence. You didn’t just write the words; you said them, letting them hang in the air between you. “Short-tempered. Led by ego, not logic.” Your gaze lifted briefly, meeting him with a challenge, before returning to the page. It wasn’t an accident. It was a provocation.
The weight of his presence pressed against you like a storm building at your back, his silence louder than anything he could have said. You didn’t falter. “Irresponsible,” you continued, your tone colder now, sharper. “Thinks he’s untouchable.” The tension was suffocating, his breath audible behind you, but you refused to stop, the pointed edge of your words cutting deeper with every stroke of your pen.
The tension shattered in an instant. With a speed that left you breathless, Jeno moved, tearing the notebook from your grip before you could even think to hold on tighter. The sheer force of it left you gasping, the sound sharp and startled as your back hit the cold wall behind you. The heat of his body closed in, erasing the space between you, suffocating in its intensity.
“Your project,” he hissed, the venom in his tone sinking into your skin as his fingers tightened briefly around your wrist before releasing it. His hand braced against the wall beside your head, caging you in, while his other hand lifted the notebook, the motion swift and deliberate, like he was ripping away your control. “You mean this?” he continued, his voice low and cutting, the notebook dangling from his grip like a taunt, daring you to respond.
He held it above you, using his height advantage effortlessly, his smirk sharp, deliberate, like the blade of a knife pressing into soft flesh. His body was so close, the heat of him licking at your skin, his chest brushing faintly against yours with every slow, measured breath. His arm stayed raised, muscles taut and flexing just enough to draw your attention, a silent reminder of his strength, his control. The weight of his dominance was physical, palpable—his free hand resting on the wall beside your head, caging you in as his scent, heady and sharp, filled every shallow inhale you managed. His eyes dragged over you like a slow burn, flicking from your parted lips to the slight rise and fall of your chest, as though cataloging every reaction you couldn’t suppress.
He flipped the notebook open, pressing it against the wall with one hand, his eyes moving swiftly over the pages, the crease in his brow deepening with every note he absorbed. The corners of his mouth twisted into something between amusement and irritation, a sharp exhale slipping past his lips as he caught glimpses of your observations. He didn’t care that he was invading your space, your secrecy—it wasn’t even about the notebook anymore. It was about peeling back every layer, uncovering every thought you’d dared to put on paper about him, dissecting the way you saw him as if it held the answers to his frustration. His grip on the notebook tightened as he lingered on a particular line, the muscle in his jaw twitching in a way that betrayed his otherwise cool exterior. The need to read everything, to know exactly how you thought of him, burned in his eyes, unrelenting, as though your notes could explain the unrelenting pull between you.
Above you, the notebook became both a shield and a weapon, his towering frame closing the space further, radiating power and dominance as if he knew exactly how to wield it. He snapped it shut with a deliberate flick, the sound sharp and final, before letting it dangle carelessly from his grip, mocking in its weightlessness, his presence pressing into you like a command you weren’t sure you wanted to disobey.
“Every move I make, every mistake—you write it all down, don’t you? You love dissecting me. His voice dropped lower, smooth but cutting, each word dragging across your nerves like a deliberate provocation. “Tell me,” he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your temple, “what did you think you’d find? Something worth understanding?”
“Give it back, Jeno,” you snapped, your voice sharp with rising fury. You reached for it, but he held it higher, his smirk twisting into something cruel. “I’m done with this party. I just want to leave.”
“Running away again?” His tone was mocking, the sarcasm cutting. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “You always watch from the sidelines, scribbling in your little book. And then you vanish. But not this time.”
He stepped closer, his body pressing more firmly into yours, the heat between you becoming unbearable. You could feel every shift of his muscles, the unrelenting tension rolling off him like static electricity.
“Jeno, stop,” you tried again, your voice faltering but firm.
“Stop what?” he bit out, his voice sharp, his breath brushing against your cheek. “Stop calling out your bullshit? Or stop letting you treat me like some experiment?”
You exhaled sharply, your anger surging past your unease. “Your meltdown isn’t my responsibility,” you spat, your words cutting through the charged air like a blade. “You humiliated yourself.”
His expression flickered—pain, pride, fury—all flashing across his face in a heartbeat before his smirk returned, colder this time. “Maybe I’ll humiliate you next.”
Your chest heaved against his, the sensation maddening as you struggled to gather the strength to push him away. But the storm in your chest betrayed you—frustration, defiance, and something darker tangled together until you could barely tell them apart. “Let me go,” you snapped, the sharpness in your tone falling flat beneath the tension, a crack in the armor you were desperately trying to maintain.
Jeno didn’t flinch. If anything, your demand only deepened the smirk on his lips, sharp and dangerous. “You keep saying let me go,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp that scraped against the edges of your composure, hot breath grazing your ear. “But you keep pulling me closer.”
You gasped, the sharp sound catching in your throat as the weight of his words settled over you. It was only then that your brain caught up to your body—realizing, with a jolt of clarity, what you had been doing all along. Your hands, which had meant to push him away, fisted into the fabric of his shirt instead. The soft sound that spilled from your lips, unbidden and undeniable, felt like a confession, one he noticed immediately. His eyes flickered with something darker, his body pressing closer, the heat of him bleeding through the thin layers of clothing between you.
The hard line of his cock ground into you, the contact deliberate and unrelenting, sparking a tension so electric it made your thighs clench involuntarily. Your gasp turned into something closer to a moan, half-caught in your throat as your head tipped back against the wall, the cold surface a stark contrast to the fire licking through your veins. His hips rolled, slow and measured, dragging against you with a precision that felt calculated to drive you insane.
Your hips moved instinctively, grinding into him with a deliberate defiance that matched the fire in your voice. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you demanded, your words trembling with anger, but the heat behind them betrayed something darker—desire, raw and undeniable, pulsing through every deliberate motion.
“What you’ve been asking for,” he bit out, his voice rough. His hand, once braced against the wall, moved with purpose, sliding down to your waist. His fingers curled into your hips with bruising intent, pulling you into him, eliminating any space that might have offered you reprieve. His breath ghosted over your neck, warm and ragged, his lips grazing close enough to tease but never landing. Instead, he focused his weight, pressing you back into the wall, the firm lines of his chest and abdomen crushing into you as though daring you to deny this.
“Don’t play innocent now,” he hissed, his voice low, dripping with arrogance. “You’ve been watching me, writing about me, tearing me apart piece by piece in that notebook of yours.” His eyes burned into yours, daring you to deny it, but you couldn’t find your voice. “So tell me—” he ground his hips against you again, the motion deliberate, devastating, dragging a guttural sound from the back of your throat, “—is this the part you wanted to see? The part you couldn’t write down?”
The grind of his hips was deliberate and devastating, his erection a blunt, heated pressure against your core. He didn’t move cautiously, didn’t hold back. The roll of his body into yours was unrestrained, the friction igniting something raw and animalistic between you. Your gasp broke the heavy silence, high and desperate, and your hands moved without thought, clinging to his shirt like an anchor against the overwhelming tide of him.
Jeno’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you even closer. His hips surged forward, the hardness of him dragging along the seam of your jeans, the layers of fabric doing nothing to dull the shocking intensity of the contact. A low sound escaped his throat—half a groan, half a growl—as if he, too, was unraveling under the weight of the moment. His other hand slid from the wall, trailing down to join the first at your waist, pulling your body flush against his with a force that made you arch into him.
You could feel his muscles tense and shift beneath his clothes, his strength tangible and all-encompassing as he moved. Each thrust was hard and precise, leaving you breathless as your thighs clenched against the wall, your body caught between unrelenting heat and the cold, unforgiving surface behind you. Your breaths came faster, shallow and broken, each exhale brushing against his neck as the space between you ceased to exist.
“You feel that?” he rasped, his voice rough, laced with a dark edge as he leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “That’s what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?” His words sliced through the air, sharp and cutting, their effect only amplified by the next grind of his hips, harder this time, as though punishing you for every unspoken thought he’d somehow dragged to the surface.
You didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. The push and pull of his body against yours had robbed you of coherent thought, leaving only the heat and tension and the maddening friction that made your head tilt back against the wall, exposing your throat to the warm rush of his breath. Your nails scraped against his chest, desperate for purchase, for anything to ground you, but the smirk tugging at his lips told you he had no intention of letting you find it.
Jeno’s hands slid lower, gripping your hips so tightly you could feel every ridge of his fingertips through the fabric. He pushed you down into him, his next thrust leaving no room for subtlety as his cock ground into the most sensitive spot between your thighs, sending a bolt of electricity up your spine. The sound that tore from your throat was involuntary, a mixture of frustration and something far more dangerous, and his answering groan was a low, guttural sound that made your stomach tighten.
“You don’t get to walk in, fuck with my life, and think you can just walk out,” he growled, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw, his voice fraying at the edges with the rawness of it all. “This is what you wanted—so take it.”
His hips surged forward again, harder, faster, his hands pulling you into every punishing thrust, leaving you gasping for air, for control, for anything that wasn’t him. But Jeno wasn’t offering you an escape—he was pulling you deeper, dragging you into the chaos he’d been holding back until now.
The tension snapped taut, and Jeno’s voice cut through the charged air like a blade. “You will not analyze me like I’m some kind of lab rat,” he growled, his tone low, firm, laced with a sharp edge of warning. His hand braced against the wall near your head, the other still gripping your hip, a physical manifestation of his need to assert control. “You’re going to listen to me. For once. No scribbling notes. No sideline stares. Just me.”
The heat of him pressed into you, each word dragging against your composure, unraveling it thread by thread. “Say something,” he demanded, his voice dark, dangerous, the kind of command that made defiance feel futile. “Don’t just stand there. You came into my space, took me apart in that little book of yours—own it.”
For a moment, you let him believe it—the commanding stance, the clipped words. His proximity, his intensity, all felt like a calculated act of dominance. And yet, something in the air shifted. Your breath hitched involuntarily, your voice trembling just enough when you tried to counter, “This isn’t—”
“Don’t.” His grip tightened, fingers digging into your hip with enough force to draw a sharp inhale from your lips. “You act like you’re untouchable—like you’re better than all of this—but you’re not. Stop pretending.” His other hand slipped from the wall, curling under your chin to tilt your face toward his, his gaze piercing and unrelenting. “You want to tear me apart? Do it here. Look at me. Say it to my face. No hiding behind your notes. No running away.”
Your hands moved on instinct, gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as your hips rolled against his in deliberate defiance. “You want me to say it to your face?” you challenged, your voice darkening with every word. “Fine. You’re messy, arrogant, impossible. You push too hard, take too much, and it drives me insane. And still, here I am.”
The weight of your words didn’t settle; they ignited. The moment hung heavy between you, the heat, the pressure, his commands wrapping around you like a vice. For a fleeting second, your silence gave him the victory he wanted, the illusion that he was in control. But even he couldn’t fully ignore the way your breath wavered, the unspoken tension that pulsed between every defiant inhale.
Jeno leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a low snarl that sent heat curling through your stomach. “See what you do to me?” His hips shifted slightly, the movement deliberate and devastating, the friction between you enough to draw a soft gasp from your lips that you couldn’t suppress.
“This is messed up,” you bit out, your tone sharp but breathless, trying to keep some semblance of control. “You can’t just—”
“I can do whatever I want,” he interrupted, his voice a dark rasp as his grip on your waist tightened, his hand slipping lower with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt. “This is my place. My rules.”
When someone called his name from beyond the door, the sound was jarring, slicing through the haze between you. Your heart kicked into overdrive, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as your instincts flared with the threat of being caught. But Jeno didn’t flinch; his gaze remained locked on yours, unwavering, burning. The name came again, louder, more insistent, but he didn’t so much as glance toward the door. Instead, his grip on your waist tightened, his hips rolling into yours with a grinding motion that stole your breath.
“I’m busy!” he shouted, his voice rough, guttural, carrying a raw edge of impatience that matched the fire in his gaze. The footsteps hesitated outside, the muffled voices trailing off, and the moment stretched between you, charged and unbearable.
The sound of your notebook hitting the floor snapped you back to reality, the weight of his dominance crackling through the room. “Get out,” he commanded, his voice low, vibrating with finality. His hand slid from your waist, leaving a burning imprint behind as he stepped back, the sudden loss of contact a jarring contrast to the heat that had engulfed you moments ago. “Take your stupid notes and go.”
With a sharp breath, you bent to retrieve the notebook, your fingers brushing against the cold floor as his shadow loomed over you, heavy and deliberate. Just as your hand closed around the spiral binding, his presence surged closer. You stiffened when his hand moved, fingers grazing along the curve of your hip and trailing down, settling at the waistband of your jeans. The pressure was firm, the rough pad of his thumb brushing just under the hem of your shirt where it met denim. It was a touch that made your breath hitch—not gentle, not hesitant, but entirely purposeful.
Straightening abruptly, your glare locked onto his, fury searing through every muscle, but it only seemed to amuse him, his smirk dark and deliberate. “Fuck you, Jeno,” you spat, your voice shaking with equal parts venom and the heat coursing between you, every word cutting through the suffocating tension that bound you both. Yet, even as you stood your ground, the phantom of his touch lingered, burning hotter than it should have.
You hated how he acted like he held all the cards, as though every move you made was under his control. The way he pressed his dominance into every look, every word, every graze of his hand—it made your blood boil. But what you hated most was the way your body responded, as if betraying the firestorm in your head, craving the very control you wanted to snatch from him.
So you didn’t leave. Not yet. The moment was cut too short, the fire roaring in your veins demanding more—demanding control. You stepped closer, your hands fisting into his shirt as you spun the two of you around with a force that startled him. His back hit the wall with a sharp thud, the sound reverberating through the room. Your body pressed into his, not gently but with purpose, your hips driving forward to meet his with a ferocity that made him inhale sharply.
You wanted him to feel it—the power, the control shifting from his hands to yours. The heat radiating from him only fueled you further, your body moving instinctively as your hips ground against his in a rhythm that felt raw, undeniable. The hard press of him beneath his jeans brushed against you in a way that made your breath catch, but you refused to give it a name, refused to admit what it ignited in you. All you focused on was the way his chest rose sharply against yours, the way his hands twitched as if they didn’t know whether to push you away or pull you closer.
Your fingers gripped his shirt harder, nails digging into the fabric as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. His smirk had faltered, replaced by something darker, something uncertain, and for the first time, you felt it—the satisfaction of making him unsteady, of seizing the upper hand. You wanted him undone, caught in the very chaos he tried to pin on you. And if he thought he could still hold control, the press of your body against his made it clear—he was wrong.
Jeno’s eyes widened briefly, shock flickering across his face before it was overtaken by something darker, hungrier. His hands found your hips, his grip unrelenting as he pulled you closer, the friction between your bodies igniting a fire that burned hotter with every deliberate motion. His breath hitched, a low groan escaping his throat as your movements grew bolder, your hands sliding down his chest with an authority that left no room for misinterpretation.
“You’re not in control,” you murmured, your voice low, firm, each word dragging across his nerves like a challenge. His fingers flexed against your hips, digging into the flesh as though he could tether you to him, his body grinding against yours in desperate, unrestrained retaliation. Your hands moved with purpose, sliding up the expanse of his chest until your fingers found the first button of his shirt. With slow, deliberate movements, you began to undo it, the pads of your fingers grazing his skin with every flick. Each undone button revealed more of his taut, heated flesh, and you caught the sharp inhale he failed to suppress as your touch ignited a tension that went beyond control.
His voice, low and ragged, finally broke through the heavy silence. “You think you can—” he started, but the words faltered, lost in the sharp exhale he released as your hands flattened against his chest, sliding down to his abdomen. The warmth of your palms seared through the fabric of his shirt, your touch deliberate, unhurried. His tone shifted, quieter now, reverent, like he couldn’t quite believe the situation he’d found himself in. “You don’t fight fair.”
Your lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk, your movements slow, calculated, as you leaned in, your breath skimming over the hollow of his throat. His pulse pounded beneath your proximity, and you could feel it quicken. “And you don’t seem to mind,” you murmured, your voice velvet and sharp, a perfect taunt. The words slithered through the air, unapologetic in their bite, their confidence making his breath hitch.
Jeno knew better than anyone how deceiving appearances could be—how the cleanest, most composed surfaces often hid the darkest edges. But even then, he hadn’t expected this. You were the kind of girl he’d automatically slotted into a category: a goody two shoes, the rule-follower, the one who kept her head down and did what needed to be done without stepping out of line. You weren’t supposed to be the kind of person who would back him into a wall, your hips grinding against his like you owned him. The disconnect was maddening, and the sheer audacity of it made his jaw tighten, his chest heaving with labored breaths as he fought to regain some semblance of control. But control was slipping fast, burned away by the way you looked at him—eyes sharp, unyielding, daring him to do something about it. You were confident in a way that wasn’t just hot—it was intoxicating. And with every deliberate movement of your body against his, he realized how thoroughly he’d underestimated you. You weren’t just rewriting the image he’d had of you—you were setting it on fire.
His hands moved instinctively, trailing up your sides with a deliberate slowness, his touch trembling slightly, caught between hesitation and need. His fingers flexed, brushing the fabric of your shirt, stopping just shy of your waist as though unsure if finally gripping you would set him alight. But the heat between you demanded more, and the tension in his hands betrayed his restraint, every flex screaming a hunger to claim, to ground himself in the chaos you commanded. His lips parted, his breath hitching, but no words came—just a sharp, shaky exhale that betrayed the unraveling control he clung to. The weight of your dominance bore down on him, your presence a palpable force stripping him bare, leaving him trembling beneath your gaze. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, the rhythm breaking under the pressure of you. He wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to you—but the way you moved, the way you dismantled him with every sharp, calculated motion, left him powerless to stop it.
“Why are you so quiet now, hm? You wanted me to listen, didn’t you?” you murmured, your tone so low and enticing that it sent a shiver down his spine. You tilted your head, forcing his gaze to lock with yours, the weight of your command clear in your eyes. “This is me listening. Now what are you going to do about it?”
His jaw twitched, his silence betraying him, the usual edge to his demeanor dulled by the firestorm building in the space between you. The rhythm of his breaths staggered, your nearness, your audacity pulling him under. Finally, he swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper, the words dragged out like an admission he hadn’t meant to give. “I don’t know,” he rasped, his tone raw, laden with something between awe and frustration. “What do you want me to do?”
And still, he didn’t move. His control, his power—everything he’d used to define himself—crumbled in your hands, and for the first time, he didn’t hate it. He didn’t hate that you were the one taking the lead, that you were the one pressing into him with an intensity that made him dizzy. He didn’t know what to do with you—but it was clear you knew exactly what to do with him.
The air between you didn’t shatter—it stretched, thin and taut, vibrating with the weight of something unsaid as Jeno leaned closer. His breath skimmed your lips, warm and deliberate, a quiet threat disguised as temptation. The moment was agonizingly slow, a pull so visceral it felt like gravity itself had shifted to align with the space between you. His gaze burned into yours, daring, dark, and for a fleeting second, you felt the heavy inevitability of his mouth on yours, like it had already happened in another life.
But just before his lips could meet yours, you moved—decisive, sharp, unstoppable. Your palm flattened against his chest, firm and commanding, halting his advance mid-breath. The soft laugh that spilled from you wasn’t gentle; it was a weapon, slicing through the air and carving your dominance into the space he thought he controlled. Your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his shirt, your nails scraping just enough to make his breath hitch, but you didn’t close the gap.
Instead, you tilted your head, your lips brushing the edge of his jaw as you murmured, “You really thought I’d let you kiss me?” The words were slow, each syllable dripping with taunt and precision, as though you were savoring the power of holding him suspended like this. You shifted closer—not enough to close the distance, but just enough for your body to graze his, letting him feel the weight of your control. “Not a chance,” you finished, pulling back just enough to see the flicker of something desperate and undone flash across his face, feeding the fire you had no intention of extinguishing.
His frustration was a tangible thing, a heat that radiated off him, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as his parted lips trembled with words that never came. You leaned in, the brush of your lips barely skimming the shell of his ear as your hand slid lower, gliding over the taut planes of his torso. Your touch was slow, deliberate, and excruciating, your fingers tracing the waistband of his pants with a teasing pressure that made his breath stutter.
When your palm pressed firmly against the rigid heat straining beneath the fabric, his body jerked, the faintest sound—a mix between a groan and a gasp—escaping his throat. “So hard for me,” you whispered, your voice dripping with taunt and power, every word deliberate and cutting. Your fingers flexed slightly, drawing a sharp inhale from him, your lips curving into a smirk as you tilted your head to meet his wide-eyed, breathless gaze. “Is this what you wanted, Jeno?” you murmured, your tone silk and fire, dragging the tension higher as you let your palm press harder, savoring the way his composure crumbled beneath you.
A broken moan escaped his throat, raw and guttural, as his hips pressed into your touch instinctively. His hands twitched at his sides, unsure whether to grip the wall for support or touch you, but he didn’t move. You relished his submission, the way his control shattered under your dominance, the power shifting entirely into your hands.
You crouched slowly, each movement deliberate, your lips hovering mere inches from the bulge in his pants. The tension between you was unbearable, your breath ghosting over the straining fabric, teasing, testing the limits of his control. You lingered there, savoring the way his body reacted—his chest heaving, his fingers twitching at his sides as if restraining himself took every ounce of his will.
Then, with agonizing slowness, you leaned in, pressing a kiss against him through the fabric, the heat of him searing against your lips. Your tongue followed, a languid flick over the barrier of his pants, tasting the faint salt of his anticipation. The sound he made—a guttural, raw groan—sent a shiver through you, his hips jerking involuntarily toward your mouth as though chasing the relief only you could provide.
“Please,” he rasped, his voice raw, wrecked, laced with a desperate edge that made the air between you crackle. Your name fell from his lips, not like a prayer, but like a demand barely restrained, broken and yet brimming with need. His hand moved to your shoulder, tentative at first, then tightening with an urgency that betrayed the control he was struggling to hold onto, his grip firm but trembling. “Don’t stop,” he growled, the words dragging rough and low from his throat, teetering between pleading and commanding, as if he couldn’t decide whether to beg you or take what he wanted.
You’d heard the stories about Jeno—late-night whispers curling through dorm rooms like smoke, tales of a man who didn’t just fuck but ruined people, leaving them trembling, insatiable, chasing after something only he could deliver. He was calculated, relentless, a master of control in every movement, every breath. He took his time, they said, dragging you to the edge and keeping you there until your entire body begged for release. His prowess clung to him like a second skin, an invisible crown he wore without effort, without arrogance. You’d seen it, felt it even now—the way his presence wrapped around you, heavy and suffocating, like the air itself couldn’t ignore him. He made you want to step closer, to see if the promises in his gaze were true, or to push him away just to prove you didn’t need him.
But tonight, those promises didn’t matter. You knew why he wanted this, and it had nothing to do with you. His bruised pride wasn’t subtle; it burned off him like smoke from a fire, stoked higher by the sting of losing Areum. This wasn’t about desire—it was about power. About proving to himself that he could still have anything, anyone, if he just reached for it. And if he thought you’d give him that satisfaction? That you’d unravel for him because he leaned in close, whispered your name like a secret, and let his lips hover just out of reach?
Not a chance.
You lingered, lips brushing against the fabric one last time, deliberately slow, leaving the faintest trace of your warmth. The act was intimate and deliberate, each second dragged out until the tension in the air felt unbearable. Straightening, you let your gaze lock with his, the smirk tugging at your lips daring and victorious, a reminder that you controlled this moment. “Maybe next time,” you murmured, your voice soft yet dripping with authority, a silken dismissal that cut deeper than words should.
With a casual motion, you wiped your hands on your jeans, an effortless contrast to the chaos you’d ignited in him, and turned to leave. Each step was unhurried, your exit deliberate, knowing he wouldn’t—couldn’t—look away. Just as your hand touched the doorframe, an instinct made you pause. You glanced back over your shoulder, and the sight that greeted you was nothing short of devastating.
Jeno was undone. His head was tipped back against the wall, his chest rising and falling in uneven, labored breaths. His lips parted, releasing quiet, wrecked groans, each sound more raw than the last. One hand braced against the wall as if anchoring himself, his knuckles white, while the other was buried beneath the waistband of his pants, his movements slow and desperate, chasing the edge you’d left him teetering on.
The sight was primal, magnetic, every inch of him radiating a vulnerability you’d never expected, and for a brief moment, you hesitated, letting it sear into your memory. But you didn’t stay. You didn’t need to. The image of him—wrecked, ruined, and completely at your mercy—would linger with you long after you left, his soft groans trailing behind you like a confession as you disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.
jihyo — y/n, are you asleep?
The screen glared back at you, her message cutting through the fog of your thoughts. You didn’t respond, didn’t even let yourself process it, just locked the screen and slipped your phone back into your pocket. She must’ve messaged you by mistake, you told yourself. Tonight wasn’t your night to deal with anyone’s chaos but your own.
You didn’t need to turn back to know exactly where he was—still against the wall, hand working desperately beneath his waistband, chasing what you’d denied him. By the time the night was over, you had no doubt he’d bury himself in someone else, finding release in another body, someone who’d give in without hesitation. That was Jeno’s way—fast, raw, and detached, his pleasure stripped of meaning. But tonight, you weren’t going to be his easy satisfaction, his fleeting indulgence. You could feel it in the charged air you’d left behind, in the weight of his need you refused to satisfy. Let someone else fall into his orbit; you weren’t going to be another mark on his tally.
Slipping past the crowded living room, you kept your head low, avoiding the glances of anyone who might stop you. Your chest tightened as you moved, the apartment’s maze-like corridors taunting you with their sharp turns and identical doors. It felt like you’d never find the exit, like the building itself was conspiring to keep you there. But then, finally, a side door appeared, half-hidden by shadows, and you slipped through it like a fugitive.
The cool night air hit you like a blessing, the weight in your chest easing as you stepped into the quiet. The contrast was stark—inside was a war zone, outside was stillness. The distant hum of city life felt surreal, as if it belonged to a different world entirely.
You glanced around, scanning for any sign of Jeno. His car was still parked where it had been earlier, a sleek black beacon in the dim light. Relief flooded through you; he hadn’t followed. He was still inside, probably oblivious to the fact that you were already gone.
But then your eyes caught something—someone—further down the street. A gasp escaped you before you could stop it, your body freezing as you recognized the figure leaning against a car. Mark. His familiar frame was impossible to miss, even from this distance. Your breath hitched, and instinctively, you stepped back into the shadows, your heart racing. He didn’t see you—his entire focus was on Areum, who stood close beside him. Too close.
They looked… intimate. His hand brushed hers briefly, his posture tilted toward her like he was trying to comfort her. She looked upset, her expression barely visible from where you stood, but the way Mark leaned in, the way their bodies angled toward each other—it told a story you weren’t sure you wanted to know.
Mark and Areum? The thought twisted in your chest as you watched them climb into his car together. You didn’t even realize it had gotten to this point. Whispers from the party earlier floated back to you, snippets of gossip you’d brushed off at the time.
“Did you see Mark leave with Areum?”
“Jeno’s ex hooking up with his rival? Wild.”
You’d dismissed them as rumors, exaggerated drunken chatter—but now the evidence was staring you in the face.
The night felt heavier than before as you called for an Uber, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed in the address. You were drained, every part of you screaming to go home, to crawl into bed and pretend none of this had happened. But as you climbed into the car, your phone buzzed again.
jihyo — hey, can you come over? i really need you right now.
You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the screen, the message from Jihyo burning into your mind like an unspoken demand. You weren’t scheduled tonight. You didn’t have to go. College loomed in the morning, the weight of deadlines and responsibilities already pressing down on you, a sharp reminder of how tightly you’d orchestrated every detail of your life. Structure was your safety net—plans meticulously crafted to keep chaos at bay. But tonight had already upended all of that. Jeno’s touch still lingered like a bruise on your resolve, the firestorm of his presence leaving cracks in the walls you’d built so carefully. To go now would be a departure from everything you tried to hold steady. And yet, staying meant sitting in the wreckage of a night you couldn’t undo, letting it fester.
jihyo — i’ll pay extra. trust me. it’s important.
You exhaled sharply, Jihyo’s words cutting through the exhaustion draped over you, but igniting something buried deeper, something restless. The money mattered, sure, but that wasn’t what made your pulse quicken. Those nights had their own gravity, pulling you into a space where everything sharpened—where the lines blurred between control and chaos, between exhibition and escape. It wasn’t just the thrill of stepping into that world; it was the power it gave you, the way it stripped everything raw. Eyes watching you, wanting you, yet never able to touch what you didn’t allow—it wasn’t just a distraction. It was a reckoning, a way to take back what the day, the world, or even Jeno had tried to steal. It left you electric, a storm gathering force, untouchable yet so dangerously alive.
you — fine. on my way.
The driver glanced back as you changed the destination, his expression unreadable, but you ignored it. No rest for you—not tonight. You were already in the storm; you might as well keep going. The car merged onto the main road, the city lights blurring past the window as you braced yourself for what came next.
The door clicked shut behind you, swallowing the last remnants of the outside world and plunging you into the bar’s embrace—a space carved out of darkness, hedonism, and heat. Smoke coiled through the air, not lazy but purposeful, weaving tendrils that clung to your skin like an invisible hand, teasing your senses. The low hum of neon lights pulsed overhead, bathing everything in shades of crimson and cobalt, the colors spilling across the room like spilled wine—dark, intoxicating, and staining everything it touched. Shadows played along the walls, stretching and shifting, hinting at secrets shared in low whispers and heavy gazes.
The leather booths gleamed like ink under the sultry glow, their deep cushions practically inviting bodies to sink into them, to forget everything but the pleasure of proximity. Tables stood scattered like forgotten lovers, their polished surfaces catching flashes of light, betraying the careless fingerprints of those who came here to taste sin and leave nothing behind. The floor, slick and reflective, mirrored the sharp heels of women striding past, the flex of muscle beneath fitted suits, and the languid movements of hands resting too low on thighs.
Behind the bar, rows of bottles glinted like trophies in a predator’s lair, their contents catching the light in amber and emerald hues. The faint clink of glasses, the steady rhythm of liquid pouring into crystal, blended into the room’s soundtrack—an undercurrent of murmured conversations and occasional bursts of low laughter. A mirror stretched across the back wall, catching glimpses of sweat-slick necks, the curve of lips wrapping around the rim of a glass, and the hollow of throats exposed as heads tipped back to swallow.
The air was heavy, oppressive, but not stifling—a perfect, suffocating warmth designed to coax bodies closer. It reeked of whiskey, sweat, and the faintest trace of musk, an unrelenting mixture that clung to your nostrils, seeping into your lungs with every breath. The scent mingled with something sharper, darker, primal—a promise of bodies pressing together in shadowed corners, of hands gripping too tight, of mouths tasting what they shouldn’t.
Everywhere you looked, the bar seemed alive—alive in the way a predator watches its prey. Velvet curtains hung in uneven folds along the far wall, their deep red fabric glowing under the faint light, hinting at spaces hidden behind them where the rules of this room didn’t apply. Low-slung chandeliers dripped with chains instead of crystal, their edges sharp, casting fractured shadows that danced like foreplay across bare skin and rumpled clothes. A faint graffiti scrawled along the wood near the booths read like confessions of sins past, promises unfulfilled, and moments stolen.
This was nothing like the chaos of a college party; there was no raucous laughter or frenzied energy here. This was curated, intentional—a realm of indulgence and raw tension, crafted for those who came searching for something darker. This wasn’t just a bar; it was a temple to indulgence, to raw, carnal desire. Everything about it whispered permission—permission to touch, to taste, to lose yourself. The air itself felt alive, pressing into you, pushing boundaries you didn’t even know you had. The faint vibration from the bassline crawled up your legs, a visceral reminder of where you were and what this place demanded. It wasn’t just a space—it was a promise, a provocation, daring you to step further into its embrace.
Jihyo caught your gaze the moment you approached. She was a force of nature, her grungy, tattooed frame exuding authority. Dark hair fell in lazy waves around her sharp features, her lips curled into a smirk that carried no softness. She leaned against the bar, one hand braced on the counter as she handed off a glass to a waiting customer without breaking eye contact. Her fitted black tank revealed toned arms, and the silver rings on her fingers reflected the neon haze. “Don’t keep them waiting,” she muttered, her voice low but loaded with intent.
You didn’t respond. There was no need. You knew your role here, the unspoken contract that hung between the two of you like smoke in the air. You moved with precision, slipping through the crowd. Men in tailored suits and loosened ties leaned into their drinks, their gazes heavy with expectation but never once settling on you. They didn’t see you now. You were invisible until you chose not to be. You recognized some of them, regulars whose eyes would burn with recognition the moment the lights hit you. But for now, they were just part of the background.
The hallway to the back room was narrow, quieter, the sound of faint music pulsing in your ears as you stepped inside. The dressing room was small, unassuming. A rack of costumes hung to the side, their vibrant, provocative fabrics glinting faintly under the overhead light. You moved quickly, shedding your everyday clothes with the kind of efficiency that came from practice.
Your outfit was more skin than fabric—a two-piece ensemble of black and crimson lace. The top clung to you like a second skin, the delicate material dipping low enough to frame the swell of your breasts, daring anyone to look closer. The thin straps looped over your shoulders, leaving your back bare, the lace barely covering anything more than necessary. The matching bottoms were scandalous—a high-cut thong that left the curve of your ass exposed, with sheer panels running down your hips. Over-the-knee stockings in the same black lace hugged your thighs, the faint shimmer catching the light. Heels completed the look, sleek and deadly, adding inches to your already commanding presence.
You slipped a sheer cover over the outfit as you stepped out, the translucent material doing nothing to hide the boldness of what lay beneath. The contrast between this version of you and the one who existed outside these walls was stark, but here, you owned it. The weight of the outfit, the makeup, the stage—it wasn’t a mask. It was power, weaponized and perfected.
The air thickened as you moved back toward the main floor, clinging to your skin with an almost tangible heat that promised indulgence. Every detail of the bar seemed alive—the low murmur of conversations, the rhythmic click of glasses meeting wood, and the bassline vibrating through the floor, steady as a pulse. You stepped into it seamlessly, the chaos bending around you, feeding into your calm. This was your world, a place where you thrived, where the night was yours to command.
Jihyo lounged against the bar like she owned not just the room but the energy pulsing through it. Her ripped jeans sat low on her hips, the cropped leather jacket hinting at smooth, taut skin beneath. Her dark waves fell just past her shoulders, intentionally messy, as if the chaos of the bar itself had shaped her. She didn’t need to posture; her presence was enough—a sharp contrast to the haze of smoke and dim light around her. Her eyes locked on you, assessing with the precision of someone who knew the stakes. “About time,” she said, her voice low and cutting, designed to carry. “They’ve been waiting. Don’t make me regret it.”
You offered her a faint smirk, slipping through the crowd with ease. Hands reached out, voices murmuring things you didn’t bother deciphering. They were just noise. You were above it. You were untouchable—at least until the lights hit you, and then you’d become something else entirely.
The room shifted as you stepped onto the stage, a low thrum of noise rippling through the crowd like an electric charge. The smoky haze wrapped around you, thick and deliberate, distorting the neon reds and blues into streaks of fire and ice against the darkened corners of the bar. Men filled the space—leaned against the bar, lounged in leather booths, or stood near the stage, their gazes following you with blatant hunger. Some whistled, some cheered, their voices cutting through the murmur of clinking glasses and low conversations. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t need to. This was your territory, a place where their attention didn’t intimidate but fueled you.
Your outfit wasn’t just something you wore—it was a part of the performance, inseparable from the electric guitar slung across your body. The black lace and bold straps didn’t merely adorn you; they claimed their place under the lights, commanding attention as much as you did. Over it, the sheer slip clung to your frame, translucent in a way that revealed just enough to tempt, every line of your body hinted at with a calculated elegance meant to provoke. It wasn’t meant to conceal—just the opposite. It was a challenge, an invitation for their imaginations to linger, to want it gone, to fantasize about tearing it from you. But you kept it on, a barrier as much as a weapon, daring them to think they could earn the right to see what lay beneath.
The plunging neckline framed you like a spotlight, drawing attention to every deliberate curve, while your thighs, bare except for the sheen of thigh-high stockings, seemed to catch the glow of the lights as if the stage itself bent to your command. The guitar rested against your hips like it belonged there, its sleek design a mirror to your presence—bold, unapologetic, and impossible to ignore. Each strike of your boots against the floor resonated through the room, not just a sound but a signal, an assertion of control. The stage lights burned hotter here, casting shadows that danced across your bare skin, accentuating the sharp edge of your makeup—smoldering eyes framed by dark liner, crimson lips curving with intent, and cheekbones kissed with gold, gleaming like a challenge to the crowd below.
This wasn’t the controlled environment of a college performance. This was raw, unfiltered life. Jihyo’s bar wasn’t for the faint of heart—this was a world that thrived on indulgence, a crucible of lust and longing. For a music major accustomed to structured critiques and the polite applause of recitals, this was the ultimate test—no safety nets, no scripted feedback, just raw energy and the unspoken challenge to dominate the room. You’d spent nights here, studying its rhythm, commanding its energy, bending its wild currents to your will. Tonight would be no different.
The stage was intimate but powerful, elevated just enough to force their gazes upward, demanding their attention. You draped the guitar strap over your shoulder, the motion deliberate, a slow sweep of control that carried through the room. Fingers lingered over the microphone as you adjusted it, the faint scrape of metal against your palm drawing their focus like a spark in the dark. The subtle glint of your rings caught the light, a quiet accent to your movements that added an edge of elegance, of authority. The crowd stirred, their energy thickening as you struck a single note, the low, resonant hum rolling through the air and settling deep in their chests. Conversation stilled, eyes locked on you, the weight of their anticipation pressing against your skin. You felt it—the shift, the slipping of the everyday you into something sharper, bolder, untouchable. The stage demanded it, and you gave in, letting the persona settle over you like armor, every movement calculated to feed the tension until it was yours to command.
The first chords came slow, deliberate, matching the rhythm of your pulse. Your voice slipped into the room like smoke, low and melodic, pulling their attention closer, deeper. The lyrics dripped from your lips, edgy and provocative, laced with innuendo that lingered just long enough to make them wonder. This wasn’t just a performance—it was control. You let your hips sway in time with the beat, the thin straps of your outfit shifting with each movement, teasing the audience, daring them to want more.
For the first few minutes, you kept to the plan—a carefully orchestrated set that teetered on the edge of seduction without ever tipping over. The bar hummed with its usual energy, smoky and intimate, the kind of place where regulars stayed long enough to blur the line between night and morning. It wasn’t the sort of place anyone stumbled into; it was hidden, unmarked, known only to those who needed its refuge. That was why you came—because the world outside couldn’t find you here. No familiar faces. No unexpected encounters. Just you, the stage, and the pull of the crowd.
Your eyes flitted across the room as you moved, your guitar humming low against your body. The regulars were in their usual places—men leaning back in leather booths, their gazes fixed on you with a hunger you knew how to wield. They didn’t intimidate you; they gave you power, their expectations feeding your confidence as you leaned into the mic, your voice curling around the lyrics like smoke.
But then, the door creaked open.
Your brow furrowed, your fingers faltering over the strings for a split second before you recovered. No one ever walked in this late. The bar wasn’t the kind of place that welcomed wanderers or drew in curious strangers. This was a den for the initiated, a haven for those who knew its rhythms. You cast a glance toward the entrance, the faint glow from the streetlights outside cutting through the haze for a moment. And there he was.
The moment your eyes caught his, it was like the room contracted, pulling all its weight into that single point. Jeno. His name wasn’t a thought—it was a sensation, crawling down your spine and sinking low into your stomach. You didn’t look away, though every nerve in your body begged you to. His gaze was steady, unrelenting, a tether you hadn’t agreed to but couldn’t break.
Your stomach coiled, your pulse stuttering with a certainty that was both sharp and undeniable: he wasn’t supposed to be here. He couldn’t be. This wasn’t some calculated move on his part, no deliberate hunt to corner you after the chaos of the party. He hadn’t followed you—you’d left him where he stood, undone and occupied, and this bar wasn’t the kind of place anyone stumbled into without intention. It wasn’t just hidden; it was deliberately unmarked, an enclave you’d chosen for its anonymity. Here, you existed beyond recognition, beyond anyone’s reach. Yet now, his presence fractured that carefully built illusion, the one you’d relied on to ensure this life stayed separate from the other.
He took a seat at the far end of the bar, the kind of spot that seemed designed to swallow a man whole. The broken neon light above flickered unevenly, throwing his sharp features into alternating patches of crimson and stark white. It was a seat of contradictions—a beacon and a shadow, a throne and a confession booth—its placement isolated but deliberate, as if it had been waiting for him. Smoke coiled lazily through the air, softening the sharp angles of his leather jacket, but nothing could dull the weight of his presence. He fit too well here, as though the atmosphere itself bent around him, drawn to the tension coiled in his frame.
The leather creaked faintly under him as he leaned back, his hand curling loosely around a glass of whiskey, its amber surface catching the flicker of light. He didn’t slouch; his posture was a restrained defiance, his shoulders pulled back with just enough tension to suggest a man holding himself together by a thread. The muscles in his jaw shifted, a faint tic betraying the storm behind his calm exterior. He moved like he belonged here, like the low hum of the bar’s indulgent haze was something he had mastered—but you knew better. This wasn’t his world; he hadn’t been here before. And yet, the way his fingers traced the rim of his glass, the calculated ease of his movements, made it feel like he had already claimed it as his own. It was unnerving how natural he looked in a place that thrived on artifice.
His hair was the first thing you noticed, even in the dim lighting—black with streaks of dark blonde, each strand catching the faint neon glow as though it had been deliberately placed to draw the eye. The contrast was intoxicating, rebellion and refinement fused together. The black served as the perfect base, rich and glossy, grounding him in something darker, while the golden highlights shimmered like fleeting promises, perfectly framing the cut of his cheekbones and the line of his jaw. The layers of his hair were deliberate, falling in a way that suggested he’d just run his fingers through it moments before stepping inside, each strand a statement of effortless chaos.
His outfit demanded attention. The brown leather jacket clung to his shoulders, every crease and fold amplifying the lean muscle beneath. It was open, revealing a ribbed white tank that hugged his torso, the fabric stretched taut over the hard planes of his chest. A silver chain rested in the hollow of his throat, glinting faintly as he shifted, the simple accessory exuding a quiet power. His pants, black and tailored, sat low on his hips, sharp lines accentuating the languid grace of his movements. Everything about him felt polished but raw, as if he carried chaos beneath his skin, barely restrained.
He exuded a magnetism that didn’t beg for attention—it commanded it. The sharp line of his jaw flexed subtly, tension coiled beneath the surface, hinting at a storm he kept firmly restrained. His gaze, dark and deliberate, moved through the room like a current, assessing and discarding with a precision that felt unnervingly purposeful. The faint clink of the glass in his hand punctuated the stillness around him, his fingers gripping the rim with a controlled force that betrayed the energy thrumming beneath his composed exterior. Every motion, from the subtle shift of his shoulders to the way he leaned just slightly forward, felt charged, deliberate, as though the space bent to accommodate him. It wasn’t restlessness—it was calculated patience, a quiet certainty that wherever he looked, the room would eventually meet him on his terms.
Your gaze caught him from the corner of your eye, but you knew he didn’t see you. Not really. The dim lighting played tricks, the haze of smoke blurring edges and muting details. You were cloaked in stage lights, your face and body transformed by the bold makeup, the provocative outfit, and the sheer persona you wore like armor. This wasn’t the girl he’d argued with at the party or Coach Suh’s office or the girl who left him gasping against the wall. You were someone else here—a performer, a presence, a force he couldn’t yet name.
His gaze skimmed past you at first, hungry but detached, as if you were just another face in the haze of smoke and dim light. He wasn’t really seeing you—not yet. His focus drifted the way it did with the other women in the bar, drawn to the stage out of instinct rather than intent. Lost in the pull of his drink and the muted hum of the room, he seemed adrift, the alcohol softening the sharp edges of his attention. For a fleeting moment, you felt an unfamiliar sense of relief. He didn’t know it was you—not under the glare of the stage lights, not with the veil of makeup and the electric energy you wore like armor. It granted you a power you hadn’t anticipated—the freedom to hold his gaze on your terms, unburdened by history or expectations.
But then, something shifted. It was subtle at first—a flicker in his expression, the faint crease of his brow as his eyes lingered just a second too long. There was a rhythm in the way you moved, a note in your voice, the precise way your fingers danced over the guitar strings—it pulled at something buried in his subconscious. The realization unfolded in pieces, each one hitting him harder than the last. His body froze, the glass in his hand stilled mid-motion, and his chest heaved with a single, sharp breath. And then it hit him fully, recognition breaking over him like a storm, his eyes locking onto yours with a weight that made your pulse skip.
Your lips curved into a private smirk, the tilt of your head deliberate, daring him to come to terms with what he was seeing. His eyes burned now, no longer detached but heavy with something deeper—lust sharpened by disbelief, an attraction laced with a hunger that felt almost territorial. He leaned forward, his glass forgotten, every line of his body drawn taut as though the air itself had become charged with electricity. His chest rose in deliberate, uneven breaths, as if he were trying to steady himself but failing under the weight of his own realization.
The noise of the bar faded into the background, the cheers and whistles from the crowd mere static. For you, there was only his gaze, and the way it pierced through you with an intensity that left you breathless. For the first time, you felt seen—not just looked at but truly seen. And it wasn’t just the desire in his eyes; it was something raw and deeply personal, something none of the other men in the room could offer you.
His hand flexed once against the bar, as if grounding himself, but the motion was futile. There was something magnetic in the way his gaze locked onto yours, something unrelenting. It wasn’t just his attention—it was possession, unspoken yet impossible to ignore. His lips parted slightly, as though words might follow, but they never came. Instead, his silence spoke louder, the tightening of his jaw and the dark flicker in his eyes unraveling you piece by piece.
But nothing would ever make you lose focus. Focus. Be the performer now. Forget the party. Forget him. The voice in your head tried to command your body, but it was a losing battle with the way his attention clung to you like a second skin. The crowd roared as one of the regulars broke the tension, his voice cutting through the smoky air with a drunken “Woo! Take it off!”
You tilted your head toward the mic, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “Maybe…” you murmured, your voice dripping with a sensual lilt, “if you tip enough.” The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers, the noise folding into itself like waves crashing against the shore, but it only served to highlight the stark silence from him. Jeno didn’t laugh, didn’t cheer—his eyes were fixed, his gaze heavy, his jaw tightening as though trying to hold something back.
The stage had always been a metaphor for your liberation—a place where control didn’t mean confinement but something far more powerful. You weren’t the neat, restrained observer the rest of the world thought you were. Up here, you owned the chaos, commanded the energy, and embraced the wildness that simmered beneath the surface. This wasn’t about pleasing them; it was about owning yourself.
And tonight, as you teased the slip off your shoulders, it wasn’t just about the crowd. It was about him—about the way he looked at you, like he was unraveling piece by piece, like you had shattered everything he thought he knew. You’d never stripped on stage before; you didn’t need to. But this was your stage, your rules, your power. And for the first time, you wanted to see what it would feel like to take it further, to step into that raw, unapologetic space you’d always hovered just outside of.
Plus, you liked the way Jeno was looking at you.
That was all the reason you needed, the spark igniting something bold, something unrestrained inside you. Your breath caught for a fleeting second, but you didn’t falter. Instead, you leaned into the tension, letting it coil and settle around you like a second skin. His recognition fed your confidence, the weight of his gaze fanning a fire you hadn’t realized you were ready to set loose.
Slowly, deliberately, your fingers hooked under the edge of the sheer slip, the movement deliberate enough to pull every eye toward you. The fabric slid from your shoulders, cascading down in a soft, sinful whisper until it pooled at your feet. The crowd erupted, their cheers slicing through the haze like a knife, but it all dissolved into nothingness. None of it mattered—not the noise, not the lights, not the sea of faces below.
The moment was yours, and you owned it completely.
Jeno didn’t move, didn’t blink. His gaze locked onto yours, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, as though the air between you had grown too thick to inhale. Unlike the others—whistling, shouting, drunk on the spectacle—he was silent, his reaction starkly different from the intoxicating frenzy around him. It wasn’t the kind of hunger that screamed for attention or demanded more; it was quiet, devastating, consuming.
His eyes trailed the line of your body like a slow burn, lingering on every curve with a heat that made your skin feel bare in ways the crowd couldn’t match. And when you had stripped into nothing but the lingerie you had on, his gaze didn’t shift, didn’t darken into a baser territory like the others. It remained steady, unwavering, as though he wasn’t seeing less of you but more, something deeper, something only he could touch. It was intimate, maddening, as if he’d reached straight through the noise and lights and found the parts of you no one else could.
You tilted your head again, the strands of your hair sliding under the stage lights, catching glimmers of red and gold as though even the air around you conspired to accentuate your movements. Each shift of your body became calculated, a weapon wielded against the unrelenting intensity of his gaze. The slow roll of your hips was no longer just part of the rhythm—it was deliberate, provocative, designed to make him feel the weight of your control. His eyes followed every curve, every tilt, as though mapping out the exact places where his restraint would falter. And falter it did. His posture betrayed him—leaning forward slightly, his chest expanding with a breath that seemed too sharp for the smoke-filled room. His gaze dragged over your bare shoulders, lingering at the delicate way your fingers toyed with the edge of your slip.
Your hand slid down the mic stand in a languid motion, the small gesture enough to draw his attention downward before you reclaimed it with the arch of your back, the subtle twist of your waist. The lace of your outfit glinted in the light, a fleeting tease that dared him to imagine what it concealed—and what it didn’t. Your fingers danced along the strings of the guitar, the low, sultry hum of sound coaxing the room to quiet, but it wasn’t the music that had him transfixed. It was you, owning the stage and pulling him into a space where he was no longer just a man nursing a drink—he was your audience, your captive. Every breath he took felt heavier, charged, the grip of his hand on the bar white-knuckled and desperate for stability. But his hunger for you was anything but stable.
And then, you parted your lips—a soft, teasing exhale that hovered in the air like an unspoken promise. It wasn’t a lyric, not yet, but the anticipation it stirred was palpable. His chest rose and fell with a rhythm too uneven to be casual, the lines of his jaw tightening as though bracing himself against something inevitable. The heat between you burned brighter, sharper, the distance between stage and bar dissolving in the heavy weight of his stare. Whatever barrier you’d maintained before now felt irrelevant, shattered under the pressure of the moment. His expression shifted, the raw hunger in his eyes replaced by something even more consuming—a blend of want and need that left you unsteady for just a second. But only for a second. Because the power was yours, and you weren’t done with him yet.
For a second, the world stilled, and it was just the two of you—no stage, no crowd, just the raw, unfiltered connection that burned between you like a live wire. His silence spoke louder than the shouts around him, his eyes a promise, a challenge, a plea wrapped in desire. He was unraveling. For the first time, it felt like the entire performance was for one man, and you leaned into that, letting your body speak what words couldn’t, knowing he was the only one who truly understood.
It was in the way he looked at you—like he’d been the one peeling the slip from your shoulders, his gaze dragging over every inch of exposed skin with an unbearable intensity. It wasn’t just watching—it was devouring, a slow, deliberate claiming of space between you, charged with a hunger that felt almost dangerous. Every shift of your body made his focus darker, heavier, sharper, as though the world around him had dissolved and all that remained was you—bare, commanding, untouchable, and somehow still completely his.
With the last hum of your guitar, the applause crescendos, swelling to fill every crevice of the dimly lit bar, but it barely registers in your mind. Your gaze remains fixed on him, as though tethered by something neither of you can name. Jeno stands near the edge of the room, the smoky haze and flickering neon light carving out sharp lines in his features. His eyes, dark and unrelenting, don’t waver from you, and in the space between your final note and the eruption of cheers, the world tilts, just slightly, aligning you both on the same magnetic plane.
As the sound begins to fade, you slip the thin, translucent layer of fabric back over your shoulders, a deliberate act that feels like a dare. Jeno doesn’t blink, his gaze dragging over the slip as though he’d stripped it away himself and was now punishing himself by watching it return. The weight of it settles over your skin like silk, but the fire in his eyes burns through every layer, searing into you. Your pulse quickens—not because of the applause or the tips that litter the stage—but because of him.
Jihyo gestures wildly from the side, mouthing, “What the fuck are you doing?” You see her, hear her command, but your body moves before your mind can catch up. There’s no logic to it, no plan—only the magnetic pull that drags you forward, deeper into something you know you shouldn’t want. You’re supposed to stay put, bask in the aftermath, rake in tips, flash smiles, but none of it matters. Not when he’s there. Not when the fire in his gaze makes your skin burn in ways applause never could. He isn’t just a prize; he’s a temptation, glittering and dangerous, something you should leave untouched but can’t help craving. Every step closer feels like surrender, like giving in to the bad habit you’ve tried to quit but never truly wanted to. You know better. You can’t stand him, he’s insufferable. He’s made Mark’s life a living hell, torn through everything steady and safe, leaving nothing but chaos in his wake but the ache inside you wants more—wants him.
You step off the stage, moving through the crowded floor, your steps drawn toward him as if the pull between you is something tangible. He moves, too, cutting through the maze of bodies in your direction, but the path isn’t easy. The press of people closes in around you, and suddenly, you’re intercepted.
“Let me buy you a drink, sweet thing,” a slurred voice murmurs, too close, as a hand slides to your waist.
Your smile is polite but forced as you step out of reach. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
He doesn’t take the hint, his fingers grazing lower. The tension in the room shifts, heightened, buzzing in your veins. You glance at Jeno, who has stopped, his jaw set, his hands flexing at his sides. There’s a storm in his eyes, a crackling intensity that makes the room feel smaller, hotter, and infinitely more dangerous.
“I said I’m fine,” you repeat, sharper now, but the drunk man is insistent, leaning closer, his breath heavy with whiskey.
Your gaze snaps back to Jeno, drawn as if by instinct, a fleeting glance that feels more like a confession than a look. His eyes meet yours, dark and commanding, a silent pull that roots you in place and sends your pulse spiraling. The air between you crackles, and before you can think, before reason has any hope of catching up, the words spill from your lips, soft and breathless, like they’ve been waiting there all along.
“My boyfriend wouldn’t like that.”
The air shifts again as Jeno moves with an ease that feels almost too deliberate, each step closing the space between you with unbearable tension. His focus is razor-sharp, cutting through the chaos around him, but it’s not the crowd he sees—it’s you. The heat in his eyes doesn’t waver, doesn’t drift; it pins you where you stand, as if daring you to look away. The curve of his mouth, the set of his shoulders, the way his body shifts with purpose—it all draws you in, tightening something low in your stomach. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t falter, as though every motion was designed to pull you closer. By the time he reaches you, you’re caught entirely in his orbit, and the man beside you barely exists in the wake of his presence.
“Hi, baby,” Jeno says, his voice smooth, unhurried, as if the word was made for him. He slips into the role so naturally it startles you, an ease you didn’t expect. His hand finds your waist like it belongs there, his fingers curling just enough to anchor you to him. The motion isn’t rushed or hesitant—it’s grounding, a quiet declaration. His eyes hold yours with a warmth that burns slow, the kind of gaze that makes it impossible to look anywhere else. “You were incredible tonight,” he murmurs, his voice dipping lower, softer, like he’s letting you in on something meant only for you. “The whole room couldn’t take their eyes off you. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, but it’s the subtle ways he moves—angling his body to shield you from the drunk man, the slight press of his fingers against your waist—that catch you off guard. There’s a thoughtfulness in the way he takes off his black jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, the gesture unspoken but so deliberate it feels like second nature. The fabric settles around you like an unspoken promise, heavier than the air around you and infinitely more secure.
He leans closer, his breath brushing your ear, his lips grazing the shell just enough to make your stomach flip. His voice drops, a quiet rumble only for you. “Boyfriend, huh?” There’s a faint, teasing curve to his words, but beneath it lies something deeper, sharper. “I like the sound of that.”
Before you can respond, the drunk man speaks again, his tone laced with disbelief. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. I’d know if you did.”
You arch a brow, your voice steady but razor-sharp. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
He scoffs, stepping forward as if to challenge you, but Jeno moves faster. He turns, his hand sliding up to cradle your face, and then his lips are on yours.
The kiss crashes over you, fierce and unrelenting, pulling you under its weight and leaving you breathless. His mouth crashes onto yours with a heat that burns through every barrier. His hand fists in your hair, tugging just hard enough to draw a gasp from you, your lips parting instinctively as his tongue sweeps in. The taste of him is intoxicating—warm, electric, and maddeningly assertive as he deepens the kiss without hesitation, claiming every inch of you with each deliberate stroke. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his top, yanking him closer, your body pressed so tight against his you can feel the flex of his chest against yours.
His teeth catch your bottom lip, biting down just enough to send a shudder ripping through you, before he soothes the sting with a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue. A low, guttural moan escapes from deep in his throat, vibrating against your lips, and the sound makes your knees weaken. His free hand slides down your spine, the heat of his palm branding your bare skin. His fingers skim lower, gripping at the curve of your ass where nothing but the thin band of your thong separates you from him. He squeezes hard, possessive and unapologetic, pulling you even tighter against him until there’s no space left between your bodies.
The kiss grows filthier, wetter, his tongue tangling with yours in a rhythm that’s as desperate as it is deliberate. Each drag of his lips against yours feels like fire, each press of his hands against your body a silent command. You meet him with equal hunger, your nails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck as you tug him down, urging him to keep going, to take more. His groans deepen, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he angles his head, capturing your mouth harder, deeper, like he’s devouring you.
His hands roam without restraint—one slipping to continue to knead the bare flesh of your ass, fingers pressing into your skin, the other sliding back up to cradle your face as though to keep you exactly where he wants you. You moan into his mouth, the sound shameless, and his lips curve against yours in response, his control faltering for just a moment as he bites down on your lip again, harder this time. The sting only heightens the need coursing through you, your body arching into him, chasing his heat.
The world falls away entirely, the noise of the bar drowned out by the wet, erotic sounds of your lips and the desperate gasps that escape between kisses. Time stretches, warps, until the only thing that exists is him—the scrape of his teeth, the slide of his tongue, the way his hands hold you like he never wants to let go. When you finally break apart, it’s not because either of you wants to stop, but because breathing feels like a necessity. His forehead presses against yours, his breath heavy and uneven as his thumb grazes your cheek. His eyes meet yours, dark and blown wide, and for a moment, it’s as if the whole world is burning just for the two of you.
The drunk man mutters something under his breath before slinking away, but neither of you spare him a glance. The moment is yours, and for the first time, it’s not about riling each other up or gaining control. It’s about surrendering to the pull, to the unspoken connection that’s been building, crackling, waiting to ignite.
Your breath catches, but you don’t look away. The tension crackles louder, sharper, until the only thing you hear is the thrum of your pulse in your ears. You lean in just enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing tonight?”
His lips curl into the faintest smirk, his hand sliding down to rest on the curve of your ass, squeezing possessively. “That depends,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with suggestion. His thumb brushes against your bare skin, teasing. “What are you doing tonight?”
You feel yourself leaning into him, your body responding before your mind can catch up. Your hand slides to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. “You,” you whisper, letting the single word hang in the air, thick and undeniable.
Jeno’s eyes darken further, his grip tightening as he pulls you flush against him, his voice a quiet growl against your lips. “Let’s get out of here.”
The crowd outside dissolves into static as Jeno’s hand wraps firmly around yours, his grip confident, his strides purposeful. He tugs you along without hesitation, his broad shoulders cutting a path toward the front door. There’s no pause, no glance back, like he’s certain you’ll follow, falling effortlessly into step behind him. His fingers tighten, the weight of his presence commanding without effort.
But then your heels dig in. The abrupt resistance jolts through his arm, halting him mid-step. His head snaps around, the motion sharp, confusion clouding the dark intensity of his eyes. “My place,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, the words brushing against the static hum of the night. His free hand finds your waist instinctively, sliding there like a reflex, his grip almost possessive. It lingers, coaxing, as though he’s guiding you forward even now, oblivious to the shift in control already beginning to slip from his grasp.
“Too far,” you murmur, the weight of your words pressing like a palm against his chest. His lips part, as if to argue but you’ve already moved. Your hand slides from his grasp, cool and deliberate, only to knot tightly with his own. Your grip is firm, not a suggestion but a command, and before he can react, you’re steering him down the narrow hallway. The air shifts around you, dim light casting shadows that ripple as your steps quicken. His pace stumbles, caught between following and being pulled, and yet he doesn’t resist. The faint scrape of his shoes against the floor echoes the heat in his gaze—smoldering, restless, entirely at your mercy. Every step you take leaves no room for doubt: you’re leading, and he’s already given in.
By the time you reach your dressing room, the tension between you feels suffocating, a palpable charge in the air that crackles like static. You shove the door open, pulling him in behind you, and with one smooth motion, you kick it shut and turn the lock. The metallic click reverberates through the cramped space, the sound echoing in the silence as your eyes meet his.
The room is small, stifling almost, the faint scent of your perfume mingling with the lingering heat from the performance. Clothes hang haphazardly on a rack against the wall, makeup scattered across the vanity, a worn chair tucked into the corner. But none of it matters. Not when he’s looking at you like that—his chest rising and falling, his lips slightly parted, and that damn smirk pulling at the edges of his mouth.
Your grip on his arms is defiant, a silent refusal to yield, but it doesn’t matter—his strength eclipses yours, sharp and deliberate. In one fluid motion, he spins you, your back meeting the wall with a jarring thud that reverberates down your spine. The cold surface seeps through the thin barrier of fabric, a biting contrast to the heat coursing through you. His body presses into yours, solid and unrelenting, a force you can’t escape, no space spared between the hard planes of his chest and the soft curves of your frame. His presence consumes, each breath he takes pushing against you, every inch of him demanding to be felt, leaving no room to question who’s in control.
His lips pull away from yours, leaving your skin tingling, as if the heat of him has seeped beneath the surface. His breath comes in shallow, ragged bursts as his head tilts back, exposing the taut line of his throat, and his gaze flickers over your shoulder to the wall holding you there. The chipped paint and uneven surface press into your back, a subtle but insistent reminder of how tightly he has you pinned. His eyes shift again, landing on the worn chair by the dressing table, his brow furrowing as though calculating where he’ll take you—against the wall, where you’re trapped under his weight, or on the chair.
The indecision lingers for a heartbeat, thickening the air, but then his gaze snaps back to yours. The hesitation evaporates in a flash, replaced by something darker, hungrier. “Not a bad idea,” he murmurs, his voice low and cutting, its teasing edge sending a jolt through your core. The smirk tugging at his lips deepens, sharp as a knife, and he leans in, reclaiming your mouth with a kiss that’s rough and all-consuming, matching the unrelenting pressure of his body pinning you in place.
This time, he descends on you with a force that borders on reckless, his mouth slanting over yours in a kiss that’s all hunger and demand. There’s nothing careful in the way his lips move—hard and insistent, a clash of teeth and heat, as if he’s determined to strip you down to nothing but raw instinct. His breath mingles with yours, feverish, intoxicating, his confidence threading through every movement like an unspoken dare.
His hands slide over your body, dragging down your sides with a roughness that sets every nerve alight. His fingers curl into your waist, blunt nails digging into the fabric of your dress with just enough force to make you squirm. It’s not just touch—it’s possession, each grip and squeeze leaving your skin hypersensitive, the imprint of him burned into you in ways you’ll still feel tomorrow.
Then, without a word, he shifts. His hands are on your thighs before you realize what he’s doing, spreading wide to anchor your legs as he lifts you effortlessly. The movement is sharp, dizzying, and your breath catches as your body twists mid-air, a startled sound breaking from your throat. Before you can recover, the solid, unyielding surface of the wall meets you again, your chest pressing flat against the cold plaster. The shock bites into your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat still pouring off him as he pins you there.
Your spine arches instinctively, the chill forcing you to react, but his hands are already back on you. They move lower, greedy and deliberate, gripping the curve of your hips, his thumbs pressing hard enough to make your breath stutter. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t ask—he acts, his body crowding yours, his presence so consuming it feels like he’s claiming more than just space.
Jeno’s lips find your neck, his breath scalding as he works his way down with kisses that aren’t soft—they’re bruising, his teeth scraping your skin, his tongue soothing over each bite only to do it again. His hands are everywhere now, mapping the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, before settling on your ass. His grip tightens, fingers kneading and squeezing with a bruising intensity, pulling soft, involuntary moans from your lips.
His breath fans against the back of your neck, his voice low and hoarse as he growls, “Don’t move.” His fingers hook into the thin straps of your thong, tugging them down with maddening slowness, the fabric dragging against your skin until it pools at your feet.
The air shifts, thick with anticipation, before the sharp crack of his palm meeting your bare skin breaks through it. The sting is immediate, fire spreading across your ass as you jolt against the wall. He doesn’t wait for a reaction, his hand smoothing over the heated skin before striking again, harder this time.
You don’t answer, your breath catching as silence stretches between you. The tension snaps with the sharp crack of his palm against your skin, the sting blooming instantly as his hand lingers. “Did you think you could ignore me?” he growls, the sound dark and dangerous, reverberating through the cramped space. He kneads the reddened flesh, his touch rough and possessive, each squeeze leaving your body trembling.
His hand slides lower, slower than before, his fingers grazing the slick heat between your thighs. He moves deliberately, each teasing stroke designed to pull a reaction from you, to remind you who’s in control. A soft gasp escapes your lips despite yourself, and he chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your neck. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, his fingers pressing deeper, claiming more, as his grip on you tightens.
He chuckles darkly, leaning in until his lips brush against your ear. “You’re soaked,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You can pretend you’re not loving this, but your body’s giving you away.” His fingers dip further, gathering your wetness before sliding back up to press against your clit.
The sharp crack of his palm meeting your ass echoes through the room, each strike landing harder and faster, a punishing rhythm that leaves your skin burning under his touch. The sting spreads like wildfire, the heat intensifying with every slap, every deliberate swing of his hand, until the ache becomes something molten, something you can’t help but arch into. His hand lingers between strikes, fingers kneading the soft flesh roughly, possessively, before pulling back to deliver another.
Your breath comes in short, ragged bursts, each exhale jagged as the relentless pace of his punishment leaves your legs trembling. The warmth radiates from where his palm lands, blooming outward and seeping into your core, the pain and pleasure indistinguishable now. His grip on your neck tightens slightly, a grounding force that keeps you pressed firmly against the wall, pinned exactly where he wants you. His fingers dig into the nape of your neck, holding you still as his other hand continues its torment, the cadence unyielding, every movement a silent assertion of control.
“You take it so fucking well,” he mutters, his voice dark, hoarse with arousal. His lips graze the shell of your ear, hot breath spilling across your skin as he lands another sharp slap on your ass. The sound echoes through the room, louder this time, the sting spreading fire through you. “So fucking beautiful—marked up, trembling for me. You take it so well, I can’t get enough of you.”
But he doesn’t see it slipping. With every strike, every grinding roll of his hips, the control he’s convinced he has starts to unravel. His rhythm falters, the confidence in his grip turning just a little hesitant, his actions betraying how lost he is in you, how tightly he’s gripping onto the dynamic he doesn’t realize he’s already lost.
You twist sharply, moving faster than he anticipates, his balance tipping just enough for you to break free. Before he can react, your hands shove him hard, slamming his back against the wall with a thud that leaves him momentarily stunned. His shoulders hit the surface, his breath catching as his lips part, his gaze meeting yours with wide eyes, half-lidded from lust but entirely caught off guard.
Your body presses flush against his, pinning him there, and you don’t give him a second to recover. One hand slides up his chest, slow and deliberate, the pads of your fingers grazing the heat of his skin through the fabric before curling around his throat. Your grip is firm, your thumb pressing against the rapid flutter of his pulse, and his head tilts back instinctively, lips parting in a soft, breathy gasp.
The sharp click of your tongue fills the silence as you tighten your grip on his throat, tilting his chin higher until his eyes meet yours. His breath catches, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts as he struggles to process the sudden shift. “What do you think you’re doing?” you whisper, your voice low and deliberate, a calm veneer masking the storm beneath.
His jaw tenses at the sound, the movement sharp, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. His lips part like he’s about to answer, but all that comes out is a strained, “…Fucking you?” His voice wavers, caught somewhere between confusion and the lingering need that tightens his body against yours.
A slow, mocking laugh spills from your lips, warm and soft against the side of his face as you lean in, your breath brushing his ear. “‘Fucking you?’” you repeat, each syllable dripping with amusement and a condescension that makes his breath stutter. “Is that what you think you’re doing?”
He blinks at you, dumbfounded, his lips still parted as though searching for a retort that refuses to come. Your hands shift, sliding down his chest, your nails grazing over the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric. The touch is slow, almost languid, a deliberate reminder of the control slipping from his hands.
Before he can react, your grip tightens, and with a sharp push, you shove him backward. His body stumbles into the chair behind him—the one tucked neatly in front of your vanity, its chipped wood and faded upholstery an unassuming witness to what’s about to unfold. The wood creaks loudly under his weight as he lands, his legs spreading instinctively, his body folding into a position that leaves him utterly exposed.
Jeno stares up at you, chest heaving, his expression caught between shock and arousal, the sharp edge of his usual confidence dulled by the realization that he’s no longer in control. “Who said you get to control things here?” you ask, stepping between his legs, the heat of your body brushing against his thighs as you lean forward. Your hands grip the arms of the chair, trapping him in place, your face close enough to feel the shallow, uneven rhythm of his breath.
The flicker of defiance in his eyes doesn’t last; it crumbles under the weight of your stare, unrelenting and burning with a fire that leaves no room for argument. You drag your fingers down his chest, each pass slower, heavier, before pressing him firmly back against the chair. The reflection in the vanity mirror catches your attention, the image of him looking up at you—wide-eyed, lips parted, completely at your mercy—only fueling the satisfaction curling low in your stomach.
“Do you think you’re in control tonight?” you whisper, tilting your head just enough for your lips to ghost over the corner of his mouth without fully touching. “Because you’re not. Not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to ruin you.”
Jeno’s groan is immediate, raw and guttural, spilling out like something torn from deep within him. His head tips back against the chair, the tension in his body unraveling in ways he didn’t know were possible. His hands twitch at his sides, hesitating, unsure whether to grip the arms of the chair or reach for you, the uncertainty foreign to someone who has spent his entire life mastering control.
And control is all Jeno has ever known—his constant, unwavering companion. On the court, every move is deliberate, precise; in life, every decision calculated, a performance for everyone watching. Even in bed, he’s always the one steering, leading, dictating. But now, with you standing over him, your eyes sharp, your touch deliberate, and his body pinned beneath the weight of your dominance, that control feels distant, useless, slipping from his grasp like sand through his fingers.
It’s unfamiliar, terrifying—and intoxicating.
His chest heaves with every shallow breath, the tension he’s carried for years fraying at the edges as his body betrays him. He’s never allowed himself to feel this exposed, this vulnerable, but the sight of you towering over him, your fingers sliding lower, commanding his every reaction, sets him alight in ways he didn’t think possible. He’s so used to being the one in charge that the sudden, absolute loss of it is dizzying—and yet, it feeds something buried deep within him, something he didn’t know he craved.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the word half-growled, half-broken as his body shivers beneath your touch. His hips jerk involuntarily, his restraint cracking with every deliberate stroke of your fingers teasing the waistband of his pants. “You don’t even fucking know… what you’re doing to me right now.” His voice is strained, frayed with tension and desire, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “You’ve got me so fucking hard I can’t think straight—can’t think about anything but you.”
Your smirk deepens, the sight of him unraveling beneath you igniting something sharp and primal inside you. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing,” you murmur, your tone soft but laced with unshakable control. Your hands slide lower, grazing the hard, unrelenting line of him through the fabric, and his breath hitches, sharp and loud, filling the small space between you.
You glance down at him, your vantage point offering a view you could never tire of: Lee Jeno, always so composed, always so in control, now trembling beneath your hands. His head tips back, exposing the taut line of his throat, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts as though he’s forgotten how to breathe properly. His lips are parted, swollen and wet, the slightest quiver betraying the effect you have on him. It’s a sight you want to etch into memory—Jeno, stripped of his carefully constructed control, utterly undone by the simplest brush of your touch.
“You know,” you murmur, leaning closer until your lips brush the curve of his jaw, your breath warm against his skin, “I haven’t even fucked you yet.” Your voice is low, teasing, every word deliberate, and you feel the sharp hitch in his breathing as your lips ghost over him. His body tenses beneath your hands, every muscle coiled and trembling as you drag your palms higher along his thighs, grazing the firm muscle beneath, each touch slow and deliberate.
“You haven’t even had my mouth around you,” you continue, your tone soft but dripping with intent, your teeth grazing his jawline before your lips press against it. The first kiss is deliberate, calculated, and when you hear the faintest sound slip from his throat, you press harder. “Haven’t felt me ride you,” you murmur against his skin, trailing lower, your lips finding the sensitive spot just below his ear, “until you can’t think, until you can’t breathe.”
His hands twitch at his sides, his head falling back further, baring his neck to you without thinking, and you take full advantage. Your mouth moves lower, sucking at the skin just above his collarbone, hard enough to leave a mark. His breath stutters, the sound rough and broken as you work your way back up, your teeth scraping the edge of his throat.
“Look at you,” you whisper, your lips brushing over the rapid flutter of his pulse. “You’re already falling apart—and I haven’t even started yet.”
His breath catches, a sharp intake of air that barely makes it past his lips. His voice is rough, breaking as he murmurs, “I know… fuck, I know.” His head tilts further, exposing more of his throat to you, his body trembling under your touch. “You’ve got me so worked up, I can’t—” His words falter, his jaw tightening as a low, guttural groan escapes. “I’ll do whatever you want… just don’t stop.”
“You’re not used to this, are you?” you murmur, your lips brushing against his skin again. “Letting someone else take the lead.” Your tone is soft but cutting, each word a reminder of just how deeply he’s falling into unfamiliar territory.
“No,” he admits, his voice barely audible, his eyes fluttering shut. “But I don’t want you to stop.”
And that’s when you realize—it’s not just desire coursing through him; it’s need. He needs this. Needs the weight lifted from his shoulders, the persona he so carefully wears stripped away, and the relentless pressure to always lead momentarily silenced. You see it in the way his body trembles beneath your touch, his breaths uneven, his hands clenching as though he’s barely holding himself together. And you? You’re more than happy to take it all from him.
With deliberate ease, you lean forward, sliding onto his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs as your weight settles against him. His breath stutters, and his hands instinctively find your hips, gripping them like he needs something to ground himself. “Come here,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and low, even though you’ve already made yourself comfortable in his lap.
You adjust slightly, your hips pressing closer to his, and the contact makes his body tense under yours. Your movements are slow and calculated, your chest brushing against his as you shift, letting him feel the deliberate roll of your body against his. His eyes drop immediately to your chest, his gaze fixated on the swell of your breasts, and you see the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard.
“Jeno,” you call softly, your tone sharp enough to pull his attention back to you. His head snaps up, and his eyes meet yours, wide and glassy with arousal. “Eyes up here,” you tease, your lips curving into a small, knowing smile.
You lean in closer, your hands sliding up to cradle his jaw as you tilt his head back slightly. Your lips press softly against his, the touch so gentle it feels almost out of place in the charged atmosphere between you. His breath catches, and for a moment, he’s still—frozen beneath you like he can’t believe it’s real, like the tenderness is too foreign in a moment so thick with desire.
When he finally responds, it’s hesitant, his lips moving against yours as though he’s afraid the fragile connection might break. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer, his body instinctively seeking more of you. The kiss deepens, soft and slow, and you feel the tension bleeding out of him, the weight he carries melting away as he lets himself sink into the moment.
But as you kiss him, something shifts inside you, the heat between you tempered for just a moment by the vulnerability you feel in his touch. His hesitation, the way he trembles beneath you, makes you pause. Your smirk falters, and you pull back just slightly, your lips brushing against his jaw as your hands slide down to rest on his chest.
Your palms press against him—not demanding, but grounding—and you feel the rapid thud of his heart beneath your fingers. He’s so used to control, to leading, to bearing the weight of expectation. But here, now, he’s unraveling, the walls he’s so carefully built starting to crumble under your hands. And suddenly, you need to know—need to hear him say it.
“Is this what you want?” you ask, your voice quieter now, stripped of the teasing edge you’ve carried so far. It’s raw and unmasked, a question that feels as much about him as it does about you. “Do you want me to lead, Jeno?”
The question hangs between you, the vulnerability in your tone catching him off guard, and for a moment, his breath stills. His eyes meet yours, wide and dark, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost fragile compared to the tension between you. Then, stronger, with a desperate edge: “Yes. Fuck, yes. I need this. I need you.”
The honesty in his voice hits you like a jolt, but you don’t let it show—not fully. Your lips brush his again, firmer this time, as your hands slide lower, teasing over the hard, unrelenting line of him through his pants. His head falls back again, a quiet, desperate groan slipping past his lips.
“You’ve been so good to me tonight, helping me out with those guys earlier” you continue, taking a step closer to him, the heat in your tone softening into something that feels almost like praise. “You deserve something for being such a good boy, don’t you?”
He nods and you take a moment to admire him—flushed, breathless, utterly undone. The sight of him, usually so cocky, now reduced to this trembling, obedient version of himself, sends a wave of satisfaction rushing through you. He’s listening. Actually listening. Not arguing, not resisting, just sitting there, wide-eyed and waiting for your next command.
Your smirk sharpens, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt. You press your palm flat against him, feeling the erratic thud of his heart beneath your hand as you lean in, your dominance radiating in every deliberate movement.
“Then take your pants off,” you say, your voice soft but unyielding, every word laced with heat. You step back, your eyes boring into his, daring him to disobey. “Now.”
His hands move quickly, trembling as he struggles with the waistband of his pants, finally pushing them down just enough to free himself. His cock springs forward, thick and heavy, flushed with need, the sight alone making your breath catch. He’s bigger than you anticipated—bigger than what you’re used to—but you bite down on the flicker of hesitation, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing. You won’t let him see the challenge he presents or give him any room to feel smug.
You step forward, pressing one hand flat against his chest and pushing him back until his shoulders meet the chair. He’s perched at the edge, his legs spread wide, his breath shallow and erratic as he stares at you, his cock standing rigid against his stomach. “You’re going to sit there and take it,” you murmur, your voice low and commanding, the words laced with heat that makes his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.
Lowering yourself onto your knees between his legs, you drag your hands up his thighs, your nails grazing his skin lightly. He shudders beneath your touch, his muscles tensing as you lean in closer. “You’ve been good so far,” you whisper, glancing up at him, your voice teasing but firm. “Let’s see if you can stay that way.”
His breath hitches as your lips ghost over the tip of his cock, soft and feather-light. His hips jerk involuntarily, a strained groan slipping past his lips. “I didn’t say you could move,” you chastise, your tone sharp, dripping with condescension as your nails dig into his thighs, holding him in place.
“Fuck—sorry,” he chokes out, his head tipping back against the chair, his knuckles white as he grips the edges of the seat. His chest heaves with the effort of keeping still, every inch of him taut with restraint.
Satisfied, you let your lips brush over him again, your tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive head. The taste of him spreads across your tongue, rich and musky, and you hum softly, your hands tightening on his thighs. You take him into your mouth slowly, deliberately, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding lower, inch by inch, until the weight of him fills you.
A guttural moan escapes his lips, his thighs trembling beneath your hands as you begin to move, your mouth working him with precision. You hollow your cheeks, letting him feel the tightness, the warmth, your tongue pressing against the underside of his cock as you take him deeper. He’s big, stretching your jaw, but you refuse to falter, refuse to let him see anything but control.
“Fuck—God, you’re so fucking good at this,” he mutters, his voice ragged, breaking with each shallow breath. His head tips back further, his lips parted as his moans grow louder, the sound reverberating through the small space.
Your pace quickens, your movements relentless as you take him deeper, letting the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. His body jerks involuntarily, and his hands twitch against the chair, his knuckles tight and trembling as he fights the urge to reach for you.
“Don’t you dare move,” you warn, pulling back just enough to let a trail of saliva connect your lips to his cock. You glance up at him, your gaze sharp and unyielding, your voice a low, commanding hum. “You don’t get to come until I say so. Understand?”
“Yes,” he groans, his voice cracking, desperation lacing every word. “Yes, fuck—anything you want.”
You smirk, satisfied with his surrender, and take him into your mouth again, deeper this time, your hands gripping his thighs to keep him still. His groans turn to loud, broken cries as you work him mercilessly, your lips sliding down his length, your tongue pressing and swirling with every movement.
The mirror catches your attention—a perfect reflection of the way his body trembles under your control. His head is thrown back, his eyes squeezing shut before rolling open again, his lips parted as he moans without restraint. His hips jerk slightly despite your grip, his entire body betraying his need.
“Please,” he chokes out, his voice wrecked as his eyes meet yours in the reflection. “I can’t—fuck—I can’t take it.”
“Yes, you can,” you reply, your voice muffled against his cock as you take him even deeper, the strain in your jaw undeniable, but the power in his unraveling making it all worth it.
His thighs tremble harder beneath your palms, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts as you quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder. He cries out, his voice breaking as his hands grip the arms of the chair so tightly they shake.
“Good boy,” you murmur, pulling back just enough to let your tongue drag over the head of his cock, swirling around the sensitive tip before sliding back down. “That’s it—stay just like that.”
“Fuck—fuck, please,” he whimpers, his voice barely audible as his head tips back again, his jaw slack. “I need—I’m so close—please, can I?”
You smirk, your nails digging into his thighs as you pull back slightly, meeting his wide, glassy eyes. “Not yet,” you command, your tone sharp enough to make him groan in frustration, his body trembling as he struggles to obey.
You take him back into your mouth, relentless now, your pace unforgiving as his cries grow louder, echoing in the room. His hips buck slightly despite your grip, his restraint crumbling as he gasps your name, his moans broken and desperate.
“I can’t—fuck—I can’t hold it,” he chokes out, his voice trembling, his body shaking as his head falls back against the chair.
You pull back just enough to speak, your voice low and dripping with authority. “You can. Be good for me, Jeno.”
His response is a strangled groan, his eyes rolling back as his body tenses beneath you, every muscle trembling as he fights against the edge. His hands grip the arms of the chair with a desperation that borders on pain, his chest heaving as he gasps for air, barely holding himself together. His lips part as if to beg again, but no words come, just broken, needy sounds spilling out as his head falls back against the chair.
You let the moment stretch, the tension thick and almost unbearable, your lips brushing against the head of his cock, teasing him with light, deliberate flicks of your tongue. “Not yet,” you murmur again, your voice a quiet warning, the control in it making him whimper softly. When you finally pull back, meeting his dazed, glassy-eyed stare, you let a smirk curve your lips. “Alright,” you whisper, your tone soft but commanding, dragging out the words as if savoring his desperation. “Come for me.”
The second the words leave your lips, he shatters. His hips jerk, his hands flying to grip the chair as his cock pulses in your mouth. The heat and saltiness flood your tongue, but you don’t stop, your movements slowing only to milk every last shudder from him. His cries echo in the room, raw and unrestrained, his body trembling violently as he surrenders completely.
When you finally pull back, his chest heaves, his eyes half-lidded and glassy as he stares at you, his lips parted, his voice barely a whisper. “Fuck,” he breathes, his hands shaking as he reaches for you, but you push him back into the chair, smirking.
“Good job,” you murmur, your voice soft but laced with satisfaction. “But don’t think we’re done yet.”
You rise slowly, the weight of your body shifting just enough to brush against him, your thighs straddling his hips, your knees pressing into the chair on either side. The air between you feels thick, charged, and the sight of his cock—hard, flushed, twitching as it stands against his stomach—sends a rush of heat through you. His chest heaves, his breaths uneven, and his hands tremble where they grip the arms of the chair, knuckles white from restraint. His lips part, and the words spill out in a cracked, desperate voice, like he’s already forgotten how to hold them back.
“Please,” he gasps, his breath catching like the plea has been ripped straight from his chest. “I—I need you. Please, just—fuck, I can’t take it anymore.” His eyes flicker wildly, darting between your face, your body, the space where you hover just above him. His hips twitch upward, chasing contact, and his fingers flex against the arms of the chair like he wants to grab you but doesn’t dare. “Please,” he repeats, voice cracking again, thick with desperation.
You sink down onto his lap, your weight settling on him without fully taking him in. His cock presses against you, caught between your bodies, and the moan that escapes him is guttural, raw, his hips jerking as if he expects you to move.
But you don’t.
Instead, you stay perfectly still, your nails grazing along his jaw as you smirk at the way his breath stutters, his chest heaving against yours. The tension in his body coils tighter with every second, and the moment he realizes you’re not going to give him what he wants, the begging starts.
“I can’t—fuck, I need it. I need to feel you,” he groans, his voice shaking as his hips jerk beneath you, the thick length of him pressing insistently against your heat. “Please,” he chokes out, the words tumbling out in broken desperation. “Let me have your cunt. I’ll do anything—fuck, anything—just let me feel it, please.” His eyes are wild, glassy with need, his entire body trembling as he fights against the unbearable tension you’ve wrapped him in.
You drag your nails down the column of his neck, light but deliberate, until your hand rests firmly on his jaw. Tilting his chin, you force his gaze to meet yours. “You need it?” you murmur, your voice sharp and teasing, but there’s steel in it, enough to still him completely. Your thumb brushes the corner of his trembling lips, and his breath stutters, his head tilting into your hand as though it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Yes,” he breathes, his voice rough and uneven, his body trembling beneath your touch. “I’ll take anything—whatever you want, just… fuck.” The words break off into a desperate groan, his eyes locking onto yours, wide and glassy with raw need, his pupils dilated as if he’s losing himself entirely in you.
The corner of your lips curves into a slow, deliberate smirk as your palm slides to his cheek. For a moment, your touch is light, almost soothing, before you slap him—not hard, but enough to make his head jerk to the side and a broken sound escape his throat. His cock twitches violently against you, the sharp crack of your palm against his skin reverberating through the charged air.
“Again,” he moans, his voice wrecked, raw with need. His head snaps back, his gaze locking onto yours with a fervor that makes your stomach clench. His hands grip the arms of the chair harder, the veins in his forearms straining as he fights not to touch you.
You oblige without hesitation, slapping him again, slower this time, your palm lingering to feel the flush of warmth spreading across his skin. His hips jerk beneath you, a guttural groan ripping from his throat as his body trembles with barely restrained desire.
“Pathetic,” you hiss, leaning in closer, your nails grazing along the edge of his jaw. “Look at you—begging, shaking like you can’t survive another second without me. Do you even hear yourself?”
He whimpers, his lips parting, his head tilting back slightly as though offering himself up to you completely. The sound is raw, guttural, filled with something so consuming it makes your smirk widen.
You straighten, lifting yourself just enough to position him at your entrance. His cock presses against you, the heat and weight of it making your breath hitch despite yourself. Beneath you, his chest rises and falls in frantic bursts, his body shuddering as though he might snap from the tension.
When you sink down onto him, it’s slow, punishingly so, every inch deliberate, your body taking him in entirely as you watch the way his jaw slackens, his eyes rolling back as a choked groan tears from his throat. His hips buck, but your nails dig into his chest, sharp and grounding.
“Stay still,” you snap, your voice cutting through the haze of his desperation. “You move when I say you can.”
“Yes,” he gasps, his voice nothing more than a rasp. “Yes, I—fuck, I’m sorry—fuck, I’ll be good.”
Your pace starts slow, calculated, each roll of your hips pulling another broken sound from his lips. When you lean forward, your fingers wrapping around his throat, your thumb pressing lightly against his pulse, he shudders beneath you, his body trembling like he’s unraveling one second at a time.
“You don’t come until I say so,” you murmur, your voice low and sharp, watching the way he fights to hold on, every ounce of his control slipping through his fingers as he trembles beneath you.
When you start to bounce, it’s immediate and feral, your movements savage and unrelenting, driving down onto him with a pace that leaves no space for tenderness or adjustment. Each thrust sends a jolt through your body, the wet, obscene slap of skin meeting skin echoing in the charged air. His cock fills you completely, the stretch almost too much, but you refuse to let it show, your focus locked on his reaction. His head snaps back, his jaw slack as a guttural, animalistic groan tears from his throat, his body helpless against the onslaught.
“Fuck—oh my god, you’re so fucking tight,” he chokes out, the words tumbling from his lips in broken desperation. “It’s like—shit—I can feel every fucking inch of you gripping me.” His breath hitches, his fingers clawing at his thighs, digging into the muscle as though the pain might ground him. “You’re—fuck—you’re squeezing me so tight I can’t—” His words cut off in a ragged groan, his cock throbbing as your walls drag against him, pulling him deeper with every brutal thrust. “It’s too much, too fucking good,” he gasps, his head tipping back as his body shudders beneath you.
You lean in, your voice a soothing contrast to the brutal rhythm of your hips, “Shh, baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips softly to his temple. “I know it’s a lot. You’re doing so well for me.” Your fingers trail gently down his chest before curling around his jaw, tilting his face up so his glassy, desperate eyes meet yours.
You slam your hips down harder, the impact sharp and merciless, drawing another desperate cry from him. His breath stutters, his chest heaving as he chokes out, “I can’t—fuck—I’m gonna—”
“Don’t even think about it,” you snap, your voice razor-sharp, cutting through his haze of need. You grind down on him between thrusts, your hips rolling in a way that forces every inch of him deeper inside you. The friction sends a thrill up your spine, your nails digging into his chest to steady yourself as you keep him exactly where you want him.
His body jerks beneath you, shuddering violently, his hips bucking despite his efforts to stay still. You catch the movement instantly, your hand darting to his throat, your fingers curling tightly enough to make his gasp catch. “Already wanting to cum?” you taunt, a smirk curling your lips as you lean in closer, your breath brushing against his ear. “I haven’t even started.”
The words make him groan, his cock twitching inside you as his head tips back against the chair. “Please,” he whimpers, his voice cracking, wrecked and raw. “Please, I can’t—” His words dissolve into a broken moan, his hips lifting as though he’s trying to chase the friction you’re controlling.
“You’ll hold it,” you growl, your tone cold and commanding as you ride him harder, faster, your pace unrelenting. “You’ll hold it until I say you can. Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” he chokes out, the word a strangled sob, his hands trembling as they grip the chair like a lifeline. His cock throbs against your walls, each bounce sending him closer to the edge, his entire body writhing beneath you. His voice grows desperate, his cries sharp and guttural as your movements grow even more punishing, driving him into complete submission.
Each bounce is merciless, your ass meeting his thighs with sharp, punishing force that sends shocks through both of your bodies. The relentless drive of your hips forces his cock to fill you completely, the stretch and friction so intense it borders on unbearable. The sound of wet, obscene slaps echoes in the air, mingling with his broken moans and your sharp breaths. Every thrust grinds him deeper, the brutal rhythm pulling sharp gasps from your lips as your nails rake down his chest, leaving red trails in their wake.
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you lean forward, your body grinding down onto him with a deliberate roll of your hips that pulls a ragged groan from his throat. His chest rises and falls in frantic bursts, his head falling back, the column of his throat exposed as if in surrender. He can’t keep still—his body jerks and twitches under yours, his muscles taut as if they’re about to snap. You feel every tremor, every pulse of his cock as your walls squeeze around him mercilessly, refusing him a moment of respite.
The chair creaks beneath you, the rhythm of your movements relentless, driving him deeper and deeper until it feels like he’s splitting you open. Your breaths mix with his, harsh and uneven, your control unwavering even as his moans turn into desperate, incoherent sounds. He tries to shift beneath you, his hips bucking slightly, but you slam him back down with a firm hand on his chest, your strength keeping him exactly where you want him.
“Don’t even think about it,” you hiss, your voice sharp and commanding. His eyes flutter open, wide and glassy, his pupils blown as he looks up at you with a desperation that sends a wave of heat straight through you. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words are swallowed by a guttural cry as you slam your hips down again, the force of it pushing him deeper, the angle leaving him gasping.
Your pace shifts, faster now, the intensity ramping up as you grind down onto him between thrusts, the friction sparking a raw, unbearable pleasure that leaves you both shaking. His cock throbs inside you, each pulse a testament to how close he is, how completely he’s unraveling beneath you. His hands twitch at his sides, his fingers curling into the fabric of the chair, and you smirk at the sight of him—wrecked, trembling, completely under your control.
He whines, the sound pitiful and raw, his eyes fluttering open only to meet your gaze. The desperation in them makes you smirk, your hand sliding to his jaw to hold him still. “Is this too much for you?” you ask, feigning sweetness, your lips curving into a mocking smile as his chest heaves beneath your touch.
“No—no, please,” he stammers, his voice breaking, his hips jerking up involuntarily only to be met with your punishing grip. “Please—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop.”
“Don’t worry,” you purr, leaning closer, your breath hot against his ear. “I’m not stopping until I’ve ruined you.”
Your fingers tighten around his wrists, the raw strength in your grip forcing his arms high above his head, the hard press of your body keeping him pinned. His biceps strain, the muscles flexing as he instinctively fights for control, but you’re unrelenting. You shift slightly, your thigh bracing against his forearm, ensuring he has no leverage, no escape from the restraint of your body. His chest heaves, frantic and uneven, as you lean in, your breath brushing over his neck, the sheer dominance in your presence leaving him trembling.
Your other hand glides up his chest, fingers splayed wide before wrapping firmly around his throat. Your palm molds to his skin, thumb pressing into the frantic pulse hammering beneath it. The column of his throat arches, his head tipping back involuntarily, a guttural sound breaking free from his lips. His cock throbs deep inside you, every twitch dragging heat through your core as your walls squeeze around him, owning every inch.
“You’re mine,” you snarl, your voice low and cutting, the intensity in your words making his body jerk beneath you. You lean closer, the sharp curve of your hips grinding down onto him, your pace slowing, deliberate, teasing. “Every inch of you belongs to me right now. Don’t forget it.” The sound he makes is wrecked, raw, a broken moan that spills from his parted lips as his eyes flutter shut, his fingers twitching uselessly against your grip.
His head tilts forward slightly, lips brushing against your shoulder as though he’s desperate for contact, but you don’t relent. “Look at me,” you command, tightening your grip on his throat just enough to pull a sharp gasp from him. “Eyes open. You don’t get to hide from this. You don’t get to forget who owns you right now.”
As your grip loosens around his throat, you lean back slightly, allowing him a moment to catch his breath. His chest heaves, his pupils blown wide as he looks at you with a mix of hunger and reverence. His hands, trembling from restraint, rise tentatively, brushing against your sides before trailing upward.
Your lips curve into a smirk as his fingers reach your breasts, his touch hesitant at first. “You’re bold,” you tease, your tone laced with amusement, but there’s no protest in your voice. You arch into his hands, the deliberate movement pressing your chest into his palms.
“I can’t help it,” he chokes out, his voice trembling, every word spilling past his lips in broken desperation. His fingers pinch your nipples harder, his breath stuttering with each punishing roll of your hips. “You’re too fucking perfect—so soft, so—fuck—I couldn’t stop myself.” His grip tightens, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with a fervor that borders on frantic, the heat in his touch sending sparks straight to your core.
His thumbs circle over your nipples, the firm strokes drawing sharp, electric pleasure that makes your walls clench tighter around him. A guttural groan rips from his throat, his head falling back as his body jerks beneath you, trembling with every wave of sensation. But his eyes snap back to yours in an instant, wide and glassy, like he’s terrified of missing a single second of you.
You let him indulge for a few seconds longer, watching as his touch becomes rougher, more insistent. The way his hands mold to your body, gripping and squeezing like he can’t get enough, makes heat coil low in your stomach. But when his movements grow frantic, you grab his wrists, wrenching them away with a strength that startles him.
“What did I say about touching?” you hiss, your tone sharp, dripping with authority as you press his hands back against the chair. His eyes widen, his lips parting to stammer out an apology, but you don’t give him the chance. Instead, you soothe the tension briefly with a gentle touch, your fingers stroking down his chest, only to strike harder with your palm against his skin. The sound echoes through the room, sharp and commanding.
“I—I’m sorry,” he stammers, his voice hoarse, cracking as he squirms under your hand, his breath hitching with every strike.
“You think begging will save you?” you mock, your nails dragging across his chest, leaving faint red trails in their wake. His cries grow louder, his body arching as your words cut through his haze of desperation. “You’re going to take everything I give you, Jeno. Every. Fucking. Second.”
When you strike again, harder this time, his guttural moan makes your core tighten, his body trembling under your control. “Sorry isn’t good enough,” you snap, your palm delivering another blow, leaving his skin flushed and hot beneath your touch. “You’re going to learn to listen.”
His tears brim, his lips trembling as he gasps for air, his submission so raw it sends a thrill straight through you. You tilt his head up, forcing his glassy eyes to meet yours as you press your fingers to his lips. His tongue flicks out instinctively, tasting you, and the sight alone makes your breath hitch.
“Open,” you command, your voice soft but firm, and he obeys immediately, his mouth parting as you slide your fingers inside, pressing against his tongue. His lips close around you, the heat of his mouth making you smirk. “Deeper,” you instruct, your tone low and teasing as you push further, feeling his throat constrict around your fingers as he chokes slightly. His eyes flutter shut, his face reddening as he struggles to take you.
“Look at me,” you snap, your free hand tugging his hair roughly to hold his attention. His eyes snap open, wide and glassy, tears slipping down his cheeks as he meets your gaze. “I didn’t tell you to stop looking.”
His throat bobs as he sucks harder, his lips wrapping tightly around your fingers, his breaths ragged and broken. You press deeper, your control absolute as you watch him tremble beneath you, his entire body reacting to your dominance. When you finally pull your fingers free, they leave a trail of spit glistening along his lips. You smear it along his jaw with deliberate slowness, your eyes never leaving his.
“Good boy,” you purr, your hand sliding back to his throat, your fingers curling tightly as you slam your hips down onto him, harder and faster. The brutal rhythm pulls a wrecked moan from him, his body jerking against you, his cries raw and broken as you take him apart.
“You’re so fucking pretty when you listen,” you murmur, your tone laced with dark satisfaction, each word punctuated by the sharp snap of your hips. His submission is total now, his body yours to use as you see fit, and the sight of him like this—wrecked and trembling—only drives you to push him further.
He is fucking breathtaking.
It’s undeniable, an unfair truth etched into every perfect angle of his face, almost cruel in its certainty, the kind of beauty that lingers in your vision long after you’ve looked away. Every inch of him seems carved with intention—the sharp angles of his cheekbones catching the dim light, the line of his jaw taut as his head tips back, and the delicate flush blooming across his neck and chest. Sweat glistens on his skin, running in rivulets that trace the contours of his body, each droplet catching on the dip of his collarbones and the curve of his throat like liquid stars. His dark eyes, usually so composed and guarded, are utterly undone—blown wide, glassy, and filled with the kind of desperation that makes your stomach clench.
Right now, he looks otherworldly—utterly wrecked by you. The sheen of sweat on his temple, the way his lips part around ragged moans, trembling and red, make him almost too much to take in. His hair sticks to his forehead in damp strands, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. He’s the kind of breathtaking that feels like a punch to the ribs, an ache that spreads, unbearable in its intensity. Like the sun sinking into the horizon, beautiful enough to make you want to reach out and touch, even if you know it’ll burn you.
Your rhythm falters, your grip tightening on his shoulders as you lose yourself in the sight of him. For a moment, all your control slips through your fingers, and the words spill out in a soft, broken moan, surprising even yourself. “You’re so fucking pretty,” you gasp, leaning forward, your hands trembling as you cradle his jaw. “So handsome.”
You’ve always known it, even through the years of hating him, resenting him, wanting to be anywhere but near him. It was an unshakable truth that no amount of anger could erase: Lee Jeno was, quite simply, the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on.
It’s a fragile admission, out of place amidst the raw hunger of the moment, like a fragile bloom growing in the cracks of a storm-battered stone. The words hang in the air, vibrating with the kind of vulnerability that feels dangerous, but you can’t pull them back now. You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss so tender it feels like it doesn’t belong here. It’s desperate in its softness, a startling contrast to the roughness that came before, like silk brushing against jagged edges.
For a moment, he’s frozen, his breath catching against your lips, as though he can’t quite believe this is happening. Then, slowly, his lips move against yours, hesitant at first, before matching the quiet desperation in your kiss. It’s messy and uncoordinated, all teeth and open mouths, his moans spilling into yours like confessions. His breath stutters as his teeth graze your bottom lip, and when your hips roll against him, pulling a strangled sound from deep in his chest, it feels like the ground beneath you is shifting.
His body shudders beneath your touch, his hands twitching as if to reach for you, only to falter, his restraint holding by a thread. You feel the weight of his surrender, the way he melts into the kiss, giving you everything without hesitation. It’s intoxicating, watching someone so breathtaking, someone who could have the world with a glance, completely undone by you.
You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath still mingling with his in the charged air between you. His chest heaves, each rise and fall frantic, his lips swollen and slick from your kiss, slightly parted as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. His eyes—half-lidded and glazed over—lock onto yours, dark and unfocused, brimming with a desperation he can’t quite conceal. For a fleeting moment, it feels like looking into his soul, a raw, vulnerable window to something usually locked away beneath his composed exterior.
The intimacy feels like too much, too exposed. The softness lingers in the air like an uninvited guest, pressing against the raw edges of the moment. You shake your head slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if to dispel the weight of it, a silent denial of the connection crackling between you. Vulnerability wasn’t part of this—it wasn’t supposed to be. You came here to take, to dominate, to unravel him until nothing was left but submission and need. This? This fleeting tenderness feels misplaced, like silk trying to smother a flame.
Your grip tightens on his jaw, a reminder of control slipping back into your hands like a mask you wear too well. With deliberate force, you tilt his head down, breaking the fragile spell and redirecting his attention to where your bodies are joined. His cock is buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s trying to carve himself into your very core, every inch of him slick and glistening with how greedily your cunt swallows him. His breath catches, a guttural noise tearing from his chest as his hands clench into trembling fists at his sides, every part of him strung so tight he looks ready to snap.
“Look at that,” you murmur, your voice cutting through the charged air like a blade, your dominance settling back over you like armor. “Look at how perfectly you fill me up, Jeno. Every inch of you disappearing into me.” You roll your hips, slow and deliberate, forcing your walls to clench around him, pulling a strangled gasp from his lips. “And yet,” you pause, letting the weight of your words press into him, “you can barely hold it together.”
“I—I’m trying,” he stammers, his voice trembling as his cock throbs inside you, twitching with every cruel grind of your hips. His head falls forward, his forehead brushing your shoulder as he struggles for control, but you shove him back against the chair with an unrelenting grip. “Fuck, I’m trying—I swear—”
“Trying isn’t good enough,” you snap, your fingers tangling in his hair instead, tugging sharply as his head jerks back, a broken whimper spilling from his lips. The tension in his body ripples under your control, his throat bared to you, vulnerable and exposed. “You’re already falling apart, Jeno, and I haven’t even given you my best yet. What does that make you?”
His jaw tightens, his lips parting as though he’s about to argue, but all that comes out is a broken, wrecked moan. “Yours,” he finally manages, the word shaky and soft, like he’s barely holding on. “I’m yours. Fuck—do whatever you want—just don’t stop.”
A smirk curls your lips, the sight of him trembling, undone, making heat surge through you. You lean forward, your breath brushing his ear as your voice dips lower. “You sound pathetic. Like a desperate little toy, begging for me to use you. Is that what you want, Jeno? To be mine to ruin?”
“Yes,” he chokes out, his voice cracking under the weight of his need. “Yes, please—I’ll do anything.”
You lift your hips slightly, just enough to make your cunt squeeze tighter around him before slamming back down with brutal precision. The wet, obscene sound of him filling you completely echoes in the room, and his entire body shudders, his cock twitching violently as if it’s trying to bury itself deeper. He’s trembling now, his fingers twitching at his sides, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he struggles to breathe through the overwhelming sensation of you taking him completely.
“You’re mine,” you snarl, your nails dragging along his chest again, this time down to the sensitive skin just above his navel. His hips buck involuntarily, trying to meet your punishing rhythm, but you press him back with surprising strength, keeping him pinned. “And you’re going to sit there and take it while I make you fall apart.”
“Fuck—please—” he whines, his voice a wrecked whisper, his head falling back as he groans. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t take it.”
“Can’t?” you mock, gripping his chin tighter and forcing him to meet your gaze. “You’ll take every inch of me, Jeno. You don’t have a fucking choice.” You tilt his head back further, making him watch as your cunt swallows him whole, the sight of him disappearing into you completely leaving him gasping for air. “Look at you,” you sneer, grinding down harder just to hear him cry out. “Pathetic. So desperate. You can’t even handle how tight I am around you.”
His hips jerk again, his control slipping further as his moans turn into something almost feral, his body arching against you. “Please,” he gasps, his voice raw, wrecked, broken. “You’re so—fuck—you’re perfect. I need more—I need—”
“You don’t get to need anything,” you hiss, leaning down until your lips are a breath away from his. “The only thing you get is what I decide to give you. And right now? You’re going to stay right here and watch while I ruin you.”
But the moment cracks, his control shattering as you lift yourself slightly, your body taut and poised to slam back down onto him. His palm snaps to your lower back, holding you in place with a force that’s as commanding as it is infuriating, while his other hand digs into your hip, the bruising grip leaving no room for escape. Before you can argue, the air shifts, thickening with the wet, lewd sound of him gathering spit. You open your mouth instinctively, heat flooding your core as his head dips, and he spits directly onto your tongue—hot, filthy, and deliberate. It pools there for a moment before you swallow, your lips parting again as his eyes darken with something raw and primal. He doesn’t stop. Another wet strand lands on your chest, sliding down to the curve of your breast, the glistening trail catching the light before his hand smears it lower, dragging the slick mess down your stomach and over the arch of your back. His palm presses harder, his cock throbbing deep inside you as his lips curl into a smug, defiant grin.
His hands move immediately, smearing the spit across your skin with deliberate, controlled motions. His fingers press firmly into the soft flesh of your ass, spreading the wetness with maddening precision, working it over every curve as if he owns you. His grip tightens, kneading and pulling, his palms hot against your skin, the pressure sparking heat that radiates through your body. His cock twitches inside you, thick and pulsing, sending shocks of pleasure that coil in your stomach. He leans in, his breath hot and heavy, his hands sliding lower to spread the spit even further, as if marking every inch of you as his. “Look at you,” he growls, his voice dripping with contempt and possession. “So fucking filthy. So desperate. Do you even realize how pathetic you look right now?”
“Pathetic?” you bite back, your voice sharp, cutting through the haze of his dominance. Your hands shoot out, grabbing his wrists as you shove his grip away. “I’m the one riding you. Don’t forget that.” You grind your hips down hard, forcing a guttural groan from his throat as his head falls back. His smirk falters for a second, replaced by a flash of vulnerability in his darkened gaze.
But he doesn’t relent, snapping his hips upward with a brutal thrust that forces a broken cry from your lips. “Feel that?” he growls, his voice low and dripping with smug satisfaction. “You’re shaking around me. You’re the one falling apart. Admit it—you’re fucking addicted to me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, leaning forward, your fingers curling around his throat. You squeeze lightly, enough to make his breath hitch as your hips shift to take him deeper. “You don’t get to talk. Not when I’ve got you like this.”
His response is a low, defiant chuckle, even as his thighs tremble beneath you. “That all you’ve got?” he rasps, his voice rough, but the quiver in his tone betrays him. “You’re trying so hard to be in control, but look at you. You can’t even stop moaning.”
Your nails drag down his chest in retaliation, leaving angry red trails that make his cock jerk inside you. “You’re going to regret that,” you snap, slamming your hips down hard enough to make his eyes roll back. The wet, obscene slap of skin meeting skin echoes around you, and the sight between your legs—the way his cock disappears into you, stretching you, slick with your arousal—makes your breath hitch.
“Fuck,” he groans, his hands twitching at his sides like he’s barely holding himself together. “You’re so—shit—how do you keep getting tighter?”
“And you’re going to feel every second of it,” you murmur, your hips grinding down in slow, teasing circles that make his breath hitch. His hands flex at his sides, and you lean in, pinning his wrists above his head with a smirk. “Stay still. You’re mine to break, Jeno.”
But he doesn’t stay still. His restraint snaps, his hips slamming up into you with enough force to leave you gasping. “Is this how you’re going to break me?” he bites out, his voice strained but defiant as his hands grip your hips, holding you in place. “Look at you—shaking like that. You’re barely holding on.”
“Shut up,” you snap, trying to force him back down, but he doesn’t let up, his smirk cutting through your attempt at control.
“Make me,” he growls, thrusting deeper, his gaze locked on yours, daring you to take it back.
“You asshole,” you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to regain control, your body arching with each brutal thrust. “You’re so fucking desperate. Can’t even last without trying to take over.”
His laughter is wrecked, strained, as he leans up, his lips brushing against your ear. “And you’re soaked, trembling, fucking yourself on my cock like you can’t get enough. So who’s desperate now?”
Your bodies collide in a frenzy of dominance and submission, both of you battling for control even as the pressure builds to an unbearable peak. His cock drives into you, relentless and unyielding, the stretch almost too much to bear, but you meet him thrust for thrust, refusing to back down. Your nails rake down his back, and he shudders, his breath stuttering against your lips as his movements grow erratic.
“Fuck,” you gasp, your voice breaking as the heat between you threatens to consume everything. “I’m—Jeno, I’m—”
“Let it go,” he groans, his voice strained, his own control hanging by a thread. “Come on, baby. Together.”
The tension snaps all at once, your release crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body clenches around him, a scream tearing from your throat as you shatter, the wetness flooding between you, spilling out in an uncontrollable gush that leaves both of you gasping. Jeno follows a second later, a guttural moan ripped from his chest as he buries himself deep, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with everything he has.
Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging in as his hips jerk uncontrollably, prolonging both of your highs. His forehead falls to yours, his breaths coming in ragged bursts as the tremors in your body echo in his. For a moment, neither of you move, the silence filled only with the sound of your labored breathing and the sticky, heated mess between your bodies.
Your body feels wrecked, trembling with aftershocks as you try to catch your breath. Your skin burns where his hands had gripped you, his touch still ghosting along your thighs, your hips, everywhere he’d claimed you. Your chest heaves, your pulse erratic, and when your gaze locks with his, it sends another jolt through you. His eyes are dark, wide with something raw—shock, maybe regret, but laced with hunger that hasn’t quite faded. His lips are swollen, parted slightly as he struggles to steady his breathing, and the way he looks at you makes everything tighten again, an ache blooming low in your stomach. You see it there, in the way his brows pull together, in the slight tremor in his hands still resting on your hips—he’s just as undone as you are, and it terrifies you.
This isn’t a beginning; it’s the wreckage of everything you swore to keep intact—a body trembling beneath the weight of its own undoing. The room feels unbearably quiet now, the sound of your shared breaths the only thing grounding you both. You’ve just fucked him—Mark’s brother—the one person you should have never touched, and it feels like you’ve set fire to everything you’ve built. The heat still lingers between you, searing, scorching, and yet it’s the aftermath that threatens to suffocate—the realization that you’ve not only crossed the line, you’ve obliterated it. The moment feels like a collapsing star, all-consuming and inescapable, and yet neither of you moves, as though staying in this broken, twisted orbit might somehow keep the inevitable from swallowing you whole.
authors note — hi loves! if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! it truly means the world to me. i poured so much effort into this, so if you could take just a moment to send an ask or leave a message sharing your thoughts, it would mean everything. your interactions—whether it’s sending an ask, your feedback, a comment, or just saying hi—give me so much motivation to keep writing. i’m always so happy to respond to messages, asks and comments so don’t be shy! thank you from the bottom of my heart! <3
Pairing: university student!Jaehyun x kindergarten teacher!reader
Genre: fake engagement au, neighbors au, age gap, hate to love, drama, romance, smut
Word Count: 26k
Warnings: reader is five years older than Jaehyun; Jaehyun doesn't treat women very nicely in the beginning; there is a lot of scheming going on; some characters have a questionable moral compass (cheating, blackmailing, lying, traditional family arrangements); there is an explicit rated scene (handjob, mc gets hand over mouth) and two suggestive ones, all of which you can skip if you want
Summary: You hate your neighbor in room 803 to the core, because his raunchy and very vocal bed activities always keep you up at night. There is no scenario in which you can ever imagine tolerating a lousy brute like him—until you get entangled in a web of lies and your neighbor comes into picture to play along. Your raunchy, lousy neighbor, who, to your surprise, fits the role of your fake fiancé very well. Almost too well.
A/N: Hi! So this is the result of ring window shopping and the Unconditional MV. I drew inspiration for the opening scene from my very own fic "Sinned" that I've first published on Aff. Leave feedback if you want <3 Happy reading! (D-482 until Jaehyun returns)
Finding a suitable apartment in the downtown of a very busy metropolis was a challenge.
There were many things to consider during apartment hunting: the location, the price, the layout, the facilities, and also the distance to the next station depending on your commute. Nobody wanted to live in a rundown one bedroom on the 10th floor with no elevator and paper thin walls for which you still paid a fortune.
You were very lucky to have none of that.
Your apartment consisted of two rooms in a new building and was located on the 8th floor. It had three elevators, a concierge service, and even a small convenience store connected to the lobby. It cost more than a third of your salary, but with all the benefits, it was worth it. You couldn’t have thanked your co-worker enough to have passed it on to you when she had moved away, so that you could finally live closer to your workplace.
You loved your new apartment.
But you hated your neighbors.
A neighbor on the 9th floor liked to play the drums for at least two hours a day and usually chose to do that when you had already returned home from work. A neighbor on the 7th floor liked to discuss things very heatedly with his girlfriend right by the window. Three rooms away from you on the 8th floor, there was a dog barking constantly, and somewhere else in the building, a tenant invited guests over to throw a party almost every Saturday night.
But your next-door-neighbor living in room 803 was the worst.
“Yes, right there! Oh my… yes, yes yes!”
It was 1am on a Sunday night and you were supposed to get up in five hours, not having found even a single minute of sleep until now since the noises had been going on for an hour already at this point.
“Oh… Jaehyun! Ahhh! Oooooh!”
You pressed your pillow against your face and muffled your agonized scream in it. Almost every night, it was the same. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later, and you were able to count yourself lucky if he paused these sessions for two or three days in a row. But then they came back even stronger. And tonight was such a night.
“Yes, oh god… oh my god! Ahhh, Jaehyun!”
You clenched your fist, raised your arm and hammered against the wall.
But instead of slowing down, stopping or even reacting to you, you now heard his bed pound against the wall that separated your rooms, accompanied by the woman’s constant screaming.
“Shut up, it’s in the middle of the night!” you yelled.
“Get lost, we’re done already!” he yelled back.
Following his words, you then noticed the silence that had suddenly filled your room, finally allowing you to welcome your well-deserved sleep as tomorrow, another long workday awaited you. But your neighbor, of course, didn’t understand as he would start all over again tomorrow night.
He was a university student in his senior year, his naturally dark hair constantly messy and bleached blond to the brink of extinction, always dressed in joggers and hoodies, and apparently enjoying life to the fullest.
He was your neighbor Jeong Jaehyun, living in room 803 and your personal enemy since day one.
____
After having tried to conceal the dark circles under your eyes with heavy makeup the next morning, you were late again as you let the entry door fall closed behind you and hurried along the hallway with your heels audibly clacking over the floor. You called for the elevator by pressing the button and waited nervously, praying in silence that you would still catch the next subway.
From behind you, you heard another door getting opened and pivoting around, you spotted a woman stepping out of apartment 803. Or better say, she was thrown out as she only stood in the corridor in her underwear, another two pieces of clothing falling to her feet that had come shooting from the opened entry door.
“I don’t even get breakfast?” she sulked as she picked up her clothes from the floor.
“I told you not to rummage through my home.”
Jaehyun emerged by the door now, his blond hair sticking out to all sides as he seemingly tried to block her away back in. He was wearing a bathrobe and was clearly still tired too. Even though you wanted to, it was so hard for you to look away as you were curious about what was going on.
“You’re an asshole!” the woman ranted while gathering her clothes. “I was only looking for a toothbrush!”
“You can look in your own home.” Jaehyun then dropped something else next to her on the floor while she was still crouching down. “Don’t forget your purse.”
You thought you were fast in turning away from the scene without anyone noticing, but he was faster in catching your curious eyes before you were facing them with your back. You drew in a breath and hoped he wouldn’t call you out on that, but Jaehyun wasn’t that kind of person.
“Hey, Miss Neighbor!” he yelled. “Next time, instead of complaining… how about joining?”
Bringing your bag closer to your body, you suppressed your embarrassment and looked back again to threaten, “Next time, I won’t be yelling only, but come over with my baseball bat!”
You hated the grin he then threw at you. “So you’re into that kind of stuff, huh? Come over and we’ll see about that.”
Luckily, one of the elevators reached your floor at exactly that moment and you were quick enough to get in before Jaehyun’s one night stand could make it to the door at the same time.
The entire commute to the kindergarten, you thought about nothing else than your lack of sleep and how to finally put an end to this entire nonsense. At this point, it was ridiculous. You had been enduring that kind of shenanigans for one month already, and you were slowly getting fed up. No, actually, you had reached your wit’s end already. In the beginning, it had been all good and quiet, and from one day to another, it had suddenly started.
You didn’t know who had hurt him so much that he needed to compensate for his pain in this manner, but you’d rather he wouldn’t drag you into it. It only forced you to interact with him when you wanted to be left alone altogether to focus on your career.
“What is it?” your class’ homeroom teacher asked you as you entered the common room that morning. “You look so tired again.”
“Ah, it’s just that I can’t seem to sleep well lately,” you tried to budge as you placed your bag on the desk. “A weird planet constellation or something.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth. What were you supposed to say anyway? That your neighbor smashed different girls so loudly every night, it kept you up for hours? People would only laugh at you.
“Try lavender tea,” she recommended to you. “This always helps me.”
“I will. Thank you.”
On your way to your respectant classroom, you were greeted by the children who had just been dropped off and getting ready to start the day.
Teaching children had always been your dream, and being an assistant teacher at a reputable private kindergarten came with few advantages in comparison to public ones, a higher salary was one of them. The hardest part was not the amount of work or the long working hours, but the strict and high-demanding parents whose individual expectations you always had to meet.
But looking into these brightly smiling faces greeting you each morning, it was all worth it.
“There is something I need to tell you,” the homeroom teacher then announced when you reached the door of your respective classroom.
“Yes? What is it?”
She kneaded her fingers in reluctance, her bag clipped between her upper arm and body. “I’m going to transfer to another school.”
“Where would you go?” you asked, perplexed. “This is Shi-A kindergarten. There are no other more prestigious kindergartens in the entire district or even country if I dare say so. Except… It’s not a kindergarten.”
She smiled and nodded. “I’m going to transfer to Shi-A elementary school. A teacher will quit by the next semester and they offered the position to me.”
You grabbed her hands, excitement written all over your face. “This is such great news! I’m so happy for you!”
“Hold on, the greatest part is yet to come.” She was five years your senior, but you saw her more like a sister than your supervisor. “I recommended you to the school board as the new homeroom teacher. The principal has agreed already, we’re currently preparing your recommendation letters.”
You were too stunned to ask more than, “Me?”
She nodded and squeezed your hands back in encouragement. “There is no one better here for this position other than you. You’re compassionate, you’re helpful and intelligent. The kids love you and rely on you. You’re finished being an assistant only, I can tell. And the principal as well.”
“Me, as a homeroom teacher?” It sounded like a faraway dream.
“Miss!” A girl from your class, Soah, tugged on your coattail. She was holding something out to you. A yellow flower. “This is for you! I just plucked it, it was the prettiest on the playground!”
You took the flower into your hand and thanked her.
“Like I said,” the homeroom teacher commented with a wink as you entered the classroom, “there is no one better for this position other than you.”
____
“Ahhh, yes!! Jaehyun, Jaehyun!”
BAM BAM BAM
“I swear to god, Jeong Jaehyun, it’s 2am now, I will come for you!”
You jumped out of your bed, only dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and a simple t-shirt, not bothering about throwing your bathrobe on or slipping into a pair of shoes at this point. You would only go to Jaehyun’s door and ring the bell to interrupt whatever they were doing right now.
“If I’m not getting any sleep, you’re not getting nutted either!”
Tomorrow, you had a very important meeting with the school board members and wanted to be well rested. So at least, for tonight only, you had hoped to get a few more hours of sleep. You had studied possible questions and answers for days by now and were not only tired, but also mentally exhausted.
But, of course, a reckless university student like Jaehyun wouldn’t understand.
When you reached your entrance door, just about to exit your apartment, you halted mid-motion, interrupted by a sound you had never heard before in this apartment building.
The fire alarm.
You were petrified at first, unsure how to react in such a situation as your mind wasn’t able to grasp the entire meaning yet. As it slowly sank down on you that it most likely meant danger as the alarm hadn’t subsided by now, you reacted very fast by finally opening the door and looking to your left and right.
At first, nothing happened, and you questioned whether your neighbors would react according to emergency plans. But then, one door after another opened on your floor and out stormed the tenants, passing by you and running down the stairs like their lives depended on it.
“Damn it!” you cursed and left your apartment the next moment as well, thinking about all your electronics and important papers that were still inside.
But in kindergarten, you also regularly taught the children how to behave during a fire alarm, and the first and most important thing was to drop everything and get the hell out of the building. So when you were about to run down the stairs, you remembered that there was one person who hadn’t come out of their apartment yet.
“Hey!” you hammered against Jaehyun’s door after you had returned. “Hey! It’s a fire alarm! Can’t you hear?!”
Your own voice didn’t drown out the signal tone, but you tried nonetheless - to no avail. Jaehyun and whoever was with him wouldn’t come out.
“Miss, what are you still doing here?” The middle-aged man whose dog was always barking on your floor approached you with his pet. “We need to leave! Who knows where the fire has spread already!”
“But Jae-”
But the man just grabbed you by your hand and dragged you along the corridor, his strength too overpowering for you to resist. Even with your head turned and your eyes fixated on Jaehyun’s door, you couldn’t spot him coming out.
Inwardly, you just prayed that he perhaps had reacted fast and left already, but as all the residents slowly gathered in the front yard one by one, you couldn’t recognize Jaehyun among the people storming out of the lobby.
You didn’t know why you cared about that brute, just enough to look out for him.
Perhaps, your job as a teacher had made you sensitive to your surroundings and responsible for the people around you regardless of age and behaviour. You wanted everyone around you to be safe and sound, and that didn’t apply to children only.
“Where are you?” you muttered more to yourself as you got on your bare tiptoes and looked over the crowd as the last people were leaving the building, still no sign of Jaehyun.
“Looking for someone?”
“Oh my-!” you called out and stumbled backwards against the person that had just addressed you.
When you turned around, Jaehyun was standing in front of you, fully dressed in checkered pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt, his blond hair reflecting the light from the street lamp. So he had really made it out without you noticing, even after getting dressed. God knew how this had been even possible.
“Mrs. Choi,” you dodged the topic quickly. “I haven’t seen her yet.”
Jaehyun pointed at someone only two meters away from you, an elderly lady from the same floor. “There she is.”
“Ah, I see. Thank god.”
You buried your hands deep into the pockets of your pajama pants and stepped from one foot on another to warm them up a bit. You indeed had left your slippers behind in a hurry and had only noticed when it was already too late, so your toes were now cold and your soles dirty.
“Here.” Jaehyun slid out of his slippers and then stood next to you with naked feet. “Take them.”
“I don’t need them.”
“Look, your toes are slowly turning blue, and even if it’s still warm during the day, at night it’s already chilly since we almost have October already. So take them.”
You crossed your arms to warm yourself up a little more and, with much hesitation though, slid your feet into Jaehyun’s slippers. They were way too big and didn’t protect your feet from the cool breeze, but at least you didn’t need to stand on the cold and dirty asphalt anymore.
“Thank you,” you said.
Jaehyun raised his head up to the building complex. “It doesn’t seem like there is a huge fire anywhere, otherwise there would be fumes coming out of an apartment already.”
Red and blue light caught your both’s attention that was coming from the firetruck currently pulling up into the lane. Different firefighters got ready and stormed into the building in full attire, but Jaehyun was right. You couldn’t detect a fire either.
“Maybe it was only a small one and they managed to put it out already. Or someone was illegally smoking inside the apartment and the detector still picked up the fumes.”
“Whoever that was, they robbed me of a night’s fun.”
You rolled your eyes. “Well, isn’t that unfortunate? If they hadn’t done that, then I would have come for you myself, because I have an important interview tomorrow. But unfortunately, this situation is worse. God knows when we can return to our homes.”
“What interview? Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“For my promotion, it’s in the headquarters. I want to be a homeroom teacher, and in my kindergarten, there is no such thing as weekends.”
“Sounds annoying,” Jaehyun commented.
You flashed your eyes at him. “Of course, for someone who sleeps until midday and whose only aim it is to smash different women every night, this sounds annoying. But I’m a full grown adult with a real job, and if only you knew about how hard it is, you wouldn’t be so reckless with your noises at two in the morning!”
For the break of a second, you had hoped that you could possibly hold a normal conversation with Jaehyun. That he wasn’t that much of a prick, that you could explain yourself and he would understand your standpoint. But he was nothing other than your expected player, and you had had enough of them during your own time in university.
You then fled to the very front of the crowd right by the lobby without Jaehyun following you, and luckily, not much later, the firefighters declared the building safe. The alarm had been set off on the fourth floor by the partying tenant and his guests who had indeed ignored the rules and smoked inside.
You hurried inside along with the other residents, taking the stairs instead of the elevator to linger around long enough until you weighed yourself in safety from Jaehyun’s presence.
You only returned much later to your apartment than all the others and were back in bed by 4am without having to face your next-door-neighbor again. Too late to get enough sleep still after all.
_____
“We are very pleased with your answers so far, miss.”
“Thank you so much, sir.”
You bowed in your seat, all the weight from the past days getting lifted off your shoulders. Despite the night before being a total chaos and you running on three hours of sleep only, you had made it on time to the interview and had even been able to revise everything during your commute.
Screw Jaehyun, you were great on your own.
“But there is one thing we’re concerned about,” the director said.
As you looked up, you perceived how nervously he was fidgeting in his seat as were the other board members, throwing some meaningful glances at each other. You knew it had been too easy until now. A woman in her late twenties who had only been teaching for three years overall, becoming a homeroom teacher at this prestigious kindergarten that quickly? There was always a catch.
“We’re concerned the students’ parents might not be content with our choice if we decide to put you in that position.”
“What could they be discontent about?” you asked as the director showed reluctance to continue. “I have my degrees, the experience, as well as the homeroom teacher’s and the kindergarten principal’s recommendation letters. With all respect, I am very qualified for this position, sir.”
“We are not concerned about your qualifications, miss.” He paused. “But about your living circumstances.”
You raised a brow. “My… living circumstances?”
“You’re a young woman living alone, who’s also unmarried,” a board member then raised his voice to take the pressure off the director. For sure, they had talked about this in private before. This felt like an ambush. “This is not something that is likely to be accepted among the childrens’ parents as they put great value in traditional family arrangements. As you know, it’s one of the pillars our schools are based on: tradition.”
You scoffed inwardly, but remained expressionless on the outside. Luckily, you knew how to deal with ambushes. You had so much to say about what they viewed as traditional family arrangements, but you loved it here and didn’t want to lose the job on the spot, so you kept your lips sealed and responded as politely as possible,
“I don’t know why my living arrangements would be any parents’ concern. If I can afford a nice apartment close to the kindergarten where I spend many hours preparing everything for their children to receive the absolute best education, shouldn’t that speak for my living arrangement? I also put great value on tradition. Just because I’m not married yet, doesn’t mean I never want to or won’t get married one day. Everyone has their own timeline and this should not block my career.”
“We’re aware about that, miss. But as you might also know, the parents have a fundamental right of co-determination in our schools.”
“Because since it’s a private institution, they finance everything,” you wanted to interrupt, but kept that sentence to yourself only. Instead, you said, “I dedicate all my time and passion to cater to their children. I am one of the firsts to enter and leave the kindergarten, even working more from home. I volunteer to teach on the weekends and during semester breaks. Does this not count more than the fact that I’m an unmarried woman who’s living alone?”
You were pushing boundaries by demanding an answer, you knew that, but it was nothing very reputable board members couldn’t rationally reply to. The fact that they didn’t, only proved that you were right and they were mere cowards under the invisible whiplash of wealthy parents. Without them and their money, their schools’ reputation wouldn’t be where it was now.
“We can’t change the parents’ opinions, miss,” the director eventually spoke up, retreating into a defending mode and putting the blame entirely on the parents instead of standing up for you, an assistant he had approved of hiring two years ago. Again, such cowards. “We will forward your documents and records to them, but that means a background check as well. And, if I may be frank, I can tell that you’re going to get ruled out solely for that reason.”
“Then change it,” you interrupted him. “Change my status to engaged. This is what they want, right?”
“Miss… we cannot counterfeit your documents.”
“They won’t be counterfeited, because it’s true,” you said with a confident voice. “I wanted to keep my private life private, at least until I get officially married. But I have no choice now to announce it before I actually wanted to. Yes, I am engaged and we’re going to get married soon.”
All the board members seemed to be taken aback by your sudden confessions. Perhaps, their reaction was genuine. Perhaps, they also knew you were lying. But what proof would they have to actually ascribe this lie to you? They threw meaningful gazes at each other again, unsure of what to make of this change in the situation.
“Very well, miss.” The director eventually spoke up and nodded. “I will mention this in your documents and you can hand in a copy of your marriage certificate later when the papers are through.”
“But is this enough time, sir? It has to be decided within two months, the principal told me. I don’t know whether it will be enough time since the engagement is still new and we haven’t set a fixed date yet.”
“That’s true. If you want to convince the parents of your skills and background, I would recommend you to organize the school festival together with them. Volunteer for an activity in which your fiancé can participate as well and show them what a great couple you are. When they’re convinced, the paperwork will only be formalities.”
You swore you saw one corner of his lip tug up, either in malicious glee or in pure relief. Did he know?
“I understand, sir.” You bowed deeply. “Thank you very much.”
“And one last thing… You can start wearing your engagement ring from now if you don’t want to make a huge announcement. It’s more convincing.”
Oh, he knew. But he couldn’t care less as long as you didn’t get him in hot waters.
You nodded in understanding. “Yes, sir.”
On your way home, you stopped by a jeweler and picked out a nice, but cheap ring, a replica of your own dream ring, just beautiful and sparkly enough to get this lie through.
____
You had dedicated your entire life to this kindergarten, not only neglecting your family along the way, but also your friends.
In fact you hadn’t talked or even answered your friends in months. You didn’t know what they were up to nowadays except for what they were giving away through status updates in your texting app. You scrolled through your contacts in the messenger, but sighed whenever one of the rare male names popped up. Some of them were married already, two had children.
They had all been your friends in university, but you hadn’t talked to any of them in an embarrassingly long time, so there was no one you could ask. How awkward must that be for someone to suddenly get a message about going along with a fake engagement from an old classmate they hadn’t seen in years?
“I’m so screwed!” you groaned and stretched out in your bed, throwing your phone aside. “Oh god, why!”
Perhaps, it was time to look for a new job, even though you loved the children and Shi-A kindergarten was the best reference for your CV. There was no coming back from all your lies anyway. Until now, you couldn’t quite grasp what had brought you to tell them what they wanted to hear. You should have just accepted their answer and moved on. Why did you have to be so impulsive at times, needing to get what you wanted right away?
People did separate before their wedding, that was possible, so there was a way out after all. You could stay an assistant teacher for several more years, there was nothing wrong with it. But the shame and pity you would need to deal with afterwards…
The next moment, you sat up, your train of thoughts getting interrupted by the door bell, and the person behind the entrance was someone you hadn’t expected that day as he had never come over before.
“My shoes.”
“Huh?”
“My shoes.” A barefooted, messy blond-haired Jaehyun pointed at the shoe rack behind you. “You still have them.”
“Ah, right.” You quickly grabbed them and dropped the pair in front of his naked feet. “Here.”
But Jaehyun didn’t slip in right away. Instead, he questioned, “How did it go?”
You tilted your head in confusion. “Did what go?”
“The interview.”
You growled and your tongue loosened over the newly awakened stress, “Apparently, they don’t want a young, unmarried woman, who’s also living alone, teaching their children, so it did not go very well. It went all downhill when I said that I was going to get married soon to save my promotion. They invited my fake fiancé to the kindergarten to help out at the festival so that the parents get a chance to bond with him.”
“So you’re getting married?” He sounded as perplexed as the board members. Why was it such a big deal to imagine you getting married anyway?
“No! I’m not! That’s the catch. Now I have to get a fake fiancé from somewhere.”
“Hm. So you lied.”
“A bit.”
“Hm. Doesn’t sound like a bit of lying in my book.”
“I know, okay? Thanks for pointing it out.”
You didn’t know why you had told him all that. Perhaps, among the path you had chosen for yourself, you had lost all your friends and now had no one you could talk to whenever you faced a problem. He was just there, at the right moment.
“Really sucks for you.” Jaehyun shrugged and slipped into his shoes. He then turned around and disappeared back into his apartment.
You could have also talked to a wall.
____
“You never told me that you were engaged! And what an amazing ring with such a big diamond!” Your homeroom teacher jumped up and down in excitement as you two made your way to the entrance gate in the late evening at the same time as club activities ended. “I didn't even know you had a boyfriend! All this time you were keeping it a secret!”
“It has spread quite fast, hasn’t it?” you laughed out shyly.
“Totally! Is he going to help out during the school festival? My theater class still needs volunteers and your fiancé can join as well.”
“Sure,” you lied. “I can’t promise anything for him though, because he’s so busy, but he’ll try.”
“Has he ever been here though?” she asked. “Have we ever seen him?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
She pursed her lips. “Then who’s that?”
“Who’s what?”
She stopped in her tracks and pointed at the entrance gate. “The dark haired man standing there who clearly doesn’t look like he’s here to pick up a child since he’s only staring at you.”
Shifting your head, you spotted your neighbor standing right by the gate. You had barely recognized him, because the light blond hair was gone and now dyed dark. No way! What was he doing here? And how was he looking?
“It’s him, isn’t it? Hello!”
“Hey!” You grabbed her arm and pulled it down. “It’s just… he’s an introvert. Wait here, please.”
With hurried steps, you approached Jaehyun who didn’t break eye contact along the way. Surprisingly, he was dressed business casual today, in a pair of slacks and a button up. In combination with his new hair color and the strands neatly combed aside, he looked… decently handsome. It was not like he hadn’t been attractive before, that was a thought you had always tried to push away. But now it was like a fact you couldn’t run away from any longer.
You wondered whether there was a reason. Maybe, he had a date set for later. Good for him to take the women finally out and not always straight to home. Good for him to have finally found a woman who didn’t put up with his former appearance.
“What are you doing here?” you asked him without a greeting. “This is my workplace, you can’t just appear out of nowhere!” Your gaze scanned the environment and you could tell that you two had already caught a few parents’ attention, so your expression softened. “What is it?”
“I locked myself out of my apartment,” he explained. “I kind of typed the code wrong into the system and cannot get inside anymore. So I need to open the door from the inside.”
“And how is that exactly my problem?”
“I need to crawl out of your window to get into my apartment since I’ve left it open anyway.”
You frowned. “Are you nuts? Just go to the lobby and let them call the landlord!”
“There was no one there.”
“There is always someone there!”
He heaved up his shoulders. “Maybe an emergency.”
“Then use your phone!”
“I left it in my room.”
“And that’s why you came all the way here instead of asking another neighbor?”
“I thought since I’m locked out anyway, I can just come here instead of waiting. I knew where the kindergarten was located because of an envelope that had once found its way into my mailbox by accident. And I didn’t know whether you’d return directly after finishing classes or whether you’d have a date with your imaginary fiancé.” He suppressed a chuckle. “Or other imaginary friends.”
“You find that funny, right?” you chided. “But this is the job of my life. This is my life.”
“Alright.” He lifted his hands up in defense. “Can we just go home then?”
“Yeah, let me just…”
“Excuse me, you’re her fiancé, right?” Your homeroom teacher had suddenly popped up next to you, apparently too excited to be kept waiting around. “I’m sorry to butt in, but I’m so happy to finally meet you, because none of us have known about you until today! She’s so secretive!”
Perhaps, because there was absolutely nothing you could tell about your boring life. And even if, Jaehyun surely was not included! You wanted to clear up this misunderstanding when suddenly, you realized that this was your only chance to go with your lie.
He was a man.
And he was here.
You had no other option.
There would not be another chance this easy.
You should thank the heavens that today was the day he had decided to leave his bleached hair and joggers at home.
“That’s true!” you then declared and linked arms with Jaehyun. “He came here today to pick me up since I’ve already come forward with the truth. I’m sorry that I haven’t introduced you sooner. This is Jeong Jaehyun.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jeong!”
You pinched his arm and felt how he sucked in a rush of air. Given he knew the context, he understood. You only prayed to the heavens again that he would just go with it. The logistics of this all, you would figure out only later.
“Nice to meet you too! I’ve already heard so much about you,” Jaehyun greeted back politely.
You didn’t believe your ears. Even if you had hoped so, you hadn’t actually thought that he would play your imaginary fiancé so well from the spot.
“I already suggested that you volunteer in my theater group for the school festival, but she said you’re always so busy. Nonetheless, I still hope for you to step by every now and then, or at least come by on the day of the festival itself. That would be awesome as many of the teachers’ families and the childrens’ families are also visiting. It’s a chance to get to know each other.”
Jaehyun smiled broadly. “Of course I will help out as well, that’s a given. I’ll make time, no worries.”
“Such a polite and kind man!” Your homeroom teacher beamed at you. “Where have you been hiding him all this time?”
That was a question you were asking yourself now as well.
____
“Nice furniture,” Jaehyun commented when you walked into your apartment. “But a bit too tacky for my taste.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion on my interior. I still don’t know why you just didn’t refer to the lobbyist who’s already back by now.”
“Calling the landlord and setting a new code is just too much hassle and takes up too much time. This way, it’s quicker.”
You opened the window in your bedroom and dragged Jaehyun across the carpet by his arm. “Then, get out.”
“When should I be ready?” he asked instead and turned to you.
“Be ready for what?” You blinked in puzzlement.
“The theater activity.”
“There is no way I’m going to let you join me in school!” you quickly defied him. “You’re… loud, rude and reckless! Only this one time was enough, there were enough witnesses to prove your existence.”
Jaehyun cleared his throat. “In your teacher’s words, I’m a very polite and kind man.”
“Only to authorities, apparently.”
“I can be very nice!”
“But not to me.”
“You’ve never given me a reason to be nice to you.”
You halted. “And the women you throw out every morning? You’re not nice to them either.”
“That’s a whole other story. I only throw out the rude ones, sometimes they get breakfast.”
You snorted when he grinned. “What’s differentiating me from them?”
“They’re an obligation. You’re a choice.”
“So you’ve chosen to be mean to me?”
“No.” Jaehyun climbed on the window sill. “I’ve chosen to act according to what you’re giving me. Have you ever been nice to me at all? All you’ve ever done was hammering against my wall and ignoring me whenever our paths cross. That’s not very nice. Today, I’ve chosen to do something nice for you. Can I expect the same from you? I’m not quite sure.”
And off he went, out of the window, leaving you behind with much food for thought over what had happened since you had moved in. With slow steps, you returned to your living room, taking a seat on the couch. You stared into nothingness, pondering over Jaehyun’s words thoroughly.
What did you know about him, actually? Not very much, if anything at all. Where you had spoken to your other neighbors almost in an instant upon moving in, you had never given Jaehyun a chance to properly introduce himself. You had quickly written him off as a player who you didn’t want to get involved with. What could you have in common anyway since he was so much younger?
But as a preschool teacher, you knew how dangerous it was to hold such prejudices towards people you didn’t know. This wasn’t your philosophy.
So two hours later, you stood in front of Jaehyun’s door. It was past 9pm already, but you had to do the deeds today, otherwise you were afraid that all courage would leave your body by the end of the day.
“What is it?!” Jaehyun barked, then stopped. “Oh, it’s you.”
You held out the plate in front of him, still not having gotten used to the dark hair. “Here.”
He raised his brows, looking at a simple chocolate cake. “What’s this?”
“A peace offer.”
You didn’t dare to look him in the face, but his hand finally moved and clasped around the plate, touching yours in the process. With a slight smile on his face that you encountered when you lifted your head, Jaehyun took the cake.
“Peace offer accepted. So, when’s the start?”
You inhaled deeply. “Wednesday.”
“I’ll be there.”
“But why?” you still wanted to know. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I think there might be something you can give me in return.”
Of course, there was always a catch. “And what would that be?”
Jaehyun made a meaningful pause. “Tutoring lessons.”
You nearly laughed out loud. “I teach kindergarteners, not university students. I mean, yes I studied with the focus on elementary school, but higher education is not my forte.”
“Isn’t it the same? Teaching people, who don’t know stuff, stuff they must know?”
“I don’t even know your major, your courses! How am I supposed to help you?”
“I’ll send you my sheets beforehand and you can teach me to understand the essence of them.”
You stood there, totally flabbergasted as you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the situation yet. “And that’s all that you want?”
He nodded. “That’s all.”
“It’s not on par with what you offer to me.”
He shrugged. “For me, it is.”
You didn’t know why, but you quite didn’t believe him fully. Either he bore some ulterior motives or he was so bad in university that he was on the brink of failing his classes anyway. In regard to his lifestyle, you could very well imagine the latter. Why not hire a professional tutor then? What was the point of all this?
“Fine,” you then gave in. “When do we start?”
“Tomorrow right away. I’ll send you the stuff.”
You walked out of the door, but not before shifting around to him one last time. “Your new hair color… I like it. It suits you. Though I was used to always seeing your hair first before your face.”
“I still have to get used to it as well.”
“Why did you dye it?”
“I thought it was time for a change.” Suddenly, his gaze fell on your finger. “That’s the ring I have supposedly given you? I should know about it.”
“Princess cut, two carats. Or so it seems.” You held out your hand and looked at the piece of jewelry. “Actually, it’s my dream ring, but it’s not real, just a cheap replica. I hope nobody will notice though as they surely wear diamonds much bigger than that.”
“Women… such an enigma. I never understood why they pay so much attention to an expensive engagement ring anyway. Triple the amount of the man’s salary it should be, no?”
“First, that kind of scale is already dated. Second, I share your opinion. But…” You were about to say something very private, but you felt safe enough to do it at that moment, “I haven't grown up being able to afford nice things myself let alone getting these kinds of things gifted. So the thought of me being so important to someone to invest in valuable jewelry for me means very much.”
“I see.”
He nodded acknowledgement and let you leave.
____
According to his papers, Jaehyun was studying business management.
You didn’t know much about the subject, but the papers were quite clear with what they wanted their students to grasp, and as it was indeed your job to teach even preschoolers exactly how to study the material, you didn’t see a reason as to why it would be different with your grown up neighbor.
Of course, upon entering his apartment for the first time, you had also scanned the entire space that was exactly like yours in the layout, only mirrored. Against your expectations, he was furnished and equipped quite comfortably and modernly, not too spartanic as you had expected from a young man his age. The door to his bedroom was closed though. Too bad, you were curious about that one the most.
“That’s quite a delicious cake!” Jaehyun praised as he sat down next to you at the table, the plate with the slice in front of him. “You’re a good baker, I have to admit.”
“Having to participate in many kindergarten events, you’ll get the hang of it eventually.”
“Say.” Jaehyun put his fork back on the plate and leaned in to you. “Why do you love this job so much? Aren’t you annoyed by the children? The parents? The other teachers? Having people around you all day long?”
You flipped through his papers, marking the passages you deemed worth memorizing. “Of course it gets stressful and annoying when, for example, children won’t listen, when you can’t meet the parents expectations or when the teachers put so much pressure on you. But…” A smile spread across your face that Jaehyun still encountered even though you had kept your head low. “... the reward, when they all succeed in the end, is all worth it.”
“Hm.” He kept staring at you, and his unwavering gaze made you flush a little. “Sounds legit for someone like you who loves her job so much, she’s willing to put up with a fake engagement.”
“I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am now,” you explained to him with a calm voice. “I don’t want to throw everything away because I’m an unmarried woman.”
“What’s so bad about being an unmarried woman?”
You hadn’t expected such a question. “Nothing, honestly. It just doesn’t meet their norm.”
“And when it’s all done… What will you tell them? That your fiancé left you at the altar? That you broke off your engagement?”
“By then, if you play along, I will have the job already. And yes, then I will then tell them exactly that. That we’ve broken up.”
“I see.” Jaehyun leaned back, giving you room to breathe again. “Well, if you think so.”
“Can we start with your studies now?” you asked. “We’re not only here for you to question me.”
“Of course.” Jaehyun took the fork in his hand again and broke a piece off the cake that he then led to his mouth. “Go on, what should I know?”
In the two hours you were teaching your neighbor, you came to the conclusion that there was no difference between being his teacher or one to your kindergarteners. Even though Jaehyun was a university student, you could maintain your teaching methods despite having a different subject at the base.
“I’m done!” Jaehyun raised his arms and stretched himself. “Finally!”
You closed the books and jumped out of your seat. “It’s almost 11pm already! I need to go, catching up on some sleep.”
“Ah yeah, my visitor will also be here soon, so you better hurry.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Can you please stay a bit calmer tonight for me to sleep in peace?”
He winked jokingly. “As I said, you can always join. But today, I will, as a thank you for your tutoring lesson.”
He didn’t keep his promise.
____
“Miss, how do I look?” A little boy from the parallel group appeared next to you, dressed as an apple tree. His expression radiated insecurity, but you remembered very well how pumped he had been about finally landing a role in the play. “The others are all laughing at me.”
You crouched down and took the boy’s tiny hands into yours. It was Wednesday, so this was another evening dedicated to the preparations for the festival. His costume consisted of brown pants and a green shirt. He also wore a headgear that framed his face from which apples made of polystyrene were hanging.
“You look amazing! Don’t listen to others. Your role is very much important. And you know why the apple tree is so important in the play?” He shook his head and you squeezed his tiny fingers in encouragement. “Because you’re the only apple tree. Without you, we wouldn’t even be able to perform. So regardless of what the others say, remember that you’re one of a kind, that you’re unique and very important. Okay?”
Now, a bright smile spread across his face. “Okay!”
You arose from your crouching position and turned around to let your eyes scan the hall. Then, you spotted your neighbor for whom you had waited already. And he was not alone.
With fast steps, you descended from the stage and nervously approached Jaehyun who was currently having a seemingly nice chat with a parent. And not any parent as a matter of fact. In front of him stood Shi-A schools’ main investor, and you hadn’t prepared him for that kind of situation!
You had aged Jaehyun up to one year your senior and had also come up with a background story both of you agreed on was believable enough. Of course Jaehyun couldn’t be a student in front of these successful parents who were all directors, doctors and builders. You had first suggested for him to be a lawyer, but, in his words, Jaehyun didn’t want to be “such a stuck up suit-wearer”.
“Ah, miss, there you are!” Mr. Nam, Soah’s father and the owner of several bank branches across the country, welcomed you as you joined their chat and came to a halt next to Jaehyun. “I’m so disappointed that I haven’t gotten to meet your fiancé much sooner! Such a charming and smart man!”
You looked at Jaehyun who had dressed up in suit trousers and a white button up again, his hair neatly slicked back with only one strand falling into his face. His entire presence radiated a successful businessman, inferior to no one. You were quite impressed, he looked very much believable. And insanely handsome.
“Mr. Nam, it’s so good to see you! Yes, my fiancé is usually really busy, so I’m glad he was able to make time today to help out with the preparations for the festival,” you explained.
“Of course.” Mr. Nam nodded. “I was only able to come today, because I canceled a meeting to see my precious Soah. I know what it’s like to run a business and having to miss important school events, so I talked about that with your fiancé. I didn’t know he was a COO!”
You tried to hide your surprise and forced a smile. Jaehyun had chosen to be involved in running a business according to his major, the age old enough to be COO, but not CEO yet. You just hoped he knew what he was talking about with the professionals, being so close to graduation.
“You know, honey,” Jaehyun addressed you, and it made your skin crawl how he used this pet name for lovers, “Mr. Nam invited us to his getaway in the countryside in two weeks.”
The middle-aged man nodded. “Mr. Jeong and I have instantly bonded over our occupations and our weekend getaway will help him form connections. Several friends of mine as well as parents of this school and other business partners will be present too. Your fiancé is still fairly young and new to the business as a COO, but I’m always pleased to show the next generation their way. It will be a great chance for you both.”
You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Two years of working at this school and no parent had ever invited you anywhere. But it had taken Jaehyun literally five minutes only to get invited on a weekend getaway with the main investor!
This was such a big chance for you to strengthen the bond with the most influential parents and investors, and show them that you were indeed capable of doing this job right - with and certainly without a man.
“Of course we will join, Mr. Nam!” You bowed to him. “We’re very grateful to have received this invitation.”
Mr. Nam went on with his duty of helping his daughter and Jaehyun followed you to the stage.
“You know that it’s not going to be easy during that weekend, right?”
“Yes, but I need this weekend. If they see that I fit in, they will acknowledge me as a capable teacher, even without a marriage certificate. This will be the best opportunity to win their favor and then play the broken hearted teacher who they will all sympathize with after my breakup. Only Mr. and Mrs. Nam’s approval is enough, and every other parent will do as they say, that’s how powerful they are.”
“And what does being a capable teacher have anything to do with you being married or not?” he genuinely wanted to know. “You said there was nothing wrong with you being an unmarried woman living alone.”
You stopped in your tracks and smiled crookedly. “Apparently, they pay much attention to tradition, I told you already. And an unmarried woman living alone does not live up to their expectations since they’re very conservative. But I’m sure I can prove to them-”
“This is bullshit and you know it,” Jaehyun interrupted you dryly. “If I were a parent, I would favor an unmarried woman, who is a great person herself, to teach my children rather than someone trapped in a loveless marriage, who passes on her misery to her students.”
“You’re not wrong, but what can I do? It is how it is.” You shrugged. “Are you saying you’re not with me in this now?”
“Of course I still am if you also still want it. But as I said, it’s not going to be easy.”
“Why? It’s going smooth now as well.”
Jaehyun cleared his throat. “Well… we truly have to act like a couple, you know, since it’s a private setting. With all the pet names, skinship and stuff, honey.”
Again, you cringed. “Shut up, Jaehyun, it’s not that deep.”
He laughed. “If you say so…”
You two approached the stage, stepped on the platform and immediately had a group of boys run towards you.
“Mister, you’re so tall,” one of them said to Jaehyun. “Can you help us hang these lights up please?”
“Of course!” Jaehyun agreed with genuine joy. “Where do you need them?”
“Over there, please!”
He rolled his white sleeves up his elbows in preparation. With much caution, Jaehyun took the string of lights they had been holding out to him into his own hands and attached them shortly over his head to the background of the stage.
“You wanna do this yourselves?” he then asked the boys as they came over to him with another chain of colorful lights.
“But we’re too short!”
“Not anymore now!” Jaehyun got on his knees and lifted one of the boys up in the air. “You’re tall enough now?”
The boy giggled and pumped his fist. “A bit higher, mister, please!”
“Alright!”
Jaehyun laughed along with them and stretched out his arms until the boy could reach the marked spots in the background. The child was effortlessly able to attach the lights onto where they belonged before Jaehyun set him back on the floor.
“Thank you, mister!”
You watched the scene with a smile, unknowingly. The fact that Jaehyun was this good with children had been a secret to you too, until now.
Perhaps, he wasn’t always your prick of a neighbor and there was much more to him than his nocturnal activities. Somehow, this piqued your interest and you wanted to get to know more about him in all sincerity.
____
“So, you got the gist of it, right?”
Jaehyun nodded. “Enough for me to not flunk the exam this time again.”
“Alright.” You snapped the book shut and stretched yourself. “I’ll get going now then.”
“Are you hungry?” Jaehyun asked instead when you made a move to raise from the chair. “It’s past 9 already and I’m hella hungry.”
“Well… I haven’t eaten anything since lunch and just wanted to go to the convenience store to grab a quick bite.”
“I’ll prepare dinner.”
It was a subtle invitation, and although he didn’t speak it out, he wanted you to stay for a reason you didn’t quite understand yet. Reluctant at first, you wiggled in your seat, unsure of what to do. But Jaehyun didn’t leave you much room for decision as he already opened the refrigerator and took out a sealed pack of chicken.
“Should I help you?” you asked and jumped up, eager to put this awkwardness behind you.
“Yeah, you can cut the vegetables. They’re in the fridge, I just put them in there just in case, so they’re not frozen yet.”
“Okay.”
When you opened the fridge, you spotted the cake you had given to him, only halfway eaten and frozen. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, and surely not openly, but it kind of hurt you. Yet, you couldn’t bite down a snarky remark.
“You could have just told me the truth instead of lying… that it doesn’t taste good.”
Jaehyun looked up from the chicken he was currently washing, his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Your disappointment broke through your facade eventually. “The cake. It’s still there.”
With careful deliberation, Jaehyun put the meat on a cutting board and took out a knife. “Because I don’t want to share it.”
“What?”
“I can’t eat too much sugar at once. So one, at the most two, slices of cake a day does suffice. I used to grind my teeth in my sleep, so they’re very sensitive now and hurt when I eat too many sweets at once.”
“Oh, it’s like that.” You paused. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of this problem…” Again, it dawned on you that you knew absolutely nothing about Jaehyun. If you had known he wasn’t able to eat an entire cake within a few days, then you would have brought something else. “But you’ve had enough visitors over the past couple of days to share it with them, you don’t have to trudge through eating it to the last bites, you know.”
“But I want to!” he then defended himself and turned around to you. “I want to eat it all by myself, I don’t want to share it with anyone else what you’ve made only for me.”
This was not a joke, nor a mocking comment. He meant it in all honesty. You just had no idea why.
“Okay.” You closed the door to the fridge with the vegetables in your hand now. “I’ll help you cut the ingredients. But we should probably hurry before your visitor comes, right?”
You didn’t want to sound mean by mentioning this topic, but the syllables fell from your lips much sharper than you had intended. It was none of your business anyway, but as you took the leek into your hands, you realized that you couldn’t help but to be curious about his lifestyle.
He shrugged. “It’s still a few hours, we’ll be fine.”
“But every night a different woman? Why don’t you get a girlfriend? Don’t misunderstand me, I just genuinely want to know.”
Jaehyun didn’t even bother thinking about coming up with a morally right answer. “I did have a girlfriend.”
“And?”
“It sucked.”
“Then you just didn’t have the right girlfriend for you.”
“We were together for three years,” he clarified and proceeded to cut the chicken while you did the same with the leek.
“Did she cheat on you?”
“No. She stole all my money, lied about it and disappeared from my life from one day to another.”
“Holy-” You swallowed the rest of the sentence, your cutting hand now pausing too.
“My parents weren’t very fond of her from the beginning and told me to cut ties with her as she wasn’t the ideal daughter-in-law for them anyway. But I was a rebel and wanted to date whoever I wanted just because I could. She only used me as a money machine, and everyone knew - except for me as I was in denial. The me back then was so blind and so in love. I did everything for her, and in the end, I was left alone, robbed of my money and unfavored by my parents.”
You didn’t know what to say as you hadn’t expected such an honest conversation with him. The tough and cool Jaehyun had been through some miserable phases indeed, and you somehow regretted not having asked about it much earlier.
“Jaehy-”
“It’s okay.” He brushed it off and put the sliced chicken in the pan. “Not all women are bad, I just need to pick better. Next time, I need to be a hundred percent sure she’ll be my future wife.”
“It’s odd hearing these words from a university student.”
“Why?”
“Nowadays, from my own dating experience, I can say that marriage or children are not one of the top priorities for many people wanting to enter a relationship anymore. They struggle a lot with these nowadays for so many reasons, most of which are valid, like money and economics. So I’m positively surprised to hear you’re not one of them and actually want to marry out of love.”
“Do you want to marry one day?”
This question took you aback. “Yes, for the same reason as you, actually.”
“Mhhmm. And do you believe there is someone out there for you?”
“Yes, I honestly believe it. When there is you and me already, here in this very room, then there are also more people with the same mindset out there in the world. I’m sure, there are many women who have so much genuine love to give to a man like you, even when you’re still so young.”
“A man like me?” You now made eye contact. “What do you mean a man like me?”
You averted your eyes again as you started to list while finishing cutting the leek, “You’re caring, because when we were standing outside on the night of the fire alarm, you noticed that my feet were freezing. You gave me your shoes to wear even when that meant you needed to freeze yourself. And I was so mean to you that night. You’re helpful, because you come to every single festival preparation date and support everyone wherever they need a helping hand, kids and adults equally. And not a single complaint comes out of your mouth. You’re intelligent, because even if you need my help to understand a subject, you’re quick to solve every answer in your very own way. On top of that, you volunteered to play the part of my fake financé. And to this day, I still don’t know why.”
Jaehyun was about to turn on the stove, but then stalled, looking at you partially confused, partially what you somewhat interpreted as… touched? His features then softened and he was moved by your words, you clearly saw it in his eyes.
“Look at you, Miss Neighbor. Not knowing what you’re blabbering again.”
You cracked a smile and put the leek in the pan with the chicken. “It’s just the truth.”
“I help you out, because you’re a good person who is being treated unfairly. Is that so hard to believe?”
After how you had acted in his presence before all this? It was very hard to believe.
“So you think it’s better if I stay in my old position and choose the conventional, non-scheming way?”
“I’ve seen you around the children. I think you’re too good of a teacher to waste your potential on insufferable parents who are too stuck up to question their own values.”
After this short time only, he had seen through this all, and was holding such a high opinion of you?
As you continued preparing dinner right here in room 803, of which you had never imagined setting a foot in, you came to the truthful realization that your neighbor was not resentful towards your behavior from the beginning anymore.
Then, you started to forgive yourself as well.
This dinner had been an invitation to do exactly that, and you were grateful for it.
____
“My, my… hello, miss!”
You turned around and encountered Mrs. Nam, Soah’s mother, approaching in your direction. Another Wednesday meant another preparation and practice evening for the kindergarten festival that was set to take place this weekend.
“Hello, Mrs. Nam.” You bowed deeply. “What brings you here?”
“I heard my husband talk about your fiancé so fondly last time, I wanted to meet him personally since you’re going to accompany us to the getaway next weekend, right?”
“Yes, we feel so honored. What a pleasure!”
A lie. You hated this woman to the core. She didn’t care much about Soah, but more about her reputation and appearance. Yet, she was the main investor’s wife and thus one of the people you had to convince of your capability to be her daughter’s homeroom teacher.
“I'm going to introduce myself,” she declared and strutted away.
Jaehyun was currently sitting in a circle with several kids, helping them prepare their costumes with a glue gun. The kids were talking excitedly to him, interacting with him and laughing along with him. The scene warmed your heart and you smiled the longer you observed them. Jaehyun was so popular and got along so well with them.
“Miss!” Little Soah stood in front of you. “Look what Mr. Jeong made for me!” She raised her arms and presented a golden crown to you, adorned with pink plastic jewels. “He helped me glue the jewels on. Now I’m a true princess, right?”
You smiled and patted her back. “Yes, you truly are! Here, let me help you put it on.” You got on your knees and settled the crown on her head. “All good now.”
“Miss, when you’ve married Mr. Jeong, are you Mrs. Jeong then? Should we then address you as such?”
“I guess so,” you laughed.
You weren’t worried about the rest, because you were going to break this fake engagement off anyway. But somehow, her question had caused a lump to build in your throat that you weren’t able to swallow down.
“Then I’m happy,” Soah beamed through her missing front teeth, “because I like him very much!”
With jumpy steps, she hopped away in her crown as your own expression fell. That was something you hadn’t thought about before. The fact that the kids could get attached to Jaehyun. Or the other way around. Eventually, you would need to break their world apart and rob them of a person they had gotten emotionally attached to. But that was life, wasn’t it?
“Everything alright?” You got stunned as Jaehyun suddenly appeared next to you. “You’ve been standing like this, totally motionless, for a solid minute.”
You nodded. “Have you talked to Soah’s mother?”
“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “A very annoying woman.”
“Right?!” you whispered to him with a giggle, relieved he shared your opinion.
“And she totally has the hots for me,” Jaehyun mentioned almost nonchalantly as he made his way to the stage.
“Wha-” You quickly fell into his step. “What are you saying?!”
“That she wants to rip off my clothes and take me right here and now. That she wants me to bend her over one of these small tables and make her scream in pleasure. That she-”
“Okay, okay, I get it!” you stopped him and feigned choking noises. “She favors you. It’s nothing surprising, honestly. She apparently has a weak spot for younger men and even teachers here. It’s an open secret she stays married to Mr. Nam for the sake of their business, and it’s also an open secret that some men here, teachers and parents equally, have fallen for her charms already.”
Jaehyun grinned. “Charms… Exactly.”
At the same moment, you lifted your finger. “Don’t you dare! I swear, Jaehyun, you’re involved here to help me with my promotion, not cause havoc. Stay as far away from my childrens’ parents as possible!”
Jaehyun stopped in his tracks, lifting his hands in defense. “I know, I know. I get it. Don’t worry! She’s annoying and not my type either way.”
“Because she’s much older than you, hm?”
Somehow, this assumption put you at ease, but not fully. Because, in the end, you were five years older than Jaehyun as well. You weren’t quite able to wrap your head around the reason as to why this even bothered you in the first place.
“No,” he denied. “I don’t mind age. Neither do I mind education or status, despite my parents saying so. I embrace smartness, wittiness and the gift to enrich my life.”
“And the girls you bring home are none of that?” It was supposed to be a tease, but your curiosity for an answer dominated the entire question.
He laughed, scarcely and briefly. “Hell, no!”
“I see.” This was a response you could live with very well, along with the statement that he didn’t mind an age gap.
“But this Mrs. Nam…” Jaehyun lowered his voice. “She’s neither of those qualities that I’m looking for. She’s only a shell with no personality who’s been living in her husband’s shadow and seeks quick affairs for validation.”
You were quite flabbergasted, because his judgment seemed totally on point. “Well, you nailed it.”
He smiled smugly. “You said I’m smart after all.”
You playfully slapped his arm. “This again?”
“Nevertheless,” Jaehyun continued, “you’re all that, Miss Neighbor.”
You frowned. “All what?”
“Smart. Witty. And an enrichment to my life.”
With these words, he jumped on the stage where the children already came running towards him.
And you were left behind with hot ears and a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
____
As you had expected, the school festival turned out to be a success, and with as many parents attending as possible, you had been able to introduce Jaehyun as your fiancé to everyone who was interested in finding out who that young man was, supporting and playing with their children.
It had warmed your heart, seeing how they all got along so well with Jaehyun that, the further the day had progressed, the warmth had turned into a stingy ache. The sheer fear that probably, you would never find someone like him again to replace the hole that he would most certainly leave when you had to call this entire thing off.
After all, this was only a pretense.
Wasn’t it?
____
The weekend after the festival, you drove all the way out to the countryside to spend two days in the Nam family’s second residence. Jaehyun had apparently rented a car and he was a naturally good driver, you had to admit.
The family’s holiday home consisted of three big houses in different sizes that were all connected to each other and formed a huge residence, surrounded by many acres of nature. There was a tennis court, a pool, a festive terrace, and even a few horses grazing in the fields. The residence overall looked both spectacular and intimidating to you, who had never set foot into such a habitation ever before.
“This is your room,” the housekeeper announced to you and Jaehyun when she opened the door.
You swallowed, hard. This was a fact that had totally passed by you. The room where you were supposed to spend the night only had one bed. No couch, no canopy, nothing else to lie down on except for this one bed.
“Thank you very much,” Jaehyun said gratefully, not having lost a single ounce of his composure in comparison to you who was still too stunned to speak.
He led you into the room and closed the door behind him, dropping your two bags on the floor. It was a nice room that, apart from the queen size bed, had a balcony and huge windows where the sunlight was able to stream in.
“You brought your tennis clothes, right?” Jaehyun asked, and at that moment, you were quite relieved he hadn’t encountered your sleeping arrangement problems yet or chose to purposefully ignore it. Either of it was fine for you as for now, there was another hurdle to master before this day would end: lunch, followed by tennis with the Nams, and then dinner.
“Yes, I just haven’t expected that you would be able to play.”
He snickered. “Oh, you would be surprised about many of my skills.”
“Ew, if this means what I think it means, stop it!”
“Come on, did you always have this huge stick up your-”
You lifted one finger to silent him. “Don’t say it out loud!”
“Fine,” Jaehyun gave in and shrugged. “But try loosening up every now and then, even when you’re in teacher mode. I tell you, life is much more fun like that.”
You decided to ignore him and circled the bed that was somehow ironically the center of the entire room. You then seated yourself on one side of the bed where you dumped your bag on your lap and started unpacking.
“I’m sleeping on this side and you on the other. You're gonna stay as far away from me as possible and we’ll build a wall of pillows. If I catch you breaking through the barrier at any point during the night, I’ll kick you.”
“I promise, I won’t touch you.” And then, he added sneakily, “Unless you say so, of course.”
Luckily, he couldn’t see your face as you arose and put your clothes in the closet.
Your cheeks were so heated.
____
Lunch went by fast with you not having to interact with the Nams much as you had eaten at another table. But you were able to connect with a few other parents whose favor you had won very easily - mostly thanks to Jaehyun who was perfect in his role and did most of the chit chat himself. You didn’t complain, it played all too well into your cards as smalltalk wasn’t your strongest character trait anyway.
Jaehyun nailed the late-twenties COO scheme like he was living it in reality. It was insane how well he knew about almost everyone’s work environment as though he had indeed already graduated years ago and could keep up with the other guests in regards to business talk. He seemed well-educated, eloquent and charming. He was perfect in his role.
"We’re doing well, but I feel like we could improve our international growth a bit,” one man on your table, also the parent of a child enrolled in your kindergarten, pointed out. “The European market is proving to be a bit more complex than anticipated."
"I hear you,” Jaehyun acknowledged. “Expanding into Europe can definitely be tricky. It’s a diverse market with varying regulatory environments, consumer preferences, and competitive landscapes.”
“What’s been your experience so far in terms of the challenges?” the man asked back. “Have you already tested the waters?”
You inhaled sharply. How was Jaehyun supposed to answer that?
“Yes, we did,” he replied almost nonchalantly though and sipped at his water glass. “Is it more about local market adaptation, or are there specific operational or regulatory hurdles that are slowing things down for you? Personally, I can tell-”
It was unbelievable. But you were not complaining and just let him do his job while you shifted your attention to the women at the table. One of them was the business man’s wife who had just asked about the European market, and thus a parent of the child attending your kindergarten as well.
“I heard that you were very popular among the children, miss,” she told you with a smile that didn’t seem quite sincere.
Perhaps you were just paranoid, but you believed that by now, working among mischievous children for years already, you were able to tell the difference. With another two women turning their attention towards you, you felt like you had been thrown right into a shark tank, and your lifeline in the form of your fake fiancé was in no sight but caught up with the European business market.
“I heard so too, miss,” one of the other women chimed in. “Tell us, what makes you so different from other teachers? One would guess you aren’t strict enough.”
There it was, the flash of guile that nearly simultaneously was visible in all the women’s eyes for not even the blink of a second, yet it hadn’t passed by you. You weren’t determined to let these hyenas eat you up alive, you had worked too hard to come this far just to let mean girls make you give up.
“I believe I strike the perfect balance between kindness and strictness,” you explained with a calm voice, but under the table, you were nervously kneading your sweaty fingers. “Every child knows they can always come to me, be it for struggles concerning their school experience or personal ones.”
Instantly, the eyebrows of the student’s mother raised up. “Personal struggles?” she nearly squealed, but the loudness luckily got drowned out by the heated business talk of the men at the same table.
“Does this mean you’re asking them about personal things?” the second woman pressed the topic.
Now, you furrowed yourself. What were they on? “What I mean by it is that if my students ever encounter problems of any kind that they cannot share with anyone else at that moment, my door is always open for them, and they know it.”
“For me,” the third woman intercepted, “it sounds like you’re more of a friend than a teacher.”
“Respectfully, that’s not what I said, and I apologize if I delivered the message wrongly. But-”
“Oh.” They looked at each other meaningfully and let you become quiet before the first woman picked up the conversation again. “Are you saying we are too uneducated to get the gist of your sentences?”
You were completely flabbergasted. You had already gotten to know many parents, but always in a safe environment and in the presence of other teachers where they had never acted like this in any scenario possible. Was this how the parents treated the teachers in private? Was this the environment the children grew up in and you would need to deal with on a daily basis when you got the promotion?
While you were still in your thoughts and preparing a reply in your head that didn’t consist of any curse word, you suddenly felt a warm hand wrapping around yours under the table and giving you an encouraging squeeze.
“What my fiancée wants to say,” Jaehyun interrupted confidently, but politely, “is that with the educational environment given nowadays, teachers are trained to be strict and rule with an iron fist. They are pressured to push their students towards the top regardless of their feelings and needs. Thus, the children feel pressured themselves and rarely have no authority person they can turn to.” You halted your breath, and the women apparently did as well as they looked at Jaehyun with shock over his provoking words. He was harshly criticizing the entire education system for which, to a huge part, the parents were responsible for as well. “Under these circumstances, they really appreciate a teacher like my fiancée, who does not only make sure that every child reaches its full potential at this young age, but she also gives them the feeling that not all teachers only care for their success, but also for their personal wellbeing. And if this is not a trait that more teachers need to have nowadays, then I don’t know what is. I think your children are very lucky to have a teacher with a strong message like my fiancée.”
The entire table had quiet down at this point to listen to Jaehyun’s words who still had not let go of your hand. He was right, to a hundred percent, but speaking these words out among these people was like an invitation to get you fired on the spot.
“I agree with Mr. Jeong,” a female voice behind you then said, and as you shifted around, you spotted Mr. and Mrs. Nam standing right behind you. “His fiancée teaches my daughter Soah and not only does she get the best grades, but she’s also very happy with her teacher. I think we need more teachers like her.”
This was a support you had never expected of ever receiving. From them? And then, the men at your table, followed by the women, agreed with the Nams vocally. Was it really that easy, would they go with everything this married couple wanted just to stay in this circle? It was an interesting observation.
But then, your gaze fell upon Mrs. Nam who stared at Jaehyun, and then everything fell into place.
Well, if it helped with your promotion, then you would let her look at him as long as she wanted.
As long as he only looked at you and held only your hand, just like now.
____
“Ouch.”
“I thought you were able to play tennis?” Jaehyun asked as he carried you up the stairs in a piggy-back. “I didn't expect you to trip and fall all within the first fifteen minutes.”
Even though you weren’t able to see his expression, you felt that he had to clearly suppress a laugh right now. “Be quiet, I don’t want to hear anything about it.”
“Ah, did someone maybe sugarcoat their skills a bit too much? To your luck, the Nams were just as shocked and cared more about your wellbeing than your lack of skills, so all’s good. I believe they found it rather endearing.”
You grumbled and lowered your head, resting it on his shoulder. Jaehyun had regularly only worn loungewear, so you had never quite made out the shape of his body. Or you had never been particularly interested in it. But now that you were being carried on his back, you couldn’t help but feel his strong muscles tense beneath your body, lifting you like you weighed nothing for him.
It was true. You had only taken three tennis lessons and had then dropped it for the lack of time and motivation. But since this had been not too long ago, you had thought the experience would suffice. You had been so, so wrong though. Mr. and Mrs. Nam were immaculate and Jaehyun didn’t fall short on them.
Was there something he did not master?
“Who are you even?” you asked Jaehyun when you were finally through your room’s door. He placed you on the bed where he inspected the wounds on both your knees. “Honestly, Jaehyun. It’s like you’re not only blending in, you’re really… living this role.”
Jaehyun approached the door to leave again and get a first aid kit, but not without pivoting back to you one more time and saying with a meaningful and nearly reproachful tone, “You still haven’t cared enough to get to know me on a deeper level, right? All you wanted to know so far was about women, not me as a person. You’d wonder how easy it is to find information about my family online if only you know enough.”
And with that, he left you alone in your room with not only scraped and bleeding knees, but a heart that slowly started hurting nearly just as much.
It was true. You had been too busy with preparations for the upcoming events, pulling through your scheme and working towards a potential promotion, that you had not once put a single thought into Jaehyun as a person. You had wondered at times, but had never really made the effort.
Wasn’t that what he had preached about you earlier? That you were so open-minded, the children could always come to you? So why did you lack this skill when it came down to your personal life? That was probably also very much the reason you barely had friends left anymore. Too selfish, too focused on your career and only using people for the sake of your own benefit. Like Jaehyun.
But you didn’t want to continue with this behaviour anymore and eventually become like the parents here, so bigoted, condemning and toxic. You couldn’t let that happen to yourself.
So you did what Jaehyun had wanted you to do all this time: You just looked up his name online.
… And stared at him with your mouth agape when he returned to the room with the first aid kit.
He stood by the door, unsure how to proceed. “So, you know.”
You threw your phone on the bed and folded your arms across your chest. “Why did you never tell me?”
“Well, did you ever ask?” His gaze was sharp, but he didn’t seem reproachful anymore as he had most likely caught on the deep regret reflected in your eyes. “All you ever did was assume based on what you’ve seen or heard in some cases. Assuming I was some lazy student with nothing in my mind except for women. There were enough hints given by me for you to look through this facade. But you never cared in the first place.”
That was true, but it was also part of your job. Children were more likely to never tell you what was going on in their lives, so you had to be really attentive as a teacher. Most of the time, you were right about their current feelings, especially the struggles, despite them not talking about it.
This skill apparently didn’t apply to adults as you had gotten proven wrong several times today already. Adults were way smarter in hiding who they truly were, only revealing what they wanted others to see. Jaehyun was the perfect example.
“I’m sorry.” Your head dropped and you only heard how Jaehyun shifted in his position, followed by his footsteps approaching you.
He then knelt in front of you and opened the first aid kit as he started talking, “The corporation is my parents’ business, I have nothing to do with it and don’t want anything to do with it.”
“All this time, I thought it was just a company that you’ve made up yourself when you talked to the businessmen during lunch.”
“Of course my position was made up, and it won’t take them too long to find out that a certain Mr. Jeong, who coincidentally holds the same last name as its CEO, is indeed not a COO, but an entirely different man.” He took out some disinfectant that he then sprayed on your hurt knees. You inhaled sharply and under much pain, but were determined not to make a sound. “I’ve grown up in this business environment, so naturally I’m very conversational in this matter if you had wondered about that. I just know a lot of business chit chat to make them keep talking, nothing that needs too much deep dive into a topic. I also took tennis classes when I was younger and the car we came here with? That’s also mine.”
You gulped. You had not even asked about the car at all. All that you had been doing was assuming and assuming and assuming. You had pegged him as a lousy student from the very beginning, and not once had it crossed your mind to ask him about anything.
All you ever had to do was ask, and he would have replied in all honesty - just like now.
“You said you wanted nothing to do with your parents’ business,” you repeated his words when he gently patted your knees with a clean cloth. “Why?”
“Currently, I’m still under my parents’ guard and sadly also financially bound to them. I didn’t have another choice after what happened with my ex, even though I really despise my current situation. I was lucky enough that they didn’t cut off my financial support altogether, otherwise I couldn’t study at all. But at least I can live alone and thus can taste a bit of freedom and independence. They expect me to join their business after my graduation, even though I refused so many times already.”
“What do you want to do then?” You were genuinely curious now. “If not joining their business?”
“Start my own business.” He then pulled out a long string of band aid and cut respective pieces from it, two in the sizes of your injuries. “I was able to enroll in this top university with a promise to my parents that I will join them after my graduation. Hell will break loose when I come forward with the truth though, but I will pay it all back to them. That is why I’m now saving up as much money as possible to be independent after my studies. There are so many varieties of fields business management is useful for.”
Gently, Jaehyun put a bandaid on your injury, one on each side. His touch was so tender, almost feathery-light, and you shuddered comfortably. “What kind of business do you have in mind?”
Jaehyun shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but I will eventually find out. After my graduation, I want to travel around first and go to Europe, see a little bit of the world. And then it will all fall into place, I’m positive about that. If anything, I don’t want to be dependent on my parents anymore and follow in their footsteps. I want to be my own person, I need to be.”
“The bleached hair… the women… when you only hung around in joggers… Was that some kind of rebellion?” A glimpse into a life he had never been fully able to live out under his parents’ guard. A bit of fun.
“Let’s say I got raised very strictly by my parents, just like the children in your kindergarten, so I can very much relate.” That was why he could grasp exactly how the parents and children felt. He had grown up in this exact environment. It all made sense now. “My mother nearly fell off the chair when she saw that I’ve bleached my hair and wanted to send me to a hairdresser right away. My father stopped bothering me about joining business meetings. It worked all to my favor. It’s not that I’m not grateful that they still help me out, they just haven’t learned to respect my own wishes. Maybe one day, when I’m successful too, they’ll eventually understand.”
“So, why did you agree on doing this with me then?” you wanted to know when Jaehyun put the utensils back in the kit. “Just to practice your skills for the future? For the connection? Because I don’t believe you need that much tutoring after hearing all this. Or was it solely for fun?”
“Perhaps,” he interrupted hesitantly, “I just wanted to help my Miss Neighbor when she needed someone without asking for anything in return, because nobody ever helped me. Is that too far off when I need to answer this question again? Does it not fit your narrative?”
Nobody ever helped him? Ouch.
So people could really be selfless. People like Jaehyun.
Even though you were older, you were still able to learn so much from him.
“You don’t fit my narrative at all,” you reluctantly confessed. “But I am willing to change it.”
He lifted his head to face you and smiled in agreement. “There you go, all good now.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you too.”
“So, Europe,” you picked up the topic again, swung your legs onto the bed and leaned back into the pillows. “Which countries excite you the most?”
That afternoon, you learned that Jaehyun had never been outside of the country, which really shocked you considering how wealthy his family was. But you also learned that, as the only son of successful business people, there had never been more to his world than his parents’ own little world. They had offered to send him abroad to study, but he had declined as he had never been on his own and got cold feet. Something he deeply regretted now.
You realized that Jaehyun had been living under the pressure and expectations of his strict parents all along and was only now slowly discovering the world. The fact that he fully went out in university, additionally with another woman by his side almost every night, was a response to his upbringing. You had studied this in your major.
It was the mere acts of a boy who had only discovered freedom, as he should.
“Living on my own was already a huge step towards independence. I can’t wait to see more of the world,” he elaborated, sitting on your bedside now. “Have you already been somewhere out of the country?”
“Japan and Vietnam, yes,” you replied and yawned. “But that was a long time ago, even before I studied.”
“You’ve never been to Europe either?” You shook your head. “Then you should consider coming with me.”
“I’ll probably be a teacher soon, Jaehyun. Even now, I hardly get any time off, so sadly, I won’t be able to do that. But it’s nice to dream about it. Maybe in the future it will be possible.”
“Hm.” He arose from the mattress and suggested, “You seem tired, how about you take a short nap until dinner? I’ll wake you up then.”
“Oh, that would be nice.” You yawned again. “But what are you going to do until then?”
“Making sure you'll get that job you really want.”
He was fascinating you more and more with each bypassing day.
____
During dinner, you were seated at the Nams’ table, exactly at the opposite of the married couple. You didn’t miss the fact that Mrs. Nam seemed to be in really high spirits, and she and her husband had asked about your wellbeing more than once.
“Tell us, Mr. Jeong, how did you meet your fiancée?” Mr. Nam eventually wanted to know from Jaehyun.
You had prepared yourselves for this, you had made up an entire story about your first meeting with all the details someone could be curious about, and the rest you would just improvise. Jaehyun was supposed to say that you had met in university since you had both aged him up to fit the storyline.
“We first met when she moved into the apartment next to mine.”
Thank god you were already done with the main course, because you were sure you would have choked on your grilled beef they had served earlier.
“It was early in the morning, just a few days after she moved in. She was in a rush and I had just come back from an all nighter at the library. It was exam time and I suppose she was also in a hurry because of these circumstances.”
At least Jaehyun stayed true to the fake story by making you both university students. But what was he up to, why didn’t he follow your plan in all details?
You desperately tried to lock eyes with him to give him some kind of signal to stop this, but he ignored you on purpose and just smiled at the guests while telling the story. Though he reached his hand out to your lap, searched for your fingers and embraced them as though in reassurance. Reassurance about what when he was not acting according to the plan at all?
“I was in the lobby, about to get on the elevator when the doors opened and a young woman stormed out of it. She had her bag in one hand, books and her jacket in the other, as well as a cup of coffee balancing on her fingers. She unsuccessfully tried to close the lid with the hand that was holding her bag.”
Wait…
This was not a made up story. You vaguely remembered being in such a situation shortly after you had moved in. Instead of running late to university, you were running late to work, because you had calculated the commute time wrongly from this part of the city, even though it was closer to the kindergarten. You had successfully wiped this memory out of your mind, for the reason of…
“She was so caught up with her stuff that she didn’t see me and just stormed out of the elevator as soon as the door opened,” Jaehyun continued and earned a few giggles from the listeners. “She bumped right into me and the next moment, I had her coffee all over my shirt.”
… for this exact reason. It was too embarrassing to be kept as a memory. And the guy from that fateful having turned out to be Jaehyun himself was the cherry on top. Why had he never said a word about this incident?
Your embarrassment visibly showed on your cheeks as their color changed, gaining you a few amiable gazes from the guests.
“She barely looked up as she apologized and tried to drop all her things to clean up the mess.”
“But I didn’t,” you remembered, speaking out loudly, “because you said I should hurry up and go to wherever I needed to go right now, and then cleaned everything up yourself.”
“Exactly,” Jaehyun laughed and a few joined. “You apologized three times and ran out, and I cleaned up the mess with the help of the lobbyist. I knew someone in such a haste had to be somewhere important early in the morning, and I didn’t want to be a hindrance to that, even though I didn’t know you yet.”
A few women at the table let out an “awww”, Mrs. Nam being one of them.
Now, Jaehyun turned to you and met your confused face with a confident expression of his own. “I had barely looked up,” you added, “because I was too embarrassed, so I couldn’t remember your face. I was just hoping that I would never meet that person again, whoever it might have been.”
Jaehyun addressed the guests and declared, “Fate was not on her side when it turned out to be her next-door-neighbor. Luckily for her, I never mentioned it.”
Laughers from all sides now and you had a hard time keeping your mouth closed that was constantly on the verge of falling agape at this story. You had had no idea.
“Why not?” you then pressed the topic, your role threatening to crumble as you quickly filled in, “I think everyone here is curious as to why you have never told me until we got together.”
“Because I knew how hard working and busy you always were.” You returned to looking at each other, now unsure whether he spoke through his role or spoke as Jaehyun himself. “And I didn’t want to teeter your attention and let our first meeting get overshadowed by an embarrassing moment for you that might bear negative echoes. From that day on though, I was determined to win you over another way and kept this story a secret for later on. I just haven’t expected how difficult that would be.”
“A real gentleman,” a woman commented and she gently nudged her husband in the side.
“For two months, I was trying so many things to get her attention. But it turned out to be rather challenging, because this woman wouldn’t look at me even once if it was not for pouring coffee all over me.” Jaehyun covered his face with the back of his hand as if shyness threatened to break through. “I held the door open for her, waited for her in the lobby, took the same elevator or coincidentally ran into her in the convenience store. All to no avail. She didn’t spare me a single glance again. Not even when my attempts went more…” He paused and withdrew his hand, letting a serious expression full of regret flash by his face before it returned to his gleeful mien, “... vocal. I think at some point, she even started resenting me. But for me, it was enough. She finally recognized me.”
You didn’t know what to feel. It was a totally new story for you, and you were so sure he had just come up with it. But on the other hand, the entire storytelling sounded too real, too full of details and emotions to have just been made up on the spot.
And the way he looked at you while telling all that... It was a story for the public, but the way he delivered it, the way he still held your hand under the table, indicated that he was telling it to you, and only you. The entire table, even the room, didn’t exist anymore, only you two.
Your fingers started to tremble.
“So, how did you eventually win her over?” Mrs. Nam asked curiously and Jaehyun’s gaze swiftly shifted to hers before returning to you.
“I found out she needed help with a small favor, so I offered it to her. As to not make it so obvious and awkward for her again, I feigned to not be as good at studying as I actually am and needed to get tutored by her. Otherwise she would have never accepted my help without giving anything in return, or the feeling of it. And the rest is history.”
The crowd was partially in awe and partially shocked at this bold move. You belonged to the latter. Was this still part of your scheme? Then why was he telling the story so close to the truth?
“Mr. Jeong saw what he wanted and went for it,” Mr. Nam concluded. “That’s a true businessman here.”
“How did you react?” Mrs. Nam then wanted to know from you. “Finding out he schemed his way into your heart?”
It was supposed to be a funny remark, but you were not amused by it one bit. Yet, you brought yourself to crack a smile that was far too crooked to be genuine and shook off Jaehyun’s hand from yours.
Luckily, no one noticed.
Except for Jaehyun himself.
“I was totally shocked,” you answered Mrs. Nam. “But it turns out his scheming abilities have become really beneficial for him as he’s always geeting what he wants, am I right?”
Everyone at the table failed to notice your disappointed tone and made the connection to Jaehyun’s business skills as they all started talking again, first complimenting his traits, then falling back into a talk about what to invest in next.
Dessert arrived the next moment, but as you looked at the Panna Cotta in front of you, you didn’t crave for it one bit anymore. In fact, you felt sick to your stomach, and Jaehyun, whose hand now was placed on your thigh in a comforting gesture to make amends, was the cause of all this.
“Excuse me,” you quietly apologized, but nobody noticed you arising from your seat and then disappearing into the hallway.
Jaehyun followed you instantly.
____
“I’ve been in love with you since the first time we met. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Shut up, Jaehyun, I don’t want to hear a single word anymore!”
He was right at the other side of the door, waiting patiently while you were sitting at the other side in your room, grabbing your head in despair and trying to string together the words that had just come out of his mouth.
“But it’s true,” he said with a softer voice now. “What more can I say for you to believe me?”
“All these women…” It just didn’t make sense in your head. “You wanted me and still were with all these women.”
“I was only with them, because I couldn’t be with you. Sometimes, I’m just… a little boy still. What else was there for me to do when the woman I love wouldn’t even look at me? I’d rather had her look at me with disgust than not looking at me at all.”
A long pause followed.
“Yes, you’re just a little boy, Jaehyun. You’d rather trick me than tell me the truth straight up.”
“What would you have said if I had one day just appeared at your doorstep and asked you out? Me, a student, five years your junior, who cannot even compare to the men you meet every day at your job? Sometimes, I regretted wanting to go a different path than what my parents mapped out for me just so that I could keep up with them. But I thought, if you finally got to know the real me, all my other qualities, you would eventually see that I am indeed a match to them. A match for you.”
“But that is no valid reason to lie to me! First the tutoring lessons that you clearly didn’t need just to spend time with me, then…” You gasped. “Had you also lied about getting locked out on that day you appeared at the kindergarten?”
The day he had suddenly exchanged his casual clothes for decent ones and had dyed his hair back to dark. That had not been a fateful coincidence. The fact that he had come to your kindergarten on that exact day dressed like that, it had all been carefully planned.
“I knew you probably thought I wouldn’t be the right candidate for that role with my appearance back then, so I wanted to prove to you that I, indeed, was the best choice with my background, and adapted according to the circumstances. I genuinely wanted to help you, even if not for selfless purposes only. I wanted you to want me too.”
“You tricked me, you manipulated me, and you schemed all your way into my heart.”
You heard him shuffle through the door, probably as perplexed as you were as you repeated your last words in your head. Oh no. You were grateful that he let it pass by him though.
“I’m deeply sorry. I am just a boy who didn’t know how to handle his feelings and who was used to getting whatever he wanted. I think I still have a long way to go to grow up.”
You pulled your knees close to your chest and hugged your arms around your legs. “Why today? Why did you choose today to reveal everything? In front of all these people? Was it one of your schemes too?”
“Not once did I have in mind that I wanted to hurt you. I came out with my feelings today, because they were genuine, and your reaction would be genuine too. And it worked, everyone out there believed it. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Yes, this was everything that you had wanted. But why was it hurting so much then? Not only because Jaehyun had gone through all these lengths to make your dream come true, but also because you had wasted this much time together. So, so much time.
“So what if I disposed of you right after this?” Your voice sounded icier than it was supposed to, and he noticed it. “Would you have told everyone the truth out of spite?”
“After all, is that what you still think of me?” His pain was almost palpable and you regretted your question right away. Perhaps, because you wanted him to answer differently, but he replied just like you had secretly wanted him to, “If I had helped you make your dream come true, and you had still chosen them over me, then yes, I would have been very hurt. But I would have been happy for you, too. Isn’t that what love is about?”
This was probably the most mature thing he had said to you today. “And if I had chosen you?”
“After tonight, I believe that if it comes down to me and them, you would pick them.”
Was that what he was thinking of you now? Your heart ached when you asked, “Why do you think that?”
“I saw what you’re dealing with, what you try to achieve. You are too much of a hard worker to throw this all away for a normal student with no real plans, no perspective. Someone who can offer you nothing but a promise that he will work hard to help you achieve everything you want.”
A student with no perspective. Was that how Jaehyun saw himself?
Yes, he had grown up in a business environment and surrounded by wealth, but he was an enrichment to your life without all that too, in ways your workplace and the people in it had never been. Yes, you loved your job and your students, they were the center of your world, and you were working so very hard for achievement after achievement.
So hard that it had totally passed by you that you yourself had been the center of the world for someone, and it was actually nice to finally have a person look at you when you had only been overlooked by exactly these people before, who you were trying so hard to impress. And what for?
Jaehyun might only offer promises, but he always made sure to live up to them. Wasn’t this worth so much more?
“I’ll go downstairs again,” he then announced quietly when you didn’t say something in an uncomfortable long time. “If you don’t feel like coming, you can stay here and I’ll find an excuse, don’t worry about that.”
Your front teeth sank into your bottom lip. Jaehyun had been right. Perhaps, you would have called him an idiot for having asked you out the very first day you met.
“Idiot!” you called out to him now for a whole other reason as you opened the door and dashed after him.
With much surprise twinkling in his eyes, you now stood in front of him and crossed your arms.
“What?”
“You’re an idiot,” you repeated. “If you believe that after everything, when it comes down between you and them, I’d pick them, then you’re an idiot. Because I’d pick you.”
Jaehyun didn’t have much time to process what you had just said as you slung your arms around his neck and pulled him down to you.
The moment you kissed Jaehyun for the very first time you realized that all of this might not have entirely been a scheme at all, from both of your sides.
He kissed you back with much passion and fierceness, and you felt that exactly these feelings had been lingering inside of you as well.
You just weren’t sure for how long already. In the end, it didn’t really matter.
____
“Here?” you asked Jaehyun with widened eyes when you fell back on the bed.
He crawled on top of you. “Do you think I’ll wait any longer for this?”
“But everyone is still downstairs, finishing dinner.”
“Good,” he whispered and kissed your neck. “Then no one will hear us.”
You chuckled when his playful pecks turned into sensual kisses and he eventually started sucking on the sensitive skin. Goose bumps spread all over your upper body, and you couldn’t remember when you had last been with a man while Jaehyun… You balked.
Immediately, he heaved up his head, looking at you with a surprised expression. He stroked your temple. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t want to admit it. The fact that you felt intimidated by his experience despite you being older. That you felt inferior to all the women he’d ever let in his bed that were far prettier than you. Or so you thought.
But Jaehyun didn’t share your opinion when you hesitantly tried to explain your worries to him.
“You don’t have to worry about any noise coming from my apartment anymore. Because you’re the only one who’s gonna lie in my bed from now on. Okay?”
“Okay.” You giggled when he kissed your cheek. “I really like that.”
Jaehyun sat back up on his knees while suggesting you to keep laying still. He reached out his hands and unbuttoned your blouse. You helped him take off the piece of clothing by winding your body to the side for better access. He then brought his head down to the beginning of your breast and placed a light kiss on a spot that made you shudder.
With both his pointer fingers, he then searched for the straps of your bra and pulled them aside. You wiggled your arms out of the tightness it had provided, having Jaehyun drag the underwear down enough only for your breasts to lay bare. You turned your gaze to the ceiling and hoped he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks as you weren’t quite sure what to do or how to behave anymore.
But Jaehyun, on the contrary, knew exactly what he was doing and how to behave. He put your nipple between his lips and started sucking on it, supporting his body with one hand. A pleasurable feeling streamed through your body whenever he wetted the mound and had his teeth gently tug on it.
With his free hand, he massaged your other breast that had still remained untouched, and the blissful feeling of being pleasured on both sides suddenly started coiling between your legs where you already felt Jaehyun growing hard in between.
“You like that?” He was suddenly up by your ear again, muttering, “By the sounds you make, I take it as a yes.”
You had made sounds? You hadn’t been aware of that, but Jaehyun seemed to enjoy it very much, judging the way he beamed at you.
He helped you up to a seated position so that you were able to take off your bra entirely before he let you fall back onto the mattress. Jaehyun had his own shirt unbuttoned and on the floor the next moment, and you swallowed a gasp at how well built he actually was. Prominent muscles showed off abs and his arms were unexpectedly muscular. You stared at him in awe, somehow desiring to have his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
“Like what you see?” He flashed a grin.
Jaehyun was on his knees now, fiddling with his belt that he intended to open, but you couldn’t wait that long to finally touch him. So you arose from your position and grabbed him by his belt yourself. With one swift motion, you had him freed from this barrier, but didn’t withdraw your hands right away. Instead, you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants yourself.
Jaehyun stayed patiently silent during your actions, his hand entangled in the hair at the back of your head. When you were about to drag down his pants, a huge bulge was already foreshadowing what you would find underneath. Yet, you still let out a gasp when you slid down his boxers and his cock sprang free in front of you.
You lifted your hands, but then halted. “May I…?”
You didn’t know if asking was even necessary, but given that it was your first time with him, you wanted to be sure that he really wanted his intimate favors to be returned.
“You may do whatever you want with it,” Jaehyun growled in anticipation of what was about to come.
You cupped his entire length with one hand and watched in amusement how his head rolled back in satisfaction. His chest irregularly lifted with each breath when you started moving your hand up and down.
You cracked a smile, speeding up your motions that then elicited moans out of Jaehyun that he eventually successfully suppressed through gritted teeth. People were still dining downstairs, but you also didn’t want to risk being overheard. With your thumb, you slid over the tip of his dick that was already wet and sticky from his precum.
You looked up to Jaehyun who turned his gaze down to you, probably wondering why you had suddenly stopped. But then he found you looking at him with much lust, bringing your thumb to your mouth from where you then licked up all his precum.
It was one of the hottest things Jaehyun had ever seen, and he immediately brought your faces together to kiss you passionately and fiercely.
Not much later, you were laying on your back again, entirely naked this time, and Jaehyun was settled between your legs, his elbows braced against the mattress on either side of your head. He nudged you to open your thighs, and you were more than willing to finally welcome him.
Jaehyun did everything in his might to reassure you as you distorted your face at the sharp pain shooting through your lower abdomen upon him entering you with his tip. It had been a long time, so your body was not adjusted to this kind of stretching anymore, and it let you feel it.
Jaehyun moved very slowly though, with pauses in between, until he was fully sheathed inside of you. And eventually, when he stilled to let you adapt, pain turned into the long awaited pleasure. Suddenly, him filling you out so fully was not an inconvenience anymore, but something inside you screamed for him to go deeper than that so that you would feel more of him.
Your fingers interlaced in the back of Jaehyun’s neck and his lips came down to kiss you over and over again. He wanted to be assured that you were really okay with him continuing before he ultimately started stroking.
It still stung when he withdrew himself. But after only two thrusts, you felt nothing anymore except for the ungraspable desire for him to push inside you again. And again. And again. Whenever he pulled out, you couldn’t bear to have him in this position for too long, because you wanted him to hit the spot he had just found. And again. And again.
“Shhhh-” Jaehyun halted and laughed quietly before kissing you. “You want everyone to hear you now?”
“Oh!” You brought your hands in front of your mouth to suffocate the moans that you apparently had let out unconsciously. “I’m sorry!”
“Don’t ever be sorry. You can moan if you don’t mind them.”
But you shook your head. “I don't want them to hear, but I just can’t help it.”
Jaehyun nodded in understanding and started thrusting into you again. And again, you let out a moan despite your efforts to keep your lips sealed. You slid your arms under his and hugged his back. Simultaneously, you brought your legs up and hooked them behind him. The bed shook under you, but luckily it was not making much noise.
Gently, you bit into Jaehyun’s shoulder to muffle your sounds, and as he didn’t react to it with a wince of pain, you got assured that it was okay for him. On the contrary, he got even braver now. Where he had seemingly been holding himself back this entire time, he was now grabbing the headboard and used it as a support to speed up his stroking game.
He slammed into you over and over, and you were holding onto him like a lifeline now with your head buried in his chest. Your thighs tensed around his hips as you felt the pleasure that had accompanied you all throughout the act coiling up to a destructive ball between your legs. It tugged on every fiber of your body, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on it, otherwise, you thought, it would tear you apart.
“Oh, Jaehyun,” you breathed, your nails digging deep into his skin on the back. “I-”
You let out a long breath, very well aware of the fact that when the feeling finally came crashing down on you, you would be in no position to hold in the noises that would pass your lips.
You then were petrified, eyes widening in shock when you suddenly overheard steps and noises in the hallway. People had finished dinner and were now returning to their rooms, it seemed. There was no way you could now end this with noises!
Jaehyun was very well aware of your surroundings too though, but was not determined to let anyone disrupt what he had been dreaming to do to you for months already. He nodded in silence and pressed you back down on the mattress. With his palm flat, he then covered your mouth, but made sure your nostrils were still free for you to breathe properly. You looked at him with glistening eyes, your arms now loose around his neck.
“Scream,” he summoned. “Scream all you want. I’ll make sure nobody will hear you.”
And you did.
You screamed your heart out into his hand when you came undone beneath him, fingers scratching over his shoulders and toes curled up as your entire body convulsed. And he drowned every single sound so that nobody could hear you except for him only.
When Jaehyun let go of you with a sneaky grin, your mouth was dry and your vision blurry, but you could still watch his sweaty chest arise above you when he prepared himself for his own heights. Deep toned moans entered your ears and you smiled softly as you let him cum all inside you with a few more thrusts that eventually slowed down.
Jaehyun fell limply next to you, but, with his remaining strength, he still managed to pull you up to his chest so that you could find a comfortable spot there. It was already dark outside and you heard one door close after another, indicating that people were now ending the day.
“So, you still want to sleep with a wall of pillows between us?” Jaehyun teased and played with a strand of your hair.
You laughed when you remembered how you had initially been so worried about the one bed setup.
Now, it was very conventional.
____
You only remembered falling asleep and dreaming soundly in Jaehyun’s arms after two more rounds of muffled screams and shaking orgasms.
When you woke up much later, still in the middle of the night though, those arms that had held you warm were no longer wrapped around you, and your bed was missing his body.
Your first thought was that Jaehyun had fled and your heart jumped to your throat. That he had realized he didn’t want you after all and just dropped you like that. That you were, in fact, unlovable.
You slowly started to calm down again though when you saw his bag still laying where he had placed it and part of his clothes that he had worn the evening before still neatly folded on the chair in front of the dressing table.
“Jaehyun?” you asked carefully when you got out of the bed and threw on your pajama pants and a t-shirt.
You approached the bathroom, but no light was coming from inside, indicating that no one was in there after all, and when you eventually opened the door, you found out that you had been correct.
Where could he have disappeared to? It was so odd.
You slid into your slippers with the intention of leaving the room as quietly as possible. You knew you could have also waited for Jaehyun to return, but something inside you wouldn’t be able to casually get back to sleep without an anxious feeling, so you needed to get rid of it in an instant and find him.
You didn’t need to look for long though. The moment you opened the door, he was already standing right in front of you, not less surprised by your sudden appearance as vice versa.
“Where have you been?” you whispered when he closed the door behind him after stepping into the room.
With a swift motion, he held a bottle of water in front of you. “I was thirsty, so I went to get something to drink from the kitchen.”
“Oh…” You had been so anxious for nothing.
“What?” he grinned when he went over to the table and placed the bottle on it. “You thought I sneaked out in the middle of the night?”
You shrugged and seated yourself on the bedside with a long sigh while Jaehyun opened the water bottle and drank from it. “When I woke up after my nap this afternoon, you weren’t here either. I know you went to the talk with the Nams, but…”
Jaehyun placed the bottle down again and closed the lid. “Were you afraid I had suddenly left? Or worse… that I was with another woman?”
“Well…” You averted your gaze by turning your head to the side. “You’ve been with many women after all. And I’ve always heard everything.”
Jaehyun didn’t respond until he stood in front of you and had your face cupped with his hands. “What if I tell you that throughout this childish act, there has always been just one woman I wanted to be with, and now that I have her, I don’t need anyone else anymore?”
You lowered your gaze and smiled reluctantly. Despite the darkness, you saw the entire truth flicker in his eyes and believed every word that he said. Why shouldn’t you after all? He had done all this just for you.
“I believe you.”
“Very well.” He kissed you and crawled back into the bed to where you followed him. “So, what should we do when we return home tomorrow?”
You first got on your knees and fluffed up your pillow. “What do you mean?”
Jaehyun grabbed you by your arm and pulled you towards him. The next moment, you laid with your stomach flat on top of him and he brushed through your hair, gently kissing your parting. “I don’t mean we have to get married by the time of your promotion. Yet.” You blushed, but luckily he couldn’t see. “But if you start going out with me, I’d be just as happy, Miss Neighbor.”
You braced your arms against the mattress and lifted your upper body up so that you could wind yourself and face him. “If you think I would ever give up that spot next to you on the bed now, then you’re so wrong.”
“I like the way you think.”
A deep kiss followed, only interrupted by your muffled whimpers when he pulled down your pants and nudged hard between your legs again.
____
You had parted with the hosts on magnificent terms with Mr. Nam exclusively promising you that he would vote for you to get the job. As of this weekend, you, with the help of your fake fiancé turned real boyfriend, had proven to be the best candidate for the soon to be open position, and if anyone still thought otherwise, Mr. Nam would convince them himself.
Mrs. Nam had only silently nodded, seeming displeased over something, but you didn’t bother too much about her mood swings since you had never liked her anyway. If you had her husband’s word, then nothing else mattered anymore.
You had one week left to prepare yourself for the meeting with the board, but since everything seemed to be home and dry, you could relax most days and spent every night at your neighbor’s over there in room 803.
“Scream,” Jaehyun had said the first time you went next door, sitting naked on top of him with your hips locked on his. He had let his hands roam over your cheeks and squeezed tightly into the flesh. “You can scream as loud as you want here. Don’t care about the neighbors.”
And, as a matter of fact, the screams that came out of room 803 from that night on, only belonged to you.
____
“I’m very sorry to deliver this message to you, miss,” the director said, “but we cannot offer you the position at our kindergarten in this city.”
In front of you, you visibly saw your whole world shatter.
What had gone wrong? Had you not spoken to the Nams just last weekend, who had promised you that you had secured the position already and the rest were only formalities? What had happened in the past days that must have apparently changed their minds completely?
“I’m sorry, I think I might have misunderstood,” you apologized, “I assumed the parents who are also part of the investor group, for example Mr. and Mrs. Nam, also have a say in this. Do they not?”
You had already been welcomed with a dreadful feeling when you had opened the door and only found the director sitting in the room. None of the others had been present unlike the last time. Still, you had hoped that you were wrong.
“Oh, they do, miss. Actually, every parent has approved of you.”
“Then, what changed your mind?” You had a really hard time keeping your voice at a respectful level. You had done everything they had expected of you. Save from… “Is it because I’m still not married? They all know I’m engaged and they know my fiancé. I can always hand in a copy of the certificate later, but we do not have a date yet.”
“Miss…” The director lifted up his hand, smiling this time. “I said we cannot offer you the position at our kindergarten in this city. I repeat the last words: in this city.”
Your brows drew together in skepsis. “So that means…” You didn’t want to speak out loud what you were thinking as you didn’t know yet whether these were better or worse news.
“Congratulations!” The director arose from his chair, rounded the table and approached you. “We offer you the position of an elementary school teacher in one of our Shi-A schools in Busan!”
“In… Busan?”
It was odd how the city’s name was the first word that resonated in your head. Not “elementary school teacher” which even meant a significant upgrade from your current position. But the city’s name. A city on the other side of the country where you would need to move to if you accepted this position. Which meant in retrospect that you had to move out of your current apartment, away from…
“Miss?” The director looked at you curiously. “Are you not pleased about this?”
“I am!” you corrected yourself. “I am truly happy over the fact that you offer me an even higher position now.”
“Fantastic! We are aware that you will have to move then, but don’t worry about the logistics, we will provide for all expenses you need. You can start with the new semester, so there is plenty of time. Isn’t it fortunate?”
He wasn’t aware of the fact that this, indeed, was really unfortunate for you.
____
Not long after you had gotten the work contract to read through and sign until the week after that, you were standing outside of the director’s room, petrified to the core. Too many thoughts were flying into your head that you struggled with to organize.
This was your dream. This was your dream coming true, yet…
“Not happy about your new position after all?”
In front of you stood Mrs. Nam, arms folded across her chest, standing high on her heels. Her lips were curled up to a smile that was all too wicked and did not resemble the persona she had shown to you the majority of the past weekend.
You were at a loss for words as you couldn’t define her expression, but she was happy enough to help you out when she explained, “In the beginning, I fancied your fiancé very much. I thought he wouldn’t say no to a bit of fun with me. Nobody ever had. Until then. Or should I better say… fake fiancé?” Your mouth fell agape, but you were quick to close it with a hard swallow. “Yes, my chin also dropped when I overheard your little conversation after dinner.”
“Let me ex-”
But she only lifted her hand to gesture to you to stop speaking. Her nostrils flared, anger clearly mirrored in her eyes. “After our tennis match, before I found out the truth between you two, I met with him and suggested that he would come to me during nighttime. I had so much fun watching you being all giddy during dinner, knowing that once you’d be asleep, he’d slip into my bed.”
You needed a moment to process everything she had said. When you had been asleep, Jaehyun had met with Mrs. Nam who had then offered him a place in her bed? You were furious. A married woman making advances on a taken man… you had heard about her reputation among the childrens’ mothers, but never had you thought that one day, you would become her victim too.
But more so… Another thought suddenly cut off the air in your lungs. “Jaehyun has not declined?”
Her eyes narrowed. “He hasn’t declined.” Your heart dropped. “When we met during the night, I didn’t mention what I found out. I didn’t care if it meant I could see him more often. But he had recorded the entire conversation and then dared to blackmail me. That bastard had followed his own plan all along. He told me that if you wouldn’t get this position without him needing to share my bed, then he’d play it to my husband, to the entire board and the school if necessary. I told him that if he did that, I would tell everyone you weren’t even together. Unfortunately for me, unlike him, I didn’t have any proof.”
Suddenly, you felt like you could breathe again. Jaehyun hadn’t declined her invitation, because he had his own scheme mapped out and wanted to help you all along.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” you asked sharply. “Luring taken men into your bed as a married woman?”
She raised one brow in questioning. “As far as I know, he hasn’t been taken at that time, am I right?” Unfortunately, she was, but you kept quiet. “The men I’ve been with have never once been happy in their marriage or have drifted apart from their partner already. At best, they already had affairs going on. The only mistake I made this time was choosing someone who I thought was a naive kid. My fault.”
“Is that why you’re sending me away? To get revenge on him for doing what was right and not betraying me?”
Mrs. Nam slowly moved her head from one side to the other. “I’m not sending you away, otherwise my husband would start questioning. I’m giving you a choice. Either stay here in your old position or move to chase after a more glorious future. After all, that’s what you want, right? The lengths you’re going through to get what you want? What’s making you so different from me, then?”
She had thrown the truth over you like a bucket of ice cold water. You had lied your way into the promotion and dragged Jaehyun along with you in the process. Were you really different from them? It was written all over your face, apparently.
“Exactly.” Mrs. Nam grinned. “You remind me of me when I was younger. I also wanted power and wealth, and eventually got trapped in a loveless marriage. I’m not heartless, miss. After all, it only takes me a few phone calls to ruin your fake fiancé and everyone related to him. His little audio has nothing on my power.”
“Then why?” The contract was rattling in your shaking hands. “Why give me a choice in the first place and not fire me on the spot?”
“My daughter adores you very much, she talks about you every day.” A flash of regret passed over her face, but before you could catch the entire meaning of it, it had already vanished. Perhaps, she cared more about her daughter than she had let seen past, but failed to show it. “Back in the days, I made the wrong decision on what to choose. Perhaps, I hope, you’re going to make the right one.” She turned on her heels and lifted up her hand as though she wanted to bid farewell to you. “I’m sure you’ll know what to do.”
The contract was still shaking in your hand long after she had left.
____
When you walked into Jaehyun’s apartment later that day, your face was still like stone, the contract also still in your hands.
On your entire way back home, you had read through each paragraph over and over again. It sounded too good to be true. Nearly the double amount of salary, more days off during vacation and your own assistant teacher. You were offered to teach the first two years of elementary school and if necessary, they would even provide housing for the first three months.
This was everything you’d ever worked hard for and dreamt of.
“I got offered the position of an elementary school teacher from next semester on,” you declared nearly absent-mindedly as you sank down on the couch and handed him over the contract.
“Congratulations!” Jaehyun wore a solemn expression on his face when he flopped down on the cushion next to you. “You want to celebrate?”
His happiness pulled you out of your thoughts and you faced him with an agonized expression. “There is nothing to celebrate about this, Jaehyun! The position is in Busan! That’s on the other side of the country!”
“Okay calm down…” When you made attempts to arise, he touched your upper arm and indicated to you to stay seated. “I know where Busan is. That’s no problem. I’ll just go with you, because I’ll finish university in two months anyway. And after that…”
You cracked a pained smile. “After that you want to go to Europe.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need to go to Europe. I can go with you and find a job there.”
“And not living your dream? What you have worked so hard towards after you helped me achieve everything that I wanted? You want to drop that?”
He looked at you like you had just uttered the most ridiculous question someone could ask. “You’re more important to me than that dream.”
“Was that what you also thought when you blackmailed Mrs. Nam?”
Jaehyun drew in a sharp breath. “So you know.”
“You lied to me again!” you yelled. “When will you ever stop lying to me about serious stuff, Jaehyun?”
“I was about to tell you as soon as I knew about the offer, when your position was secured! I saw the chance and I took it! What did she tell you?”
You told him about your encounter with the parent and had arisen from your seated position by the time you finished, walking around the living room in nervous circles now.
“She didn’t just suggest it,” Jaehyun opposed. “She told me, for you to get this position, I’d need to sleep with her, otherwise she would tell her husband what a bad teacher you are. And I was absolutely not going to do it, so I thought if she dared to blackmail me, I could do the same and pretend to be interested just to let it all blow into her face. What would you have done if you knew? There was absolutely nothing you could have done! I turned the situation to your advantage!”
“She could have come forward with the entire truth! She could have gotten me fired and your true identity revealed!” You came to a halt in front of him on the couch and he took your hand into his, trying to calm you down. “Do you know what that could have meant? If you had informed me, we could have tried to figure it out together!”
“And then for you to resent them and quit what you were working so hard for? I was not about to risk that! I was only acting in your best interest.”
You wiggled your hands out of his and shifted around, away from him. “You put both of our futures at risk by doing that, Jaehyun! What if exactly the opposite had happened? What then? Would you have taken responsibility for it?”
He didn’t say anything for a long time and you braced your hands against the table, losing a long breath.
“I just… I just wanted to help.”
“I didn’t ask for your help! I never had! Look at what happened!”
You were just so, so frustrated. You had only gotten this offer, because Jaehyun had interfered. You had only been invited to the getaway weekend, because Jaehyun had interfered. You had only fallen into the parents’ favors, because Jaehyun had interfered.
Had you achieved all this without him as well? Something inside you was assured that you wouldn’t have.
And you resented him for that.
“In the end, you’ve ruined everything I’ve planned and worked so hard for! Had you not come into the picture at all, then I would have gained their favors myself! After I’ve gotten the offer, I would have announced my separation and everything would have been fine!”
Suddenly, Jaehyun was behind you, turning you around by your shoulders. “You know that’s not true,” he said calmly. “I know how these people are, and you now know too. It wouldn’t have worked.”
Yes, you knew. That was why your resentment was so strong. Everything you had ‘achieved’ was ‘achieved’ through a man, with the help of a man. Even the board had only consisted of men, and in the end, Mr. Nam had given you his permission after having bonded with Jaehyun, not yourself.
This was not entirely your own achievement. Everything you had worked so hard for, was in vain in the end, because Jaehyun had only needed to do a bit of small talk, play with his charms, and they were butter in his hands.
Yet, it still hadn’t all worked out in your favor.
“I also have the option to stay, but only in my old position.”
“As I said,” Jaehyun interrupted you with a gentle voice, “I’ll go wherever you go.”
But you weren’t sure whether you wanted this.
You moved past him and grabbed your purse from the couch. “I need time to think.”
When you walked out of Jaehyun’s apartment, you found two neighbors in the hallway, talking to each other.
One of them was Mrs. Choi and the other person was the neighbor with the dog. They were trying hard to pretend that they hadn’t eavesdropped all the yelling coming out of room 803 earlier as opposed to the usual noise, and greeted you, but you just ignored them.
That night, you didn’t return to Jaehyun’s room.
____
When you had first voiced the desire to become a teacher, your priority was to support and foster children who really needed special attention. Those who got overlooked in school, who suffered from the intense pressure and who possessed talents that weren’t recognized.
You had landed the assistant teacher position in that prestigious private kindergarten, because you had been sent there from your former teacher’s program when the previous one needed to be admitted to the hospital due to severe burnout. She had never returned and you were able to stay as it was in the middle of the semester. It had been sheer luck.
As an assistant teacher, you were only doing that: assisting. None of the things that had driven you to study this major could have come to use yet, and you were tired. You wanted to become a real teacher, because you thought you could finally get the wheels rolling this way.
Jaehyun saw it in your eyes the moment you opened the door. “You’re going to Busan.”
You bit into your lower lip, nodding almost noticeably. “I’ll go to Busan.”
“Without me.” He smiled in defeat.
“Yes.”
“Is it so hard for you?” he asked. “To just let people you love into your life?”
“It’s not that I go because I don’t love you.”
He had you in his arms and inside his apartment before the first tear fell. “I know. I love you too.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as tears dropped onto his shirt and lifted your arms, holding meekly onto the fabric. “You’re just so young and you’re going to finish your studies soon. You shouldn’t go with me.”
Quietly, he whispered into your hair, “I know.”
If Jaehyun went with you, he would give up his dream of finally breaking free from his parents and seeing the world. You were not going to rob him of that. If you didn’t go, you would need to give up your own dream, and he wouldn’t want that either.
Perhaps, it was because you were older and more experienced than Jaehyun, but you had felt from the beginning that whatever you had started was going to find an end soon anyway. There was just no future for two people who were at such different stages in their life.
Sometimes in life, there were no winners in love.
You snuggled up to him more and sobbed, “I’m really grateful for what you have done for me. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to come so far.”
In the end, you had come to your senses. You were not going to throw his selfless acts away and accepted the gift he had been willing to give to you without anything in return. Just because he selflessly loved you. As simple as that. You were willing to pass this message on to everyone who needed it.
At his age, perhaps it was really this simple to love so fiercely and unconditionally. Later in life though, he would realize that it would take much, much more.
“Nonsense.” Jaehyun chuckled lightly. “You can achieve anything you want, you know that. You were just in the wrong environment. You can still-”
You shook your head and withdrew yourself from his embrace. “It wouldn’t change anything. You helped me achieve my goal and I’m not going to stand in the way of yours. You never dreamed of staying here after your graduation. If you do, even with all the love you hold for me now, you’re going to resent me one day, and I don’t want to take credit for that. Perhaps you don’t understand now, but you will in the future. You have to go.”
Mrs. Nam was wrong. You didn’t choose wealth and power over love. There was a third option. You chose your dream. And Jaehyun should do that too.
“When I’ve finished my travels and started with my business, can I come find you again?”
He wanted a sliver of hope, a silver lining. If it put him at ease, you would give him that, even if the chance was so less, you wouldn’t even dare to dream about it in secrecy.
“I’ll wait for you.”
With the kind of lifestyle Jaehyun had been living before you, you were sure that he would forget about this sliver of hope all too soon.
When he met girls in other countries, he would forget about his neighbor in room 804 at his former apartment complex who had always been so mean to him. Soon, you would only be a blurry picture in a string of memories, joining the ranks of his many, many lovers.
He would not suffer too long, if at all.
He would be fine, knowing that in the end, you still had picked them over him, just like he had initially predicted.
When Jaehyun kissed you goodbye, you were quite sure that this was the last time you would ever see him again despite living next door, which made getting over this breakup even more painful.
Back in your own room, you took off your fake engagement ring and put it into the far corner of a cramped drawer.
Whenever you went to bed the following days, you hoped that noises would start coming out of room 803 again.
You were scared that without the noises, he would hear you cry yourself to sleep every night until you nearly passed out from exhaustion and only woke up with a swollen face the next morning over the pain of your heart breaking apart.
But no noise could be heard ever again coming out of room 803.
And it broke you even more, knowing he was suffering as much as you.
____
Two months later, in late December, Jaehyun moved out.
You came home to movers carrying box after box out of his apartment. You had lingered a bit longer at your front door, heart pounding at your throat, just to get a glimpse of Jaehyun for one last time. But he had not been present that day. When you left your apartment a few hours later to grab dinner from the convenience store, his room was entirely empty.
According to the semester plan, he must have finished his last exams by now, so he was unofficially done with his bachelor studies. You doubted he would come back for a ceremony in February, so he was free to do whatever he wanted now. Perhaps, he was sitting on a plane to Italy or France at this very moment.
A few days later, an elderly woman moved into room 803.
And life went on.
____
One year later
“Teacher, what are you going to do during vacation?” one of your students, a four-year-old-boy, asked.
It was the day before winter break, but working for a public kindergarten meant you would at least get a week to yourself during New Year in January apart from desk warming the remaining break. A week in two months of winter break and thanks to public holidays only, but it was better than nothing at all.
“Perhaps,” you answered while putting one hand crafted paper star after another that the children had made for christmas on the classroom’s windows, “I’ll take a little trip.”
“To where?” another girl, one year older, chimed in. “I’m going to Busan to visit my grandmother!”
“I’m going to Busan too!” the boy then announced. “Teacher, have you ever been to Busan?”
You shook your head, reaching for another star he held out to you. “I’ve never come to visit there. Can you recommend it?”
“Yes!” Both children yelled excitedly.
“Then I’ll ask you where I should visit when I go there!”
They nodded in acknowledgement and returned back to their work which was crafting more stars so that the entire windows would be covered in them by the end of the day.
Twice a week, the kindergarteners were divided into different groups which either focused on art or music. The main subjects taught were reading, writing and maths. Apart from that, the children had enough free time to enjoy being real children, which they spent playing together, being outside and getting taught other necessary educational topics like brushing teeth and healthy nutrition in a playful way.
In comparison to Shi-A private kindergarten, where the teachers had paid homage to the parents with impressive courses including Chinese and English, topped with real diplomas and graduation ceremonies as well as teachers who had to work all throughout each break, this public school was where you felt you belonged.
This was where you finally felt you could actually support the children like you had always wanted, in an environment safer for them and their teachers.
And that was the very reason why you had never signed the contract for Shi-A elementary school in Busan in the first place.
In fact, you had never planned on doing so. How else would you have convinced Jaehyun to leave after everything? Just because you couldn’t live your dream didn’t mean he shouldn’t either.
You had never picked other people over him, you had always picked him.
Before you had gone to him to break up, you had thought about the upcoming decision for very long. You had loved those children, but eventually, they would move on and forget you. While you would have been stuck in a slave contract in a worse environment than before with parents from hell. All the money and other benefits could have never made up for the mental suffering.
It had always been your dream to work for a reputable private school, but one day, you had remembered the little girl inside of you who had not wanted reputation and recognition and was only there to help children.
So you had quit altogether.
And then you had eventually landed a job as a teacher at this public kindergarten where the salary was much lower and the commute took over an hour one way, but the work conditions were much better and the teachers and children just as lovely. The parents were not less strict, but tolerable and nobody tried to sabotage anyone.
Yet nowadays, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was still not everything to your life as a teacher. This could not be it, there had to be more you could move in this entire system. You just couldn’t point a finger as to what it could be as this was everything you had ever dreamed of having.
“What are you going to do during our time off?” you asked your assistant teacher.
“I’m going to meet my boyfriend’s family for the very first time, they’ve invited me to spend New Years with them,” she giggled shyly. “I’m so excited. And you?”
You smiled, happy for everyone who had plans except for you.
“Perhaps, I’m going on a little trip to Busan. I’ve never been there before.”
____
It was already late when you arrived at home, and as always during winter, it was dark outside now as well.
While you typed in the door code combination, you wondered which convenience store food you would get for dinner today as again, you were too exhausted to cook something yourself. A small vacation would surely help you relax and start into the new semester more fresh. Yes, you should definitely go to Busan.
You halted though when you opened your front door. Had you accidentally left the lights on?
You hurried through the narrow hall, at one point wondering if you had been robbed during your absence when a voice spoke up before you even reached the living room,
“I still remember your passcode from the day I climbed through your window.”
Jaehyun arose from your couch and your breath caught.
He was still as handsome as the last time you had seen each other over a year ago. Nicely dressed, hair still dark and neatly combed aside. He looked healthy and happy, and it made you happy too to see him like this.
At one point, you had dropped your bag on the floor while you could do nothing else but stare at him and stare, wondering if this was a dream. One of too many from the past year, of which you had never hoped could ever come true.
“What… are you doing here?” You didn’t know what else to say, you had so many questions.
“I’m living here now.” With a grin, he pointed at a suitcase in the corner of the living room. “Temporarily.”
“Well…” You cleared your throat and feigned braveness. “As far as I remember, your room is the one next to mine, room 803.”
“Yeah, but sadly that one is already occupied by a very nice, elderly lady who was quickly able to assure me that you were still living here.”
Before you could think twice, you had already closed the distance between you two, and he held you tightly in his arms, quietly, for a very long time.
“You liar,” Jaehyun eventually said, with no trace of reproach in his tone though, pressing you even closer to his chest. “You big, fat liar. When I called Shi-A elementary school in Busan. They told me they never heard of you, and when I called your former kindergarten, they said you quit a year ago.”
“I’ll take credit for being a liar this time as opposed to you.” You smiled through your tears when Jaehyun gently pushed you away from him and cupped your face. “I didn’t want you to stay here with me. I didn’t want you to give up on your dream just because I did.”
“Say no more. I understand." His expression was so gentle, his face free of any worry and doubt. “I was a regular student with no real perspective and just one dream. You just told me to do what a good teacher would have told all their students. This time, all the trickery rightfully belonged to you, but I would be really happy if we stop that now.”
You nodded, your tears salty against your lips, but Jaehyun kissed them all away from your cheeks. “I’m so glad you came back,” you sobbed.
“I told you I would.”
It had never been only a sliver a hope for him. It had always been a promise.
“But what if I wouldn’t have been here anymore?”
“Then I would have come to Busan or to wherever in the world to get you.”
You blinked through your blurry vision. “To get me where?”
One corner of Jaehyun’s lips tilted up when he let go of you. “Eventually, my parents came to their senses and didn’t abandon me like they always threatened. The longer I traveled and the more people I met, the more I realized that with my background and roots, I am able to achieve something, to change something, and far faster than anyone else. I am so privileged and took it for granted when I can twist it to an advantage instead of being a selfish brat. When I have the possibility and opportunity, I don’t want to throw it away. So halfway through my trip, I was just building connections for my future. I will join my parents’ business after all, but not to work for them, but for myself. I will build my own sister company.”
“Jaehyun, that’s amazing!” you congratulated him. “I’m happy you figured out your future path! I can assure you, you’re going to do such a great job.”
Sometimes, it just took someone a few months off to figure out where they belonged, what they wanted. If he had followed you, he might or might have not come to the same conclusion. You couldn’t figure out an answer. But what mattered was that he had one after all.
“So all throughout your Europe trip, it was not only drinking and girls?” you teased.
“Please.” He waved aside. “Everyone was annoyed by the fact that I kept talking about one woman only who I would return to eventually.”
You blushed. “Still, you told me you came to take me. To where, tell me?”
Jaehyun’s expression turned stern, but hopeful. “To the UK. That’s where I want to build my company, kind of like an overseas branch. I still can’t offer you much, but in a few years, I promise you, when my business is flourishing and we live in a nice townhouse in the center of London with a small garden and a dog and children, you won’t regret it. But…” He halted as though a sudden thought had crossed his mind. “But if you have already found someone who can offer just as much now or even better, then I understand if you decline.”
“How many?” you asked while losing a breath you had been holding in.
“What?”
“How many children?”
Perhaps, that was it, what you were missing. Perhaps, you weren’t supposed to work in this environment for the entirety of your life. Perhaps, just like Jaehyun, you were destined for so much more, for another path, and that path was perhaps not etched into the grounds of this country.
How were you supposed to find out if you didn’t try just like he had?
“T-two,” Jaehyun responded, unsure whether it was the right answer.
He could have said one or ten for all you cared. “Sounds good. I should then tell my fiancé our engagement is called off, because he wants three.”
“...what?”
You shook your head and laughed. “There is no fiancé, neither real or fake. There… hasn’t been anyone since you.”
“Good. It’s good to see you so happy and carefree finally.” Jaehyun approached you and put his hands on your waist, drawing you close to him. “And I’m relieved there is no other man. Because when I’m going to propose to you, it’s going to be for real this time.”
A smile radiating pure bliss left your lips when you got on your toes and finally kissed him.
You were blissfully unaware of the fact that Jaehyun had already picked out the ring before he had left the country, one identical to your fake one, just made of platinum and adorned with a real diamond. Princess cut, two carats. Just like you had dreamed of.
He had carried it with him whenever he went, like a lucky charm.
The ring was a reminder to him that there was always a reason to come back.
Because his future wife was waiting for him, and she deserved everything she had ever dreamed of.
Jake is known as the city’s famous drift king, a legend in the illegal street racing world, completely untouchable and invincible. However, when you're assigned to work undercover as a racer for an investigation, you don't expect that getting involved with Jake would mess with your morals and most importantly, your heart.
PAIRING: — Street Racer Jake x Cop Reader (f)
GENRE: fluff, a bit of angst, super suggestive, smut, slow burn, illegal street racing au (inspired by fast and furious)
WARNINGS: lots of heavy making out (pool, car, bedroom, bathroom) yeah they're freaky, a bit of dirty talking, petnames, skinship, small slow burn, mentions of alcohol, guns and drugs, fighting, a little bit of cursing, morally grey characters, mentions of death, etc. Jake is blonde from the beginning till half of the story. Enhypen OT7 + one oc for the plot.
WC: 23k — masterlist
— Author Note: Guys I know this is long but it's totally worth it, I swearrr. I've been thinking about writing this for a long time and it's finally hereee, so I'm really happy. Hope you guys like it ♡
The tire tracks on the asphalt formed a random pattern that not even forensics could figure out how many cars had passed by. The smell of gasoline was as natural as the dew that night.
As the loud music contrasted with the sound of laughter from the countless people there, you mingled through the crowd with your arms crossed, trying to get a better view of the 4 cars positioned in the middle of the track. Your low-waisted jeans bothered you as you felt the wind hit the small skin patch on your back.
“It's the king!” One person shouted and the crowd began to make room for a red convertible to pass and park next to the 4 positioned cars. “Make room for the king to pass.”
The applause and cheers were deafening as Jake stepped out of the car. His bleached hair shone in the streetlights and his smile was almost mesmerizing. He had an aura that was noticeable from afar, no one there could take their eyes off him.
He was leaning against his car with a tall man beside him.
“If the king is present today, then it will be a good race.” A girl next to you commented and you looked at her trying to get more information about that environment “Who's this king? Can he drive?” You asked and she looked at you with a look of shock, as if the question was absurd “If he can drive?” She scoffed “Do you know what DK stands for?” You shook your head and she looked back at Jake. He looked eager to see tonight’s competitors. “It means Drift King. Besides being an incredible racer, he is also the best at drifting.”
You somehow knew he was a key player in all of this, but apparently, he was much more respected than you expected. He clearly is the leader who brought people together there.
“How can I meet him?” The girl gave a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head negatively. “No one can get close to him like that, only the best racers.” She looked into your eyes and whispered “That is, if you fall into his good graces.”
You remained silent, watching as the sound of the car engines warming up shook the environment. A few guys seemed to be trying to get Jake's attention, some with explicit flattery and others with fearful comments disguised as compliments. He remained unfazed, looking through the crowd as if nothing could shake his inner peace.
“Alright, the race is about to start.” A young boy with a few piercings in his ears stood in the middle of the cars talking about how it would all work. “Rules are simple, entry is 2 grand in cash and winner takes all.” The racers looked at each other through the open windows of the cars and Jake smirked at the tension in the air.
“Ready, set,” the boy yelled, “Go!” He lowered the flags and the crowd went wild with the sound of the cars speeding away. Your eyes lit up as you saw how the whole scene seemed to fit together. The loud music, the night lights casting shadows that nicely adorned the custom cars, and the smell of burning tires.
As the race went on, you watched Jake's face from afar. He seemed to have everything under control with a melancholic look as he watched the cars turn at exorbitant speeds.
You weren't used to this environment. It was different from anything you had ever seen or experienced in your life, which increased your curiosity. You were starting to realize why these races would attract so many people's attention. The customized cars, the adrenaline of the races, and the smell of nitrous oxide were somehow fun.
As they crossed the finish line, the people there cheered as they saw the winner get out of his car. He gave Jake an expectant look as if he wanted recognition. Jake just smiled and without saying a single word turned to get into his car and leave.
You walked away from the crowd and left the place thinking how this is going to be more challenging than you thought.
☆
“Congrats on your promotion.” Jay approached you with that gentle smile that only he knew how to give “I'm glad we can work together in this case.”
You smiled and bumped his closed fist “Yeah, me too.” He sat down next to you at the huge conference room table. Your boss, who was already seated, silently looked at you both before turning on the computer and starting the meeting.
“Finally, we can start the meeting.” Your superior cleared his throat and turned on the slides. “As you know, the new drug in circulation is causing many problems like sudden deaths in young people in their 20s, but the only clue we have about the culprit is in the middle of these illegal races.”
A photo of the places in the city where the races would probably take place appeared on the screen. “Our informant got the information that there are probably some drug dealers from the creator of this drug in the middle of the races. If we capture at least one of his drug dealers, we can get to the culprit.” He looked at you. “What were your impressions of the place?”
You sighed “The easiest way to infiltrate and talk to the people there is to gain the trust of their leader.” Your boss and Jay paid attention to what you said “He is the most respected by people there. He is tough and is not impressed by ass-kissers, so I need to make a good impression.”
“How do you intend to gain his trust?” You gave your boss a side smile. “I have some ideas but I need you to cooperate with me.”
“Are you sure about this?” Jay looked at you worriedly “I think it’s too risky.” You leaned back in your chair “I trained for this, you don’t need to worry.”
Your superior nodded his head and sighed “What do you need?”
“I pick the car and I do things my way.” You leaned across the table and smiled. “To catch a king’s attention, you have to be the perfect entertainment.”
Your boss smiled in satisfaction. “Great. You start on Monday at your new apartment and job. Jay will cover for you during the week with whatever you need.” He stood up from the table before looking at the two of you. “Be careful.”
Jay looked at you and gave you a confident smile “C'mon my favorite racer.” You smiled, standing up with him patting his back “Let's go find a stupid dealer.”
The night seemed as exciting as all the others, but for some unknown reason, Jake felt that tonight's race would be different. He stood on the hood of the car watching the crowd approach the cars while drinking an energy drink to wake himself up. He was tired from the work he had in the car workshop earlier, but he wasn't going to sleep early.
“What are you thinking about?” Sunghoon walked over with his hands in his pockets “You’re quieter than usual.”
Jake smiled and swallowed the rest of the energy drink he had in his hand. “I was thinking about how I want to see an exciting race today.” He looked at Sunghoon. “I don’t wanna see a race that makes me regret not going home to sleep.”
Sunghoon chuckled and sat down next to Jake “Let’s watch and find out then.” He looked ahead to see more cars arriving at the scene. “But it looks like we’ll have some interesting things today.”
From afar, some familiar convertibles arrived, but one car in particular caught their attention.
A pink Toyota Supra MK4 arrived in the middle of the crowd, making everyone look at the car that had a red fireworks design on the sides. The men whistled in awe of the machine and the girls seemed excited to see that the driver was a woman.
When the door opened, you stepped out of the vehicle as if you were used to it. Jake looked at you from afar and gave you a mischievous smile “Who's that?” He asked biting his lower lip, analyzing you from top to bottom. Your denim skirt with some chains, your long black boots, and the tight pink blouse that adorned your beautiful body.
Sunghoon smirked “I have no idea, but I want to know.” He and Jake looked at each other before getting up from the car and approaching the place where you were talking to a racer.
'hey baby, wanna see my car?' 'let me see what your front can do pretty.' A few men around cat called you, but you just ignored them rolling your eyes and focused on showing a confident posture. You knew you had to focus on your mission and the first step is to make an iconic entrance and gain trust from the drivers.
“Damn babe, what a machine.” A boy who clearly looked younger than you approached your car looking at all the details “Wanna show what you got in there?” He pointed to the hood of your car and you approached him with your arms crossed.
“Not yet.” You smiled and the boy ran his hand through his hair “ C'mon, don't play hard with me.” He pointed to his car “I can show you mine.” You slightly turned your head to the side thinking of his proposition and he smiled “I'm Ni-ki by the way.” He held out his hand and you shook it gently “I'm Y/N.”
You smiled before bending down slightly to open the hood of your car. Jake watched the interaction (and your thighs) with curious eyes.
“Since you are so curious, here.” You showed the engine of your car and Ni-ki approached, narrowing his eyes “You're kidding me.” He widened his eyes in shock “You got a cool-air intake, NOS-fogger system and a T-Four Turbo with nitrous injection?!” You nodded and he gave you an airy laugh “That's crazy shit.” He suspiciously looked at you “Wanted to keep this a secret for the race, huh?”
You smiled and closed the car hood before sitting on top of it. “Exactly.”
Your little interaction were interrupted by the crowd greeting Jake and Sunghoon who approached you.
“What's up Ni-ki.” Jake fist-bumped Ni-ki “Sup king, gonna race tonight?” He shook his head and turned to you “Nah, today I want to see the new talents.”
You smiled at Jake who was staring at you shamelessly “You're new here.” He spoke to you and you rejoiced internally knowing that you managed to get his attention “I am, and you're the famous king I've heard of.”
The people around cheered and Jake walked over to stand in front of you “Didn't know I was famous.” His deep voice answered you and you stood up again “You are.” You crossed your arms and looked at him smiling “I was kinda hoping you would race tonight, that's sad tho.”
Jake ran his hand through his blond hair with a smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I want to see the newbies today.”
You nodded your head “That's good, because I'm racing tonight.” Sunghoon smiled and spoke to you “So you wanna race.” “Yeah.” He looked at Jake and smiled . “Since it's your first time here I should tell you the rules.”
His gaze was attentive and Sunghoon pulled a wad of money from his pocket. “You need to pay if you want a chance to run in our race.”
“How much?” Jake twirled the ring on his finger as he looked at you curiously “2 grand in cash. This or nothing.” He held out his hand and you stared at the tall man’s hand in front of you.
“Can I offer something better?” You asked and Sunghoon’s eyebrows arched “It depends on what it is, newbie.” He checked you out “What you got in mind?”
“Here's the deal, if I lose winner takes my car, clean and clear. But if I win,” You turned to Jake and smiled “I take the cash and I take the respect.”
Jake approached you, looking into your eyes, and shot a smile that could blind anyone nearby “You want my respect?” People around laughed “For some people that's all that matters.” He smiled in surprise at your response, clearly enjoying the conversation.
You stared at each other for a few seconds and Jake looked at Sunghoon with satisfaction in his eyes “Let her race.” He walked to his best friend’s side before turning to look at you one last time “Wanna see what this newbie has to show us.”
You smiled and Ni-ki whispered beside you “You're crazy. If you lose your car, you're gonna lose more than just 2 grand.” You turned around to Ni-ki “Then I just need to win.” Your gaze followed Jake and Sunghoon before he went to get in his car for the race that night.
☆
All 4 cars lined up on the track and your car was the first in line. On your right side was Ni-ki with his car, and then two more cars with a girl and another boy you hadn't met yet.
You looked to your left and saw Jake looking at you with an enigmatic smile.
Now would be the moment when you needed to put into practice everything you had trained. You knew you were a good driver because you’d already done many police chases, but this was different. You had to focus on everything at the same time and calculate the exact moment to overtake the other cars.
You started the car and pressed the clutch and brake holding the car in place. The volume of the cars engine along with the tires was so loud that you could barely hear the girl who was between the 4 cars.
When the flags lowered, you released the brake and accelerated with everything you had. The sprint the car made in seconds made you remember why you trained so hard for this, the adrenaline was indescribable. Ni-ki came out first and you soon after him. The other 2 cars stayed behind you two while the crowd went crazy.
You increased the speed and pressed the clutch, putting the car in 4th gear, while turning the car to the right slightly, blocking the girl who wanted to overtake you at all costs.
Ni-ki was the first to use nitrous oxide (NOS), creating a larger space between the two of you. “Too soon, boy.” You laughed before accelerating and putting it into 5th gear. Ni-ki looked in the rearview mirror and saw that you were approaching faster than he expected and he needed to save the last boost of NOS for the end of the race. “Shit.”
Jake was having fun as he watched the race from afar “She’s good.” He commented and Sunghoon let out a small laugh “Indeed.”
You pressed a button on your steering wheel and activated the NOS, passing by Ni-ki, giving a smile to the boy who frowned. “Sorry, gotta take the lead.”
When you turned around the cone that was positioned at the end of the street, you pressed the clutch downshifting and turned using the handbrake, not letting the power drop too much and slid smoothly, giving a slight drift before accelerating with everything. When you looked at your rearview you saw that Ni-ki wasn't going to give you a break.
The front of Ni-ki's car almost touched yours before you swerved slightly and you saw him smiling in the rearview mirror. "I need to end this kid now.”
His car caught up to you and you were side by side. Before he could retake the lead, you activated the last of your car's NOS and accelerated with everything you had. In a surprise, you saw the car of the boy who was in last place pass Ni-ki and almost catch you.
Ni-ki saw that the one who had passed him was Jungwon, so he decided that either he used his NOS at that moment, or he would not even have a chance of being 2nd place. Jungwon blocked both sides, not giving Ni-ki an opening, moving the car in a zigzag that irritated the boy. “Man, I hate when Jungwon pulls shit like this.” He decided to accelerate slightly to the right and push Jungwon's car to the left, hitting the right taillight of his car.
Jungwon got angry and pressed the accelerator, but Ni-ki was still pressing his side and used the last NOS boost to retake 2nd place. You, who were approaching the finish line, saw that Ni-ki started to hit the back of your car to slow you down and you blocked his view and stepped on the accelerator, making your back stick to the seat behind you and your hair fly back with the wind and the adrenaline hitting you.
Ni-ki managed to stay by your side again with a smile, but before he could celebrate you threw your car against his, making him brake slightly and you passed the finish line by seconds. You slowed down and braked until the car stopped completely and the crowd covered your car with applause and whistles.
Ni-ki arrived right after you, followed by Jungwon and the other girl last.
Your heart was racing with adrenaline, but you smiled happily at the victory. You got out of the car, greeting some girls who were celebrating around you as Jake crossed the crowd, clapping slowly with a look of satisfaction that let you know that you had done a good job there.
“You did it. Congrats on your victory.” He smiled and took the wad of money from Sunghoon and threw it into your hands. “You got the cash.”
You held the money thinking about how you’d never made so much money in such a short period of time “What about your respect?” Jake looked into your eyes that shone with a kind of anticipation that he found adorable. “That too.” He held out his hand and smiled. You shook Jake’s hand, feeling the calluses on his large palm. The way he looked at your orbits disconcerted you as if he could see right into you.
“That was crazy.” Ni-ki spoke to you, drawing your attention and making Jake let go of your hand. “Can't believe you hit me with your car.” You smiled before seeing the 2nd and 3rd place finishers arrive “Learned that from you.”
“Look who's talking.” Jungwon scoffed “You destroyed the taillight of my car.” Ni-ki laughed, scratching the back of his head “We do what we gotta do to win.”
“I agree.” You answered and saw Jake next to you, running his index finger across his mouth as if he wanted to say something important “Now tell me babe, that drift on the way back.” He looked at you “Where did you learn that?”
You knew that not everyone drifted because it was too risky, not to mention that it wore out the tires more and could make the car lose control. However, in one lap you gained an absurd amount of time. Your maneuvers had been practiced before, but the fact that you'd driven under pressure several times because of work was the best weapon you could have.
“I've got my secrets, you know.” You smiled seeing Jake amused by your reaction “I see… you're the mysterious type.” He leaned on the hood of your car looking at you “I like it.”
You felt your cheeks heat up slightly at Jake’s validation. Not that you needed it, but it was strange how his voice alone could change the vibe of the place.
As other cars arrived for owners to compare the best engines and the crowd began to disperse slightly, Jake spoke to you again “You know newbie, we're having a small gathering at Sunghoon's place right now.” He kept looking at you “You're welcome to come.”
Your smile was instantaneous “Sure, I'd love to.” He nodded his head “I'll lead the path, you can follow me.” he gave you one last look and smirked “That is, if you can keep up with me.” You air laughed “Of course.”
“I’ll hitch a ride with you guys, wait for me.” Ni-ki said excitedly going to his car “Me too, man.” Jungwon agreed and you smiled getting into your car. Now you were going to follow Jake and for the first time you could see him driving. Even if it wasn't in a race, you wanted to see the vibe of the famous king of the streets.
Jake got into his gray Nissan Skyline GTR R34. The two blue stripes adorned the front of the car and he rolled down the windows to look around to see who would be following him. He placed his right hand on the steering wheel and leaned his left arm on the window as he waited for people to make way for him to get out. As he accelerated, the wind made the blond strands of his bangs show off his forehead beautifully.
You couldn't deny it, Jake's vibe was priceless. It was much cooler than you expected, and way hotter too.
When you arrived at Sunghoon's house, there were already a few cars parked there, all customized. You parked next to Jake and got out of the vehicle, seeing Ni-ki and Jungwon also park.
Sunghoon's house looked big, not in a huge way, but a kind of house that looked comfortable. Jake locked his car and walked towards you with a smile. You analyzed his outfit, the black leather jacket adorning his beautiful shoulders along with the white blouse that perfectly highlighted his chest and abdomen. His gray jeans matched your skirt, making you wonder why you had this sudden association.
“C'mon newbie. I want you to meet a few people.” Jake snapped you out of your thoughts “Sure.”
“Hey, we're here too.” Niki said and Jungwon laughed “You're such an attention seeker.” Ni-ki nudged him “I want the VIP treatment too.”
“When you do a drift like she did I'll make sure to treat you well, Ni-ki.” Jake turned to the boy as they walked up the small stairs to the front of the house.
“HEY! That's a promise king!!!” The boy smiled as he took off the coat he was wearing “I'll make sure you remember this later.”
Jake rolled his eyes and you smiled. He looked at you curiously “Having fun, newbie?” The way his eyes always look right into your orbits makes you a little bit nervous “Yeah.”
“That's good.” He smiled and you entered the house seeing that there were more people there than you expected. “Small gathering, huh?” Jake was amused by your sarcastic tone “This is small for us.” He lowered his head so he could speak in your ear “I just realized I don't know your name yet.” His sweet voice blowing in your ear was like a cocktail you sip when you want to relax.
“I'm Y/N.” You replied, turning your face away, realizing he was closer than you expected. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He smiled “You can call me Jake.”
Jake. His name was Jake. It suited him.
“Hey Jake, Heeseung was looking for you.” Sunghoon called Jake interrupting their little interaction “Where is he?” Jake, you, Ni-ki and Jungwon walked through the crowd following Sunghoon until they saw a boy at the back of the house hugging a girl on the side while drinking a beer and laughing at something another guy next to him was saying.
“Heeseung.” Jake smiled and reached out to grab Hesseung's hand, pulling him into a light one-armed hug. “Sup Jake my king.” Heeseung's eyes checked you out “And who's this?” He smiled as if you were an interesting novelty.
“The newbie that won the race today.” Jake replied by putting his arm around your shoulders. The scent of Jake’s cologne invaded your senses “It was really surprising.”
“She won one race and you already invited her to our space?” Heeseung's tone had a hint of criticism mixed with interest “That must have been a hell of a race.”
“Yeah, it was. Gotta respect the newbie.” Sunghoon commented enthusiastically and you gave Heeseung a sarcastic smile “Next time you can watch me race and draw your own conclusions.”
The boys around laughed and Heeseung smirked “Yeah, I'll definitely come.” He held out his hand and you shook it “I'm Heeseung, you can count on me if you need any urgent repairs.” He said obviously looking at your legs as if there wasn't a girl next to him glaring at him “I'm Y/N.” You let go of the boy's hand and Jake turned you to introduce the other boys.
“You’ve already met Ni-ki ” He smiled with a wink that amused you “This is Sunghoon, he’s like my brother and helps organize the races.” The tall boy smiled taking your hand “Yeah, I figured it.”
“This is Jihoon.” Jake pointed to the boy next to Heeseung who seemed quiet and gave you a shy smile.
“This is Jungwon. He was our last newbie before you.” Jungwon smiled gently, “Hey.” His soft voice contrasting with his strong personality from the race amused you “You were amazing back there.” You gave Ni-ki a quick glance “I almost thought you were going to take 2nd place from Ni-ki.”
“Hey, I wouldn't let him take my place that easily.” Ni-ki defended himself and Jungwon sighed “Yeah, now I have to repair my car.”
“Tell me about it.” You smiled. “I’ll have to use the money I earned to repair the front of my car that hit Ni-ki’s car.”
“You can come to my garage, we repair our cars there.” Jake said making you think that was actually a great idea.
“Alright.” You gave a small smile before Jake’s phone rang and he looked at the screen and gentle smiled as his eyes softened “I have to get this, I’ll be right back.” As you watched him walk away to a quieter spot, Sunghoon offered you a drink “For you, the winner of the night.”
You knew drinking and driving wasn't good, but under these circumstances it would be suspicious if you didn't accept it. "Thanks." You took the bottle and clinked it with the other boys there.
As the loud music played, in the meantime you noticed that Jihoon didn't say much and just watched you with a strange look that you pretended not to notice. The boy soon left while you talked with Sunghoon, Ni-ki, Jungwon and Heeseung.
While you were talking, you discovered that Jungwon was the son of the owner of the auto parts store you were hired to work at, blowing everyone's minds. You also observed the movement around you, trying to see if you could find any clues or something suspicious, but most of it was just young adults drinking, talking, and flirting with each other.
“I'm going to the bathroom." You excused yourself and looked at everything. Nothing suspicious for now.
☆
After Jake hung up the phone he grabbed a drink and walked around the house greeting people, but he bumped into you coming out of the bathroom making him grab your shoulders. “Oh- sorry babe, I didn't see ya.” He smiled and you nodded “Okay.”
He gave you a mysterious look, noticing that you looked a little tired. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?” You looked at him in surprise and he smiled, putting his hands in his pocket. “I think you need some air.”
“Sure.” You smiled, following him to the balcony of Sunghoon’s house.
Sitting on the bench outside, the music from inside the house was muffled and you observed that Jake seemed calm. At the moment you decided you would enjoy any kind of interaction you had with him.
“So, are you enjoying the party?” He asked, looking at your features “Yeah, everyone is super nice and the drinks are good.” You took a sip of your drink, feeling a little sleepy since it was already past midnight.
“They are.” Jake sighed “Our races only work because everyone helps in their own way, you know?” You nodded and looked at him “And when will I see you race?” Jake smiled sideways, running his hand through his blond locks “Soon.” His eyes remained on yours “I’m missing making some people eat dust.” You laughed, clinking your bottles in a toast “Yeah, I get that.”
During the conversation, a part of you realized that Jake was mysterious, but at the same time, he had a natural magnetism that attracted people. Until the end of the night, you internally wished that the days would pass quickly because you wanted to see Jake in a real race.
You wanted to see the king in action.
Some random rap music played in the background of the store where you worked. Yang's Auto Parts store was one of the landmarks in the area, but today the movement seemed slow. As you leaned on the main counter, you were studying information about car engines and their differences in a specialized car magazine when you heard the sound of the door opening.
“Hello, may I help-” You looked up and saw Jake standing in front of you “you.” The smile he gave you certainly cheered you up more than it should have “Sup newbie.” He leaned over in the counter and you straightened up listening to his heavenly voice “A little bird told me that this store had the best pieces and the best attendant in town.”
Your eyes met Jake's dark ones and you smiled "You're right.” Closing the magazine, you turned to him “Tell me, how can I help you king?”
Jake gave you an airy laugh, placing both arms on the counter. “I need to place an order for some nitrous oxide bottles, a bumper for a Mitsubishi Eclipse model, and-” His face softened “invite you to a race, this weekend, if you're interested.” Your eyes widened and you stepped closer to the counter. “Yeah, count me in.” Jake scanned your lips briefly before returning his attention to your eyes “Great, give me your contact and I'll send the details.” He handed you his phone so you could save his number, and you felt a rush of euphoria at the realization that you had Jake's number and that you were finally going to see him race.
“Also, don't forget my order.” He chuckled getting his phone back “I need it in 2 days, max.” You accessed the store's computer preparing his order “Don't worry, you're going home today with these pieces.” You turned the monitor showing that what he wanted was in stock “Guess you're lucky.” He smiled before pulling a wad of cash from his pocket to pay “Maybe.”
You took the money, feeling his fingertips touch yours, making you a little nervous. 'I'm still getting used to his presence, it's nothing big.' You thought, putting the money in the cash register and going to the warehouse to get the parts he asked for.
Jake helped you with the heavy bumper putting on his red truck. After delivering everything he needed, he turned to you and smiled before saying goodbye.
“You have an eyelash here, babe.” His thumb gently touched your cheek as if he was wiping something there making your heart drop to your stomach “See you soon, newbie.”
“See ya.” He got into the truck and left, while you felt the place he touched burn.
'It's no big deal.' You mentally repeated it and returned to your workstation.
You felt like your prayers were quickly answered when you arrived at the location Jake had sent you on your phone. Unlike other races, the chosen place for tonight's race was a dirt road with cars that you could easily recognize even from afar.
The place was completely different from what your expected, looking more like a country street. The lighting was poor and the road didn't look as good, but oddly enough there seemed to be more people there than when you ran in the city. You parked next to Jungwon's car knowing that this was all because of Jake. Today he was going to run.
“Look who's here.” Sunghoon announced your arrival “Our favorite newbie.” Jake who was next to Sunghoon smiled seeing how excited you looked “I wouldn't miss this for anything.” Your gaze met Jake's “Finally I'll see the king race with my own eyes.”
“I hope I live up to your expectations, babe.” He replied and you noticed how much more casual he was that night. He wore a simple black shirt, a silver chain, and dark jeans. But he still managed to look stunning.
In all honesty, his friends looked fine too, but Jake was a different breed. He was the type of man who turned heads without even trying.
“Heyy, Y/N.” Ni-ki greeted you with a smile on his face “Glad you came.”
You gave the boy a side hug that ended up becoming closer to you than you imagined. Ni-ki was like your little brother. “Sup little bro, of course I would.”
“Sunghoon, help me with the police scanners!” Heeseung shouted from afar inside a car, adjusting a metal device. Sunghoon grunted lightly, but he knew it was necessary. “Alright.”
As the boy walked to Heeseung, you turned to Jake with a curious expression “Why did you choose this dirt road and not the asphalt?”
Ni-ki smiled and nudged you with his elbow “A race on dirt is where we have a better view of the drift.” Jake looked at you “And it’s also harder for anyone, including me.” He replied and you nodded “So that means it’ll be fun.”
“Exactly.” Ni-ki looked excited “Where do I sign?” You showed the small wad of money “Now I can bet this time.”
Jake gently took the money from your hand and smiled “Let me show you what I can do, newbie.”
☆
As you stood in line, you noticed how wide the street was. 3 cars were lined up on your right side, while Jake on your left was looking at you with a confident look that made you question what he was going to show you.
“Try not to eat too much dust, newbie.” He yelled out the window and you rolled your eyes with an airy laugh “hm, I don't know king, should I go after your crown?” Your response made Jake wet his lower lip with his tongue “You can try babe.” He smiled and turned to face the front of the street.
His profile was as hot as his green Mitsubishi Eclipse.
“Finally, racers be ready.” A girl in the middle raised the flags making the crowd scream while you felt butterflies in your stomach. “Set.”
'It's the same procedure, calm down and let everything flow.' Your thoughts tried to keep your focus in this moment of tension.
“Go!” The flags lowered and the cars sped off at a speed that raised enough dust to give anyone there a runny nose.
Sunghoon had taken the lead, but Jake soon caught up to him, passing diagonally in front of the cars, moving his wheels slightly, purposefully throwing dust onto the front windows of the cars. You quickly turned on the windshield, trying to regain your vision while closing the windows trying to not inhale any more dust.
“Son of a bitch.” Sunghoon cursed, dodging the dust and staying next to him. You were right behind, followed by Jungwon who zigzagged to make the view of the girl behind him worse.
Your mind was a mess and your senses were on edge. Jake was so much better than you expected, but you wouldn't give up.
You thought about using your NOS, but you still had a long way to go and didn't want to miss the opportunity to use it at the right time. While you were struggling, Jake was the first to use it, pressing the button near his gearshift, putting him even further ahead.
“You're not alone, bro.” Sunghoon activated his, standing side by side with Jake who continued accelerating without looking back.
Unexpectedly, Jake ended up going over a pothole that he couldn't see, causing the car to spin slightly. You activated your NOS and smiled as you felt a twist, but soon your smile fell when you saw that Jake had turned the car perfectly in 180 degrees and put it in reverse at an impressive speed. He was face to face with you while he was driving backwards as if it were completely normal.
At that moment you swore you felt time stop. As if everything was happening in slow motion, you saw Jake bite his lower lip containing a smile that was escaping, showing his white teeth and his blond locks perfectly messed up by the wind. He looked at you so deeply that for a moment you forgot you were running against him and you felt your heart race and butterflies invade your stomach, not because of the adrenaline, but because of the sight of Jake in front of you.
He was like an angel.
With a wink he looked back and activated his last NOS and distanced himself turning the car again, taking the lead leaving you speechless.
“Show off.” Sunghoon mumbled as he lost his position of 2nd place after Jungwon hit the back of his car and you activated your NOS, taking his place.
On the last turn Jake pulled off his perfect drift, an angle that had the crowd screaming wildly. You turned and accelerated, setting up your last NOS for the grand finale.
You paired your car with Jake's and activated your NOS, being able to see him through your window. He looked at you and smiled, pressing down on his accelerator. Before you could think, you saw your car lose power slightly and the front of Jake's car passed the finish line in one shot.
☆
You got out of the car seeing Jake being pampered with applauses and deafening screams. You approached laughing at the scene and he looked at you running his hand through his hair “Why are you laughing?” You smirked “Dude, I almost had you.” You pointed at him and the crowd laughed at your excitement.
“You lost and you still smile like that?” He smiled and turned to the crowd, raising his arms. “Even if it’s just for a few seconds, the real winner is the one who comes in first.” Everyone applauded and whistled, agreeing with Jake’s statement.
“You're right.” You approached Jake smiling sincerely “You won fairly, you deserved it.”
He stared at you for a brief second holding back a smile “Thanks, newbie.”
Before you could respond, the entire crowd surrounded Jake and the other contestants, wanting to celebrate his iconic victory. You turned around laughing but noticed something strange.
From afar, you saw Heeseung in Sunghoon's car make an apprehensive face, looking around as if he was afraid of something. He approached the police scanner and his eyes widened. He looked around with unusual hesitation and you felt anxiety take over you. Heeseung heard something suspicious on the radio and was taking too long to report it.
As if you could predict the future, you turned to Jake, but in a brief second Heeseung's voice came through the small radios that were in the cars. “COPS! RUN!”
The crowd crushed Jake and dispersed in a general confusion. “Shit!” You got into your car desperately, knowing that you couldn’t get caught by the police, or everything would go down the drain.
Looking back you saw everyone speeding away like crazy, but your eyes fell on Jake who was running on foot. Confusion crossed your gaze when you saw that his car was not there, and he was alone.
From afar you heard the sound of police car sirens and small red lights appearing in the dark night. You turned the car and accelerated towards Jake.
He looked to the side and saw you yell out the window “JAKE!” Concern written all over your face “GET IN!” He opened the passenger side door and jumped into your car before you started the car and drove off into the middle of the road.
Your anxiety increased significantly when you looked in the rearview mirror and saw that a police car was following you. “We need to lose them.” Jake felt his heart jump out of his chest as he watched you dodge the cars along the way.
“I know a shortcut.” He said and you nodded, waiting for his directions “Take the next alley on the right.” You turned the car around, slowing down the police, but they were still following you “Now turn left.”
You came to a crossroads with a traffic light in the middle. You looked and saw that it was yellow and would soon turn red. Jake looked at you as if you had the same idea.
“Smoke them.” He looked at you with that naughty smile that messed with your insides “Make them eat dust.” You smirked and stepped on the accelerator.
In less than a second you felt your heart stop when the light turned red and you crossed between the cars. The car jumped slightly with the speed and the unevenness of the lanes and Jake ended up hitting his temple on the window glass with the impact of the car on the ground.
The police car was left behind after accidentally hitting a car.
“WOOOOOOOOOH.” You screamed feeling the adrenaline hit your faces “LET'S GOOO BABE!” Jake started laughing at your excitement and felt more relieved before he realized his temple was bleeding “Shit, you're bleeding Jake.” The intonation of your voice conveyed your concern.
He touched his face and saw the blood on his fingertips before wiping it on the fabric of his pants. “It's fine, it's not that serious.” He sighed and sank back into the seat “No, Jake, I won't let you bleed. We need to care of that.” Jake watched you as you tried to locate the street you were on.
“Let's go to my house, then.” Jake said closing his eyes quickly and you swallowed hard “Alright, show me the way.” He nodded and you felt nervous because you knew you would be completely alone with him.
☆
Jake's house was smaller than you expected, but it was still big. The garage he worked in was right next door, in a shared building. You got out of the car feeling a wave of relief wash over you knowing you both were out of jail.
Jake opened the door waiting for you to come in “Ladies first.” He smiled and you touched his arm lightly “Thank you.”
His living room was simple but cozy. The slightly worn beige couch, the pictures of family and friends hanging on the walls, and the medium-sized TV adorned the space. “Make yourself home.” He smiled as you sat on the couch.
He picked up his phone and saw that he hadn't received any calls or messages from the boys making him worry about them. "Where's the first aid kit?" Your question took Jake's attention away from his phone and he turned to you "It's in the garage." He looked at you for a second "Come with me, there's something I want to show you."
You got up and followed Jake to the garage where he kept his cars and some materials.
On top of a cabinet Jake took out the box that had the first aid kit and everything he would need. He placed the box on top of a small table that was in the corner before turning to a car that was covered by a huge sheet and taking it out.
"First, I wanna show you this." He revealed a beautiful black impala 67 "My baby."
Your eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful car. Your fingers touched the shiny material of the hood hesitantly as you looked at every detail carefully.
"It was my father's." He blurted out "It's our greatest treasure."
You looked at Jake in confusion. "Our?"
He smiled, sliding his palm along the side of the car "Mine and my brother Sunoo's." Jake smiled, noticing the surprised expression on your face "He doesn't live here because he's in college, but we always talk."
"That's amazing. Do you ever think about racing with it?" He laughed bitterly at the question "No. It's a relic I want to keep because my father raced with it." His voice cracked a little and you noticed "He was a professional stock car racer, but unfortunately he passed away."
Your heart sank at Jake's revelation. His story was way deeper than you imagined.
"I’m sorry... I had no idea." You walked closer to Jake, lightly touching his forearm "He must have been an amazing racer."
"He was." He sighed, placing the cloth back on top of the car "I used to watch him from the stands with such pride, but one day he had a heart attack while maneuvering the car and ended up having a fatal accident."
He ran his hand through his hair before looking at you. "At the end, besides his love for cars, he left some possessions and some life lessons for me and Sunoo." You followed him to the small table and sat down next to him. "Sunoo was too young to remember everything, but I remember it like it was yesterday."
He was silent for a moment, and you opened the box, taking out a cotton ball, medicine and a band-aid. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He shook his head negatively "It's fine, I want to."
You nodded and looked into his eyes that seemed completely raw. As if there was no layer of "king" or the confident guy that made everyone attracted to him.
It was just Jake. An ordinary guy with dreams, disappointments and his own story.
"I still haven't thanked you for saving me from jail." You smiled at his comical tone "Thank you very much." He spoke sincerely, placing his hand over your knee and looking into your eyes. You held his chin and turned his face slightly to the right, looking at his injured temple. The blood had already dried on his skin.
"It was nothing." With your right hand, you held Jake's left cheek, stabilizing his face while you cleaned his skin with the cotton "It's like you always appear at the right time, like a guardian angel."
You gave him a hearty laugh as you finished cleaning his face and applied the medicine to the wound.
"I don't know if I'm a guardian angel, seeing as I almost stole your 'crown' today." He smiled mischievously and you felt your insides turn at his close proximity. His soft skin on your palm, his gaze fixed on yours and his messy hair were all too much for your heart. "I think you need to practice a little more before you try that." He said humorously and you smiled, putting the band-aid on him "Yeah, you're probably right."
Jake looked deep into your eyes while he brushed some strands of your hair away from your face. His right hand cupped the skin of your cheek making your body go completely rigid. "You're so pretty." He whispered suddenly and you felt your entire body heat up and your heart melt at his deep voice.
You swallowed hard as he glanced between your eyes and your mouth. Your stomach turned completely when he brought his face closer and you smelled his perfume. Jake swore he felt something inside him burn when you nestled lightly into his palm, your bright eyes staring so deeply into his. His mind filled with forbidden thoughts.
His warm breath fanned your face as he brought his face closer to yours, his lips almost brushing against yours.
"Jake, you there?" Sunghoon's worried voice cut through the air, making you and Jake quickly step away.
"Yes, Sunghoon." He spoke in a harsh tone "Where have you been?" You put your hand to your heart, feeling it beating extremely fast.
Sunghoon appeared in front of you, panting a little, placing his hand on his chest. "Bro, I'm so sorry." Jake looked at him clearly irritated "Sunghoon you took my car and I almost got arrested." He got up from the chair in an indignant tone "If it weren't for Y/N I would be behind bars right now." Jake pulled Sunghoon by the collar and he widened his eyes.
"Bro, Heeseung took my car and the police was right behind me, I didn't have a choice. If I stayed there I would be freaking arrested on the spot." He melancholic looked at Jake "Man I'm really sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Sunghoon looked desperate and Jake sighed letting his best friend out of his grip "I swear, anything you ask I'll do it."
Jake pinched the top bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly. "It's alright, Sunghoon. At least we're all okay." Sunghoon nodded his head and looked at you "Thanks Y/N for saving Jake's ass today."
You smiled and nodded "No problem." The boy then stopped and looked at you and Jake realizing that he probably messed up the mood. Embarrassed, Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck and smiled, "Sooo, I think I'll go to the bathroom, you guys can continue talking." He threw the car keys to Jake who caught them midair.
You stood up, your cheeks hot from the atmosphere that had set in. "It's okay, I need to go now." Jake saw how nervous you looked and approached you "Are you sure? Aren't you hungry or anything?"
You shook your head, putting your hands behind you "No, it's okay. I have to leave anyway; I have to wake up early tomorrow to take care of some things." Jake smirked seeing you smile gently "I'll walk you out."
You just nodded and said goodbye to Sunghoon, who returned the gesture.
The walk back was silent until you got into your car. "Be safe." Jake said leaning on your window. "Of course." You gave Jake a smile and he returned it "Bye, babe. " He whispered before making room for you to drive away.
You waved back at him before speeding up your car and driving away, the affectionate way he spoke echoing in your mind.
'Babe.'
“So, any progress?” Jay’s voice coming through the video call on your computer made you sigh. “Yeah, I’ve identified a suspect, he was acting strange in the last race.”
You leaned your back against the armchair you were sitting in at home.
While undercover, you and Jay have decided not to meet in person for a while, catching up with each other through regular video calls on ghost accounts so you can communicate safely.
“What about the leader? Any clues about him?” He asked and you felt your heart tighten slightly “Nothing. He hasn’t given any sign that he’s involved in this so far. Totally clean.”
Jay nodded, placing the box of noodles he was eating on his desk. “And this new suspect, what do you think?”
You turned your head to the side slightly “He certainly could have warned about the police much earlier, but he held back, as if he was thinking about something, but I could be wrong.” Jay saw how uncertain you seemed about the situation “To be sure I need more days to dig deeper.”
“Okay, but also pay close attention to this Jake and his friends. He might be involved and be good at hiding it.” Jay commented and you nodded “I really don’t think he’s involved, but I’ll check.” Jay’s eyebrows raised slightly at the way you talked about Jake, but he decided not to comment on it.
“Great. I’ll talk to you in a few days.” He ended the call and you sighed, closing the lid of your laptop.
☆
Jake was just finishing checking his engine's nitrous oxide direct drive when Jihoon walked into the shop with a grin from ear to ear.
"Hey man, it's looking nice." Jihoon looked at the engine and Jake looked at his friend with a side smile "I still need to improve some things, but it's looking good."
Jake looked at Jihoon who seemed strangely excited about something. "What's wrong?" Jake wiped his hands on a cloth he had next to him "You seem to be in a good mood today."
"Let's talk privately." Jihoon squeezed Jake's shoulder as he left the tools in the box below the car.
Jake followed Jihoon into a small room at the back, closing the door behind him.
"So? Why are you acting so mysterious?" Jake asked Jihoon, leaning against the table in the room.
Jihoon took a transparent package out of his pocket filled with small, circular pills of various colors. "I found the easiest way for us to get money."
Jake frowned at the sight of the package recognizing what it was "Jihoon, I already told you I don't want this shit around here, much less in our races."
Jihoon air laughed "The way you talk almost makes me believe you are a prude."
"I ain't no saint." Jake got up "But you know this shit is serious. It's destroying races and the drivers are getting sick. Some are dead, what are you thinking?" Jake's heart raced with the frustration of not recognizing his own friend in front of him. "Innocent people are dying because of this, Jihoon."
Jihoon felt his body tremble with anger.
"You know what Jake? You're so full of shit." Jihoon exploded and pointed his finger at Jake's face "You're not my boss to order me around like I'm your little dog." Jake pulled Jihoon by the collar "I'm not your boss, but as your friend I'm warning you." He looked right into Jihoon's eyes "If I see you around our races with this shit I'm gonna break your face."
Jihoon grabbed Jake's hands and broke free from his grip. "You are not as important as you think." he smiled mockingly "At the end of the day you are just a deluded idiot with an imaginary crown that can be stolen at any moment." He pointed at Jake "You aren't your father."
Jake punched Jihoon's face, making his back hit the white wall behind him. The boy flinched and touched the side of his lips feeling the blood drip from the bruise there.
"Don't bring my father into this." Jake was furious "If you think I race just for an imaginary crown then you don't know me at all."
"Fine." Jihoon scoffed at Jake "From now on I'll do my own stuff, you don't own me." He stared at Jake laughing bitterly "Let's see until how long you can protect your little races, King." Jihoon left the room, slamming the door as hard as he could, leaving Jake there alone.
After a few long minutes, Jake leaves the room and from afar sees you approaching in a white dress that completely messed with his mind. That air of natural beauty that you exuded was one of the things that made Jake want to ruin you with the touch of his hands.
“Did I arrive at a bad time?” You smiled with your arms behind you as if you hadn’t just heard the shocking argument between him and Jihoon and he gave a relieved smile shaking his head “At the right time, actually.” You couldn’t help but look at his arms that were exposed because of the black tank top he was wearing. How the veins on his forearm were visible, his striking shoulders and collarbone being adorned by his gold chain.
“So, what can I help you with?” He twirled a silver ring on his finger as he approached “I brought my car for you to take a look at.” With a clearing of your throat, you pointed to your pink car. “I haven’t had it serviced since the last race.”
Jake looked at the car behind you “And a little bird told me that you are the best mechanic in town.” You said in a mischievous tone, referring to what he had said when he visited you at work and Jake smiled holding your hip delicately. His hand applied perfect pressure to the spot.
“And the little bird is correct.” His eyes lingered on your figure for a few seconds before he released your hip and walked towards your car “Let’s see how your car’s engine is doing, princess.”
The way the nickname rolled off his tongue so naturally made your body fizz. The fact that you’d gotten used to always expecting something new in every interaction you had with Jake made you wonder how close you’d become without realizing it. Maybe the coexistence and conversations over the last few weeks had made you create a greater and unexpected bond with Jake, because you could no longer imagine what it was like to go a day without interacting with him.
He opened the hood of the car and leaned forward slightly to observe the machine. You stood next to him, analyzing every action and how his skin seemed even more radiant due to the orange color of the sun beginning to set. The way some blond locks fell in front of his face, adorning his drawn profile, made you a little nervous.
Unlike what you’d heard, Jake was alone in his garage. Normally, he would be with Sunghoon and Ni-ki working on something, but today he was there at your disposal. Your mind tried to remind you that you were on a mission, that it was just a job, but when you saw the way he smiled at you nothing else seemed to matter.
“You're actually really good at this.” Your eyes watched as Jake's hands meticulously analyzed your engine. “Have you ever thought about specializing?”
“In the past, I wanted to be an engineer or work at the stock car,” Jake confessed, wiping his hands with a rag he had hanging from his pocket, “but I decided to prioritize Sunoo’s dream.” You felt your heart tighten as you realized that Jake gave up things daily for the well-being of his family. “That’s how I started racing years ago, to make more money so I could pay for my brother’s college.” He laughed “But Sunoo is so smart that he got a full scholarship, so I help him with other expenses.”
Jake noticed how you looked at him with an indescribable tenderness in your eyes “Maybe after your brother graduates you can try.” Your hand instinctively brushed a strand of hair that fell in front of his eye “You have a lot of talent, it's never too late to start.”
His hands went straight to your hips, pulling you towards him. His face looked at you with such a specific desire that it was mesmerizing. “It’s okay, I already have everything I want.” He replied, staring into your doe eyes “I mean, almost everything.”
You felt butterflies in your stomach at the way he spoke, looking straight into your eyes. He could have been talking about anything, but internally you hoped he was referring to you.
“And my car?” You asked, swallowing hard “It’s great, in perfect condition.” He smiled and let go of you to close the hood of your car. “Don’t worry, your next race is guaranteed.”
You laughed and crossed your arms. “Okay, so how can I pay you for the service?” Jake’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected that question, especially since he used to look at his friends’ cars without any financial return.
“I have an idea.” He smirked and walked past you. “Follow me.”
The fact that you simply accepted his suggestion and followed him even though you didn't know what he was going to suggest made a feeling of pride take over his body. That blind trust you had in him, as if you had no fear of approaching him, drove him crazy.
Jake opened the back door of his garage and you were faced with the backyard behind his house. There was a medium pool next to some plastic tables and chairs. You curiously saw Jake give you a mischievous smile as he took off his dark boots.
"It's so hot today." Jake's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, starting to undo it and you felt your heartbeat quicken at his actions "Let's cool off a little."
You couldn't answer. You were paralyzed by the sight of Jake taking off his shirt and then his pants, placing them on the floor near the edge of the pool and then jumping straight into the water.
"Aren't you coming?" He ran his hand through his wet hair and you shook your head, trying to keep your thoughts sane.
You just saw Jake in just his black underwear so you didn't know how to act after that.
With a few slow steps, you silently approached the edge of the pool and sat there, watching Jake swim without taking his eyes off you. You felt the cold floor beneath your legs as your feet got wet slightly. The water was a little cold, considering it was already early evening and the stars were starting to appear in the sky.
Jake swam closer to where you were, giving you a smile that he knew would knock you over "Suddenly you became so quiet." You gave him an embarrassed smile "I was just watching you." Your feet kicked lightly in the water "It looks like you're having fun."
"I am," He positioned himself between your legs and stood up, "but it would be better if you came to the water." You shook your head as he ran his hand through his perfectly messy wet blond hair. "Why not?" He asked looking at you with the most beautiful eyes in the world "I don't have a bathing suit." Jake's hands touched the skin of your legs, just above your knees, causing you to shiver instantly. He looked at you with a pleading look, as if he knew he could win you over with this.
"You don't need one." he whispered, running his hands up your legs. The angle of your vision was almost torturous, seeing how beautiful he looked beneath your eyes. His wet hair, the line of his shoulders, his sculpted mouth, and those eyes... the eyes of someone who wanted more than just a swim "Just take off your dress."
The butterflies that invaded your stomach were so many that you felt your breath catch in your throat. You couldn't say anything, you just looked at him as you felt his fingers squeezing your thighs, pulling them towards him.
He tilted his head slightly to the side as if he was waiting for your answer. You knew this was going too far, but you didn’t care. Not when Jake stood in front of you, dripping wet and with a look of desire that made your skin burn.
In an unexpected act, you decided to give in to your inner desires and your fingers traveled to the hem of your dress. Little by little you began to take off your dress, making Jake feel all his rationality disappeared as he analyzed your body. The way you took the dress over your head was torturously slow, but the view of your waist and your white lingerie made up for all the delay. You placed the dress behind you, close to Jake's clothes, so it wouldn't get wet. Jake felt his heart race as he watched you turn your face and gently step into the pool, not wanting to splash too much water.
Jake's hands gripped the edge of the pool, trapping you within the space of his arms. He was so close you couldn't think.
You started to feel conscious, seeing that you were in lingerie in a pool and consequently Jake could see your skin. For him, this was like a dream. The girl who suddenly appeared in his world and managed to mess with him, was now in front of him, half naked and with an expression that was driving him crazy.
It was impossible to resist.
Jake's right hand went towards your chin. With all the delicacy in the world he held your chin with his thumb and index finger and lifted it slightly, looking into your eyes. "Is it cold?" He asked and you shook your head. Your hair wasn't completely wet yet and he wanted to touch it so bad, to intertwine his hands in your strands and pull them back so he could get lost in your neck.
Your body collapsed as he stepped closer and his hand turned, pulling your jaw closer to his face. He stared at your little pout, the red of your cheeks and your bright eyes and there he knew how much he wanted to ruin you.
"Can I?" He asked quietly. His voice was filled with a raw feeling that made your legs feel weak "Y-Yes." You replied in a whisper and closed your eyes when you felt his soft lips touch yours.
If there was any part of you that was down to earth, it no longer existed at that moment.
Jake pulled your face tightly, enveloping your lips with his soft mouth in a slow kiss. After waiting so long for this moment, his lips moved slowly as if he wanted to enjoy every second, taking all the time in the world.
Your back hit the wall of the pool as he pressed his body against yours. His left hand went into the water, holding your waist, while his right hand grabbed the corner of your neck, pulling you towards him. You started to pant, feeling all the stimuli at once.
Your breath hitched as you felt his tongue slowly wet your lower lip, his teeth pulling at the skin there. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him towards you, making Jake groan into your mouth feeling the strands of his hair between your knuckles.
He smiled into the kiss, his right hand moving up to your jaw, his fingers on the corner of your jaw while his thumb slid between your bottom lip and your chin, pushing the spot so that you opened your mouth slightly. “Open up for me, princess.” He whispered desperately against your lips, his breath mingling with yours.
You felt your legs lose strength when you felt his tongue inside your mouth. What was once a slow kiss, became a desperate kiss as if he couldn't contain himself. Your moans were swallowed by Jake's mouth who kissed you as if he wanted to devour you.
His hands roamed your body as you pulled his face towards you. He looked even more handsome like this face-to-face. All his features were perfectly proportional.
Jake moved his right hand to the back of your hair, which was loose and slightly damp from the water in his hand. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he grabbed the strands and pulled them back with moderate force. He trailed kisses down your jaw to your exposed neck.
“Wanna taste you.” He whispered huskily into your neck as he peppered kisses across the area, his teeth sinking into your skin making you gasp.
“Jake.” You whispered his name feeling his left hand lower the strap of your white bra, his hand traveling down your torso “Yeah, say my name babe.” He said before kissing you desperately.
Personally, Jake couldn't remember the last time he felt this desperate. He wanted to have you close in a supernatural way, as if that wasn't enough. Jake wanted to touch you everywhere he could, taste you, make you come undone for him.
When his hands reached your hips, wanting to lower the fabric of your lingerie, his phone that was on top of his pants started to ring loudly. Jake stopped his movements and very reluctantly pulled away from your mouth.
You couldn't even think straight when he reached out to see who was calling him at such a crucial time. Jake looked at his own phone screen and saw that it was his brother.
He clicked his tongue and looked at you quickly. His mouth and cheeks were red and his hair was messy. He looked so hot wrecked like this.
“I'm sorry princess, it's my brother.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair “I gotta take this, please wait a bit.” He walked away and got out of the pool so he could talk to Sunoo and make you more comfortable.
You were freaking out. Internally you couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Jake was driving you crazy, that was obvious, but the fact that the desire you felt while kissing him was beyond comprehension showed that this had gone too far. What you felt was real, it wasn't pretend.
You had feelings for Jake.
From afar, Jake answered his phone, trying not to remember how completely surrendered you were to him seconds ago.
“Sunoo, you kind of called at a bad time.” He sighed and the boy laughed on the other end of the line “Aww sorry big bro, were you with someone?”
“Yes.” Jake rolled his eyes answering honestly as he watched you in the pool from afar. “Sorry for disturbing you and y/n, but I have good news.” Jake’s eyes widened when he heard your name “How do you know it’s her?” Sunoo’s cute laugh warmed Jake’s ear “It’s obvious that it’s her. The amount of times you’ve talked about her has already made me memorize her name.”
Jake gave an airy laugh “So? Why did you call?” Sunoo sounded excited “Just wanted to let you know that I'm going home for the holidays.” Jake smiled happy with the news “That's great, bro! You know how we've been missing you.” Sunoo sighed happily “Yeah, I miss you guys too. Now you can go, I don't want to take up any more of your time.” The boy felt relieved that it was nothing serious “And don't forget to take good care of my sister-in-law.”
Jake felt his cheeks flush at the comment “Okay, bye little bro.” He gave an awkward smile and said goodbye to his brother before turning to you, who had put your dress back on and was walking towards him.
“Where are you going?” Jake asked feeling like a loser as he really didn’t want you to leave.
“It was getting cold so I got out of the pool.” You smiled, feeling embarrassed. Jake saw how damp your dress was and how cold you looked. There were no towels near the pool so you probably just pulled the dress over your wet body.
“You’re not leaving wet like that.” He said seriously, but you felt your cheeks heat up at his comment “The car seat will get wet and you might get sick. Come to my room and I’ll lend you some clothes so you can dry off.”
He looked at you worriedly, completely forgetting that he was only wearing his boxers and you nodded, fixing your hair. “Okay.”
☆
The walk to Jake's room was silent, you didn't know what to say and Jake was trying to contain himself because he was happier than usual about what had happened in the pool.
He opened a drawer in his closet and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt along with a towel so you could dry off. “The bathroom is over there.” He pointed to the suite bathroom in his room and you went there to change.
While you were changing, he put on another pair of pants while lost in thought. He sat on his own bed and scratched the back of his neck thinking about how you were there, changing, in his bathroom, inside his room. You were alone and he couldn't stop thinking about the different scenarios he would like to play out at that moment.
Jake knew that the forbidden thoughts he was having were probably much more than a simple carnal and biological desire. Ever since he met you, he felt captivated by your presence and energy, and even though he tried to hold it back, every time you were in the same room, Jake couldn't help the feelings that invaded his interior.
He touched his mouth with his fingers remembering how minutes ago you were kissing and he smiled thinking how he wanted to do that again. How he wanted to touch you again and see what new features you would reveal to him.
When you came out of his bathroom wearing his clothes, holding your dress tangled with your lingerie, he felt his whole body go rigid. “Thank you, Jake.” He stood up and looked at you while you tried not to stare at his exposed abs.
“It’s nothing.” He swallowed hard, bringing his right hand to your cheek. “Y/N, can I say something?” You looked at him and nodded “Yeah, sure.”
He debated for a moment about what to say, as if he was afraid of your reaction if he confessed what he really wanted. “Don't go.” He pulled you by the waist, looking into your eyes “Stay with me.” He whispered and you gripped your clothes tighter.
You knew what this meant and honestly were aware that if you crossed this line there was no going back. It was obvious that you were more involved with Jake than you should have been, considering that your job was just to get close enough to find out what you needed, but you were starting to get attached to Jake's presence and it was messing with your convictions.
Despite your inner moral dilemma, you couldn't think of anything else when you saw Jake in front of you looking at you like that. You couldn't say a word, so you just kissed him as your answer. He instantly pulled you making you drop your clothes on the floor.
Something about seeing you in his clothes triggered something in him so Jake grabbed you by your thighs, pulling your body up and laying you down on his bed. Your back felt Jake's soft mattress and you buried your fingers in his hair as his torso hovered over you.
Like a dream come true, he buried his face in your neck, getting lost in the scent of your perfume. His hands explored your skin beneath the sweatshirt he had given you, making your breath hitch.
“Damn, you're so pretty,” He kissed the length of your neck as he lifted your shirt slightly “so hot.” His lips slid down your abdomen as he held the corners of your hips.
You were convinced that no experience and nothing on this earth surpassed the feeling of feeling Jake's mouth drawn on your skin.
When he slightly pulled down the sweatpants you were wearing he remembered that you weren't wearing your white lingerie anymore. The fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath his clothes made Jake lose his mind.
On the other hand, you felt more self-conscious seeing how he was between your legs and debating whether he should do what was on his mind.
As if he was reading your mind, he looked at you and approached you smiling “Are you wearing something underneath this?” He smirked as he squeezed your thigh over your pants “N-No.” You replied swallowing dryly making him bite his own lip as he confirmed his suspicions.
“Shit.” He said in your ear “There's so many things I wanna do to you.” You moaned as you felt him bite your ear and kiss the skin beneath your earlobe while his right hand explored your body beneath your shirt.
His lips hovered over yours again “Then do it.” You replied making him grunt into your mouth before kissing you desperately “I will princess.” His torso brushed against your pants sending electrifying chills throughout your body.
He pulled away for a moment and got on his knees between your legs as you watched his every action. He smiled when he saw you staring at him shamelessly.
“Like what you see?” He teased you watching as you followed his hands taking off his own pants and throwing them anywhere, leaving only his black boxers “Yeah.” You whispered and he felt his rationality break with your answer “Yeah?” The sensual tone of his voice made you needy. He licked your lower lip as he grabbed the hem of your pants to take them off “Babe, lift your hips for me.” You obeyed his command as he spoke over your lips “I want to see you.”
Jake loved how you obeyed him instantly. He wanted to know how far you would go to do whatever he asked, especially when his mind had so many ideas of what to do.
After taking off his pants he went straight to your shirt to take it off as well. “You're gorgeous.” He said seeing how raw and naked you were just for him. After taking off your shirt you ran your hand down Jake’s chest to his abdomen feeling his sculpted body as he took off his boxers.
“Jake, I want you.” You begged, pulling his torso towards you with your legs and he smiled into your neck, marking the spot. You could smell the chlorine from the pool on Jake as he trailed kisses down your entire body until he reached your legs.
“I'll give you what you want, babe.” You shivered as he responded by trailing kisses up your inner thigh.
With every touch from Jake, your body burned as if it were on fire. It was irresistible and effervescent how good he could make you feel. His touch was good, his breath in your skin was good, his grunts in your ear were good, his body and your turning into one was good. Everything about him was good.
Having Jake was just too good.
☆
Jake and you were hugging each other as he stroked your hair and you looked at his face thinking how perfect he looked there under the moonlight invading his room.
“You tired?” You asked and he smiled, closing his eyes as you caressed his cheekbone with your fingers. “A little bit.” He confessed, snuggling closer to you.
He pulled you by the waist and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “I heard people are calling you bullet now.” You noticed the pleased tone in Jake’s voice “Because you're fast like a bullet.” He teased and you felt embarrassed by the new nickname “They're exaggerating.” Jake looked in your eyes “Don't need to be humble with me, I know you're good.” You nodded feeling an inexplicable happiness for having your skill recognized by a racer as talented as Jake “Congrats on updating from newbie to bullet.”
“Thank you, king.” You whispered and he smiled, running the back of his hand across your cheek “You're welcome, babe.”
This intimacy you had with Jake was so natural. As if you had always been like this, the environment was comfortable and being with him wasn't difficult. It was perfectly natural.
“You know, Sunoo called me to tell me he's coming home for the holidays.” You smiled thinking about the possibility of finally meeting Jake's younger brother “I want you to meet him.”
Your heart was pounding so hard you were afraid Jake would feel it. “Sure, I can’t wait to meet him.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.” You watched as Jake spoke of Sunoo with admiration and fondness “He’s probably taller and smarter than me now.” Jake chuckled warmly.
“You must miss him a lot, huh?” Jake thought for a second, remembering all the happy memories he had with his brother “Yeah, I do.” He laughed through his nose “Sunoo is so much fun, he always brightens up the atmosphere with his contagious joy.”
“He seems like an amazing person.” Jake smiled at your comment “He is.” You giggled feeling Jake's nose tickle your neck “I think it's going to be good for him to come.”
You sighed thinking about how you wanted this peaceful and joyful environment to last longer. “I think so too.”
“I was thinking about having a barbecue.” He looked at you, stroking your back “What do you think? Do you like barbecue?”
“I love it.” You smiled as he placed a kiss on your cheek and then on your lips “Barbecue it is then.” He smiled and hugged you as you snuggled into him letting the sleepiness take over both of you.
The sun was shining brightly in the sky and the day was beautiful as everyone gathered at Jake's house for the barbecue he had organized for Sunoo's arrival. Sunoo had arrived a day earlier and was excited about the barbecue, happy that he would see the friends he missed so much and finally meet you after hearing about you.
Jake, with a satisfied expression, was watching as you and Sunoo talked while taking the rice and potatoes to the table in the backyard of his house. Ni-ki and Jungwon were at the grill arguing about how the meat should be cooked, whether it was well done or rare.
He smiled, especially seeing how you were even more radiant than usual.
“I thought you didn't mess up with drivers.” Sunghoon spoke next to him in a sarcastic tone and Jake gave him an airy laugh “I'm not messing with her.” He confessed and Sunghoon widened his eyes “Wait, so that means...” He followed Jake's line of sight who didn't take his eyes off you “Drop it Sunghoon, I just want to relax and eat some barbecue.” Jake replied and Sunghoon put his arm around his shoulders “But I want to hear about this bro.”
“He's in love, Sunghoon.” Heeseung said taking his drink approaching the two friends “It's obvious.” Jake gave Heeseung a quick glance before turning his attention back to you “She's special, that's all.” Jake said smiling with a look of tenderness when he saw how cute you were arranging things on the table “Damn bro, you're really damn bad.” Sunghoon retorted bumping Heeseung's fist.
“Maybe I am.” Jake spoke softly, admitting what he already knew was true. The boys looked at each other smiling at Jake’s confession, hugging him sideways as they walked towards the table.
“C'mon guys, let's eat!” Sunoo shouted, calling everyone to the table and everyone sat down. Jake sat next to you, making you give him a sweet smile that made Ni-ki roll his eyes. “Guys, get a room!”
“Shut up Ni-ki!” Jungwon nudged him with his elbow making Ni-ki smile “Alright, let's all calm down.” Sunoo said and looked at everyone laughing “Well, since it's your first time here at our barbecue, I think you should say grace.” Jake looked at you and you smiled “Okay.”
You took a deep breath, looking at everyone before you started speaking. “I want to say that I'm grateful to have met you all and that I'm happy that we're here together, well and healthy.” Your heart sank when you saw how sweetly Jake looked at you “I'm really grateful for all of you.” He squeezed your thigh under the table and smiled while you felt your heart explode inside your chest.
“The newbie knows how to touch our hearts.” Sunghoon joked and Ni-ki wiped an imaginary tear from his eye “Let's eat!!” Jungwon said excitedly and started serving himself.
“I'm also grateful to have met you.” Your heart raced as Jake's whisper warmed your ear “That's good to know.” You smiled and he held himself back from kissing you right there in front of everyone. He would definitely steal this kiss later.
As everyone ate and laughed, you took in the surroundings. The boys' laughter and jokes, Sunghoon teasing Jake, Ni-ki and Jungwon talking about something random, and Sunoo passing the soda to Heeseung. The pleasant atmosphere and the feeling of familiarity were overwhelming. It wasn't just a gathering of friends, they were family.
You felt like you were home.
And it broke your heart, because you knew this wasn't forever.
☆
Jake had pulled you into his room at the first opportunity that arose. With the excuse that you both needed to 'rest' from lunch, he held your hand and led you to the familiar place you had been before.
And with the excuse that he had sweated too much in the heat of the sun, he called you to take a shower and so you ended up with your back glued to the cold tiles of his bathroom while he attacked your neck. Your knuckles were in the middle of Jake's dark hair.
He took off his shirt and grabbed your body, pulling you onto his lap before placing you on the bathroom counter. “I love when you show me your pretty legs.” He whispered, squeezing the skin of your thighs. You were wearing a blue summer dress that showed off your body perfectly and contrasted with the color of your skin, which drove Jake crazy. “Do you like it?” You asked softly against Jake’s mouth. “I love it.” He whispered before he buried his long, beautiful fingers in your loose hair.
“That's good because I chose it just for you.” The way you spoke while looking at Jake with so much desire made him crazy to ruin you right there and then. “Yeah?” His voice seemed to be an octave lower than normal “Then take it off for me.” The way he said it with his sexy voice as he attacked your neck gave you goosebumps. The slightly imperative tone along with his desperation to have you heated up your entire body.
He helped you take off your dress and all your clothes while he took off his pants. His hands gripped every corner of your body as if he needed it to live.
You tried to contain your moan as Jake smashed his lips into you again. The kiss was messy and desperate, which reflected Jake's mental state at that moment. Your nails dug into Jake's back and neck, making him groan against your mouth.
He grabbed you by the hips as you crossed your legs around his torso holding him. As he carried you to the bathroom stall you attacked Jake's neck who bit his own mouth to avoid making any noise.
You let go of Jake and stood up again when Jake pinned you to the shower wall and turned on the shower, soaking you both. Before you could think of anything, Jake grabbed your cheeks, bringing your face close to his and deepening the kiss forcefully.
The mixture of your breaths and your warm bodies with the water falling from the shower was addictive. Jake was so turned on he wanted to taste every part of your body if he could. He wanted to bend you over and touch you until you're crying and begging for him to do something.
As Jake's hands roamed the length of your body, he brought his kisses to your neck marking the spot "Maybe I should mark you up so everyone can see you're mine.” You felt your breath hitch and your blood pressure rise as you felt his tongue run over the length of your neck “You taste so good.” He whispered before sucking on your bottom lip and kissing you again.
No matter how much you tried to hold on, you moaned with a small whimper causing Jake to pull away and put his hand over your mouth.
“You need to be quiet, love.” He whispered in your ear as he covered your mouth “Or else they we'll hear us.” You nodded, feeling your legs tremble as Jake pressed his body against yours.
You held onto his biceps as you tried to calm down, but it was impossible seeing how Jake's wet hair was pulled back after he ran his hand through his dark locks. It was an irresistible sight. "You're making it hard for me to be quiet, Jake." You whispered and swallowed hard seeing how he smiled and looked at you. Jake's gaze penetrated every last part of your dermis.
“I'll shut your pretty mouth then.” Your eyes rolled back when you felt his fingers touch you and he stuck his tongue inside your mouth, swallowing all your moans.
In an impulse he picked you up again and pressed you against the wall without breaking the kiss. His fingers sank into your skin trying to keep you in place.
You tried to feel him a bit more, but Jake wouldn't let you as he kissed you in a slow, torturous rhythm. When you pulled away for air you looked at him "Please, Jake." You begged and he smiled “Please what?” He teased “Say it with your words.”
His head was a mess and his entire body was throbbing with desire “Want to feel you,” you whispered “please, love.” Jake felt his chest swell with adoration and pride when he saw how you were surrendered to the point of calling him love, something you hadn’t done before.
“Since you asked nicely.” He whispered before accomplishing what you wanted most.
☆
After sleeping the whole afternoon to recover your energies, you and Jake went down to have dinner with Sunoo.
Sunoo had prepared a lasagna so that you could enjoy the peaceful evening and chat a little. “So Y/N, I heard you’re a great runner.” Sunoo smiled excitedly as he chewed his food.
“Well, I try.” You laughed as Jake had fun watching his little brother interact with you “She’s good, she beat Ni-Ki and Jungwon in her first race.” Jake praised you and you felt a wave of happiness invade your chest.
“You really are perfect for my brother then.” He said in a comical tone and you felt your cheeks heat up as Jake smiled, silently agreeing with his brother’s comment “I would love to see you race, but unfortunately I have to go back after this holiday because of my university classes.”
“I understand…” You took a sip of the juice in your glass “Do you race too?” Sunoo laughed and waved his hand in the air in denial “God, no. Not like the boys.” He sighed “I always preferred the business and organization part of our car workshop. That's one of the reasons why I'm at the business course in university.”
You were impressed by Sunoo. He definitely had the face of someone who suited the field he chose. “Sunoo was the best manager of our finances, but now that he’s in college I take care of everything.” Jake said, looking at you tenderly “It seems like a difficult task.”
“It’s a little, but I can handle it.” Jake said confidently making you laugh at the table “So this is the confidence of the king of racing?” You teased Jake by asking Sunoo who laughed and nodded “That’s because you didn’t see what he was like when we were younger.”
“Hey! No exposing our cringe memories to my girl.” Jake said placing his hand on your thigh making your heart clench. 'my girl.'
“I’ll tell you everything later.” Sunoo whispered to you as if Jake couldn’t see him “I’m looking forward to this moment.”
“Hey! I can hear you guys.” Jake smiled as he watched you and Sunoo enjoy his comedic tone.
Sunoo, who saw how you and Jake looked at each other, side smiled seeing how happy Jake seemed. Not that Jake wasn't happy, but now he had a different glow and he knew it was because of you. After dinner you helped wash the dishes and then went upstairs to Jake's room to wait for him while he and Sunoo put away the last remaining utensils.
“You know, it’s been a while since I've seen you smile like that.” Sunoo said to Jake as he finished putting the silverware away in the drawer.
Jake smiled and looked at his brother as he finished taking out the trash from the kitchen. “Really? I didn't know that.”
“It’s because of Y/N.” Sunoo looked mischievously to Jake “I like her, so please take care of her.”
“Shouldn't you be saying this to her?” Jake laughing crossing his arms in front of his chest “I'm your brother, after all.”
Sunoo giggled and closed the cabinet drawer “It's because I've known my brother long enough.” He said sarcastically and Jake ruffled his brother's hair “Don't worry, I'm taking good care of her.” Jake finished his kitchen chores and waited for Sunoo at the door “She's special.”
“Good.” Sunoo gave a funny wink before turning off the kitchen light and heading to his room. “So, I'll trust my cute sister-in-law to you.”
“Alright.” Jake just smiled and went up to his room, excited to spend another night with you.
You had arrived at the place where another race would take place while looking for Jake who said he was near the cars at the starting line.
The night was perfect until you bumped into Jihoon in the middle of the street. You were shocked by his nerve to show up for the race after the fight he had with Jake, but this only confirmed your suspicions that he was the one you were really looking for all this time and not Heeseung.
“Look who’s here.” He said mockingly, looking you up and down. “I should say the same.” You replied, shocked by the boy’s change in behavior.
He approached with his hands in his pockets “Where does this attitude come from?” he scoffed “Why are you so mad?” You rolled your eyes and walked out of Jihoon’s field of vision, bumping your shoulder into his arm “I don’t have time for this.”
“Wait a minute.” He pulled you by the arm and turned you to face him. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, let’s catch up.” You looked at him suspiciously. “What do you want to talk about? We’re not friends.” He smiled and touched your shoulder “We can be, with benefits too if you want.” You took his hand off your shoulder and walked away. “You’re crazy.”
It was shocking how that shy boy persona was shattered with the revelation of who he really was.
“Don’t play too hard to get, I know I can teach you a few things, newbie.” You frowned “No thanks, I’m fine.” Before he could touch you again Jake arrived on the scene pulling you behind him.
“Oh, now I understand.” He gave you a harsh laugh “You’re just another one in Jake’s pants.” You grabbed Jake who was clearly irritated and almost about to punch him again “Jihoon, get the hell out of here.” He spoke through his teeth and the boy laughed “Sure king, I’m leaving.” He said sarcastically before turning to you “When you get tired of him, you can always call me.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes in disgust “As if! cretin...”
Jake pulled you by the hand away from the crowd and looked at you with a worried look “Are you okay?” He held your face between his hands and you nodded “Yeah, it’s okay.” He sighed and you hugged him suddenly feeling welcomed by his presence “Come on, forget about it and let’s go watch the race.”
“I’m not in the mood to watch the race anymore.” He stroked your hair “So, what do you want to do?” You asked and he smirked “I have an idea.”
You looked at him curiously, knowing that Jake always came up with the craziest ideas.
“Let's take a ride.”
☆
Being in the passenger seat while Jake drove was a unique feeling. While he focused on the road, his hand was gripping your thigh, sliding over your soft skin. The metal rings on his hand sent goosebumps across your skin. “Where are we going?” You asked, seeing how calmly he smiled.
“A place I want you to see.” He turned and stared at you as he sped the car in a straight line. “You might wanna keep your eyes on the road, babe.” You laughed seeing how he kept looking at you with a smirk.
“What? You think we're gonna crash?” He asked as he still accelerated the car before stopping at a traffic light.
“I don’t know. I guess I trust your driving skills, though.” He laughed at your response squeezing your thigh “The secret's not about having the best car, it's how you drive it.” His focus returned to the road making you see his profile, noticing Jake's dark hair blowing in the wind coming from the window.
That feeling of adrenaline and confidence that came every time you were with Jake was comforting. You knew he was your complete opposite, but maybe that was what drew you to him. Like you were two sides of the same coin, or magnets with different polarities that couldn't be separated.
Likewise, Jake knew he felt happy every time you were together. It was like you were the trigger that activated his dopamine. An addiction he could never get enough of.
“We’re here.” He stopped at a pier. There was practically no one else there at this time of day, but through the window you could see the dark water rocking gently with boats in the background.
“Wow, how beautiful.” You said, observing the landscape, feeling the cold breeze give you goosebumps a little.
“I know.” He sighed, looking at you “I come here when I want to be alone and relax.”
You looked at each other, feeling sparks fly instantly. Jake's hand was still on your thigh, moving it up under your skirt.
“I love it when you wear skirts. It reminds me of the day we first met.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear. Your breathing quickened as you stared into his dark orbs. “You remember what I was wearing when we met?” You couldn’t help the silly smile that appeared on your face.
“How could I forget?” He smiled and fit his face into your neck, feeling your sweet scent “You were so beautiful. It was difficult to ignore.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your neck in a delicate way, as if he was just testing the waters.
“Maybe you fell in love at first sight.” You playfully touched his hair and he smiled against your skin “Maybe I did.” His confession made you pull his face to yours. He kissed you tenderly and you couldn’t help but want to climb on top of him.
You pushed him back and crawled lightly until you climbed onto his lap. His eyes widened in surprise, but he soon smiled, adjusting you in the best position.
As you looked down at him you couldn't help but check him out. How he stood so close and yet at the perfect distance to admire him. His teasing expression turned you on completely. “Your lips are so pretty.” You ran your thumb over his lips before giving him a long kiss “Wanna kiss them all the time.” You whispered, making Jake’s heart beat wildly. “Yours are pretty too.” He smiled looking at your mouth.
You didn't know what came over you. Maybe Jake's presence brought out all your primal desires.
Your fingers sank into Jake's dark hair through his bangs. “This hair color is nice.” You felt how soft his hair was and smiled. The contrast of his dark hair with his lightly tanned skin from the sun made Jake even more attractive.
His hands went to your waist “It’s my natural color.” His thumbs made circles on your waist underneath the fabric “Do you like it?” You nodded, threading your fingers through his locks and running them down to the nape of his neck “Yes, it suits you.”
He smiled and pulled you closer “I'm just going to miss the blond a little because it reminds me of when I first met you.” You confessed holding his cheeks, your thumbs caressing his cheekbones.
He smiled looking at you. “Yeah?” He loves the vision of you on top of him, because in his mind you belong there. “Tell me love, what do you want?” He asked, leaning into your neck and moving his hands down to your thighs. The smell of his perfume invading and hypnotizing your senses.
Jake loves the feeling of the soft skin of your thighs between his fingers.
You felt butterflies in your stomach at Jake's tone. It was embarrassing how you melted so easily at his words, but his delicious voice was irresistible.
Your body twitched slightly feeling him kiss your collarbone making Jake squeeze your thighs. “You.” You replied nervously and he gave you a quick kiss before smiling over your mouth “Just that?” You nodded feeling a fire rise through your body.
Even though you didn't fully understand his question, at that moment Jake would give you whatever you wanted, material or not, but your sincerity about the moment made him sure that he would do everything in his power to satisfy you and see you happy.
“Wanna know what I want?” He said with a ragged breath. His lips brushed over yours as his warm breath mingled with yours. “I want to touch you so bad.” He didn’t wait for your answer and attacked you with desire.
Kissing Jake was like feeling your body being elevated to a higher level of human understanding. His soft lips met yours like a perfectly rehearsed dance. As if they were the perfect fit for yours.
Jake pressed your body against his and you buried your fingers in the strands near the nape of his neck, making him groan into your mouth. The way he sucked on your bottom lip was so intoxicating that it made you want to attack every inch of his skin.
Giving in to your deep desires, you trailed your mouth down Jake's marked jaw, kissing along the way until you reached his neck. He moaned as you pulled his head back so you could kiss the length of his throat.
Jake pulled your face close and met your lips hungrily. You felt his tongue deepen the kiss desperately while his right hand under your shirt passed over your belly and your bra pressed against the skin there, sending a shiver down your spine.
You reached down to the hem of his shirt to take it off and he helped you, throwing the shirt onto the passenger seat as you admired his abs.
Your fingers wandered over his belt and he smirked “Didn't know you were this needy.” He licked his bottom lip with an expectant look at you making your cheeks heat up “It's your fault, you do this to me.” Your hands began to undo his belt quickly and he swore it was the hottest sight he could ever have.
Jake felt that his pants were getting uncomfortable and decided to pull up your shirt while you tried to unzip him. You stopped so he could take off your shirt and then you went back to kissing him.
His hands moved up your back to your shoulders. He explored your body as if it were the first time and you loved it. You loved how he touched you, how he knew exactly what to do, how the chemistry between your bodies was perfect.
“Wait, are we really going to do this here?” As a shot of rationality you pulled back slightly and felt self-conscious as you saw that you were in a place where someone could appear. Jake who was marking the skin below your collarbone as he lowered the straps of your bra stopped for a moment to look at you.
“Jake, what if someone sees us?” You whispered, looking at the scenery around you that was completely deserted. “No one will see us, love, it’s empty here.” Jake rolled up the car windows, which were tinted to reassure you “And the windows are tinted.”
Your heart was racing at the thought of doing something as forbidden as this. “Love, please.” He whimpered hoarsely “I need you.” His hands pulled your hips forward in a desperate attempt to feel you.
You gasped, feeling the friction of your body against his, and slowed down your movement, teasing Jake. This begging version of him was something you liked more than you expected.
He who always took charge and was more dominant with you was now whimpering in need of your touch “Patience.” You whispered and Jake moaned like a cry stuck in his throat when you lowered his zipper and he felt your fingers hover over the spot.
He wanted more than ever to get rid of the piece of clothing, especially when you moved slowly and never enough for what he wanted most.
“Please, I'm going crazy.” He spoke in your ear, holding your hips and pressing your weight hard onto his lap. Feeling satisfied with Jake’s state and feeling that you had already reached your own limit, you decided to give in to what you both wanted.
So, on that beautiful night on the deserted pier, the sounds of the light waves, their uneven breathing and Jake's name being said repeatedly were the only things that could be heard there inside Jake's car.
After weeks of not seeing Jay, you drove many miles to a police base that was in a neighboring town. You knew this meant it was time for the final report and that you would have to move soon.
“I think we should move fast.” Jay paced impatiently back and forth “You’ve already had enough evidence that Jihoon is the guy we’re looking for.”
“We can’t do that. You know that without physical evidence and witnesses he would be released and we wouldn’t be able to track the boss.” You argued and Jay sighed.
“We have witnesses: all his friends who race.” He put his hands in his pockets “We can take advantage of the moment and catch them too for the illegal races we never managed to get.”
“No.” You replied and Jay looked at you in surprise “No? What do you mean by that?”
“They don’t know anything, they’re just kids who race around every now and then and live their lives.” Jay couldn’t believe you were defending the boys.
“Right, but the leader knows. Jake knows Jihoon is involved, so he has a stake in not reporting him.” Jay stood in front of you and you scoffed.
“As if he would call the police without proof and risk being arrested. Let’s be smart Jay.”
Jay was irritated by the way you defended Jake. “You know what? I don’t know why you’re defending him. At the end of the day, he’s still a criminal, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Jay, you talk like he’s a horrible criminal who committed heinous crimes, but he’s just a guy who races illegally and that’s just a misdemeanor, it’s not the end of the world!” You glared at Jay “Jake isn’t like Jihoon.”
Jay's eyes widened and he pointed at you. “'Just' a misdemeanor? Since when you became so liberal about committing illegal acts?”
You sighed in frustration “Jay you know very well that it’s not like that.”
“Are you sure?” He stepped closer “Because I think you’re actually too attached to those boys.” You looked away, feeling your heart sink knowing it was true “Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? Going to barbecues and going to Jake’s house when there’s no need at all?”
You frowned and stared at Jay in disbelief.
"You've been tracking me?” You scoffed “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I'm serious.” He spoke seriously looking at you “It's clear that ever since you started to spend time with him you’ve changed.” You felt your eyes water slightly “Y/N, your judgement is clouded!” He sighed “And I have no other option but to take you off the case.”
“Jay please don’t do this.” You walked over and held your friend’s hand “You know we’re so close to solving this case, don’t push me away now.”
“Y/N, look into my eyes right now and tell me you don’t have feelings for Jake.” He looked at you and you looked away feeling your heart tighten “You know I can’t do that.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Y/N, you need to stay out of this case.”
“Wait!” Jay looked at you, seeing your desperation “Hear me out, please Jay.”
He sighed and sat down on the chair he had in the room “Okay, I'm hearing you.”
“What if I can convince him to cooperate and help us with the operation?” You begged your friend “They can be free, but we get Jihoon and the entire information network.”
Jay stopped and thought for a bit. It would be interesting for both sides and would make it easier to catch Jihoon.
“It might work.” He looked at you with concern in his eyes. “But you know what that means, don’t you?”
You sat next to Jay and looked at the ceiling, feeling the melancholy hit you with everything. “I know.”
He stood up and touched your shoulder “I’m sorry Y/N, but we need to do what’s right.”
“I know.” It was the last thing you said before sinking into absurd sadness.
You knew you would have to reveal everything to Jake and this would all come to an end and you didn't want to accept that fact.
☆
Jake was lying on top of you while you stroked his hair. He hugged your waist while you looked at the ceiling thinking about how to talk to him.
He had come to your apartment before, but today in particular would be a difficult day. You would reveal your identity and ask for Jake's cooperation, even though you knew it would destroy the relationship you had.
Of course, you hadn't planned on getting involved with Jake on this level of depth, but you couldn't help it. Feelings aren't easily controlled, and to be honest, you didn't want to avoid it.
You wanted to get involved with Jake and you wanted to go all the way, even knowing the painful consequences that it would bring. But when you weighed it up, the benefits and moments of happiness with him were much better than any heartbreak you would have to accept.
If suffering was inevitable then at least you experienced that love until the very last moment.
You sighed and Jake raised his head seeing your worried expression. “What is it babe? Is something worrying you?” He looked at you intently and you gave a weak smile holding his cheek in your hand “Just thinking about some things.”
He nodded and lifted himself up a little so he could kiss your neck “What things?” You hummed feeling his lips travel from your neck to your lips “Tell me what is worrying you so I can help you.” Your heart sank as you heard Jake “I don’t like seeing you this way.”
You smiled and kissed him again knowing it would be a goodbye. You pulled his face to yours and he smiled into the kiss, his hands roaming around your waist.
You hugged him aggressively, smelling his cologne one last time. Your fingers intertwined in his hair, feeling its softness.
“Damn babe.” He whispered breathlessly as he kissed your collarbone. Your legs rose slightly before wrapping around his torso and you pushed him aside, straddling him.
You looked at him with a melancholic look that Jake noticed and he caressed your face “Why are you looking at me like that?” His hand went to the side of your neck and you bent down kissing him.
The feeling of being in Jake's arms was unique and you didn't want to forget it. Jake deepened the kiss and you pulled away trying to catch your breath, feeling your heart tighten.
“Sorry, I needed to breathe.” You gave a light smile and Jake saw how you lowered your head dejectedly “What’s going on babe? You’re acting weird.”
You looked at Jake once more to remember the details of his face. His furrowed eyebrows, his nose, his drawn mouth. His messy dark hair, his collarbone marked by your mouth along with the silver necklace you remembered so much.
“We need to talk.” You sighed and he sat on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard “What’s going on? Tell me.” He looked at you worriedly and you tried to find the right words.
“I know what Jihoon is doing.” Jake was surprised by what you said “We need to do something to stop this.” He gave you a confused and worried look. “Babe, what do you mean? Jihoon did something to you? Did he threaten you with something?”
You sighed, shaking your head. “No, he doesn’t know that I know that.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair “So that’s what was worrying you.” You nodded and he pulled your face to give you a quick peck “Jake, we need to end this.” He pulled away, hearing your anxious tone of voice.
“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me babe.” He looked at you confused as you tried to work up the courage to confess everything.
You looked into Jake's eyes and gave one last smile, holding his face in your hands and letting go before revealing the whole truth.
“Jake, I'm a cop.” You said in a rush and he laughed “Babe, c'mon, that's not funny.” He looked at you hopefully as if you were going to say it was all a bad joke, but you looked away as you felt your eyes fill with tears.
“It’s true. I’m an undercover cop.” You whispered, getting up from the bed and Jake’s eyes widened.
At that exact moment Jake felt his heart break into several pieces.
“That’s a lie. Please tell me you’re joking.” Jake’s voice began to crack.
“It’s true.” You looked at him with tears threatening to fall from your eyes “I needed to find out who was the infiltrated drug dealer at the races and I found out it was Jihoon.”
Jake stood up feeling an absurd pain invade his chest. He felt betrayed, as if everything had been a big lie. “You lied to me? All this time?” He gave a sarcastic laugh, feeling his eyes water “Everything we lived was a lie?”
You turned to him, looking at him desperately “Jake, of course not.” You approached him feeling you heart tear at Jake's pained expression “Everything I said, what we lived, what I feel for you is real.” Jake looked at you, letting the tears fall “Please, believe me.”
He pulled away from you, putting on his shirt. “How do you expect me to believe you?” He was looking for his pants, but he was disoriented so he sat on the bed, putting his head in his hands. “You really fooled me…” He bitter smiled as he cried “I really thought everything you said was true.”
He looked at you with a contorted expression that broke everything you had inside “Was it fun playing with me? Was it funny deceiving me all this time?” You shook your head vehemently and he felt his throat close up “Is Y/N even your real name ? I don't know anymore.”
“It wasn’t a joke, it was all true.” Your chest tightened with all the pain you felt “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.” He shook his head. “No, it’s too late.”
“Jake I’m so sorry, but please believe me when I say that everything I feel for you is real.” You took his hand and placed it over your heart but he pulled away and stood up “I don’t believe you anymore, I can’t do it.” He looked away and you let the tears fall “Whatever we had is over now.”
“I understand that you don’t believe me, but you need to listen to me.” He looked at you in disbelief “I need your help to save you and our friends.”
He got irritated when he saw how you spoke “Save me? Our friends? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Jake, the police are after Jihoon. If you don’t help, everyone will go down with him, including you.” You stood in front of him “I need your help to arrest Jihoon and free the boys, please.”
“I’m sorry, but how do you expect me to believe you when you’re a liar?” His words were harsh and you felt your heart being pierced with each word spoken.
“It’s okay if you don’t believe me, but please think about the boys. They didn’t do anything and they’re in danger because of Jihoon.”
Jake felt his chest get rippee every time you opened your mouth. He didn't know he could suffer this much.
“Me and the boys have nothing to do with this. This is your problem, why don't you solve it?” He looked at you and you got angry “I’m trying!” You ran your hand through your hair “You’re not listening to me.” He saw your frustration “What do you want from me?”
“Jake, if you don’t help us, they’ll try to arrest Jihoon in some race and if the boys or anyone else is there, they’ll all going down.” You said seriously “Please help us, for them.” He looked at you and you gathered your courage before saying one last time “Please, even if you don’t believe me, I really don’t want to see you arrested.”
Jake looked at you, feeling his insides churn. His stomach hurt with the weight of the anxiety he felt. “Fine. I'll help you.” He grabbed his things before looking at you one last time “But just so you know,” You looked at him “After all of this is over, I don't want to see you ever again.”
You nodded, feeling your tears wet your face “Okay, I understand.” You spoke with a choked voice and Jake looked at you one last time with tears in his eyes before leaving and slamming the door to your apartment without saying a single word.
Your body collapsed to the floor and you brought your hands to your face.
Knowing that you had done your duty but that you’d unfortunately lost the love of your life, you allowed yourself to cry yourself to sleep.
☆
After a few days, the three of you were inside a disguised and armored car outside the meeting place that Jake had managed to find out where Jihoon would be.
After revealing your identity to Jake, everything had changed. You no longer saw him or the boys, making up some lame excuses to justify your absence.
Inside you felt the worst pain you could ever feel. It was as if everything good that had happened to you had been an illusion. A good joke from the universe.
Jay picked you up at your apartment and when you got into the car seeing that Jake was already there you felt your heart stop.
The moment your eyes met, you quickly realized how much you missed Jake. You missed his eyes, your hugs, the tender kisses he gave you when you asked for them. How his jokes were funnier when you were alone. You missed his hair between your fingers, his voice in your ear.
You missed him.
Even if you succeeded in your mission, you didn't know how you would move on with your life. Jake had become so special that you didn't want to accept a reality without him by your side.
He was in front of you, beautiful as ever and you couldn't do anything about it.
While you wondered if he would ever forgive you, he stared at the landscape through the glass, not wanting to make eye contact.
“So, let’s review the plan.” Jay breaked the silence and Jake looked at him dejectedly “Your excitement touches me.” Jay ironically said and Jake scoffed.
“Sorry if I'm not in the brightest mood. I just discovered my girlfriend is an undercover cop and that one of my old friends actually hates me and I need to make him go to prison in order to save my friends.” Jake commented and your heart sank when you heard the word 'girlfriend' and Jay looked at you through the corner of his eye without saying anything “So yeah, sorry I'm not very excited about that.”
“It's going to be over soon, don't worry.” Jay replied and Jake sighed as you remained looking at him.
“Jake, please.” You tried to speak but he interrupted you looking at Jay “Let's just get this over with.”
Jay nodded and went on to explain the plan again.
It was simple, Jake would meet with Jihoon, and talk to him until the moment he would reveal the prohibited merchandise and you would be in the ideal blind spot to arrest him.
But as simple as it was, you wanted to enjoy these last moments with Jake.
“You can go first, he's approaching the location.” Jay said to Jake who nodded and got out of the car and walked normally to the spot he was supposed to be.
“You know, you look awful.” Jay whispered to you, who looked at him and gave a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, I know.” He laughed and hugged you from the side “You know, now that I met him, I kinda get you.” He finished loading his gun and looked at you “He's actually very charming. Sorry I judged you.”
“It's okay Jay, let's just forget about this.” You commented feeling your heart tighten “Okay, sorry. You know I care about you, right?” He said affectionately and you smiled nodding “I know.” You bumped your best friend's fist, like always.
☆
You were at a strategic point on Jake's left side. Your body was crouched down when Jihoon approached, talking to Jake from a distance. Jay was on the other side, a little further back, anxiously waiting for Jihoon to give any signal so he could jump straight towards him and arrest him.
You quickly glanced at Jake who looked normal, as always. That calm expression you remember seeing the moment you first saw him.
Everything about him was captivating and a part of you wished things were different. If you had met under different circumstances, at different times, maybe it would have worked out.
Before you could continue your thoughts, you noticed a strange shift in the conversation and saw that Jihoon took a gun out of his pants and pointed it at Jake.
You felt your heart race with adrenaline and turned to Jake who looked shocked.
“Jihoon?!” Jake said feeling his body stiffen in fear “What the hell are you doing?”
Jihoon smirked “Sorry man, it's nothing personal, it's just something I should've done a long time ago.” Jake widened his eyes “I thought we were friends!” He said angrily and Jihoon rolled his eyes “Things have changed.” He clicked his tongue “You know that.”
“It was good knowing you, king.” He pulled the safety back on the gun and in a rush you ran out of hiding and jumped over Jake as Jihoon pulled the trigger.
“NO!” Jake yelled as he saw you fall in front of him, your shoulder bleeding. Jay came from behind and tackled Jihoon, handcuffing him. “You bastard!! I'll make sure you rot in prison!” Jay screamed while you started to get dizzy.
“Y/N! Oh my God you're bleeding.” Jake knelt down beside you, desperate and with tears in his eyes. “Are you okay?” You asked Jake, feeling your forehead break out in a cold sweat. Okay, getting shot wasn't that cool.
“How can you ask me that? You just got shot!” He said in a choked voice holding your face with his shaking hands.
Jihoon was struggling behind you, but Jay had already knocked him out with everything he had while calling for backup. “We need backup urgently! We have an attempted murder against an agent, the suspect is down and the agent is shot, send an ambulance.”
“Jake.” You whispered his name knowing that you would soon pass out. Your body was already showing signs that it was weakening from the loss of blood.
“I hope you can forgive me one day.” You lifted your hand from your free arm and touched his cheek before feeling everything slowly go dark. His face nuzzled into your hand. “I really love you.” His hand was shaking as he placed it over yours.
He was crying as he nodded his head. “I love you too.” He said between tears, but you had already fainted, leaving him even more desperate “Y/N? Y/N!! ANSWER ME!!” He started to scream, but he was pulled back when help arrived.
Jihoon was taken away by the other police officers while Jay held Jake who was disoriented and struggling when he saw that you weren't waking up.
“PLEASE CALM DOWN.” Jay yelled and Jake felt his body weaken as he watched you being put into an ambulance “She needs to go to the hospital, let them take care of her.”
“LET ME GO! I need to see her.” Jake said feeling his head hurt and Jay let go of him seeing the precarious situation Jake found himself in as he was kneeling on the floor.
“She's my best friend. I care about her too, man.” Jay looked at Jake in a friendly way and bent down holding his shoulders “But we need to trust them and make sure we finish our job so everything she did wasn't in vain.” Jake nodded and Jay got up offering his hand to Jake.
“C'mon let's finish everything and we'll go to the hospital, I'll take you.” Jake took Jay's hand and decided to trust him.
But even on the way to the hospital Jake couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face.
After you went to the hospital and were stabilized and your life was out of any danger, Jake was called by Jay to give a statement at the police station as his last participation in the case.
Jake told him everything he knew in the last details so that all of this would finally be over and he could return to the hospital with the hope of seeing you wake up. Jay informed him that thanks to his help in arresting Jihoon they were able to identify the others involved and the main boss, solving the case, leaving Jake relieved.
“You are free to go.” Jay gave Jake a side smile after his statement “Your records and your friends’ records are clean. Thank you for your cooperation.” Jay shook Jake’s hand, who looked at him confused, trying to understand how this happened.
“What do you mean? I thought you just wanted my statement.” He said, squeezing Jay’s hand back.
“You know, I'm gonna be honest with you.” Jay sighed and leaned over the table, putting his arms over it. “Y/N did everything she could to get us to clear your records in exchange for your cooperation.”
Jake felt his heart melt with remorse at hearing this “I know it’s not easy for you to understand, but we had to do our job.” He looked at Jake with pity “She really cares about you guys, you can be sure of that.”
Jay laughed and Jake stared at him without saying anything “She always defended you guys and that's why we ended up fighting and she almost left the case because of it.” He smiled tenderly at Jake “I sincerely hope you understand her side.” He squeezed Jake's shoulder and he nodded.
“I didn’t know that.” He confessed, feeling his heart heavy when he remembered the last argument you both had. “Well, it’s understandable.” Jay sighed, crossing his arms “She has a tendency to keep all those feelings inside for the good of everyone, it’s a bad habit.”
Jake smiled for the first time “It really is.” Jay looked at him, noticing how dejected he was “She’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“I know, it’s just that I have so much to tell her.” He sighed and Jay stood up “So when she wakes up, you tell her everything.” Jake stood up and held Jay’s hand “And don’t let her get away anymore.”
Jake just nodded and smiled. “I won’t. Not anymore.”
☆
When you opened your eyes you were faced with the sight of a disconcerting light coming from the sun through the window while your head throbbed. You opened your eyes slowly feeling the soft mattress of the hospital bed and your shoulder ache slightly from the movement.
Looking to the side, your eyes widened when you saw Jake sitting in a chair and taking a nap. Your heart raced and you felt butterflies in your stomach at the sight.
His head was bowed while his arms were crossed. It was clearly not a comfortable position, but you wondered if you should wake him up or let him wake up naturally.
“Jake?” You called him in a low, delicate voice, trying not to scare him.
Jake opened his eyes slightly and ran his hand over his face before stretching. When he turned his face and saw your bright doe eyes looking at him, he felt his heart stop.
“Y/N?” He called your name as gently as possible before leaning down and touching your cheek gently “Can you speak?”
“Yes.” You nodded your head and tried to sit up, but the pain in your shoulder was unbearable. “Don’t get up, you’ve been out for 24 hours.” Your eyes widened, realizing that you had slept for a whole day “The doctors said you were very stressed and fatigued.”
It was obvious that you hadn’t been sleeping well since the argument with Jake, but you didn’t imagine it would be to the point of blacking out for an entire day. “I’m sorry.” Jake’s voice snapped you out of the trance you were in and he took your hand “I feel like this is my fault.”
“It’s not your fault.” You sighed, lacing your fingers through Jake’s knuckles “It’s my job.”
“Still, thank you for saving my life.” Jake’s eyes filled with tears “I don’t know if you remember what I said before,” You looked at him curiously, “but I wanted to repeat it.” He took a deep breath and looked at you with pure sincerity in his eyes. “I love you.”
Your heart raced to the point where you were afraid it would jump out of your ribcage. Memories of what you said before you passed out invaded your mind and you felt your body heat up. “I thought you would never forgive me.” You whispered, feeling the emotions take over your being and Jake shook his head, placing kisses on the back of your hand.
“I know, I was a jerk. I’m sorry for the things I said to you.” You saw how he looked at you tenderly “I was angry and lost my mind that day, but the truth is that I couldn’t live without you.” He said smiling “I love you so much and besides, you’re the bullet of my kingdom.” You laughed remembering your nickname.
“I was wrong too.” You played with his fingers “I could have told the truth before, but it wasn’t easy.”
“It’s okay, I understand.” He leaned closer and kissed your forehead “Let’s forget about this and have a fresh start.” You nodded and smiled happily “I would love that.”
He gave one of those smiles that broke your heart and touched his lips into yours in a long kiss. “Now rest, I'm going to call the nurse.” He said and you snuggled into the pillow trying to relax.
Even you wouldn't be able to believe everything that happened.
While you were recovering in the hospital, Jay and the boys came to visit you, bringing you candy, flowers, and cheering you up while you tried not to think about the gunshot you’d received. It would probably take you over a month to fully recover the movement of your shoulder, but you were grateful to be alive and to have been able to save Jake.
Jake wouldn't leave your side, except for the days he had to go home to work part-time and pick up more clothes to spend the night at the hospital. Even though everything had worked out, you still couldn't believe that you could finally experience everything you wanted without having to lie or pretend to be something you weren't.
Jake knew who you were and decided to stay, and that was all you needed to be able to live in peace.
Jay had also updated you on how the case was successfully closed, and because of Jihoon's connections they were able to track down the main boss. Inside you were happy, you had done your job and despite getting shot, everything ended well.
There was only one thing you knew you would miss, and you weren't ready to admit it out loud, but deep down you knew you would miss racing. The truth is that the environment of customized cars with modified engines had become natural and fun for you, and personally you would miss the competitions.
Maybe in the distant future, you would race again as bullet.
☆
1 MONTH LATER
You looked at the front of Jake's garage, feeling a nostalgic feeling invade your interior. From afar, you saw that Ni-ki and Jungwon were talking and laughing about something at the entrance.
A small smile formed on your face when you saw how well they looked. These boys had a place in your heart and you wouldn't be able to forget the time you spent together racing.
As you approached, Ni-ki was the first to notice your presence. His eyes widened and Jungwon followed his line of sight to see you arrive dressed in a police uniform.
“Wow, seeing you dressed like that is so weird.” The boy said and you laughed “What do you think?” Ni-ki watched as you turned around and clapped his hands “It kind of suits you, even though it’s a little scary.”
“You’ve always been so cool, I could never guess you were a cop.” Jungwon commented and Ni-ki agreed making you laugh “Hey! I’m still cool!”
From afar, Sunghoon and Heeseung watched the interaction at the garage door and looked at each other before seeing how Jake looked entertained by the car he was working on.
They approached the entrance and smiled at you “Hey man, check out this look.” Sunghoon elbowed Heeseung, pointing to your outfit “I’m seeing, bro. I smelled bad boots from afar.” You laughed and greeted the boys “It’s good to see you guys too.”
“Y/N, your uniform is giving me the creeps.” Sunghoon said, placing his hand on his chest. “Please don’t arrest me!” He put his hands together as if he were saying a prayer and you laughed “Don’t worry, I came in peace today.”
They laughed and watched how you were looking out for Jake “He’s back there.” Heeseung said and you smiled, thanking the boys “I’ll be right back, boys.”
“I know you won’t.” Sunghoon mumbled and Heeseung chuckled “But we’ll wait anyway.” Heeseung added and you smiled before heading towards Jake.
As you approached, a whirlwind of sensations took over your body as you recognized the place, and how Jake continued to look extremely handsome at his job. He was wearing a white tank top this time, and his dark brown hair fell perfectly over his forehead.
He turned his face expecting to see Sunghoon and smiled broadly when he saw it was you “What's up bullet.” Jake said in a mischievous tone coming closer and you smiled “What's up King.” Your voice made Jake’s insides stir with everything.
“What did I do to deserve the honor of your visit, officer?” He put his hands on your waist, pulling you towards him “I missed you, and I came to make you a proposal.” You showed a paper that you were holding and waved it in front of Jake “What is this?” He held the paper with one hand, looking at the contents curiously “We are recruiting drivers.” You ran your hand down Jake’s chest “Since you said you wanted to do things legally, I thought of you.” Jake smiled, seeing your eyes shine with a mischievous glow “Just for that?” He asked “And because I miss racing with you. There I said it.”
Jake laughed, placing his hand on the corner of your neck. “Yeah?” He leaned in and gave you a quick peck “And what do I get out of this?” He asked, brushing his lips over yours “You get a wonderful salary and an amazing car of your choice.” You looked at him and he bit his lower lip “What about you? Do I get you too?” He asked teasingly and you pulled his shirt. “You never lost me.” You whispered and he kissed you once more, enveloping you completely.
“Then I accept.” He smiled and looked you up and down “You know, you look pretty hot in that uniform.” You laughed and ruffled his hair “Really? You can see it better later then.” Jake smirked “If you keep looking at me this way, I'll let you arrest me.” You flicked his forehead and smiled “Careful or I’ll really arrest you, my king.”
“Get a room!” Ni-ki shouted from afar and the two of you looked at each other before bursting out laughing.
At the end of the day, this was your perfect happy ending: The two of you together, racing as King and Bullet, with no expiration date.
Pairing: Jaemin x reader
Description: If there was one thing Na Jaemin was known for, it was being a fuckboy with no interest in commitment. If there was one thing you knew him for, it was being your best friend…and long-time crush. When his group of guy friends gets tired of the roster Jaemin seems to be running through, they propose a deal - they’d each give him $100 if he could settle down with one girl for at least three months. But that was easy money to Jaemin. After all, he could just fake-date you.
Content warnings: swearing, talk about sex, mentions/consumption of alcohol, a panic attack (not the reader), one punch gets thrown, reader has a somewhat bad relationship with her parents, their obliviousness to the other’s feelings makes you want to slam your head against a wall, some angst but it’s mainly through unaddressed fluff. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything.
Word count: 31,947
A/n: I didn’t know I could write this much, but after making my smau, I was ITCHING for written work ahahahhahahahaha. Please enjoy, though who am I to tell you what to do…as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated. I love you :) also because I must tag @fullsunstrawberry in everything I do...here you go - I love you the mostest!
The semester was in full swing for just over a month, and Haechan was already tired of the amount of girls Jaemin had brought over to their apartment. The first two years of university cemented Jaemin’s image as resident fuckboy, but no one cared about the fact that they couldn’t keep him for more than a night because he was hot enough to make the one night worth it. Similarly, Jaemin couldn’t care less about being labeled a fuckboy - at the end of the day, all it meant was that he was able to get his dick wet with no added pressure from the expectation to ever commit; the concept seemed like heaven to him.
However, the start of junior year had his best friends thinking it was time for a change. As Jaemin sat down in one of their usual cafés for lunch, all eyes were on him. “Alright, Jaemin, we figure you’ve had your fun for the past two years now,” Chenle said with a gleam in his eyes.
“Too much fun…” Haechan adds under his breath.
Jaemin looked around at the group with furrowed brows. “Whatever is going on, can we stop it and just have our coffee and sandwiches like normal? Why am I being targeted for the amount of fun I’m having? You’ve all had your fair share of fun, too.”
Jeno let out a small laugh at Jaemin’s defense. “Yeah, but we aren’t nicknamed the campus fuckboy. Plus, we’ve all been in actual relationships during our time in college.”
Jaemin’s face drops, no longer interested at all in the conversation they were clearly wanting to have. “I could be in a relationship if I wanted to be, I just don’t want to,” he’s quick to mutter in reply.
“Why not?” Renjun asks, raising his eyebrows in wait.
Jaemin lets out a scoff. “All that love and commitment is stupid. You guys put so much effort into your previous relationships and yet, we’re all currently sitting at this table single. There’s no one who makes me want to even try being in a relationship. Why would I want to risk wasting all that effort on someone?”
His six best friends eyed each other around the table, either not buying it or not caring. “Look man,” Mark starts, getting Jaemin to turn his attention over to him. “Regardless of how you feel about love, Haechan is tired of listening to you and whatever girl you bring home that night…and he’s especially tired of it always being a different girl to walk in on him while he’s singing in the kitchen making breakfast. So, to maybe help him out, and also to test your ability because honestly, I don’t know if any of us think you’re capable…in the nicest way possible, of course. We wanna propose a bet- or a deal is probably the better word for it.” Jaemin shoots his gaze over to the rest of them, but no one bore a look of amusement, they were all curiously locked in. “If you can get a girlfriend and settle down for at least three months, we’ll give you $600.”
Well originally, Jaemin had no interest in any part of this, but if everything worked out the way his brain was planning it, that $600 could potentially be easy cash…not to mention a lot of it.
“I’m in,” he pipes up immediately, truthfully stunning his best friends at the table. Nevertheless, they all shake on it, and then Jaemin only has one thing to do…after finishing his coffee and sandwich, of course.
One day later, you get a text from Jaemin. Free to catch up today? Your cheeks blush warmly at the message. It wasn’t anything special, but after being glued to each other’s sides during high school, college saw you and Jaemin having considerably less time for each other; so it was always nice to see you were still a thought in his mind because truly, you missed your best friend like no other.
Free to catch up everyday :)) You respond, and Jaemin’s reply comes instantaneously.
Perfect ;) meet you at the café in two hours
You check the clock before mapping out how you would spend all your time in between now and then, quickly deciding most of it should be directed towards making yourself look presentable, seeing as you’ve done nothing but rot in bed all morning.
Fast forward two hours and you were already sitting at one of the café tables when the bell rang as Jaemin walked through the door. He scans the inside before his eyes find you and he lights up. “Hi, best friend!” He says overenthusiastically as he pulls out the chair across from you. You furrow your brows at his tone, not to mention his usage of ‘best friend,’ when you think you remember Jaemin calling you that only once before when you were both still in high school, and had since never labeled you like that again - not that it was an incorrect label, but one that he typically didn’t make a huge deal about unless…
“Oh, god,” you start sarcastically. “What mess did you get yourself into now?”
“Hey!” Jaemin shoots back in mock hurt, moving a hand over his heart as if you’ve just shot him. You let out a light laugh, rolling your eyes.
“Sorry, Jaem, please continue.”
He immediately ducks his head to face his lap, his tone bearing a fraction of the force it previously had. “Okay so, I got myself into a mess.” You can’t help the genuine laugh that escapes you as you shake your head. Jaemin whips his head up to face you in response, but as you manage to stop your laughter, all you can do is meet his gaze with a softness in your eyes that perfectly balanced the playful smirk on your lips.
“I’ve missed you a lot, you know,” you respond, and Jaemin rolls his lips inward to try and stop the smile as he directs his gaze somewhere off to the side.
“Yeah, hoping you’re still thinking that after I explain,” he replies hesitantly, and your face falls in an instant.
“You got me into a mess?!” You ask in disbelief, and Jaemin lets out a light sigh.
“Not yet, but that’s kind of the goal,” he answers, scrunching up his facial features as he waits for your reprimanding. Though it never comes, and instead, you speak plainly through a sigh.
“An explanation needs to come out of your mouth in three, two-”
Jaemin curls himself into a ball as best he can while sitting in the café chair, wanting some kind of physical defense before explaining himself in a rush. “I need us to fake date for three months so can you please please please be my fake girlfriend?” When he doesn’t get coffee thrown at him, he takes a moment to unfurl himself and look over at you again, his gaze met with your indifferent expression.
“Why?” You ask neutrally, and it seems to finally hit Jaemin that you were still the same sane, comforting presence you always had been, even if the two of you hadn’t properly hung out in over a year. He settles more decidedly into his chair, though he still frames his words through a lens of embarrassment, figuring that might be the best way to get you to agree - if you knew he knew he was stupid.
“$600 and to prove something to my friends,” he replies, his words light but his demeanor dead serious.
“And why me?” You toss back, causing Jaemin to roll his eyes as he throws his gaze off to the side again with a scoff.
“Cause every other girl I know has a crush on me and it’d make this very weird. I’m not trying to actually be in a relationship. That’s the last thing I want.” His words this time are firm enough to match his demeanor, and it has you taking a sip of your coffee to fight back the awkwardness you would’ve otherwise choked on.
“...Right,” you say in agreement, because out of all the times you could come clean about your huge crush on your best friend, right after he tells you that he doesn’t want a relationship is probably the worst time to do so.
“So?” Jaemin inquires hopefully, snapping you out of your thoughts. You flick your gaze up to him before immediately darting it back to your coffee on the table, one of your hands messing with the straw absentmindedly. Then you give in, because you suck at saying ‘no’ to your best friend.
“...Fine, but then we’re making a contract,” you say plainly, swirling the ice around in your americano. Jaemin lets out something like a laugh, shaking his head.
“Y/n, you’re taking this so seriously-” He starts, but you whip your head back up to him in an instant, cutting him off with sincerity.
“They’ll see right through it if we don’t,” you state, and you watch Jaemin’s adam's apple bob up and down in his throat as he swallows awkwardly.
He shakes out of it before putting his hands up in defeat. “Okay, whatever. Go ahead,” he replies, disinterested. You roll your eyes, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from your backpack. Then you get to writing, because you were gonna need to set some intense boundaries if you were hoping to make it out of this alive.
“Alright, I think this should be good for right now,” you say after a few minutes, sliding the piece of paper his way. He takes one glance at it before letting out a laugh and directing his gaze back to you with raised brows.
“‘No kissing?’ I don’t mean to alarm you, but that’s actually the quickest way for them to see right through it,” he quips. You run your fingers through your hair awkwardly as you dodge his gaze, finally nodding your head with a sigh.
“Okay fine, we can change it. No kissing unless they bring it up or get suspicious. Good?” You ask, finally looking up at him again. He lets an amused smile paint its way across his lips as he stares at you across the table.
“Ha, we’ll keep it for now,” he agrees before turning his attention back to the paper and looking over the next thing you wrote. “‘No weird nicknames?’” He reads, popping his head back up to look at you for clarification. You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed.
“Yeah, like sugar, pumpkin, honey, buttercup, sweetie, sweetheart, cutie pie, baby, babe, darling-” You’re cut off by a genuine laugh from Jaemin, helping you realize you’ve missed the sound of it a lot, and not at all helping the awkward situation you’ve gotten yourself into.
“Okay, you’re just naming every pet name imaginable,” he counters as though you were crazy.
You roll your lips inward, hesitating on how to respond before opting with a near-whisper. “I don’t like them,” you admit quietly, and Jaemin’s demeanor falls from playful to understanding. He opens his mouth to reply but closes it again before any words get out, instead taking another moment to think.
“They’re gonna expect me to call you something,” he finally says, speaking as though it were an apology.
You sigh, knowing he wasn’t lying. Idly messing with your hands, you reply quietly. “...are they gonna expect me to call you something, too?” You ask, and Jaemin contemplates with a sorry nod.
“Yeah, probably. Look, you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with, and if that’s just ‘Jaem,’ that’s fine.”
A more lenient answer than you were expecting, you shoot your head up to look back at him again, though your brows slightly furrow as you address the part he didn’t. “What about you?”
Jaemin lets out a soft sigh. “How about I just limit my usage of pet names, and I won’t call you anything food-related,” he suggests lightly, figuring those nicknames having made up your first seven examples meant you hated them the most. You roll your eyes but a smile crosses your face regardless because he was right, after all…and caring enough to actually realize that.
“I can live with that,” you relent, and a big grin comes back onto Jaemin’s face at the progress. He moves his attention back towards the contract, but immediately is whipping his gaze back to you in hurt.
“Why can’t I be the one to break it off?” He pouts, and you have half a mind to laugh, but you know he’s serious.
“If you date me for exactly three months and then break up with me, no matter how believable we make it, they’re either going to know it was set up or they’re going to assume you learned nothing and probably not give you the money,” you explain, and Jaemin’s pout turns into an impressed nod.
“You have a point…” He breathes out, causing you to smirk.
“I know.”
He bites on his bottom lip, deep in thought before turning back to you again. “We probably shouldn’t date for exactly three months then, either,” he adds, and you flash your eyebrows in recognition.
“That’s also true,” you say before putting together a calendar in your head. “Well, if today’s September 27th, three months is December 27th, so…we could have New Year’s Eve be our last night together?” You suggest awkwardly. Though, when you look back up towards Jaemin, he’s putting your timeline together with a nod.
“Works for me,” he cedes, scribbling your end date somewhere off to the side before continuing to scan down the list. His next question comes with the very last bullet point on the contract. “‘Come home with me for Christmas dinner?’” He reads before looking up at you in confusion. You shake your head with a laugh.
“Well, you didn’t think I’d do this for nothing in return, did you?”
Jaemin flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement. “Okay…so why Christmas dinner?” He asks, and you drop your gaze back to your coffee.
“My family keeps riding my ass about not having a boyfriend. If you come back with me and pretend to be my boyfriend there, too, then even when we end things, they’ll at least be off my case for a while,” you admit, embarrassment tainting your voice before you rush to make the request sound more appealing. “And it’s not actual Christmas dinner! It’s that first weekend after finals week. You remember the big dinner we always had with other family friends and all that,” you drag off with an awkward laugh.
“Okay,” Jaemin agrees immediately, and you look back up at him in shock.
“Really? You’re agreeing to that?” You question, but he just shrugs his shoulders.
“Y/n, you’re getting me $600, the least I can do is one dinner with your family. Besides, they’re practically my second set of parents. I’m pretty sure I had at least a hundred dinners with them during high school,” he jokes, and the tension in your shoulders falls. You guys were really doing this…all of this. The two of you left the café and parted ways soon after agreeing to the terms of the contract, Jaemin feeling $600 richer already with how easy this was going to be.
Jaemin picked you up from class on the first day you would be meeting his friends, five days after the two of you signed your contract to fake-date. He greets you with an easy smile outside of your classroom door. “Hey, you ready?” He asks, and you send a nervous smile back up at him.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” you reply with a laugh. He flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement, feeling much the same way seeing as this was probably the least conventional thing he’s ever done.
He leads you outside and towards the guys’ regular lunch spot at one of the tables set up in the campus commons. Jaemin had told his friends beforehand that he had gone and gotten himself a girlfriend and thus, to start the three month timer, and they were the ones who begged him to bring you to one of the lunches so they could meet you, and now here you were - walking casually towards the lunch table with Jaemin…too casually, Chenle noticed, because you weren’t even holding hands. He keeps quiet, but lets an easy smirk come across his face as you and Jaemin sit down next to each other.
“Alright, guys,” Jaemin starts as the rest of the friend group pins their full attention on you. “This is y/n. My girlfriend,” he says with a smile. The label sends ice through your veins. You could not believe Na Jaemin was introducing you as his girlfriend…it didn’t matter that the label was fake, the words sounded real coming out of his mouth. You turn your head to look at him, as if to get some kind of confirmation that it really was Jaemin next to you, calling you his girlfriend. By the time your gaze reaches him, he’s already looking over at you with a cheesy grin, nudging your side playfully with his arm and getting you to relax a little.
The guys go around introducing themselves, but as they make their full way around the table, Jeno immediately speaks up.
“So, how did the two of you get together?” He asks curiously. A valid question, which is why the guys all lean forward in interest, because of course they would be dying to know how their fuckboy best friend got an actual girlfriend rather than a hookup. It was a horrible question though, because it was one you forgot would ever come up, and you had no game plan to go about answering this. Though, it seemed all you had to worry about was keeping your eyes from going wide, because Jaemin did have a game plan for this, and he answered smoothly.
“I just asked her out,” he says with a shrug. “It’s always been so easy with y/n, I take it for granted most of the time. Every time I’m with her, I’m reminded that it takes no effort to breathe, that I’m standing on solid ground. We met up for coffee the other day and she said she missed me and I-” He falters for a moment, and you finally bring your gaze up from your lap to face Jaemin, just to see him shake his head as if he were breaking himself out of a nostalgia trip. “I wanted to hear that again and again,” he finally says seriously, and you can’t stop the smile from reaching your face. “So, though now it just sounds embarrassing saying it out loud, I straight up asked her to be my girlfriend right after that,” he adds through a laugh. “I had been waiting for the butterflies that everyone always talks about, but the fact that I’ve never really felt that with her just made me more sure I wanna be with her - there’s no discomfort or anxiety,” he says, and with your head ducked back in to face your lap, you miss it when he turns to look at you softly. “She’s just always felt like home.”
Jaemin’s answer seems to have done its job in convincing everyone, and it definitely did its job in reminding you that you were in deep trouble. Though, as the rest of the guys take in Jaemin’s words with an impressed nod, Mark tries to fill in his holes. “Wait, how long have you known each other?” He asks, which was another valid question seeing as Jaemin talked about you with history even though you had never met his friend group before.
“We’ve been friends since high school,” Jaemin says coolly, though this time, you’re the one to nudge him with a laugh.
“Best friends,” you add teasingly, and Jaemin chuckles as he looks over at your figure before nodding his head.
“Yeah, best friends,” he agrees fondly. “But, I’ve liked her for a while now,” he says, turning back towards the group as his face falls and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I just- obviously have the image that I do and I never wanted to get her tied up in it. She deserves more than being labeled as some fuckboy’s latest infatuation,” he says, and as you furrow your brows at him, he just shakes his head, moving on with a light smile. “Though, obviously, I saw her last week and couldn’t help it anymore.”
Sorry smiles cross most of the guys’ faces - they were no help when it came to keeping labels away from Jaemin, and he was sure putting on a convincing show, making it almost seem like it was their fault the two of you hadn’t already gotten together.
Haechan swings his gaze over to you with raised eyebrows, shifting gears to try and not to let the dampened mood actually settle in. “And you? How long have you liked him?” He asks, and you have to stop the laugh from leaving your system. Instead, you just shake your head fondly.
“Forever,” you answer truthfully, turning to face Jaemin before immediately pulling your gaze back down to your lap in embarrassment. “Any girl will tell you, it’s impossible not to fall for Na Jaemin.” At this, all the guys roll their eyes, but Jaemin just turns to study you softly, biting on his bottom lip in contemplation as he tries to sort out whether any part of your statement was true or if you were just really good at acting.
However, with the rumbling of Jisung’s stomach, he quickly discards the topic of you and Jaemin, deciding that after all the intro questions were out of the way, food was much more interesting. The guys laugh along as Jisung rips through his paper bag lunch, but it does its job in getting them to focus on their own food in front of them, too.
Casual conversation occurred over lunch, and you were pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t awkward at all. Not that you were expecting the guys to be awkward with each other, but you typically weren’t great at meeting new people; and now you were meeting six of them at once, somehow fitting right in, your occasional remarks causing the whole table to laugh - something you’d have to pat yourself on the back for later. The only disturbance comes from Chenle, who had begun leaning way back from the table, carefully balancing his weight on the bench as he seems to examine the ground by your feet.
The entire friend group eventually catches on to his antics, turning their attention towards him with raised eyebrows. “What are you doing?” Renjun finally asks, the question coming out as though he thought Chenle were crazy…which probably wasn’t too far from his actual stance on the matter.
Chenle shakes his head, pulling himself back into a normal sitting position as he locks his gaze onto you and Jaemin. “Don’t most couples have a hand placed on the other’s thigh or something while sitting? Why are you guys like- a foot away from each other?” He asks plainly. Your face drops and your eyes widen.
“We are not a foot away from each other,” you remark firmly, but then Jisung peaks beneath the table as well, pulling back up with a shrug.
“Uh, you kinda are,” he says, causing Jaemin to roll his eyes.
“Didn’t think you guys were big pda enthusiasts,” he says, trying to laugh it off, but Chenle is relentless.
“Have you kissed yet?” He asks immediately, and you almost choke.
“What?!” You return in shock, but Chenle looks between the two of you with uninterested brows.
“You’ve liked each other for forever and you’re this awkward?” He shoots back in a taunt. You sigh, collecting yourself because you knew what you were about to have to do.
“You’re right, Jaem,” you say, pulling his attention your way as you place a hand on his cheek and smile in disbelief. “Your friends are annoying,” you continue, and then you lean in and kiss your best friend and long time crush.
Admittedly, you’ve imagined this moment more times than you could count, but none of those fantasies could have prepared you for what it actually felt like to kiss Na Jaemin. His lips were perfect, he was perfect, and you knew that already but now you felt it. You remind yourself of where you’re at, why you’re kissing him in the first place, and bring yourself to pull back after the one soft kiss, trying your best to make it seem as though that alone didn’t cause you to lose your breath.
As the two of you pull away from each other, Jaemin’s gaze locks on you, running over every inch of your face with an unreadable look in his eyes to contrast the softest of smiles on his lips. “Yeah, angel, they are,” he says through an exhale, and as your face goes completely pink, his smile eases into a familiar smirk. “But if you kiss me every time they piss you off, I might have to have them stick around.”
You roll your eyes, nudging him in the side again as you focus on the playful banter and not on the fact that Jaemin just rewired your brain chemistry with one ‘angel.’ “Whatever, we both know I kiss you all the time anyways,” you tease, but as you try to shift away again, Jaemin catches your hand in his and looks at you as if you were crazy.
“No, I kiss you all the time,” he rushes to correct, and though you whip your head back to face him in offense, your eyes instantly soften upon contact, a tight smile playing at both of your features instead.
Your only thought was to kiss him again, and you’re thankful when Chenle cuts off any chance of that happening. “What is going on?” He asks in disgust, causing Renjun to laugh and shake his head.
“Hey, you were the one jumping their asses for their lack of public romance. This is your fault.”
With the conclusion of lunch, Jaemin kept you company on the walk back to your dorm. As soon as you’re out of sight from the rest of the guys, you let out a heavy sigh and accompanying drop of your shoulders. “Well, there goes rule number one…” You say in defeat. If you couldn’t even follow the first rule during your first outing as a ‘couple,’ the rest of these three months were not going to bode well for you.
Instead of matching your demeanor, Jaemin takes offense. “What, no! We changed rule number one to no kissing unless they brought it up or were suspicious, and they both, brought it up and were suspicious,” he claims firmly, but the playful tone underlying his words makes it so that all you can do is let out a small, wry laugh.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you say with a shake of your head, though the smile has made its reappearance on your face. Next to you, Jaemin stops walking, pausing for a moment as he stares at the pavement beneath your feet. As soon as you notice his absence at your side, you turn back around to face him and his small grimace.
“Thank you, by the way,” he says gently, and any remaining tension you were carrying falls away; because any time Jaemin fell softer, you were reminded of how you’d do anything for your best friend. “I don’t know if I really thanked you for letting me talk you into this. I know it’s stupid, but it’s nice to have them attacking me for whether or not I’ve kissed you rather than attacking me for my body count,” he finishes, and it feels as though all your joints had immediately locked up again.
Jaemin’s title as the campus fuckboy was not lost on you, but talking about anything close to relationships was never a strong suit for you guys; and with him quickly finding his place within a new friend group here at college, it meant you were even less in the know of his whereabouts on any given day. The last thing you were expecting was for Jaemin to keep you updated on who he just fucked, but the entire realm of conversation was always so unreachable for you two. You knew nothing of what the campus fuckboy was truly getting up to; there was sometimes talk in your class when a girl would come in beaming as she told her friends she managed to spend a night with Jaemin, but instances like that were all you got informed by, and you never dared pry deeper into those overheard conversations.
Sometimes your jealousy would damn near kill you - all these girls boasting about the fact that they had spent a night with Jaemin…you wanted to turn around half the time and tell them to forget about one night because you’ve spent countless days with him; that your entire high school career was covered in his handprints and bright smile which you were sure was laced with drugs - a smile you knew he wasn’t throwing around in the bedroom.
You never did snap, though, because it was easier to keep your ‘best friend’ label with Jaemin under the radar at college, unless you wished for tens upon hundreds of girls to line up in front of you and ask your advice on how to win his heart. Jokes on them, you were still figuring that out, yourself.
“What is your body count?” You ask with a hesitant swallow, your curiosity getting the better of you now that he’s finally brought it up.
Jaemin shoots his head up to face you but instantly dodges your eye contact again. For the first time since you’ve met him, he looks genuinely embarrassed. “Another time, y/n,” he says in soft dismissal.
You swallow harshly, in disbelief at what you were about to tell him, but as much as it would sting, it would keep your own feelings at a very needed bay. “If you still want to have sex, you can. I don’t mean to force you into celibacy. Just make sure it’s at the girl’s house so Haechan doesn’t find out,” you say lowly, and Jaemin immediately makes wide eye contact with you.
“Really?” He asks in something like shock. You act as though it’s no big thing, and you’re sure it probably shouldn’t be, anyways.
“Yeah,” you respond with a shrug.
Jaemin takes in your words with a contemplative head nod, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth before his eyes light up in alert, finding another caveat to address. “What do we do if the girl starts talking about the fact that she hooked up with me?” He asks seriously, but you’ve finally found humor in the situation, shaking your head as though there were hardly a need for the question.
“Jaem, just about every girl wants to sleep with you, or at least make it seem like she did…a random girl claiming to have hooked up with you one day is just going to sound like she’s desperate for attention. No one’s gonna take it seriously,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes. Absolutely nothing you said was wrong, and with a deep breath, Jaemin seems to accept that fact.
As he exhales, he resumes his continuation on the walk back to your dorm, a light nod of his head accompanying his next words. “Okay. Thank you-” His casual start is broken as he turns his head back over to you at his side in question. “Are you gonna be okay? Are you gonna like- hook up- uh…with other guys?” He asks curiously. All you can do is laugh at him.
“Casual hookups aren’t my thing and no way am I getting an actual boyfriend while we’re doing this, but of course I’ll be okay. I’m pretty sure your sex drive is at least ten times greater than mine. I can handle three months,” you reply lightly, and seemingly all of Jaemin’s worries about this new implementation fade away - it seemed perfectly doable without getting caught.
As you get to your dorm entrance, you and Jaemin turn to fully face each other. “Thanks again for today. I think we got them somewhat convinced,” he says through a small laugh, and you flash your eyebrows in acknowledgement.
“No reason to thank me for that - you did most of the talking,” you rebuttal playfully.
Jaemin’s laugh turns into a knowing smirk. “You were the one who kissed me,” he teases, and you shake your head, but a wide grin spreads across your lips, regardless.
“It's not my fault that they both, brought it up and were suspicious,” you remind him, putting your hands up in defense. Jaemin takes a moment to laugh again before settling into a more fond look that was reminiscent of your high school days.
“We’re gonna have to start hanging out more again since they think we’re dating, but even before all that, I think it’d make me happy if we started hanging out more again just cause I’ve missed you…and I know it’s my fault we haven’t talked as often! I got a friend group of guys and an- agenda…with girls, and as such, my entire college career up to now has unfolded in that way. But I miss you because you’ve always been my friend, not because of some agenda or fake-dating scheme.”
“Mmmmmm, best friend,” you correct with a sure smirk, making Jaemin drop his head with a laugh of defeat.
“Yeah, best friend,” he cedes, and your smirk turns into a soft smile.
“I never do anything, so just text me when you wanna hang. I’ll be there.”
He looks back up at you with a small grin and a nod. “Same goes for you,” he replies. Then, all that was left was saying ‘goodbye’ in a much more awkward way than usual, before you went back up to your room to decompress from whatever the hell just happened.
It was a week after that first lunch when you were alone and bored in your dorm. None of the guys mentioned anything about having plans for the weekend while at lunch, which you had begun to join in on every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. So, although you just saw him, you figured Jaemin wouldn’t have anything better to do than hang out with you some more today. You shoot your gaze over to the clock, agreeing there was more than enough time left in the day to make a hang out worth it, and then grabbing your phone to text Jaemin.
Hey, I’m bored. Wanna do something? You send, and Jaemin’s reply is instantaneous.
With a girl rn
For a text that’s letting you know he’s following your directions, it hurts more than you thought it would to read. You know it’s for the best that this be your reality. Jaemin had been your best friend for so long now, the last thing you wanted was to ruin that with your feelings; and while fake-dating wasn’t helping, this reality-check definitely did. He’s not just your best friend anymore, he’s the campus’ heartthrob…the campus’ fuckboy. It was the entire reason behind the bet his friends made in the first place - a circumstance like this was only expected. So, you’d have to forget about the hollow feeling in your stomach right now and instead support your best friend in a best friend way, cause no matter how many times in the next three months he’s destined to call you ‘angel’ or look over at you softly every time you talk in the group, ‘best friends’ is all you are to each other. Oh, look at you go! I figure I’m your alibi, so I guess I’ll stay in for the rest of the night so there’s no possibility of one of your friends seeing me
His reply this time took about thirty minutes to get to you, and even his last text didn’t prepare you for the brick wall that faced you with this one. Thanks
Jaemin isn’t selfish, Jaemin is busy. It’s the mantra you kept repeating to yourself, because you know he’s not selfish; and while you were expecting a reply more aligned with an apology for forcing your Friday night to be spent indoors and alone, taking the time to text that out probably was not something Jaemin could manage while another girl was surely sucking him off.
The next Thursday, it’s Jaemin’s idea to hang out after classes. The two of you decided to chill at your place so that you didn’t have to constantly pretend around Haechan, should he be in their apartment. As you swing the door open to Jaemin’s presence, he looks at you with a big grin on his face. “Hey, angel,” he says, patting the top of your head as he walks into your dorm. You track his figure deeper into the living area, looking at him quizzically because the whole purpose of him being here was that he didn’t have to call you ‘angel.’
You just shake your head with a smile as he plops down on your couch. “Hey, Jaem.”
He looks up at you with innocent eyes. “What did you want to do tonight?” He asks, and you shrug your shoulders with a laugh.
“You’re the one who wanted to come over; my plan was to do homework.” Your answer has Jaemin’s face falling, and you watch as he gets up from the couch and immediately walks out the door, leaving you completely dumbfounded. You didn’t think homework was that repulsive to him. Though, moments later, there’s another knock on your door, and you answer it to be met with Jaemin again, this time his own backpack slung across his shoulders. “Wha-?” You question with a laugh of disbelief.
Jaemin sends a smirk your way before once again walking past you and towards the couch, immediately unzipping his backpack and placing its contents on the coffee table. “Homework,” he says casually, looking up at you with raised brows and a smirk. “Best friend, fake girlfriend, study buddy…you get all the fun labels,” he teases, causing you to shake your head before relenting and joining him at the coffee table.
It was an incredibly normal night. After the two of you finished up the last of your assignments - though getting distracted every five or so minutes with stupid jokes, complaints of coursework, or a sudden remembering of a story that needed telling did not help push things along, the two of you watched a movie. You ended up making hot cocoa, because the privilege of thermostats meant that it wasn’t a crazy option, regardless of the outside temperature, and then sat on the recliner, Jaemin taking up considerably more space on the couch in response.
The two of you had always been good movie watchers with each other. You both liked to enjoy movies in the same way - the lights off, no talking, no distractions from phones…even if it was a movie you had seen a hundred times. The two of you took movie nights seriously, mainly because with each other, you could. At least, you had yet to find anyone else who would sit and watch Coraline with you and not take a break to say something about how they find it creepy or flatout don’t like the movie when it’s not even halfway over. Though, Jaemin always happily watched, saving his only comments (typically about how “they just don’t make movies like that anymore”) for the credits.
Just like that, it was like a night from high school, and it ended much the same way - a side hug with Jaemin and his promises of getting home safe, though it was you rather than your mother that he was making that promise to now.
Walking back into his apartment, Jaemin immediately catches the attention of Haechan, currently making late night ramen in the kitchen. “Did you just get back from y/n’s?” He asks, pulling his attention away from the stove to turn his head towards Jaemin.
“Yeah,” Jaemin answers casually as he makes his trek through the front space and towards his room, only getting distracted when Haechan speaks up again with a playful lilt and a matching smirk on his face.
“Good night?” He asks, causing Jaemin to furrow his brows before realizing what Haechan was actually getting at.
“What-? Oh, shut up,” he dismisses. Turning back around to face Haechan revealed him to be completely distracted from his ramen - his back now leaning against the countertop as his casual crossed arms added to the tease in his raised eyebrow. Jaemin rolls his eyes at the antics, especially considering Haechan was the main reason this whole deal was made in the first place - because he was tired of Jaemin having sex. “We didn’t have sex. We did normal couple things,” he states confidently before turning around again to actually make his way inside his room and behind his closed bedroom door.
This meant Jaemin missed the way Haechan’s playful brows furrowed in confusion, his face falling flatter as he spoke through a soft exhale. “What?” Any more time he could have had to actually question it was overridden with the need to tend to his now boiling over ramen; so Jaemin got off easy the rest of the night.
Haechan was not as forgiving the next time he saw the guys at Monday lunch, though. With you still nowhere to be seen and Jaemin in his line of sight ordering food, he addresses everything in a more serious tone than any of the guys were expecting.
“Does anyone else find it odd that they haven’t had sex yet?”
Eyes go wide at the rest of the table. “They haven’t?!” Jeno practically shouts before immediately getting embarrassed and making himself as small as possible. Haechan just shakes his head.
“They haven’t even spent the night at each other’s places yet. He always comes back home after hanging out with her and it’s always just him.”
“Maybe they’re taking it slow,” Mark replies with a shrug, but all eyes lock on him with ample skepticism.
“Does ‘slow’ seem like a Jaemin thing?” Haechan rebuttals. “I mean, come on. We’re talking about the guy who’s notorious for getting his dick wet at any available opportunity.”
“So, we think they don't really like each other? They’re faking it?” Renjun asks with pursed contemplative lips.
Haechan’s the one to shrug this time in mystery. “$600 is a hefty amount. He’d do anything he can for that, including but not limited to getting a fake girlfriend and lying to us,” he states more firmly, but that’s as Jaemin joins the table; his brows furrowed and mouth hanging slightly open as he looked around at the guys in something like disgust.
“What in the world did I just walk in on? Y/n is not my fake girlfriend. The deal money is nice but I’m at least honorable about these things,” he argues, and immediately all the guys whip their gazes towards him, varying expressions on their faces as Jisung speaks up in genuine question.
“Why haven’t you slept with her yet?” The seriousness of the question and the sheer interest in the rest of the guys’ faces gets Jaemin to roll his eyes.
“You guys are atrocious, you know that?” He says in place of an answer.
Chenle raises his brows. “The question remains,” he taunts with a smirk.
Jaemin looks him dead in the eyes as he responds. “She means more to me than that.”
“Means more to you than that?” Jeno reflects back with a laugh. “Jaemin, are you forgetting your love language?” This is the first thing you can pick up as you finally get to the table after questions from your classmates held you for more minutes than should be allowed. Regardless, you immediately jump right into conversation.
“Love language?” You echo with a smile. “There’s something I’m knowledgeable about. How’s my words of affirmation boy doing?” You continue, all your attention directed towards Jaemin as you shed your backpack from your body.
He looks up at you still standing by his side, eyes soft and speaking through a small smile. “Better now that you’re here,” he answers, and you don’t stop the bashful smile from coming across your face as you finally get situated sitting down next to him. The gentle moment is broken, though, with Jeno asking a question in total shock.
“Words of affirmation??” He begs for clarification, and the rest of the guys lean in at the table some more in apparent interest. You look at them all as though there was some joke you weren’t getting.
“Yes? What did you think it was?” You question back, and they respond in almost perfect unison.
“Physical touch.”
You can’t stop the small laugh from leaving your system as you look back at all of them seriously. “Jaemin’s good at showing love through physical touch, no doubt, but words of affirmation is by far his favorite way to receive love, it’s not even a question. And sure, part of that is how he smiles like an idiot whenever I tell him he’s the most handsome guy on the planet - which is stupid because ‘handsome’ honestly doesn’t even begin to describe it…” You trail off awkwardly before shooting your head back up to face everyone.
“But have you ever seen him receive a compliment that has nothing to do with his body or looks? The way his eyes light up like something just clicked for him? I mean, he’s so many more things before he’s physically attractive, and all he was waiting for was someone to recognize that. Every time we meet up after class and I say something like ‘I’ve been longing to be in your presence all day,’ or ‘thanks for bringing me more happiness than I’ve ever known,’ he’s practically on the verge of tears every time. It’s why when I told him I missed him that one day, all he could think to do was ask me to be his girlfriend. He’s been waiting to be missed on a level that had nothing to do with his body. He’s been waiting to be affirmed in a way that isn’t physical.”
That seemed to get everyone else at the table to shut up, swallowing awkwardly as they instead turned their attention to their food. You let out a small sigh of relief as you dig into your own sandwich, but Jaemin doesn’t think he can even take one bite anymore; a weird feeling in his stomach and his mind going a million miles an hour. When he does pick up his sandwich, it’s not because he’s finally convinced he can keep it down, but because not eating now would be incredibly suspicious to everyone…including you.
Jaemin walked you back to your dorm after lunch, something that became typical since it wasn’t always possible to pick you up from class for lunch. You were walking in comfortable silence; in fact, an element of awkwardness was only introduced once Jaemin spoke up with a strange sort of cough and hesitant words. “I didn’t know I was a words of affirmation guy,” he finally says after a couple of minutes.
With the two of you out of sightline and earshot of the others, you let your actions and reactions express more naturally. So, you paused completely, making him eventually stop and look over his shoulder at you in question. “Oh…really?!” You say in light shock before shaking your head and resuming your pace so you could catch back up to him and continue casually. “I mean, maybe you’re not then, but just from what I know-”
You’re cut off with a small laugh from Jaemin as he shakes his head softly, matching his contemplative tone. “No, I think you’re right. Everything you said I- I think you’re right.” He says it as though he were almost embarrassed by the fact, and you decide that’s the last thing you’re gonna allow him to feel in this situation.
“Oh, well, would you like me to affirm you more often then?” You ask seriously. “We aren’t exactly meeting up after class everyday and I’m not exactly telling you I’ve been waiting for that very moment, but I can.”
Jaemin is quick to dismiss the idea. “No, it’s okay. No use doing that when this whole thing is fake. I mean, rule number three or something is that everything is immediately dropped when we’re in private,” he tries to play off with a laugh, and as you finally reach the entrance to your dorm, you turn around to face him solemnly.
“Jaem, that’s not me putting on an act. You do know I love spending time with you, right? And-” You shake your head, frustrated with yourself that this is something you obviously didn’t do a good job of communicating earlier. “Take us out of this whole situation thing,” you command, finding your footing in what you’re wanting to say. “Just- as friends. I love spending time with you. I want you in my life forever, yeah?” You finish softly, and when you look back up at Jaemin, he’s quick to break eye contact.
“Yeah.”
The next few weeks saw to it that you and Jaemin were hanging out more than ever. What you saw as insane luck meant that every time you texted asking if he could hang out, he was never ‘with a girl’ at the time; and Jaemin was texting you and being the one to make plans at a far greater rate than you were, anyways. Instantly, your relationship reflected that during your time in high school - the only difference was that sometimes in the midst of trying to pretend you didn’t have the hugest crush on your best friend, you were also having to pretend you did have the hugest crush on your best friend.
Hang outs were still mainly at your place so that the two of you never had to worry about Haechan, though sometimes you’d purposely have a night in at Jaemin’s to keep Haechan convinced. This was not one of those times. Instead, you opened your door to Jaemin as you have for the past three Friday’s now, which the two of you decided would be ‘date night’ in everyone else’s eyes while really, you’d just keep a low profile and do whatever you wanted. Due to schedules, you always had an hour for homework before you’d be met with Jaemin’s presence, and he was right on time today. “Hey, Jaem!” You greet with a smile as you swing the door open and step back to allow him inside.
“Hey angel,” he replies casually, because calling you ‘angel’ was now a very typical occurrence, regardless of who was around to hear it. He flashes a smile in your direction, but instead of beelining for the couch like normal, he stops to stand kind of awkwardly in front of you before continuing hesitantly. “Mark is having a Halloween party if that’s something you’re interested in…we could go together. I know parties aren’t really your thing.” He speaks as though it were an apology, and all you can do is chuckle at his antics.
“Don’t worry about that. I am your fake girlfriend, aren’t I?” You tease in reply, and Jaemin raises his eyebrows as though he didn’t know where you were going with this.
“...Yes,” he draws out slowly, and you just shake your head at him fondly.
“So, if you’re going, then I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you answer sincerely, and though you’d never be able to convince yourself of it, you made Jaemin blush - just the tiniest bit.
He lets out something like a sigh of relief before nodding his head in acknowledgement. “Okay, I’ll tell Mark we’re going, then,” he says happily, and then suddenly it’s right back to routine as he heads for the couch to chill before the two of you could decide what all you actually wanted to do that day.
The next time you saw Jaemin was two days later when he asked if you wanted to accompany him to the store. It was all light and casual conversation as you strolled through the aisles, most of the time pointing at random items and saying ‘you’ to try and see who could get the other to laugh more. The bit promptly ended when you pointed at a Scrub Daddy to relate Jaemin to, but he instead teased you endlessly for using an item with “daddy” in the name. The only thing to veer his topic of conversation away from that was when you passed the aisle that had been repurposed into Halloween decorations and costumes, making him stop in his tracks.
“Have you decided on a costume for the party yet?” He asks curiously, and you turn back around to face him and redirect your path to peruse the Halloween aisle, touching random bits of costumes before dropping them back to the rack with a shake of your head.
“Well, I was gonna go as an angel since that’s kind of what you call me now, but if we do it as a couple’s costume, then you’d end up as the devil or a demon or whatever, and I don’t love the idea of that. So…would you wanna go as Team Rocket instead?” You ask in return. Jaemin swallows awkwardly as he takes in everything you just said, but he can’t take too long to explore the slightly comforting feeling brought on by you saying the idea of him as a devil wasn’t your favorite…because that wouldn’t be very ‘I don’t care what anyone else thinks’ of him. Instead, he resorts back to a familiar tease, an eyebrow raised as a playful smirk crossed his lips.
“Who said I wanted to do a couple’s costume?” He shoots back and your face immediately goes red as you scramble for words.
“Oh! You don’t- I was just- it’s not-” You’re cut off with a warm laugh from Jaemin.
“Breathe, angel, I was just messing with you,” he reassures with a shake of his head.
“Maybe you would make a good demon,” you deadpan in return, and Jaemin’s eyes light with fire as his jaw drops.
“Hey!”
“Just messing with you, Jaem,” you banter back, and Jaemin bites on the inside of his cheek to stop a wide grin from making an appearance at your behavior.
“I’m fine going as Team Rocket, as long as I get to be James,” he says with a mock seriousness, effectively getting you to smile as you roll your eyes.
“Well, I wasn’t going to suggest you be Jessie,” you assure in the same manner, and Jaemin nods his head, seemingly content with the plan before another question comes to mind.
“Are we dying our hair?” He asks, and this time he’s actually serious. You think about it for a second before giving into the idea with a contemplative nod.
“We can get the spray that lasts up until you wash it,” you suggest, and with a nod from Jaemin, your Halloween costumes were set - all you had to do was make them.
Fast forward a week and the only thing left to do was iron on the ‘R’ decal on Jaemin’s top, which was exactly what you were doing in his apartment as he took the time to spray blue in his hair. You look up from the heat press as Jaemin walks out of the bathroom. “Huh,” you let out involuntarily, and if you were any less close with Jaemin, you would’ve been embarrassed beyond words. However, he just looks at you with furrowed brows and a curious grin.
“What?” He asks, and you shrug your shoulders as though it were nothing big.
“You look good with blue hair,” you answer, trying your best to be casual about it.
Jaemin’s curious grin had turned into a shiteating one. “Oh, yeah?” He digs, trying to get under your skin; though, you thwart the attempt immediately, instead responding with nonchalance - the exact opposite of what he was reaching for.
“Well, no more than normal,” you reply, and Jaemin’s brows raise impossibly.
“Now, what does that mean?” He asks playfully, but you just shake your head.
“You’re the fuckboy, Jaemin. You know what I’m getting at.” With that, your attention was back on the iron as it beeped and let you know his shirt was ready. You pull it out from under the heat and turn it around so Jaemin could see the final product, and with a nod of approval, he grabs it from your hands and heads back to the bathroom.
“Looks great, angel,” he finally says, studying his appearance in the mirror before walking back out to the living area. You just drop your head as you feel your face heat up at the compliment.
“I’ll uh- go get ready,” you say quietly, and then you grab your own costume and hair spray before trading places with him in the bathroom.
Jaemin doesn’t hide his small smile as he watches you walk back out to the living area in your matching costume with him, and you try your best to pin your focus anywhere other than his soft gaze. “Um- drinking at parties isn’t really my thing so- I can drive us back here afterwards. You can drink however much you want,” you get out awkwardly before moving to sit down next to him on the couch.
Jaemin chuckles lightly in response to your behavior. “Are you sure?”
You nod your head profusely. “Of course. You enjoy parties a lot. I don’t want you to change an aspect of it just because I’m there, too. So, however much you normally drink…go for it.”
Jaemin studies your figure with ample doubt covering his features. “I don’t know. Me drinking while knowing I have a ride home typically means I turn into too much to handle,” he jokes, but any form of negative self-talk from him always grounds you, and you’re quick to refute it.
“Not for me,” you say, turning your head to make eye contact with him. “Never for me.” Your soft reassurance has Jaemin simply staring at you, and you quickly turn your head back to face your lap as you overthink every little embarrassing thing you’ve already done tonight. On the other hand, Jaemin didn’t even think twice before leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek.
Your cheeks puff out with a smile in immediate response to the contact, but as you lift your gaze back up to face Jaemin, your attention is caught by Haechan, who had just walked out of his room in costume - a vampire costume that was already iconic and he hadn’t even done anything yet.
Your soft smile turns into a full-on grin as you address him. “Woah, Hyuck. You look great!” You say with a laugh, and Jaemin whips his head around to face his roommate just to fall into his own bout of laughter.
“Oh, fuck off,” Haechan replies with a playful roll of his eyes as he walks towards the door. “Are you two gonna head out soon?” He asks more seriously, and Jaemin gives a light nod.
“Yeah, we won’t be too far behind you. Y/n just isn’t a huge fan of parties, so we opted for fashionably late rather than fashionably early.”
Haechan flashes his eyebrows up in acknowledgement before turning back from the front door to face the two of you again. “Alright. Don’t violate the couch too much in the meantime. It’s my favorite couch,” he banters, and this time it’s you and Jaemin to roll your eyes.
“You fuck off,” you say through a grin, and Haechan drops his head with a loud laugh before bringing his gaze back to the two of you with a soft smile.
“I’ll see you guys soon,” he says happily, and with that, he’s out the door.
It was about thirty minutes later when you and Jaemin entered the party house hand-in-hand. As soon as you got in, you realized your friend group was a lot more popular than you ever thought, because seemingly everyone you went to school with was here. For parties already feeling overwhelming, parties where you could hardly move without bumping into someone were even more so. Though, in the midst of the blaring music, a hundred different conversations, and all the dancing, your attention is turned to your interlocked hand with Jaemin as he gently rubs his thumb across the back of your hand.
You shoot your gaze up at him just to see he’s already staring back down at you softly. Unlike you, he looked completely at home in the party scene, though you figure one can’t truly get labeled a fuckboy without being so. That’s also why you assume he was able to tell you were already uncomfortable from the second you stepped inside.
Hardly a few feet from the entrance, he leans down to you at his side, speaking slowly in your ear so you could make it out from the rest of the noise. “We’ll stay only as long as you want, okay? If you wanna turn back around right now, we can.”
You shake your head minimally, turning to face him and realizing that action placed your lips dangerously close together. You roll them inwards in hesitation before shifting your gaze to his own. “I’m not going to make you leave super early. You like parties.”
A smirk plays on Jaemin’s lips as he raises an eyebrow at you. “I like you more,” he replies playfully.
You dart your gaze off to the side, ripping your hand away from his in the process. “I’m fine. Let’s just go find our friends.” You take a step out from the entryway but quickly notice Jaemin isn’t following. You whip your head around to face him just to see his hand outstretched for you again.
“If we’re going to go find our friends, your hand better be in mine,” he quips, causing you to roll your eyes before obliging and lacing your fingers back together. He gives your hand a light squeeze as he flashes you a wide smile and drags you to where he already saw Haechan, Jeno, and Renjun.
“Hey, you guys look great!” Jeno says with a bright smile as the two of you join their circle. Jaemin finally slides his hand out of yours to instead place it on the small of your back. Despite yourself, a small smile comes onto your face, not at Jeno’s words, but at Jaemin’s touch, and you relax a bit more against his hand.
Jaemin is the one to actually respond as the other two guys turn their attention to the both of you as well. “Thanks! My incredible, beautiful girlfriend made the costumes,” he says, tossing his gaze over to you at his side. You roll your eyes at him, but your smile grows.
“Making it is not the same as making it look good. You did that all on your own,” you shoot back earnestly. The three guys in front of you throw on a look of disgust, as if they weren’t the ones telling Jaemin he needed a girlfriend. Jaemin just looks over at you with a soft gleam in his eyes, his mouth straining as he tries to conceal a smile. He opts to just kiss you on the cheek instead, then reaching for your far shoulder and pulling you his way. He snakes his arms around you to keep you there in a hug from behind, his thumb gently rubbing up and down your waist. The five of you stood in a circle just talking for at least an hour. Occasionally, one of them would leave to grab drinks for the group, though you were sure to just stick to water the entire night as everyone around you became a comfortable state of tipsy.
Eventually, Jaemin unwound his arms from your figure, causing you to turn your head and look up at him in question. He lets an easy smile paint his lips. “I’m just running to the bathroom real quick. I’ll come find you again in a few.”
You nod your head, and your eyes follow Jaemin for as long as they could before he became completely indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd. You turn your attention back to Renjun, Jeno, and Haechan. “I’m gonna go find Mark,” you start with an awkward laugh. “I don’t know if he even knows Jaemin and I are here.” The three of them nod at you, Renjun racking his foggy brain for where he thinks he last saw him. You nod, thanking them for their company so far, and then heading off towards the kitchen under the guidance of Renjun’s memory.
When Jaemin steps out of the bathroom, he almost immediately runs into the body of another guy. Opening his mouth to apologize, the guest beats him to words.
“Jaemin, nice costume,” he says, and Jaemin loses his tension at the compliment.
“Oh, thank you-” He starts, but is quickly cut off again by the stranger.
“You got another one of your hoes to match with tomorrow?” He slurs with a smile, throwing an arm around Jaemin’s shoulder.
Jaemin’s eyes widen as he snakes out under the touch, guiding their hand back down to their side. “Uh, no, y/n’s my girlfriend. It’s just her and we’re just out for tonight,” he replies, turning his gaze away from the man to instead scan the crowd and try to lay eyes back on you.
“Ha! Good one,” the guy laughs out, and Jaemin snaps his gaze back to him in confusion.
“Good one?” He echoes back in question, but with a hard slap on his back that Jaemin thinks was meant to be playful, his conversation partner quickly leaves. Jaemin stands there for a moment puzzled, but he tries to shake out of the uncomfortable feeling as he directs his gaze back to the big crowd, looking for where you may have wandered off to once he sees you’re no longer with the previous group.
He quickly realizes he wouldn’t be able to find you by standing in one place, so he picks up his feet and starts weaving through the crowd again. When he feels a hand on his back, he assumes it’s you, and he whips around towards the figure. His face quickly drops when he realizes it isn’t you, and suddenly he’s extremely conscious of how everyone’s been touching him tonight.
“Such a shame your costume shows so little skin,” the girl says with a small pout and a fake innocence in her eyes. Jaemin tries to take a step back, just to bump into more people dancing and forcing him back into close proximity. He swallows hard, accepting the fact that he was having to engage in this conversation now.
“My girlfriend picked it out,” he says firmly, and the girl in front of him just tilts her head to the side, now rubbing a hand up and down his arm.
“Well, she’s ruining the fun,” she replies, something like pity in her eyes as she looks at Jaemin. He furrows his brows, his breath getting heavier as the air seems to get thinner.
“Um, I- I think I’m still fun without showing skin,” Jaemin fumbles out, and the girl just laughs, finally letting her hand drop from his arm as her doe-eyed expression turns mean.
“You’d like to believe that,” she says, shaking her head and walking off.
Jaemin stared after her in a weird mix of hurt and confusion that he hadn’t ever felt before. “What?” He asks in defeat, but there was no one there to give him any clarification.
He desperately starts looking around for you again. If he could just get back to you, if he could just slip his hand into yours, he was sure the heavy weight that’s found its way onto his chest would disappear. He was shaking, he didn’t know when he had started shaking, but it seemed to take the place of his breathing, and now he was worried about whether or not he would even have time to find you before he suffocated. Almost all the effort he was placing into finding you was now being placed into holding back his tears. Everything was too loud, he couldn’t hear his own thoughts, couldn’t hear his voice if he spoke aloud, suddenly not sure if he was even getting any words out when he opened his mouth, which only worried him more because he was dying and he couldn’t tell anyone.
Holding your hand, it was the only positive thought he could seem to cling to, the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the floor in a ball - he had to find you, he wanted to hold your hand. He thinks it’s a miracle that his feet are able to start moving again, especially when someone definitely put 50 lb weights in his shoes without him knowing.
He finally lays eyes on you, now in the kitchen talking with Mark, Chenle, and Jisung. Though you were maybe ten feet away, it might as well have been miles, as another hand gets placed on his chest from a random girl in front of him. “James, let me know if you get bored of Jessie later. I can give you a good time,” she says with a smirk, and Jaemin feels like he’s going to throw up; though he can’t quite tell if that was because of her words or the whirlwind of the past three minutes. In fact, if he knew just how badly he was shaking, he would’ve questioned how she didn’t feel it when she placed her hand on his chest.
He shakes his head as quickly as he could without getting too dizzy to continue his trek towards you. “No, I quite like Jessie,” he says through hiccups, not sure when the first stray tear made its way down his cheek. He pushes past the girl without giving her time to respond and make him feel worse. All he wanted was you, and when he finally got close enough to place his shaky hand in yours, all he could manage were whispered words that he prayed would reach you, or at least leave his mouth at all.
“Please don’t leave me.”
Still in conversation with Mark, Chenle, and Jisung, you don’t turn too much attention to Jaemin slightly behind you as you settle your hand into his touch, but that’s when you feel how badly he’s shaking. “Jaem, are you okay?” You ask at your side, though your eyes remained trained on Chenle as he told the least dramatic story in the most dramatic way.
“There’s a lot of people here,” Jaemin whimpers out, the answer confusing enough to pull your focus away from Chenle.
“I know-” You start, your gaze following from your interlocked hands up his arm and to his face, but that’s when you actually see the state he’s in and your face instantly falls into worry. A steady stream of tears cascaded down his cheeks, his eyes tightly shut to block out the extra stimulation, only opening them to look at you before promptly getting embarrassed and turning away. You immediately squeeze his hand a little tighter in your hold, getting him to train his eyes back on you. You pick up your words as he does so, careful to hide your immense worry in your tone and instead speaking softly for him. “Hey…let’s get you to a quieter room, okay?”
Jaemin nods his head minimally, able to let out a choked response. “Okay.” You take no extra time in telling the others that you were going to have to get filled in on the story later. Instead, you just make sure your grip on Jaemin’s hand is enough to not lose him while navigating through the crowd as you immediately lead him upstairs and into an empty room.
“Talk to me, what’s going on?” You say, closing the door and turning on a soft lamp light before you whip back around to watch Jaemin pace the entire floor, his fingers running frantically through his hair.
“I don’t know. Everyone keeps talking to me and touching me and everything is so loud and my head hurts and it’s so hot I’m sweating and dizzy and freaking out-” He spoke all at once, and you knew the last thing he needed was to run out of breath while explaining. You jump to cut him off, still trying your best to make your voice as calming as possible for him.
“Hey…it’s gonna be okay. Can you sit down for me?” The second you said it, Jaemin was on the floor, his heavy breaths visibly not making it to his whole body. Your eyes soften some more as you look at him. It didn’t take a genius to tell you he’s never been in this situation before, and all he knew to do was trust you. You let out a soft sigh as you move closer to him. “I know you said you’re hot and sweaty and overwhelmed with touch, but is it okay if I hug you?”
“Please.” The word comes out weak, riddled with enough tears to make you break. You sit down behind him, placing your legs out along his own outstretched ones as you gently hug him from behind.
“You can close your eyes, just focus on my voice. You’re gonna be okay,” you state with confidence, rubbing a thumb gently up and down his side. Jaemin is quick to refute, shaking his head with an intensity you wish he wouldn’t right now.
“No, y/n, it feels like I’m dying,” he says, fear covering every aspect of his voice. You let out a soft sigh.
“You’re not dying, you’re panicking.” This, too, he refuses to accept. His response comes out as firm as it could through tears.
“I don’t panic. I’m the cool guy. I’m not panicking, I’m dying.”
Despite yourself, a small laugh escapes you through an exhale, and you hug Jaemin to you extra tight. “Baby, no matter how cool you are, there’s not a person in the world completely immune to panic attacks.”
Jaemin stills for a moment, the sudden switch confusing you before he speaks and confuses you even more. “I thought you didn’t like that word,” he says, wiping his face of tears and then placing his hands on your own arms around his torso.
You furrow your eyebrows, though with him in front of you, there was no point. “What word?” You ask. Surely he wasn’t talking about the word ‘panic attack’ but racking your brain, there was nothing else you said that wasn’t just a normal word.
“You don’t know you said it,” he says curiously, a small sniffle coming from his figure as he tries his own attempt at a light laugh.
“What are you talking about, Jaem?” You question again. At this point, you were sure one of you was going crazy, and you really were banking on it not being you. Though, Jaemin just dismisses the subject, and with you sitting behind him, you missed the small smile that now covered his features.
“Nothing, please just continue holding me like this,” he begs softly, and you nod your head, squeezing him tighter for a second.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you reply seriously, and there you and Jaemin sat for at least another ten minutes; the only noise to break the silence was his occasional cries as he still tried to rid himself of tears and calm down completely.
When you couldn’t remember his last sniffle, you start to rub your thumb up and down a portion of his waist, disrupting the physical stillness before you spoke and disrupted the silence.
“I wanna get you some water soon,” you say gently, but any attempt to move from your position was shot down as Jaemin quickly fumbled to grab your arms and press them firmly back down across his torso, his body beginning to shake again at the idea of you getting up.
“No! Don’t leave! Please,” he chokes out, and almost all of the progress you thought he made in the past few minutes was erased.
You sigh, and refusing to think about the fact that you were practically breaking your own rule, you lean forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m staying right next to you, Jaem,” you start, and you watch as he basically forces his breathing to get back to normal at your words…or at least tries to. “Do you want me to call Jeno and get him to bring up water for you, or do you want to follow me down to the kitchen, grab a water bottle, and leave?”
Jaemin thinks for a moment before dropping his head in what you assume was shame, which was the last thing he needed to be feeling. “I- can we leave?”
You squeeze your arms around his body once more in acknowledgement. “Yeah, come on,” you reply, and the two of you slowly make your way off the floor and into a standing position. As you let go of his waist, you immediately grab his hand in yours, looking up at Jaemin for confirmation that this was what he wanted to do. He stared back down at you with a teary smile and nod, and with that, you led him out of the bedroom and back downstairs.
Thankfully, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung were still in the kitchen, meaning you had to cover no extra ground to fill Mark in on your departure.
“Hey, I’m gonna take Jaemin home,” you say, turning to face Mark after grabbing a water bottle from the fridge he was standing next to.
Mark furrows his brows. “Everything okay?” He asks, knowing Jaemin wasn’t one to leave parties early, nor was he one to have tear streaks painted across his face.
You try to smile but it comes out more as a grimace. “Yeah, he’s just a little overwhelmed today. Thank you for inviting us, though. It was a blast.”
Mark nods his head in understanding. “Thanks for coming. Are you driving?”
“Yeah,” you reply, and Mark forces some sobriety back in his system.
“You haven’t had anything to drink, have you?” He asks in worry, and you let a grateful smile paint your face as you respond.
“No, I’m okay.”
Mark nods before taking another sip of his own drink. “Okay. Be safe. I’ll see you guys soon.” You reciprocate his nod in acknowledgement and then immediately lead Jaemin towards the front door and back to the car.
You make sure he’s all taken care of in the passenger seat before you start messing with the controls in the driver’s seat to move it to where you could actually drive. You make a mental note to apologize about changing the position of his seat and mirrors tomorrow after everything’s calmed down, but as you start driving, Jaemin is the one to beat you to an apology.
“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, and you risk a quick glance over at him with furrowed brows.
“Huh, why?”
Jaemin fiddles with his fingers in his lap, unable to look anywhere else because of his embarrassment. “For making you leave the party. You were having fun,” he answers softly, and despite your best efforts, a small laugh escapes you.
“Jaem, I was having fun because all we did was hang around with our group of friends. I don’t care for parties in and of themselves, you know that. Truthfully, I’d rather just be with you right now,” you say, and as you pull up to a stop sign, you look back over at him again. Defeat riddled his features as he spits out a response.
“But I’m just crying.” He speaks those words as though he were mad at himself for it, and you don’t understand how your best friend came to believe that he always had to be some perfectly presented guy.
You let out a sigh before turning your attention back to the road. “It doesn’t change the fact that I like spending time with you. Besides, you’d be crazy to think I’d rather be anywhere else right now when you’ve got me so worried about you.” When the only response from Jaemin is another sob he tries to cover up, you frown. “I’m not mad at you for making us leave the party early, and I’m not mad at you for crying,” you add on, and Jaemin finally lifts his head to look over at you in his driver’s seat. He seems to scan your figure up and down, processing your words and the fact that you were actually taking care of him right now. He sniffles once more before abruptly turning his focus back to his lap, and the car ride is silent the rest of the way to his apartment.
As soon as Jaemin gets into his own room, he already looks a thousand times better; the tension in his shoulders finally falls and his breathing gets more regular. You scavenge around his apartment for anything he may need during the night and next morning, because outside of his panic attack, he was still tipsy, too.
With a fresh water bottle and ibuprofen set on his night stand, you bid Jaemin goodnight, running a hand gently through his hair as he laid down in bed. However, before you can fully turn around and leave, Jaemin catches the hand you just had in his hair. In shock, you whip back around, just to be met with wide pleading eyes.
“Please stay,” he says softly, and your breath hitches for a moment before you resume your cool, or at least try to.
“Jaemin-” You start, your tone already giving way to your refusal. Though, Jaemin cuts you off in an instant, his grip on you getting slightly tighter.
“You said you wouldn’t leave me,” he shoots back, and his voice is already shaky again from the sudden raise in volume of his claim.
You sigh, trying to slowly snake your hand out of his grip as you reply. “Yeah, but I was kind of meaning that for while we were still at the party, not…now, when you’re going to sleep.”
He refuses to let you out of his hold, and he pulls you even closer to the end of the bed. “What if Haechan comes back?” He starts, trying his best to talk normally. “He’d be really confused as to why you didn’t stay over after the night I had.”
Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “There’s no shot Haechan makes it back tonight or is sober enough to think about anything but getting in bed himself. You’re just saying that to try and convince me.”
He finally lets his grip on you drop as he lets out a heavy breath bordering on the dividing line between defeat and hope. “Is it working?” He asks, and though you were finally free from his grasp, able to just say a final goodnight and leave to head back to your place, you don’t. Instead, you drop your head, speaking so softly you’re not sure Jaemin would even be able to hear.
“I want the side next to the wall.”
With your gaze facing the floor, you couldn’t see the sudden warm glow behind Jaemin’s eyes as he pulled back the comforter on that side and pulled his legs up so you could crawl over by the foot of the bed, neither of you saying another word as you do.
Jaemin didn’t know why he was so captivated by watching you fall asleep in his bed. The two of you must’ve been at least a full foot away from each other, as you immediately made sure to press up against the wall and make yourself as small as you could. That was fine by Jaemin. He wasn’t asking for the two of you to cuddle in the first place - this was still a fake relationship after all, and he was very much aware of that. In fact, that truth was probably more plaguing than ever at the front of his mind. Now instead of a reminder that he had to pretend to date you, it was a reminder that this was ending in two months. Jaemin’s tipsy brain couldn’t put together what the sinking feeling in his chest meant at the realization of that. So, he pushed it away, and just looked over at you sleeping peacefully right up against the wall. He didn’t need to have his arms around you - knowing you were next to him was enough, and for the first time that night since the party started, he was completely at peace.
When you wake up and realize you were more comfortable than usual in your bed, you open your eyes and figure out that it’s because you’re not in your bed. In fact, you’re hardly resting against a bed at all. Instead, one of your arms is lazily thrown over your best friend’s waist as your head rested comfortably, incredibly too comfortably, on his chest. The discovery that your legs were some kind of interlaced didn’t make things any better, and the full realization that you were practically on top of Jaemin had you jolt. This, of course, didn’t do anything but wake him up. With your head now propped up on his chest, you watch as he slowly peeks open one of his eyes, exhaustion still written over all his features. However, the second his gaze lands on you, he shoots open both eyes. Embarrassment quickly floods your being as you address everything. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
You’re cut off with a light chuckle and softly spoken words from Jaemin. “You’re okay.” Regardless of his response, you can’t shake the embarrassment. Jaemin’s arms fall from around your body as you try to get up, and that’s when you realize both of his arms were wrapped around you in the first place. You push the thought to the back of your head, turning to get off of his bed completely.
You’re stopped by his hand grabbing yours. You quickly turn your attention back to Jaemin, who still had yet to move any part of his body but his arms as he looks at you softly, pleading. “Can we go back to sleep?”
You swallow awkwardly, your throat now suddenly dry. You dart your eyes around his room before sighing and just landing your gaze back on him. “Um, do you still need me here for that?” You ask genuinely. Jaemin breaks eye contact this time, as he just looks down at your two hands still holding onto each other. He gives a slow nod of his head, humming a little.
You bite your lip to stop a smile from coming onto your face. It wasn’t often that you got to see your best friend looking as gentle and small as he did now. Jaemin, with the larger than life personality just wanting to stay in bed with you, it was hard to say ‘no.’ So, you don’t. “Okay.” Though when you move to resume your position back by the wall, he chuckles a bit and uses your still interlocked hands to pull you back onto him.
The next two days after you woke up on top of Jaemin (again) were filled with an awkward period of zero contact between the two of you. You couldn’t blame him for not responding to your text to hang out the day after. You were both really good at never crossing lines back in high school, but Halloween put a blur on every single one…and it didn’t help that he was tipsy that night, too. Outside of whatever rules in your contract were broken, you were sure Jaemin was also just embarrassed to no end.
There was a lot of pressure on him to be this man with no emotions; his label as a fuckboy meant people typically started and stopped all their thoughts about him at the sexual level, and he did his best to live up to their many expectations in that department, neglecting all the other parts of his being that needed tending to. Vulnerability was not a Jaemin specialty, largely because it’s never what anyone was looking for from him; and anything that lessened his sex appeal, and thus meant he couldn’t make a call and immediately have any girl he wanted, was a possibility he sought to avoid.
You didn’t necessarily mind the no-contact, though. Your heart was doing flips and spins in Jaemin’s presence on Halloween, and you had to give yourself a cool-down period before seeing him so that you could act normal around him again - whatever it was that ‘normal’ looked like when you were having to convince a group of friends that you liked your best friend while convincing your best friend you didn’t actually like him.
Jaemin made up an excuse for your absence at Monday’s lunch, but on Tuesday he finally messaged you again and asked you out for ice cream, which you of course said ‘yes’ to. He meets you at the entrance to your dorm and smiles at you with something like a sigh of relief when you smile back at him; though, with his messy hair, thick-framed glasses, and a hoodie adorning his figure, it was hard to do anything but smile - he looked criminally boyfriend.
“Hey, I’m- sorry…for it being weird these past few days,” he gets out somewhat awkwardly as you start on your walk towards the best ice cream parlor by campus.
You shake your head with a small laugh. “It’s okay. You’ve been going through it recently,” you joke, and Jaemin licks his lips before bringing himself to laugh as well.
“Thanks for uh- putting up with me on Halloween.” He speaks as though the words were bitter on his tongue. “I’m sorry about forcing you to spend the night.”
You let out a sigh. You wanted to stop and force him to see the sincerity in your eyes as you told him that you weren’t ‘putting up with him,’ but you knew you needed to keep this moment more casual so he wouldn’t find these vulnerable bits overwhelming and consequently shut down. So instead, you just keep walking with a small shake of your head.
“You don’t have to apologize for that. You just had a panic attack - if I didn’t spend the night, I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep. I would’ve stayed up all night worried about you. It was better that I was with you.”
Jaemin lets something like a grimace cross his features as he responds with a wry laugh. “You care about me a lot,” he points out, making you look up at him by your side with raised brows.
“Of course I do. You’re my best friend,” you say seriously, and Jaemin looks down to meet your gaze, giving away the distant look in his eyes.
“Ha, fair,” he begins. “I care about you a lot, too.” As he continues, he drops his head to face his feet. “But I don’t think I’d know how to take care of you while you’re having a panic attack,” he admits regrettably, but all you can do is give a soft smile.
“I’m not expecting you to. All I ask is that you let me be there for you again if you have another one…and that you stop being so embarrassed about showing emotions,” you tack on, causing Jaemin to laugh a bit in defeat.
“Okay, angel, but only with you. I have a hot guy persona to keep up in the real world,” he says through a smile, but you shake your head.
“You’re hot, regardless,” you deadpan, and Jaemin’s face lights up as he nudges you in the side playfully.
“Well, look at that! You sweet talker. Maybe I’ll pay for your ice cream today,” he banters, and soon the two of you are in shared laughter as you elbow him back.
“Whatever. I’m 80% sure you were gonna pay for my ice cream even before that.”
“80%?” He echos, bringing a hand up to his chest as though he’s been shot. “Such little faith,” he tuts, shaking his head and making you roll your eyes playfully.
“Am I supposed to have more faith in a fuckboy than that?” You tease, and Jaemin’s face falls into a mock seriousness, holding open the door to the ice cream parlor for you as he looks at your figure with raised eyebrows.
“No, you’re supposed to have more faith in your best friend than that,” he says as you pass through the door, and you look back at him to share matching small smiles.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I have nothing but faith in you,” you reply as he, too, fully steps inside and lets the door swing closed behind him. The proximity has you looking almost directly up at him as he stares down at you in much the same manner; playful gleams in your eyes and fond smiles adorning your faces. At once, he nods his head towards the counter behind you.
“Go order, angel. It’s on me today.”
You scrunch your face up at him with a big grin. “Thanks, handsome.” Then you promptly turn around and head towards where the cashier was waiting to take your order, not even taking one chance to look back and see how red Jaemin’s face had gotten in response.
Jaemin knew it was coming, that was the funny thing. He just wasn’t expecting the disconnect between his head and his heart to be remedied all at once; but looking at you standing in line and pointing at what flavor you wanted, he had never wanted to do this with anyone else, but he really really wanted it with you, today and every day after that.
Sitting down and actually eating ice cream included the most normal of conversations between you and Jaemin. He wasn’t your best friend for nothing - the two of you could talk forever and never run out of things to say or comfort and joy to find in each other’s presence. As such, when you finished your ice cream cones and left the parlor, interaction flowed as it always had while he walked you back to your dorm…meaning the two of you looked like just best friends; close enough on the sidewalk to hear each other but far enough apart so that there was no possibility of accidentally grazing the back of each other’s hands or anything. You were hardly conscious of it, elated at the fact that you and Jaemin were so close and consistent again after the past few years, but Jaemin could practically only focus on the distance between the two of you.
You had basically just stepped foot back on actual campus when Jaemin abruptly stopped, grabbing your wrist and turning you towards him as he spoke in a rush.
“My friends are looking, kiss me,” he says in something close to a panic, and so you immediately oblige, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him firmly. You place your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you break away, catching your breath - something that Jaemin always seemed to make you lose - as you turn your head around to look at the surrounding area.
“Where are they?” You ask through a light pant, turning back to Jaemin once you checked and double checked but caught no sign of his friends.
Jaemin licks his lips hesitantly, shaking his head. “They must have left already,” he says through an exhale, and you take a deep breath, finally allowing yourself to step away from Jaemin’s body as you face the ground, trying to regain your footing from the whiplash it felt you just went through. Jaemin lets out an awkward cough before speaking up again. “We should probably hold hands all the time when we’re in public, though. I’m pretty sure Chenle’s the only suspicious one still out of the friend group, but it’d throw anyone off if we’re dating and not holding hands. And if there’s one thing I learned from the Halloween party, it’s that people don’t know we’re dating, and that should probably change so it doesn’t just look like an act put on for the friend group…or Chenle’s never gonna believe it.”
He wasn’t wrong, and you knew that - you knew that before all of this even started. Rule number three was that the act is immediately dropped in private, but that came with the other side of things being that you had to put on an act while in public, regardless of who was around to witness it.
You nod your head slowly. “Yeah, okay,” you cede, and Jaemin’s hand immediately finds yours, the warmth from the contact making you realize how chilled your bones currently were. There was no more hiding it from girls in your classes now - you were Jaemin’s girlfriend to the general public, not just to his six best friends. You needed these next two months to pass by quickly, because with the promise of Jaemin’s hand being in yours more than ever, you were sure your chances of survival just decreased dramatically.
That Friday, your date night was replaced with a night in at Jaemin’s apartment. As soon as he shot you a text saying he was home from class, you made your way over to his place. He opened the door with the bright smile he typically revealed just for you, stepping back to let you inside with a fond, “hey angel.”
You step inside with a smile and small greeting in reply. “What do you wanna do today?” You ask, turning around to face him once you realize you were aimlessly crossing the span of his apartment for no reason. Already preparing for the question, Jaemin moves his hand from behind his back to reveal a thick blu-ray case in his grip.
“Harry Potter movie marathon?” He asks with a smirk.
You look back at him with raised eyebrows and a small grin of your own. “You know I can’t say ‘no’ to Harry Potter at any point in the Fall or Winter seasons,” you reply, and Jaemin’s eyes find a new glow behind them.
“That and Gilmore Girls; though I’m much more in the mood for Harry Potter because if we started rewatching Gilmore Girls now, we’d have to get through all those episodes with that floppy-haired jerk and really, Jess is so much better,” he adds on seriously, and all you can do is laugh.
“Hey, Dean is at least better than Logan,” you respond, and Jaemin lets out an actual groan.
“Please don’t get me started on Logan…can we instead get started on Harry Potter?” He asks again, waving the disc case around invitingly and causing you to laugh some more as you walk towards the couch.
“Just waiting on you,” you answer as you plop down on the couch, making Jaemin roll his eyes playfully before turning around to set everything up on the TV. As the familiar soundtrack fills the room, Jaemin places himself next to you like normal, handing you a blanket to make the cozy night-in complete.
Two hours later, as Jaemin got up to switch out the discs from The Sorcerer’s Stone to The Chamber of Secrets, you got up for a bathroom break, and when the two of you sat back down, there was maybe an inch less space between you both than previously. Not much else changed. That is, until not even ten minutes into the second movie. You catch in your peripheral as Jaemin moves his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. You don’t think anything of it until that arm doesn’t come back down to his side, but instead wraps around the back of your shoulders.
“Is Haechan here?” You ask lightly, trying to talk over the sound of your breath hitching. Haechan’s room was closest to the bathroom, and you don’t remember any sign of life coming from nearby while you were in there, but nothing else explained this, because this was not normal between the two of you.
“No,” Jaemin answers shortly, and all you can do is swallow hesitantly as you fight for words again.
“Then why is your arm around my shoulder?” You ask, trying to make it sound as though your words were a playful tease and not a desperate question.
Jaemin looks over at you with raised eyebrows and a playful smirk. “Because what if he comes back?” He replies casually, and you try to roll your eyes in much the same manner, as though his arm around your shoulder wasn’t single-handedly making your heart rate spike. He was right, anyway - if Haechan came back, it would be weird for the two of you to be sitting any other way.
It was during Prisoner of Azkaban when Haechan inevitably walked into the apartment. Busy with locking the door behind him, he was caught off guard when locking eyes with the two of you as he turned back around. Though, all at once, his gaze softened as he looked between you, Jaemin, and the television. “Hey guys,” he says warmly, and you mentally high-five yourself not only for the fact that you and Jaemin seemed to have truly won Haechan over, but also that you had won Haechan over; the main reason this bet was even made was because Haechan couldn’t stand whatever girl it was that Jaemin had over, but here he was, excited to see you cuddled into Jaemin on the couch, and that win was not lost on you.
“Hey,” Jaemin replied with a smile. “We’re watching Harry Potter if you want to join,” he continues, but Haechan shakes his head at the extended invite as he moves to grab something from the mess that was the kitchen counter.
“Tempting, but- I’m all good. I’m about to head back out, actually. Mark and I are gonna hit a few bars and try to unwind from this bullshit week,” he says with a weak laugh. You and Jaemin flash your eyebrows in acknowledgement.
“Let me know if you need a ride back home. We’ll swing by to grab you and Mark, or- I will, at least, depending on what time it ends up being. Regardless, be safe. I enjoy having you as a roommate,” Jaemin says, his tone turning more playful with every word.
Haechan rolls his eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I won’t drink and drive. We all know I’m smarter than that,” he says, but when he makes eye contact with you and Jaemin again, he meets your wide-eyed stares of doubt, causing him to shake his head with a more hearty laugh. “You guys suck,” he says with a smile. “I’ll keep you updated throughout the night. It was nice seeing you, y/n,” he continues seriously, beginning to fiddle with the front door lock on his exit.
“You, too,” you reply genuinely, and with one more nod and wave goodbye, he was out the door. It wasn’t even five seconds later when Jaemin’s arm detaches itself from your shoulder, instead finding comfort at his side again. He didn’t pay any mind to it, his attention pinned solely on the movie. You do your best to not show any physical reaction to the absence of his touch, especially when you were the one giving him a hard time for it in the first place. You’re almost shocked by how well Jaemin is able to turn it on and off, though you figure the real problem was how poorly you were able to do the same. Jaemin was just doing his part, exactly as he said he would.
Your heart had to stop looking for hidden meaning to every touch, every “angel,” because he was your best friend and crush, but you were his best friend and fake-girlfriend. Unbeknownst to you, Jaemin ran through the same spiel in reverse inside his own head, figuring if he kept his arm around you now with the promise of Haechan being gone, you would surely catch onto the fact that he craved your touch more than typical of best friends - which was exactly what you both were going back to at the start of the new year.
It was the first Tuesday after you and Jaemin agreed to ramp up your public dating facade, and you were already the center of attention as you walked into class at 11:00. You tell yourself no one’s gaze locked onto you as you opened the door for class - that you were making it up; but at least some percent of that story was false, because as you sit in your chair and start pulling out your notebook for class, your name gets called from the seat diagonal to you. “Y/n, rumor has it that you and Jaemin are actually dating,” this girl, Hana, says. You knew she was looking for a response, so you don’t give her one, instead focusing on your pen mindlessly rolling between your fingers.
“You? With a guy like him?” She continues, adding more bite and disbelief to each word. You keep your gaze focused in front of you, jaw tightening as you try to hide more robust reactions. That is, until she continues. “You can’t be that good in bed.” Your fist clenches as you whip your head towards her; furrowed, taunting eyebrows matching the fire in her eyes and the smirk on her lips, the rest of her friend group snickering behind her. You have the patience for none of it - you were not going to sit here and take this.
“Actually,” you begin, your kind tone dripping in sarcasm. “I know this is something you don’t have experience with, so bear with me, but Jaemin genuinely likes me as a person and so I didn’t have to win him over with just my skills in bed. Yeah! He actually wants to hold my hand and tell me pretty things and I’m just so sorry that he never had the desire to do any of that with the likes of you!” You give her one last look before shrugging a bit, even your fake smile completely ridden from your face. “Actually, I’m not sorry at all.”
Hana looks mortified, her friend group in the surrounding desks all watching the exchange now with wide eyes. You don’t even think any of them saw it coming when Hana got up from her seat and lunged towards you, swinging at your face. “You bitch!” She yells at you, her fist making contact with the area around your eye. You wince slightly but you refused to give her the satisfaction of a bigger reaction - you’d leave that for when you were alone. You move your hand up to touch the area, making sure none of her rings caught your skin and drew blood, but when your fingers came back clean, you just move your gaze back to her in disinterest.
“Are you done now?” You ask monotonously. You catch her fist clench again in your peripheral and prepare yourself for another hit because seemingly none of the other students were concerned with stopping the exchange. However, your professor finally walks in before Hana can even get another word out, and instead she’s told to take her seat as you swing back to face the front of the room in your own chair. The throbbing that half of your face was currently experiencing would have to wait an hour and twenty minutes to be addressed, you weren’t letting her win.
Thankfully, that was your last of two classes for the day, so you were able to head back to your dorm directly after. You throw your backpack down in the entryway and immediately head for your bathroom to assess the damages. “Fuck,” you whisper under your breath. The hour and a half was enough time for a proper bruise to start forming, and it wasn’t necessarily the prettiest of black eyes. You move a hand up to touch the area again, this time just the light pressure already putting you in horrid pain. With a defeated groan, you leave the bathroom and dig through your freezer for an ice pack to hold up to the area instead.
Settling yourself down on the couch, you decide the last thing you need is for Jaemin to see you like this. With a sigh, you open your phone and pull up your texts with him. Hey, just a heads up, I don’t have a lot of time to hang this week or make it to friend group lunches.
Jaemin’s reply is almost instantaneous. Is everything okay?
You frown at the message. You hated lying to your best friend, but explaining what was up would defeat the whole purpose of saying you couldn’t hang out anyways. Yep! You reply instead, thankful when Jaemin didn’t press any further. You’d give yourself a week to heal, and then you were sure makeup would be able to cover what little would be left of the bruising by then.
Those plans didn’t even last twenty-four hours. There was a knock on your door after classes on Wednesday and you figured it was your RA here to remind you not to leave your windows open while out at class with the chances of snow ever increasing. Though, when you lazily throw your door open, it’s your best friend on the other side. Your eyes go wide and you immediately move a hand up to cover the left half of your face where your black eye was still very much at its peak. “Jaemin, what are you doing here?!” You ask in a rush, but he doesn’t match your demeanor at all.
Instead, he shrugs, a light smile painting his lips. “I missed you, angel-” He answers as he brings a hand up to your wrist and gently guides your own hand down away from your face…and that’s when his energy completely flips, eyes going wide as he rushes to place a hand on your cheek and assess the damage himself. “Oh my god, what happened to you?!” He asks in a panic. You shake your head adamantly, trying to move his hand away from your face as you reply with a serious bite.
“Nothing, it’s fine,” you reply dismissively, and Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow as he scans your entire face.
“Is this why you said you couldn’t hang out?” He asks, almost mad if you had to put an emotion on it.
You shake your head, dropping your gaze to face the floor. “Jaem, don’t worry about it-” You start indifferently, but he cuts you off with enough emotion for the both of you.
“What happened?” He questions again, this time his tone much firmer than any of his previous questions. His gaze bore into you, and you knew there wasn’t any getting out of this. You let out an annoyed sigh, shrugging like it was nothing as you go to reply.
“This girl in my class found out we were dating, and apparently that pissed her off because she didn’t think I deserved you or I was taking her spot and all that. And I snapped back so she punched me,” you finally answer, and Jaemin’s body language immediately softens as he looks over you once more with a frown and wide eyes.
“Y/n…” You don’t want to deal with his sorry tone. Instead, you move to meet his gaze again as you shake your head, the frustrated tears in your eyes rather revealing themself in your fractured tone.
“Please just sleep with her, Jaem. Tell her we broke up or something and then sleep with her. Or pretend you’re cheating on me with her…she’d love that, and no one would believe her if she said so, so we keep our cover,” you suggest in a rush, and Jaemin looks at you as though you just committed murder.
“No. Absolutely not,” he replies instantly.
“Jaem-” You start through a defeated exhale, but hearing you out was currently the last thing on Jaemin’s mind.
“I’m not fucking sleeping with someone who hurt you,” he states with force, and you don’t know why this is such a big deal to him, not when the solution was this simple.
“I would just rather have her satisfied and dealt with,” you respond hollowly, and Jaemin actually lets out a laugh.
“Oh, I’ll be sure to deal with her, don’t worry.” His angry promise makes you sigh, and all you can do is respond in defeat.
“Jaem-” You begin, and you’re not given any time to decide how you want to continue as he cuts you off. Passion still courses through Jaemin’s body as he shakes his head, taking a break from clenching his jaw to speak again.
“She should know better than to lay a hand on my girl,” he argues, and now you absolutely know you need to get him to calm down.
“I’m not really your girl,” you state plainly, and if you weren’t already feeling deflated, you sure did now as you admitted that. Jaemin seems to react to your statement in much the same way, his features softening for a moment as he looked at you again, bringing a hand up to run through his hair in frustration; though this time, the frustration was aimed towards himself.
“I- I know. I’m sorry, I never should have asked you to do this for me. I was so selfish, goddammit,” he rambles under his breath absentmindedly as he begins to pace back and forth. You shake your head softly, reaching out to catch Jaemin’s wrist and force his movements to still.
“It’s fine, handsome,” you state firmly, and you watch as a million emotions run over Jaemin’s face, him just sucking on his bottom lip in hesitation. The hand that was previously caught in your grip comes up to cup your cheek again, his thumb lightly grazing your bruise as he studies you with a sad look on his face.
“No, angel,” he begins with a sigh. “It’s really not.”
You falter under his soft gaze and sure words, shaking your head as you fumble for words of your own. “It will be fine, then. Just let me lay low for a bit. I probably won’t be at lunch on Friday…I don’t necessarily need your friends seeing me beat up like this,” you try and laugh off.
Jaemin looks at you quizzically. “They wouldn’t-” He begins, but you cut him off with pleading eyes.
“Jaem, please,” you counter, and he just nods his head solemnly.
“Okay.” He lets out a breath before darting his gaze around from you to the rest of the living area, locking eyes with your backpack and giving him a reason to stay in your presence for a bit longer. “Can we do homework together?” He asks, and you lightly sigh as you nod your head, guiding his hand down from your cheek so you could instead head towards the couch and set everything up on the coffee table for the two of you.
Your main distraction from homework came in the form of whatever was on the television. Jaemin’s main distraction came in the form of you; he could hardly finish one part of an assignment without turning his head to look over at you, chewing on his bottom lip as he studied you softly, then whipping his gaze back to his laptop before you could ever feel his eyes on you. It was the least productive he's ever been.
Friday was the next time you saw Jaemin, when he came over as per usual for your ‘date nights.’ However, with you missing the friend group lunch for the second time this week, he immediately greeted you with a related request. “Hey, the guys miss you. They wanted to know if you were down for a movie night tomorrow,” he says casually as he closes the door behind him.
You turn to face him with a straight face. “Jaem, my black eye isn’t going to be-” You watch as Jaemin rolls his lips inward and dodges your eye contact, and all you can do is let out a heavy sigh. “You told them, didn’t you?” You ask instead, and Jaemin’s hidden lips reappear to form a weak don’t-be-mad grin. That is, until he meets your eyes again and lets out his own sigh, shrugging his shoulders as he resets his facial expression to something more casual again.
“They wanted to know where you were,” he says in defense. You watch as the memory of lunch replays behind his eyes and he tilts his head slightly as he looks at you with an anticipatory cringe in how you were going to respond as he continues. “…and now they’re all pissed and want to be there to make you feel better, too,” he finishes with a dorky smile, as though his full set of teeth would fix everything. Unfortunately, he was right about that, and all you can manage is a huff of laughter as you shake your head.
“Oh my. Sure, we can have a movie night,” you give in with a smile, and Jaemin lights up before pulling out his phone to text the group that the plans for tomorrow are a go. Then, your Friday night with Jaemin consisted of a large pizza, red wine, and board games.
That Saturday night, Jaemin came to pick you up and take you back to his apartment where the movie night was being held, insisting that Haechan could hold down fort as he came to pick you up…and that no boyfriend would let his girlfriend drive herself over to his place when he had a perfectly good truck and an excuse to kiss you under the porch light before joining all the guys; you told him he was an idiot, but he met that with a kiss on your cheek, claiming that you were the idiot for not taking a free kiss under the porch light with the Na Jaemin…a low blow considering the reason behind your bruising eye.
When you step inside his apartment, the rest of the guys silence mid-conversation, instead turning all of their attention to you. Their shoulders drop as your black eye comes into the light. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you turn into Jaemin’s chest, and he wraps his arms around you lightly with a warm laugh, kissing the top of your head before turning his attention to his friends. “I’m pretty sure you guys promised me you would be chill about this if she came over,” he states playfully, causing the rest of them to drop their heads with a small laugh of their own.
“Our fault for caring about her,” Jeno banters back, and all you can do is sigh and pull away from Jaemin’s chest, facing the rest of the group again. He was right, not about it being their fault, but for the fact that their frowns just meant they cared about you, and it wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same way towards them - you’d frown, too if one of them walked in battered and bruised.
You roll your eyes playfully with a mellow shake of your head. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” you assure, turning your gaze to Jaemin before tossing your head side to side with a small smirk. “Besides, I’d say Jaem’s worth a punch or two.” The guys in front of you laugh but Jaemin furrows his brows.
“Or two?” He echoes worriedly, making you turn to him again with a soft, sure gaze.
“One,” you promise him and watch as a bit of relief washes over his figure, nodding his head as he takes it in.
“Um, you guys wanna watch Transformers?” Jisung speaks up awkwardly, shattering whatever tension you and Jaemin just created and instead making everyone chuckle.
Mark whips his head over to Jisung. “I thought we were watching Spider-Man…?” He adds sulkily. Jisung’s jaw drops, because apparently he had been looking forward to a Transformers marathon nonstop since the plans were made; but Chenle cuts off any chance of a response from him, instead just shaking his head rapidly.
“It doesn’t matter. Just choose anything before they take the pause in activity to make out,” he says as though he were horrified by the possibility, and Renjun lets out a sure laugh as he places a hand on Chenle’s shoulder.
“Still traumatized by the pda you asked for at that first lunch?” He asks, and Chenle looks at him with wide eyes.
“Can you blame me? So, they’re in a relationship…that’s great. Slightly cringe, but whatever. You know what’s not cringe? Spider-Man.”
“The Transformers!” Jisung corrects adamantly, getting everyone to laugh again.
“Sure, the Transformers,” Chenle agrees automatically, and Haechan rolls his eyes with a soft smile as he moves to set up the TV.
The eight of you got situated before another beat could pass. Mark on the recliner, Chenle and Jisung on the small couch, and then you, Jaemin, Jeno, Haechan, and Renjun taking up the big couch in the middle of the room. You cuddled easily into Jaemin as he threw an arm around your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on the side of your arm.
For the group of you typically being a mess of chaos when you were all together, the eight of you somehow all followed the same unspoken rules when it came to movie night. There was no talking and, surprisingly, no one distracted by their phone. However, the peace of the perfect movie night was broken maybe twenty minutes into the first movie, when a chill ran through your body and the resulting shiver didn’t go unnoticed. “Do you want a blanket, y/n?” Mark asks softly. All at once, the guys whipped their heads towards him, furrowed brows adding to their glares at his disruption. That is, until it registers for them what Mark just asked, and all their gazes soften as they draw their attention to you in wait for your answer, Haechan pausing the movie entirely.
You let out a laugh under your breath, shaking your head at Mark with a grateful smile. “No, I’m okay,” you say quickly, trying to get everyone’s focus back on the movie because one shiver was not enough reason for concern. The guys all flash their eyebrows at your answer, immediately accepting it as they turn their attention back to the movie.
It isn’t long though before you shiver again, and while your attempt to cover it up was stellar, it wasn’t enough to get past the man holding you in his arms. Jaemin leans down so his lips are by your ear. “Go put on one of my hoodies,” he whispers slowly.
You shake your head minimally in response, eyes still trained on the Transformers. “I’m okay-” Your whispered words are cut off when the movie pauses, and you whip your head over to face Jaemin now, remote in hand and raised brows as he stares back at you seriously. A chorus of complaints erupt from the rest of the guys but Jaemin is only focused on you, and you can’t do anything but let out a light sigh. “Are you sure?” You ask, and Jaemin’s brows go from raised to furrowed.
“Am I sure? Of course I’m sure. You’re my girlfriend. Please go dig through my closet and wear my clothes,” he replies firmly, nodding his head now in the direction of his bedroom. You dodge any further eye contact with him as you instead slip out of his arms and towards his room. You don’t spend too much time in there, more than aware that they were all still waiting on you before unpausing the movie. You throw on the first hoodie you see, trying to ignore how much it smelled like him - how comforting it was to be wrapped in that scent.
You put on a straight face as you walk back out to the living room, though you begin to think it was unnecessary considering their reactions, or- Jaemin’s, at least. He immediately broke from the idle chatter he was having with Jeno as he instead locked his gaze on you, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. You fall shy under his gaze, looking around at the rest of the guys to see if you missed something before accepting the fact that it was just Jaemin who had the answers. “What?” You ask hesitantly, and it forces Jaemin to snap back to reality and collect himself.
He lets out something of a defeated laugh, shaking his head as he concludes his look up and down your body. “You should’ve been swimming in my hoodies for the past two months already,” he answers seriously, and suddenly your cheeks are on fire. You hide your face in your hands and the rest of the guys let fond grins paint their face at the interaction between the two of you. That was the first time it truly hit all of them that they were each about to lose $100 soon. Though it was hard for them to even be mad about it, because in everyone’s eyes but your own, Jaemin was whipped, and that was all they ever wanted for their best friend.
The group got through three movies before everyone started fading, eyelids feeling heavier by the minute. Renjun was the one to turn the lamp on at the side table beside him, putting everyone on the same page as they all got up from their seats and started getting ready to leave. Chenle is the first to say his goodbyes and head for the door, but as he places his hand on the knob, he whips back around. “Oh, wait!” He starts, louder than any of you were prepared for as you stare back at him in question. He shakes his head, the volume of his voice apparently even getting to him, but then he looks back at you all seriously. “I’m having my big New Year’s Eve party again. You’re all invited, obviously. I don’t know anyone’s plans after finals week, so I figured I’d just tell you now before we’re all in different places - if you wind up back at NCIT by December 31st, I’d love to have you, and if you wind up back at NCIT even earlier than that, please please please please please-”
“Chenle,” you all cut him off in unison, and he gives an awkward laugh.
“Please consider helping set up,” he says flusteredly. You all let out fond chuckles as you nod your head at the boy, and he lets a wide smile grace his features before finally opening the door and leaving with a soft ‘thank you.’
Dropping you off at your dorm, Jaemin fumbles for words before you can even open the door back to your place, and you turn around to pin all your attention on him instead as he speaks up awkwardly. “Uh- about Chenle’s party…”
“Yes, I’ll go. We said that would be our last day together so we might as well be…together,” you say, and Jaemin nods his head slowly.
“Okay; and for next weekend…?” He leaves the question at that and that’s when you realize you truly hadn’t given him much to plan with yet. You shake your head with a small laugh.
“We’ll leave Saturday morning for my parents’ house. I have finals up until Friday anyways. The big dinner you have to be there for is Saturday night, so you can do whatever you would like with your break after that.”
Jaemin processes the information with a distant expression before pulling it into a smile. “Alright, angel. Good luck with finals next week. I’ll be ready to go Saturday morning,” he says happily, and all you can do is match his smile.
“Good luck on your finals, too-” You start, but as you move to wrap him in one last hug, you catch sight of the hoodie covering your arms and jump back. “Oh! I’m still wearing your hoodie. Sorry-” You speak in a rush as you work to try and slip out of it, but Jaemin shakes his head.
“Don’t worry. Keep it,” he responds seriously, making you whip your head up at him and causing him to laugh. “It would be really suspicious if I came back home with the hoodie that I just said you looked cute in, and I’m not taking any chances with us so close to the three month mark now. Just don’t lose it…it’s my favorite hoodie.”
You let out a flustered laugh. “Well, are you sure you don’t want it back, then? Haechan is probably asleep already-” You reason as you start pulling one arm out of the hoodie again.
“Just keep it,” he cuts you off with a warm chuckle before continuing more somberly. “Our three months are almost up. I’ll get it back in no time.” If the words were bitter on his tongue, you didn’t notice. You were too preoccupied trying to neutralize your own emotions at the notion of this all ending soon.
You’re scared your voice would betray you if you opened your mouth again to speak, so instead you just nod your head, finally wrapping him in that goodbye hug and then turning to let yourself into your dorm.
Finals week somehow went by in a flash, and you’re scared to add up how many hours of it you spent in Jaemin’s hoodie. Though, the atypical schedule meant that you didn’t really have to worry about that - you only ever ran into Jaemin on campus for friend group lunches, and those were canceled this week since half of you would be in the middle of finals during the usual span of time; so, Jaemin never had to find out that you were practically living in the very same hoodie you had tried so hard to give back originally.
Come Saturday morning, that hoodie was packed with all of your other clothes in your suitcase, currently in the trunk of your car as you drive over to pick Jaemin up before heading to your house. He places his luggage next to yours before opening the passenger door and sliding in. “Hey, angel! Ready to pull all this off for your parents, too?” He asks with a devious smirk. You roll your eyes, trying to buy into the playfulness to forget about the dread filling your system at the idea of heading back home right now.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Thank you again for agreeing to this,” you say seriously, and Jaemin looks at you as though you were crazy.
“Of course I’d agree to do this. Do you realize how much you’re doing for me?” He banters back, effectively getting you to laugh a bit as the tension in your shoulders drops. “Besides,” he continues more thoughtfully. “It’ll be nice to see our hometown again.” His words are much more mellow this time, and you look over at him with a sad grimace before shifting into drive and actually getting out on the road.
As soon as Jaemin went to college, his family moved to Jeju Island, and for as often as the two of you talked about traveling there one day, it was much less exciting of an idea when it was already Jaemin’s home base and it’d just be you traveling to visit him. Even outside of that, you knew he missed the city - moving away from everything you know is only nice if it’s your choice, and moving to Jeju was definitely not his choice.
It’s not like his relationship with his parents was impacted, though. He understood, and was very appreciative of the fact that they held out on the move until he graduated high school. Truly, if they were wanting to move, this was the time to do it. He’d graduate college and get his own place wherever he wanted; it’s just that now his place to go back to was Jeju rather than Seoul.
On the other hand, your family stayed put in the same house from childhood, but your relationship had gone through rough waters since you started college; something not even Jaemin knew, and now you were wondering how oblivious you could keep him of your current home-situation.
The verdict was ‘not very long.’ As soon as the two of you walked in your front door, your parents seemed shocked to be laying eyes on Jaemin with you. You push past them and towards your bedroom to put your stuff down, sending just a meek ‘hi’ their way. Jaemin watched you disappear with ample confusion, but his face quickly straightened up into a smile as he greeted your parents with hugs and gratitude for having him over.
Your mom pulls back from the hug with a look of disbelief, shaking her head solemnly. “Jaemin, it’s wonderful to see you. I apologize for not having a space set up for you to stay. To be honest, when y/n said she was bringing a guest home, the last thing we were expecting was for it to be a guy,” she laughs off, and Jaemin’s eyebrows immediately furrow. Your own muscles tighten as you move to close your bedroom door, deciding that was already enough for you to hear.
“Why?” Jaemin asks in return, trying to match the laugh from your mom, though his was half-hearted at best.
Your mom shrugs it off like it’s nothing new. “Well, you know our y/n…doesn't exactly have a lot going for her-”
“Y/n’s gorgeous, actually,” Jaemin cuts off with force, now taking a full step back from your mom and causing her hand to drop from where it was still at his forearm. “And sure, she has her guard up most of the time but that doesn’t change the fact that once she’s comfortable enough to be herself, she’s incredibly easy to love,” he continues, brows furrowed as he makes sure to get his point across.
Your mom passes her gaze from Jaemin to her husband, taking a moment to exchange strange smiles with him before turning back to Jaemin. “Sorry, I seem to have offended you. I didn’t know you cared about my daughter that much.” She speaks every word as though she’s only half serious, and all it does is frustrate Jaemin even more.
“Of course I care about her but that’s not even the point. You shouldn’t be saying that about your child and you used to know that, cause you never said anything like that when we were growing up. So, I don’t know what changed but I can tell you it wasn’t the worth of your daughter.” Setting all your stuff down, you open your bedroom door enough to catch his last sentence and immediately let out a heavy sigh, knowing you had to go out there and do something.
“Jaem?” You start, walking back out from the hallway. His face instantly changes from disgust to warmth as he snaps his head in your direction.
“Yeah, angel?”
You nod your head back towards where you just came from. “My room is still the same one it’s always been. Since we’re apparently bunking together, if you want to go put your stuff in there so you’re not carrying it around throughout the house, you know where to go,” you say casually, trying to make it seem as though the sleeping arrangements were all you caught of his conversation with your mom.
Jaemin nods with a tight smile. “Alright, I’ll be back in a second,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as he passes you in his walk to your room and you take his place with your parents in the living room. You and your mom both watch as your dad looks between the two of you before immediately leaving to go outside, shaking his head as he does so and leaving just you, your mom, and the suffocating tension in the room.
You drop your head to face the floor and your mom is the first one to speak. “I didn’t know he liked you,” she says plainly, eyes darting towards the room Jaemin was currently in before landing on you again, your head now whipped up to face her with raised brows.
“Didn’t know he liked me or didn’t think I was capable of having him like me?” You ask in return, and your mom falters for a moment.
“Y/n…” She starts, but you shake your head.
“Am I good enough now? Is this enough for you? That I brought an attractive guy home who cares about me? Are you even the tiniest bit proud of me now?” The fire in your eyes soon matches that of your mother’s, her disproving gaze that you knew so well baring into you.
“Y/n, that’s not fair and you know that,” she counters, her voice raising with every word.
Your jaw drops as you look at her in disbelief. “What’s not fair is you judging me by the man I do or do not have to hold my hand at any given time.” You’re thankful when the words come out firm; you’ve never stood up to her like this, and when your mom studies you with intensity, it’s as though she doesn’t know the woman in front of her this time.
“Well,” she breathes out, bringing her gaze back to your own. “Being with him has apparently given you some confidence…or a voice, at least.” Her tone borders between indifference and slight disgust, and all you can do is shake your head, unsure of how your relationship with your mom ever turned into this.
“I refuse to believe that you find an issue in the fact that he makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world,” you say in almost a plea for her to tell you it’s not true, but she never does; instead, it’s just Jaemin’s breath hitching in the hallway that he tries to cover up so you wouldn’t know he was listening. When neither you nor your mom turn your heads towards him, he realizes he was still under the radar. So, he prepares himself to walk back into the living room as though he just got done putting everything away in yours.
When he gets back by your side, he lightly kisses your temple, turning to face your mom as he sneaks a hand to rest on the small of your back; your mom stares at the physical contact and you think her eye actually twitches. Jaemin opens his mouth to start casual conversation back up but your mom cuts him off before he can even begin. “Your father and I are going out for the day. We will be back to cook dinner,” she states, and your eyebrows furrow immediately.
“You haven’t seen Jaemin in years and you’re just gonna leave right when he gets here?” You ask in shock, and your mom glares back at you.
“Dinner,” she replies sharply, and then she’s out the door.
Jaemin’s hand on your back begins to rub lightly up and down, and as you turn to bury your face in his chest, he wraps you in a full hug. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, and Jaemin shakes his head. With one hand, he lightly guides your chin up so that you make eye contact with him, a soft smile on his face as he looks down at you.
“Nothing to be sorry for, angel. It’s all okay. How about we just watch TV or something, go outside maybe…what’s gonna destress you?” He asks, his hand that was underneath your chin maneuvering to instead caress your cheek.
You shrug, doing your best to dodge eye contact as you reply. “Anything in your presence,” you say seriously, missing the way warmth just reached every corner of Jaemin’s being at your words.
“Okay,” he responds surely, and that’s how you found yourself walking the streets of your hometown, hand-in-hand with Na Jaemin. You visited his old house, the old playground, anywhere you could before the cold air finally caught up to you and you had to retreat back inside for some hot chocolate and more Harry Potter from your last unfinished rewatch session.
Jaemin never brought up the obvious tension between you and your mom, something you were thankful for, but it also left you feeling guilty because you knew it was on his mind - the equation of where things went wrong between you and your mom after he left Seoul was continuously being worked out behind his eyes. When you explained this part of the fake-dating contract, he wasn’t expecting for your parents to actually be on your ass about not dating anyone, but stepping into this house was like a minefield, and any conversation around the topic turned into an explosion.
He wasn’t gonna make you talk about it though, you obviously weren’t ready to. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around you as best he could, making sure you and your cocoa were always kept warm throughout the duration of your latest movie marathon.
Surprising you, when it was finally dinnertime, the atmosphere was lighter by the tiniest bit. Your parents were engaging with Jaemin, at least, and the presence of other long-time family friends put you at ease, too, because you knew a big fiasco is the last thing your parents would allow to happen in front of others.
“Are you staying with us all of break?” Your mom asks as she puts her fork down and places all of her attention on Jaemin. He gives a sorry grin in return as he shakes his head.
“No,” he begins, and your face immediately drops, forcing you to take another bite so it’s less noticeable. “I was thinking I would surprise my parents. I haven’t seen them since the summer, and I figure that means it’s time to fly out and see them again,” he continues with a light laugh. “Though, when y/n asked me to come back with her for this dinner, I- well,” he drags off, taking a moment to turn and face you at his side, a fond smirk on his lips before he turns his head back to face his lap before you can notice. “I realize I’ve gotten incredibly bad at saying ‘no’ to her,” he finishes, his own light chuckle following his words.
Gazes soften all around the table as they listen to Jaemin, but you can’t bring your head up to look at him, sure the look in your eyes would give away how desperately you were wishing for those words to be real.
Your dad is the one to pick up the conversation again. “Well, we’ll be sad to see you go so soon, but it’s sure been a pleasure having you fill our house again,” he says with a tight nod that Jaemin reflects back to him, slightly softer in his perfect Jaemin way.
That night, you and Jaemin went to bed before the rest of the adults did, but they had the advantage of alcohol to keep them occupied, and while that option was technically open to you and Jaemin, you both decided it would probably be best to stay under the label of ‘innocent youth’ with your parents and family friends.
You walk back into your bedroom after washing your face and putting on pajamas to see Jaemin already laying down. You trace his outline underneath the covers and sigh when you realize how little room was left in your full size bed. You slip under the covers and begin to turn on your side so you could take up the smallest space possible, but Jaemin evidently has other plans as he reaches over and pulls you so that you’re laying against his chest. “What are you doing?” You ask, propping your head up on his chest as you stare at him in confusion.
He looks back at you as though there were no need for the question, his smirk playing lazily against his lips. “If you’re going to end up on top of me anyways, I’d rather just hold you there,” he replies, and all at once you’re vividly reminded of Halloween night. You don’t argue back, instead just rolling your eyes and resting your head back against his chest as you try to hide most of the blush on your cheeks.
Jaemin idly draws shapes on your back as he watches you fall asleep on him. He swallows awkwardly, remembering what your mother said about you…what you said to your mother, and a kind of frustration fills his chest. He listens for any signal that you were still awake, and when he finds none, he presses the lightest kiss to the top of your head. “You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he whispers. His mortification comes when he feels you tense under his hold.
“You don’t have to pretend when it’s just us, you know,” you whisper back, and his heart breaks in his chest. His tone is firm as he replies, because if you were going to be awake to hear him say that, he might as well get his point across.
“Some stuff I never had to pretend for. Some stuff is just a fact.”
You let out a heavy sigh, flipping which way your head was facing on his chest before speaking softly. “Go to bed, Jaemin,” you say, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the feeling of defeat that arose knowing you don’t believe him. He thinks about saying more but he figures now is not the time for it…that in your friendship, it may not ever be the time for it. So, he lets out his own light sigh, his grip around you going slightly tighter as he gets to work on actually falling asleep.
The next day, all you really had time for was breakfast before you had to drive Jaemin to the airport. As you pull up to the curb for departures, Jaemin doesn’t even think twice before leaning over the center console to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for dropping me off,” he says sincerely amidst the rustling of him gathering his bags from various spaces of your car. You laugh as you open your own door, sliding around to the back of your car to pop the trunk and grab his suitcase.
“I’m coming inside with you, you know?” You tease lightly, missing the way Jaemin’s eyes soften at the care before he quickly vetoes your carrying of his luggage and rips his suitcase from your grip, causing you to laugh some more as you turn to face him now at your side. “But, of course, it was no problem,” you say genuinely, stepping inside the airport with him and too quickly facing the security checkpoint where you’d finally have to split. “Have a safe flight,” you continue, and with each word he’s now taking a step further than you dare to. “Tell your family I said ‘hi.’”
Jaemin looks over his shoulder to smile back at you. “I will,” he promises firmly with a matching nod, and you throw a grin and final wave his way as he turns back to actually face where he was walking towards the entrance for security. As soon as you’re out of his line of sight, you allow your face to drop slightly alongside your gaze, letting out a light sigh at the feeling of him walking away from you. However, your attention is caught by the increasingly loud sound of heavy footsteps. You shift your gaze back in front of you to see Jaemin had changed his path and was instead heading straight for you again.
“Jaemin-?” You question, but you’re cut off the second he gets close to you because he wastes no time in dropping his bags, cupping your cheek with his hand, and pressing a sure kiss to your lips. You melted right into it, something you would have to kick yourself for later, but at the present moment, all you could think about was his soft lips still lingering against yours.
“I’ll see you in a week, okay?” He says in a near-whisper. His words weren’t so much a statement as they were a reassurance, like he needed you to know that all you had to bear without him was a single week, like he intended to never leave you again once he came back. All you can do is swallow awkwardly, nodding as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Yeah.”
Jaemin’s gaze roamed over your entire figure as best it could with the two of you still in close proximity. You wanted to press up on your tiptoes and kiss him again for the hell of it, or maybe for the comfort of it, but Jaemin is the one to take action first, simply running his thumb gently across your cheek with a small smile before immediately turning to grab his bags and actually make his way through the security checkpoint. All you can do is stand and watch helplessly as he walks away from you. You’d see him in a week, sure, but then it’d be New Years before you knew it and all of this would slip right out of your hands…it practically already had.
You were back at NCIT before Christmas, trading in family-time for time with Chenle, who was the only other one of your friends on campus for most of that duration. He tried to pretend that he needed to meet up with you to talk about plans for his New Year’s Eve party, but most of it was just excuses to hang out when he got lonely. One by one, the guys all made their way back to NCIT, Jaemin being the last to do so, coming in on the evening flight December 26th.
You had brought Chenle with you to go pick him up, mainly because Chenle begged you to let him tag along. The two of you stood at the baggage claim for maybe fifteen minutes, Jaemin’s hoodie adorning your figure and providing you with comfort amidst Chenle’s constant nagging that you guys should have brought a sign saying that Jaemin was coming back from prison or something else more embarrassing.
The baggage claim carousel had already begun spinning for Jaemin’s flight, and eventually even Chenle stops talking to instead join you in a frown as the two of you search for Jaemin. The verdict was that he must have just been the last person off the plane, because around five minutes later, you catch sight of his figure. “There he is- what’s he doing?” You ask confused as you look at Jaemin speed in your direction.
“Running towards you,” Chenle answers as if it were the most casual occurrence ever. He tosses his gaze over to you with raised eyebrows before continuing. “And I think you should probably start running towards him unless you’re prepared to catch his weight, cause I’m pretty sure he’s ready to jump on you.”
Your eyes go wide at his words as you shake your head. “God, having a lunatic boyfriend is a lot of work,” you respond, feigning exhaustion. Chenle throws his arms up in defense.
“Hey, you chose him, not me,” he quips, making you smile before realizing you really had to start on your run towards him, because of all the things you were prepared for, catching Jaemin’s weight was not one of them.
You take off from where you and Chenle were standing, running up and meeting Jaemin somewhere in the middle as he lets go of his carry-on and puts his arms out for you. “Jaem!” You exclaim, jumping into his arms and wrapping around him like a koala.
“Angel!” He replies just as enthusiastically; hugging you tightly and spinning around once with the momentum.
“Chenle’s here so you have to kiss me,” you whisper in a rush, cupping his cheek with your hand as Jaemin steadies himself again.
He lets out a genuine laugh, catching your gaze with the brightest of smiles in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t gonna run all this way towards you for nothing,” he says surely. Then he presses his lips to yours, and the resulting warmth in your body should’ve made the snow outside impossible.
Jaemin breaks away from you when he feels a tug on his shirt sleeve, and the two of you turn to make eye contact with Chenle. “You’re being cringe now, can you please take me home?” He asks plainly, making you and Jaemin laugh as he puts you down on the solid ground again, slipping his hand in yours as the next best option. Then, after making sure Jaemin had all of his things, the three of you were on the road back to NCIT.
The next day, Jaemin and the guys went out for lunch, one you weren’t invited to because it was one you “couldn’t know about.” Sitting around the table in a perfect reflection of the start of the semester, the guys around Jaemin all wore a mixture of looks on their faces, ranging from impressed to sulky…though that last one was only Chenle, who despite having the most money in the group, hated giving it out.
Mark is the one to finally address the reason they were all there. “Well, you did it. I’m sure we don’t need to be the ones to tell you that you’ve been dating y/n for three whole months now,” he says with a light laugh. Jaemin can’t bring himself to join in on the smiles and playfulness around the table.
“I can’t believe it’s been three months already,” he says hollowly, but both his tone and the distant look in his eyes go unnoticed by his friends, their tunnel vision on their childish bet covering over Jaemin’s anguish at winning.
“Here’s your $600,” Haechan says after having collected everyone’s shares from around the table. “Can't wait to have a new PS5 in our apartment,” he quips, but Jaemin whips his head up at him, grabbing the $600 from his hands defensively.
“I’m not spending it on a PS5…” He begins, dragging off as the fire dies from his tone and he returns to a contemplative state of being. “I’m gonna buy y/n something nice.”
Gasps are heard from quite literally everyone else at the table, all of them looking at Jaemin with wide eyes. “Really?” Jeno asks in disbelief, and Jaemin makes passing eye contact with all of his friends, giving them all odd looks for being so caught off guard.
“Yes, really. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I don’t know how to give her the world, but I can at least get her the best that $600 will buy,” he explains surely, and the rest of the guys all exchange glances with each other before turning back to him, Renjun being the one to take a jab this time through a hesitant laugh.
“Are we still talking to Na Jaemin?” He asks, making the rest of the guys laugh as well. Jaemin just lets out a sigh, finally able to find a bit of humor as well as he shakes his head, tucking the money away and turning the afternoon into a regular lunch hang out.
Two days later, you get a call from Jaemin sometime after dinner.
“Angel?” He says softly once you pick up, his tone making you smile on the other end.
“Yeah, handsome?” You respond warmly.
“Wanna go on a drive?” Jaemin asks, giving away no hints as to his current state of emotions, and your eyebrows furrow as you pry more.
“No destination?” You ask, and Jaemin shakes his head, not that you were able to see it anyways. His response is sharp.
“No.”
“Everything okay?” You question, the warmth in your tone turning into concern.
“Yeah,” Jaemin responds immediately. You let a beat pass in silence and it’s enough for Jaemin to want to fill it again on his own. “Just want some more time with you,” he explains shyly, and you let out a small breath of laughter as you oblige.
“Let me get my shoes on.”
“I’ll be there to pick you up in five,” he replies firmly before immediately hanging up.
True to his word, it only took five minutes before you’re opening the door to Jaemin. “Hey,” he says as soon as you make eye contact, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek.
“Hey,” you reply, your face hurting as you try not to smile too widely at his actions. Jaemin wouldn’t have noticed if you did, though, because he immediately turns to face the floor sheepishly.
“Sorry if you were in the middle of something,” he finally says, making you furrow your brows at him - this wasn’t a Jaemin you were used to.
“Nothing that couldn’t wait,” you assure him before prying some more. “What’s up?”
Jaemin pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he shakes his head hesitantly. “Nothing. It’s just our last few days together. Figured we could hang out before you go off and get an actual boyfriend and I-” You watch as he fumbles for words, eventually giving up with a shrug as he finally makes eye contact with you again. “Go back to doing whatever it is I do.”
His answer doesn’t relieve you of any worry, and you move a hand up to cup his cheek as you tilt your head in study of him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Jaemin nods his head slightly against your hand, a fond smile at your touch replacing the distant expression he previously held. “There’s just a lot on my mind. Nothing for you to worry about. Just wanted to hang out with you and kind of escape it all for a bit,” he explains casually, eventually bringing both hands up to guide your own back down from his face, idly playing with your fingers as he asks his next question. “Do you still like cloud watching?”
“You know I do,” you reply with a laugh, and Jaemin finally bares his teeth as he smiles back at you. He checks to make sure you actually did put your shoes on already before switching his grip so that he was just holding your hand as he walked the two of you to his truck.
You ended up at one of those nature parks, where the fields are preserved for fields-sake rather than playgrounds. The two of you got out and made your way around to the tailgate of his truck and you register that he already had blankets and pillows in the back, completely reminiscent of high school.
You both sat in silence for a while, staring up at the sky and giving yourselves a chance to be at peace, at least somewhere away from the false sense of urgency that always seemed to be around. Eventually, you move your gaze from the clouds above to where your arms were wrapped around your knees, debating with yourself before finally breaking the silence.
“Jaem?” You call softly, and he turns all of his attention towards you.
“Yeah, angel?” He replies in much the same manner. You dart your tongue out to lick your lips, anything you could do to prolong your question - which you were currently thinking should’ve lost in your inner debate.
You finally let out a sigh, still focused in front of you as you talk. “You know you’re much more than the image you’ve picked up around campus, right?”
Jaemin’s face immediately whips back to the front so there would be no chance of making eye contact with you. “Um…” He begins, but that was the only word he could come up with before forfeiting with an awkward swallow. You know that means it’s up to you to continue.
“I know that day I first met your friend group, you had to make up a ton of stuff on how we got together and everything, but I don’t know if you were necessarily lying when you were talking about how I deserve better than getting tied into your fuckboy image. I just- wanna make sure you know, in case that has ever been your thought process for anyone you’ve had a crush on, that there’s so many more sides to you than that. An image is an image, okay? Don’t let it get to you.” Your courage is built with every word and you finally turn to face Jaemin as you continue softly, surely. “They don’t know you like I do.”
Jaemin’s lips part with a heavy exhale before he rolls them inwards in hesitation. “Do you mean it?” He finally asks, and there’s just a trace of sadness riddling his voice.
“Of course I do,” you say firmly, and Jaemin takes in your answer with a slow nod.
“It’s been hard. I-” He grimaces before letting out an awkward laugh. “Oh, this is kind of weird to talk about with you,” he continues, making you laugh, too as the atmosphere lightens.
“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s me.”
Surprisingly, that seemed to do it, because the tension in Jaemin’s shoulders falls as he lets out a light sigh and finally finds his words for what seemed to be the first time that night. “I used to not care. If they wanted to label me as a fuckboy, that was fine. Truthfully, if I was getting my dick wet, I was good-” He cuts himself off at the sound of a slightly louder exhale than normal from you, and he whips his head your way with a pout. “Don’t laugh, I’m being vulnerable.”
You stare back at him with a fond smile on your face and raised brows. “I’m not laughing,” you assure, and Jaemin turns to face his knees again as he accepts your denial of the claim without a fight. Then he starts back up with his explanation, his tone heavy and contemplative.
“Lately though, I’ve just been thinking I want so much more out of life. But, I spent so long under the fuckboy label I didn’t know if I would ever be able to break free from it, if I could ever be more.”
Your gaze on him softens but your eyebrows furrow; there was something so weird about knowing he’s never viewed himself in the way you do. “Na Jaemin, you’ve always been more,” you respond firmly. The lightest of exhales escapes as laughter from Jaemin, and he lets a weak smile play at his lips before responding.
“And you’ve always felt like home…” He says, matching your tone as he finally turns to look at you again. “That’s another thing I wasn’t lying about that day.”
You immediately dodge eye contact, knowing it’d reveal to him in milliseconds your real emotions towards all of this…towards him. Probably against your better judgement as well, you lean into him at your side, resting your head against his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’ve had a nice three months with you,” you say, your own weak grin making an appearance.
“Yeah,” he agrees, wrapping his arm around you casually. “It hasn’t been too bad, has it?”
There it was, the reason you needed to snap out of it, because for Jaemin, it just wasn’t ‘too bad,’ and meanwhile you’ve been over the moon these past three months. You’d come to your senses eventually - remember that ‘breaking up’ was the plan all along, that the last thing Jaemin wanted was to be in an actual relationship, and that you were going to have to be as okay with that as ever. However, for now, you figured you’d just lean into him a bit more while you still can.
The next day saw all eight of you at Chenle’s place, helping him decorate and prepare for the big party, and then it was New Year’s Eve. Only you and Jaemin knew that it was your last night together before the ‘break up;’ and neither of you knew that the other didn’t want it to ever end, meaning when you placed Jaemin’s hoodie in his backseat as a way to return it before the party, you didn’t know the idea of giving it back nauseated him possibly more than it did you. As such, the air was tense and awkward between the two of you, trying to keep hidden how devastated you knew you were going to be at the end of the night, and too dumb to realize the best thing you could do is talk about it.
Hand-in-hand with Jaemin, the two of you join the rest of your friend group, already standing around in a circle somewhere on the outskirts of the set up dance floor. They greet the two of you with bright smiles, none of them plagued with the knowledge that their favorite relationship was ending tonight. However, with the eight of you chatting about anything imaginable, the night became incredibly casual, despite the overwhelming amount of people flooding in around you all.
Eventually, the group divides up, deciding a range of different activities sounded best for the time being. You ended up with Chenle and Jisung, the three of you indulging in the indoor s’mores kit that was set up. Jaemin never moved from where the big group of you originally were. Instead, he let the crowd all pass around him as he stayed focused on you, gaze aimed in your direction with a fond smile as he watched you interact with his friends.
The only thing to break him from his staring is when Mark taps him on the shoulder and hands him a cup of water. “Man, I hope you know you’ve turned into a completely different person,” he says as he does so, making Jaemin furrow his brows in question; though Mark shakes his head as though it were no big thing. “You got this glow about you that scares me, and the look in your eyes when you’re staring at her…I didn’t think I’d ever see that from you - you know, being so against relationships and everything,” he ends with a light laugh.
Jaemin drops his head, his own laugh escaping his lips. “It’s just what happens when you’ve found your person, I guess,” he replies seriously. “I mean, to me?” He begins, finally looking up at Mark in sincerity before throwing his gaze your way. “For her?” He shakes his head, his smile turning into a dumb grin on his face as he finally admits to what’s been on his mind for three months. “Everything’s worth it. All the risk, all the effort, I’d do anything for her.” He looks your way once more before his gaze turns distant and he lets a grimace slip across his features. “It just took being with her to make me realize…I want to believe in love,” he finally says, meeting Mark’s eyes once again.
Mark’s smile was painted widely across his face, though he stared at his best friend in something like disbelief. “Want to believe it? Jaemin, you’re in it,” he says firmly, and Jaemin immediately lets his gaze fall to his feet as he lets out a heavy sigh.
“It’s less scary than I thought it’d be,” he finally says, and Mark’s smile turns fond as he gets a glimpse at how his best friend operates. He puts on his best voice of comfort as he replies.
“You said it yourself, it’s what happens when you’ve found your person. You should tell her,” he says, tossing his head in your direction casually, but Jaemin’s muscles tense up.
“No, I can’t,” he says in a rush, and Mark lets out a laugh.
“From the one who says he isn’t scared,” he teases, but Jaemin shakes his head - it wasn’t that.
“I- it’s a weird situation,” he says, letting out a huff with his bad explanation. “I can’t tell her. Not tonight, anyways…she won’t want to hear that from me,” he concludes, dragging off miserably. Mark’s face completely flips as he stares at Jaemin quizzically.
“But- she looks at you the same way, you know?” He says surely, but Jaemin shakes his head again.
“No, that’s just how she looks at me. Even when we were in high school.” He takes a moment to pause, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips before continuing with conviction. “No, she doesn’t love me. Not like this,” he says, and then he’s walking away, leaving a very confused Mark standing there with parted lips.
“...I thought she’s liked you since high school,” he says under his breath now that he knew there was no way Jaemin would hear anyways. He looks between you and Jaemin before shaking his head - the last thing he needed on New Year’s Eve was to engage in overthinking.
You had just broken away from where you were talking with Chenle and Jisung to instead make your way over to the punch table. Grabbing yourself a glass, when arms wrap around you in a hug from behind, you know the only person it could be. “Hey, handsome,” you say with a smile, turning your head to the side to try and lay eyes on him.
“Hi, angel,” Jaemin replies, taking the opportunity to place a small kiss on your cheek before continuing. “Are we kissing at midnight or are we ending things before then? I’m not sure if you want to start the new year with me or not.” His tone borders on defeat, and you turn around in his arms to stare at him with raised eyebrows and a playful smirk.
“I’ll be your new year's kiss if you’ll be mine,” you reply, and Jaemin lets out a small chuckle. “Besides,” you continue more seriously. “Ending this doesn’t mean you aren’t still my best friend. You’ll be a part of my new year no matter what. We can kiss and just pretend that was our way to say ‘bye’ to dating, cause you know, I guess it will be.” For a moment that you always knew was coming, admitting its near occurrence now felt like you just had the wind knocked out of you. Jaemin just stares down at you with a wide grin, nodding his head along to your words in approval.
“Alright best friend, then I’ll make sure to find you again before midnight,” he replies, the entire thing making you swallow awkwardly as you nod your head back at him slightly.
“Yeah…” You respond in something like a whisper, and with one light kiss on your forehead, Jaemin vanishes again into the crowd.
The rest of the New Years party was a blast, no doubt, but the knowledge of what was coming, or more so ending, plagued your thoughts and eventually you just needed to slip away from the rest of the noise. You ended up on the balcony attached to some random bedroom, the cool air something of a relief for your current state.
The only pull back into reality was when the ever-present loudness turned into synchronized cheers, and you catch as the entire party starts counting down from fifteen seconds. You whip around to start on your rushed journey back inside, realizing you never told Jaemin where you would be; but as you turn, you make eye contact with him, just stepping onto the balcony himself, an easy smile crossing his features. “No need to rush. I told you I’d find you before midnight,” he says with a light laugh, and you drop your head with a small exhale as your own form of laughter. “Ready to say ‘bye’ to all this pretending?” He asks, stepping up to where he was directly in front of you.
No. “Yep,” you respond with the best fake smile you could. You already made it this far with no problems, you refused to let it slip that your heart was fully in this right when it was about to end.
Jaemin matched your smile, and as the crowd’s counting reached the ‘3, 2, 1,’ his hand came up to find its favorite spot at your cheek again. Then he leaned in and kissed you right as the party erupted with cheers of ‘Happy New Year.’
Your hands gripped tightly at his shirt, keeping you steady and keeping him close to you; though he wasn’t necessarily going anywhere with one hand cupping your cheek and the other placed firmly on your waist. Unlike any of your other kisses, this one…lingered. The two of you kept steady pace with each other, you gently sucking on his bottom lip and figuring for as long as he’d let this go on, you would take it for all it was worth, trying to pretend you could ever kiss him enough for a lifetime.
When you think he’s breaking away, you’re instead met with the feeling of his tongue running across your top lip, asking for permission - permission all too easily granted by you as you open your mouth to let him explore. Your New Year's kiss turned into a greedy make out session, which was probably the last thing you were expecting, but you couldn’t take the time to question it because you were too busy drowning in his taste. You loved the taste of Jaemin on your tongue, and his own soft moan - which he tried so desperately to cover up but that you still very much heard, let you know he was currently feeling the same way; and you’d mark that down as a tiny win in the midst of the huge loss you were about to incur.
Against your better judgement, you finally break away when you truly couldn’t breathe anymore, and Jaemin rests his forehead against yours. The air was just filled with the sound of panting as the two of you tried to catch your breaths. You swallow awkwardly once you do, taking a small step back as you process what just happened, Jaemin’s hand running down your body until you were no longer in reach. “You’re awfully good at ‘goodbye,’” you say in between breaths.
Jaemin immediately dodges your gaze, facing somewhere off to the side as his adam's apple bobs up and down. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he responds quietly, to the point where you were practically just reading his lips, and then he’s gone, leaving you alone on the balcony to deal with your flooding emotions on your own…not that you could do so in his presence anyways.
You hated that it hurt this much - that a goodbye you knew was coming still seemed to blindside you. You had allowed your heart to indulge in his every romantic gesture, and while on the surface you knew they meant nothing, you held onto hope in some deep dark corner of your heart that maybe it wasn’t all just pretend; and yet here you were, grouped in with the vast category of girls he’s said ‘goodbye’ to in the way he knew all too well. You were his best friend but you were no one special, and you didn’t expect the resurgence of a fact that you already knew to affect you as much as it did - to make it feel as though you had been hollowed out, bones chilled from the empty space your soul used to occupy.
You and Jaemin weren’t in contact the entire first day of the new year, though you couldn’t complain because talking to him right away was not something you figured your heart could handle. Instead, you went to work out at the gym and run errands and all those other things people do when they’re single and making a point to say they’re okay with that. To be fair, it kind of worked. Not that you were okay with whatever you and Jaemin had gotten yourselves into coming to an end, but that day of productivity and endorphin-inducing activity helped you ground yourself - these past three months were you helping out your best friend, that was all it was ever supposed to be.
The next day was far less productive, but you were still functioning like normal. The only disruption from your typical daily routine came with a phone call from Haechan. As soon as you pick up, he starts speaking.
“Why did you go and break Jaemin’s heart all of the sudden?” He asks angrily.
You furrow your brows, though it wasn’t like he could see it anyways. “What do you mean? The breakup was mutual,” you counter in confusion, and Haechan lets out an actual ‘HA’ in disbelief before he replies with animosity.
“I need to know what the hell your definition of ‘mutual’ is because Jaemin hasn’t stopped crying for the past twenty-four hours.”
You think he’s kidding, like this is one last stupid test of whether your relationship ever added up - but you shake the idea away, he already got the money, it was a week past three months, there wasn’t anything for you to mess up now, the story you’ve been telling would work as it always had. “Crying? What? We both agreed we worked better as friends,” you reply instantly, confusion adequately painting your voice.
Haechan cannot believe his ears, and he makes sure to let you know so. For as much as you were confused, he didn’t understand why you were acting this way, ten fold. “No, I don’t believe you at all now. He wouldn’t agree on that. I don’t know how Jaemin talked to you, but he talked about you as though he’s never held anyone’s hand before until he held yours. Y/n, it was like you were the one to put every star in his night sky, I swear there’s no way this breakup was mutual.” Your whole world stops and you go speechless on the other end. Haechan was being dead serious, or else he wouldn’t be angry, he wouldn’t be pushing the subject. His words turn over and over again in your head. Jaemin talked about you, evidently when you weren’t around. You were fake-dating and yet Jaemin went out of his way to speak of you fondly to his friends. Jaemin, who never saw the point of getting romantically attached like that, doing more than what was needed in expressing his feelings about you. You push down the feeling of nausea and instead let out a deep sigh.
“I’ll be over in five minutes,” you say quietly, and then you hang up the phone before ever getting a reply from Haechan.
You race over to their apartment, and before you could even knock, Haechan is swinging the door open for you. The two of you make eye contact and about a million emotions pass between you, but it was easiest to pick up on the uncertainty. Haechan opens his mouth as if he’s about to bombard you with questions, or maybe yell at you again…you weren’t sure, but instead he just lets out a breath, nodding his head back in the direction of Jaemin’s room with a soft, “in there.”
You throw a thankful smile his way, not that you were necessarily guessing at where Jaemin could be, but you were very grateful he was letting you off so easily. Even by looking at Haechan, you could tell Jaemin had truly been crying for the past twenty-four hours…Haechan looked exhausted.
You lightly tap on the door of Jaemin’s room before entering, breath hitching as you lay eyes on his figure, curled up in a ball and clad in his favorite hoodie that you had given back - the hoodie he now knew you had lived in for the past few weeks because he already caught your own scent on it. Tears raced down his face, and he immediately turned away from you to hide them as he squeaked out choked words.
“Please go away,” he says, and reality hits you all at once. It wasn’t like you thought Haechan was lying, but now you truly had to face the fact that you were the cause of Jaemin’s tears; he wanted you to go away.
“Jaemin, I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly, shaking your head to emphasize the point. Though, as you do so, your gaze catches onto a gift bag on his dresser, a label with your name written on it in his stupid perfect handwriting.
You walk up to it, swallowing hesitantly as you turn your attention from the bag to Jaemin and back again. “What is this?” You finally ask. Jaemin shoots his gaze your way, not having previously realized what had caught your intrigue.
“Please don’t-” He rushes to say, but in the pause, you had already pulled out a diamond necklace, holding it gently between your shaking hands. You shake your head, eyes wide and jaw dropped as you’re unable to form a coherent thought. You turn back around to face him, your gaze darting every which way because you’re not sure you can confidently hold eye contact with him.
“Jaemin, what-? Why is this in a gift bag labeled for me-? When did you-?”
He cuts you off, visibly annoyed. “It’s what I used the bet money on. Now please go away,” he demands more firmly, but you wouldn’t be able to follow through on it even if you wanted to, because as you process his words, you lose the ability to move.
“You spent the $600 on this?” You ask in disbelief, turning your attention fully towards him to try and find any cue that he was lying. “On me?”
Jaemin turns his head to the side, and you watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down with an awkward swallow. When he finally answers, his voice has lost its tension, his words instead coming out as though he were ashamed. “$700,” he corrects. “I didn’t want it to feel like I was just gifting you something from the guys.”
You think you’ve gone crazy, or maybe Jaemin has, but all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. “I-”
He quickly finds his fire again, apparently having had enough embarrassment for a lifetime in those few seconds. “Please leave,” he spits out. He dares look up to make eye contact with you before immediately regretting his decision and staring back down at his bed again, wiping more stray tears from his eyes as he fumbles out his next words. “You can take the necklace if you want but just- please leave.”
“Jaem-” You say softly before he can cut you off.
“What?!” He quips, though when he shoots his gaze back to you in irritation, he realizes you’re no longer standing at his dresser, but sitting at the edge of his bed with him. Your fingers barren of the necklace, you instead occupy one hand by placing it on top of his own.
“You could’ve told me you fell for me, too,” you say seriously, and Jaemin stops breathing for a moment as he looks up at you with wide teary eyes.
“Too?” He echoes weakly, and all you can do is give a tight smile, moving a hand up to wipe under his eyes as you try to hold back your own tears.
“I refuse to believe I played off my huge crush on you since high school that well.” You reply with a hoarse laugh.
Jaemin finally recovers his ability to breathe as he lets out a heavy exhale. “You like me?” He asks through tears, and you finally break, having to wipe your own stupid tears off your face before nodding at him with an embarrassed smile.
“I always have. Why do you think I made all those stupid rules to try and make sure we acted like a couple as little as possible?” A bittersweet laugh gets caught in your throat as you think back on it. “If I had to listen to you call me cute names all the time, I wouldn’t have survived knowing it was eventually going to end,” you continue seriously.
Jaemin’s finally able to let out a bashful smile and sorry laugh. “...I called you cute names all the time anyways.”
You nod your head with a fond smile. “I know.”
“I couldn’t help it,” he explains as more tears rush down his face, though this time, they’re at least sliding down next to an embarrassed grin.
You look at him with playful raised eyebrows. “Just like how you couldn’t help it when you kissed me every time you saw me? Or looked over at me super fondly?”
Jaemin softens as his eyes trace over your figure, the distant look in his gaze letting you know his mind was rather preoccupied with reliving the past three months. “Exactly like that,” he says lowly, and you let out a breath, forcing your gaze away from Jaemin as you instead focus on the way your fingers were idly fidgeting with each other.
“God, Jaem. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized-” You speak apologetically but Jaemin cuts you off again.
“No, I should’ve communicated. Well…” He lets another soft laugh leave his system, the tears finally drying on his face as he works towards fully collecting himself. “I should’ve communicated when you knew I was serious.”
You smile at his words, shaking your head again as you relive every moment of the fake relationship. “I didn’t even know you had time to catch feelings for me,” you begin with something like wonder in your tone. “I mean- weren’t you still hooking up with-”
When Jaemin cuts you off this time, it’s with the most flustered of cheeks and the weakest of laughs. “Um, about that…the very first girl I hooked up with after we added that rule-” He shakes his head with a small smile as he corrects himself. “Well, I say that…she was also the last girl I hooked up with.” Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you process the information, but Jaemin doesn’t give you much time to do so before throwing in another wrench. “I uh- accidentally moaned your name.”
Your head whips in his direction, your wide eyes straining against your dropped jaw. “Jaemin! You did not!”
“Why would I make that up?!” He quips back with a hearty laugh. You move a hand over your gaping mouth, unsure at what exactly you were supposed to do with this news. You shake your head in disbelief.
“Oh my god, what did she do?” You ask, curiosity dripping from your voice. Jaemin bites on the inside of his cheek before giving in again with a light sigh.
“Well, we immediately stopped because we were both mortified, I think. She said something about how I obviously had to go figure some things out, to which I agreed, but for different reasons than she thought…” He drags off a bit but instead just shakes his head and goes in a different direction. “I practically begged her not to say anything about it, but she laughed and said I was crazy if I thought she was going to tell that story and humiliate herself,” he finishes with a small chuckle, and you just stare at him with no less shock than before.
“I can’t believe this,” you manage to get out playfully.
Jaemin flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement before his eyes light up and he rushes through more words. “Oh! The best part is, a week or so later, she saw us holding hands in public and texted me saying that she’s rooting for us,” he recalls with a shiteating grin.
“Stop!” You get out, the idea of it damn near killing you. Though, before you can end up dying of laughter with Jaemin, another piece of information fits itself into the puzzle and you come back to your senses in seriousness.
“Wait wait wait,” you begin, focusing your gaze fully on Jaemin again. “So, you’ve been celibate for like…three months now?” You ask in shock. Jaemin isn’t even the tiniest bit regretful as he responds with a shrug, his sincere gaze meeting your own.
“I only wanted you. Wasn’t going to waste mine or anyone else’s time pretending any different.”
Your gaze softens immediately as a fond smile plays against your features. “Jaem…” You aren’t necessarily sure where you were going from there, but Jaemin picks it up anyways with a small shake of his head; his own weak smile making an appearance again as he recounts those first few moments.
“You kissed me that first day and I assumed I was fucked,” he explains casually. “Everything felt like it changed, and not because it was affection but because it was you.” His cheeks puff out again with a bigger grin as he continues. “Then I had that slip up and I knew I was fucked. Couldn’t get you out of my head for even a moment. It was starting to drive me crazy how much I wanted to make you happy.”
His eyes meet yours again as he finishes, and you search them for answers you knew you would have to ask for. “A good crazy?” You question hesitantly, but Jaemin is quick to shut down any worries.
“The best,” he assures, moving his hands so that he could interlace them with yours. He moves his gaze from your physical contact back up to your face before continuing seriously. “I love you, y/n.”
You swallow hard, trying to not let any more tears run down your face, albeit happy tears weren’t so bad. You squeeze his hands in yours as you nod your head. “I love you, too.”
“Can we date for real?” He immediately asks, his wide pleading eyes making you chuckle.
“It’s been ‘for real’ for a while now,” you say warmly, but Jaemin shakes his head, not having it.
“Yeah, but we’re currently broken up if you don’t remember. The entire reason you’re over here is because I couldn’t stop bawling my eyes out…which was the worst feeling in the world, by the way,” he banters back with a weak laugh. You let a grimace cross your face before pulling it into a fond smile.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll never break up with you again,” you assure him softly. Jaemin doesn’t hide his wide smile as he shifts himself so he can easily lean in and kiss you softly, resting his forehead against your own as he pulls back to smile against your lips.
AITA for setting my cheating ex's car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)
pairing: firefighter!haechan x reader
genre: fluff
word count: 8.6k
synopsis: revenge is best served cold―or on fire. literally.
author’s note: luvpuffcore is finally back!! ilysm cat and moon and thank you for another amazing year of friendship <333 i truly am the #1 most successful fan of all time 🤩 also special shoutout to cat for letting me use some of her creepy dms and moon for sharing her league knowledge yall are god's strongest soldiers fr !! happy new year, my loves ✨🎆💞
warning(s): mentions/threats of violence, sexual jokes, y/n commits arson but in a girly pop way (pls don't try this at home), character assassination of mark
playlist: get him back! by olivia rodrigo ― is it new years yet? sabrina carpenter ― drinks or coffee by rosé ― risk by gracie abrams ― mastermind by taylor swift
additional: check out a nonsense christmas: reddit edition!
r/AmITheAsshole
u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 3d
AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)
I (24F) caught my boyfriend cheating on me with a discord kitten he met on League of Legends two days before our anniversary. I proceeded to have the biggest crash out ever known to man, bought a gallon of gasoline, went to his house in the middle of the night, and lit his car on fire. I had completely forgotten his cousin was a firefighter in the area, and he showed up at the scene, which hindered my masterful plan a little bit. Luckily, my ex didn’t press any charges though because no way in hell he’s going to admit he has a discord kitten in a court of law. Anyways, the next day, my ex groveled and begged me to go to his family’s Christmas party with him so that he could save face in front of his mommy. Long story short―let’s just say it didn’t go well. His cousin ended up driving me home, and I think maybe I’ve fallen for him?
⥣ 9.8k ⥥ 1,439 Comments
mcballs-im-lovin-it0323 • 2d
YTA for not crashing out even harder bc i woulda slept with his entire bloodline if he played in my face like that 🙂↕️
➥ Reply ⥣ 2.8k ⥥
picklepounder1010 • 1d
would’ve had him calling me mama, papa, auntie, uncle, grandma, grandpa etc fr 😩
➥ ⥣ 943 ⥥
god-of-donuts0423 • 1d
YTA for dating a lol player
➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥
goonknight1027 • 5h
no way this post is about that twink lol streamer
➥ ⥣ 629 ⥥
part one | oh, i wanna key his car…or light it ablaze?
onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:03 PM
heyyy u play lol too 😂
onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:05 PM
im a yasuo main 😂
onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhat kinda asian are u
onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhatchu look like
onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMsorry was that too much 😂😂😂
Your best friend, Rosie, has to put your phone down and take a few deep breaths. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Keep going. You haven’t even seen the worst of it,” you respond through a mouthful of strawberry ice cream, completely deadpan.
onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:21 AM
ahh 😂😂
onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:22 PM
*kisses you*
onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PM
can i tell U something weird :3 😂
onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:40 PM[Audio Message]
onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMi wrote this rap about my feelings for y baby girl
onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMbecause uve been such a good gril for me
onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:57 PM
holy fck holy dcking fck that body of urs is absurd
Rosie covers her mouth with her hand, closing her eyes in a grimace. “No way he copied Adam Levine unironically.”
“Keep going.”
onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AMwhen can i see u
onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM
ill be free after christmas
onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM
after annyign fam stuff 😂😂😂
Every message Rosie reads feels like another sucker punch in your gut and your ego, but you just dig your spoon into the tub of ice cream with even more force and let her keep going. Every time you blink, you feel dried up mascara flaking off your eyelashes and getting stuck in the dried tears and snot on your cheeks.
“‘Annoying fam stuff?’ Is he talking about your anniversary?” Rosie demands.
Yes, your anniversary with your now ex-boyfriend, Mark Lee, is on Christmas. You used to think it was romantic. What a goddamn idiot you were.
“At least he called me family,” you reply wryly, a hysterical laugh rattling in your chest like a wet cough.
Rosie shakes her head and hands your phone back to you. “I can’t read any more of this. I’m going to be sick. I thought Discord mods and Discord kittens were just memes. I can’t believe people like him actually exist.”
You just shrug.
“Where the hell is he now?” She crosses her arms.
“Probably at his parents’ house. They’re on a ski trip, and they won’t be back until tomorrow,” you sigh, getting a headache thinking about how you were going to explain this to Mark’s parents.
“Good. Change the locks on your door before he tries to come crawling back. He’s done mooching off you,” Rosie huffs.
“You were right,” you state matter-of-factly, “That he was just a jobless bum loser who’s a momma’s boy.”
She looks guilty, leaning over and giving you a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You think about the time you first met Mark, when the two of you were just starry-eyed freshmen in college together. He was so awkward and shy that it took almost an entire semester for him to finally look you in the eye. He followed you around like a sad puppy and would get flustered at any prolonged amount of attention you gave him. After about three years of him being hopelessly in love with you and unable to work up the courage to ask you out, you finally decided to give him a chance in your final year of college. It was a white Christmas, and you remember his trembling hands holding your face, freezing cold fingertips brushing your cheeks, and how red his nose was when he leaned in to kiss you. He looked at you as if you were a goddess that was put on this Earth purely for him to worship.
Maybe that’s why you moved in together with him when the two of you graduated, even when he was unemployed and you supported him financially. Maybe that’s why you smiled and nodded when he told you he wanted to try being a Twitch streamer. Maybe that’s why you gifted him his first microphone for his setup, or baked him a cake when he finally got his first viewer (even though it was actually a secret account that you made in order to boost his confidence). Maybe that’s why you never complained when he started skipping out on dates (sometimes even your birthday) in favor of growing his audience, or when he bought you extravagant gifts like jewelry or designer clothes without any clue of your preference or size. Maybe that’s why you chose to ignore the churning feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed his eyes starting to drift towards anything but you.
Maybe you were always the one who worshipped him.
It’s almost comical how easily almost a decade of your life has gone down the drain―and all it took was a couple of laughing emojis. In the end, the one who loves more is always the one who loses the most.
You gave up your best years to Mark Lee, and yet you seemed to have run out of tears to cry for this man.
Instead, all you have left now is pure, unbridled rage boiling inside of you. It’s the kind of anger that needs to simmer first―the kind that manifests first as a calm indifference before it finally bubbles over into a complete meltdown. But you’ll be damned before you set fire to your mental health and personal belongings that you worked tooth and nail for over a man who ruined your life.
So, you’ve decided to set fire to something else.
“Rosie,” you say softly, your voice chillingly serene. “I’m going to set his car on fire.”
Rosie laughs. “Want me to be your getaway driver?”
“No, I wouldn’t want to implicate you,” you respond smoothly. “Besides, I want him to know that I’m the one who did it.”
She looks at you for a moment, trying to decide if you’re joking or not. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I don’t have the energy to care about him anymore,” you answer―only a half lie. “You should go now. I know you have a late shift tonight.”
Rosie gives you another tight squeeze. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m off this weekend, so we should go get drunk off our asses.”
After she leaves, you slowly get up and make your way to the bathroom. You wash your face in the sink, scrubbing on the gunk off, and apply a fresh layer of makeup. If you’re going to do this, you’re going to make sure you look hot as hell (pun intended). Once you’re done, you make your way to the nearest gas station and purchase a gallon of gasoline before promptly driving to Mark’s parent’s house.
By the time you get there, it’s already close to midnight, and not even the darkness can shroud Mark’s new Tesla Cybertruck. You remember when he bought it because you had to pay for half of his rent for the month because he was saving up for it―the smug grin on his face, as he announced it to his Twitch chat. You’re embarrassed at how happy you were for him, and you didn’t even have the heart to tell him how hideous you found it. The truck’s mirrored exterior reflects the moon in the starless night sky, and the full moon almost looks like a shiny, pretty bullseye calling out for you to destroy it.
Without hesitation, you get out of your car and immediately start dumping gasoline all over and around the car. The scent of gasoline normally makes you nauseous, but the scent of revenge smells even sweeter. Before you take out your lighter, you pick up a large piece of broken concrete from his driveway. With all of the strength you can muster, you hurl the concrete into the driver side window of the truck and watch your reflection shatter along with the glass.
The car alarm starts blaring, and you wait for the light in Mark’s room to blink on. You see his silhouette as he opens his blinds and peers out, just to lock eyes with you. He gawks at you like he’s just seen a ghost, and it doesn’t take long for him to make his way down to you. As he stumbles down the driveway, you take out your lighter and flick it on, letting it slowly slip from your fingertips. Your heart swells with a hysterical sense of glee as his eyes widen, the orange flames reflecting in his teary eyes. His Cybertruck is set ablaze with a Hollywood-esque level of perfection, and the fire gives your face a golden glow as if you were the starring actress.
“Y/N! Are you fucking crazy?” Mark hollers over the crackle of the flames, voice breaking.
“Oh, you bet I fucking am,” you laugh.
“I’m gonna sue you―you bitch! Have you thrown in jail!” he screams, fishing his phone out of his pocket and punching in 911 on the keypad. “I’m calling the cops right now!”
“Do it, you spineless piece of shit! I’m going to make sure everyone in this damn neighborhood and on the internet knows what a lying, cheating, soul-sucking little leech you are!” you yell back at him. “I’m going to ruin your fucking career first and then happily walk my ass down to the police station.”
That makes Mark stop in his tracks, his thumb hovering over the dial button. He can’t control the fear on his face. “No one is gonna believe you.”
“Aw, you sure no one will believe me when I show everyone the screenshots of your DMs with uwukittenbb69?” you taunt.
“I’ll say they’re fake!” he nearly screeches.
“Let’s fucking go then! My word against yours. We’ll see who they believe,” you challenge.
Mark falters and takes a small step forward. “W-Wait…”
Unfortunately for him, he’s interrupted by the squealing sirens of a firetruck pulling up to the street. You and Mark exchange glances, and you silently dare him to report you, before both of you turn towards the firefighters exiting the truck.
“Mark…and Y/N?”
Your eyes widen at the sound of the approaching firefighter’s voice. You watch in horror as the firefighter removes his helmet, and you get a clearer look at his face. Tufts of wavy caramel-colored hair sticking out, a youthful and angelic face that doesn’t suit his occupation, and heart-shaped lips turned downwards in concern―it’s Mark’s cousin, Donghyuck. You’ve met him a decent amount of times at family gatherings, and he sometimes drops by you and Mark’s apartment to deliver homemade food from his mom. Donghyuck has always been kind to you, and you didn’t want him to see you like this.
Donghyuck’s confusion is short-lived before his attention falls back to the fire and how close you are to it. He quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the burning truck.
“Be careful. Are you hurt?” he asks carefully, eyes scanning your face with precision. “And why aren’t you wearing a jacket? It’s freezing out here.”
You open your mouth to try and fumble out an answer, but you flinch at the sound of Donghyuck’s colleagues blasting Mark’s car with water from the firetruck’s power hose. All that’s left of the Cybertruck is a deformed and blackened pile of scrap metal with a plume of smoke rising from it. You can’t help the sense of satisfaction you feel.
“Don’t breathe in the smoke. It’s not good for you,” Donghyuck urges, gently sticking an arm in front of you and gesturing for you to step back even further. “Come with me. There’s blankets in the back of the truck.”
“I’m fine,” you finally manage to say, shaking your head. “I’m not cold.”
It’s true; the fire you set has been more than enough to make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. He doesn’t look like he believes you but doesn’t try to push any further.
“Okay, so what the hell happened here? We got a call from the neighbors saying there was a blazing ball on fire in Mark’s driveway and that the two of you were in a screaming match.”
“Ask Mark,” is all you say.
Donghyuck raises an eyebrow.
“It was an accident.”
As if on cue, Mark suddenly materializes next to you and Donghyuck―a restless expression on his face. He probably thought you were telling Donghyuck what he did to you and rushed over.
“What?” Donghyuck’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “You’re saying that was an accident?”
“Yeah. I was just…messing around. Don’t worry about it. It was an accident,” Mark says through gritted teeth, sounding completely defeated.
The corners of your mouth twitch when you chime in, “A senseless accident.”
Donghyuck is completely speechless as he glances between the two of you. However, you look past him and watch the fireworks exploding in the dark sky. Pulling out your phone, you see that it’s midnight, meaning it’s officially the 25th of December. Glancing over at Mark, you see him trembling in the cold with a sniffly red nose and bloodshot eyes. He’s staring straight at the ground, fists clenched.
You smile.
part two | part two | wanna push him in the fireplace and watch him burn!
When you finally get home that night, you draw yourself a steaming hot bubble bath and even use the fancy bath bomb that Rosie bought you. After you get dressed, you make a charcuterie board and pour yourself a glass of wine as well before falling asleep to a Hallmark movie playing on your television. It’s probably the best sleep you’ve gotten over the past month.
You wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, a certain five-foot-nine burden lifted from your shoulders, and text all of your friends and family your holiday greetings. Rosie invited you out to her family gathering because she didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas, but you declined. You decided to stay home and get some cleaning done. Of course, by cleaning, you mean boxing up all of Mark’s stuff and donating it to Goodwill. You initially wanted to burn everything, but you’ve committed enough arson already.
Just as you’re getting ready to make a hearty breakfast in preparation for the mass Mark exodus, you hear the door to your apartment being opened, and your blood runs cold when you realize you haven’t changed the lock. Then your cold blood begins to boil at the audacity that Mark still must have in his pathetic little body to even dream of stepping foot in your home.
Gripping your frying pan tightly, you march out of the kitchen to greet him. Mark at least has the sense to shrivel back when he sees you approach him. To your delight, he looks absolutely terrible. It’s obvious he didn’t get any sleep nor did he feel the need to change out of his pajamas.
“I know you’re mad,” he says quickly, holding his hands out as if ready to block a punch.
“If you actually knew that, you wouldn’t have stepped foot in my apartment,” you say nonchalantly. “You have ten seconds to give my key back to me and get the hell out before you have to call the cops again.”
“Chill, chill,” he mutters, “I’m just here for my stuff―”
“Don’t tell me to chill. I’ve always hated it when you tell me that. It makes you sound like a patronizing douchebag, which you are, of course,” you snap. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you just waltz in here and casually get your stuff. Most of which I paid for, by the way.”
“Y/N, come on,” he sighs. “at least let me get my PC setup.”
That makes you burst out laughing. “Holy shit. You really have the gall to ask me for your PC setup? Are you on actual crack? Get the fuck out!”
“Okay, okay, okay. I’m sorry, okay? Just one more thing―”
“Don’t make me swear to Jesus on his birthday―”
“My mom wants you to come to the Christmas party this afternoon,” he blurts out, squeezing his eyes shut. “I…haven’t told her yet. I wanted us to tell her, um, together, after the party.”
He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand what he’s implying. He wants to make it seem like the breakup was mutual to save his reputation and because he knows his mom will lose her mind. He’s pretended to be her perfect little boy his entire life, a momma’s boy to the very core, so he can’t ever let her know what a bottomfeeder he is.
“Is this some sort of social experiment to see how far you can push my limits before I finally snap? Again?” you ask incredulously.
“Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything. I won’t ask for my stuff anymore. I won’t tell anyone about the car thing. I promise you that you won’t ever see me again if you do me this favor,” Mark sputters.
You hate that you still hesitate, despite how much you’re disgusted by him. It makes you feel like you haven’t completely axed the part of you that was in love with him, and that sickens you. However, Mrs. Lee has always been like a second mother to you, and it doesn’t feel right to just cut her off without a proper goodbye just because her son is a cretin. You suppose this could be good closure for such an ill-fated relationship.
“You swear on your life that you’ll leave me alone forever after this?” you ask, crossing your arms.
Mark nods profusely.
“Fine. I’m only staying for an hour, and I don’t care if the party isn’t over yet. We’re going to tell her within that period or else,” you state.
“Thank you. Thank you so much, Y/N.” Mark opens his arms to hug you, and it takes every fiber in your being not to whack him across the head with your frying pan.
“Do not touch me,” you warn, “Now get out.”
To his credit, he promptly hightails it out of your apartment (perhaps he finally noticed the murderous glint in your eye). You almost immediately regret agreeing, but you tell yourself that today is the last day that you’ll ever have to deal with the likes of Mark Lee again. Putting a hold on cleaning, you get ready for the party instead, donning a cute holiday fit that you had prepared especially for today since it was supposed to be your anniversary. Now, it makes for a great revenge dress.
Mark had texted you to let you know to bring a gift since there would be a white elephant gift exchange, and half of you wants to call him and scream at him for not letting you know sooner and the other half is screaming at yourself for forgetting to block him. Not having enough time to go out and buy a gift, you decide to wrap up the scarf that you knitted for Mark. You stayed up all night after you got off work to make it for him, and it looks a bit wonky, but you thought he would appreciate it. You feel bad for whoever receives it, but there has to be a few duds in the mix or it’s not a true white elephant experience. Maybe they can use the scarf to wipe up their dog’s piss or something.
When you drive back to Mark’s parents’ house, it’s an ironic clash of atmospheres. The place is decked out with Christmas decorations, an amalgamation of rainbow lights, inflatable snowmen, and wreaths on every door and window. Yet, you can also see remnants of the dark burn marks in their driveway. Mark must have managed to call a tow to take his Cybertruck away just in the nick of time. You do wonder how he managed to explain the burn marks, though.
Taking in a deep breath, you hype yourself up in your car visor mirror before stepping out and walking to the front door. Before you can even knock, Mrs. Lee opens the door and envelops you in a bear hug. She smells like sugar cookies, and it occurs to you how much you’ll miss her.
“Oh, sweetie! I’m so glad you’re here,” she coos, cupping your face. She then ushers you into the living room, linking her arm through yours. “I was so worried because I thought the two of you got into a fight while we were on our trip.”
You just smile uncomfortably. “O-Oh.”
“A mother’s intuition is always right, you know,” she says, winking, “Plus, I knew something was off when Mark told us he’d be staying at our place for a couple nights. Poor boy was a mess, you know. He somehow managed to total his car in the driveway! Can you believe it? He really needs you around to whip him into shape!”
You hope she can’t see you holding in a laugh. As you’re walking, you scan the room for Mark, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t surprise you one bit that you’re being treated as fodder so he can hide in his room.
“Anyways, say hi to everyone!” She leads you directly into a circle of Mark’s aunt and uncles. You give them all an awkward hello and try to slink away while they all converse, but one of Mark’s aunts turns towards you.
“So, how long have you and Mark been together, honey?” she asks.
“Um, about four years―”
“Oh, but they’ve known each other for much longer than that. Seven years! Mark had the biggest crush on her, you know,” Mrs. Lee interjects.
“My goodness, does that mean we’ll be hearing wedding bells soon?” Mark’s aunt teases. The rest of the circle oohs and ahhs, and you want to strangle yourself with a garland.
“I mean, what is he waiting for anyway? He’s making loads of money on the Internet now, isn’t he?” she continues.
“Exactly. I want grandchildren, you know,” Mrs. Lee huffs.
Unable to bite back your words anymore, you clear your throat loudly. “I have something I need to―”
“Oh, Y/N! I’ve been looking for you,” another voice chimes in.
All of you turn around, and a gasp nearly escapes you when you see Donghyuck standing in front of you. He’s in a white cable knit sweater, and his wavy hair looks so fluffy that you almost want to reach out and touch it. His cheeks are a bit flushed, probably because he’s in such thick clothing (or Mrs. Lee’s famous spiked eggnog). Without his uniform on, he looks much softer, dreamier.
“You…have?” you ask, bewildered.
“Yup! Come on, I gotta ask you something,” he answers cheerfully, gesturing for you to follow him.
You’re a bit wary of what he’s scheming, but you’d rather risk it than have to deal with any more marriage talk, so you gladly let him whisk you away from the crowd. Donghyuck leads you to a less crowded part of the room, swiping a piece of chocolate cake when he walks past the dessert table, and tucks himself into a corner that’s concealed by a giant Christmas tree.
“Here we go. I introduce to you my super covert corner that I stand in when I want to avoid nosy relatives,” he says in a sing-song voice before offering you the cake in his hand. “Would you like some German chocolate cake made by yours truly? It’s pretty damn average, if I do say so myself.”
You pause, only just now realizing that Donghyuck helped you out. You suppose you have nothing to lose, so you accept the cake. “Oh. Thank you. So, you didn’t have anything you wanted to ask me?”
“Well, actually, I do,” he hums, giving you a sheepish grin. “You set Mark’s car on fire last night, didn’t you?”
Part of you already expected this question coming, so you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Are you accusing me?”
“Why, I wouldn’t dare. Besides, I don’t need to. I know you did,” he says casually, shrugging.
Even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. In fact, Donghyuck almost seems to find it amusing.
“Do you have proof?”
“Mark told me,” he states sweetly.
You sigh loudly, immediately giving up the ruse. “I knew that damn lowlife would yap.”
“So, what did he do?”
“Of course, he told you what I did but didn’t tell you what he did,” you snort.
“What, he cheat or something?”
“Worse.”
You pull out your phone and show Donghyuck Mark’s Discord DMs and watch his expression morph into disgust as you indulge in the cake he gave you. The dessert is perfectly average as he said, but there’s something charming about it. In that way, the cake is quite similar to its maker.
“As a government employee and resident fighter of fires, nothing justifies arson,” he states after a brief moment to collect his thoughts, “but this comes pretty damn close.”
You give him a smug I-told-you-so look.
“But seriously, what you did was really dangerous, Y/N. You could have injured yourself badly. That jackass is not worth getting third-degree burns over. There are better ways to get revenge, you know,” he lectures.
“Like what?” You raise an eyebrow.
“I don’t know, like TP or egg his car or something. Slash his tires?”
“God, are you from a 90s movie or something? That’s lame as hell,” you snort, taking another bite of cake.
“Dig your key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive? Carve your name into his leather seats? Take a Louisville slugger to both headlights? Slash a hole in all four tires?” He wriggles his eyebrows.
“Are you quoting Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood?” you ask incredulously.
“Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats…” Donghyuck sings, purposefully off-key.
You can’t fight that smile that spreads across your face, and it eventually turns into a full-on belly laugh when he continues to sing. It’s the first genuine laugh, the first moment of brief happiness and relief, that you’ve felt in a long time. You thought you had it when you set Mark’s car on fire, but something still coiled in the pit of your stomach like simmering, black smoke. In this tiny little corner that smells of pine needles and chocolate cake, you feel free like a clear sky after a long winter storm.
“For the record,” Donghyuck says, voice gently dipping, “you’ve always been too good for him, and everyone knows it―including him. He’ll regret what he did to you for the rest of his life. That’s your revenge.”
Your breath staccatos in your chest at his words. You tell yourself that he has always been a smooth talker, but he looks at you with such honesty and warmth that you want to believe him.
“Have you always been this sweet?” You meant for the words to come out in a teasing manner, but your voice is tinged with breathlessness.
Donghyuck grins, and his lips remind you of the heart-shaped lollipops that you see in the store during Valentine’s Day. “The sweetest.”
A part of you wonders what would happen if you craned your neck and kissed him right here and now. Not because you’re romantically interested in him, of course. Rather, it would be a spectacular way to get revenge on Mark. Most girls go for the brother or the best friend―maybe even the dad if one is particularly ambitious―but the cousin is an untapped (pun NOT intended) medium for revenge.
You wonder if Donghyuck tastes like cookies or wine-filled chocolates or spiked eggnog or even fruitcake. You really hate fruitcake, but you suppose you wouldn’t mind for the sake of revenge.
But you would never do that to him. He’s much too kind of a person to be involved in you and Mark’s mess. The fact that you’re able to confide in him and he actually takes your side is something that you truly appreciate. As much as you want to torment Mark, it’s best to just end it here.
“You can use me too, you know,” Donghyuck adds.
“Huh?” You blink.
“For your revenge,” he clarifies. “Use me. To make him jealous, to bully him, whatever you want.”
For a moment, you almost believe he somehow read your mind.
“Just wanted to let you know,” he says, shrugging, “since you probably think it would be too mean. Plus, I think you would need my help anyways.”
That makes you feel greatly offended. “What is that supposed to mean? You say that like I didn’t set a car on fire.”
“You’re too naive in your thinking. Revenge doesn’t always have to be loud and in your face like that. It’s a lot more fun when you break them down psychologically in more subtle ways,” he explains.
“So, you―as a government employee―can’t approve of me committing arson because I got cheated on, but you―as a government employee―can casually and openly discuss waging psychological warfare on another civilian. On said person who cheated on me, who also happens to be your cousin because you seemed to have forgotten that, ” you point out sardonically.
Donghyuck just smiles before slightly leaning in, eyes flickering down to your lips. You open your mouth to retort but your words instantly die in your throat, softly gasping when his hand brushes your chin as he reaches over and swipes a bit of chocolate frosting from your bottom lip with his thumb.
“Sure I can,” he answers smoothly, “because, unlike a certain someone, I won’t get caught.”
“I didn’t―”
“And by the way, Mark didn’t tell me you set his car on fire.”
You gawk at him as he walks past you with a content grin on his face. “Now come on, I hear my aunt calling for us.”
Maybe you need to take back your earlier statement of Donghyuck being too kind. He might actually have more screws loose than you.
.
.
.
You almost completely forget about Mark until he finally comes downstairs for the white elephant exchange. You’re in such a daze from your earlier interaction with Donghyuck that you barely recoil when Mark takes a seat beside you on the couch, especially since Donghyuck is sitting in the rocking chair directly across from you.
The gift exchange begins once everyone has drawn a number, and you honestly just dissociate for the first half of it. Keeping your gaze trained on the piece of paper that has 26 scribbled on it, you don’t look up until you feel Mark get up beside you and pick a gift from the pile. You’re praying to both Jesus and Santa that he doesn’t pick yours, but you suppose you've been deemed a sinner and also put on the Naughty List (maybe for setting your cheating ex’s care on fire?) because Mark somehow manages to find yours in the pile of presents.
When he opens it, you can tell by the way he quickly glances at you that he knows it’s yours. After all, he saw you practicing your knitting throughout the week. He happily wraps it around his neck and beams proudly. “I love it.”
The way he carefully looks back at you makes you want to smack him into the new year. You know he’s trying to get on your good side, and you make it clear with your scowl that it isn’t working.
You’re actually grateful that it’s your turn next so that you’re able to get up and walk away from him. Wanting to get this entire situation over with, you haphazardly grab one from the top of the pile. Your heart sinks when you take out the stuffing paper from the bag and realize that it’s Mark’s gift. You contemplate putting the paper back in and not opening it at all, but you cave under the pressure of all the expectant pairs of eyes on you.
In typical Mark fashion, his gift is a signed T-shirt of his own merch. It’s an obnoxious yellow color with his Twitch username and a giant screen printed image of his face plastered across it. He’s written his signature right over his forehead, so it makes him look like he has random chicken scratch on his face.
“Oh, it must be destiny!” Mrs. Lee exclaims, clapping her hands together.
You force a smile before returning to your seat, doing everything in your power to ignore Mark’s stupid giddy expression. Shoving the shirt back into the bag, you casually kick it away from you.
A couple more people take their turns, and you’re counting down the seconds to when this is finally over so you can go home. Eventually, it’s Donghyuck’s turn, and he saunters towards you and holds his hand out.
“Gimme.”
You blink at him.
“Your gift. I’m stealing it,” he explains, wiggling his fingers.
“You want…this?” you ask, completely baffled.
“Well, duh. It’s going to sell for a lot of money, you know.” He winks.
You can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s helping you out again. “This has to be unethical. Aren’t you a government employee?”
“Government employees need to make money too,” he replies, sighing.
“Well, if you really want it, I guess I have no choice,” you huff, faking exasperation before handing him the bag.
You’re smiling when he takes it and walks back to his chair, and you hear Mark grumble something under his breath. Turning to him, you raise an eyebrow, snippily asking, “What?”
“I said,” he repeats so loudly that it reverberates throughout the room, “when did the two of you get so friendly?”
A silence falls over everyone, and the two of you are now center stage.
“Are you really going to do this now?” you hiss.
“I noticed that the two of you were getting awfully cozy behind the Christmas tree earlier,” Mark retorts, shrugging.
Donghyuck gets up to intervene, but he doesn’t have time to even react before you grab a pillow from the couch and chuck it in Mark’s face.
“You’ve got some nerve. Was this your plan all along? To make me look like the bad guy in front of your family?” you demand, feeling your face grow hotter and hotter from rage. “You and uwukittenbb69 were getting awfully cozy too, don’t you think? I’d say snug as a bug in a goddamn rug even.”
Mark stands up in a flash, his eyes frantically glancing at his mom before pointing his finger at you. “Baby, I told you she was just a friend.”
You nearly choke on air when you hear him call you that. Making a beeline towards the pile of presents, you begin to toss them at Mark with each question you add. “You absolute lunatic. Do friends beg each other for pictures of their tits? Do friends write raps confessing their love for one another? Do friends blow off their anniversary with their girlfriend so that they can meet up for a quick booty call? And yes, I’m saying quick because you and I both know it’ll be a speedy endeavor.”
“What on Earth is going on?” Mrs. Lee cries out as Mark tries his best to swat away the presents being hurled at him.
“You’re a psycho bitch,” Mark yells. “It’s not like I actually slept with her. We were just messing around online. You got jealous over nothing. And you set my car on fire!”
“You wanna see psycho?” you snap, throwing the present in your hands down onto the floor and marching towards him with your bare fists before you suddenly stop and take in your surroundings. You see the horror and shock on everyone’s faces, the way they’re looking at you, and then perhaps most clear of all―Mark’s expression. He’s angry just like you, but there’s a glimmer of victory in his eyes. As if he’s bested you in some manner.
And he has. You’re the villain now.
Taking in a deep breath, you will yourself to walk over to Mark in a calm manner, looking him directly in the eye.
“You’re nothing except a liar and a cheater, Mark Lee. That will never change that no matter how much you try to spin it in front of your family. You built your success off my back, and I hope that haunts you for the rest of your life. May you receive everything that you’ve done to me tenfold. That’s all I want to say—” You pause. “Oh, and I’ve always thought your Cybertruck was fucking ugly.”
You reach over and snatch the scarf from his neck before turning and walking out of the door, feeling like you finally managed to cut off the ball and chain around your ankle. Just as you’re about to reach your car, you hear someone calling after you.
“I’ll drive you home,” Donghyuck says once he catches up to you.
“I’m not so distraught that I’ll become a hazard on the road,” you say wryly
“Well, when it comes to being around a car, you’ve certainly proved that you’re not exactly at your most dangerous when you’re behind the wheel,” he jokes.
“You may have a point,” you acknowledge, giving him a small smile.
“Let me drive you home, Y/N. I’m worried about you,” he insists again, much quieter this time.
“How are you going to get back then?” You raise an eyebrow.
“I’ll call an Uber or something.”
“That would be such a waste of money,” you snort.
“Not if it’s for you,” he says almost instantly. His normally brown eyes almost look auburn when under the golden glow of the sunset.
There’s such determination, such assurance, such warmth in his gaze that you let yourself be surrounded with, no longer having the energy to resist him, and it feels like falling onto a soft cloud after a long, winding journey. For once, you just want someone to take care of you, even if it’s just for a moment.
“Fine. Do as you please,” you relent, tossing him your car keys before walking around to the passenger side and climbing in.
Donghyuck looks relieved, beaming when he situates himself in the driver’s seat. You try not to be impressed with the way he easily backs out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the headrest behind you, maneuvering the wheel with a deftness you’ve never seen before. Then again, he does drive a massive fire truck on the daily, so your Toyota probably isn’t much of a challenge for him.
He drives with his eyes staring straight down the road―almost too focused―because you know he’s trying not to look at you. Probably because you’re making it abundantly clear that you don’t want him to look at you, leaning your head against the window and away from him. It doesn’t mean that you don’t see his wandering eyes, almost as if it were second nature, drift back to you in the reflection of the window.
“Pathetic, right?” you finally say, feeling suffocated by the heavy silence.
“What’s pathetic?”
“Me.”
“Why would you be pathetic?” Donghyuck grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as the leather creaks under the force of his hold.
“Mark was right. I talked a big game in front of him, but in the end, I was just the psycho ex-girlfriend. I told myself that I would never let him hold my emotions hostage anymore. That I would erase any care I had for him left in me. Because indifference means that I’m truly free. But I couldn’t do it. I really hate him, to my very core, and that means he still has power over me. I hate that most of all. I want him to feel the same pain I did, and I want to exact revenge on him, but at the same time, I want to move on with my life. I’m like a dog chasing my own tail; it’s pathetic.”
You wanted to sound more lighthearted about this, turn it into a joke, but Donghyuck seems to draw out a vulnerability within you that makes you want to tell him everything you’ve been trying to desperately ignore.
“Y/N, you’re dealing with the end of a long-term relationship. It’s only natural that you have confusing and conflicting feelings about everything. You’re not pathetic; you’re human. Mark stole your girlhood and your youth, and it’s going to take time for you to heal from that. It’s impossible to immediately get back on your feet after what he did to you. None of this is your fault, so don’t ever berate yourself,” Donghyuck’s voice trembles as he speaks. “I promise you that one day, you’re going to wake up and you’ll realize that you don’t remember what Mark's favorite food is. His favorite movie. His favorite color. Then you’ll realize that you can barely even remember what his face looks like when he’s sad, happy, angry. Eventually, you’ll forget about him entirely, and all the pain he caused you will just be seconds of your life that evaporates from your mind completely.”
When he speaks to you like there’s nothing he’s more sure of in this world, it makes you want to believe him. You want to be his promise.
“Thank you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, placing your hand on top of his for just a moment before pulling away. Your touch is feather light, but you hope he didn’t notice the way your fingertips lingered a second longer.
The two of you fall quiet again, but this time, the silence is much more comfortable now. You’re almost disappointed when he pulls into your apartment complex, unsure of how to say goodbye to him.
“Would you like some hot cocoa or something?” you blurt out when he parks. “I think I have some in my apartment.”
You don’t realize how suggestive your offer sounds until it’s too late. Donghyuck hesitates for a moment, and you can tell he’s debating on if he should tease you about it or not. To your surprise, he doesn’t.
“Nah, it’s okay. It’s getting dark soon, so I should head back.” He pulls out his phone and starts ordering an Uber.
“Want me to wait with you then?” You’re not sure why you keep insisting on staying with him, but this day has been so batshit insane that you almost feel like a passenger in your own body.
“Probably not a good idea,” he chuckles.
Now, you feel both confused and slightly offended again.
“And why is that? I know I’ve been a bit of a menace today, but still…” you trail off awkwardly.
Donghyuck pauses for a moment as he stares at you; his face is closer to yours than it’s ever been because you’re sitting right next to him. You can tell he’s thinking very carefully about his next words. It occurs to you that, for a guy as seemingly flippant as him, he is actually quite thoughtful.
“You know, I’ve been compared to Mark my entire life,” he begins, musing.
“Sooo…you didn’t want me to wait with you because you’re gearing up for a trauma dump?” You raise an eyebrow.
Donghyuck holds his hand up in front of you, shushing you. “Shh, let me have my big moment.”
“Sorry. Please proceed.”
“Ahem. As I was saying, I was but a poor, innocent wee boy living in the shadow of the golden child in our family. Mark was always the more athletic, the funnier, the more charming one. His grades were ass, but he always managed to get out of trouble because he was the favorite. When I got my job as a firefighter and he was unemployed, my family barely congratulated me or even acknowledged it at all because they were afraid they would upset Mark. You see, I’ve actually lived quite a tragic life,” Donghyuck sniffles, wiping away a fake tear.
“What a shame that they can’t see how wonderful you are,” you chime in, a smile in your voice.
Your honesty in response to his joke visibly catches him off guard, and he blinks a couple of times before your words finally register.
“Right?” he huffs dramatically, but he can’t seem to meet your eyes completely as a light flush dustes his face and ears. “But fret not, I didn’t particularly mind. It was nice not having to live up to any expectations. Besides, I was happy for Mark when he finally got successful as a streamer. We were raised like brothers, and I always admired him. I was proud of him.”
“Ha, little did you know—”
“All this to say that, growing up, I’ve never been once jealous of Mark,” Donghyuck states proudly.
Then he slowly looks over at you with longing eyes, almost as if his body turning itself towards you is a natural reflex. His expression is so soft and affectionate that it nearly takes your breath away.
“That is, until he met you.”
So, this is what Donghyuck looks like when he’s in love. You wonder if it would ever be possible for you to wake up one day and not remember it.
But you aren’t sure if you return his feelings in the same way. Just like you couldn’t bring yourself to use him for your revenge, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to wait for you while you figure out the mess of your current emotional state. The one who loves more always loses, and you don’t want to lose Donghyuck.
“I just wanted to tell you that,” he continues, “I’m not expecting a response. It’s for the better you don’t respond right now anyways. If you want to pretend like this conversation was all a bad dream conjured up by sleep paralysis and never want to talk about it again, I’m okay with that too.”
You smile.
“But…if you’re able to, just look my way sometimes. I’ll do everything in my power to keep your attention, even if I have to get on a unicycle with a clown nose and juggle. And, if one day, you find yourself looking for me on your own, let me know. Then, I’ll ask for an answer,” Donghyuck promises.
True to your word, you don’t give him an answer. Instead, you take the scarf that’s been laying across your lap—the scarf with a few holes thanks to missing yarn and sections where you accidentally knitted the pattern in the wrong direction. Now it’s a bit stretched out due to you snatching it off Mark.
But this scarf, as average (maybe even less) as it may be, is charming in its own way.
Leaning forward, you wrap the scarf around Donghyuck’s neck. He watches you in complete awe, in a trance, as if he were in a dream and any movement would wake him up.
“I should head inside now,” you say quietly, trying not to giggle at his stupefied expression.
He only nods dazedly, and you’re certain that would have been his reaction regardless of what you said. It takes a few more beats for your words to actually click before he clears his throat loudly. “Right. Yes. You should.”
He hands you your keys back before stepping out of the car and opening your door for you. “I’ll wait down here until you get inside, and then I’ll go meet my Uber.”
“Thanks for driving me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him.
“You’re welcome. Good night, Y/N.” Donghyuck puts his hands in his pockets and tucks his chin into the scarf as he watches you go.
As your hand hovers over the doorknob, you know you should just open the door and walk inside so you don’t keep him waiting in the cold. You really shouldn’t look back because it would mean that you wanted to. Not because he asked you to.
But you do. You look back—
only to meet his eyes, the two of you exchanging knowing smiles.
extra | is it me? am i the drama? i don’t think i’m the drama…
r/AmITheAsshole
u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 9h
(UPDATE) AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)
So, it turns out my cheating ex got catfished. His supposed Discord kitten was actually some random guy and his friend who were dicking around. They ended up leaking the DMs so they’re all public now for those who would like to read them (by now, I’m sure you all know who my cheating ex is). I would highly advise against listening to the rap confession though. Godspeed if you choose to. I am also selling his expensive PC setup on Facebook Marketplace if anyone’s interested. Happy New Year!
P.S. I ended up inviting the cousin over for hot cocoa. He’s very sweet.
⥣ 11.3k ⥥ 2,293 Comments
pissrevolver1122 • 8h
rip bozo got catfished by me n bro for some robux
➥ Reply ⥣ 3.8k ⥥
pooprevolver0205 • 8h
can’t believe bro actually jacked off to a pic of knees LMAO
➥ ⥣ 1.9k ⥥
piss-k1nk0219 • 2h
yall are about to have the awkwardest family get togethers ever lmao
➥ Reply ⥣ 910 ⥥
bigsnowballs0813 • 4h
$5 and an iced coffee for the pc take it or leave it
➥ Reply ⥣ 748 ⥥
femboyluvr0701 • 1h
are u gonna set the cousin's car on fire too
➥ Reply ⥣ 639 ⥥
justgirlythings-arson119 • 1h
probably not he’s very good at putting out fires :(
➥ ⥣ 482 ⥥
pairing: doctor!neighbor! na jaemin x fem.reader
genre & wc: smut, fluff, crack (ish) | 18k
summary: in which your infuriatingly hot neighbor ends up getting your box of sex toys delivered to his door by mistake
content warning: explicit smut, breast play, oral sex (fem.receiving), brief mentions of sex toy usage, teasing, marking, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehaw), alcohol consumption, monster cawwwk jaemin (i didn’t make this up it’s real)
a/n: hiiiii yes yes i know, it’s been forever and ive neglected you all so bad i’m so sorry ! i can’t even use the excuse of being too busy bc i was just in the worst writing slump of my life. but i hope i can make up for all those 10 months of radio silence with this long fic :) also it’s pretty different from what i’m used to writing. for once i wrote it all in lowercase bc i felt like this was lowkey a pretty unserious fic and that was the vibe it required lol it’s also my first time trying to write something “funny” but my humor is not that good still i tried lolz. also i'd like to add that i know as much about doctors as the next person so don't expect much accuracy in that regard. anyways hope you enjoy :)
your leg bounced anxiously as you stared at the photo the delivery guy sent, trying to figure out which door your package had ended up on. every single door in your building was the same plain white with no decoration, no plants, no quirky doormat to offer a clue. just a long, boring hallway of identical doors, and somewhere behind one of them was your package.
"great," you muttered, already feeling the creeping frustration in your chest.
your phone buzzed in your hand, and you barely had time to glance at the screen before answering.
"sooo," came minnie's voice, far too chipper for this disaster, "did you like my gift?”
“i’m gonna strangle you,” you hissed, rubbing your temples.
“woah, you know i’m not into that freaky shit.”
“i’m serious, minnie,” you groaned, dragging a hand through your hair. “the package got delivered to a different apartment. you must’ve put the wrong number on it.”
“no way,” she gasped, already on the defensive. “i literally double-checked. triple-checked, even. it’s apartment 235.”
"what?” you yelled, nearly dropping your phone.
this can’t be happening. out of all the apartments in your building… it had to be that one?
“minnie…” you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm, "it’s 236. apartment 236.”
she paused. “oh.”
you heard her laugh nervously, and it took everything in you not to throw your phone across the room.
“minnie…” you groaned, pressing your forehead against the wall. “i swear, if it’s what i think it is based on our last conversation…” your voice trailed off as a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “my next-door neighbor, minnie. MINNIE. jaemin…oh my god.”
“wait,” she said, voice sharp with interest. “is that the doctor you said is too hot for his own good?”
“i did not say that.”
“you did.”
“no, i said he’s just… a nice sight for my eyes, okay? in a building full of old people, sue me for appreciating the view.” you rubbed at your face. “but i can’t face him if he saw what’s in that package. i just can’t.”
“listen…” minnie drawled. “what if he’s into it, though? think about it.”
“i’m hanging up.”
“no, wait—” but you pressed the red button before she could finish.
the most mortifying experience of your 24 years on this planet, and it hadn’t even fully happened yet. but you could see it clear as day: the box, him opening it innocently, and its contents—oh, god, the contents.
the thing is, you and minnie had a dumb tradition. whenever life got a little too miserable or stressful, you’d send each other gifts. random, stupid stuff. a manga you’d been talking about, or a plushie of your favorite sanrio character. the catch was you could never reveal what it was until it was opened. it was supposed to be a surprise.
except this time, you were sure minnie’s idea of a "surprise" was directly inspired by your recent rants about being, well… frustrated. as in, the sexual kind of frustration. you had a strong hunch about what she’d sent.
you sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. you had two choices: go over there and pray he hadn’t opened it, or stay here and hope the ground swallowed you whole. both seemed equally unlikely.
as you stared at the ceiling, someone knocked on the door.
three soft knocks.
your heart stopped, your body jolting so hard you nearly rolled off the couch. no. no, no, no. not him. please not him.
you tiptoed to the door like a cartoon burglar, eyes wide with panic. don’t answer. if you don’t answer, he’ll just leave it. you could grab it later. it’s fine. everything’s fine.
but as you got closer, you heard the softest shuffle from the other side. he was still there. you peeked through the peephole and there he was indeed… jaemin. your very handsome, very distinguished doctor neighbor. standing there, holding your box.
you backed away from the door like it was about to explode. no, nope, you’d just wait until he—
you bumped into the side table. hard. and in a moment of unfiltered pain, you yelled, “FUCK!” loud enough to echo down the hall.
a long pause.
“hello?” his voice was clear through the door. smooth, polite.
you shut your eyes so tight you saw stars. letting him think you weren’t home was six feet under now.
"just get it over with," you muttered to yourself, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look at destroyed as you felt.
you opened the door with the kind of smile you'd give a police officer who just pulled you over. "oh! good morning, neighbor!" you practically chirped, voice too high, too fake.
he smiled, sleepy but devastatingly handsome. his scrubs hung perfectly off his frame, and his hair was tousled like he'd just came from a long night shift…which he probably did. he had the kind of face that made you think life has favorites.
“morning,” he said, nodding his head. “sorry to bother you so early, but this…” he held up the box, fingers tapping the side of it. tap tap tap your eye twitched. “this got delivered to my place by mistake.”
he was so calm. too calm.
“oh,” you squeaked, your voice barely functional. “uh, yeah! no worries at all! my friend sent it, haha, she’s… forgetful like that. really bad with numbers. haha…” you trailed off. kill me now.
“right,” he said, eyes flicking to the box. “well, here you go.” he held it out to you.
you reached for it but your hands, slick with nervous sweat, betrayed you. the box slipped.
“oh no-”
thud.
everything.
everything spilled out.
time slowed. your heart dropped straight into hell.
boxes. bottles. wrappers.
and then the pièce de résistance.
a sex doll.
a life-size, anatomically correct, male sex doll.
you didn’t know what kind of sound you made, but it was something between a gasp and a whimper. your knees hit the floor as you scrambled to grab everything wishing you could somehow erase the last five seconds of reality.
“oh my god,” you whispered, cramming the boxes into your arms. “oh my god. oh my god.”
“uhm,” he cleared his throat and you didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of face he was making. there were no words for this. none. zero.
“thank you for bringing it to me! bye!” you choked out, voice cracking on the last syllable as you grabbed what you could and slammed the door shut with the force of a hurricane.
you pressed your back to the door, sinking to the floor, arms full of colorful boxes of shame. you stared at them.
a vibrator. a bottle of lube. a very, very anatomically correct doll still half in its box.
"minnie." you said her name like a curse.
your phone buzzed. it was a text from her.
minnie (6:18am): how’d it go?
“hell,” you muttered, tossing your phone across the room.
you sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of embarrassment crushing down on you. moving out suddenly seemed like the only reasonable option. scratch that, you were moving countries. or planets. was mars habitable yet?
♡ ♡ ♡
for the next few days, life was nothing short of miserable. you called in sick to work because there was no way you could leave your apartment and risk running into jaemin. the idea of seeing him again made your stomach twist into knots. to anyone else, it might seem dramatic—after all, owning sex toys wasn’t some scandalous crime—but the sheer context of it all was unbearable.
the cherry on top was that the box had clearly already been opened. jaemin had definitely seen what was inside before you’d even dropped it. and the fact that he just pretended everything was normal while standing there with a straight face? it was almost worse. no, it was worse. because now he probably pitied you for dropping it in front of him even after he tried to save you from the embarrassment.
you groaned, burying your face into the couch cushions. where was the armageddon when you needed it?
you hadn’t left your spot in the couch days, and your body was starting to hate you for it. your back ached from the awkward angle you were lying in, and your stomach growled because you’d panic-eaten the last of your food last night.
“this is pathetic,” you muttered, grabbing your phone.
after scrolling aimlessly for a few minutes, you reluctantly opened your food delivery app. you ordered enough food for at least two days and prayed the delivery guy would bring it to your door. but of course, life hated you, so when you got the “can’t find parking” text, you sighed loudly.
“naturally,” you mumbled, dragging yourself off the couch.
you threw on the most disguising outfit you could find: a black beanie, your puffy winter coat, and oversized sunglasses. did you look like a wannabe celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi? sure. but desperate times called for desperate measures.
you texted the driver a quick be right down and bolted to the elevator, keeping your head low.
when you reached the parking lot, you practically snatched the bag out of the driver’s hands and mumbled a quick thank you before rushing back inside. you were so close to safety now.
you stepped into the elevator and leaned against the wall, finally letting out a sigh of relief. but, as fate would have it, you celebrated just a tad too soon.
just before the doors closed, a hand shot through the gap. you froze.
you smelled him first.
that cologne. you’d know it anywhere.
your heart sank as jaemin stepped into the elevator, looking unfairly handsome as usual. you, on the other hand, looked like a fugitive.
“good afternoon,” he said politely, his voice calm and smooth.
“hi, uh…afternoon,” you mumbled, holding the bag of food up to your face like a shield. maybe if you hid behind it long enough, he wouldn’t notice it was you.
“y/n?”
shit.
you glanced at him reluctantly, offering an awkward laugh. “oh, hey, jaemin… didn’t realize it was you.” you pushed your sunglasses up onto your head. “these things are so dark.”
he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “didn’t recognize you either. are you coming from an event or something?”
you blinked at him, realizing how ridiculous your outfit must look. “oh, no, i—uh… i have a cold,” you stammered. “just trying to stay warm, you know?”
“ah,” he nodded, his expression softening. “well, you should rest up. drink plenty of water and maybe some tea with honey, it helps soothe your throat. oh, and—”
he started rattling off doctorly advice and you could only stare at him, dumbfounded. because, of course, not only was he handsome, but he was kind, too. unfair. completely unfair.
“thanks,” you said, cutting him off before he could get too deep into his list of remedies.
he smiled at you again, and for a moment, you swore your heart skipped a beat. “i was actually a little worried,” he admitted, leaning against the elevator wall casually. “i haven’t seen you around the past few days.”
“oh. uh… yeah,” you said weakly, shifting the food bag in your hands. “just been laying low, don’t wanna get anyone sick.”
“i see,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “you’re not hiding from me, are you?”
your eyes widened, and your breath caught in your throat. was it that obvious?
“what? no! why would i be hiding from you?” you forced out a laugh, but it sounded fake even to your ears.
he raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was fighting a grin. “hmm. just checking.”
“yeah, it’s because of the cold” you muttered, fidgeting with the handle of the food bag. “it’s nothing serious, though. i appreciate the concern.” you tried to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.
“good to hear,” he said, his eyes still on you. “but still, if it doesn’t get better in a few days, you should probably see a doctor.”
“right. definitely,” you nodded quickly, eyes glued to the little numbers above the elevator door, silently willing them to move faster.
but of course, the universe hated you lately. the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, too soon for your floor. you flinched, and before you could even begin to hope it was just a regular stop, the overhead lights flickered once, then twice, and then… nothing.
darkness.
“oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groaned, tilting your head back against the cold elevator wall.
“well,” jaemin’s voice came through the darkness, and you could hear the grin in it, “this is bad timing, huh?”
“this is my villain origin story,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you slid down to sit on the floor. “this is how i finally snap and become one of those people who yell at customer service workers.”
he laughed, and you hated how nice it sounded. like melted chocolate. warm, smooth, and way too easy to get addicted to.
“guess we’re stuck for a bit,” he said, sitting across from you. you could only make out the faintest outline of him in the dim emergency lighting. “not a bad person to be stuck with, though.”
“yeah, lucky you,” you deadpanned, cradling your bag of food.
there was a pause. not an awkward one but it felt somewhat intimate and you didn’t like it. not because you felt uncomfortable but because you were scared of embarrassing yourself further.
“hey,” he spoke up again, softer this time. “about the other day…”
no. absolutely not. this was not happening.
“nope,” you cut him off, waving a hand like you could physically swat the topic away. “we don’t talk about that. ever.”
“but i think we should—”
“we don’t, jaemin,” you said firmly, pointing at him like a scolding parent. “it never happened. you never saw it. i never dropped it. in fact, none of it exists. it was a shared hallucination caused by gas leaks in the building. that’s my story, and i’m sticking to it.”
he snorted, hiding a laugh behind his hand. “gas leaks?”
“yep. toxic fumes. real health hazard,” you nodded, doubling down. “you should probably get management to check that out, doctor.”
“i’m a neurosurgeon, not an HVAC technician,” he shot back, amused.
“same difference,” you muttered.
another pause. you could feel him looking at you, even in the dimness.
“for what it’s worth,” he started slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully, “i wasn’t judging you.”
“good,” you mumbled, picking at a loose thread on your coat. “because i’m not like ashamed of it, just… mortified, you know?” you finally glanced up at him, feeling a little braver in the low light. “there’s a difference.”
he nodded, eyes warm and understanding in a way that made your chest ache. “there is.”
you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall. “i’m moving. i’ve decided.”
he laughed, full and bright. “you’re not moving.”
“i am, actually,” you insisted. “gonna change my name, get a new identity. maybe move to the mountains. live off the grid. it’s the only way.”
“you’re ridiculous,” he said, still grinning.
“you say that like it’s news.”
silence settled over you both again, but this time it was lighter. less suffocating. you could hear him shift, stretching his legs out in front of him. he tapped his fingers against his knees like he was keeping time to a song only he could hear.
“so,” he said after a beat, voice low and casual. “was that, uh… the first time you ordered something like that?”
your whole face went hot.
“jaemin,” you warned.
“what?” he asked, the picture of innocence. “just curious.”
“don’t make me call those toxic fumes back in here,” you threatened, pointing a stern finger at him.
he threw his head back laughing, and despite yourself, you smiled too.
"fine, i won’t bring it up anymore,” he said with a tired smile, rubbing the back of his neck. his fingers pressed into the muscle there, and he winced slightly.
“you okay?” you asked, glancing at him with concern.
“yeah, just a long day at work,” he replied, rolling his shoulder like it’d been bothering him for hours.
“yeah, i can imagine. the life of a doctor must be pretty hectic,” you said, eyes flicking to his hands as they worked over the tense muscle. “but you gotta know your limits too… you’re not made of steel, you know.” there was a hint of worry in your voice, and you tried not to let it show too much, but judging by the way he glanced at you, he caught it.
he looked at you for a moment, longer than usual, before nodding. “you’re right,” he let out a short breath. “i guess i’ve been burying myself in work lately. but it’s hard not to when it’s this time of the year… i’m a pediatric neurosurgeon and too many kids get sick and hurt during the summer.”
“oh, definitely. i’m not even a kid and i always get sick in the summer,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
he laughed at that, his grin easy and genuine. “never too late to have fun during the summer,” he said, leaning back against the elevator wall. “just not too much fun. can’t party too hard with a cold.”
“do i look like the kind of person who parties too hard?” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“hmm,” he tilted his head with a slight (cute) pout. “i wouldn’t know. we don’t know each other that well.” he glanced at you, eyes flicking over you just once before smirking. “but you’re young and pretty, so why not?”
your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought to keep your face neutral. did he seriously just call you pretty so casually like it was a fact of life? the dim lighting of the elevator became your saving grace, hiding the warmth that crept up your neck.
"want a piece?" you asked, anxiously trying to change the subject, raising the bag of fried chicken in your hands. you shook it lightly to emphasize. "i have a feeling we're gonna be stuck here for a while, and it's still warm."
he raised an eyebrow, his grin widening into something a little playful. “don’t mind if i do.”
he moved closer, close enough that your shoulders almost brushed, and you set the bag down in front of you both. “dig in,” you said gesturing with your hands toward the chicken.
“so… you’re a doctor…” you said after a couple minutes of eating in silence.
“last time i checked, yeah,” he replied, glancing over at you with a faint smile.
“so why’d you move into this shabby building with elevators that haven’t been serviced since the stone age?” you asked, pausing to tear into a chicken wing with zero grace or subtlety.
he stared at you, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your question or the feral way in which you were eating.
“i’m a resident, so i don’t make nearly as much as people think. plus, med school debt is no joke. this place fit the budget.”
“oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “sorry if that sounded kinda judgy. people tell me i’ve got a chronic case of big mouth syndrome.”
“it’s fine,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “at least you’re honest.”
“what about you?” he asked, tilting his head toward you.
“me? oh same story, different font. drowning in student debt, and this place was… available,” you said, popping another wing into your mouth.
he nodded, and after that, the conversation picked up, flowing so naturally you forgot you’d technically only been speaking to him for a week. before that you had only shared neighborly greetings in the hallway.
you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until the elevator jolted suddenly, the lights flickering back on with a low, mechanical hum.
by then, the bag of chicken was empty, and you knew more about jaemin than you ever expected to learn in one night.
♡ ♡ ♡
“i thought elevators had some kind of emergency backup power for blackouts,” minnie said, her face pixelated on your phone screen.
“yeah but this building’s like 60 years old,” you muttered, adjusting the camera so she could see you better. you were sitting on the floor, painting your toenails a fresh shade of lavender. “the fact that it even has an elevator is a miracle.”
“true, true,” minnie nodded, chewing on a piece of candy. her eyes lit up suddenly. “by the way, why does your sexy doctor live there? i thought doctors were supposed to be loaded.” she propped her chin on her hand.
“he told me he just started his residency,” you explained, blowing gently on your freshly painted nails. “and he just started a new job at the hospital. they don’t get paid that well when they’re starting out.”
“hmm,” she hummed knowingly. “so you spend a few hours stuck in an elevator with him, and suddenly you’re an expert on the medical field, huh?”
you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “it’s called having a normal conversation, you should try it”
“i’m just saying,” minnie teased, tossing a gummy bear into her mouth. “you went in there hiding from him, and you ended up sharing chicken and life stories. i see you.”
“there is nothing to see,” you shot back, tossing a pillow at your phone screen like she could actually feel it.
“mm-hmm,” she hummed, leaning forward “so, did he mention it?”
“mention what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
“the box,” she said ominously, dragging out the word like it belonged in a horror movie trailer.
you froze. “he tried to,” you admitted, tapping your fingers on the pillow in your lap. “but i shut him down real quick.”
“oho, look at you,” she said, leaning back impressed. “miss assertive, didn’t think you had it in you.”
“i have more pillows to throw, minnie. don’t test me.”
“yeah, yeah, violent tendencies aside,” she waved you off, completely immune to your threats. “i hope this new confidence means you’re finally putting my gifts to use.” she tilted her head with the most innocent smile, which made it all the more sinister.
your face went hot. so, so hot.
“i haven’t,” you lied, voice a little too high.
“liar,” she sang, leaning closer to the camera. “i can see your shifty eyes. you definitely tried it.”
“okay, fine, i did!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “but it was a disaster.”
minnie perked up with curiosity. “oh?”
“yeah, oh,” you repeated, scratching your head. “it just… didn’t hit. it felt weird and i got frustrated, so i just gave up. plus i don’t know where you got that vibrator from but it almost burned my girlypop”
“rookie mistake,” she sighed shaking her head dramatically. “that’s why you need someone with experience to help you out.”
your brows furrowed. “what are you even saying right now?”
“i’m saying,” she grinned like the devil himself, “that you have a perfectly qualified medical professional living right next door. i’m sure dr. mcdreamy wouldn’t mind giving you a consultation.”
you blinked once. “minnie, you’re actually sick in the head.”
“oh, please.” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “he’s hot, he’s single, and you’ve already done half the work. you were sitting there eating fried chicken, and you’re telling me he kept throwing compliments at you? we all know you eat chicken like a truck driver, and he still thought you were pretty. use your resources, babe.”
“he was hungry and stuck. he was probably grateful i offered him food. what else was he supposed to do?”
“it’s so much more than that,” she said, holding up a hand, a clear signal for you to shut up and pay attention. “i know when a man is laying the foundation and trust me, he’s building a whole mansion with your name on it.”
“you’re fully overreacting right now.”
one of minnie's strengths was that she wasn’t one to give up easily. but that also ended up being one of her flaws. you knew for a fact she wouldn’t drop this jaemin thing until she proved he had a thing for you.
“seriously, though,” she continued, leaning in so close her face was the whole screen. “he’s a doctor which means he’s like literally obligated to help people. it’s in the oath or something.”
“your point is..?”
“you know” she raised her brows suggestively “experienced hands, medical precision, and he owes you one for that chicken dinner. it’s the perfect setup.”
“you’re insane… like actually seek help.” you shook your head, trying to sound firm, but you were laughing too much to sell it.
“i’m serious,” she laughed along, “you literally blush whenever you talk about him. oh and you can’t even say his name without smiling.”
“that’s not true,” you said, shifting your position on the couch like that would somehow make your denial more convincing.
“mmhm,” she squinted her eyes, clearly not believing you.
“and for the record,” you added, jabbing your finger at the screen, “not every attractive man i meet is getting sexualized in my head. i’m not a beast.”
“no, you’re just a liar,” she shot back with a wide grin. “be real for like two seconds. i can see you smiling so hard right now.”
“you can’t see anything,” you said, voice sharper now. “it’s the pixelation. your wifi is ass.”
“nice try,” she said, drawing out the words. “i know a bashful grin when i see one.”
“you stress me out,” you muttered, twisting the cap back on your nail polish with a little too much force.
“and yet, you call me every day.” she propped her chin on her palm, smile pure menace.
“i guess i’m a masochist,” you sighed, leaning back on the couch. “tragic, really.”
“mmhm, tragic is right,” she said, eyes narrowing into little crescents. “because now i’m gonna be your maid of honor at this wedding i didn’t even prepare for.”
“goodbye, minnie,” you deadpanned, reaching for the end call button.
“goodbye, future mrs. mcdreamy.” she winked at the camera, and before you could curse her out, she hung up.
you sat there for a second, staring at your phone’s home screen, lips pressed tight.
delusional.
she was delusional.
but that didn’t stop you from thinking about jaemin’s stupid grin. the way he’d looked at you while eating fried chicken, casual but present, like he was really there in the moment with you. the way his eyes lingered, just for a second too long.
you shook your head, shoving the thought away like minnie’s words had wormed their way into your subconscious.
nope.
you capped the nail polish, shoved your phone aside, and focused on literally anything else.
♡ ♡ ♡
over the next few days, something shifted. not in a big, dramatic way but in a way you could feel.
jaemin wasn’t just the polite neighbor you exchanged pleasantries with in the hall anymore. now, every time you saw him, there was this unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air like: we shared fried chicken in a broken elevator for three hours.
this new attitude towards you was giving you whiplash. he was… extra friendly now. he smiled more, spoke to you first, acted like you were both in on some kind of inside joke. it wasn’t bad… but it wasn’t normal either.
“morning, y/n,” he’d say as you both waited for the elevator, eyes crinkling like he’d already thought of something funny.
“morning,” you’d reply, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. the tiles were suddenly fascinating.
but then you’d catch the faintest trace of his cologne—the same one you’d inhaled way too much of in the elevator—and suddenly, the tiles weren’t so interesting anymore. so you’d try to sneak a glance or two, and when he wore his doctor’s coat and glasses, you couldn’t help but ogle. he was so ridiculously handsome. everything about him practically begged for you to admire. his sharp jawline, his dark eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, his lips always pink and effortlessly moisturized, his hair neatly trimmed in the back but just a bit longer in the front, falling perfectly right above his thick brows.
and he had the most captivating smile, so white it almost blinded you, and despite thinking he was the serious type at first, you quickly realized he was incredibly expressive. he communicated so much with just his brows, and it seemed impossible for him to speak without a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. like what was so funny? that you were crushing hard on him and it was kind of disrupting your life?
he was also too relaxed around you. way too relaxed. how was he so calm when he’d seen you in your most unhinged states? meanwhile, you could still feel the ghost of that moment hovering over you like a neon sign flashing "dildo girl spotted."
the third time you ran into him that week, you almost turned around to take the stairs, but you weren’t fast enough.
“caught you,” jaemin said as soon as he spotted you, his grin sharp but not unkind. “thinking of bailing on me?”
you paused like you were actually considering it. “don’t flatter yourself,” you said, walking forward like you’d planned to all along. “the stairs are just bad for my knees.”
“oh, is that right?” he asked, stepping aside with a sweep of his hand. "good thing elevators exist, huh?”
“lucky me,” you muttered, slipping inside. he followed right after, too close for comfort but not close enough to call him out on it.
“lucky me,” he added, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, head tilted just so. "would’ve missed you otherwise."
you had to bite back the cough that almost escaped when he said that, his lazy smile firmly in place like always.
you glanced at him, squinting. "what's with you lately?"
“what do you mean?”
“this,” you gestured at him vaguely. “all this… talking. you weren’t like this before.”
“maybe i just needed an excuse,” he said with a nonchalant shrug “and three hours in an elevator with you was a pretty good one.”
you blinked, momentarily at a loss. what were you even supposed to say to that?
“did you rehearse that?,” you muttered, turning away before he could see the corner of your mouth twitch.
“why, is it too corny? but you’re smiling,” he pointed out, you could hear his smile.
“no, i’m not.”
“you are,” he said confidently, leaning in just a little like he was trying to see it up close. “it’s cute.”
you flinched back, eyes wide. “don’t say that.”
“why not?” he grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself. “it’s true.”
“oh my god.” you turned so far away from him it was a miracle you didn’t phase through the wall. “stop talking.”
“can’t,” he said, all too happy to keep going. “we’re closer now. shared chicken trauma and all that.”
“that is not a thing.”
“it is,” he nodded confidently. “you can’t just sit in a powerless elevator with someone for hours and pretend you’re strangers afterward. that’s, like, scientifically impossible.”
“scientifically impossible?” you repeated, eyebrows raised. “you’re making things up.”
“and here you are listening to all of it,” he shot back, tilting his head toward you, his gaze a little too sharp.
checkmate.
you opened your mouth, ready to respond, but your brain was buffering..
"that’s what i thought," he said, his voice low and too satisfied, just as the elevator dinged.
the doors opened. he didn’t move right away, gaze lingering on you as if he was waiting for something…or maybe just seeing how long you’d hold it.
“you talk too much,” you muttered, stepping out with your head high like you had the upper hand.
“I think you like it,” he called after you, the amusement in his voice so obvious you could practically hear the grin on his face.
your heart did that annoying skip thing, and this time, you didn’t have an excuse for it.
♡ ♡ ♡
things only got worse after that.
jaemin, apparently, had decided that you were fun to mess with now.
he wasn’t over-the-top about it, though. no, he was too smooth for that. he played it cool, weaving little comments and actions into your interactions. a smile that lingered too long, leaning in just a little too close when he asked a question, throwing casual compliments like they didn’t mean anything.
it was unfair, really. he’d gone from the quiet, polite neighbor, the one who worked long shifts at the hospital and mostly kept to himself, to an actual menace in the span of three days. and somehow, you were the target of all of it.
the first time it happened, you brushed it off as coincidence. the second time, you thought maybe he was just being nice because you shared food with him so perhaps he thought that he owed you. by the third time, you realized: this man was having fun at your expense.
“new hair?” he asked casually one evening as you struggled with your keys outside your door.
you froze, glancing up at him in confusion. “what?”
“your hair,” he repeated, nodding toward you. “looks good.”
your brows furrowed. “it’s the same as always,” you muttered, turning back to the lock that was absolutely refusing to cooperate.
“huh.” he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely surprised. “then i guess it’s just you.”
what does that even mean?!
your hands fumbled, and the key slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor.
jaemin’s laugh was soft but unmistakably amused. “you okay there?”
“don’t you have patients to save or something?” you snapped, crouching down to snatch the key off the ground before he even had the chance to get it for you.
“off duty,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall next to you. his smile had that easy confidence you were beginning to associate with him now. “but i’ll step in if you need medical attention. emotional support counts too.”
you groaned so loud it echoed in the hallway. “i swear, i liked you better when you were quiet.”
“oh, you like me?” he asked, his grin widening just enough to make your stomach flip in protest.
“past tense,” you shot back, finally shoving the key into the lock and turning it with more force than necessary.
“if you say so,” he replied, drawing out the word like he didn’t believe you for a second.
“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, turning around with your key in hand, gripping it like a weapon. “how do you live with yourself?”
“one day at a time,” he replied, dead serious.
you shot him a glare as you finally shoved the key into the lock. it turned smoothly this time.
“maybe you should try it,” he added, just as you opened the door.
“try what?” you asked, already regretting engaging.
“living with me,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. he even had the audacity to wink.
you nearly slammed the door in his face.
“goodnight, jaemin,” you snapped, stepping inside.
“sweet dreams, love,” he called after you, his voice warm and smug in a way that lingered.
you closed the door, locked it, and leaned your head against it with a groan that could only be described as deep emotional fatigue.
“then i guess it’s just you.”
you stayed pressed against the door for a little too long, thinking about it.
he’s the worst.
the absolute worst.
♡ ♡ ♡
then came the visiting.
you heard a quiet, rhythmic knock knock knock on your door one night. not frantic, not loud just steady enough to make you pause in the middle of scrolling through your phone.
you frowned. minnie wasn’t the “surprise visit” type, and you definitely hadn’t ordered food. so who…
when you opened the door, he was right there.
jaemin.
he leaned against the doorframe, one arm propped against it, the other tucked into his pocket. his posture was relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with that familiar glint of mischief.
“what do you want?” you asked, gripping the door like it was a shield between you and whatever ridiculousness he was about to say.
“so rude,” he said, mock-offended, though the lazy grin on his face betrayed him. “you invite a guy to share fried chicken once, and suddenly you’re heartless?”
“oh, please.” you stepped back slightly, but you didn’t close the door. “i offered it. don’t act like i saved you from a tragic famine.”
“true,” he agreed, his gaze dropping for a split second, flickering over you like he was trying to catch you off guard. “but since you brought it up, i was thinking about how we never got dessert.”
you blinked, thrown off by the randomness. “what?”
“dessert,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “fried chicken’s great and all, but it’s not a complete meal. we missed out.”
“and what, you came to my door at 9 pm to tell me that?”
“yep.” he rocked back on his heels, completely unbothered. “i figured you owed me by now.”
“owed you?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “for what, exactly?”
“emotional support,” he said, grinning like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “that elevator ride? life-changing experience. bonded for life. it’s only fair you buy me dessert.”
you tried to fight it. you really did. but the laugh slipped out anyway, betraying you.
his grin widened, the kind that wasn’t just smug… it was triumphant.
“fine,” you sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter. “but you’re paying next time.”
“next time?” he echoed, his voice tilting upward just slightly. he leaned forward, close enough that the space between you suddenly felt smaller. “so you’re already planning our next elevator date?”
oh, this man.
“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, pointing a finger at him while you tapped through your food delivery app. “i might close the door on your face next time.”
“you like me too much to do that,” he said softly, and this time his tone wasn’t teasing.
it was smooth, confident, and just low enough to make you glance up without thinking.
your thumb hovered over your screen for a second too long before you forced yourself to break eye contact. you picked the first dessert you saw just to escape the moment and right before you got to pay he snatched the phone from you and put in his card details.
“so annoying,” you muttered.
“gentlemanly,” he replied easily.
“you’re lucky i’m too tired to throw you out,” you shot back, already regretting how much you were letting him get away with.
“lucky?” he asked, smirking. “i’d say you’re the lucky one. who else brings dessert and great company?”
you groaned, loudly, just to drown him out.
♡ ♡ ♡
thirty minutes later, you were sitting side by side on your couch, barely an inch between you, sharing a container of chocolate lava cake like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“don’t hog it,” you grumbled, jabbing at his hand with your spoon when he took an extra-large bite.
“it’s called portion control,” he argued, entirely unapologetic as he went for another.
“it’s called stealing,” you shot back, scooping up a bigger piece just to even the playing field.
“maybe,” he said, glancing at you with that maddening grin. “but you’re letting me get away with it.”
“only because i don’t want to waste food,” you countered, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.
he leaned back slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours in a way that felt too casual to be an accident.
“you’re really bad at lying, you know that?” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make you pause.
you turned to glare at him, spoon still in hand, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you.
he wasn’t grinning anymore. not exactly.
it wasn’t a smirk or a joke or one of those teasing little quips he always threw your way. it was… softer. almost curious.
your heart stuttered before you could stop it.
“and you’re annoying,” you said again, but this time it came out quieter.
his lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh.
“you already said that but i think it loses meaning when you let me hang out with you for this long,” he murmured.
you didn’t reply. you couldn’t. not when the air felt so… different.
so instead, you turned back to the TV, grabbed another spoonful of lava cake, and shoved it into your mouth as an excuse to not say anything.
he chuckled softly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the TV.
♡ ♡ ♡
the next few days went by pretty much the same. whenever you bumped into jaemin in the hallway, the parking lot, or even at the local cafe, his eyes would lock on you like a heat-seeking missile, ready to tease you in a way that you hated to admit was starting to feel oddly enjoyable.
but everything escalated the day minnie came to visit you.
it had been a while since you two last saw each other, given that she lived in a different city. as soon as she arrived, you were buzzing with excitement. but you’d forgotten one crucial thing… minnie had a rare, borderline supernatural ability to drive you absolutely insane.
“i can't believe you had a second chicken date with him and still didn’t jump his bones… have i taught you nothing?” she said, exasperated as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. dawson’s creek reruns were playing in the background, and as if that show didn’t depress you enough, minnie’s relentless criticism of your non-existent love life was making it worse.
“it wasn’t a chicken date,” you groaned. “we had cake. and why would i jump his bones when we’ve only just started speaking more than two words to each other like, last week?”
“you don’t get it,” minnie said, turning to face you with the gravity of someone about to lecture you. “a man doesn’t just knock on your door asking you to have dessert with him unless he has a different idea of what 'dessert' is.” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.
“ew, don’t make that face,” you winced.
“i’m serious, y/n. if you keep shutting down every man that’s interested in you, the only dick you’ll get is that inflatable one i got you.”
“not even,” you sighed, slumping against the couch. “i haven’t taken it out of the box yet. and i won’t. that thing already embarrassed me enough for the next two lifetimes.”
“but if you think about it, if it weren’t for tom, you’d still be secretly crushing on dr. mcdreamy.”
“you did not just name the sex doll tom,” you said, eyes narrowing.
“i think we should at least go out tonight since you’re clearly not gonna put the moves on your sexy neighbor.”
“absolutely not,” you shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “ i’m not about to waste my night talking to any guy who thinks 'intellectual debate' means arguing about protein powder.”
“okay, harsh… no wonder you’re single,” she muttered as she got up and started tapping away on her phone.
“who’re you calling?” you asked, squinting at her suspiciously.
“there’s only one person who can drag you out of this apartment,” she muttered with a sly grin. "hold on—hello? jake? yeah, guess who i’m with right now?" she paused dramatically, glancing at you with a wicked smile. "your favorite girl, obviously!" she snickered, tilting her phone just enough to snap a photo of you mid-protest.
“dude, c’mon, i’m in my grandma pjs right now,” you said, pointing at the flowery pajama top you were wearing.
“how about we meet up at the neo club? yeah? awesome, and bring one of your hot friends,” she added, grinning like a cat that just cornered a bird.
she hung up, looking triumphant, but you folded your arms with a scowl.
“there’s no way i’m going out,” you said flatly.
♡ ♡ ♡
you still ended up going out.
but only because they offered to pay for all your drinks, and who were you to refuse such a generous offer?
it didn’t take long to spot jake. he was already stirring up trouble at the bar, his charm dialed up to 100 as he leaned in close, tossing out some line that had the bartender blushing so hard she had to look away just to keep it together.
“ugh, casanovas make me sick,” you grumbled, scrunching your nose as you watched him.
“stop harassing the lady, jake,” minnie said, grabbing him by the collar and tugging him away from the bar. he turned around with a mock-offended gasp.
“excuse you, she was absolutely enjoying that,” he said with an infuriating level of confidence. he wasn’t even wrong—the bartender was still grinning.
“whatever, tiger. look who’s out of her cave!” minnie announced, shoving you forward slightly.
jake’s eyes lit up the second he saw you. he practically lunged forward, wrapping you in a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.
“no way! my y/n! it’s been, what, four years since i last saw you?” he spun you in a small circle before finally setting you down.
“please don’t be so dramatic. we saw each other last year on your birthday,” you laughed, shoving his chest.
“too long for me, babe. you know seeing you is always a treat,” he said, giving you one of those overly saccharine smiles he knew would make you roll your eyes.
“when are you ever not flirting? is that your default mode? is there any way to reset you?” you said, tapping his forehead like you were trying to reboot a broken phone.
“you know you love it,” he winked, and somehow it was both annoying and charming at the same time.
“anyways, where are the drinks i was promised?” you extended a hand expectantly.
“here you go, princess,” he said, handing you a tequila sunrise with a flourish. “and here you go, troll,” he added, handing minnie a margarita.
“i’ll kill you,” minnie slapped his arm hard enough to make him flinch.
“ow, abuse! abuse!” he cried dramatically, clutching his arm as if he’d been mortally wounded.
“you’ll live,” minnie muttered, taking a sip from her glass.
the night was already off to a wild start, and you had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.
♡ ♡ ♡
“so you’re telling me the box with all the freaky shit minnie sent ended up being delivered to your neighbor?” jake was practically doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “and he opened it?”
“yeah, laugh it up,” you said, unamused as you swirled the straw in your drink before taking a long sip. you’d lost count of how many drinks you’d had, but the warmth in your chest and the slight buzz in your head told you it was definitely more than a couple.
“if i were you, i would’ve moved,” he said, wiping at the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “i’m trying to think of a time i’ve been that embarrassed and not even my drunkest moments come close.” he shook his head like he genuinely felt bad for you, though the grin on his face said otherwise.
“believe me, i tried to avoid him,” you said, gesturing with your drink in hand. “but somehow, after that, he started sticking to me like gum on a shoe.”
“i’m telling you, he wants you!” minnie slurred, her eyes barely staying focused as she swayed slightly in her seat. clearly, she was the drunkest one at the table, her words carrying that telltale wobble of too many cocktails.
“don’t start with that again,” you shot back, tossing a napkin in her direction. “he doesn’t want me. he just likes messing with me because he figured out i’m an easy target.”
“oh, really?” she said, eyes narrowing like she’d just come up with the most brilliant plan. “then call him right now. and if he answers, put him on speaker.”
“like hell i will,” you snorted, glancing at your phone. “it’s-” you checked the time “…literally 3am. why would i disturb him just to prove your silly little theories?”
“coward! coward!” minnie started chanting, slapping the table. jake immediately caught on and joined her, their voices syncing up in a way that only drunk friends could manage. “coward! y/n is a chicken!” they sang in unison, making sure to drag out the last word obnoxiously.
“ugh, why do i have friends like you two…” you muttered, covering your ears as their chanting grew louder. “okay! fine! stop that right now, i’ll text him. once.” you jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis, giving them both a stern glare that did absolutely nothing to dim their excitement.
“what do i even say…” you groaned, staring at your empty chat with jaemin.
“send him a picture,” jake suggested.
you thought about it for a second, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “fine,” you muttered, lifting your phone. fueled by alcohol and peer pressure, you decided on the classic "oops, wrong person" strategy. you snapped a quick selfie, pursing your lips into a kissy face for maximum effect. you didn’t even care that it was blurry or that you looked very obviously drunk. in fact, that made it funnier. you snickered to yourself as you hit send.
“he won’t reply, guys,” you said confidently, tossing your phone onto the table face-down. but barely ten seconds passed before you heard the unmistakable ping of a new message.
“you were saying?” minnie arched a brow, crossing her arms in mock satisfaction.
“it’s probably just some random notification,” you said with a shrug, but your voice wavered as you picked up your phone. you tapped the screen, eyes widening slightly at the name that appeared.
jaemin neighbor (3:02am): ‘thought you weren’t one to party hard?’
the message was punctuated with a little smirk emoji that somehow made it worse.
“what’d he say?” minnie asked, leaning in so far you thought she might topple over.
you barely had time to answer before another message popped up.
jaemin neighbor (3:03am): ‘don’t drink too much though, you’re still recovering from that cold. and don’t let strangers hold your drink.’
your eyes stayed glued to the screen, heart doing an odd little flip that you refused to acknowledge.
“oh my god, he’s worried,” minnie gasped, hands flying to her face. “he’s literally whipped!” she squealed, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you back and forth with unhinged glee.
♡ ♡ ♡
after seeing jaemin's message, you decided you needed to get drunker to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head. by the time you got back to the apartment, your uber driver had to practically haul you out of the car. you were a complete mess, your feet barely cooperating with the ground beneath you. minnie ended up hitting it off with jake’s friend so she decided to leave with him to do god knows what dirty things.
“woah there!” you yelped as you stumbled, nearly falling backward.
“ma’am, what’s your apartment number?” the driver asked. all you could do was laugh and mumble some random string of numbers that didn’t come close to making sense.
“y/n?” a familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind, sharp and clear like a bell. it almost sobered you up on the spot. he was wearing his scrubs and his tired appearance told you that he was coming back from a long shift.
“mr. doctor is here!” you announced with unrestrained glee, throwing your arms up. the sudden movement made you lose balance, and you tilted sideways bumping into the driver.
“you know her, sir?” he asked, his forehead shiny with sweat, clearly desperate for an exit out of this.
“uhm, yeah, she’s my next-door neighbor. i’ll take it from here, thanks,” jaemin said, stepping in with the calm authority of someone who’s seen this exact scenario a dozen times before. with zero effort, he crouched down and hoisted you onto his back, his hands steady under your thighs to keep you secure.
“wheee!” you squealed, your cheek smushed against the back of his head.
“hold on tight, yeah?” he muttered, his tone dry but fond as he adjusted his grip on your legs.
inside the elevator, you got bold. maybe it was the tequila, maybe it was just you accepting your undeniable attraction to jaemin, but your hands found their way to his arms. you gave his biceps an experimental squeeze and then hummed, thoroughly impressed. “do all doctors got big, muscular arms or just you?” you asked, squeezing again as if conducting a very important scientific investigation.
jaemin’s lips twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. “do you always get this touchy when you’re drunk?” he replied, shifting you slightly higher on his back.
“oh wow, you smell so good,” you said, burying your nose in his hair. “like… like one of those fancy candles you’re not supposed to light cause they’re too expensive.” you giggled against his head, completely oblivious to the way his ears flushed pink at the compliment.
“i told you not to drink too much,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “this is dangerous, you know.”
“sorryyyyyy,” you whined, dragging out the word. “but you know what they say about alcohol… uh, ‘wine before whiskey, you’re feelin’ frisky’?” you squinted, clearly thinking very hard.
jaemin tilted his head, giving you a side-eye full of disbelief and amusement. “that’s absolutely not the saying,” he said, his voice low and warm with a hint of laughter.
“no?” you pouted. “then it’s… ‘drinks before thoughts, memories get lost!’” you declared with absolute confidence.
he let out a full, genuine laugh, his shoulders shaking under you as he carried you down the hallway. “close enough,” he muttered.
♡ ♡ ♡
in front of your door, you squinted at the digital lock like it had personally wronged you. you pressed one button, then another, and frowned when the screen blinked angrily. your brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and trying to remember your code right was harder than trying to solve a riddle while underwater.
“ugh, whatever,” you groaned, letting out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the floor, legs sprawled out.
“what are you doing?” jaemin's voice came from above, and when you tilted your head back, you saw him crouched in front of you, eyebrows raised.
“can’t remember the code, so m’ sleeping here. duh,” you replied with the kind of lazy confidence and lack of urgency only drunk people have. you reached out and booped him on the nose simply because he looked cute like a bunny in your inebriated mind.
he blinked, clearly thrown, before a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “no, you’re not,” he said, shaking his head. he stood up, offering his hand. “come on.”
“ugh, fiiine,” you groaned, letting him pull you up, though you were basically dead weight. he slipped an arm around your waist to steady you, and the warmth of his hand pressed against the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. the touch was casual but it sent a sharp jolt of awareness through you.
you bit your lip to distract yourself from the sudden rush of heat. blame it on the alcohol. definitely the alcohol.
“i never sleep in a guy’s apartment ‘til…” you held up your hand and started counting on your fingers, lips moving as you mumbled to yourself. “like the 6th date.”
“that so?” jaemin glanced at you, his voice raspy in a way that made something flip in your stomach.
“mmhm,” you hummed, leaning your weight against him. “gotta have rules, y’know? safety first.”
“you’re not wrong,” he replied, guiding you toward his door with slow, careful steps. “but that logic’s got a flaw, don’t you think?”
you squinted up at him, skeptical. “what flaw?”
“you’re here with me, and we’re not even on date three,” he said simply, giving you a pointed look.
you tried to ignore the fact that he considered the elevator and that night at your apartment as dates.
“that’s different,” you countered, waving a hand like that somehow made you right.
he glanced down at you, eyes sharp but soft in the way they flickered across your face. “how?”
you blinked, suddenly too aware of the space between you two — or the lack of it. his arm was firm around your waist, and you could feel the rise and fall of his breathing.
“you tell me, doc,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes.
there was a brief silence, just the quiet hum of the hallway lights and the soft shuffle of your feet. his fingers curled slightly against your hip, the pressure grounding but gentle. when he spoke again, his tone had shifted — quieter, steadier.
“i’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said, voice sure like a promise. his eyes met yours, serious in a way that knocked the air right out of your lungs.
you didn’t have a quick comeback for that one.
he held your gaze for a moment longer before clearing his throat, eyes flicking away. “anyway,” he said, his voice back to its usual steady calm, “you can sit for a bit. i’ll get you some tea and food, sober you up.”
“huh?” you blinked, your tipsy mind still trying to catch up after that intense moment you just shared.
“sit,” he repeated, guiding you toward the couch like you were a stubborn cat. “tea. food. you’ll thank me later.”
you flopped onto the couch with zero grace, still buzzing from everything.
your head was throbbing, but that wasn’t half as uncomfortable as the rapid thumping of your heart against your chest. it wasn’t normal. it couldn’t be normal. you pressed a hand to your chest like that might somehow slow it down.
“what is this…” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back against the couch.
you were spiraling, no doubt about it. overthinking everything. it’s just jaemin, you reminded yourself. your neighbor. your kind neighbor. of course he’d say stuff like that. he’s a good person, and good people say things like "i’d never hurt you" all the time, right? it didn’t mean anything. didn’t mean a single thing.
calm down, y/n.
you blew out a slow breath, trying to trick your heart into believing you were unbothered.
jaemin came back moments later, a cup of tea in one hand and a small plate of buttered toast in the other. he’d ditched his jacket, now in just a fitted black t-shirt and scrub pants. you weren’t sure what was more distracting… the way the fabric clung to his chest and arms, or the way the veins in his forearms stood out as he set the plate down. you stared a little too long, gaze following the flex of his muscles.
he’s just a guy, you thought, just a guy with arms that look like they were carved out of marble.
“okay, drink this,” he said, nudging the tea toward you. his voice had slipped into his "doctor tone", soft but firm, like he fully expected to be obeyed. “you’ll feel better. if you feel dizzy or like you’re gonna throw up, let me know. i’ll go shower real quick, and you can shower after.”
he disappeared into his room before you could respond
you sat there for a second, letting the silence settle around you. without him there, you finally took a proper look at his place. it was weirdly nice for a building as old and shabby as this one. sleek, modern furniture, spotless floors, a faint scent of something woodsy and clean. candles lined the windowsill, and he had an at-home gym tucked neatly in one corner.
of course he does, you thought, he’s probably too busy saving lives to hit a real gym.
you bit your lip, remembering the way his arms had felt around your waist. the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of your shirt. and now, after seeing how built he actually was, it was starting to make a lot more sense.
“ugh, stop it,” you muttered, shaking your head. it was just the alcohol messing with you. that, and the fact that you were definitely ovulating because there was no way you’d be acting like this otherwise. the combination was lethal.
you reached for the tea, eager for something to snap you out of your head, but the second you took a sip—
“ah—!” you yelped, dropping the cup. hot liquid splashed onto the floor, the mug clattering after it. thankfully, it missed your legs but your tongue throbbed like you’d just bitten into molten lava.
“shit,” you hissed, sticking your tongue out like that might cool it down.
“what happened?” jaemin’s voice came from the bathroom, sharp with concern.
“‘s fine!” you tried to call back, but with your tongue still stinging, it came out garbled. “ihz ohkaay!”
the sound of the shower stopped. you barely had a second to panic before jaemin burst into the living room, dripping wet, a loose towel slung dangerously low on his hips.
you froze.
oh.
oh my god.
if this were an anime, you’d have shot out a nosebleed so powerful it’d blast you into another dimension.
“what happened?” he asked, eyes darting to the mess on the floor, then back to you. he crouched beside you, eyes scanning you likely looking for injuries. water dripped from his hair, trailing down the sharp planes of his face, his chest, his abs…
his abs.
your gaze locked on the V-line that dipped beneath the edge of his towel, and your brain short-circuited. every coherent thought you’d ever had dissolved on the spot. you didn’t even realize you’d spoken aloud until you heard your own voice.
“oh my god.”
jaemin blinked, eyebrows drawing together in worry. “what?”
“n-nothing!” you stammered, face heating faster than the tea had. you slapped a hand over your eyes like that might erase the image from your mind. it did not. it was burned in.
he frowned, his puppy-dog concern on full display. “i’m sorry, i should’ve warned you the tea was hot.” his gaze shifted to your tongue, still sticking out as you tried to cool it with air. his frown deepened.
“izzokay,” you said, or at least tried to. with your tongue swollen and numb, it sounded more like “iz okeh, iz my fauwt.”
“hold on,” he said, his tone dropping into doctor mode. “stay put. you might cut yourself on the glass.”
he moved with quick precision, ducking into the kitchen and coming back with a towel and some paper towels to clean up. you, unfortunately, had nothing to do but sit there and watch him. and watch him you did.
the way his muscles shifted under his skin with every movement. the flex of his back, the dip of his hips, the subtle pull of his abs as he crouched to pick up shards of glass. you sat there like a fool, cheeks blazing, unable to look away.
he could model for anatomy textbooks, you thought, completely mesmerized. like, imagine turning to page 47 and seeing this man labeled as "muscular system: front view."
every part of him moved with that annoying grace certain people just had. the kind of grace that was only possible when you were stupidly, unfairly attractive.
he wiped the floor clean and tossed the paper towels aside, giving one final glance at the spot to make sure there wasn’t a single shard left behind. then he turned to you.
“all clear,” he said, standing to his full height. the towel on his hips slipped slightly lower, and your gaze shot to the ceiling so fast you almost got whiplash.
“thanks,” you muttered, trying to keep your eyes anywhere but there. you still saw it in your peripheral vision.
he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “you sure you’re okay?”
am i okay? absolutely not. your tongue was burnt, your pride was in pieces, and your brain was playing a slow-motion highlight reel of his abs. you were the furthest thing from okay.
“yep,” you croaked, voice cracking at the end.
“here you go,” he said, handing you a glass of cold water. “it should help your tongue.”
“thanks,” you mumbled, cradling the glass with both hands. you refused to look directly at him, eyes darting everywhere in the room. the slow drip of condensation on the glass suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world.
“are you hot? you’re sweating,” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze landing on you with that soft concern he wore too easily.
you nearly spat the water back out. of course you were hot. this whole situation was hot. the room was hot. he was hot.
“it’s fine,” you blurted, shaking your head a little too quickly. “i’ll just shower.”
“yeah, sure. go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the hallway. “bathroom’s the door on the left.”
he glanced down at you, eyes flickering over your dress just briefly. instinctively, you tugged at the hem like that would magically make it longer. you should’ve known minnie was setting you up when she called this look “casually dangerous.”
“your clothes…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “they don’t look super comfortable to sleep in, so if you want, i can lend you something.”
there was no reason for your heart to leap into your throat the way it did. it was a normal offer. a completely normal, helpful offer. but your brain decided to be weird about it. suddenly, you were picturing yourself in one of his shirts, fabric hanging loose on you, the scent of detergent and him faintly clinging to it. god, you needed help.
“okay,” you said, trying to sound normal, but it came out too fast.
“i’ll grab them for you,” he said, already heading toward his room.
as soon as he disappeared, you collapsed against the couch, exhaling hard like you’d just survived a boss fight. you dragged your hands down your face, letting out a muffled groan.
“pull it together,” you hissed at yourself.
walking into the bathroom didn’t help. the warmth hit you instantly, soft steam curling in the air. it smelled like aftershave and clean skin, and if there was a single coherent thought left in your brain, it got drowned out by the sensory overload.
“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back with a groan. “what am i, thirteen?”
the mirror was fogged up, so you wiped at it with your sleeve, only to be faced with your own reflection staring back at you like girl, really? you pressed your hands to your cheeks, feeling the warmth that had nothing to do with the steam.
“i’m normal,” you announced firmly to no one but yourself.
except you weren’t, and you knew it. it wasn’t just the alcohol making your brain short-circuit anymore. you were sober now, and this was just you being ridiculous. the neatly folded clothes on the counter didn’t help. a plain white shirt and a pair of sweatpants sat there, fresh and clean.
you eyed the sweatpants, then glanced down at your legs, already knowing how this was gonna play out. still, you gave it a shot, pulling them up your legs after taking a (very) long shower. unsurprisingly, they swallowed you whole, the cuffs dragging behind you. yeah, no. you’d trip over yourself in less than a minute. sighing, you snatched up the shirt instead and pulled it over your head. it slipped down past your hips, the sleeves flopping well past your hands, turning them into little paw-like stubs.
“this will have to do,” you decided with a sharp nod to yourself.
when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, jaemin was lounging on the couch, scrolling on his phone. his gaze flickered up at you, and for a split second, he just blinked, eyes tracking down your frame before quickly darting back to his phone.
“where are the pants?” he asked, lips quirking up just slightly at the corner.
“too big,” you said.
“hmm” he hummed, looking up and letting his gaze drag just a little slower this time, eyes sharp with mischief. his tongue pressed against his cheek, a lopsided grin threatening to break free. “i see”
if your heart was pounding before, it was in full percussion solo mode now. but you just flopped down beside him, acting like everything was cool, like you weren’t hyperaware of every inch of bare skin peeking out from under the too-big shirt.
you glanced at the clock on the wall — 4:30 a.m. blinked back at you in dim red light. too late to be awake but too early to call it morning. your eyes shifted to jaemin, and you could see the weight of exhaustion hanging on him. his blinks were slower, his body slouched deeper into the couch cushions.
“jaem…” the nickname slipped out without warning, soft but certain. his eyes lifted to you immediately.
“you can go to sleep. i’m fine,” you said with a small smile, hoping it was convincing. “and… thank you. for everything. you’re too nice to me.”
his gaze lingered on you, steady and unguarded, like he was committing you to memory. then, his lips curved slowly into a smile. not his usual teasing grin but something gentler, sweeter. it hit you square in the chest, and you had to physically fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him.
you did not win that fight.
instead, you moved on instinct… leaning in and wrapping your arms around him. the moment you did, you panicked. it felt stiff, clumsy, like you’d misread the whole situation. you were just about to pull away when his arms slid around your waist, slow but sure.
he pulled you in, pulled you all the way in, until you were practically draped over him. your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding so hard you swore he could feel it.
his head dipped down, face tucked into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath hit your skin in soft bursts, and his hold on you tightened just a little more.
“it’s my pleasure,” he murmured, voice low and raspier than it had been all night. his lips brushed against your collarbone as he spoke, “always.”
good god, you nearly let out a sound you’d never be able to live down. every nerve in your body was on high alert. it had been so long since you’d been held like this.
his nose nudged against your neck lazily. you felt the butterflies in your stomach riot, wings frantic against your ribs.
“jaem…” you said, but it came out too soft, too breathless to sound like an actual warning.
“you smell good,” he muttered, voice all sleep and satisfaction. “you always smell good.” he breathed you in.
lord, have mercy.
“i think we should both sleep,” you murmured, but neither of you moved. neither of you even thought about moving.
“yeah,” he said, voice low and uneven.
“yeah,” you echoed, but it sounded less like agreement and more like an excuse for staying right where you were.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, but his arms stayed firmly around your waist. his eyes flickered down to your lips. on reflex, you wet them with a quick swipe of your tongue, suddenly self-conscious. his gaze darkened and you swore you felt the shift in the air.
“stop me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
but stopping him didn’t even cross your mind. not when he was looking at you like that. not when his face inched closer, closer…
his lips met yours softly at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide. you decided quickly. your hands slipped into his hair, pulling him in as you kissed him back with everything you’d been holding in all night.
he responded instantly. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you in place, deepening the kiss until it wasn’t soft anymore.
his other hand found your hip, gripping you firmly as he shifted you on top of him, his touch guiding you like he knew exactly where he wanted you to be. dangerous. this was so, so dangerous.
because you were only wearing that stupidly oversized shirt and the flimsy scrap of underwear underneath it. and when you settled fully onto his lap, you felt everything.
he must’ve felt it too, because his breath stuttered, and a needy groan escaped him, muffled against your lips. you felt it vibrate through your whole body, made you shiver as if he’d pressed his mouth to your spine instead.
his hand on your hip squeezed, fingers digging in just a little harder.
the kiss grew messier, wetter, breaths and tongues tangled together in a way that felt far past the point of no return. it didn’t help that his other hand left your neck, sliding down, fingertips trailing along your side before slipping under the hem of the shirt.
his hand slid up and up until…
he froze the second he realized. his palm pressed against bare skin, no bra, no barrier. you felt his breath hitch at the same moment you heard it.
“fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, his voice rougher now, heavier. his fingers spread wide, covering as much skin as he could reach, his palm warm and steady against your ribs.
and when his thumb brushed up, grazing just barely under the curve of your breast, the sound you made was far too needy. his gaze flicked back up to yours. like he was asking. like he was giving you one last out.
you didn’t take it.
his hand moved again, bolder this time. his palm slid over the curve of your breast, warm and firm, fingers curling around it as if it belonged to him. you sighed at the contact, eyes fluttering closed as your head tipped forward. it wasn’t enough. you didn’t know what “enough” would be, but it wasn’t this.
he must’ve felt it too, because his other hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles. he tilted your face up, and for a moment, you thought he’d kiss you again. you tilted toward him, lips parting, but he had other plans.
instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips just beneath your ear. the warmth of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could even process that, he was moving lower. he kissed his way along your neck, slow and steady, with the kind of patience that made your heart feel like it was on a countdown.
and then the kisses changed. his teeth grazed your skin, his lips sealed over the spot, and he sucked hard enough to make you gasp. your hands flew up, gripping at his shoulders as he trailed love bites down to your collarbones, marking you in a way that felt possessive, the kind you’d see after he was gone.
“jaemin,” you whispered, your fingers digging into his shirt. his name barely sounded like a name anymore.
his only answer was a low hum against your collarbone, his hand still working under your shirt. his fingers traced lazy lines along the sensitive skin beneath your breast, and just when you thought he was going to stay gentle, he pinched your nipple between his fingers.
you gasped sharply, hips jolting forward on reflex. “oh—”
he didn’t stop. he rolled it slowly between his fingers, feeling out every little reaction you gave him, every twitch and shiver. your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, and the way he smiled against your neck told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
instinct took over before you could think it through. your hips rocked forward against his lap — once, twice — chasing relief from the ache that had been building low in your stomach for too long. you felt the slickness between your thighs, hot and damp, soaking through the thin fabric of your underwear and seeping onto his sweatpants.
he felt it too. you knew he did from the sharp intake of breath he took, from the way his hands squeezed tighter his fingers digging into your hip, his other hand cupping your breast with just a little more pressure.
“fuck,” he groaned, head falling forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. his hips shifted beneath you, his arousal impossible to miss now. he was hard, and every roll of your hips dragged against him perfectly, making him curse under his breath.
the heat of it all was unbearable, and you had no one to blame but yourself. but at this point, did it even matter?
he lifted his head, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded. his gaze flickered from your face to where your hips met his lap, his tongue darting out to wet his lips
“i don't know how much longer i can hold back…” his voice was strained.
you blinked down at him, heart thudding hard against your ribs. every nerve in your body felt like it had been lit on fire, but somehow, you still managed to smile.
“who told you to hold back?”you said, voice soft but sure.
“shit…” he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, guiding them down against him with a deliberate pressure that had your breath hitching in your throat.
it wasn’t just you moving anymore. he was moving you, rocking you back and forth against him faster, tired of pretending you weren’t both desperate for it.
your head tipped back as a broken moan spilled from your lips. the friction was too good, just the right amount of pressure to have your thighs trembling. the heat between you had gone from warm to blistering, every grind making you more sensitive, more aware of the damp mess you were both making between his sweatpants and your underwear.
his eyes locked on you, not wanting to miss a single second of it… the arch of your back, the part of your lips, the way your breath caught every time you sank down a little harder.
“look at you,” he breathed, voice rough and half-laughing. “getting this worked up over a little humping”
you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “i’m clearly not the only one,” you shot back breathlessly..
his lips were back on you in an instant, rougher than before, all teeth and tongue. his hands slid up your back, under his shirt you were wearing, fingers dragging against bare skin. his nails scratched lightly at your spine, sending chills down your whole body, and you gasped into his mouth.
he didn’t let you pull away. his lips chased yours, like he’d been starving for this, like now that he’d had a taste, there was no way he was stopping. he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and your body moved on instinct, hips rolling harder against him.
“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, head falling back against the couch as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. his hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tight as if to ground himself, but all it did was spur you on.
you leaned forward, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, biting just enough to feel him shudder beneath you. his pulse was wild under your lips, and when you grazed your teeth against it, his hips bucked up so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs.
“you’re making it so hard to be soft right now,” he said through gritted teeth, head tipped back, neck bared for you like an invitation. his eyes flicked down to where you sat on him, where the line between you two had blurred so badly it didn’t seem to exist anymore.
“then don’t be,” you whispered against his ear, biting down on the lobe just to hear him curse again. “nobody asked you to be soft.”
that was all it took. his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with purpose. his next move was fast—you were on your back before you could register it, his body hovering over you, his weight pressing you down in a way that made your heart race in your chest.
his eyes met yours, pupils blown wide, hair falling into his face. he looked like a mess and it was perfect.
“say that again,” he said, voice nothing but gravel and breath. his hands slid up your thighs, pushing them apart, the slow drag of his touch enough to make you squirm. “say it again so i know you mean it.”
your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and you reached up, fingers threading through his hair.
“nobody,” you whispered, tugging his head down just enough to make sure he heard you, “asked you to be soft.”
for a second, he didn’t move. just stared down at you like he’d never wanted anything more in his life than to eat you up.
then he leaned in, and when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t soft or tentative or testing the waters. it was raw, hungry, and so deep it knocked the air out of you. his hands moved with purpose, sliding up your thighs, pushing his shirt higher and higher until the air hit bare skin.
everything was heat and pressure and need. he was all you could feel, all you could hear — his breath heavy and uneven, his name falling from your lips like it was the only word you knew.
and when he finally pressed his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut like he was fighting to hold himself together, you knew you’d both already lost.
the next thing you know, his hands are tugging your shirt up and over your head, the fabric barely brushing past your arms before it’s gone. the cold air hits your skin for half a second before jaemin’s mouth replaces it, hot and relentless as he traces the curve of your collarbone, his lips dragging lower, slower.
when his mouth finally closes around your right breast, it’s warm and wet and just enough to have you mewling. his tongue flicks over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just lightly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight down to your core.
his free hand slides lower, fingers trailing down your stomach, over your hip, and slipping beneath the waistband of your lace underwear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he moves without hesitation, fingers seeking out the slick mess waiting for him, and the second he finds it, he lets out a low, rough groan against your skin.
“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters, pulling off your breast with a slick pop, his breath fanning across your skin. he glances down between your legs, his gaze so heavy you feel it like a touch. his eyes darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like he’s hungry just looking at you.
he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, dragging them down in one slow pull, eyes locked on you like he’s scared to blink and miss it. the fabric barely makes it past your knee before he’s already looking back up at you, his pupils blown wide, lips parted with the kind of need that makes your chest feel too tight.
“let me eat you out,” he says, and his voice is rough and desperate.
you bite your lip like you’re thinking it over, but you know you’re going to say yes. you just like seeing him like this — all unsteady and breathless, too far gone to hide it.
“please,” he says again, this time more ragged, his voice cracking at the end like he might actually lose it if you make him wait any longer.
“okay,” you say, and it’s all he needs.
he’s on you in a heartbeat, sliding down your body so fast it’s dizzying. his hands are firm on your thighs, pulling them apart, spreading you wide until there’s nowhere left to hide. his gaze flicks up one last time, meeting yours like he’s checking, like he’s giving you one last chance to stop him.
but you don’t. you won’t.
he presses his fingers to your folds, parting you slowly, exposing everything to him, and the breath he takes is deep, like he’s savoring the moment before the fall.
then he leans in.
his nose brushes against you first, just a soft nudge that has your hips twitching on instinct. then his tongue follows in one long, slow drag from bottom to top that has your breath stuttering in your chest. his grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your skin like he’s steadying himself as much as you.
he moans against you, a deep, satisfied sound that you feel as much as hear, and his tongue dives back in, licking at you like you’re his favorite thing to taste. the movements are slow at first, deliberate, his tongue exploring every part of you like he’s trying to figure out exactly what makes you fall apart.
and you are falling apart.
your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting as you let out a shaky, breathless moan. your hips twitch up, and his hands are right there to hold you down, keeping you still as his tongue moves with more certainty, more purpose, licking you with long, messy strokes that make you gasp.
his mouth doesn’t slow, if anything, it grows more determined. his tongue moves with precision now, circling that sensitive spot before flicking against it in quick, teasing bursts that have your hips jumping despite his firm grip.
“fuck, jaem—” your voice breaks on his name, your hands gripping the sides of the couch, searching for something, anything to ground yourself. but there’s nothing. nothing but him, his mouth, the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat building low in your stomach.
he groans again, the vibration shooting through you, his tongue flattening against you before he drags it up,
“taste so sweet,” he murmurs into you, his voice muffled, every word spoken straight into your skin.
“could stay here all night.”
the heat in your belly twists tighter at that, something about the way he says it, like he means it, like he’d ruin himself for this… for you. you’re already too close, and he knows it. he can feel it in the way your thighs tense, in the way your breath catches and your hips press up into him like you’re chasing something you can’t quite reach.
he hums in satisfaction, his lips wrapping around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking just once, just enough to make your whole body jolt.
“god, jaem, i’m—” you don’t even finish the sentence before it hits you, crashing over you in waves so intense you forget how to breathe. you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth falling open on a silent cry as the pleasure hits you all at once, white-hot and overwhelming. he doesn’t let up, his tongue flicking against you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body.
your fingers find his hair, tugging hard, half to ground yourself and half to make him stop because it’s all too much. he groans at the pull, but it only seems to spur him on, his hands tightening on your hips, keeping you pressed against his mouth.
“jaemin,” you say it firmer this time, tugging again, and finally, finally he pulls back, his lips and chin shiny with evidence of what he’s done.
“couldn’t help myself,” he says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth like he’s savoring every last bit of you. his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, his hair a mess from where you tugged at it.
“you look so pretty when you cum,” he says, voice low and husky, and you hate the way your heart lurches in your chest as if he’s just said something sweet.
“you’re crazy,” you mutter, still catching your breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead.
“crazy for you,” he fires back, grin widening like he knows how corny it is and says it anyway.
and for some reason, it makes you laugh. a soft, breathy thing you can’t hold back.
in one smooth motion, he’s crawling back up your body, his hands framing your face as he settles his weight over you. his lips press to yours, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. reminding you exactly where that mouth has just been. you taste yourself on him, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.
“not done with you yet,” he says against your lips, his hips pressing down against yours, and fuck, you feel how hard he is, the thick, solid pressure pressing right where you need it.
“then don’t stop,” your fingers slide down his back, nails scraping lightly.
he flashed a wicked grin, and before you could process it, you let out a startled squeal as he hoisted you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. his arms were firm around your legs, his shoulder pressing into your stomach, and you could feel the strength in every stride as he carried you from the living room to his bedroom.
"jaemin!" you protested, your fists lightly tapping his back, but it only made him chuckle.
"keep squirming, baby. see where that gets you," he teased.
he laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. the cool, fresh scent of his sheets surrounded you, soft fabric meeting warm skin. it was a fleeting comfort, though. you both knew they wouldn’t stay this neat for long.
jaemin peeled off his shirt with one smooth motion, revealing the sharp lines of his chest and the taut muscles of his stomach. you bit your lip as he kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him in just his boxers. his gaze was locked on you, dark eyes brimming with heat and amusement, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.
you watched mesmerized as he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fingers searching until they found a small foil packet. he ripped it open with practiced ease, and when the condom rolled out into his palm, your eyes widened.
"that’s not the right size," you blurted out, half-laughing. "no way."
his eyebrows lifted, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "oh? wanna bet?"
then his boxers hit the floor.
oh.
your breath caught in your throat as your eyes dropped, taking in the sight of his dick. heat flooded your face. what the hell.
“close your mouth, baby,” he said, smirking. “unless you’re planning to put it to use.”
"shut up," you muttered, glancing away, cheeks blazing. "are you gonna do it or not?"
“do what?” he asked innocently, even as he climbed onto the bed, caging you in with his body. he hovered just above you, his grin infuriatingly smug.
“you know what.”
“hmm. don’t think i do,” he murmured, eyes dropping to your lips. “wanna say it for me, pretty girl?”
you pressed your lips together, heart thudding in your chest harder every second. you could feel the weight of him, his warmth, the tension that hung in the air like a live wire.
“fuck… me, jaem,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “louder, baby. i know you can be louder.”
he wasn’t wrong. flashes of earlier moments filled your mind, the way you were moaning and whimpering definitely wasn’t quiet. you swallowed the last bit of your hesitation.
“fuck me. please.”
he hummed, satisfied, his grin softening as he hooked his hands behind your knees and tugged you down toward him. you let out a quiet gasp, suddenly flat on your back, with him positioned directly above you. his body hovered just close enough that every shift of movement made you feel him.
your eyes flickered up to his face, and for a second, he wasn’t teasing anymore. his gaze was steady, searching, his eyes dark but kind. he reached out, fingertips tracing your jawline with such tenderness it made you ache in a different way.
“you okay, baby?” he asked softly, letting you know he’d stop everything if you said no.
your heart swelled at the care in his voice.
you nodded, fingers curling around his shoulders.
he leaned in, close enough for his breath to fan across your face. “need words, love.”
“i’m okay, jaem,” you said more firmly, gazing up at him.
his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer before he nodded. he took a pillow and carefully placed it behind your lower back
"good girl," he murmured.
he shifted, his hands steady on your hips, grounding you as he lined himself up. the anticipation coiled tightly in your stomach, a nervous, thrilling buzz. you felt him prodding at your entrance, he swiped his tip up and down, the action made you clench in anticipation. he eased in, inch by inch, the stretch stealing every ounce of air from your lungs.
his head dropped, forehead pressed against yours, jaw tense as his eyes squeezed shut. a soft curse left his lips. “fuck, so… so tight,” he groaned, his voice wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still.
the moans spilling from your lips mixed with his name, coming out soft and unrestrained. every inch of him felt like too much, the kind of stretch that made your breath catch and your nails press into his shoulders. it had been so long since you'd had sex that you'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and even back then, no one had ever filled you like this. jaemin was thicker, longer, and the difference was impossible to ignore.
"baby, if you keep squeezing me like that…" he laughed breathlessly, his fingers drawing slow, steady circles on your hip like he was trying to soothe you. “i might not make it all the way in.”
“s’rry, you’re… just too big,” you muttered, voice coming out more wrecked than you intended.
he bit down on his lip, eyes flicking down to where you were connected. the sight alone was about to undo him. "yeah?" he breathed, a little too satisfied with himself. his hand slid up, fingers pressing into your waist just a bit harder, grounding you in place as he pushed in deeper.
the pressure was overwhelming, every slow inch making you feel like you might fall apart right there beneath him. and the deeper he went, the more you swore you wouldn’t last long. the tight, aching pull in your stomach was already coiling up, twisting tighter with every second.
“you okay?” his voice was softer this time, the restraint obvious in how still he stayed once he’d finally bottomed out. his forehead pressed lightly to yours, lips hovering just close enough to brush your skin.
“mhm,” you nodded quickly, legs shaking around him.
“words, baby,” he said, and his fingers tilted your chin so you’d look at him.
“i’m okay, jaem. just…just move, please,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
"since you asked so nicely," he said with a grin that was all teeth and trouble. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher against his sides. his hips pulled back, just enough for you to feel every inch of him drag out slowly, before he pushed back in.
the breath punched out of you. you didn’t even have time to recover before he was doing it again, sharper, testing just how much you could handle.
"god, you’re taking me so well, princess," he groaned, eyes flicking down to where your bodies connected. his hands slid up your sides, the warmth of his touch a sharp contrast to the way he was slamming into you. "like you were made for me."
“jaem-” his name was the only thing you could manage, high-pitched and broken. your head tipped back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut, but that only made everything feel sharper.
“what's that?” he asked, voice rough as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. "love it this much, huh?"
you didn’t answer, didn’t need to. he could hear it in every shaky breath, feel it in the way your body reacted to him.
his mouth was on yours a second later, messy and hot, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip before his tongue slid past it. he didn’t kiss you so much as claim you, taking everything you gave and then some. your fingers knotted in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to. the sounds between you were wet, frantic, each one making the coil in your stomach twist tighter.
you were close… so, so close.
but then he pulled away again, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss. before you could even think to complain, he grabbed your hips, flipping you over like it was nothing. your cheek pressed into the pillow, hips lifted, and you barely had a second to brace yourself before he was back inside you.
the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. it was deeper now, sharper, because he’d found a whole new spot to ruin you from. your fingers dug into the pillow, muffling the sounds spilling from your mouth, but even that wasn’t enough. the angle had you seeing stars, the kind of pressure that made your legs shake with every thrust.
“feel that?” his voice was right at your ear, low and rough. “feels different, doesn’t it?”
you nodded frantically, too gone to answer, but that wasn’t good enough for him. his hand slipped up, tangling in your hair, gently tugging you up just enough so he could hear you.
“talk to me, baby.” his voice was a rasp now, barely hanging on. "tell me how it feels."
“s’good…so good, jaem,” you gasped, words rushed and jumbled but still clear enough. "i’m- i’m gonna…”
“go ahead, baby," he said, lips brushing against your ear before he bit down softly on your earlobe, making you jolt. "want you to cum for me."
your whole body shuddered as the release crashed into you, slow and unrelenting, like a wave that just wouldn’t let up. it didn’t hit and fade away like usual — it lingered, making your muscles seize and tremble with every pulse. you felt boneless, your limbs heavy as you sagged against the bed, head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow. jaemin stayed inside you, his grip on your hips loosening just slightly but his eyes stayed locked on you, dark and intent. you could feel him watching every little twitch of your body.
“look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “so pretty like this.”
he eased out of you slowly, and the emptiness that followed had you sucking in a sharp breath. your thighs shook as you tried to press them together, but his were still on you, thumb brushing softly along your inner thighs admiring how your cum slid down your dripping core.
you glanced down, lips parting at the sight. his cock was flushed, standing firm against his stomach, the condom showing nothing but a hint of precum mixed with the mess you’d left behind. a slow heat pooled in your belly again, your body already responding before your mind could catch up.
“you didn’t—” you started, but the words dissolved in your throat, eyes flickering back up to meet his.
you didn’t wait for him to say anything. your hand shot out, fingers curling around his wrist, and you tugged him forward. he followed easily, letting you pull him in close, his lips already parting like he was expecting a kiss. but just as he leaned in, you braced a hand on his chest and shoved him down flat on his back.
“oh?” he breathed out a soft, surprised laugh, his eyes widening as his head hit the pillow. “what’s this, huh?”
“shh,” you muttered, climbing over him, one leg swinging over his hips until you were straddling him. your palms flattened on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your hands.
“bossy now, are we?” his grin stretched wider, his hands sliding up your thighs with a slow, deliberate touch. he squeezed just above your knees, fingertips pressing into your skin.
“quiet,” you said leaning forward, your breath warm against his ear. “thought you’d like a girl who takes charge.”
his head tipped back with a breathy laugh. “oh, i do,” he said, voice trailing off into a low hum as his eyes dipped to where your hips hovered just above him. “but i like it even more when she can keep up.”
the corner of your mouth tugged up into a grin. “we’ll see,” you muttered, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around him. he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his whole body going rigid beneath you. even with just the faintest pressure of your hand, you could feel him twitch, his hips bucking up slightly.
“s-sensitive,” he hissed, jaw tightening as he pressed his head back into the pillow. but he didn’t stop you, didn’t even try. if anything, his fingers dug harder into your thighs, holding you steady like he was afraid you’d pull away.
“thought you could keep up,” you shot back, glancing up at him. his brows furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before they flickered back open. the teasing look on his face was gone now, replaced with something hungrier, more focused.
you lined him up with you, heart thudding hard against your ribs. you’d done this before, but it felt different now… the weight of his eyes on you, the way his hands gripped you just a little tighter as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. the stretch was slow, inch by inch until you felt him fill you completely.
“f-f—” his curse broke off into a low groan, his chest rising sharply as his hands slid up to your waist. “god, you’re—” he didn’t finish. couldn’t finish. his eyes screwed shut, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard you thought he might draw blood.
you braced your hands on his chest, fingers curling just slightly as you adjusted to the feeling. the heat in your core burned brighter, the ache of it twisting into something sharper, more desperate. you shifted your hips just a little, testing it, and the friction hit you so perfectly you gasped, nails digging into his chest.
“you okay?” his voice was strained, barely more than a whisper, but there was a thread of concern woven through it. his eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded but focused on you.
“mhm,” you nodded, breathless as you lifted your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him slide out before sinking back down just as slow. his head tipped back, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, a low groan rattling from his chest.
“yeah, just like that,” he muttered, his grip on you loosening as he let you set the pace. “take your time, pretty girl.” his words slurred just a little, as if he wasn’t fully in control of them anymore. “feels so…” his breath hitched, head tilting back against the pillow.
his hands never stopped moving, though. they roamed up your waist, across your ribs until they found your boobs, they played there for a minute before sliding down to grip your thighs again. every time you dropped your hips, you watched the way his face twisted — brows pulling together, lips parting, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. his fingers twitched, his grip faltering like he wanted to touch you everywhere at once.
“harder,” he breathed, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. his eyes flicked up to yours, gaze locked, lips parted and shiny with spit. “don’t hold back.”
you bit your lip, grinning through the burn in your legs as you shifted your pace and started going faster. the sound of it echoed in the room and you felt the warmth building low in your belly again, tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips.
“y-yeah, just like that,” he gasped, voice cracking, his eyes fluttering shut again. he pressed his head back, the veins on his neck on full display, and you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every uneven breath. his hands slid to your hips, guiding you in sync with his shallow thrusts upward. the movement was messy, desperate, his body seeking more even as he tried to hold on.
“gonna—” he bit out, breath hitching sharply. his eyes flew open, wild and unfocused as he stared at you like he wasn’t even sure what he was about to say. “gonna— oh, fuck—”
“yeah?” you gasped, leaning forward, your hands braced against his chest, fingers curling into his skin. “feels good, hm?”
he didn’t answer with words. he answered with his body, hips snapping up to meet yours, his fingers dragging down your back, hard enough to leave little streaks of heat in their wake. his breathing grew choppy, his body locking up beneath you as his grip on your waist turned bruising.
“don’t stop,” he panted, his voice rough, broken. “don’t— oh, fuck.”
you didn’t. not until you felt every last bit of him give in. his whole body went taut, muscles straining beneath you, his grip locking you in place as he let himself go. he groaned so deeply it sounded more like a growl, his breath hot against your neck as he pulled you down to him, holding you close.
“what’s the verdict, doctor?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest, still sat on top of him.
“hm,” he hummed with his eyes still closed, lips tugging up at the corners as if he was fighting off a grin. “patient shows signs of extreme confidence. possible cause: being too good at driving me crazy.”
you snorted, tilting your head to look at him. “is that your professional diagnosis?”
“oh, absolutely,” he said, cracking one eye open to meet yours. “might need to run some more tests, though. you know, for accuracy.”
“yeah?” you leaned in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “what kind of tests, doctor?”
his hands slid up your back, fingers splayed wide as they pressed you closer. “thorough ones,” he muttered, his voice rasping against your ear. “real hands-on approach.”
“sounds serious,” you teased, letting your nails drag lightly down his chest. “hope your credentials check out.”
“i’m overqualified, baby,” he breathed, tipping his head back against the pillow with a lazy grin. “let me show you.”
my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic!! thank you<3
pairing — soft dom! jeno x reader, strangers to lovers
genre — smut, fluff
word count — 12.5k
synopsis — moving to a new college mid-term wasn’t part of the plan, but neither was jeno. all it takes is one tour guide, one party, one shared look, and suddenly you’re in his bed, legs wrapped around his waist, his cock stretching you so perfectly you forget why you ever hesitated. he’s addictive, and the way he fucks you—slow, deep, like he’s already yours—makes it impossible not to fall apart beneath him.
authors note — happy new year’s eve, my loves 🖤 this is my final fic of 2024, and what a year it’s been. my first on tumblr, and i’m so grateful to have found this community and shared my works with you all! consider this a little gift to celebrate the new year and hitting a follower milestone <3. honestly, this isn’t my best work, but who cares—I’m in a full-on jeno head rot. it’s just smut, with a little build-up, but the smut is so soft, so warm, it’s ridiculous. soft dom jeno is at a solid 10000/10 here. yes, oc and jeno just met. yes, they’re already stupidly possessive over each other. enjoy! also this is not proof read.
listen to this song whilst reading !
December 23rd,
The campus was unnervingly quiet, the kind of quiet that made the crunch of your boots against the frosted ground sound louder than it should. Snow-dusted trees lined the sprawling stone paths, and the chill in the air felt heavy, pressing against your chest. Your breath curled visibly as you approached the grand administration building ahead, its towering columns and arched windows casting long shadows against the gray sky. The facade, a blend of historic elegance and modern design, loomed cold and uninviting, its grandeur only making the campus feel more deserted. The email inviting you for an early induction had sounded welcoming, even reassuring, but as you walked through the silent, snow-covered grounds, a quiet unease began to settle in your chest. Without the usual hum of students rushing past, every step made the sense of not quite belonging sink a little deeper.
Transferring to a new college in the middle of the term was far from ideal, but the opportunity had been impossible to pass up. This wasn’t just any institution—it was one of the most prestigious in the country, known for its groundbreaking research and distinguished faculty. Among them was Professor Doyoung Kim, a name spoken with reverence in academic circles. As head of the engineering department, he was a pioneer in his field, renowned for his contributions to sustainable design and innovative technology. His work had been published in journals you’d once pored over late into the night, dreaming of a future where you might cross paths with such minds. This wasn’t simply a college; it was a launching pad for the kind of career you’d always envisioned. Despite the awkward timing, despite the upheaval, the chance to study here—under the guidance of someone like Kim—was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The anxiety you carried was undeniable, but so was the quiet, determined thrill that you were here, stepping into a world you’d only imagined.
Inside, the warmth was faint, and the echo of your footsteps only deepened the emptiness of the halls. When your eyes landed on him, you almost stopped in your tracks. Professor Doyoung Kim greeted you at the main office, standing tall in a perfectly tailored suit that seemed to amplify his presence. His composed demeanor and sharp features radiated authority, a stark reminder of the name you’d read about countless times in academic journals. He wasn’t just an acclaimed professor; he was a pioneer, a mind you had long admired from afar. Seeing him in person left you momentarily stunned, the reality of his stature hitting you harder than you expected. Yet, despite his intimidating reputation, there was a kindness in his sharp gaze that softened the edges of your nervousness, making it hard to feel entirely overwhelmed.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and professional, “I’m glad you came in today so we could make you feel welcome and show you around—especially on such late notice.”
You nodded, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag. “Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity.”
Doyoung smiled faintly, gesturing for you to follow him down the hall. “You’re an exceptional student,” he added, his tone factual rather than complimentary. “It’s not every year we get someone with your academic track record. We’re excited to have you join us next term.”
You nodded again, your throat tightening as you fell into step beside him. His words didn’t feel like flattery—they felt like a challenge, a subtle reflection of the expectations you carried with you. Years of meticulous effort had built your academic reputation, but the thought of starting over, proving yourself in an unfamiliar environment, pressed heavily on your chest. Confidence in your abilities wasn’t the issue—it was the weight of living up to the opportunity you’d been given.
As Professor Kim walked you through the structure of the semester, your nerves began to shift, settling into a focused hum. He spoke about the program’s intensity, the emphasis on collaboration, and the resources available to students with the kind of precision that made his words reassuring. His voice was calm, steady, even soothing in its way. But just as you started to feel more at ease, you turned a corner and collided with someone, the impact snapping you out of your thoughts like a jolt.
“Oh—sorry!” you stammered, stepping back quickly as your bag nearly slipped from your shoulder.
The person you bumped into barely moved, his tall frame unyielding as he glanced down at you with an expression that was impossible to read. His dark hair fell into his eyes, brushing against furrowed brows, and his lips pressed into a firm, unimpressed line. He looked like he had better things to do, like your clumsiness had interrupted something far more important.
But then his gaze lingered, his sharp eyes catching on the curve of your face, the hurried apology spilling from your lips. The tension in his brow eased, the faintest shift in his expression betraying a flicker of interest. His gaze softened as it traced over you—curious now, lingering just a second too long. His disinterest cracked, just enough to reveal something more, as if you’d momentarily pulled his focus away from whatever had consumed it before.
“Great,” Doyoung interrupted smoothly, stepping between the two of you. “Jeno, meet Y/N. Y/N, this is Jeno. He’s one of our top students in the department. Jeno, would you mind showing her around? Make sure she gets the full tour.”
Jeno exhaled slowly through his nose, his expression settling into something impassive, though his jaw twitched slightly. He pulled his headphones down to rest around his neck, the movement deliberate as his eyes flicked from Doyoung to you.
“Sure,” he said, the word falling flat, edged with reluctance, though the weight of his gaze told a different story. His eyes swept over your face, sharp and deliberate, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. The curve of his mouth twitched, the barest hint of a smirk playing there, like he knew exactly what his presence did to you. “I’ll show you around. Try not to bump into anyone else, though.”
Doyoung nodded approvingly, clapping Jeno lightly on the shoulder. “Good. I’ll leave you two to it. Y/N, if you have any questions, feel free to reach out.” With that, he walked away, his footsteps fading into the stillness, leaving the two of you standing far too close in the empty hallway.
You couldn’t ignore the way Jeno’s gaze lingered, his posture relaxed but his eyes anything but. He didn’t look thrilled to be stuck with this task, but there was something else beneath the surface—an intensity in the way his gaze dipped briefly to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. It made the air between you feel heavy, charged, like it held secrets you weren’t ready to name.
“Hi,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, though it felt deafening in the quiet.
He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair falling just into his eyes, and the corner of his mouth quirked up, almost imperceptibly. “Hi.”
The single word wasn’t warm or overly friendly—it was casual, almost dismissive—but the way his voice dropped made it feel personal, intimate. His gaze stayed locked on yours, unwavering, as though he was studying you, searching for something unspoken in your reaction.
“So,” he said after a moment, his voice low, his fingers adjusting the strap of his backpack in a slow, deliberate motion that somehow drew your attention. “Where do you want to start? Library? Labs? Or are we just walking aimlessly?”
“The library,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of his gaze. “If that’s okay.”
He nodded, the slight tilt of his head carrying an ease you couldn’t replicate, then turned without another word, gesturing for you to follow. You fell into step beside him, your heartbeat quickening with every silent second that passed. His pace was slow, unhurried, the sound of his boots on the stone path matching your own as the quiet between you deepened—not awkward, but charged, as if even the spaces between his words carried weight.
The campus looked entirely different with Jeno leading the way. The snow-dusted paths that had felt cold and uninviting now seemed softened, the towering stone buildings framing your surroundings rather than looming over them. But it wasn’t just the campus—it was him. The faint brush of his arm as he walked too close, the subtle warmth of his presence despite the icy chill of the air, the way his voice resonated low and steady, grounding you in the unfamiliarity of the moment.
“That’s the dining hall,” he said, his tone casual, though a subtle rasp in his voice made the words feel heavier. “Food’s decent most days. Breakfast is worth getting up for, but lunch and dinner… well, you’ll survive.”
You nodded, your throat dry as you tried to focus on his words, but your attention was pulled elsewhere—drawn to the way his lips moved when he spoke, the casual flick of his hand as he gestured toward the building. His tone wasn’t unfriendly, but there was a distance in it, like he wasn’t fully invested in the conversation. Yet, every so often, his gaze would flick to you, quick and sharp, as though he was studying the way you reacted to him, the way your breath caught or your steps faltered.
When you reached the engineering labs—a sleek glass building that gleamed even under the muted winter light—his voice softened, the shift so subtle it was almost imperceptible. “You’ll probably spend most of your time here,” he said, his words slower now, his gaze flicking briefly to yours before continuing. “Professors are good, but they don’t mess around.”
“Sounds intense,” you said, your voice lighter, though the slight tremor betrayed you.
“It is,” he replied, but his gaze lingered, dark and steady, his eyes tracing the curve of your face before meeting yours with a heat that made your stomach twist. His lips curved slightly, the faintest smirk appearing as though he’d noticed your reaction and found it amusing. “But you look like the type who can handle it.”
The words hit harder than they should have, his voice low and deliberate, laced with something that felt heavier than casual observation. His eyes stayed on yours, unyielding, as if daring you to deny it. The air between you seemed thicker, his presence pressing into the space in a way that made your chest tighten and your breath falter.
You looked away quickly, your cheeks warming despite the icy air, but the weight of his gaze lingered, wrapping around you like a thread you couldn’t quite untangle. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you, in the way his voice dipped just for you, and it left your pulse pounding in your ears as the moment stretched on, charged with a tension neither of you dared to name.
When you reached the library, the sheer scale of it stole your breath. Rows of books stretched endlessly in every direction, the warm glow of the lights above casting a golden hue across the polished wood floors. High ceilings arched overhead, their grandeur somehow both awe-inspiring and calming. Jeno stepped ahead of you, pushing the heavy door open with one hand, his other casually stuffed into his jacket pocket.
“Best place on campus,” he said, his voice carrying an unbothered confidence that seemed to come naturally to him. He stepped aside, holding the door open for you as though it required no thought, just instinct. “Quiet, warm, and the coffee’s decent—if you know where to get it.”
You stepped inside, the subtle warmth of the space enveloping you immediately. The scent of aged paper and polished wood filled the air, grounding you in a way that felt almost nostalgic. Even though the library was nearly empty, the quiet hum of central heating and the faint rustle of a page turning somewhere in the distance made it feel alive. You glanced around, taking it all in, and found yourself speaking before you’d even realized.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, the words falling softly into the stillness.
Jeno’s lips curved, faint amusement flickering across his face as his eyes followed your reaction. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful as his gaze moved across the room—but not for long. His eyes returned to you, lingering, as though drawn back against his will. “It’s not bad,” he added, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smirk that felt deliberate, though his gaze seemed far more interested in you than the grandeur of the space.
He led you deeper into the library, his steps measured, his voice low as he pointed out various sections. His explanations were quick, almost perfunctory, as though he’d done this routine countless times. But there was something about the way he moved, the way his occasional glances seemed to linger on you before snapping back to the shelves, that made your heart skip.
“This is where most people camp out during finals,” he said, gesturing to a cluster of study tables near a large window. Snowflakes drifted outside, soft and slow, the courtyard below blanketed in white. “If you’re lucky, you’ll find a spot without someone snoring next to you.”
The dryness of his humor caught you off guard, and you let out a quiet laugh, the sound surprising even yourself. His smirk widened slightly, and for a moment, the distance he carried seemed to fade, replaced by something easier, more comfortable. There was a steadiness about him, an unspoken confidence in the way he occupied space, and though your nerves still hummed beneath the surface, his presence made you feel oddly grounded in the vast unfamiliarity of the moment.
Jeno led you out of the library and back into the chill of the afternoon, his steps unhurried as he gestured toward a path branching off to the left. The cold nipped at your cheeks, but his presence kept you anchored, the warmth of his voice cutting through the bite of the wind.
“There’s a café just ahead,” he said, glancing over at you briefly. “If you ever need a break between classes, it’s a decent spot to hide out. Quiet enough most of the time, though it gets crowded around finals.”
The path wound past a small courtyard, snow blanketing the benches and casting a soft glow under the pale sunlight. You followed him, falling easily into step beside him, and for a moment, you let yourself settle into the calmness he seemed to carry.
“It sounds perfect,” you said, your voice lighter now, the tension in your chest easing with each step.
“It’s not bad,” Jeno replied, his tone casual. Then, as though letting you in on a secret, he added, “The hot chocolate’s better than the coffee, though. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected confession, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips. “Noted. I’ll keep it between us.”
The café came into view, a cozy space nestled between two older campus buildings, its wide windows fogged with the warmth inside. Jeno held the door open for you again, his hand resting lightly against the frame as he gestured you in. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wrapped around you the moment you stepped inside, and the soft hum of conversation made the space feel alive but not overwhelming.
“This is probably my favorite spot,” he admitted as he followed you in, his voice dropping slightly, as though the quieter surroundings demanded it. “I usually come here before late lectures. Keeps me sane.”
The warmth of the space settled over you, and for the first time since arriving on campus, you felt yourself fully relax. You glanced around, noticing the mix of students tucked into booths and perched at small tables, their heads bent over laptops and textbooks. A few of them glanced up as you walked by, their eyes trailing not you, but Jeno.
At first, you thought they were curious about you—your unfamiliar face drawing attention in a space that likely had its regulars. But the looks lingered, darting to Jeno with recognition and, in some cases, something like admiration. You caught snippets of whispers as you passed, words you couldn’t quite make out but felt like they weren’t about you at all.
Jeno, however, seemed oblivious—or maybe just unaffected. He moved with the same easy confidence he’d shown since you first bumped into him, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders relaxed. If he noticed the way people looked at him, the way their conversations quieted as he passed, he didn’t let it show.
“Want to grab something?” he asked, nodding toward the counter.
You shook your head, still distracted by the way the atmosphere shifted around him. “No, I’m okay. Thanks.”
Jeno only gave you a faint glance, his brows lifting briefly as if to say sure you are, before turning toward the counter. A few quiet words exchanged with the barista, and he returned moments later with a pistachio muffin and a steaming cup of hot chocolate in hand. He held them out to you, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips when you hesitated.
“Take it,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for refusal. “Trust me—you don’t want to miss this.”
Flustered, you accepted the muffin, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping through the paper cup as you cradled it in your hands. Your cheeks warmed as you tore off a piece of the muffin, the soft, nutty sweetness melting on your tongue.
“It’s good,” you admitted quietly, looking up at him as he leaned against a nearby table.
“Of course it is,” he said, taking the other half of the muffin and popping it into his mouth, chewing with a casualness that only added to the ease he carried. His gaze flicked to you briefly as you sipped the hot chocolate, your eyes widening slightly at the rich, velvety flavor.
“This is…” you trailed off, unable to find the right word, but the awe in your expression said enough.
He chuckled softly, his voice low as he leaned in just enough to make the moment feel conspiratorial. “Don’t tell anyone about this hot chocolate. It’s my secret weapon during finals, and if word gets out, I’ll know who to blame.”
You giggled, warmth curling in your chest at his tone. “I’ll treasure it, I promise,” you said, holding the cup up as though swearing allegiance to the drink.
His smile widened just slightly, a flicker of something warmer passing through his eyes before he straightened. “Good,” he said, gesturing toward the door.
The cold hit you again as you stepped back outside, the sharp air a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of the café. Jeno slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head toward another path.
“Next stop,” he said, his breath visible in the chill, “the engineering building. Probably the place you’ll end up hating most by the end of the semester.”
You followed him down a narrow walkway, the sleek glass exterior of the engineering labs coming into view ahead. Inside, the air was hushed, the long corridors lined with lecture halls and labs that hummed faintly with the buzz of equipment left running. Jeno’s voice softened as he showed you around, pointing out the key areas with an easy familiarity that made you feel less overwhelmed.
“That’s the main lab,” he said, gesturing through a glass panel at a sprawling space filled with machinery and workstations. “If you’re lucky, you’ll end up with a professor who doesn’t believe in piling on assignments over the weekend. If not…” He gave you a knowing glance, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
“I’ll survive,” you said, smiling back.
“You will,” he agreed, his tone warmer now. “It’s not all bad. Once you get into a rhythm, it’s… almost fun. Almost.”
His dry humor caught you off guard again, and you found yourself laughing softly as he continued walking. The tension you’d felt earlier in the day had almost entirely faded, replaced by a quiet sense of ease you hadn’t expected.
Yet, as you passed by groups of students, you noticed the stares again—subtle at first, but growing more frequent. Heads turned as Jeno walked by, some students offering nods of acknowledgment, others sneaking glances that lingered just a second too long. You felt the weight of their gazes and assumed it was because you were new, someone unfamiliar walking through spaces they knew so well. But then you realized their focus wasn’t on you at all.
It was on Jeno.
He didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t change his stride or posture, but the quiet magnetism he carried seemed to draw people in without him needing to say a word. The way he moved—confident but not cocky, approachable yet distant—held an effortless allure, and the attention he received seemed so natural, so ingrained in the fabric of who he was, that he didn’t even notice it anymore.
But you did. And it left you wondering just how much more there was to Jeno than what he was letting you see.
The thought lingered, settling into your chest like a spark waiting to catch. He slowed as you reached a fork in the path, turning toward you with that same effortless composure, his hands still tucked into his pockets. His gaze held yours briefly, steady but unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you felt heavier than the quiet around you.
“Do you need me to show you anything else? Or…?” he asked, his tone calm, neutral, yet carrying an undercurrent that made your stomach twist.
You shook your head quickly, not trusting yourself to say much. “No, I think I’m good,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.
“You sure?”
You nodded again, though the look in both of your eyes felt unreadable—something almost feral and dangerous simmering just beneath the surface. The intensity of it made your chest tighten, your breath catching slightly as you managed a soft hum of confirmation.
He smiled then, slow and deliberate, and something about the curve of his lips made the tension between you feel impossibly sharp.
You never imagined your first day at a new college would end like this—naked beneath a man whose body pressed so intimately against yours, his heat swallowing you whole.
Lee Jeno.
His bare skin was warm and firm against yours, the weight of his body grounding you as though he was the only thing tethering you to reality. His face hovered just above yours, dark eyes soft but intent, holding a depth that made your breath catch. He wasn’t just looking at you—he was taking you in, like every detail mattered. A faint smile played on his lips, teasing but tender, as though he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than either of you could admit.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” he murmured, his voice low, his breath brushing your lips. His words weren’t rushed or rehearsed—they spilled out like a confession, a secret meant only for you. “Since the second I saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you.”
The sound of his voice sent a soft shiver down your spine, your body arching slightly toward him before you could stop yourself. His gaze flicked to yours, his smile widening just enough to show he noticed. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned closer, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, testing, like he was savoring every second. But as you pressed into him, your hands sliding up to his neck, fingers threading into his hair, the kiss deepened.
You moaned softly against his mouth, the sound escaping before you could stifle it, but Jeno didn’t hesitate. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper, slower, his lips moving against yours with a rhythm that felt intoxicating. His hands slid along your sides, his touch featherlight but warm, steadying you, grounding you in the heat building between you.
“I don’t do this,” you murmured, your words breaking softly against his lips as you pulled back just enough to speak.
His brows furrowed slightly, his expression shifting as his gaze locked onto yours. “Do what?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with curiosity.
“This,” you whispered, your voice trembling, the weight of the admission sinking into the space between you.
Jeno’s lips twitched, a flicker of amusement breaking through his seriousness, but there was no mockery in his expression—only tenderness. “What are we doing?” he murmured, his tone dropping lower as he leaned closer, his forehead brushing yours. “I’m not even—fuck—I haven’t even been inside you yet. All we’re doing is kissing.”
“That still means a lot to me,” you admitted, your voice quiet but firm, your eyes meeting his with a vulnerability that left you feeling bare in a way his touch never could.
His smirk softened, his expression melting into something warmer, more open. “Me too,” he said softly, his voice brushing against your skin as his hand moved to cradle your jaw. His thumb swept along your cheek as he kissed you again, slower this time, pouring everything unspoken into the touch of his lips against yours.
You kissed him back, your hands slipping down to rest against his shoulders, tracing the curve of his muscles as your lips moved together. “Can we just… kiss for now?” you murmured between breaths, your voice tinged with hesitance but steady. “I’m not—I’m not ready for more yet.”
Jeno pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours as his hand slid down to rest against your waist. “Of course,” he said, his tone soft and filled with understanding, the words settling between you like a promise.
A faint laugh escaped his lips, the sound low and warm, as his forehead rested lightly against yours. You swallowed, your cheeks flushed as you took in the softness in his gaze, his warmth grounding you.
“I thought I was ready to fuck,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Your voice was quiet, trembling slightly, but the truth of it lingered heavily in the space between you. “But I’m not.”
Jeno paused, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that softened almost immediately into understanding. His thumb brushed gently against your jaw, his touch steady and comforting.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “that’s okay.” His lips curved into a faint smile, and he leaned in, brushing the lightest kiss against your forehead before returning to hover just above your lips. “I get it. We’ll go slow. Whatever you want.”
The two of you melted into each other, the weight of your bodies pressed together as you kissed deeply. Jeno’s hands roamed lightly over your skin, not demanding, but exploring, each touch deliberate and careful. His fingertips grazed your sides, his palms warm against your waist as his lips moved against yours in a rhythm that felt unending.
Soft moans escaped both of you, the sounds mixing with the faint rustle of the sheets as you shifted closer, your bodies aligning instinctively. His lips traveled down to your jaw, brushing kisses along the curve before returning to your mouth, capturing you in another deep kiss that left your head spinning.
He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing yours as he smiled—a soft, almost shy smile that felt intimate in a way words couldn’t capture. And when you smiled back, his eyes flicked to your lips, his breath catching as though he couldn’t look away.
Time faded as you made out with him, your hands exploring the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his neck, while his touch mirrored yours with the same careful reverence. It wasn’t about rushing toward something more—it was about this, the closeness, the heat, the way his lips felt like they could drown out the rest of the world.
Between kisses, his lips brushed against yours in a pause, his voice soft and low. “I hope I’ve helped you settle in,” he murmured, the words carrying a quiet warmth that sent a shiver through you.
Your breath hitched, and you managed a faint, breathless laugh, leaning into him as your fingers tangled in his hair. “You have,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you kissed him again, pouring the weight of your gratitude and everything unspoken into the connection.
December 31st
The golden light of the late afternoon filtered through the apartment’s sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You sat cross-legged on your bed, staring at the few clothes you’d pulled from your closet and thrown across the mattress. None of them felt right, and the familiar swirl of hesitation churned in your stomach.
Chaewon, your roommate, was perched on the arm of the couch in the corner, flipping through her phone but stealing occasional glances at you. She’d been patient—so sweet and supportive since you moved in—but her enthusiasm for the night ahead was clear.
“You know,” she began, her voice light and playful, “you’ve been staring at the same pile of clothes for the past ten minutes.”
You groaned softly, leaning back on your hands. “Nothing feels… right. I don’t know what to wear.”
Chaewon set her phone down and came over, her steps light against the hardwood floors. “It’s just a party,” she said, sitting at the edge of your bed and reaching for one of the sweaters you’d discarded. “You’re overthinking it.”
“I know,” you admitted, sighing. “I just—I don’t want to feel out of place.”
“You won’t,” she said, her tone reassuring but not dismissive. She pulled out a plaid skirt you hadn’t touched in months and held it up, eyeing it critically. “What about this? With that cardigan you wore last week—the cute one with the buttons?”
You tilted your head, considering it. “You think that’s okay?”
“More than okay,” she said, smiling as she laid the pieces next to each other. “It’s adorable, but not over the top. It’s perfect for New Year’s.”
You hesitated, your hands brushing over the fabric of the skirt. “I don’t know… it feels like a lot.”
“It’s not,” she insisted, her voice warm but firm. “It’s fun and cute and still very you. Trust me on this.”
Something about her tone made you relax a little. Chaewon had a way of making things seem easier, simpler, like the world didn’t have to feel so complicated all the time. You nodded, picking up the skirt and standing to hold it against yourself.
“Okay,” you said, glancing at her. “I’ll give it a shot.”
“Good choice,” she said, grinning.
The next half hour passed in a calm, comfortable rhythm. You changed into the outfit she’d suggested, smoothing the hem of the skirt and adjusting the cardigan over your shoulders. The warmth of the wool felt grounding, and when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you didn’t hate what you saw.
Chaewon was busy slipping into her own dress, a sleek black number that hugged her frame perfectly. She paired it with boots that gave her just enough height to make her stride commanding but not intimidating.
“You look amazing,” you said without thinking, and Chaewon laughed, a soft, genuine sound.
“Thanks,” she said, running her hands over the fabric. “You do too, by the way.”
You smiled, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. “I don’t know if I feel ready for this.”
“You don’t have to be ready,” she said, her voice gentle as she stepped closer. “You just have to go. Try to have fun. That’s all that matters tonight.”
The simplicity of her words made you pause. She wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding anything of you—just encouraging you to take a small step out of your comfort zone.
“Thanks, Chaewon,” you said softly, your voice carrying more gratitude than you could put into words.
She shrugged, her smile easy and warm. “That’s what roommates are for.”
You both finished getting ready in companionable silence, the occasional murmur of shared thoughts filling the space. When you sat on the edge of your bed to lace up your boots, Chaewon glanced over at you again.
“Okay, be honest,” she said, tilting her head as she studied you. “Do you feel good?”
You thought about it, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your skirt. “Yeah,” you said after a moment, surprised by how true it felt. “I think I do.”
“Good,” she said, her grin widening. She grabbed her jacket from the back of a chair and threw it on. “Because tonight is going to be fun. I promise.”
Her optimism was infectious, and as you grabbed your own coat and followed her to the door, you found yourself starting to believe her. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
You needed optimism. You needed something to distract you from the quiet storm that had been swirling in your mind ever since that night. You hadn’t told Chaewon about Jeno, about how he’d stayed at your apartment, how the two of you had crossed boundaries you hadn’t even known you were capable of crossing. It wasn’t something you did—hooking up with someone you’d barely met felt entirely too intimate, too raw, too unfamiliar.
And yet, it had happened. You could still feel the weight of his hands on your hips, the way his lips moved against yours like he was trying to memorize every second. It had been so much more than you expected—charged, overwhelming, and impossibly tender.
Maybe that was why you hadn’t reached out to him. The feelings it stirred in you were too intense, too complicated to sort through. You didn’t even know where you would begin if you tried to explain it to Chaewon. So, you’d kept it to yourself, burying it under the routine of settling into your new life here.
But as you walked out the door into the crisp evening air, you couldn’t help but wonder if the memory of him would follow you tonight. Would the warmth of his voice, the heat of his gaze, creep back in when you least expected it? You shook the thought away, determined to focus on the present, to let Chaewon’s easy laughter and excitement pull you into something lighter, something that didn’t weigh so heavily on your chest.
For now, you just needed to keep moving forward.
The Uber ride was quiet except for Chaewon humming softly to her playlist, tapping her fingers against her thigh to the beat. You stared out the window, the dim city lights reflecting faintly in the glass, a small pit of nervousness forming in your stomach. Chaewon had been so excited about tonight, her enthusiasm almost contagious, but as you neared the house, the faint pulse of music vibrating through the cold air made you grip your coat tighter.
“You’ll be fine,” Chaewon said suddenly, breaking the silence. She turned to you with a knowing smile, as if she could read your thoughts.
“I didn’t say anything,” you replied, glancing at her.
“Your face did,” she shot back, her tone light but laced with warmth. “Look, it’s just a party. You don’t have to love it, but you do have to at least pretend to try.”
You sighed, sinking back into your seat. “You sound like my mom,” you muttered, earning a laugh from her.
“Good. Then maybe you’ll listen,” she teased, nudging your arm gently.
By the time the car pulled up in front of the house, the music was pounding, loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Chaewon opened her door eagerly, stepping out and holding it open for you as she gestured toward the sprawling house.
“Here we go,” she said brightly.
The house was chaos. People spilled out onto the lawn, some holding red cups, others perched on the porch steps laughing or smoking. Inside, the energy was even more overwhelming—music thumped from every corner, the floor vibrating with the bass as a sea of bodies danced, talked, or hovered around the kitchen counters stacked with bottles.
“This is insane,” you murmured, your eyes darting around the packed living room.
Chaewon grabbed your arm gently, steering you through the crowd. “It’s college. Welcome to your first real party.”
The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and faint traces of weed. Every corner seemed occupied—people were dancing with abandon in the middle of the room, making out in the dimly lit hallway, or lounging on the staircase like they owned the place.
You felt entirely out of place, gripping the plastic cup Chaewon had handed you so tightly that your knuckles whitened. She, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, weaving through the crowd like she belonged there, greeting people with quick hugs and easy smiles.
“Relax,” she said over her shoulder, noticing your stiff posture. “You’re not going to bite anyone.”
You tried to force a smile, the knot in your stomach tightening as you glanced around again. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted.
“Of course, you can,” she replied, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Just breathe. Parties are about letting loose—not thinking too much. You’ve got this.”
“Whose party is this, anyway?” you asked, your voice barely audible over the music.
“Lee Jeno’s,” she said casually, but her grin widened as she saw your expression shift.
“Jeno,” you both said at the same time, though your voice was softer, more disbelieving.
Your eyes scanned the room again, and then you saw him.
Jeno stood near the staircase, his presence commanding without even trying. His dark hair was effortlessly tousled, framing sharp features that seemed almost unfairly perfect under the dim lighting. He wore a plain white shirt, the fabric clinging slightly to the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, the faint outline of muscle visible every time he shifted. His black trousers hung low on his hips, loose but just fitted enough to hint at the lean strength of his frame, his entire demeanor radiating a casual confidence that made it impossible to look away.
He was surrounded by people, their laughter too loud, their smiles too eager, as though just being near him was enough. And yet, his gaze seemed distant, uninterested in the crowd orbiting him like moths to a flame, making his magnetism even harder to ignore.
The room around you seemed to dissolve the moment his gaze found yours, the faintest flicker of recognition sparking in his dark eyes. His smile pulled at the corner of his lips slowly, as if he was savoring the moment, deliberate and laced with something you couldn’t name. He leaned closer to the group he was with, murmuring a few words that had them nodding, though his focus didn’t waver from you.
Each step he took in your direction felt unhurried yet purposeful, his frame cutting through the crowd with an ease that drew glances and whispers. His shirt clung lightly to the defined curve of his chest, his shoulders moving fluidly under the fabric. When he stopped in front of you, his eyes lingered, sweeping over your face in a way that made your breath hitch.
“Hi,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, yet his lips twitched, like he’d heard every syllable.
“Hi,” he replied, his tone soft, the single word brushing the air between you like a touch. His gaze flicked to your mouth for a brief second before returning to your eyes, a question hanging unspoken.
He tilted his head, his expression calm but intent, the faintest crease forming between his brows. His voice dipped lower, quieter, as he spoke. “You haven’t answered any of my messages.”
Your heart jumped, the guilt bubbling up before you could stop it. “I know,” you murmured, looking down at your drink. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t know what to say.”
Jeno’s expression softened, though the intensity of his gaze didn’t waver. “You could’ve started with ‘hi,’” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You let out a shaky laugh, lifting your eyes to meet his again. “I guess I could have,” you admitted quietly.
His eyes moved over you slowly, unhurried but purposeful, as though he was trying to memorize every detail. When his gaze finally met yours again, his teeth caught his bottom lip, a subtle movement that only emphasized the tension etched into his expression. There was no smirk, no teasing glint in his eyes—just something raw and unfiltered that made your heart lurch.
“You look pretty,” he said, his voice low and steady, each word carrying a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. His lips parted slightly as though he might say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he held your gaze, his eyes locked on yours like he was waiting for your reaction, waiting for you to understand just how much he meant it.
Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the compliment. “Mmm, you look good too,” you said, your tone soft and unsteady as your eyes roamed over him.
He smiled, the corner of his mouth tugging upward just enough to reveal a hint of mischief. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice quiet but deliberate.
“Me too,” you replied, though the words felt heavy on your tongue.
He chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “You sure? Doesn’t sound like you’re having fun.”
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “This party isn’t really… my thing,” you admitted.
Jeno placed a hand over his chest, feigning a dramatic wince. “Ouch.”
“No!” you said quickly, laughing nervously. “I’m sure your parties are great. I just—I’m not a party person.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his tone light, teasing.
“Yeah,” you said firmly, though your voice still wavered.
He studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “Stay here, okay?” he said finally, his tone gentler now. “I’ll be back. Give me five minutes.”
You nodded, your breath catching as you watched him disappear into the crowd. The space he left behind felt stark, like the absence of him created a vacuum you couldn’t ignore. The buzz of the party pressed back in slowly, but the air felt different now—charged with the weight of unspoken questions and quiet murmurs that seemed to ripple outward.
You became hyperaware of the stares. People’s gazes flicked between you and the direction Jeno had gone, their whispers barely audible over the music but unmistakable. Girls leaned into one another, exchanging quick glances and hushed words, their eyes darting toward you before quickly looking away. The weight of their attention made your chest tighten, heat rising to your cheeks as you struggled to process the shift.
“Y/N.”
Chaewon’s hand closed around your arm, her grip firm but not harsh as she turned you to face her. Her expression was a mix of disbelief and something that bordered on awe, her eyes wide as she searched your face.
“What just happened?” she demanded, her voice louder than you expected, cutting through the noise of the party.
You hesitated, your chest tightening as you struggled to find the right words. “Me and Jeno met before,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the thumping bass.
Chaewon blinked, her jaw slackening as she processed your words. “You what?” she asked, the pitch of her voice rising slightly. “When? Did you—did you sleep with him?”
Your face flushed, the heat spreading down your neck as you shook your head quickly. “No, we only made out,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “It was after I met him on campus, and he showed me around.”
Chaewon stared at you like you’d just confessed to something outrageous, her mouth opening and closing as though she couldn’t decide what to say first. Her grip on your arm loosened slightly, but her expression only grew more incredulous.
“Y/N,” she said finally, her tone slow, deliberate, like she needed to make sure you understood the gravity of what you’d just said. “Do you even know who Lee Jeno is?”
You gave her a blank look, unsure where she was going with this. “What do you mean?”
She let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, rolling her eyes dramatically before leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s, like, the most well-known guy on campus. Everyone knows him. He’s smart, he’s hot, he’s on the basketball team, and he’s practically impossible to get close to. People talk about him like he’s some kind of campus legend. And you’re telling me you just… made out with him?”
Her words hung in the air, the weight of them sinking into your chest as you replayed that night in your head. Jeno had been all of those things—charming, confident, and entirely out of your league—but in the quiet of your apartment, he hadn’t felt untouchable. He’d felt real, grounded, like he wasn’t the larger-than-life figure Chaewon was describing but just… Jeno.
“I didn’t know,” you admitted, your voice small, almost drowned out by the pounding music.
Chaewon shook her head in disbelief, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. “Of course you didn’t. That’s why this is insane. You’re just sitting here like it’s no big deal when half the girls in this room would kill to be you right now.”
You looked away, your gaze drifting to the crowd as the whispers continued to ripple around you. The weight of their attention was suffocating, but it wasn’t their stares or even Chaewon’s words that lingered. It was Jeno—his calm, deliberate presence, the way his voice dipped when he spoke to you, the way his eyes lingered like he was seeing something no one else could.
Before you could respond, Jeno reappeared, a black jacket now draped over his shoulders, zipped halfway up to combat the chill of the night. The stark contrast of the dark fabric against the white of his shirt only made him look more striking, the clean lines of his lean frame framed perfectly. A bag was slung casually over one shoulder, his fingers curled loosely around the strap. His dark eyes, calm yet intent, settled on you with an ease that made your stomach flip.
“Wanna come?” he asked, his voice low, the casual tone of his question at odds with the intensity of his gaze.
You blinked, startled by the suddenness of his words. “What?”
“You think that the party’s dead,” he said simply, his lips curving into a faint smirk that felt more intimate than playful. “So let’s leave.”
Your heart raced as you stared at him, the heat of his attention making it hard to focus. The room around you seemed to blur, the noise fading into the background as his hand extended toward you, steady and certain. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers slipping into his warm grasp.
You didn’t question it. Instead, you smiled softly, the corners of your lips twitching upward as you let him pull you closer. The smell of his cologne—a faint, woodsy scent with an edge of something sharp—lingered as he leaned in, his lips brushing so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, the words barely audible over the thrum of the party, but they landed squarely in your chest, making your breath catch.
Your eyes darted around quickly, taking in the crowd of people that still lingered nearby, their whispers and glances now tinged with curiosity. You bit your lip, your gaze flicking back to his as heat rose to your cheeks.
“Later,” you promised softly, your voice trembling just slightly, though the smile you gave him was steady.
Jeno’s lips twitched into a knowing grin, his dark eyes holding yours for a moment longer before he nodded. He tightened his grip on your hand gently, leading you toward the door with a quiet confidence that felt impossible to resist.
As the two of you weaved through the crowd, the whispers grew louder, people openly staring now as they watched him leave—watched you leave with him. The thrum of the music seemed almost muffled compared to the pounding in your chest, and as you reached the door, the cool night air washed over you like a sharp inhale.
“Wait,” you said suddenly, a gasp slipping past your lips. “You’re leaving your own party?”
Jeno glanced back at you, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he said easily, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s my party. I can do what I want.”
His tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an edge of sincerity in the way he looked at you—like he meant every word. And before you could question it further, he squeezed your hand, pulling you closer as the two of you stepped into the night.
Jeno had taken you to a secluded spot along the riverbank, where the city lights shimmered faintly on the water and the distant hum of the party was little more than a memory. The air was crisp, the faint scent of the river mingling with the promise of snow, but Jeno seemed entirely unbothered by the chill. He led you to a cozy bench overlooking the river, the kind of spot that felt impossibly picturesque, where a blanket and a small bag of snacks were waiting.
“I told you, best view of the fireworks,” he said, his voice calm yet confident, as if the quiet intimacy of the moment had been crafted just for you.
You smiled at the gesture, settling onto the blanket he’d spread over the bench. Before you could fully take in the setting, Jeno’s attention shifted to a nearby vendor, where a small cart steamed with the rich scent of hot chocolate. Without asking, he stood and wandered over, returning moments later with two cups in hand.
“Here,” he said, handing one to you, his hand brushing yours in a way that made your breath hitch. The warmth of the cup seeped through your gloves, but it was his quiet, thoughtful gesture that really sent a shiver down your spine.
“Thanks,” you murmured, glancing up at him as he settled back beside you.
He smiled, soft and easy, before taking a sip of his own. “Hot chocolate always makes the cold easier to deal with,” he said lightly, the nonchalance in his tone almost making you laugh.
You took a tentative sip, the rich, velvety taste warming you from the inside out. “You’re right,” you admitted, nodding slightly as you turned to look at him, your breath visible in the cold night air.
Jeno’s gaze lingered on you, dark and steady, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Told you,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something softer, quieter, as though the space between you had just shrunk.
Conversation had come easily after that, the hot chocolate warming your hands while Jeno’s presence seemed to settle the nerves that had been simmering since the night began. You talked about the most mundane things—classes, favorite foods, what New Year’s resolutions you’d already broken—and yet, the simplicity of it all felt impossibly intimate.
Still, it wasn’t long before the conversation gave way to something quieter, something heavier. Jeno’s hand brushed yours as he set his cup down, and the warmth of his touch lingered, sparking a need for closeness that you hadn’t anticipated.
His lips found yours in a kiss that was as gentle as the snow beginning to fall around you. At first, it was soft, exploratory, his hand cupping your cheek as though he was afraid to break you. But as you leaned into him, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck, the kiss deepened, his lips pressing firmer against yours with a hunger that felt both cautious and consuming.
The fireworks began to crackle faintly in the distance, but you hardly noticed, your focus completely on the way Jeno’s mouth moved against yours. His breath hitched as you tilted your head, your lips parting just slightly, and he took the opportunity to pull you closer, his hands settling on your waist with a confidence that made your heart race.
Every time you tried to pull back, his gaze would catch yours, his eyes dark and intense, as though he couldn’t let you go even for a moment. And when he kissed you again, it wasn’t rushed—it was deliberate, a quiet exploration that left you dizzy and clinging to him.
“Jeno,” you murmured against his lips, though you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say.
He smiled into the kiss, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck. “Yeah?” he whispered, his tone playful but weighted, like he already knew the answer.
You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping as your fingers tightened slightly on his jacket. “Nothing,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him again, unwilling to let the moment break.
The fireworks continued overhead, lighting the sky in bursts of color, but neither of you paid them much attention. Every touch, every kiss, every soft sigh seemed to pull you deeper into the warmth of each other, the cold night air fading into irrelevance.
The plan had been to stay here until midnight, to watch the fireworks and celebrate the New Year together. But somewhere in the middle of his kisses, his hands sliding carefully along your sides, his breath warm against your cheek, your resolve shifted.
You didn’t want to wait for midnight.
You wanted him.
And now, somehow, you were here, pressed beneath him on his bed, your body trembling as his warmth consumed you.
The soft cotton of his sheets grounded you, but it was Jeno’s weight above you that anchored you completely, his warmth pressing into every inch of your body like it was made to fit against him. His broad shoulders framed the space above you, his lean, muscled frame draped over yours with a control that made every inch of your skin hyperaware of him. The planes of his chest, taut and warm, brushed against your trembling hands as you clung to him, your fingers curling instinctively into his skin.
His dark eyes stayed locked on yours, a quiet intensity softening into something tender, something that left you breathless and uncertain. His lips hovered close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, each exhale ghosting across your cheek as his forehead dipped closer, brushing yours with infinite care.
“You need to ease up for me, okay, pretty girl?” he murmured, the gravel in his voice softened by the steady, soothing cadence of his words.
A soft whimper escaped your lips, trembling and unsure, as the stretch of his cock forced a fresh wave of shivers through you. Your thighs trembled on either side of his hips, your body tensing despite his careful pace. Each inch he gave you felt impossibly overwhelming, the fullness of him a constant, steady ache that bordered on too much.
Your chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, the weight of him pushing the air from your lungs with each shift of his hips. A tear slipped free before you could stop it, the overwhelmed sniffle that followed breaking the stillness between you.
“Hey, hey,” Jeno cooed, his hand finding your cheek like it belonged there, cradling you with infinite care. His thumb brushed the tear away before it could roll any further, his gaze softening even as his own breaths grew heavier. “I know, baby. I know it’s a lot.”
His words were gentle but steady, his tone so unwavering it felt like a tether, something to hold onto as your body struggled to adjust. He leaned closer, brushing his lips over the corner of your mouth in a kiss so soft it made your chest ache.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, the heat of his breath grazing your trembling lips. “Just trust me, yeah? I just want to make you feel good. That’s all I want, pretty girl.”
Your breath hitched again, the sound breaking unevenly as you tried to steady yourself beneath him. The weight of his words, the tenderness in his tone, melted into the vulnerability pressing heavy on your chest. You nodded hesitantly, your fingers tightening against the curve of his shoulders as though you needed to anchor yourself to him.
But when you glanced away, embarrassed by the flush of heat crawling up your neck, his hand caught your chin gently, tilting your face back toward him.
“Hey,” he whispered, the warmth in his voice curling around you like a blanket, quiet but unyielding. “Talk to me, baby. I need to know you’re okay.”
Your lips trembled, the words caught somewhere between the lump in your throat and the butterflies swarming in your stomach. “It’s… it’s my first time,” you finally admitted, the words barely audible, your voice breaking under the weight of them.
Jeno’s movements stilled immediately, his broad frame freezing over you as the confession settled between you. His jaw clenched briefly, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes was fleeting, replaced almost instantly by something warmer, softer.
“Oh, baby,” he murmured, the reverence in his voice making your chest tighten. His thumb stroked along your cheekbone, his touch steady and patient as though he was trying to tell you everything he felt without saying a word. “I’m so lucky.”
The way he said it, low and aching with sincerity, sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching toward him before you could stop yourself. He kissed you then, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so slow, so deep, it felt like time itself had slowed to accommodate it.
When he pulled back, his breath was heavier, a faint tremor running through him as he studied you. “How are you a virgin?” he asked softly, his voice dipping low enough to send heat curling through your stomach. “If I’d met you sooner… I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you.”
His words sent a flush of warmth cascading over your skin, your breath stuttering as you tried to respond. But the sincerity in his gaze held you, steadying you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.
“Until now,” you whispered, your fingers curling into his shoulders like you needed to hold on to something solid.
His breath hitched, his lips brushing against your temple in a kiss so tender it made your chest ache. “Until now,” he echoed, the reverence in his tone making your stomach flip.
He shifted slightly above you, his hips tilting forward just enough to press deeper, and the stretch sent a sharp gasp tumbling from your lips. His movements stilled instantly, his hand sliding to your waist to steady you as his lips hovered close to your ear.
“Too much?” he asked softly, his voice so gentle it nearly undid you.
You shook your head, your breath catching as you murmured, “Just… just go slow.”
The corners of his lips tugged upward, a faint smile breaking through the intensity of his expression. “I’ll go as slow as you need, baby,” he murmured, his tone steady and sure. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
His lips found yours again, capturing the soft sniffle that escaped as he began to move, each thrust measured and deliberate, his cock dragging against every sensitive part of you. His hands roamed gently over your body, his touch light but grounding as he whispered praises that melted into your skin.
“You’re doing so good for me,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. “Taking me so perfectly. My good girl, always.”
The tenderness in his tone, the heat in his gaze, the deliberate care in every movement—it all combined into something overwhelming and impossibly sweet, a connection that felt far too intimate to put into words. Your walls fluttered around him, the stretch easing as pleasure began to bloom low in your stomach, each gentle thrust coaxing you further into the rhythm of his body.
His forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with yours as he murmured, “You’re mine, baby. All mine. No one else gets to see you like this.”
The words sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach, your hips shifting tentatively against him as the ache dulled into something deeper, sweeter. His hand slid down to cup your hip, guiding you gently as his movements grew slightly more deliberate, the drag of his cock drawing soft whimpers from your throat.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice cracking as his lips trailed along your jaw. “You feel so good. So perfect for me.”
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your breath catching as his words melted into your skin, the heat of him overwhelming in the best way. Every inch of him, every touch, every whisper felt like a steady hum of electricity coursing through your veins, and as his lips found yours again, you felt yourself melting into him completely. But the burn was still there—sharp and all-consuming—and before you could stop yourself, your teeth pressed into the curve of his shoulder, a desperate attempt to muffle the whimper that escaped you. Tears slid down your cheeks, your breath trembling as you sniffled, your body shaking beneath him.
Jeno stilled instantly, his voice soft as he cooed at you, the words a balm against the ache. “Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your temple, your cheek, catching the tears as they fell. “You’re doing so good for me, angel. I’ll go slow, okay? Just the tip, just for you. You’ve got this.”
His thumb swept across your jaw, tipping your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze, dark and molten, filled with nothing but care. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised again, the words dripping with reverence. “You’re my girl. Whatever you need, I’ve got you.”
Your breath hitched as he began to move again, slow and deliberate, every inch of him dragging against the tender stretch inside you. Your hands fumbled for purchase on his shoulders, sliding up to his neck, your touch shaky and desperate. “Jeno,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible, trembling with every word. “You—you feel so good.”
His lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice thick with warmth, his hips tilting forward in a way that made you gasp.
“So good,” you whispered, your words tumbling out unbidden as heat flushed through your body. “You’re so big—so perfect. God, you fit inside me so well. I don’t—” You broke off, blinking up at him, your lips trembling as your thoughts scattered into a mess of heat and pleasure. “I don’t ever want you to leave. Jeno, your cock—it’s so good. You’re stretching me so perfectly. I can feel every part of you.”
A whimper caught in your throat as you babbled on, your head tipping back against the pillow. “I love it, Jeno. I love how you feel inside me. You’re so deep, so thick—I don’t want it to stop.”
His chuckle was low and rough, vibrating through your chest as he leaned in to press a kiss to your nose. “You’re such a sweet thing,” he murmured, his voice teasing but tender. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. So perfect. I’ll take care of you.”
Your thighs tightened around his waist as he shifted, the motion deliberate, deep, coaxing another broken cry from your lips. His hand slid along your side, pausing to cup your cheek as he brushed his thumb across your skin. “Look at you,” he said softly, his tone filled with awe. “Fucking perfect.”
The words melted into you, your chest tightening as you whimpered again, the sensation of him overwhelming and grounding all at once. “Please don’t stop,” you whispered, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. “Please, Jeno.”
“Never,” he murmured, his lips finding yours in a kiss so soft it made your stomach flutter. “I’ve got you, angel. Always.”
The promise in his words, in his tone, wrapped around you like silk, but even as you nodded, sniffling softly, you could feel the deliberate way his cock edged deeper, the fullness stretching you beyond what you thought possible. It was slow, so slow you could feel every ridge, every vein, and it made your breath hitch, a soft cry escaping your lips as tears slipped free.
“Shh,” he cooed, his forehead pressing harder against yours. “You’ve got this, angel. You’re so fucking perfect.” He shifted his weight slightly, tilting his hips in a way that made the stretch just bearable enough to keep going. “Fuck,” he groaned, the sound low and guttural as he bottomed out, his cock buried to the hilt. “Baby, you feel so fucking good. Like heaven.”
Your walls fluttered around him instinctively, the sensation pulling a soft, broken moan from your lips. “I—it’s so much,” you whimpered, your thighs trembling as you gripped him tighter, your nails digging crescents into his skin.
“I know, baby,” he murmured, kissing the tears from your cheeks, his lips impossibly soft. “I know it’s a lot, but look at you—look how well you’re taking me. God, you’re so good for me.”
Your breath hitched as his hand cradled your face, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek, wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. His gaze stayed locked on yours, warm and consuming, his expression so unguarded it made your chest ache. “Let me see those pretty eyes,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, each word dripping with reverence. “I want to see you, baby. Every part of you.”
You sniffled softly, blinking up at him, your lashes wet, your lips trembling as you melted further into his touch. His thumb lingered against your cheek, slow and gentle, before he leaned in and kissed your temple, soft and lingering.
“There she is,” he murmured, his voice warm and filled with awe. “That’s my girl. So beautiful. So perfect for me.”
When he moved again, it was torturously slow, his cock dragging against every inch of you, the stretch deep and unforgiving, yet impossibly good. Your nails dug into his back, desperate for an anchor as his hips rocked forward, every motion deliberate and controlled. It burned, but the way he filled you, the way his body molded perfectly against yours, had your breath catching.
A soft whimper escaped, your lips parting on a shaky moan. “Jeno…” you breathed, the words trailing off as heat flooded your body, the fullness overwhelming but addictive.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours. His hips rolled deeper, and he gritted his teeth, the sound low and guttural. “You’re so tight—so perfect. Like you were made for me.”
Your laugh was light, bubbling out unbidden, and his gaze flicked up, curious but amused, his lips curving into the smallest smile. “What’s funny, huh?” he teased, his tone playful, his hand shifting to cradle the back of your neck.
You shook your head, breathless and flushed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Nothing—nothing. You’re just… God, you’re so sexy.” Your voice cracked on the last word, your thoughts spilling in a soft, frantic rush. “The way you feel, the way you fuck me—it’s so good. You’re so good, Jeno.”
His smile widened, his eyes darkening as his hand slid up to catch yours, lacing your fingers together. “Yeah?” he murmured, kissing you with quiet intensity before guiding your joined hands above your head, pinning them against the pillow. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice dipping lower, filled with something possessive and raw. “I want you to be mine.”
Your breath hitched as he kissed your knuckles, slow and reverent, his other hand tracing your side, holding you steady as he pushed deeper. “I’ll never let go,” he promised, his gaze locked on yours, unwavering. “I’ll always take care of you, angel.”
His hips rolled again, a deliberate press that made you gasp, your head tipping back against the pillow as tears spilled freely. “You feel so good,” you whimpered, your voice breaking, your chest tightening with every drag of his cock. “You’re so perfect. So thick—fuck, you stretch me so good, Jeno.”
He groaned softly, his lips brushing yours in a fleeting kiss. “You love how I feel inside you, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice rough, teasing, but tender all the same.
“I love it,” you admitted, the words slipping out in a trembling rush. “I love your cock—it’s so big, so perfect. I never want you to stop.”
His grip on your hands tightened, his forehead dropping to yours as his lips curved into a smile. “You’re something else,” he murmured, chuckling softly, his breath fanning across your lips. “You’re incredible, baby.”
Your body trembled beneath him, every motion, every word sending a ripple of warmth through you. The intimacy of it, the way his hands never left yours, the way his eyes held yours, made you feel like you were falling deeper into him with every passing second.
“You’re everything,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth before his lips trailed to your jaw, his hips moving in a slow, devastating rhythm. “So fucking perfect, angel. My perfect girl. You’re all I’ll ever need.”
And when his gaze found yours again, dark and filled with unspoken promises, you knew he meant it. His movements stayed soft, measured, every drag of him a reminder of just how much he wanted you—how much he adored you. His hand never left yours, his grip steady and unwavering, as if to say he’d never let go. You believed him. In every touch, every word, every breath, you believed him completely.
The rhythm of his thrusts slowed, each one deliberate, the deep press of him inside you stealing the breath from your lungs. Your body arched against his, desperate to meet every movement, and the sound of his name fell from your lips in broken cries that only seemed to spur him on. His cock dragged against every sensitive part of you, and the stretch—sharp at first, now addictively sweet—had your thighs trembling around his waist.
“Fuck,” Jeno groaned, his forehead pressed to yours, his lips brushing against yours with every ragged breath. His hand slid along your side, tracing the curve of your waist as if he needed to feel every part of you. His other hand tangled with yours, pinning it above your head, his grip steady and possessive. “You’re so perfect, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so warm. God, you feel like heaven.”
Your fingers curled around his, clutching onto him like he was your lifeline. “Jeno,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the words. “You—oh my God—you feel so good. So deep. I never—” Your breath hitched, your head tipping back as his hips rolled again, deeper this time, hitting a spot that sent white-hot pleasure spiraling through your body.
“Never what?” he teased softly, his lips brushing over your jaw, his tongue flicking against your skin in a way that made you shiver. “Tell me, baby. Never what?”
“Never felt like this,” you admitted, your voice cracking as a moan slipped free. “Never had anyone… like you. Fuck, you’re so perfect, Jeno. You fit so good—so big. I don’t ever want you to leave.”
He groaned, the sound vibrating through your chest as he captured your lips in a kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in slow, languid strokes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his voice low and steady. “You’re mine, angel. Always.”
The intimacy of it, the way his body moved against yours, the way his eyes never left yours, made your chest ache with something deeper than desire. His movements were slow but devastating, every thrust deliberate, his cock dragging against your walls with a precision that had you clinging to him, your nails scraping along his back.
“Jeno,” you whimpered again, your voice a desperate plea as the pressure built low in your stomach, coiling tighter with every second.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing over yours. “Let go for me, baby. I’ll catch you. Always.”
And then, just as the tension inside you reached its breaking point, the faint sound of fireworks filtered through the room, muffled but distinct, a symphony of crackles and booms that seemed to echo the chaos in your body.
Jeno chuckled softly, the sound warm and low in your ear. “Happy New Year, beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
You giggled, the sound mixing with a soft, breathless moan as your body tightened around him, the pleasure too much to contain. “Happy New Year,” you managed to whisper back, your voice trembling with affection and something deeper, something bigger than either of you.
His hips rolled again, the deep, steady rhythm pushing you over the edge, and when your release hit, it came in a wave that left you trembling beneath him. Your walls clenched around him, pulling a guttural groan from his throat as his movements faltered, his body shuddering with his own release. He buried himself deep, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer as you clung to him, your arms tightening around his neck.
The fireworks outside crackled louder, their light seeping faintly through the curtains as his lips found yours again, soft and lingering. His hand stayed wrapped around yours, his grip firm, as his other hand smoothed over your side, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.
“You’re everything,” he murmured against your lips, his voice steady now, filled with quiet reverence. “Everything I’ve ever wanted.”
And in that moment, as his warmth surrounded you, his touch anchoring you in a way no one else ever had, you knew you’d never forget this. The way he fit against you, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go, the way he made you feel like you were everything.
⭑.ᐟ The coaches daughter - Lee Heeseung
A car accident has turned your life upside down, leaving you with a knee and ankle that ache like they belong to someone three times your age. Navigating college with these setbacks is hard enough, but when your overprotective dad insists you take an internship with the men’s hockey team, you’re thrust back into the world you’ve spent years avoiding. The rink represents everything you’ve lost—and then there’s Heeseung, the captain whom you somehow cannot stop thinking about.
series masterlist ⭑.ᐟ
ᝰ genre.
College sports aus, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, a lot of falling asleep in the same bed, some good old family drama .ᐟ₊ ⊹
ᝰ warnings.
Swearing, car crash, Y/N just had surgery and is using crutches, partying, some making out .ᐟ₊ ⊹
ᝰ word count.
30.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹
ᝰ an.I haven't written or published anything in like 8 years i think! And back then everything i wrote was in German so this was my first time propperly writing in English! I am not 100% pleased with this but i kinda also wanted to finally post this
The sound of crunching metal and the violent jolt of impact were the last things you remembered clearly from that day six years ago.
You had been sitting in the front seat, your legs tucked comfortably into the seat as your dad drove through the light rain on a Saturday morning.
“Soobin’s got nothing on me once I perfect my wrist shot,” you told your father excitedly, looking at him in the driver's seat. He nodded and briefly glanced at his phone in the cub holder, frowning when he saw a new message. He shifted in his seat, his focus divided.
You noticed the change in his expression but tried to keep the conversation light: “I was thinking... maybe you could watch the scrimmage today? I’ve been dying to show you how much better I’ve gotten.” Your voice held that hopeful edge, the one you always used when you wanted his approval.
“I’ll try, kiddo,” he said, though his tone was distracted. Before you could respond, your father’s eyes flicked back to the road—and froze. Ahead of the two of you, a truck skidded wildly through the intersection, its tires screeching on the wet pavement. Time seemed to slow as your father’s hands gripped the wheel, his mouth opening in a shout of warning that came too late.
The impact was deafening.
In the split second before the collision, you felt your father’s arm shoot out in front of you in a reflexive, futile attempt to shield your body from impact. Then, all at once, the world turned upside down. The sound of metal smashing against metal rang in your ears, so loud it felt like your head was splitting. Your body was thrown violently against the side of the car, your head slamming into the window with brutal force. You heard the crack of glass, the sharp crunch of bones, and then... pain. Blinding, searing pain exploded through your body, radiating from your foot up into your chest. It stole the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping, choking on your own breath.
Everything was chaos. The car spun, tipping slightly before jerking to a stop. For a moment, everything was still—then the world came rushing back in a torrent of pain and noise.
Your vision blurred as you tried to move, but your body wouldn’t respond. Your leg was pinned beneath the crumpled car door, and every tiny shift sent fresh waves of agony through your body. You could barely register the sound of your father’s frantic yelling, the way the rain tapped softly on the cracked windshield, the music that was still playing.
You blinked, your vision swimming as your father freed himself from the wreckage. You saw him stagger out of the car, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead, his expression panicked, desperate. He tried to open your door, but it was crushed inward, trapping you in place. You heard him shout your name, but the sound felt distant, muffled, as though you were underwater. Seconds later everything went dark.
You sat between Soobin and Minji, the faint hum of your mother bustling in the background. The whole room smelled of the kimchi stew your mom cooked for dinner. She placed the final dish down, her apron still tied loosely around her waist. “Soobin,” she said, smoothing a stray hair from her forehead and handing him a bowl of rice. “How was class today?”
Soobin scooped a generous spoonful from the bowl, a smile spreading as he dug in. “It was fine. Professor Kim’s still trying to crush our souls with assignments, though. I’ll probably have to pull another all-nighter.”
Minji snorted, leaning across the table with a teasing grin. “When do you not pull all-nighters?”
Soobin shot her a mock glare but didn’t argue. “The grind doesn’t stop,” he quipped.
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “What grind?” you teased, nudging his shoulder with your own.
The light banter bounced around the table, filling the room with laughter. Minji had just launched into a story about her teacher tripping during class when your father cleared his throat. The sound sliced through the warmth like a blade, dragging all attention toward him.
His focus was zeroed on you. You felt the weight of his question before he even opened his mouth.
“How’s physio going?” he asked, his tone more like an accusation than a question.
You kept your eyes on your plate, your fork idly pushing your food around. “It’s fine,” you said, trying to sound neutral. “I had a good session yesterday. I’m starting to put some weight on my foot.”
Your father’s fork froze mid-air, his expression darkening: “You’re already putting weight on it?” he asked, his voice tightening with disapproval.
“Yes, Dad,” you replied, bracing yourself. “That’s how rehab works. I don’t just stay on crutches forever.”
His hand gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening. “You’re rushing it. I’ve been around injuries my whole career. Just because the therapist said you can doesn’t mean you should.”
The fork in your hand trembled, and you set it down with a clink. The heat of frustration prickled at the back of your neck. “I’m following the plan they gave me. They know what they’re doing.”
Your father leaned forward, his voice rising. “No, they don’t. They don’t care about your long-term recovery. They just want you off their caseload so they can move on to the next patient.”
Anger surged in your chest, hot and sharp. “You’re not a doctor,” you snapped, your voice cutting through the tension like shattered glass. “I trust them more than I trust you when it comes to my body.”
The room fell into a suffocating silence. Minji’s hand hovered over her bowl, frozen mid-bite, while Soobin stared at his plate, his jaw clenched. You met your father’s gaze, refusing to look away.
His voice dropped to an icy calm, each word deliberate and cutting. “I’m just trying to keep you from making a mistake. But if you think you know better, fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you’re back in surgery.”
His words struck like a slap, but you swallowed the hurt, refusing to let it show. You clenched your fists under the table and took a big breath. Soobin glanced at you and nudged your foot with his in a silent sign of support.
“Actually, I was thinking about something that might help you,” your father continued in a casual tone, as if the argument moments ago hadn’t happened.
You blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt pivot. “What?”
“The athletic department needs someone for PR for the men’s hockey team,” he said, his voice laced with an almost forced enthusiasm. “It’s a great opportunity for you to earn the credits you missed last semester.”
Your stomach churned at the suggestion, the tension in the room amplifying tenfold. “No,” you said firmly. “Dad, I really don’t want to do that. I’m not into hockey anymore. You know that.”
“Why not? It’s a great way to get back into it. You did love it before the accident.” he pressed.
“You just answered your own question, Dad. Before the accident, I did love it.” You felt the frustration bubbling inside, fighting against the facade of calm you tried to maintain.
Your mother interjected, her voice firm but caring. “Woosung, you need to ease off. Pushing her into this isn’t the answer. We talked about this before.”
“Pushing? I’m just offering her a way back into something she once loved!” he snapped, his frustration mirroring your own.
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a mix of anger and hurt. “Mom, I appreciate you sticking up for me, but I can handle this. I do not want to do it, Dad.”
Your father leaned back, crossing his arms. “I thought you might appreciate having something to focus on, a way to ease back in.”
“It’s not about easing back in. It’s about not wanting to be part of that world anymore. I don’t want to help with hockey PR. I just want to focus on my studies and figure things out on my own,” you asserted, frustration edging your voice.
Your father’s expression hardened, but you could see the concern behind it. “I just wanted to see you succeed. I thought this could help.”
“It’s not what I need!” you exclaimed. “I’m tired of everyone expecting me to dive back into hockey just because I had so much potential. I don't have it anymore, okay? I need to figure out who I am without all of that. Helping with the team won't help me at all.”
“Fine,” he said curtly. “Do whatever you want.”
The rest of dinner passed in an unbearable silence, the warmth and laughter from earlier now a distant memory. The clink of dishes and the faint hum of the kitchen fan were the only sounds as you counted the seconds until you could leave.
When you finally stood to go to your room, your father called out from the living room, his voice gruff. “Y/N, just… don’t overdo it, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
You paused in the doorway, the faint light from the hallway casting shadows across the room. “I know,” you muttered, the words hollow.
As you made your way upstairs, the tightness in your chest refused to ease. In the sanctuary of your room, the air felt no lighter. You leaned back against your pillow, the familiar ceiling staring back at you.
The sound of skates scraping against the ice echoed faintly through the arena as Heeseung leaned against the boards, catching his breath. Practice had just wrapped up, and the team was filtering out of the rink, chattering about drills and weekend plans. Coach Choi stood near the bench, his clipboard tucked under his arm, his sharp gaze following the last few stragglers off the ice.
“Heeseung, got a minute?” the Coach called, his deep voice carrying easily over the ambient hum of the arena.
Heeseung turned, brushing a gloved hand over his damp hair. “Sure!”
He stepped off the ice, his blades clinking against the rubber flooring as he approached. His Coach gestured for him to sit down.
“I have been thinking about the team’s image,” the Coach began, his tone casual but deliberate.
Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Image?”
Coach nodded, tucking the clipboard under his arm. “Yeah. You boys are doing great on the ice, but you’re not just players—you’re prospects. Scouts, sponsors, even alumni donors—they pay attention to more than just your games. They want to see personalities, professionalism, something marketable for their teams.”
Heeseung crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the boards. “I am aware, sir. But what does that have to do with me?”
The Coach gave a small smile, the kind that hinted at plans already set in motion. “I’ve been in touch with the athletic department. They agreed we need someone to handle the team’s social media—build a strong public image, keep things polished.”
Heeseung tilted his head, curious. “A PR manager?”.
He wasn’t aware that the team had the funds to hire a person to post a few pics of them on instagram to appease the sponsors. As the captain he was included in quite a few organizational meetings and has had to endure endless lectures about how the boys are not supposed to go overboard when partying because it shines a bad light on the whole team and how it could compromise the career of everyone there. But never had he heard anything about a PR manager.
“Exactly. I was thinking of Y/N,” Coach said, nodding, “she is missing a few credits and this would be an easy and quick solution. That way we dont have to do interviews, since I do know my daughter quite well.”
Heeseung blinked, caught off guard. He knew you, if only vaguely. You have met at a few team events over the last year and at a few parties. Soobin introduced you as his sister and warned everyone that you were off-limits. He knew that Beomgyu was quite close to you, so he assumed you weren’t off limits for everyone. The few conversations you had with him gave him the impression that you were quite fun. He also knew that you were hot. He respectfully checked you out a few times and then mentally bleached his eyes, when he realized whom he was looking at.
“Your daughter?” he asked your father, his coach.
The Coach nodded, his expression softening slightly. “She knows hockey inside and out. And she’s good with this kind of stuff—social media, PR, that kind of thing. It’ll be good for her, and it’ll help the team.”
Heeseung hesitated. He didn’t know you well enough to have an opinion, but he could guess that working alongside the team—especially under your father’s watchful eye—wouldn’t be simple. Soobin had told him that his father was quite overbearing with his sister after a car accident and how it's annoying the whole family.
“Are you sure she wants to do this?” Heeseung asked carefully.
Coach’s expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “She’ll do fine. She’s been looking for something to focus on, and this is a good opportunity for her. Plus, it’s not like she’s starting from scratch—she grew up around this sport.”
Heeseung nodded slowly, still uncertain. “Okay. What do you need from me?”
“I need you to help make this transition smooth,” Coach said, his tone firm. “She’s going to be around a lot, and I don’t want her feeling like she’s an outsider. Make sure the guys treat her with respect, and if she needs anything, you help her out.”
Heeseung frowned slightly. “You’re not asking me to babysit her, right?”
Coach let out a low chuckle. “No, she doesn’t need babysitting. But you’re the captain. It’s part of your job to make sure the team stays cohesive. She’s here to help, not to be a distraction or a target.”
Heeseung considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Got it. When does she start?”
“Next week,” Coach said, his tone decisive. “The athletic department’s finalizing the details, but she’ll be here soon enough.”
As he walked away, his thoughts lingered on the unexpected news. He knew having you around would be an adjustment for the team—and maybe for you, too. But if Coach trusted you to take on this role, then he’d make sure to give you a fair shot.
“Y/N! Over here!” Chaeryoung exclaimed when you entered the small café on campus the next day. The café had been closed for a few weeks after the original owner passed away, and his son had taken over. Many students visited the old barista more than once a week, and everyone had been distraught by the news of his passing. When his son reopened the café, getting a seat had become quite a challenge.
You slid into the booth opposite Chaeryoung and carefully set down your crutches, making sure they were out of the way of the bustling café. The warm aroma of coffee and fresh pastries enveloped you as you took a moment to soak in the familiar atmosphere. “Hi, guys! It's so nice to be back here. How was Kinesiology today? Did your presentation go well?”
“Ugh,” Yeji groaned, dramatically resting her head on your shoulder. “I don't even want to think about it. I thought I was okay until Sunghoon and EJ presented. Now I feel utterly incompetent.”
Chaeryoung chuckled, shaking her head with a teasing smirk. “You’re being dramatic! What did you expect? They’ve got that whole jock thing going for them.”
“Not to feel like an idiot because some utterly pretty hockey players have the time to create a more or less perfect presentation even though they don’t have time for anything but training and partying?” Yeji retorted, her voice rising in exasperation. She turned to you, her expression softening. “We already ordered for you. I hope you’re alright with hot chocolate?”
“Sure! Thank you, love. Also, Sunghoon isn’t a hockey jock, he’s an ice skater,” you reminded your friends with a knowing grin.
“Hockey, skating, yada yada, it’s all the same. They spend a lot of time on the ice,” Ryujin shrugged.
Lia leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Speaking of ice hockey players, I had international law with Jay today. He looked like he was going to slam his head into the table when Professor Binns started handing out the grading sheets for the exams. Did their game not go well last week?”
You shrugged, the corners of your mouth twitching up as you recalled the conversation with Soobin. “Considering my dad told Soobin relatively harshly he’s supposed to get his head back in the game, I assume it didn’t go well"
“Oh, bummer. That’s probably why they didn’t go to the swimming team’s party last weekend. It was wild!" Chaeryoung nodded, her enthusiasm infectious.
“What party?” you asked, genuinely curious, since you’d been out of town visiting your aunt in Riverfield.
“Felix invited us to a party at their house. Well, it started as a small meetup, but suddenly it wasn’t small anymore,” Chaeryoung explained, her eyes widening at the memory.
Yeji waved her hand dismissively. “You didn’t miss out on anything, though. We ended up leaving early because it got a little too crazy for my taste,” she said, accepting the steaming drinks from the waitress.
You opened the door to your families house. The aroma of the reheated Samgyetang from the day before wafted through the air, instantly making your stomach growl.
“Hey, you’re back!” Soobin called from the living room, where he was sprawled on the couch, game controller in hand. He glanced up, pausing his game. “Did you bring me anything?”
You shook your head, laughing. “If you wanted something from Corner's Creek, you should have told me when we saw each other in the cafeteria.”
“Pfft, why should I even have to ask? If I were you, I’d bring my precious brother some cake without him having to ask,” he replied, flashing a cheeky grin. “How was the café? Still as good as when Mr. Yoon was there?”
“Yeah. His son changed a few of the drinks on the menu, but they sounded nice! And they now do those cookie croissant waffle thingies? Amazing, honestly.” You plopped down on the sofa next to your older brother, carefully lifting up your leg into a more comfortable position. Soobin made an interesting noise at the thought of eating one of those.
“Did you think about the internship offer Dad gave you? I heard him talking to Heeseung about it. How you’re missing credits and how he wants you to take it,” your brother asked, tone careful.
“Don’t get me started on it. He’s been pushing this internship with the hockey team on me like it’s life or death,” you said, stirring your chili absentmindedly.
“Maybe he just wants to connect with you.” Soobin’s tone softened. “He might think this internship is a way to bridge the gap. You know it’s his world—and it was yours too, before the accident.”
You sighed, leaning against the counter. “You’re starting to sound like him. Honestly, Soobin, that’s not supposed to happen until I’m an aunt to your kids. I just don’t care about hockey anymore. It feels like every time I turn around, it’s all about hockey, hockey, hockey.”
“Look, Y/N, I get it. But if you need those credits to graduate, maybe it’s worth considering.” He crossed his arms, looking at you earnestly. “If anyone gives you trouble, I’ll have your back. I’ll just remind them that I’m still the older brother and boss around here.”
You couldn’t help but laugh dryly. “Right, you’ll just walk in and be like, ‘Watch out, boys! Y/N’s brother is here!’”
“Exactly!” He chuckled, and for a moment, the tension eased. “But seriously, you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. If you can handle what you’ve been through, this internship is nothing.”
“Maybe. I just wish it didn’t feel so… forced,” you replied, blowing on the steaming food on your spoon. “I want to find something I’m passionate about. Also, it feels unfair to others who actually care about it. I’d be something of a nepo baby.”
“It’s just one semester. If you hate it, you can quit. But at least you’ll know you tried. Plus, who knows? You might end up being the best hockey PR person out there. I mean, what do you think I hear? Coach’s son playing in his team, the co-captain? Nepo baby runs in our blood."
You rolled your eyes again, but this time, there was a hint of a smile. “I’ll think about it, okay? But I’m not making any promises.”
“Fair enough.” Soobin shrugged, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just promise me you’ll at least consider it. Besides, it’s not like you have any better options right now.”
You nodded slowly, knowing he was right. “Yeah, I guess.”
After a night brooding over what Soobin said, you decided to go with it and accept the offer. He was right—if anything, it was just one semester, right? You’d get your credits, your dad would get off your back, and you’d have Soobin and your father, the literal coach, as backup if you needed it.
So after your last class the day after, you went to the ice rink and carefully knocked on the door to your father’s office.
“Come in,” your father called through the closed door. You opened the door and pressed your lips into a tight smile when you saw him hunched over some documents
“Y/N,” he stood up, “how can I help you?”
You walked closer to his table and sat down in the chair across from his desk. “I talked to Soobin yesterday. About the internship.”
A moment of silence stretched on as your father waited for you to continue.
“Did you decide to take up my offer?” he asked.
You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I decided to give it a shot. Just for one semester, though. I’m not promising anything beyond that.”
Your father’s expression shifted from anticipation to a mixture of relief and disappointment. “That’s great, Y/N! I really think this could be a good opportunity for you. You’ll learn a lot about PR and social media, and you might even discover a new passion.”
You rolled your eyes, already feeling the frustration bubbling up inside you. “Dad, it’s not about discovering a passion for hockey or PR. I just need the credits to graduate. I’m not expecting some life-changing revelation from this.”
“Then why even bother?” he retorted, crossing his arms defensively. “If you’re going into it with that attitude, you won’t get anything out of it.”
“Because I don’t want to keep disappointing you,” you shot back, your voice rising. “You’ve made it pretty clear that you think I should be involved in hockey somehow. This is just a way to keep the peace, right?”
Your father clenched his jaw, visibly frustrated. “I’m not trying to force you into anything, Y/N. I just thought you’d want to be part of something that means so much to our family. This isn’t just about hockey; it’s about being part of a team, a community.”
You leaned forward, your palms pressing against the cool surface of his desk. “But I don’t want to be part of that community, Dad! Not anymore! All I ever hear from you is hockey, hockey, hockey. I care about things other than hockey.”
He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “I didn’t mean to put that pressure on you. But you need to understand that I’m proud of what I do, and I thought you’d want to be a part of it. I thought maybe being around the team would help you feel less isolated."
You stood too, feeling a mixture of anger and hurt. “It’s not about your pride, Dad! It’s about my life and my choices. I don’t want to feel obligated to fulfill your expectations. I just want to be me. And for the record, I am not isolated. I have friends and a life! It’s just not hockey.”
He softened for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. “I know, Y/N. But you have to understand that I’m coming from a place of love. I want the best for you. I thought this would help you find your way, especially with how difficult things have been for you.”
“Maybe you need to let me find my own way instead of trying to steer me down the path you’ve laid out,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you.
For a moment, silence hung between you, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.
“Okay,” he finally said, his voice quieter. “I’ll back off. But I hope you give this a real chance, for both our sakes.”
You nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and uncertainty. “I’ll try, Dad. But just know I’m doing this for me, not for you.”
He offered a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
You arrived at the rink an hour earlier than scheduled, more out of nervousness than necessity. The familiar smell of the ice, mixed with the faint hum of the arena’s machinery, makes you stop for a second.
Standing near the glass, you watched a few players skate laps. The sounds of blades cutting into the ice reverberate in the empty rink, and for a moment, you feel a pull in your chest.
You press your crutches into the ground, standing straighter as you try to shake off the creeping frustration. You've gotten good at suppressing it over the years, convincing yourself that you’ve moved on.
“Are you lost or something?”
You blink and turn to see Heeseung, standing a few feet away, looking amused. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear him approach until his voice interrupted your moment of self pity. You turned around and caught the moment where he recognized you.
“Y/N? Didn’t expect to see you here this early.” He settled his bag down next to you.
“I could say the same to you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “But I guess the captain needs to be the first one on the ice, right?”
Heeseung grinned and shrugged. “Part of the job,” he said, then nodded towards the rink. “Are you already trying to figure out how to make those losers good on Tiktok?”
You shifted your weight slightly, gripping your crutches a little tighter. “Something like that,” you muttered, glancing back at the ice.
He looked at you. “You sound thrilled.”
“Yeah, I am absolutely thrilled,” you said, your voice cool.
“Did your dad convince you to do this?”, his eyes softened a bit.
You didn’t know how much Heeseung already knew about your situation, how much Soobin or his friends that you were also close to have told him so you just shrugged: “Honestly? Kinda. But what can I say, I am here now so there is no turning back, right?”
“God wait until you get to know the others. You will regret your decision. I don’t think we have a lot of potential to be the Tiktok star your dad wants us to be.”, he chuckled
“God Hee, don’t remind me.”, you lean your head onto the glass that separated you and the rink, cringing at the cold sensation. He laughed out loud and patted your back.
Someone shouted his name and he grabbed his gear from the floor, while you leaned back again.
“Alright,” he said, watching you with a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’ll leave you to do your very important PR duties. But, uh, if you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.”
He pushed his hair out of his face and winked at you. You just rolled your eyes and bid him goodbye.
Your office was a small, window-lit room with one side dominated by clutter. On the messy side, stacks of papers, unopened mail, and scattered office supplies covered multiple surfaces, including an old wooden filing cabinet. A half-empty bookshelf leaned under the weight of folders, some piled haphazardly on top of one another. Boxes of miscellaneous items were stacked in a corner, threatening to topple.
In one corner stood a seemingly clean desk, which you assumed to be the one you would be working from. You settled in, trying to ignore the mess on the other side of the room, while pulling out your laptop to take a look at the team’s social media accounts.
A few hours later, you found yourself sitting in front of a flipchart, surrounded by notes and scribbles of ideas for content. Your research had turned up dozens of trends and challenges that could work for the hockey team’s social accounts, but your enthusiasm was running low. The chair you were sitting on felt like it was designed for maximum discomfort, and you were seriously considering bringing your wheelchair the next time. You sighed, shifting your weight in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position. Your hip started aching about 20 minutes ago.
Just then, the door creaked open slightly, and Heeseung’s head popped in. “You surviving in here?"
Without looking up, you muttered, “Barely. What do you want, Heeseung?”
He chuckled and stepped fully into the room, leaning casually against the wall. “Nothing much,” he said, flashing his trademark grin. “Just thought I’d check in. You know, make sure the new PR girl isn’t drowning in spreadsheets or choking on influencer jargon.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m not drowning. Yet.”
“Well, that’s good,” he replied, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer to the desk. “Though you kinda look like you’re this close from walking out of here and never coming back.”
You snorted despite yourself, leaning back and stretching your arms. “Trust me. This chair? Torture. It makes me want to get out of here asap.”
As he moved closer, you noticed a faint, fresh scent—like soap and something woody, maybe a hint of citrus. He must have just showered. His hair was still damp, a little messy. He looked very attractive in the annoyingly bright light of your office.
Heeseung pulled up a chair for himself and sat down across from you, resting his arms on the table. “So, what’s the plan? Are you trying to turn us into TikTok stars?”
You shrugged, gesturing to the flipchart. “That, or I’ll at least try to make sure you guys don’t look like total idiots online. There’s a fine line. A good start would be acceptable Instagram accounts. Tell me why some of you post random pictures of food with 20 filters slapped onto them.” You shifted in your seat, trying to ignore how nice he smelled, but it was hard not to notice. You weren't sure why, but it was definitely a little distracting. Get a grip, Y/N.
“Ah, come on,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “We’re already halfway to ‘total idiots.’ You’ll just make us look... what? Funny idiots? Also my Instagram is pretty and aesthetic!”
“Something like that,” you muttered, unable to suppress a small smile. “I found some trends, figured we could hop on a few of them. I’ve got ideas for locker room Q&As, pre-game routines, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a plan,” Heeseung said, nodding as he scanned the notes. “So, when do we start?”
“We?” you scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Last I checked, I’m the PR person. You’re just the guy with a stick trying to hit a rubber thingy.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, Y/N. You’ll need my charming face to pull off half of these ideas.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, though it was becoming less from irritation and more out of habit. “Oh yeah, because that’s exactly what’s going to save this campaign—your charm.”
“Admit it,” he teased, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You know I’m right.”
“Admit what? That you’ve got an ego the size of this rink?” you shot back, shaking your head. “Yeah, no thanks.”
Heeseung grinned, clearly unfazed by your sarcasm. “Hey, can’t blame a guy for knowing his strengths.”
You let out a soft chuckle. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Heeseung."
He stood up, stretching lazily, and you noticed how his shirt pulled just slightly across his chest. You quickly averted your eyes, but not before catching the way his muscles shifted beneath the fabric. Okay, yeah. Definitely kind of hot.
“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your spreadsheets and dance challenges. But seriously, if you need anything—or, you know, some extra ‘charm’—you know where to find me.”
You smirked, shooing him toward the door. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now go away, I’ve got real work to do.”
He threw you a mock salute as he backed out of the room. “Yes, ma’am. Just don’t forget to give me a heads-up when you need me to be the face of your operation.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” you called after him, shaking your head as the door closed behind him.
The next day, you were sitting at a round table in the student library, your textbooks spread out in front of you, trying to focus on the notes for your upcoming exam. Chaeryong sat next to you, furiously typing something into her laptop, while Beomgyu, who had already given up on studying, leaned back in his chair with his phone in hand, holding your injured leg on his lap.
You sighed and leaned back in your chair, finally breaking the silence. "I took that internship, by the way."
Ryujin looked up from her screen, raising an eyebrow. "The hockey one?"
You nodded. "Yeah, the PR thing for the men’s team. Dad convinced me, and Soobin kind of guilted me into it too. It’s only for a semester, so I figured I might as well."
Beomgyu snorted, glancing up from his phone. "Oh boy, you’re going to be stuck with us now. We’ll have to treat you like royalty, Coach’s daughter."
You rolled your eyes. "Please don’t. The last thing I need is people treating me any differently."
"Don’t worry," Beomgyu grinned, his eyes playful. "I’ll make sure the team knows to mess with you as much as possible. No special treatment."
Before you could continue, the conversation was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.
“Hey, there you are!” Soobin’s tall frame came into view, followed closely by Yeonjun, who stopped behind Chaeryoung to press a kiss onto her head: ”Hi baby.”
She glanced at them, unimpressed. “What’s this about?"
“We’re kidnapping them,” Yeonjun said with a smirk, gesturing at you and Beomgyu. “Coach needs everyone at practice, and Y/N here has a meeting with the team.”
Beomgyu groaned, half-joking as he packed up his things. “And here I was, hoping to spend my afternoon in peace. Guess not.”
You, however, were a little more reluctant. “Wait, I thought I didn’t have to do anything with the team until later this week? I haven’t finished on collecting my thoughts? I am starting from 0 and i am not investing my free time into research?”
Soobin shook his head, grinning. “Nope, the sooner you meet everyone, the better.”
Chaeryoung leaned back in her chair, laughing. “Good luck with that, Y/N. You’re going to need it.”
You shot her a look before standing up, grabbing your crutches, and letting Soobin lead the way.
The locker room door swung open and the noise (and borderline disgusting smell) hit you all at once— talking, laughing, skates clinking. Yeonjun clapped his hands together and announced dramatically, “Alright, listen up! We have a very important guest today.”
Beomgyu chimed in, “Try not to scare her off, okay? She’s family. Like in a literal and theoretical way.”
You rolled your eyes at their antics but couldn’t help smiling. These two were practically brothers to you—they spent so much time at your house growing up that your mom would always joke that she had three sons instead of one. When all three of them got accepted into the sports scholarship Delicis offered your parents threw a party for their sons, which ended in all of you crashing over at Yeonjuns place after you all drank a bit too much of the sparkling wine. Just the thought of the day after made your stomach upset.
Heeseung, sitting on a bench tying his skates, looked up and spotted you. He grinned at you as he stood up, leaning casually against the lockers. “Hey, if it isn’t our new PR expert. Early again. You sure you’re not secretly excited to be here?”
You scoffed, leaning into your crutches a bit. “No, Heeseung, I’m not excited to be here. I was kidnapped and should be studying econ right now.”
Jay, who was in the same economy course as you, groaned. "Please don't remind me. I feel like I am at least 10 weeks behind and the semester started four weeks ago."
A few of the guys laughed, but Soobin interrupted them: “Alright, listen up,” he said, his voice carrying authority. “Y/N’s going to be helping us with PR this season. Treat her with respect and do what she says, got it?”
Trying to ease your own discomfort, you forced a smile and crossed your arms. “Look, I’m just here to do my job. I won’t annoy you all too much!”
One of the players, EJ?, leaned back against the lockers with a smirk. “Does that mean we are going to be the next Charlie D’amilio?”
You laughed, unable to help yourself. “That depends. Can you dance?”
Jake, still sitting with his skates half-done, quipped, “I’d pay to see EJ try to pull off one of those TikTok dances.”
The room erupted in laughter and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders release at the sound.
A few days later, you opted to skip class after an especially grueling session of physiotherapy.
You lay sprawled on the worn sofa in Ryujin’s appartment, breathing in the comforting aroma of spaghetti carbonara simmering in the kitchen.
You called out over the sizzling bacon, “I swear to God. I can feel the bruises coming. My legs and my left ass cheek are going to be black and blue tomorrow. I won’t be able to properly sit down!”
“Nobody is seeing your legs or your ass, girl. Just wear a pair of pants, and the problem is solved,” Ryujin shot back, stirring the pan with a wooden spoon. The warm, buttery smell mingled with the salty scent of bacon, making your stomach growl in anticipation.
“Unless you want to show someone your ass?” she teased, glancing back at you with a playful smirk.
“Not really. Who would want to see my blue and black scarred arse unprompted? Do you want to see? I’ll undress just for you, baby. Magic Mike style. Magic Y/N!” You wiggled your eyebrows, shifting the frozen chickpeas from your ankle to heave yourself into your wheelchair.
Ryujin rolled her eyes, laughing as she scooped the cooked pasta into the pan. “I love you, and I have seen plenty of your naked ass already, but I don’t need you to erotically strip for me, Y/N. You are not really my type, I’m sorry.”
You clutched your chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Ryujin!”
“Ha ha! I’m sure we can find someone who would like to see your ass. There are plenty of hot guys on campus that are horny 24/7,” she shot back, glancing over her shoulder as she added a sprinkle of cheese to the mix.
“Sure. And 25 of them are on the hockey team,” you deadpanned, your mind wandering to the group of boys you were now working with. The thought of the players made you chuckle to yourself.
“I mean, sure. But all 25? Soobin is part of that horny group as well?” Ryujin handed your cutlery.
“Honestly? Yeah. I mean, Dad is pretty strict with him and Minji about dating since he thinks they would get distracted, but Soobin definitely appreciates some good-looking arses. Not mine, though. That would be disgusting.” You shuddered at the thought.
“Girl. Ew,” Ryujin replied flatly, shaking her head, and you both burst into laughter.
A few hours later, you rolled into the rink, greeted by the sound of skates scraping against ice and the faint scent of sweat. The boys’ training session was already in full swing, punctuated by grunts and your dad’s authoritative voice barking out encouragement and critiques.
Navigating your way through the rink was fairly manageable in your wheelchair. You opted to maneuver around the rink rather than suffer through sitting on that demonic seat in your office for a few hours, especially after gaining a few bruises on your behind and legs. Seriously, your physiotherapist could have not put her entire body weight on her elbow. You didn’t care that it would help your muscles relax? About every muscle in your body was tensed while she tried to relax one in your arse?
You had asked your dad for a few items from home to make the room feel a bit more inviting. You made him buy some more plants and a floor lamp for a more comfortable light source. A cherry and a pink dinosaur sonny angel were sitting on your desk alongside the greenery. You brought printed pictures of your friends and various art prints, but without your crutches, you decided to leave the task of hanging them up for another day. If you were to work here for the next six months you could definitely personalize the room a bit.
You were mid-scroll through your R&B playlist when you heard a light knock on your office door. Without looking up, you called out, “Come in!”
Yeonjun poked his head in, flashing his usual grin. “Hello my dearest Y/N!”
Behind him, Soobin and Beomgyu strolled in, still in their sweaty practice gear, looking completely worn out. Beomgyu flopped dramatically into the chair near your desk that Heeseung never put back.
“Yeah, sure, come in and just take over my whole workspace with your stinky gear,” you teased, though you didn’t mind the company.
Beomgyu groaned, stretching his legs out like he owned the place. “This break isn’t long enough. Coach is killing us out there. I swear I’m going to die.”
Soobin rolled his eyes, perching on the edge of your desk while Yeonjun leaned against the wall. “You’ll survive. We’ve had worse drills.”
Yeonjun smirked. “Speak for yourself. I’m not built for this much cardio.”
You laughed. “Maybe you should stick to dancing for TikTok, Yeonjun. You know, where you can actually breathe.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “That’s where my talents really shine. Wait until you see the TikToks I’ll be making for the team.”
When it was time for the boys to go back into the rink all three of them groaned. Beomgyu let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’m not moving from this chair. I don’t care that its uncomfortable.”
Yeonjun glanced around the room, raising an eyebrow at the mismatched furniture. “Speaking of uncomfortable... this office is seriously lacking. We need to get Coach to clear out the second half of the room so we can put in a sofa or something.”
You glanced at the cluttered back half of the office, filled with old sports equipment, boxes, and random items. “You’re not wrong. This place could use some serious cleaning.”
Beomgyu perked up. “Oh, a sofa would be amazing. We could take naps during breaks.”
You grinned, but gave Soobin a playful push toward the door. “Okay, okay, design committee. Go back to practice before Dad drags you out of here himself.”
As they shuffled out, Beomgyu gave you a lazy salute. “We’ll be back with a proposal for the Coach!”
You laughed, shaking your head as they left the room, leaving you in the quiet once again
Heeseung had been at the rink longer than usual tonight. After practice had officially ended, he stayed behind for some extra drills, working on his shots while his mind wandered.
He was standing in the shower after, letting the hot water wash away the tension from his muscles. The clean scent of soap and his woodsy cologne clung to him as he dressed, ready to finally head home. He was on his way out, thinking about his bed, when he saw the light still on in your office room.
He peered through the open door and saw you still at your desk, your face illuminated by the glow of your laptop. He hadn’t expected to see you there so late. Most of the team had left, and the rink was practically deserted. What were you still doing here?
He knocked lightly on the doorframe. “You’re still here?”
You glanced up, looking more exhausted than surprised.
“You too?” you shot back, though there was a flicker of warmth in your tired eyes. “I thought everyone had gone home by now.”
“I did some extra laps,” he said with a lazy smirk as he stepped inside, making his way over to your desk, his damp hair falling slightly into his eyes. His eyes drifted across the various decorations you had brought into the office.
He picked up one of the tiny figurines from your desk and turned it over in his hand with a grin. “What’s with these little guys? A personal touch?”
You gave him a mock glare, clearly more amused than offended. “They’re called sonny angels, and yes, this office was depressing. I needed to liven it up.”
Heeseung laughed softly, putting the figurine back down carefully. “Why would you bring naked angles.”
You rolled your eyes again. “Don’t make fun of my babies. Besides, I’m pretty sure a pink dinosaur would look amazing in your locker. Might even give you a few extra goals on the ice.”
Heeseung laughed, setting the figure down gently. “Oh, for sure. Nothing screams ‘fearless hockey captain’ like a pink dinosaur mascot.”, he sat down on the edge of your desk, “So, what’s keeping you here so late?”
You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Just finishing up a presentation for the team. It’s taking longer than I thought.”
Heeseung glanced over at the cluttered desk, noting the piles of papers and sticky notes you were using. “And you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Nope. I like torturing myself,” you said dryly, then raised an eyebrow as he continued to toy with one of the angels. “Are you done judging my office decor now?”
Heeseung twirled the figurine in his fingers, then squinted at it. They did look cute, somehow. “I mean, I’ve got questions. First off, what’s up with this one?” He held up a small pink angel wearing a dinosaur costume. “Did you really choose this? And why is the other one naked?”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “No! I wanted the red dinosaur one but kept getting the pink one instead. Three times! So, this is what I’m stuck with. And honestly I am not sure but they are cute.”
Heeseung laughed, genuinely amused by the annoyance in your voice. “So you’re telling me this cute little thing is the result of failure? That’s tragic.” He shook his head, mock-sympathetic, before placing the pink dinosaur angel thing back on your desk with exaggerated care
“Tragic doesn’t even cover it,” you replied with a deadpan expression. “I have one in my room, one in my car, and now this sad thing is stuck here, reminding me of my poor luck every day.”
Heeseung chuckled. “Well, pink dinosaur or not, it’s got character.” You just laughed at that.
He watched you for a moment, noticing how your shoulders were slightly hunched. His gaze dropped to the wheelchair you were sitting in. He hadn’t seen you in it much before today. You usually relied on crutches when you were out and about. His curiosity got the better of him: “You alright today?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Saw you using the chair earlier. Tough day?”
You hesitated, and for a moment, he thought you wouldn’t answer. But then you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Physio was brutal. Sometimes it’s just easier to use the chair instead of crutches. Less strain, you know?”
Heeseung nodded slowly, processing your words. His chest tightened a little at how nonchalantly you explained it. Like it was just another part of your day, no big deal. He wished he could ask more—about what happened, how you went from being an athlete to sitting in this chair—but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It wasn’t his place, and he wasn’t about to make you relive something painful just to satisfy his curiosity. He couldn’t imagine having to adjust to something like that, especially after living a life as active as yours. Soobin claimed you were good—like, really good, that you had a future in hockey, but... He shook the thought away, not wanting to dwell on what you had lost. It didn’t seem fair, and it wasn’t something he could fix.
“You know,” he said, looking around in the room. “This office still feels so crammed and uninviting. You need a couch or something.”
You raised an eyebrow, your playful smirk returning. “A couch, huh? You are the second person to tell me that today?”
He grinned, setting the picture back down. “Actually, Yeonjun and I were thinking about it even before you had the office. We need to get Coach to clear out the junk on the other side of the room so we can move in a couch. You’d have a nice place to chill while pretending to work.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “And by ‘chill,’ you mean take naps, right?”
“Exactly. I’d probably use it more than you.” He made a mental note to talk to the Coach and Yeonjun about it. The two of them almost had the Coach to approve of their idea before it was decided you would move into this room. Honestly it was probably better for them to not have a sofa here. He got a headache when he thought of the prospect of finding people doing something unholy here.
Heeseung glanced at the clock. It was late—too late for you to still be working and for him to still be in the rink. He frowned, leaning back on the desk. “You’re not staying here alone, right?” he asked, his voice a little more serious.
You looked up. “I’m almost done. I’ll leave soon.
“Yeah, no,” Heeseung said, shaking his head. “I’m not leaving you here by yourself. It’s dark, and the rink is practically empty.”
You gave him a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “You’re not seriously going to babysit me, are you?”
He crossed his arms, standing firm. “Pretty much. I’m not letting you argue your way out of this.”
You sighed, clearly not in the mood to fight him on it. “Fine,” you relented, though he could tell you weren’t really annoyed. “But I’ll be here a while. I still have some things to finish.”
He grinned, leaning back on your desk like he had all the time in the world. “I’m great company, remember? Besides, someone’s gotta make sure your pink angel dinosaur thingy doesn’t run away.”
You laughed, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “I think I can handle my own angels, but... thanks.”
He plopped himself down in your empty office chair, watching as you worked, occasionally teasing you about the presentation or critiquing the décor you’d added to the room.
When you stepped into the rink after your classes on Thursday, the first thing you noticed was Jay, EJ, and Beomgyu hauling the old wooden filing cabinet that had been collecting dust in your office. They were making quite the effort, each one grunting as they maneuvered the bulky piece of furniture toward the exit. All three were struggling, shouting different variations of "Hey!" as they saw you walk in.
“Hi! What's going on here?” you called out, laughing a little at the sight.
Beomgyu glanced back at you, a proud grin on his face. “We’re upgrading your office!” he shouted, nearly dropping his end of the cabinet as they stumbled toward the exit.
“Oh?” you scrunched your nose in confusion.
On your way to your office, you passed a couple more of the boys—Taehyun, Jake, and even Sunghoon—all carrying random bits of old furniture and equipment that must’ve been living in your office forever. The rink seemed unusually lively for an off day.
When you finally stepped into your office, you were met with the sight of Soobin, Heeseung, and Yeonjun cleaning the floor of the cluttered side of the small room. While Jay was reading the instructions to the frame of a ikea sofa, which was still in its parcells leaned next to the door.
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, seriously… What’s going on?”
Soobin shot you a sheepish grin. “Well, I figured that after Dad basically forced you and I guilt tripped you into accepting the internship, the least we could do is make this place less awful.”
“So we talked to Coach Lee,” Heeseung added, clearly amused by the situation. “And your dad.” He grinned, standing with his arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. “And guess what? You’re getting a sofa. A nice one too.”
Your eyebrows shot up.
“Yeah, well,” Soobin jumped in, “Coach Lee kind of convinced him. Said you needed a place to rest. And since Dad’s all for you being extra careful, he gave in. Reluctantly. He wasn’t thrilled, but he said yes.”
Yeonjun smirked from his spot against the desk. “So, congratulations on your sofa.”
You blinked, still trying to process. “You really convinced him to get you your sofa? For the record, that was fully your idea, I did not wish for one.” You looked around, almost not believing it.
Yeonjun, who had been lounging on the cleared desk, leaned forward. “Hey, we’re doing this for you, alright? You deserve a place to chill. But, you know... if a nap happens here or there...”
“Yeah, I figured,” you teased, rolling your eyes, “of course. You’re all just so thoughtful.” But despite your playful tone, you really were touched. They’d gone through the trouble of getting permission from your dad, which was no easy task, and now they were basically transforming your workspace into something a lot more comfortable.
Soobin shrugged, feigning indifference. “Hey, at least now you won’t be stuck in this depressing office.”
“Yeah,” Heeseung chimed in, his grin growing wider. “And now you’ll have even more space for your red dinosaur angel collection.”
Yeonjun gasped theatrically, hand over his heart like you’d just broken some unspoken rule. “Wait, wait, wait—you pulled the red one and didn’t tell me? What kind of betrayal is this?”
You groaned, already regretting letting them see your desk decorations,“They’re Sonny Angels!" You sighed, shaking your head. “I didn’t pull the red one, Yeonjun.”
Heeseung chuckled, walking over to your desk, picking up one of your Sonny Angels. “Well, when you do, make sure to put it right here. It can be the centerpiece of the whole office.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, but the teasing was making it hard to stay serious. “I’m not turning this office into a shrine for my Angels, but thanks for the suggestion.” Jay snickered from where he was now heaving one parcel towards Heeseung.
Soobin knocked his shoulder into yours, “Honestly, Y/N. Your office was lacking big time. We gave it some character!”
“Yeah,” Yeonjun added with a grin, “and when we’re not napping in here, you can totally use it too.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Gee, thanks. I’ll make sure to reserve my own office for whenever you’re not busy.”
Despite all the teasing, you felt your chest warm with appreciation. The fact that they went out of their way to make sure you’d be comfortable, going as far as convincing both the coach and your dad—meant a lot.
“Seriously though,” you said, looking between them, “thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Heeseung waved you off, but his smile was genuine. “Hey, anything for the team’s PR girl. You are able to ruin everyone's reputation in here.”
“And we can’t let you suffer in this sad office,” Soobin added with a smirk.
Jay stretched dramatically, shooting you a wink. “Now you can suffer in comfort.”
Heeseung wiped the sweat from his brow after the grueling training session, his legs heavy and tired from the extra drills. It was as if your dad had dialed up the intensity after seeing the boys have a bit of fun with you earlier. Heeseung chuckled at the memory of EJ’s goofy dance moves, knowing full well that your father had caught wind of their little behind-the-scenes moment. "No fun allowed," he thought wryly, shaking his head.
Heeseung wasn’t the Coach’s biggest fan. He was too strict, especially when they lost, and lately, his overprotectiveness toward you had only made things tenser. Heeseung got it, though. It couldn’t be easy to see his daughter in a wheelchair after being an athlete herself, but still, the coach’s comments were always a little too pointed, a little too controlling.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Heeseung found himself walking toward your office, knowing that even though the rest of the rink was quiet and nearly empty, you’d probably still be there, editing videos or catching up on schoolwork. It had become a familiar routine over the last few weeks—after most of the team had left, Heeseung would often wander up to find you, usually hunched over your laptop, absorbed in your work.
Sure enough, when he knocked lightly and poked his head in, there you were. Your wheelchair was parked near the desk, and you had your laptop open with a few TikTok videos you’d been editing playing on repeat.
"Hey," Heeseung greeted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Still working?”
You glanced up from your screen, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, just editing some stuff for the ‘Get to Know the Player’ series. I can’t believe I got EJ to do that dance.”
Heeseung laughed at the memory, throwing himself onto the sofa that had recently appeared in your office.
"I am just trying to make sure I don’t accidentally make EJ look too good at dancing.”, you shrugged and replayed the video.
Heeseung snorted, pulling up a show he’d been watching lately. “You couldn’t make him look good at dancing even if you tried. He’s a lost cause.”.
You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you saved your work. “I think it’s charming. And it’s getting views, so…”
“Of course it is,” Heeseung said, grinning. “The team’s already loving the content. They’ll do anything for their fifteen seconds of fame.”
He stretched out on your sofa, letting out a loud, exaggerated groan as he sunk into the cushions. You smiled but kept your focus on the screen. Heeseung clicked on the latest episode of the new season of The Walking dead he’d been binge-watching, fully knowing he should probably be writing his essay on whatever topic his professor had picked out instead. But the idea of opening his laptop right now made him feel even more exhausted.
As the show played, Heeseung made occasional comments under his breath, reacting to the twists and turns of the plot. You were typing away, seemingly ignoring him, until he let out a surprised “No way he died!”
You glanced up, narrowing your eyes. “Heeseung, don’t spoil anything! I’m not caught up yet.”
He looked at you with mock innocence. “I didn’t spoil anything! I just… reacted.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” you muttered, trying to focus on your work. But Heeseung did not want to keep quiet. He quite enjoyed your attention on him so he occasionally gasped and muttered exclamations, making you groan in exasperation. “Heeseung, seriously! Shut up! If you spoil anything for me, I’m never letting you nap in here before training.”
Heeseung laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! No spoilers, I promise.”
You fell into a comfortable silence again, with Heeseung watching his show and you finishing your work. He was trying to pay attention, but his eyes kept gazing over and he was about to fall asleep. It wouldn't be the first time that he actually took advantage of the sofa to take a nap. Last week he had a free period before his training session and decided to go to the rink to train on his own a bit. Instead of training you lured him into your office with the offer of cupcakes you baked and after talking for a bit you continued working on an essay and he took the chance to take a quick nap.
“You good?” you asked, saving your work and closing your laptop.
Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah… I mean, I guess. I’m just tired. Like, really tired.”
You looked at him sympathetically. “Long day?”
“Yeah, and school’s just... killing me right now. I’ve got so much work to do, and I’m so behind. But I can’t seem to get motivated to do anything. I was supposed to write an essay tonight, but I’ve been lying here watching Netflix instead.”
You nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes it feels like there’s just too much going on all at once.”
Heeseung rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the weight of everything he hadn’t done start to press down on him again. “It’s just... I don’t know. Between hockey and school, and trying to keep up with everything else, it’s exhausting. And I know I should be doing more, but sometimes I just want to do nothing.”
You tilted your head, giving him a soft smile. “You’ve been doing a lot, though. You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Heeseung. It’s okay to take a break.”
He gave you a grateful smile but didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, after a pause, he spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “I just… don’t want to let anyone down, you know? The team, my professors, the coach, everyone expects me to be perfect.”
“Well, for what it’s worth,” you said gently maneuvering your wheelchair to the sofa, “I don't think you’re letting anyone down. You’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough.”
Heeseung let out a long breath, nodding slightly as he made space for you to sit down next to him. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“It's been a rough day for you too? If you are sitting in the wheelchair?” Heeseung asked, steering the conversation away from himself for a moment.
You hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “I’m just tired. Physio’s been rough lately, and I guess it’s catching up to me. My dad’s been extra… you know, ‘Dad’ about it all.”
Heeseung hummed, understanding what you meant. The coach could be intense. You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were quiet for a moment before speaking again, your tone a little more subdued. “It’s been rough. I try not to complain too much, but… today’s just one of those days.”
He nodded, feeling a small pang in his chest. He wanted to ask more, to understand what exactly you were going through, but he didn’t want to pry too much. Instead, he carefully asked a question that had been lingering in his mind since Soobin had mentioned it in passing.
“I know this might be a bit personal, but... Soobin told me you used to play before the accident.” he said carefully, gauging your reaction. “I mean, with your family, it makes sense, but… I don’t know. It must’ve been hard, having to stop.”
Your eyes flicked toward him, and for a moment, Heeseung wondered if he’d crossed a line. But then, to his surprise, you nodded.
“Yeah, it was,” you said quietly, your voice a little strained. “I did. I was on the ice all the time. It was my life, honestly. And then… well, then the accident happened.”
You paused, seeming to gather your thoughts. Heeseung stayed silent, letting you continue at your own pace.
“It was a car accident. We were hit by a drunk driver,” you said, your voice tightening slightly, as you pull your uninjured leg towards your chest. “I-most of my left leg was jammed up and stuck in the wreck. And that was it. No more ice hockey. No more running around. Everything changed after that.”
“I’m so sorry,” Heeseung said softly, not really knowing what else to say. His heart clenched at your words. He could only imagine how hard it must’ve been for you, growing up in a family so deeply rooted in hockey, only to have that taken away after the accident. He’d seen firsthand how strict and overprotective your dad could be.
You gave him a small, sad smile. “It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with it. Doesn’t mean it’s easy, though. I mean I was pretty lucky.”
Heeseung nodded, wanting to say something that would make it better, but knowing there were no magic words that could fix something like this.
You shrugged: "It’s tough sometimes, but I’m finding new things to love. Like, I never thought I’d enjoy editing TikToks and running the team’s social media, but it’s been fun.”
Heeseung smiled back at you, “Well, for what it’s worth, we’re all really glad you’re here,” he said sincerely. He was glad you were there but he wanted to kick himself for saying something as cringe as that.
You blinked, a small smile playing on your lips. “Thanks, Heeseung.”
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging between you, but it was a comfortable silence—one that came from understanding, from knowing they didn’t have to say everything all at once.
Finally, Heeseung broke the quiet. “Alright, I’m gonna shut up and stop spoiling.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Thanks. But seriously, don’t you dare spoil anything. I’ll never forgive you.”
Heeseung grinned, leaning back on the sofa, feeling a little lighter. “Deal."
"Coffee? Or hot chocolate?”
Heeseung looked up from his textbook, startled as you stood in front of him, holding out two cups. His brows furrowed, clearly confused. “I didn’t ask for—”
“I know,” you cut him off quickly, setting the cups down beside him. “But you looked like you needed it.”
He blinked at you, processing for a moment.
“Thanks,” Heeseung finally said, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, relieved smile. “But… why?”
You let out a breathy laugh, feeling a little more at ease now that he wasn’t brushing you off. “Last night,” you said, shifting on your feet, “I figured I owed you something after you waited for me and drove me home even tho you were dead tired.”
Heeseung raised an eyebrow, taking the coffee cup from the table, but his expression softened. “You didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t even that bothered.”
“I know,” you mumbled, “but it felt like I should do something. To, you know, thank you.”
He took a sip, then paused, a playful look flashing across his face. “Coffee’s fine.” He took a sip.” What would you have done if I’d taken the hot chocolate?” He gave you a knowing smile. “I know you don’t drink coffee.”
Your stomach dropped for a moment, and you tried not to look as flustered as you felt. How did he even know that? “Wait—how did you...?”
Heeseung’s smile widened, leaning back in his chair like he’d just won something. “You didn’t think I’d notice? You tend to bring tea or hot chocolate to the office. No matter how late.”
Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked away, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You hadn’t realized he’d paid that much attention. “I—well, I would’ve managed,” you replied, shrugging a little too nonchalantly. “But I’m glad you took the coffee because, yeah, I don’t like it.”
Heeseung chuckled, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than usual. “What, you were really going to choke it down just to make me feel better?”
You gave him a half-hearted glare. “I was trying to be nice, okay?”
His laughter softened, his expression turning more gentle. “Sure, the brave Y/N drinking coffee just for me.”
“Hey!”, you hit him softly and tried to ignore how warm your cheeks felt. You were praying that your foundation did its job properly today.
Heeseung grinned, and the atmosphere between you shifted slightly, the playful teasing replaced with something more sincere. “Well, thanks for the coffee,” he said, his voice softer now.
You glanced at Heeseung’s open book, his pages cluttered with scribbled notes and highlighted passages. “You’ve been here a while, huh?” you asked, leaning forward to peek at his notes, feeling guilty for distracting him.
Heeseung sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, midterms are killing me. I’ve been staring at this stuff for hours, but I swear, none of it’s sticking.”
You tilted your head, sympathizing. “I feel that. Econ made me want to throw my laptop out of my window yesterday and i had to resign to finish a episode of TWD. Are you done with the season?”
At that, Heeseung’s face brightened. “Oh, I finished the last episode last night. I swear i didn’t think—”
“If you spoil it, I will fight you,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him.
Heeseung burst into laughter, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, no spoilers! But seriously, you need to catch up soon. I want to know your reaction.”
You bit your lip, debating for a moment before offering, “Well... do you want to rewatch the last like 5 episodes? You could see my reactions in real time then?"
His eyes lit up at your suggestion, and you felt a flutter of excitement in your chest. “I’d love that! How about we do it tonight? I could whip up some snacks, and we can binge-watch the last few episodes.”
You hesitated, suddenly aware of how casual he was making it sound. “Uh, yeah, but only if we actually study before we watch. I have a few things I want to get done today.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed, nodding seriously, though a smile tugged at his lips.
The idea of going over to his place made your heart race a little faster. “Alright. Then I’ll see you later,” you said, glancing over at him once more, trying to ignore the warmth rising in your cheeks.
What was he thinking? Heeseung couldn’t believe himself. He had invited you over and casually mentioned he could whip up some snacks?
After his last class of the day, he raced into his dorm, the realization hitting him like two hours too late. Jake and Jay were sprawled across the dinner table with their books and laptops, completely oblivious to the chaos about to unfold.
Heeseung nearly slammed the entrance door against the wall as he burst in. “Guys, I might have messed up!”
Jake blinked a few times, confusion etched across his face. “What happened?”
“I invited Y/N over to watch The Walking Dead,” he said, sliding off his coat. “And I told her I’d whip up some snacks. But our dorm is a disaster, and my room is even worse! She can’t come over!” Panic surged through him.
Jay stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the drama. “So you want us to speed clean so you can impress the coach’s daughter?”
“Yes!” Heeseung exclaimed, already kneeling down to pick up the shoes littering the entrance. “Please, help a guy out. I can’t let her see this place!”
“Sure,” Jake said with a chuckle, standing up and grabbing the takeout boxes scattered around him. “Our dorm needs a cleaning session anyway. And honestly, I’m so done with thermodynamics right now. If I see another heat transfer mode, I might bang my head into a wall hard enough to skip out the next semester. I am suffering.”
Jay joined in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll take the living room and vacuum. Hyung, just focus on your room. I think we have chips in the pantry, so just use that as a snack.”
“Jay, you’re a genius. Thank you,” Heeseung said, practically sprinting to his room.
Once inside, he was greeted by the mess that was his room: clothes sprawled across the floor, bed, and desk, a collection of empty water bottles. On top of that, his hockey gear is spread all haphazardly around the room - gloves, sticks, and bags. He immediately began tackling the mess, grabbing clothes, checking which ones were clean which needed to be folded and put away.
He picked up a discarded hockey glove and tossed it into a corner before realizing he’d have to deal with the smell somehow.
By the time he emerged from his room, he felt a sense of accomplishment. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than what it had been. He glanced over at Jay, who was in the living room, vacuuming with an exaggerated flourish.
Just that second the shrill noise of their doorbell pierced through the air.
You stood in front of Heeseung’s dorm building, your gaze drifting up toward the tall, sleek structure. The place looked expensive—not surprising, given what you knew about his background. Heeseung’s parents were wealthy, and while you came from a comfortable home as well, this dorm definitely seemed a cut above.
As you approached the entrance, you felt a slight flutter of nerves you hadn’t expected. Pressing the elevator button for the twelfth floor, you shifted your weight onto your good leg, adjusting your crutches slightly. You didn’t really need your crutches anymore. Enough time has passed since your surgery for you to be able to walk only on your cast but you decided that going about your day and actually walking quite a bit was too much of a risk and took them with you anyway.
The ride up seemed to stretch on, giving you too much time to think. Over the past few weeks, you had grown used to Heeseung hanging out in your office, almost like it was his second home. Some days, he was already there when you finished your last class, quietly studying or taking notes. His presence had become a strange comfort, one that didn’t bother you. If anything, it helped you stay focused. But this—being invited into his space—felt like a new step, one that made your heart race a little.
When you reached his door, you hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath. You could hear muffled voices and the sound of something being moved around inside. Whatever nervousness you felt, you quickly pushed it aside before ringing the doorbell.
The door swung open almost immediately, and there stood Heeseung, his warm, easy smile greeting you. Behind him, you could see Jake lounging in the kitchen and Jay standing nearby, holding a vacuum cleaner.
“Hi, Y/N!” Heeseung said, stepping aside to let you in, the others offering casual waves.
“Hey,” you replied, carefully stepping inside with your crutches. The moment you entered, your eyes quickly took in the space—it was neat. Really neat. Surprisingly neat for a guy’s dorm.
Heeseung must have noticed the slight lift of your eyebrows because he scratched the back of his neck, chuckling softly. “Yeah, uh… we did a little tidying up.”
“A little?” you echoed, amused as you glanced around again. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think your dorm would be this... organized.”
Before Heeseung could respond, Jake snorted from across the room, biting into a chip. “Yeah, sure. We always live this clean,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, earning a pointed side-eye from Heeseung.
You laughed, the sound easing the last bit of tension in the room. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like a dig. It’s just—well, I’ve seen my brother’s room?”
“You’re giving us too much credit,” Jay chimed in, leaning the vacuum against the wall.
Once you were in his room, you sat on the edge of the bed, noticing how tidy even his space was. The bed was made, his hockey gear wasn’t strewn everywhere like Sobbing usually is, and the usual hockey player smell was faint, replaced with something cleaner. You caught a subtle hint of Heeseung’s familiar cologne, woody but fresh.
You moved to sit on the bed but hesitated, leaning on your good leg. “Uh, mind if I sit? I don’t want to mess up your bed with my outside clothes.”
Heeseung waved it off with a casual shrug. “I don’t care about that. But if you’re worried about it, I can give you a pair of my joggers?”
You blinked, not really expecting that offer. “Oh... uh, are you sure?”
“Yeah, no big deal,” he said, already moving to his closet. He pulled out a pair of gray joggers and handed them to you with a smile. “Here, these should be comfy.”
You threw the joggers over your shoulder, feeling a bit strange but also kind of grateful. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
After changing in the bathroom, you returned, feeling a little more at ease wearing his clothes, knowing you wouldn't mess his bed up with your outside clothing. You did care about that. The joggers hung low on your hips, the waistband slightly too big, but they were warm and comfortable.
When you sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, Heeseung flopped down next to you, pulling out his iPad. “Alright, let’s get some studying done before we watch anything, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
You laughed, pulling out your own notes, though your focus was already wandering. The smell of his freshly laundered sheets, mixed with his subtle cologne and aftershave, was distracting you almost as much as his presence next to you.
For the next hour, you both settled into study mode. Heeseung was focused on his music theory notes, occasionally mumbling something about chord progressions or sound mixing, while you tried—really tried—to get through corporate governance. But after what felt like an eternity, your brain was officially fried.
With a frustrated sigh, you tossed your notebook aside. “This is impossible. I need help with this. Do you think Jay’s busy?”
Heeseung raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “He’s probably still studying in the living room.”
You huffed and slid off the bed and made your way into the living room, where Jay was still hunched over his books. Jake had his headphones on, seemingly lost in his own world of equations.
“Hey, Jay, can you help me with something? Corporate governance is killing me,” you asked, sliding into the seat beside him.
Jay looked up, grinning. “Sure thing. What part are you stuck on?”
What was supposed to be a quick five-minute explanation stretched into ten, then fifteen. You had the gift to ask the right question to make everyone insecure in their explanations and answers and now Jay and you were confused. Great.
Eventually, you noticed Heeseung joining you. “You guys still going at it?” he asked, pulling up a chair next to you.
“We’re just about done,” Jay said, pushing his notes aside.
Heeseung laughed. He settled in, flipping through his book, and soon enough, all four of you were studying together at the dinner table. It was surprisingly productive.
After a while, though, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms. “Okay, I’m officially done. My brain can’t take any more.”
Heeseung set his book aside, looking just as exhausted. “Same here. Ready for some TWD?”
You nodded eagerly, feeling that familiar excitement bubble up again. As much as you tried to play it cool, you’d been looking forward to this part all day. Annoying Lia during your shared class and Beomguy during your break about how excited you were.
Back in his room, you climbed onto the bed again, this time letting yourself sink fully into the pillows and pulling the blanket over yourself. As you did, you caught that same scent of Heeseung’s cologne again.
The coolness of the evening was creeping in, and without thinking, you shifted closer to Heeseung, stealing a little more of the blanket. He glanced at you with a small smile but didn’t say anything, his focus returning to the screen.
Heeseung shifted slightly on the bed, stretching his legs as the second episode ended. He turned his head to ask you if you wanted to start another one, but when he glanced over, his breath hitched.
You were fast asleep.
For a moment, Heeseung just stared, not quite sure what to do. You had curled up against the pillows, still wrapped in his blanket, one arm tucked under your head. His heart skipped a beat.
You looked so peaceful. He didn’t want to move or make any noise that might wake you. Heeseung swallowed nervously and tugged at his own shirt collar, feeling a little too aware of everything suddenly—his breathing, the quiet hum of the room, the weight of the blanket.
What was he supposed to do? Wake you up? Ask if you wanted to go back home?
In a flash of pure panic, he grabbed his phone and opened up a text to Soobin.
Heeseung
Hey man, Y/N fell asleep at my place. Is it cool if she stays over? I don’t want to wake her up.
Heeseung bit his lip, waiting for a reply, his eyes darting between the screen and your sleeping form. You looked so calm, your breathing steady, you looked so soft. It made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t quite understand. He wasn’t used to this, if he had girls over it wasn’t for watching TV Shows, nor did they just fall asleep.
A soft buzz broke his thoughts as Soobin replied.
Soobin Hyung (New)
She’s an adult, dude.
I’ll let my parents know she’s sleeping over, though.
Just tell her she owes me for covering for her.
Heeseung exhaled a sigh of relief, slumping back against the headboard. At least he didn’t have to deal with the wrath of an angry captain tonight. He stared at your peaceful face again, and a small smile tugged at his lips. You really were out cold.
Carefully, he shifted closer, trying to tuck the blanket more securely around you without disturbing your sleep. He sent a quick thank you text to Soobin.
Heeseung tried to get comfortable, though he couldn’t ignore the fact that his heart was beating a little faster than usual. He was overthinking every tiny movement, wondering if shifting just a little might accidentally wake you up.
Glancing over at you, the rise and fall of your chest was slow and steady, and he felt that strange, unfamiliar warmth in his chest again. He had no idea what to do with it. You were just there, peacefully sleeping, wrapped in his blanket, wearing his joggers, and somehow that made the moment feel more significant than it should. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. You were off limits.
He shifted a little closer to the edge of the bed, carefully trying to give you more space without disturbing you. His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it, worried that it might be your brother again, but when he checked, it was just a message from Jake into their groupchat.
Puckin' Legends and Sunghoon
Jakey Jakey
So?
How’s the TV date going hyung
Jeongsongie
You owe us for cleaning the dorm in record speed.
I dont think i ever vacuumed so quickly?
Heeseung
She fell asleep??
She is so cute tho
But thanks for the help. Dorm looks way better now.
And don’t call it a TV date?? We were literally studying before this.
He didn’t really mind the teasing—not anymore. At first, when they’d made comments about him spending a bit too much time with the coaches daughter, he’d felt awkward. But now, with you lying beside him, snuggled up under his blanket, he couldn’t bring himself to care. His phone buzzed again.
Hoon
I still cannot believe you try to bag your coaches daughter.
Jakey Jakey
I don’t think the coach can believe it either
Jeongsongie
I cant believe how gone he is for her??? Did anyone read the she is so cute????
Heeseung rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, setting his phone down without replying. He wasn’t about to engage in that conversation right now.
The soft light from the TV illuminated your face just enough for him to see. The way you’d tucked your hand under your cheek, your hair falling slightly over your face—it was… cute.
His mind wandered back to earlier, to the way you’d laughed at his teasing or the look of concentration on your face while studying. You had a way of being fully in the moment, and it made him want to stay in those moments with you for as long as possible.
Heeseung closed his eyes, knowing that sleep wasn’t going to come easy, not when his brain was buzzing with thoughts of you. He took one more look at you, tucked under his blanket, your crutches leaning against the wall in the corner of his room.
You stirred awake, the room dark except for the dim glow of the TV screen that had long since gone idle, casting soft shadows around you. It took a second to remember where you were: Heeseung’s room. His bed. The blanket wrapped around you wasn’t yours.
For a split second, panic rose—shit. You fell asleep in Heeseung’s bed? What time was it? How long had you been out? You turned slightly, glancing at Heeseung. He was still sitting next to you, back against the headboard, his eyes closed. You wondered if he had fallen asleep too. Rubbing your face in exhaustion, you felt a rush of embarrassment. This was the first time you were ever over at his place, and you had fallen asleep? Well done, Y/N. Truly.
Glancing at his dimly glowing alarm clock, you realized it was way past midnight. You tried shifting slightly, hoping to find a more comfortable position, but your leg wasn’t cooperating. Every attempt to adjust it left you either more uncomfortable or closer to waking Heeseung.
Eventually, you gave in, trying to reposition your injured leg one last time. However, the slight rustling of the blanket stirred Heeseung beside you, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, he looked confused, as if he’d forgotten where he was too.
“Y/N?” His voice was low and heavy with sleep, but still warm. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on you. “You okay?”
You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty for waking him. “Yeah, sorry. My leg just… won’t get comfortable.”
He shifted beside you, rubbing his eyes. His hair was messier now, and his face carried the remnants of sleep. “Want me to help? Or… do you need a pillow or something?”
You shook your head, adjusting the blanket around you. “No, it’s fine.”
His expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Now I know why you need half an eternity to finish the season. You knocked out pretty hard after just two episodes,” he said softly, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep.
You laughed quietly, feeling a little embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess I did. Sorry about that.”
“No, don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice warm. “I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed really comfortable.”
Comfortable. You were. Too comfortable, honestly. You glanced down at the blanket wrapped tightly around you, feeling a strange warmth in your chest.
“Did I miss much?” you asked, your voice still quiet.
“Nah, just the end of the episode,” Heeseung replied, glancing at the TV. “You didn’t miss anything important. I was going to ask if you wanted to watch another one, but, uh…”
“But I was out cold,” you finished for him, chuckling.
“Exactly.”
There was a pause, a soft, almost peaceful silence hanging between you. You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to leave the comfort of his bed, his blanket, or this moment. You could feel his presence next to you, his arm brushing yours slightly as you both sat there.
“So…” you began, hesitating for a moment. “I should probably get going.”
Heeseung didn’t say anything right away. He shifted slightly, and you thought you caught a flicker of something in his expression, but it was gone too quickly to tell.
“You don’t have to,” he said, his voice careful. “I mean, if you’re comfortable here, it’s late… Also, Soobin’s got you covered. He said your parents will survive you crashing here for the night.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “You texted Soobin?”
Heeseung’s smile was sheepish. “I didn’t want your parents to freak out when you didn’t show up. So yeah, I let him know. He said you’re an adult but added that he’d let them know you’re safe.”
You sighed, a mix of gratitude and amusement rising in your chest. “Thanks, Heeseung. Really.”
He shrugged, his easy smile still in place. “Anytime. I just figured I should let someone know.”
You began to move out of your blanket burrito,”I’ll migrate to the sofa then! I don’t want to hog your bed. You have training tomorrow and you should get some proper sleep before then!”
His gaze shifted to you, a little more serious now. “Hell no. If you’re gonna stay, you are going to sleep here. If you feel uncomfortable I can go to the sofa.”
You blinked at him, surprised by his casual offer. “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed,” you protested, even as part of you was tempted.
Heeseung tilted his head, his eyes soft and teasing. “Then I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Just scoot over, and I’ll lie down too. We can both be comfortable.”
A beat of silence passed as you considered it, but then you nodded, scooting over to give him room. Your heart pounded just a little harder as you adjusted yourself, settling more comfortably against the pillows.
Heeseung shifted too, lying down on his side, facing you. The bed suddenly felt smaller than it had moments ago, the space between you somehow feeling both large and almost nonexistent.
“Better?” he asked, his voice soft as he looked at you.
You nodded. “Yeah. Much better.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything. You found yourself more aware of everything—the blanket, the smell of Heeseung’s cologne lingering in the air, and the soft, even rhythm of his breathing.
“Good,” Heeseung murmured, his eyes closing again.“Just… wake me up if you need anything, okay?”
You smiled softly, watching as his breathing slowed, his expression relaxed as sleep pulled him back under. It was strange, this feeling of being so comfortable, of having someone care enough to make sure you were okay. You could not believe what was happening right now but you were also too tired to think about it right now. So you just closed your eyes again, the weight of the day and the warmth of the moment making it easier to drift off. And as sleep began to claim you once more, you felt a quiet contentment settle in your chest.
The sun was barely beginning to rise as Heeseung wiped the sweat off his brow, the air in the rink still heavy with the lingering chill of the early morning. Their training session had just wrapped up, and the team was scattered around the locker room, chatting and peeling off their gear. Heeseung sat on a bench, untying his skates when he felt someone approach.
“Soobin.” Heeseung looked up, surprised to see your older brother standing in front of him with a serious expression.
“We need to talk,” Soobin said, his tone calm but firm. Heeseung immediately sensed that something was up and he straightened up, suddenly more alert. Soobin didn’t usually pull him aside like this, and the shift in his demeanor was hard to miss.
Heeseung’s heart rate quickened, but he kept his face neutral, unsure of where this conversation was going. He stood, following Soobin outside to a quieter part of the rink, away from the rest of the team.
Once they were alone, Soobin crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly as he met Heeseung’s gaze. “You're gonna tell me what’s going on between you and Y/N?” Soobin asked, voice stern but not hostile.
The question hit Heeseung like a puck to the chest (pun intended), and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. Scratch that he knew what he wanted to say but saying it out loud made it too real.
He thought about the evenings spent in your office, long after practice had ended, when the rink was quiet, and it was just the two of you. Most nights, it started with something simple—you finishing up work while he lingered, not really wanting to go back to the dorm. You would end up on the sofa in your office, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
He could picture how you would sit, your back nestled into the corner of the sofa, one knee pulled up to your chest while the other, still recovering, rested comfortably across his lap. You were so casual about it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to drape your leg over him like that. And somehow, it was. You would chat for hours sometimes, and he found himself looking forward to those nights more than he ever admitted. Seeing the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something, or the way your lips quirked into a small smile when you said something you thought was clever. There was a comfort between the two of you that made everything else fade into the background.
On days where your physiotherapist, whom you claim to love with all of your heart, went a bit harder on you leaving you exhausted and in pain he would be trying his best to cheer you up a bit. You never complained but he could tell. Your leg would stiffen up, and you would move with a slight limp, your jaw tight as you tried to brush it off like it was nothing.
He remembered the first time he noticed it—how you had tried to hide the discomfort, laughing off his concern with some joke about how you have “had worse.” Without thinking, he had reached out and placed his hand on your leg, gently massaging the tense muscles. You hadn’t said anything at first, but you didn’t pull away either. Instead, you had leaned back into the cushions, closing your eyes for a brief moment, as if allowing yourself to relax in his presence.
That morning, when he got up for training, you had still been there, your hair spilling over the pillow in soft waves. He had whispered for you to stay, to sleep in and leave whenever you wanted, and a small part of him had hoped that when he returned, you’d still be in his bed.
Soobin waited, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Heeseung, don’t make me ask twice.”
But what was he supposed to say to Soobin? You were his sister. He couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing, especially not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.
“Nothing’s going on,” Heeseung replied, though even as he said it, he knew it sounded weak. “I mean, we’re friends.”
Soobin’s jaw clenched, clearly unsatisfied. "Friends, huh? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like there’s more to it than just being friends. And don’t give me that ‘nothing’s going on’ line. I’m not stupid, Heeseung."
Heeseung swallowed. Soobin wasn’t the kind of guy to be brushed off easily. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his damp hair. “I…” He started, his voice a little shaky, but he forced himself to meet Soobin’s eyes. “I think I like her. A lot, actually.”
Soobin’s eyes narrowed, and Heeseung felt his heart rate spiking. “You think? Or you know?”
“I know,” Heeseung admitted, his voice more certain now. “I like her more than just a friend, Soobin. I’ve liked her for a while. It’s not just…” He paused, searching for the right words, trying to explain how he felt about you. “It’s not just some fling or whatever. It’s… more. Or at least for me it is.”
There. He’d said it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before—how his feelings for you had slowly shifted, deepening with each shared moment, every lingering glance, every time he found himself thinking about you when he wasn’t supposed to. But saying it out loud and not just gushing to his friends about you made it real in a way that he wasn’t fully prepared for.
Soobin stayed silent for a long moment, his gaze hard but thoughtful. Heeseung’s stomach twisted. But when Soobin spoke again, his voice was calmer, though still edged with that protective tone.
“Look, I get it,” Soobin said slowly, his gaze locked on Heeseung’s. “Y/N… she’s been through a lot. You know that. The last thing she needs is someone messing with her heart. So if you’re not serious about her, if you’re just playing around or you’re not sure what you want, you need to back off. Because if you hurt her, Heeseung… I swear—”
“I’m not going to hurt her,” Heeseung interrupted, his voice firm, surprising even himself with the certainty of his own words. “I would never do that, Soobin.”, his chest tightening at the thought of hurting you. “I wouldn’t. I won’t. I just… I don’t want to complicate things for her. But I can’t help how I feel.”
Soobin stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing the truth of his words. Finally, he let out a small sigh, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders.
“I believe you,” he said, though there was still a note of caution in his tone. “But I’m warning you—if you break her heart, you’ll answer to me.”
Heeseung nodded, knowing that Soobin meant every word. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed, if he were in Soobin’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing.
As Soobin walked back toward the locker room, Heeseung let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
With a sigh, Heeseung headed back inside, his skates dangling loosely from his fingers. As he stepped into the locker room, his mind wandered back to his dorm. He wondered if you were still there, still curled up in his bed like you had been when he left. You were probably already gone, but a small part of him hoped you were still there.
“A little bird told me you didn’t return home last night,” Beomgyu teased as he plopped down into the empty seat next to you in the library, dropping his hockey gear with a soft thud. He had no trouble finding you among the maze of bookshelves and antique paintings - you were in your usual spot, struggling through an international law essay.
You looked up and sighed, already bracing yourself for his relentless teasing.
“I didn’t,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “Did that little bird also tell you I fell asleep after studying and watching, like, one and a half episodes of The Walking Dead? Or did he conveniently forget to mention that part?” You knew exactly who the “little bird” was—your brother.
“He did mention that, actually,” Beomgyu smirked, shaking his damp hair free from his hat. “But I have to say, I’m a little disappointed.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice dramatically. “You had the perfect opportunity to get something going with,” he paused for effect, “a hot guy that Yeonjun hyung, Soobin hyung, and I fully approve of—and you did nothing? And don’t give me the ‘I’m not interested in Heeseung’ excuse. I know all about your little evening sessions in your office.”
Your face heated up at the mention of Heeseung, but you quickly dismissed it. “We’re just friends, Gyu. Friends,” you emphasized. “When he comes to my office, we’re actually studying. It’s peaceful there, no one interrupts us.” You crossed your arms, trying to hide the sudden, unwelcome flutter in your chest.
“Sure, sure,” Beomgyu grinned, clearly not buying it. “But you slept over. That’s new.”
You sighed, glancing back at your laptop. “I slept over because I fell asleep. He had to get up early for practice, so he let me sleep in. When I woke up, he was already gone. It was no big deal.” You said it like you were reminding yourself more than Beomgyu—because it wasn’t a big deal, right? You were just comfortable around Heeseung. That’s all.
“Uh-huh. Sure, it wasn’t a big deal,” Beomgyu leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. “Jake and Jay weren’t exactly quiet about it during practice this morning. And now the entire team, including your dad, knows about your ‘sleepover.’ Your dad wasn’t thrilled, by the way. Might want to prepare for an awkward conversation later.”
You groaned, letting your head fall onto the old wooden desk with a soft thud. “Of course he’d freak out. How is he so worried about me being lonely but still loses his shit whenever I’m near a guy?” You turned your head to the side, pouting.
Beomgyu patted your head sympathetically. “Your dad’s a scary guy. I can’t help you there. But seriously, are you sure you’re not into Heeseung?”
You straightened up, an annoyed huff escaping your lips. “I’m not interested in Heeseung like that,” you insisted, though your mind betrayed you with memories of how you’d felt waking up in his bed this morning. The way the sheets still held his warmth, how his cologne lingered faintly in the air... But no. It wasn’t like that. You had just fallen asleep while watching TV, that’s all. It wasn’t a date. Just two friends watching a show, nothing more.
Beomgyu wasn’t buying it. “I’m just saying, you spend a lot of time with him. Almost every other night, actually. And don’t even get me started on the way he naps in your office all the time. That sofa is supposed to be my personal napping spot.”
“I mean, first come, first serve,” you shot back, forcing a lighthearted tone. “Yeonjun’s slept on that couch plenty of times too.”
“Yeah, but I don’t see you staying over at Yeonjun’s place,” Beomgyu countered with a sly grin. “Face it, you’re into Heeseung.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, but inside, his words echoed. You and Heeseung had gotten close, yes. Maybe closer than you’d expected. But that didn’t mean anything, right? You were just... comfortable around him. There was nothing more to it.
“Gyu, I’m really not interested in dating right now,” you said, turning back to your laptop in an attempt to end the conversation. “I just want to get this essay done. Jay and Lia asked me to proofread theirs, and I won’t have time if I don’t finish today.”
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair dramatically. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. But I’m keeping an eye on you two.”
“Oh no, I’m so scared,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Now, can I please focus on this essay?”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over. I’m just getting started.”
You managed to ignore Beomgyu’s incessant teasing for a while, but the fluttering thoughts about Heeseung kept creeping back in, much to your annoyance. It was like a small nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering things you didn’t want to hear. Things like how nice it was that he let you stay in his bed, how considerate it was of him to slip out quietly in the morning so you could sleep in, and how warm his side of the bed had felt when you rolled over into it. Stop it, you mentally scolded yourself.
It didn’t mean anything.
Right?
Nope. No. Stop. You shook your head slightly, forcing yourself to focus. You had way too much going on to be distracted by feelings—or whatever this was. The coming weeks were packed with deadlines, presentations, and a social media campaign for the team that was eating up all your free time. Not to mention the upcoming games, which meant more PR work for you. You didn’t have time to analyze whatever was happening between you and Heeseung. Not that there was anything to analyze.
The final whistle echoed through the arena, and you were still trying to process what had just happened. Heeseung had scored the winning goal - on his birthday, no less. The crowd roared, players rushed onto the ice, and you could barely keep your camera steady as you captured the celebrations for the team’s social media. But your thoughts were still stuck on the way Heeseung had glanced up into the stands after scoring. Pointing at you. Dedicating the goal to technically the teams fans. He’d joked with you before the game that it would be perfect PR if the “birthday boy” scored the winning goal.
You stood in front of the changing rooms, waiting for the boys to finish up after the game. The arena was still buzzing from the victory—Heeseung’s last-second, game-winning goal had the whole place on fire. You could hear the muffled celebrations from behind the door, the players’ laughter and shouts of excitement as they reveled in their win.
You leaned against the wall, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone as you waited for them to emerge. But before you could even think about your next move, the door to the changing room swung open, and Beomgyu poked his head out.
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his grin as mischievous as ever. “Come on, get in here!”
Before you could protest, he gently pushed you into the locker room. The smell of sweat hit you all at once, and the noise of the players’ post-game celebrations was deafening. The boys were in various stages of undress—some half-naked, some wrapped in towels, others already pulling on their post-game clothes. You hesitated at the entrance, suddenly feeling a little out of place.
“Uh, I’m not really supposed to be in here -” you started, but Beomgyu waved you off.
“Nonsense! You’re part of the team too,” he said, nudging you further inside. “Besides, someone’s gotta document Heeseung’s birthday win for the fans, right?”
You smiled at his enthusiasm, but your attention was quickly diverted to Heeseung himself, who was standing by his locker, shirtless, toweling off his hair. Your eyes involuntarily scanned over him, taking in the toned muscles of his chest, the curve of his collarbones, the way the light from the overhead lamps cast soft shadows across his skin. He was talking to one of the other players, a relaxed smile on his face, but you couldn’t help but be distracted by the way his shoulders flexed as he moved, the muscles in his back rippling as he dried off. Fuck.
You caught yourself staring and quickly averted your gaze, your face growing warm. Get a grip, you scolded yourself.
“Watch out Y/N. You are about to drool.” Beomgyu teased, suddenly reappearing at your side. His grin was knowing, and you could tell he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had lingered on Heeseung.
“Shut up,” you muttered, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.
Beomgyu just chuckled. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart was still racing. You glanced back at Heeseung, only to find that he was already looking at you. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. The noise of the locker room, the boys’ laughter, even Beomgyu’s teasing all became background noise as you held his gaze. There was something in the way he was looking at you, something warm and intense that made your breath catch.
A slow, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of Heeseung’s lips, and you felt your stomach flip again. You suddenly felt like you couldn’t stand still, like you needed to move, do something to break the intensity of the moment. But before you could, Heeseung looked away, returning to his conversation with a teammate, breaking eye contact.
After a while, the players finished up and started getting dressed, and you slipped out of the changing room, glad to have a moment to collect yourself. The victory high carried on as the team headed to a nearby bar to celebrate. You tagged along—PR duties and all. Your original plan was to go back to your and Soobins Hotel room to study a bit but Yeonjun threatened to spoil the end of Prison Break if you wouldn’t tag along. That and the fact that Heeseung had his arms around your shoulder in such an aggravating casual way as soon as he came out of the locker and was pouting when you told him about your study plans was pretty convincing.
Heeseung kept finding excuses to be near you even after you left the rink. Every time you looked up, he was there—handing you a drink, making a joke, his arm bushing yours as he leaned in to talk.
You found yourself glancing at him more often, watching the way his lips curved when he laughed, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. But every time you tried to be subtle about it, you’d catch him already looking at you, making your pulse quicken and your cheeks rosy red. He would lower his head slightly, his eyes being hidden behind his hair and smirking at you until you couldn't take it any longer and the intense broke eye contact, blushing like a little school girl.
You were sitting at a booth with some of the players when Beomgyu sidled up to you, a mischievous grin already in place.
“So… birthday boy scores the winning goal and dedicates it to you? That’s a bit more than a coincidence, don’t you think?” His eyes twinkled with amusement.
You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off. “It was just a joke, Beomgyu. Heeseung was dedicating it to the fans, not me.” You were praying that the noise around you was loud enough for Soobin, Yeonjun and Jay to not hear what the two of you were talking about.
Beomgyu leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just a joke.”
Your face flushed, warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re in denial,” he shot back, leaning back in his seat and giving you a smug look. “I’m just saying - maybe it’s time to stop pretending.”
You tried to brush it off, but his words lingered. You have been telling yourself that you were imagining things and that you were a bit delusional when thinking about Heeseung - not talking, hell your friends cannot know about your little crush - but maybe just maybe did Beomgyu have a point.
Heeseung slid in next to you, and immediately, you felt the heat of his body radiating toward you. He was so close, not closer than usual, but you could smell the faint hint of his cologne—something warm and woodsy that made your head swim a little. You liked it a little too much, and you had to fight the urge to lean in closer, to let yourself get lost in the warmth of his presence. Like you have done on his bed plenty of times in the last weeks during your strictly friendly studying-and-binge-watching-not-dates-dates that sometimes turn into sleepovers. (Yes, you have your own toothbrush at his place and a designated set of PJs. And yes, in hindsight you are a lost causes and Beomgyu has been right about everything but you would never tell him that.)
As you sipped your drink, trying to keep your thoughts in check, Soobin’s gaze was on you, watchful and a little too knowing. You could feel his eyes darting between you and Heeseung. It made you even more self-conscious, and you prayed Heeseung didn’t notice. When Heeseung put one of his hands on your thigh while talking, Soobin looked like he was ready to punch his captain in the face. Yeonjun shot Soobin a look and discreetly elbowed him in the ribs.
“Relax, man,” he muttered under his breath, though you heard it clearly.
You silently thanked Yeonjun for the intervention, but you still couldn’t shake the nervous energy building up inside you. You kept your focus on the conversation, laughing along with the others, but the whole time, all you could think about was the way Heeseung’s leg was pressed against yours under the table, the steady heat of his body next to you, his hand on your thigh and his thumb that started caressing it slightly. The skin under his hand was tingling.
The way back to your hotel felt significantly longer than the way there. You were busy giggling together with Jake about a dumb joke Jay made while walking rather slowly towards your hotel. Having had one or two drinks while relying on crutches may have not been the best idea.
“I don’t want to go to sleep yet,” you pouted as you squeezed into the elevator with the others, leaning your head against Jay’s shoulder. Heeseung and Jake swayed as they stepped into the cramped space, followed by a few of the other players and their girlfriends.
“I swear I am out as soon as my head hits the pillow”, Jay yawned and patted your head causing you to giggle.
You giggled. “Ohhh,” you teased, fake pouting, “you didn’t get your nap today! Poor Jay must be exhausted.”
“Ha, ha,” Jay replied dryly, grabbing Jake’s arm as the latter swayed dangerously. “Might I remind you that I played a phenomenal game today? That’s exhausting, you know.”
“Sure, Park,” you said with mock seriousness, lips pursed as you nodded.
At your floor, you bid the boys a quick goodnight and shuffled toward your room. Inside, Soobin was standing in the middle of the room clad in nothing but boxer shorts, toothbrush in hand, his mouth full of foam. He turned to you with a confused expression.
“Whaf are you doin’ hewe?” he mumbled around his toothbrush, his words muffled as foam threatened to dribble from the corner of his lips.
“What do you mean?” you asked, flopping onto your bed and ignoring the fact that you were still wearing your outside clothing “We’re sharing this room, remember?”
Soobin rolled his eyes and ducked into the bathroom, his voice muffled as he spit into the sink. “Yeah, but I thought you were going to give Hee his present?”
You blinked, sitting up. “Oh. I was thinking I’d do it tomorrow or maybe next week. Didn’t want to give it to him in front of everyone.”
Soobin emerged from the bathroom, drying his face with a towel, water droplets scattered across his chest and shoulders. “No. Do it today. It’s his birthday. I’m sure he’d appreciate some one-on-one time with you.”
You froze for a second. You weren’t entirely sure how Soobin was thinking about whatever was going on between you and his friend and captain, but you hadn’t expected him to ask about Heesung. Especially after the glare he had sent Heeseung’s way at the bar. “I mean, I already talked to him and said happy birthday…” you muttered, trying to brush it off.
“Y/N.” Soobin said flatly, crossing his arms, “Go downstairs and give him your present and spend some time with him. You have my official blessing. Just be careful.”
“I-You-What?”, you gawked at him,, feeling your face flush.
“Do you really think i am that stupid?”, Soobin asked with a shake of his head, grinning at you, “You look at him the same way you did look at your Taemin poster. All heart eyes. It's almost embarrassing.”
Your jaw dropped as his words sank in, your face now fully flushed. “Soobin, that’s not—”
“Y/N,” he interrupted, tossing the towel onto a chair, “just go.”
Ten minutes later you found yourself standing in front of Heeseungs hotel room door, your heart pounding in your chest as you worked up the nerve to knock. When he opened the door, already clad in his pyjama pants only, his hair messy, his eyes widened in surprise, but a slow smile spread across his face.
“Y/N,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. “What’s up?”
You held out the small box in your hands, feeling a bit shy and honestly still a bit embarrassed. You did not give Heeseung herat eyes. Those were for Taemin and Taemin only. “I, uh, got you something. For your birthday.” You were looking into his face and tried to ignore that he was standing there half naked.
Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said softly, but he was already reaching for the gift.
“Just open it,” you insisted, your heart beating faster as you watched him unwrap the small package.
“Come in first.”, he ushered you inside and closed the door behind you.
Heeseung’s fingers carefully peeled away the colorful wrapper, his eyes flickering between you and the small box in his hands. He laughed slightly when he saw the packaging and you couldn’t help but smile. He was holding a Sonny Angel dinosaur special edition box you had Soobin buy a few days earlier when he went to the mall. When Heeseung finally opened up the small plastic bag and revealed the figurine inside, his eyes widened in disbelief. It was the red dinosaur.
“No way,” he breathed, turning the figure over in his hands, a wide grin breaking across his face. “Is this the one you wanted?”
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice soft. “I’ve been trying to get it forever, but I guess it was meant for you.”
Heeseung’s eyes lit up, but he didn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at the small figure, his smile never fading. Then, his gaze lifted to meet yours. The way he looked at you had your heart racing in a concerning way.
“I offer one red dinosaur for a pink one. This one fits you better anyway. And the pink one would have a cozy home in my locker.” he said, his voice low.
You just laughed softly and nodded, “Sure scary captain. It will be honored to live in your stinky locker.” The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the warmth in his eyes.
Over the past two months, you’d come to realize that yes, Heeseung was undeniably hot and effortlessly charming, but there was something about him with messy hair and a sleepy smile that completely stole your heart.
“Thank you,” he said, breaking the silence, his voice still soft. “Really, this is... it means a lot.”
You smiled, trying to steady your heartbeat. “You’re welcome,” you breathed out.
Heeseung set the figure on the nightstand beside his bed, then turned back to you, his gaze lingering on your face.
“I still can’t believe you got me the dinosaur,” he said, his voice a little lighter now, though his eyes were still on you, unreadable but intense.
You chuckled, trying to shake off the nerves fluttering in your stomach. “I had no idea it was in there,” you admitted, glancing at the little red figure on his nightstand. “But I’m glad it was. Birthday luck, I guess.”
Heeseung nodded, his smile softening. “Yeah, I guess so.” He hesitated for a moment, then shifted on the bed, patting the space next to him. “Wanna sit? I’ll put on Prison Break.”
You blinked, feeling your heartbeat pick up again, but you nodded, moving to sit beside him on the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours as he grabbed the remote and queued up an episode.
As the show began to play, you tried to focus on the screen, but it was hard with Heeseung so close. His arm brushed against yours as he settled in, and the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air between you. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but the heat radiating from him was impossible to ignore, your skin tingling wherever you felt his presence.
Your heart thudded in your chest, and as the minutes passed, you felt yourself relax just slightly, letting the comforting hum of the TV and the warmth of Heeseung beside you lull you into a calm state. You tried to focus on the show, but your mind kept drifting back to him. The longer you sat there, the more aware you became of just how close he was, has been the whole evening. His thigh and arm was touching yours, you could feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest with every breath. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the way his features softened in the dim light, his attention half on the screen and half... somewhere else.
Just then, he turned his head, his eyes meeting yours, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. For a moment, neither of you moved.
Your pulse quickened as his gaze flickered down to your lips for just a second, then back up to your eyes again. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry, your heart pounding in your chest. Heeseung’s lips parted as if he was about to say something, but the words never came. Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. The only sound in the room was the faint murmur of the TV in the background, but even that felt distant now, drowned out by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Your breath hitched in your throat as Heeseung shifted again, just slightly, his knee brushing against yours under the blanket to reach up and tuck one of your hair strands that fell out of your braid behind your ear. His hand grazed your cheek slightly and you were sure he could not only see but also feel how warm your face grew under his intense gaze.
The moment stretched on, the air thick with tension, and for a second, you were sure he would lean down and kiss you. But instead of closing the distance, he just smiled—soft, almost teasing—and turned his attention back to the screen.
You blinked, trying to calm yourself, not sure if you were just imagining things or not. You nodded slightly, attempting to focus on the show again, but your thoughts still whirled, your heartbeat loud in your ears.
Minutes passed, and slowly, you began to feel tired. The weight of the day—watching the game, the excitement of the win, the celebration afterward—began to settle in. You could feel your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Your head involuntarily tilted toward Heeseung, resting lightly against his shoulder. You froze for a moment, worried you’d overstepped, but he didn’t move or say anything. Instead, he shifted around a bit. His arm was now fully pressed against yours, and the quiet rise and fall of his chest was soothing.
You let out a small breath, letting your body relax, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. The steady sound of the TV mixed with the warmth of Heeseung beside you, lulling you into a daze. You could hear the faint murmur of the characters on screen, but your focus was completely on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the comforting thrum of his presence beside you.
Just as your eyes fluttered shut, you felt Heeseung shift again, his arm lifting slightly, as if hesitating. Then, gently, his arm rested behind you on the bed, his hand barely brushing your shoulder. And as you drifted further into sleep, your head nestled against his chest, the last thing you felt was Heeseung’s fingers gently brushing the edge of your arm. Yeah. Beomgyu was definitely right. This might be more than just a little crush.
The night had already been one big adrenaline rush. It was the final day of the midterms week and Heeseung and his teammates had just won another game earlier in the evening, so the hockey team came into the swimming team’s Halloween party riding the high of their victory.
Heeseung wasn’t usually the frat party type, but after a win, he didn’t mind letting loose a little. He had already knocked back a couple of drinks with his teammates, and the tipsy warmth was settling in his body. He mingled with the crowd, greeting friends and teammates, celebrating their victory.
Jeongin had been bragging about his game-winning goal to anyone who would listen, while Jake and Jay were deep in conversation with some girls dressed as cats. Heeseung had been enjoying himself too, wandering around, chatting here and there.
But then he saw you.
You weren’t hard to spot—how could you be when you were dressed like that? Heeseung blinked, not sure if it was the alcohol, the lighting, or maybe a mix of both, but you looked... really good. No, scratch that, you looked hot. You were wearing a vampire costume that hugged your curves in ways he’d never quite allowed him to notice before. The dark lipstick and fake fangs were surprisingly fitting, and the way the red fabric of your dress shimmered under the lights made it hard not to stare.
The crowd shifted, and suddenly you were right in front of him, your face lighting up in drunken enthusiasm as soon as you recognized him. "Heeseung!" you called out, stumbling a little as you reached him.
He grabbed your elbow instinctively, steadying you. His hand lingered a moment longer than necessary.
“Hey, careful.”, he laughed and then realized something, “You’re not using your crutches?”
You grinned, tipsy and a little wobbly. “My physio human,” you slurred, “said I could start walking a few days ago! Isn’t that awesome?”
Heeseung blinked, feeling a little hurt that you hadn’t mentioned this to him. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t wanna jinx it!” you said, giggling like it was no big deal. “I’ve been walking at home but didn’t wanna try it in public until I was more confident. And look! I’m walking! No crutches, baby!”
Heeseung couldn’t help the way his heart clenched. He should’ve been excited for you, but a part of him was bothered. Why hadn’t you shared this with him? You spent so much time together lately, and yet, this felt like something important he should’ve known.
You were practically glowing with excitement, your face flushed from the alcohol, and the way you kept swaying made him nervous.
“Just… be careful, okay?” Heeseung said, his voice softer than he intended, the sting in his chest dissipating when he saw how genuinely happy you were.
You leaned closer your face dangerously close to his, the warmth of your breath brushing his cheek, “I promise! Look, I’m a vampire now! I’m unstoppable!” You twirled, your dress swirling around you, and Heeseung couldn’t help but smile despite the growing tension in his chest.
His gaze followed your every movement. The red dress clung to your body in ways that felt unfair, making his thoughts wander into a dangerous direction. But he quickly pushed the thought away.
“Yeah, but even vampires need to be careful,” he replied, teasingly.
Before he could say anything more, a rowdy group called for a beer pong game, and you were swept away in the chaos, your laughter trailing behind you. Heeseung watched as you joined the game, the way you threw your head back in laughter. It was impossible for him to look away, but Jay came up to him holding a bottle of Malibu, saying something about needing alcohol for a confidence boost.
After the two of them finished the bottle and won a game of beerpong against some cheerleaders, Heeseung stepped away from the crowd to get some air, letting the noise fade into the background as he sat down next to Mark Lee onto one of the many chairs in the yard. He needed a moment to breathe and gather his thoughts and was glad that Mark was apparently sleeping. He did check if he was breathing, just in case.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how good you looked, how much he wanted to kiss you. The way you layed there, eyes big, lips slightly parted and looking so so soft. It hasn’t left his thoughts all week. Every time you came close to him today, you cupped his face in your hands to speak into his ear, your proximity sending his emotions spiraling. His hand would instinctively settle on your hip or the back of your neck. One wrong move and he knew he’d lose all control, closing the small distance and kissing you.
Eventually, he felt a little more sober and not like he was about to run inside to ruin your lipstick. He returned to the main area. That’s when he caught sight of you again. You were perched on a sofa, laughing animatedly with some guy from the swimming team while sipping on a colorful drink. A weird feeling flared up in him, and as he watched you lean in closer to the guy. Heeseung’s jaw clenched as he watched the guy lean closer as well.
His feet moved before his brain could catch up, and the next thing he knew, he was walking toward you. As he approached, you spotted him, and your entire face lit up. "Hee!" you called out excitedly, as you reached for his hand and practically pulled him down onto the couch next to you. The closeness sent a spark through him, his skin tingling where your skin touched his.
Heeseung shot the guy a look that clearly said back off, and thankfully, he took the hint and left.
“Hee! I haven’t seen you in days!” you whined, your words slightly more slurred from alcohol than it was the last time he talked to you but bright with excitement. “I missed you! You’re not hanging out in the office anymore. What’s that about?” Your body was warm, and you smelled sweet, like vanilla with a hint of alcohol.
Heeseung chuckled, putting his arm on the backrest behind you. “You haven’t been there either! I thought you were avoiding me.”
Since that morning in the hotel room last week, Heeseung hadn’t seen much of you. You’d been busy working during the day and noticeably absent from the rink during your usual hours. He couldn’t shake the nagging worry that he might have overstepped, that something he did had made you uncomfortable. Instead of reaching out, he chose to give you space.
You shook your head dramatically, fake fangs peeking out as you grinned. “Noooo! I was just doing physio. You know, walking practice. But my therapist only had evening sessions!” You wiggled your foot with the cast and looked down at it. “The bathrooms are all messed up tonight,” you said, your cheeks flushed.
“Bathrooms?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in topic, reaching out to tuck a stand of hair behind your ear. Slightly caressing your face.
“I tried to pee earlier, but every bathroom was closed when I went the first time,” you explained, giggling at the absurdity of it all, leaning your head into his hand. “Then I tried again, and this very disheveled couple came out. I mean”, a hiccup interrupted you, ”they looked like they just had a wild night.”
Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like you had quite the adventure.” He was tempted to ask how many drinks you’d had and reached for your cup, his brows knitting together. “Can I have a sip of that?”
“Sure!” you said, handing it over with a smile.
As the night wore on you slowed down on the drinks, after Heeseung refused to get you another one when you asked him to but you still accepted nearly every shot offered to you. He could’ve spent the rest of the night just watching you laugh, but as the crowd grew louder and wilder, he realized you were a bit drunker than he had originally thought.
You were now fully leaning into him. The proximity made his pulse quicken. His hand rested next to your head and he was occasionally smoothing over your hair. His mind kept drifting back to how you looked tonight. How you’d pulled him onto the couch with such excitement as if he was the best thing you have seen all day. How much he still wanted to ruin your stupid lipstick. He couldn't stop staring at your lips.
“I’m so tired,” you mumbled, and before he could react, you nesteled your face onto his chest, moving your body while doing so and lifting your legs to hand over his thights.
He watched as your eyelids grew heavy. “You should stop drinking,” he said gently, gliding his hand along your back. You shuttered slightly and he was loving the effect he had on you. How reactive you were even though we was barely doing anything.
“I know,” you sighed, looking up at him. The sight made his heart race, and he fought to keep his expression neutral despite the way his pulse quickened at your gaze. Soobin and Yeonjun were sitting next to the two of you. “But it’s just so much fun!”
“I can take you home,” Heeseung offered, the protective side of him kicking in.
You shook your head. “No, I am staying at Lia and Ryujin’s. But they’re not answering their phones. My dad would freak if he saw me without my crutches. He’d lose his mind.”
Heeseung paused, running a hand through his hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Okay, then come to my dorm.”
“Your dorm?” you repeated, eyes brightening slightly. “Is that really okay? I don’t want to crash your night.”
“It’s fine. I mean, Jake and Jay probably won’t be back until morning, anyway,” he reassured you, trying to keep his tone light.
You contemplated it for a moment, and Heeseung held his breath, hoping you’d say yes. You nodded, a small smile creeping across your face. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Let’s get you out of here,” Heeseung replied, helping you up, saying bye to your brother and his friend.
The walk back to Heeseung’s dorm was slow and a bit wobbly, as you swayed gently on your feet. The chill in the night air didn’t seem to bother you. He offered you his jacket, but you denied claiming that you were so warm and you didn’t want to sweat into his jacket.
“Hey, can we take a quick pit stop?” you asked after a while, stopping mid-step and glancing around. “My foot is hurting, and I just need to sit for a second.”
“Alright,” Heeseung replied, his brows knitting together slightly with concern. He really did not want to let you sit down on the cold and slightly wet concrete floor in the middle of the campus. “You want me to give you a piggyback ride?”
“What? You want me to ride on your back?” you said, your eyes wide.
“It’s either that or a bladder infection for you,” he said, lifting his arms in mock surrender. “Your call.”
After a moment of hesitation, you grinned and climbed onto his back. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, the warmth of your body pressed against his back, Heeseung’s heart raced. The feel of your breath on his neck, the softness of your body against his—it was intoxicating.
He took steady strides, feeling your laughter vibrate against his back.
“You’re really strong!” you said, your voice muffled slightly against him. “I could get used to this!”
“Don’t get any ideas,” he replied, trying to sound serious but failing miserably.
Once inside, he gently set you down on his bed. You flopped back onto the mattress dramatically, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “This is amazing. I don’t wanna move anymore.”
Heeseung chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “Don't you want to get out of that dress? It looks tight, and you’ll be uncomfortable if you sleep in it.”
You pouted, staring up at him with those stupidly adorable doe eyes. “But it’s so comfy here.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully. “Come on, I’ll help you. We can’t have you sleeping in that.You don’t even like sleeping in leggings and I don't want you to complain all day tomorrow.”
With a little more coaxing, you reluctantly sat up, the slight sway in your movements reminding him how tipsy you still were.
“Okay, I might need help,” you admitted sheepishly.
He just laughed and took your cheek onto one hand and caressed it softly, “Alright. Just let me know what to do.”
As you turned your back to him, he helped you unzip the dress. “Just a little more,” he whispered, and he pulled the fabric down gently, letting it fall to the floor.
The sight of the scars on your back caught him off guard for a second. He knew they were there but you were keen on not letting anyone see any of your scars, wearing high waisted pants or skirts all the time. You have told him before, that you were quite insecure over them. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to make you uncomfortable. Instead, he focused on peeling the dress off of your body, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers.
“There you go,” he said, reaching for your set of pajamas in his closet. “Much better, right?”
“Mhm”, you nodded. Heeseung felt a warmth spread through him, watching as you nestled into his bed, claiming your space. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his sudden flustered state.
“Good, we need to hydrate,” he said, already moving toward the small fridge he kept in the corner. He rummaged through it and grabbed a bottle of water before heading back to the bed. “Drink up.”
You took the bottle eagerly, gulping down the water like it was the most refreshing thing in the world and flopped down onto his bed again, shielding your eyes with your arms. Heeseung chuckled at your actions and changed into his own pajamas. He coaxed you to go to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed.
As you brushed your teeth, you stumbled a little while rinsing, giggling as Heeseung steadied you.
When you finally returned to the bed, you carefully adjusted yourself into a position that wouldn’t hurt your leg and snuggled into him. He felt your warmth seep into him, and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you.
“I feel so sleepy,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled as you nestled closer.
“Then close your eyes and sleep, Y/N,” he replied quietly, resting his chin on top of your head, feeling your breathing slow down.
You put your hand onto his waist and squished your face into his chest. He was praying you didn’t notice his racing heart. He started tracing up and down your naked arm and just as he closed his eyes, he felt you sigh contentedly, your breath warm against his skin. “Heeseung?” you murmured, half-asleep already.
“Yeah?” he answered softly, glancing down at you.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” you mumbled, and within moments, he could tell you’d already drifted off into sleep.
Your eyes fluttered open, immediately assaulted by the glaring sunlight streaming into the room. You winced, instinctively trying to turn away from the light, but you couldn't move. Something was holding you down. Or, more precisely, someone. A familiar warmth, a scent you’d recognize anywhere - Heeseung.
His chest rose and fell beneath you, steady and rhythmic, the sound of his slow breathing soothing against your ear. You were completely wrapped around him, using him like a full-body pillow—your head on his chest, arms draped over his torso, and your leg casually resting on top of his. His other arm was curled around you, holding you close. His head rested lightly on yours, his messy hair brushing against your forehead.
It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up like this. In fact, it had happened more times than you cared to admit. But each time felt like a new wave of confusion crashing over you. Friends didn’t wake up like this, right? Yet here you were again, tangled up in Heeseung’s arms, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
You sighed deeply, letting the warmth of his body seep into you as you tried to ignore the slow, dull pounding in your head. The light was making it worse, far too bright for your sensitive eyes. Carefully, you slid out of his arms, lifting his arm from your waist with a soft, reluctant tug. The cool air hit your skin, and you immediately missed Heeseungs warmth.
You winced slightly as you stood, your recovering leg was hurting more than it usually did after waking up. Maybe going all out with the cast on wasn’t the brightest idea. You pulled the curtains shut, dimming the room and giving your poor head some relief.
A quick glance back at the bed confirmed that Heeseung hadn’t moved an inch. He was laying there, still peacefully asleep, his hair tousled and his lips slightly parted. You hated how good he looked, even now, first thing in the morning. Last night at the party, when he had shown up in his stupidly perfect Greek god costume, you hadn’t been able to take your eyes off him. And it wasn’t just how he looked. It was everything. The way he was always so caring, so thoughtful. Despite being surrounded by people, he kept checking in on you—making sure you were okay, that you weren’t overdoing it with your cast. In Rihanna's words: he did make you feel like you were the only girl in the world.
After a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up, you made your way back to Heeseung’s bed, your heart giving an involuntary flutter at the sight of him still sprawled out, completely at ease. He hadn’t moved since you left, still lost in sleep, his chest rising and falling gently.
As you slid back into the bed, careful not to disturb him, Heeseung stirred. Without hesitation, his arm found you again, pulling you right back against his chest. A sleepy groan rumbled through him as he snuggled closer, his nose brushing against your hair. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing were comforting, almost enough to make you forget the pounding in your head and the dull ache in your leg.
You let your eyes wander over his face, taking in the soft curve of his lips, the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, and the way his lashes fluttered slightly as he dreamed. He looked so peaceful, so relaxed, and so ridiculously hot, even now, sprawled out in his bed probably not nursing a hangover but still. It was unfair, really.
You buried your face against his chest, breathing him in—the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something distinctly Heeseung. It was comforting. Addicting, even. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it, to pretend that this was normal, that waking up with him like this could be your reality. But even as those thoughts tugged at you, the real reality remained the same: you and Heeseung were still just friends. Friends who somehow found themselves waking up tangled together, friends who shared the kind of closeness that made your heart race.
As you lay there, snuggled against Heeseung’s chest, you felt him stir beneath you. His breath hitched slightly before his body shifted, his hand gently trailing down your back as he woke up. You tried not to move, eyes still closed, but you could feel his sleepy gaze on you.
“Mornin’,” he mumbled softly, voice low and husky from sleep.
You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Morning."
He blinked lazily, his warm brown eyes still heavy with sleep, but a soft smile spread across his face as he looked down at you. His hand brushed through your hair, his fingers grazing the nape of your neck in a way that sent little shivers down your spine. You were hyper-aware of how close you were to him, of the way his chest pressed against yours.
“You hungry?” he asked, his voice still quiet, almost a whisper as if not to disturb the moment.
Your stomach growled at that very second, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
You groaned, burying your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Starving,” you admitted, muffled against his shirt.
Heeseung shifted underneath you, slowly sitting up and gently moving you off his chest. “Alright, I’ll see what we’ve got.” He stretched, running a hand through his messy hair, and threw you a playful look before getting up and heading for the kitchen.
As he left the room, you took a moment to compose yourself, sitting up in his bed with a soft sigh. The warmth of the bed still lingered on your skin, and you couldn’t help but feel a little empty now that he was no longer lying next to you. You shook your head, trying to shake off the butterflies that seemed to be fluttering in your stomach, and made your way to the kitchen.
When you got there, Heeseung was already at the counter, holding up a box of Froot Loops with a playful grin. “It’s not much, but breakfast is served.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Perfect.”
The two of you sat down at the kitchen island, munching on the cereal together in comfortable silence. Every now and then, your eyes would meet across the table, a small smile shared between you.
As you finished your bowl, the sound of shuffling footsteps caught your attention. Jake stumbled out of his room, his hair a complete mess and his eyes half-shut. He grumbled something unintelligible, making a beeline for the coffee machine.
You watched, amused, as Jake poured himself a cup, taking one long sip before practically collapsing onto the couch. He barely made a dent in his coffee before lying down and pulling a blanket over his head.
“Good morning to you, too,” you called over to him, stifling a laugh.
Jake groaned in response, clearly not in the mood to be social. "Too loud," he mumbled, pulling the blanket tighter over his head.
You and Heeseung exchanged a look, sharing a quiet chuckle. Heeseung finished his cereal and stood up, stretching. “I’m gonna wash up. You good here?”
“Yeah,” you replied, stifling a yawn of your own. "I think I’ll head back to bed for a bit. It’s too early to be awake.”
Heeseung smirked, tossing his bowl into the sink. “Good idea.” He ruffled your hair lightly before disappearing into the bathroom.
Curling up in his bed felt like sinking into a cloud. His scent lingered on the pillows and sheets, a mix of clean soap and something distinctly him, and it was so comforting that you didn’t bother trying to fight the pull of sleep.
Heeseung returned to the room, fresh and looking even better after his quick wash-up. He smiled when he saw you curled up in his bed and slid in beside you, careful not to disturb you too much.
“Wanna watch Prison Break?” he asked softly, picking up the remote.
You nodded sleepily, cuddling closer to him as he pressed play. The intro music started, but your focus drifted more toward him than the screen. The warmth of his body, the way his scent surrounded you—it was impossible to focus on anything else. One of your hands was resting on his chest. You were carefully tracing the design that was printed on his shirt, trying to distract yourself enough to not fall asleep.
You froze as Heeseung’s fingers wrapped around yours, his hand warm and steady against your own.
“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice rough and low, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers left yours, only to trail upward, brushing against your arm before settling gently on your face.
“Y/N,” he said again, his voice softer now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. His palm cupped your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart stutter, his thumb grazing your skin in slow, soothing circles. The intimacy of the gesture sent your senses into overdrive. His hand was warm, his touch light, but the closeness between you was almost too much to handle.
You dared to glance up, meeting his eyes. His gaze flickered downward, lingering on your lips for a beat too long before returning to yours. The proximity was dizzying. You could feel the faint brush of his breath against your face and it made your head spin.
“You’re making it really hard to focus,” he murmured, his thumb continuing its gentle path along your cheekbone.
“I’m not doing anything,” you whispered, but your voice was unsteady.
Heeseung’s lips tilted into a small, knowing smile. His other hand came up, cradling your face fully now, his fingers curling lightly around the edges of your jaw. He tilted your face up slightly, his thumb brushing over your chin in a way that left you breathless.
“You are,” he said softly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours as his voice dropped even lower. “You always do.”
“Heeseung…” you tried, your voice barely audible, but whatever you wanted to say evaporated as his fingers shifted, tilting your head just enough that his eyes could lock on yours completely. You were pretty sure that his expression was comparable to the one you gave your Taemin poster back in highschool.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, the words so quiet they almost didn’t register.
You didn’t want to stop. The thought of pulling away was laughable. Instead, you gripped the front of his shirt. “I won’t,” you breathed, the words barely leaving your lips.
That was all he needed. He closed the gap between you, his lips hesitantly brushing against yours. It was soft at first, almost testing, but the moment you leaned into him, the kiss deepened.
You melted into him, your hand sliding up to tangle in his hair, and he groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you. His fingers danced across your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every brush of his lips, every touch, sent electricity through your veins.
His hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he tilted your head slightly, deepening the kiss even more. A soft sound escaped you, and you could feel him smile against your lips..
You responded instinctively, your hand brushing against his chest, then sliding down to the hem of his shirt. The sensation of his warm skin under your fingertips made your breath hitch, but before you could let yourself get lost in the moment, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.
“You okay?” His voice was low, a little strained, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
You nodded, still breathing a little heavier than normal. “Yeah. Please don’t stop.”
You gave his hair a small tug again, bringing his lips back to yours. Heeseung’s lips never left yours as he slowly, almost reverently, moved you so that you were straddling him. His hands rested on your waist, his thumbs brushing softly against the exposed skin just above your hips, sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers gently graced the angry red scars along your hip.
“I—Sorry,” you muttered against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned your face away, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean for you to see those.”
Heeseung’s gaze softened, his fingers stopping at the hem of your shirt. He gently cupped your face with one hand, tilting it upward again so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Don’t apologize,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.
You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Heeseung’s fingers gently brushed over your scars again, this time intentionally.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “All of you.”
“Heeseung…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your gaze flickered down to his lips and then back up to meet his eyes again.
He leaned in again, capturing your lips. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a slow urgency. His hand, now fully under your shirt, splayed across your stomach, fingers tracing your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. You could feel his warmth radiating against you, every touch, every movement, setting your skin on fire.
His lips left yours, trailing along your jawline, down to your neck, kissing, nipping at the skin there. You could feel the heat of his breath against your throat, each kiss igniting a fire that spread throughout your body.
“Can I take your shirt off Y/N”, he breathed out.
You just nodded and he carefully lifted you shirt up, revealing your upper body. He threw your (his) shirt off the bed and gently shifted the two of you, laying you back against the pillows. His lips hovered over yours, his breath warm against your skin as his eyes searched yours. “Fuck, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with emotion. “You’re so hot.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the unexpected comment catching you off guard, but the sound was quickly swallowed by him pressing his lips to yours with a fervor that left you breathless.
His hands began to explore your body again. His fingers grazed the curve of your waist, drifting higher, brushing the edge of your bra. The sensation drew a soft gasp from your lips, and the sound seemed to spur him on. His lips left yours to trail kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and lower. You felt the warm press of his lips against the scars along your hip. He kissed each mark with care, as if they were something to be cherished.
Your breath hitched as his gaze flicked upward, meeting yours. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes. Unable to find the right words, you carefully reached down, your fingers brushing against his jaw as you guided his face closer to yours. Before you could speak, a sudden, sharp pounding on the door shattered the moment.
“Heeseung! I hate to break up whatever’s going on in there, but the coach wants us at the rink in, like, 30 minutes,” Jake’s voice rang out through the closed door.
Heeseung groaned, his forehead falling against yours as his lips curved into a reluctant smirk. “Of course,” he muttered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. “The world’s worst timing award goes to your father.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly.
As Heeseung and Jake arrived at the rink, a heavy tension hung in the air. The team was scattered around the locker room, each member in a different state of exhaustion.
“Dude, yesterday got crazy after you left,” EJ muttered beside him, still rubbing his temples.
Nicolas, nursing a bruised cheek and offering a wry grin, added, “Not exactly our fault though. Kim Yeoso started it.”
Before Heeseung could ask for more details, the Coach’s voice echoed sharply across the room. “Line up. Now.”
The room fell silent, and a collective weight seemed to settle on everyone as the Coach’s gaze traveled down the line of players. His pacing was slow and deliberate.
“Last night was a disgrace. I don’t care who threw the first punch or how it started—this is my team, and I don’t want this kind of attention.”
His glare seared through the team, and though he moved down the line, his eyes rested on Heeseung a beat longer than the others, his silent accusation unmistakable.
Heeseung felt the full weight of the words, as if they were directed solely at him. His chest tightened, but he kept his face neutral, silently bracing himself as the Coach continued.
Finally, your fathers eyes flickered back to the team with an almost weary finality. “Meeting’s over,” he said, dismissing the rest of the team. “Not you, Heeseung. Stay a minute.”
The players exchanged wary glances as they filed out, each one offering him silent nods of support. Heeseung turned to see the Coach shut the door, his expression shifting from professional disappointment to something far more personal.
His voice was colder than ever when he started speaking: “I’ll ask you once, Heeseung, and I expect a straight answer. What’s going on between you and Y/N?”
His jaw clenched as he quickly composed himself, being caught off guard by the question. “With all due respect, Coach,” he started, his voice calm but firm, “my personal life and Y/N’s are private. I don’t feel it’s appropriate to discuss this with you.”
The Coach’s face darkened, his patience clearly wearing thin. “You think I’m just some overprotective dad, Heeseung?” he bit out, his tone cutting. “She’s barely recovered, and getting involved with you is a distraction she doesn’t need. If you care about her as much as you seem to, you’d understand that.”
Heeseung felt his hands clench at his sides, the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. “I understand what she’s been through, Coach. But Y/N is stronger than you’re giving her credit for. And I’m not backing off because it makes you uncomfortable.”
The air between them turned icy. Your fathers expression hardened. “Then you’re making a mistake,” he warned, his voice low, barely contained. “Because if you don’t back off, I’ll make sure there are consequences. And that’s not a threat, Heeseung—that’s a promise.”
Heeseung’s pulse pounded as the gravity of Coach’s words settled in, but he stood firm, his voice unwavering.
“I’m sorry, Coach Choi. But with all due respect, I’m not going anywhere.”
No matter what Coach threatened, Heeseung knew he wouldn’t step back. He was already drafted and chose to go back to college hockey, so the Coach had nothing on him.
Your father held his gaze a moment longer, his expression unreadable but filled with a disappointed resolve.
“Fine,” he said curtly. “Then don’t expect me to go easy on you.” Without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving Heeseung standing alone in the empty locker room.
“It’s not about whether or not you think you’re fine!” Your fathrs voice is sharper than ever, frustration bubbling over as he paces in front of you. “You’re ignoring your own recovery. The doctors said you could walk without crutches, but they didn’t say to push yourself to the point of needing another surgery. What are you thinking?”
The accusation stinged, sharp and unexpected. You blinked, willing yourself not to let him see how much that hurt. Another surgery. He knew, maybe better than anyone, how terrified you were of that possibility. And here he was, throwing it in your face as if it’s something you’d choose—like you’d ever risk it on purpose.
A mix of disbelief and anger rose within you, and you stood up, meeting his intense gaze. “You know I don’t want that. You know better than anyone what I’ve been through, and you think I’d risk more just for one night? I’m not being reckless, I’m just… living my life.”
“Living your life?” he snapped back, his tone filled with frustration. “Living your life means ignoring everything you’ve fought to rebuild, just for a night of fun? I’m trying to keep you from setting yourself back.”
“You’re acting like I don’t take this seriously! Like I haven’t been doing everything I can to heal. I know my body better than anyone, Dad. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you treating me like I’m made of glass.”, your voice was shaking in anger.
When your father and Soobin returned from the rink you weren’t even able to properly greet them, before your father started berating you.
Soobin’s voice cut through the tension, calm but unwavering. “She’s an adult, Dad. Y/N knows her limits. You can’t keep controlling everything.”
Your dad turned sharply to face Soobin, his gaze hard. “This isn’t about what she thinks she can handle, Soobin. It’s about being realistic, about protecting her from making choices she’ll regret later.”
Soobin didnt back down. “But you’re treating her like she’s fragile when she’s proven over and over that she’s not.”
“I just don’t want her making reckless decisions,” your dad insited, but his eyes slide back to you.
Your dad’s tone was sharp as he moved past your injuries.
“And then there’s Heeseung.” The way he says his name makes you flinch. “He’s a distraction, Y/N. You’re already pushing yourself too hard, and now you’re getting involved with someone who won’t be there when things get difficult. If you’re not careful, you’ll lose focus on everything that matters. And in addition to that you are distracting my captain from his duties.”
Before you could respond, Soobin stepped forward, his voice firm. “Dad, you’re being unfair.”
Your dad turned, surprised, but Soobin stood his ground. “You know Heeseung. You were the one who made him captain because you trusted him to lead. He’s responsible, he’s focused, and he cares about Y/N, more than you’re giving him credit for.”
Your dad’s expression hardened, and he crossed his arms. “He’s a good player, Soobin. But he’s young, and he doesn’t understand what Y/N needs right now.”
“And you think you do?” You countered, voice tight with frustration. “I am an adult. I know what I'm doing. And Heeseung’s been there for me, supporting me, making sure I am taking care of myself. He’s never pushed me into anything that would risk me recovery.”
Your father hesitated, his gaze moving between you and Soobin, a flicker of doubt finally creeping into his expression. But he quickly brushed it off, his jaw set in a familiar look of stubbornness. “You’re not seeing the big picture. I’m trying to protect you, to keep you from making choices you'll regret later.”
You couldn’t hold back anymore. “The only thing I’m going to regret is not standing up for what I want and what I know I can handle. Heeseung isn’t the problem here, Dad. And if you would actually talk to me, you’d know that he’s been nothing but respectful and supportive.”
Soobin looked at your father, his tone more measured. “I trust Heeseung, Dad. You should, too. And more than that, you need to trust Y/N. She knows her limits better than anyone else here.”
Your father’s silence spoke volumes. Finally, he lets out a slow breath, his gaze softening just slightly. “I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt, Y/N.”
“I know,” you said, your voice steadier now. “But I’m not going to let fear control me.”
For once, he didn’t argue, and though the silence remains strained, there’s a glimmer of something that felt like reluctant acceptance. Soobin squeezed your shoulder in quiet reassurance.
You and Soobin sat cross-legged on Yeonjun's living room floor, surrounded by discarded pizza boxes and half-empty soda cans. You let out a frustrated groan and leaned back, resting your head against the couch right next to Beomgyu's thigh, who patted your head in solidarity.
“Maybe you should just… move out? Like properly," Beomgyu suggested, his voice gentle but with a hint of urgency. "If he sees you’re capable on your own, maybe he’d finally get that you’re an independent adult who knows what she’s doing.”
You sighed. “I’d love to, honestly. But how am I even supposed to manage that?” You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It’s not like I have a job—he’s always insisted that I focus on school, hockey, or ‘recovery.’ Everything’s paid for by him. So if I tried to move out, I’d probably have to ask him for rent money anyway. I’m not really independent.”
Soobin, sitting cross-legged beside you, crossed his arms. “Mom would definitely cover your rent if you asked. She’s offered to help me plenty of times.”
Yeonjun, lounging on the other side of the room with a slice of pizza in hand, smirked. “Yeah, and Soobin, you should really take her up on that sometime. You’ve crashed on my couch way too many nights,” he teased, nudging Soobin’s leg with his foot.
“Maybe I could ask her.” You shrugged, the thought of moving out felt a bit daunting.
“Trust me, we’ll find you a place that works,” Yeonjun assured, with his usual casual confidence. He reached over and tousled your hair, smiling as he added, “And hey, if nothing else, my couch will always be happy to host any Choi family member.”
“Thanks, Yeonjun,” you laughed, feeling a little lighter.
In the end, you decided to stay at Yeji’s and Ryujin’s dorm for a few days. You weren’t ready for the full commitment of moving out just yet, but the space away from home was a welcome relief. Their couch became your temporary refuge, a safe distance from the constant arguments and suffocating expectations.
And it seemed your dad got the hint after a few days of you not coming home and keeping conversations strictly professional at work. You noticed his glances lingering a bit longer than usual whenever he’d pass you at the rink, sometimes with a sigh or a hesitant pause, as if he wanted to say something but held back. Each time he tried, though, Soobin, your (now official) boyfriend, or one of their friends would step in, steering you away from him, often under the guise of needing help with some “urgent task.”
Heeseung was sprawled out on the couch, fingers deftly moving over the controller as he focused intently on the game playing out on the screen. The familiar sounds of COD echoed through the apartment. You had just returned from physiotherapy, and the session had left you exhausted.
You rested your head in Heeseung’s lap, the soft fabric of his sweatpants cushy against your cheek.
“Gotcha!” Heeseung exclaimed suddenly, his excitement pulling you out of your sleepy haze. Just as you began to relax back into the soothing rhythm of him playing, the ringing of Heeseung's phone cut through the peaceful atmosphere. He frowned, glancing down at the screen.
“It’s Jay,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully.
He answered the call, holding the phone to his ear. “What’s up?”
You shifted slightly in his lap, burying your face into his stomach, seeking more comfort. Heeseung chuckled, brushing your hair back gently. “Yeah, I’m here. What’s going on?”
As Jay spoke on the other end, Heeseung’s face lit up with a smile. “Oh, curry sounds good!”
At the mention of curry, you stirred, raising your head to look at him. “Oh yes curry.” you mumbled sleepily, your voice muffled against his shirt.
Heeseung raised an eyebrow at you, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Want curry?” he asked, repeating your question back to you. You nodded slowly, still feeling heavy with tiredness, and you buried your face deeper into his stomach as if hiding from the world.
You nodded sleepily, and he relayed the message to Jay. “Y/N’s here, and she’s definitely in for some curry,” he said, laughing at how cozy you looked all curled up against him.
After hanging up, Heeseung glanced down at you, his expression softening. “Jay is bringing over curry, is that fine with you?”
You nodded, still half-asleep. “Yeah.”
He chuckled softly, running his fingers through your hair. You shifted again, resting your cheek against his stomach, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment longer.
“You’re warm,” you murmured, feeling the vibrations of his laughter through your body.
Heeseung’s hand continued to play with your hair, a peaceful silence settling over the room again.
“You know, if you keep this up, we might miss dinner and just sleep until tomorrow,” he teased, and you just nodded, not responding anymore.
As sleep began to take hold, Heeseung gently scooped you up in his arms and carried you to his bedroom, tucking you under the blankets. The last thing you felt was his warmth beside you, and then you were out like a light.
You awoke to the sound of animated voices and the smell of food. Blinking against the light, you felt slightly disoriented.
As you stepped into the kitchen area, you latched onto Heeseung’s back, burying your face into his shoulder. He chuckled softly, clearly amused.
“Well good evening, nice of you to join us,” he said, leaning back into you.
Jay and Jake turned, both bursting into laughter at the sight. “Look at you two! So cute,” Jake teased, leaning against the counter with a smug grin.
“Heeseung’s gotten so soft, it’s actually embarrassing.” Jay added, shaking his head in mock disbelief.
As you took a seat at the table, Jay served up generous portions of steaming curry, filling the kitchen with a delicious warmth. You nestled into the chair beside Heeseung, pulling his hoodie sleeves over your hands to keep cozy.
Jake leaned back in his chair, digging into his food. “Not gonna lie, this curry tastes like heaven after today’s practice,” he said, letting out a small groan of appreciation.
Heeseung nodded, laughing. “Tell me about it. Coach was on us the whole time, especially after the last game. I can still feel the bruises from blocking shots in the scrimmage.”
Jake joined in with a laugh. “Y/N, you should’ve seen him. Dude was practically diving in front of pucks like it was a championship game.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Absolutely no chill.”
“Hey, that ‘no chill’ gets results,” Heeseung shot back, grinning before glancing at you a little more seriously.
“Actually… speaking of practice. Your dad stopped me today. He asked about you.”
You paused mid-bite, meeting Heeseung’s gaze. “ What did he say?”
“Nothing pushy,” Heeseung said, clearly choosing his words carefully. “He just asked if I’d seen you and if you were doing alright.”
You took a moment to process it, unsure how to feel. “I mean, he has been calling. And he has been asking Soobin and Minji where I am. Soobin just told to guess where I am.”
Jay gave a thoughtful nod. “Well, maybe he is trying to fix things?.”
Heeseung gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “I think Jay has a point. Maybe it’s worth giving him a chance to apologize.”
You sighed, your eyes drifting down to your half-finished plate. “It’s just… every time we have a conversation, he manages to make it feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m throwing away his idea of the perfect future, or like my decisions don’t matter. I don’t know if I want to go through all that again.”
Jake, who had been quietly stirring his drink, chimed in with a thoughtful look. “Maybe this time you don’t have to go through all of it. Talk to him on your terms. You don’t owe him anything more than what you’re comfortable with.”
Heeseung nodded. “Exactly. You can set boundaries. I’ll even be there if you want—or, you know, Soobin could tag along for backup moral support.”
Jake chuckled, giving you a reassuring smile. “Just let him do all the talking. Sometimes people need to hear themselves to realize how ridiculous they sound.”
You exhaled slowly,”I’ll think about it.”
You entered the rink together with Jays girl (space) friend, ready to capture the day’s events. The hockey team had organized a special event where they would teach local kids the basics of hockey, and you were there to film some PR content.
Heeseung crouched down, demonstrating how to hold a stick while surrounded by a group of eager kids. You couldn’t help but smile as you filmed, completely enchanted by how cute he looked in his hockey gear, patiently explaining everything while the kids watched with wide eyes.
After a while, Heeseung noticed you filming from the sidelines and excused himself from the kids. He made his way over to you.
“Hi baby.” he greeted you, gently taking your face in his hands, tilting it up toward him. His eyes searched yours for a moment, and then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It was sweet and tender, and you melted into him, completely forgetting about the cameras and the kids for a few blissful seconds.
“Ew. Boo! Get a room!” Beomgyu called out from the sidelines, pretending to gag dramatically, his face scrunched up in mock disgust. You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to suppress a smile.
“Sorry, Beomgyu. Didn’t know you were such a romantic,” you shot back.
Heeseung chuckled. “Don’t be jealous, Gyu. Just appreciate the love in the air.” Heeseung pecked your lips again and went back onto the ice, regrouping the kids for another round of activities.
Heeseung made his way up to your office when the event ended. He knocked at your door and peaked his face into the room: “Let’s go home babe. The kids are all gone.”
“Give me ten minutes. I’ll be done with the Tiktok recap for today.”, you said, softly smiling at him.
“Sure thing.”, he plopped down onto the sofa in your office and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
As you wrapped up the editing, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Heeseung was focused, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration, and you felt a rush of affection. When you finished, you got up and sat down on his lap, surprising him.
“Hey there,” he said, a smile breaking through his concentration. His hands found their way to your sides, his touch warm.
“Hi Love.” You leaned in closer, caressing his cheek gently. “I gotta say seeing you with kids? Might be one of the best things ever.” you teased, inching your lips closer to his.
Heeseung’s eyes sparkled, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Oh yeah? I guess I’ll have to volunteer more often, then.”
“You just might have to,” you replied, leaning in closer, letting your hand drift to his cheek, your thumb brushing his skin.
He closed the gap between you. The kiss was soft at first, just a gentle brushing of lips, but it quickly deepened as he pulled you closer, his hands resting firmly on your waist. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you lost yourself in the moment. You tilted your head to the side and gasped when Heeseung traced your lips with his tongue. His hands started caressing your thighs as you broke the kiss to breathe for a second. He directed his focus onto your neck, kissing it softly.
You closed your eyes and whispered his name, when a sharp knock on your door made you jump apart.
“Y/N? Do you have a minute for me?”, your fathers deep voice came from the other side of the door.
You threw a panicked glance at Heeseung, who was frantically trying to smooth his hair and pull his sweatshirt into a more composed position. If your ears were even half as red as his, your father would definitely know what he’d just interrupted.
With a quick attempt to brush your own hair back, you got up, meeting Heeseung’s sheepish smile with a reassuring one of your own.
Finally, you took a steadying breath and walked to open the door. “Sure, Dad. Come in.”
Your father stepped inside, taking in the two of you with an expression that looked almost nervous? “Y/N,” he began, his voice hesitant, “can I talk to you for a minute? Both of you, actually.”
You exchanged a quick, curious look with Heeseung before nodding. Heeseung sat up straighter, and your dad took a deep breath before sinking into the office chair opposite you.
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” your dad started, his hands clasped tightly together. “About everything… about how I’ve treated you since the accident.” His voice cracked slightly, and you felt your chest tighten.
“I’ve been so hard on you, Y/N. Pushing, hovering, nagging… It’s like I’ve been trying to fix something I can’t undo.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his vulnerability. “Dad…”
“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I can’t forgive myself for what happened. I feel like I failed you. You’re so young, and you’ve had to deal with so much—too much. And instead of helping you heal, I made things worse by trying to control everything. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of you hurting, and I thought that if I stayed on top of everything, it might somehow fix things.”
The raw emotion in his voice left you speechless.
“I was wrong,” he continued, looking up at you now, his eyes glassy. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved someone who could help you without suffocating you.”
You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “Dad, I—”
“And Heeseung,” your dad continued, turning his attention to the boy at your side. The tension in the room seemed to double.
Heeseung straightened, his jaw tightening as if bracing for a blow.
“I was hard on you. I know that,” your dad admitted.
“When I found out about you and Y/N, I wasnt exactly happy.”
You winced at the memory, glancing at Heeseung, who gave a small, humorless smile.
“I didn’t want her getting hurt,” your dad said, his voice softer now. “But I realize now that I was wrong about you.” He paused, running a hand over his face before meeting Heeseung’s gaze again. “You’re not just a great captain. You’re a good man. And I couldn’t ask for anyone better to be with my daughter.”
Heeseung looked stunned, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process the words. Finally, he managed a quiet, “Thank you, sir.”
Your dad gave a small, rueful smile. “You’ve earned it. Both of you have. And I hope you’ll forgive me for the way I’ve handled things. I know it’ll take time to rebuild some of the trust I’ve broken, but I just wanted you both to know how sorry I am.”
For a long moment, silence hung in the air. You felt Heeseung’s hand brush against yours, grounding you, and you reached out to take your dad’s hand.
“Thank you, Dad,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m still mad at you, a little. But… I’m glad you said this. It means a lot.”
Heeseung nodded beside you, his own expression softening. “We appreciate it,” he said sincerely. “Really.”
Your dad gave a small, watery smile.
The hotel room was softly lit, the glow from the bedside lamp casting a golden hue. You were at the small vanity, adjusting your earrings. Behind you, Heeseung was sprawled out on the bed, still in his undershirt and slacks, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.
“You’re not even close to being ready,” you teased, catching his reflection in the mirror.
Heeseung smirked, locking his phone and stretching out lazily. “I’m waiting for you to come help me with this dumb tie. You know I suck at it.”
“You could have learned by now,” you chided, turning to face him. “But no, you just like making me do it for you.”
“Maybe,” he said, sitting up. “But it’s also an excuse to keep you close.”
You rolled your eyes but crossed the room anyway. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased, sitting up and letting his knees part slightly so you could stand between them.
Heeseung grinned, holding the tie up like a peace offering. You took it from him, carefully looping and pulling it into a neat knot. He watched you the entire time, his eyes soft and unwavering.
“You’re staring,” you mumbled, focusing on his tie.
“Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply.
Your fingers faltered for a second before continuing, looping the tie around his neck and starting to knot it.
“You’re so cheesy.”
“And you love it,” he quipped, echoing your usual response.
Heeseung tilted his head slightly, watching you with that warm, unrelenting gaze that always made your heart skip.
As you finished the tie, your fingers brushing against his chest, he reached out to grab your hand, stopping you before you could step back. “Are you sure I look good enough to be seen with you?”
You arched a brow, feigning consideration. “Hmm. Maybe. You clean up okay.”
“Just okay?” he asked, tugging gently on your hand to pull you closer. His other hand slid to your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against the fabric of your dress.
“Better than okay,” you admitted softly, feeling his warmth seep through the fabric.
“That’s more like it.” Heeseung’s voice dropped an octave. His free hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his fingers traced lightly down the side of your neck.
“You’re staring again,” you murmured, your voice unsteady under his gaze.
“Can you blame me?” he said, his lips quirking into a grin. “You’re stunning.”
“Flatterer,” you mumbled, though your cheeks flushed at his words.
“You’re blushing,” he teased, leaning in until your noses were almost touching.
“Stop it,” you whispered, half laughing, but you didn’t pull away.
“Make me.”
He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips were on yours, soft at first, just a gentle brush. But the moment you leaned into him, he made a low sound deep in his throat, and the kiss shifted—growing hungrier, more urgent. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other cradled your face. One of his hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, the simple gesture making your heart race even faster.
You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped you when he deepened the kiss, his tongue tentatively exploring as though he was savoring every second. Your hands instinctively flew to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer. He groaned at the sensation, his fingers tightening slightly against your back. A soft whimper escaped your throat when he tilted his head, adjusting the angle to kiss you even deeper. His lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a mixture of passion and care that made your heart race. The hand on your back shifted, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles that made your skin tingle even through the fabric of your dress.
He pulled back just slightly, enough to draw in a breath, but his forehead stayed pressed to yours. His eyes were hooded, his pupils dark with something that made your stomach flip. His thumb grazed your lower lip.
“You’re going to drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.
“Right back at you,” you whispered, but before you could catch your breath, he leaned back in, capturing your lips again.
This time, the kiss was slower but no less intense, his lips lingering as though memorizing the taste of you. His hand drifted upward, tangling lightly in the hair at the nape of your neck, while yours tightened their grip in his. The small tug you gave his hair made him groan again, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a delicious thrill down your spine.
His free hand slid along your waist, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your dress as though he couldn’t decide whether to hold you closer or take his time exploring. A small, breathless sound escaped you, and he pulled back just enough to look at you.
“You taste like vanilla,” he murmured, his voice husky and low.
“Is that a complaint?” you asked, your voice breathless, your fingers still tangled in his hair.
“Not even close,” he whispered before diving back in, his lips capturing yours with a renewed fervor.
When he finally pulled away, his lips hovered just above yours, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face.“Still think we’re going to be late?”
You laughed, brushing a hand through his hair to smooth it. “Definitely.”
“And I don’t even feel bad about it,” he said, leaning in to steal one more kiss before letting you go.
“Come on,” you said, grabbing your clutch from the nightstand. “Get your jacket. We’re already pushing it.”
He hopped up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. As you turned toward the door, he caught your hand and pulled you back to him. “For the record,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, “I don’t care if we miss the gala entirely. I’ve already got everything I want right here.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “You’re impossible.”
“I am just lucky you love me.” he said, flashing you that boyish grin as he opened the door for you.
the misfortunes and misconceptions of lee heeseung
❝ i'll let you in on a little secret: wanting nothing to do with y/n starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her. ❞
PAIRING ▸ slytherin!heeseung x hufflepuff!fem!reader
GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, hogwarts au, idiots to lovers au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, the classic amortentia trope because what screams valentine's day like love potions, heeseung is down horrendous, sunghoon missing half an eyebrow, jake is babygirl, lots of catastrophizing, minor bending of canon for plot convenience, and a kiss scene of course
SUMMARY ▸ by no means does lee heeseung hold any romantic feelings toward you. the mere possibility is jarring, considering his luck seems to take a turn for the worst whenever he’s around you. from getting hit with a bludger during quidditch to getting into trouble with filch for setting off dungbombs in his office, heeseung starts to think you’re some sort of bad omen. he’s prepared for disaster when you two become partners in potions, but why does the amortentia smell like you?
WORD COUNT ▸ 13,497 words
PLAYLIST ▸ lavender kiss by the licks
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is jayflrt's valentine for you ♡
LEE HEESEUNG WAS CERTAIN YOU MUST HAVE HAD AN AFFINITY FOR NEARLY KILLING HIM REGULARLY.
When he, Slytherin’s prized Seeker, got knocked off his broom by a bludger, there was only one potential suspect he could narrow the crime down to in his head.
In your hand was the very bat that sent the bludger in his way, hitting his miserable self square in the gut.
This seemed to be a pattern between the two of you, where it was mostly Heeseung experiencing great misfortune because of the Hufflepuff’s mere existence. His best friend, Park Jongseong, told him that he had probably wronged you in a past life for him to suffer this much around you. While Heeseung initially brushed it off as a joke, he couldn’t help but start to question if it was actually true.
Back in his first year, Heeseung met you during the Sorting Hat ceremony, where you accidentally tripped him right before he walked up to get sorted. Everyone in the Grand Hall laughed at him, which was not his idea of a welcoming initiation into Slytherin, so he glared holes into the back of your head for the rest of the year.
In his third year, you ran into him at King’s Cross station, causing all of his trunks to go flying. While you were helping him repack everything, you two realized that the Hogwarts Express was long gone, and neither of you could even access the magical entryway to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Heeseung cried into his hands at the train station until a professor Apparated to pick them both up, and then you teased him about his tears for what felt like forever.
In a similar sense, Heeseung had somehow always managed to get into trouble when he was around you. Now, he had naturally grown out of disliking you for causing him so much suffering (mostly because he was far more popular now and everyone had forgotten about how you sent him flying during a duel, unfortunately revealing his strawberry-patterned boxers to an entire room of second and third years), but Heeseung was still wary about the adversity that seemed to follow you.
Were you a friend? Heeseung couldn’t tell for sure. You two spent an awfully long amount of time together, but you both also had your separate friend groups that hardly intermingled. Heeseung supposed you were more of a thorn in his side that hurt more when he tried to yank it out.
Now, there was nothing left for him to do now but clutch his stomach in pain and pray that he didn’t need to spend another night in the infirmary because of you. (Madam Pomfrey started to keep a tally; “Oh, Miss L/N didn’t injure you again, did she? Have a toffee, sweetheart,” was what he was expecting to hear from the school nurse.)
“Heeseung! Are you okay?” you asked, running up to him with your other hand clutching your broom. Thankfully, Heeseung had managed to grip his broom with one hand on the way down until he had safely landed, so there were no damages to his Moontrimmer. “Who did this to you?!”
“I know you’re holding the bat behind your back, Y/N,” he got out through gritted teeth.
He watched as you let your arm fall defeatedly to your side, revealing the Beater’s bat that violated practically every safety protocol.
“Oh, how embarrassing,” Kim Minjeong, the Chaser for the Slytherin team, said with a giggle from behind her palm. She was still floating a few feet from the ground, witnessing the damage done from her broom. Heeseung glared up at her. “Not a good look for you, Captain.”
Normally, he would shut Minjeong up with his usual threat that went something along the lines of putting a curse on her bloodline. This time, however, Heeseung was in far too much pain and humiliation to come up with a witty comeback.
Madam Hooch came running across the field to see what happened to her star Quidditch player. On the bright side, Heeseung knew that you wouldn’t get in trouble because game was game; you were just doing what you needed to ensure your victory, even though Slytherin still had a huge lead on Hufflepuff. After momentary deliberation, however, Heeseung realized that the bright side should have been the fact that he was still alive. Why was he thinking about you, anyway? He would pay galleons to see you get in trouble—but not too much trouble (and Merlin’s beard, he was far too soft).
“He needs to be taken to the infirmary,” Madam Hooch said. She spared you a glance before making a shooing motion with her gloved hand. By this time, his friends (Park Sunghoon, a sixth year who Heeseung ‘adopted’ in his second year, and Yang Jungwon, a broody fourth year with a penchant for rule-breaking) had come running down the stands and across the field. “You can visit him after you finish the match, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey can handle this.”
“Yes, of course,” you murmured, turning to Heeseung again and muttering a pathetic apology, to which he cracked a grin at. Maybe he shouldn’t have been grinning since you nearly cracked his skull open, or maybe he had really lost it this time.
“It’s only been a week since you’ve managed to nearly get me killed.” Heeseung shuddered at the memory of you accidentally setting his cloak on fire last week with a Blasting Charm. “Don’t worry. I knew something was gonna happen sooner or later.”
Words of affirmation weren’t exactly his strong suit.
But upon seeing the awkward grin on your face, like a blast of light that hit him all at once, Heeseung was suddenly painfully aware of everything—the awfully pleasant scent of lavender wafting from you, the searing ache from his injury, the way your hair framed your face, and the cool metal balled in his fist.
Wait—metal?
Before he was about to be carried out in a not-so-dignified manner, Heeseung raised his arm to open his palm, revealing the Golden Snitch that sat obediently, fanning its wings out once before closing again. A gasp rose from the crowd, and then the shocked looks from both teams followed. Minjeong nearly fell off her broom. The Slytherin house all but exploded in cheers after Madam Hooch gaped at the sight, fumbled for her whistle, blew it loudly, and then announced Slytherin’s victory over Hufflepuff.
Heeseung sighed in relief and fully collapsed onto the ground, looking up at the clear sky with contentment lifting the anguish from his brows. And now that he knew the verdict of the match, the pain finally hit him all at once, and he hoped Madam Pomfrey could fix him up before his house started celebrating their triumph.
“Heeseung! That was an incredible play!” Nishimura Riki, a fourth year Gryffindor, cried as he came running from the stands. If by incredible, he was referring to Heeseung getting bludgeoned to the ground, then sure, incredible—outstanding, even. The flash of Riki’s camera went off, capturing a pathetic-looking Heeseung lying limp on the springy turf. “This’ll definitely make the front page!”
Ever since the Nishimura kid got an internship at the Daily Prophet, the Slytherin team had been worried about appearing on the news unprompted—most likely in unflattering angles, too. It had even gotten to the point of Song Eunseok pinning up a poster of Riki to a corkboard in the locker room, as if he was a wanted criminal at large.
“Er, could we retake—”
“You grab his legs,” a voice from behind him ordered. It was Sunghoon, who had come running with Jungwon to carry him out of the field. “I’ll take his arms.”
Heeseung balked. “Guys, wait!”
But it was no use. He was already in the air, and Jungwon and Sunghoon were both ignoring his protests.
As if he was a rather sad sack of potatoes, Heeseung was carried out, body dangling and his eyes screwed shut as he heard more flashes of Riki’s camera going off. Most of all, he wondered if you caught sight of how pitiful he was. Surely, you found it hilarious, didn’t you? He was certain he would get teased endlessly in Charms next week.
“Nice game, champ,” Jungwon commented oh-so-casually, and Heeseung’s blood started boiling.
“Can you put me down already?! We have magic for a reason!” he blurted out, but his two friends ignored him all the same.
“I saw Sunoo being carried out like this the other day outside of the Dueling Club meeting room,” Sunghoon mused, and Heeseung imagined the poor Slytherin also being hauled to the infirmary like a ragdoll. “I heard he got hit with a nasty Disarming Charm. Someone nearly blasted the poor guy right into the Clock Tower’s pendulum.”
“I know. He’s better at dodging than I thought,” Jungwon replied unsympathetically. “What a shame. I’ll get him next time.”
Heeseung blanched. Poor Kim Sunoo.
But then he remembered his current state and thought Sunoo was better off than him. At least Sunoo wasn’t carried out in front of the entire school.
Really, the reason why Heeseung was so agitated was because being Slytherin’s Seeker meant that he had an important role. It was a responsibility that clearly set him apart, and it surely had to look impressive to others—for example, you—but here he was, being carried out of the Quidditch pitch like an idiot. It put all of his hard work and countless hours of practice to shame.
Thankfully, although his failing jock status might have damaged his ego to the point of no return, Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to think his injuries were too severe this time. After a few healing charms, which made him feel back to normal in no time, Heeseung was ready to leave the infirmary.
Sunghoon and Jungwon ended up leaving right after dropping him off, claiming that they had to go celebrate their win in the Slytherin common room. Heeseung found it completely disrespectful to ditch the very person who brought them to victory.
To his surprise, you were waiting outside the door, twiddling your thumbs and doing that annoyingly cute habit of yours where you chewed on the inside of your cheek whenever you were in trouble (which, frankly, happened a lot of the time). He made a great deal of effort to adjust his cape before walking over to you with raised eyebrows, wondering if an apology was coming his way.
“I just wanted to say,” you started, voice uncharacteristically small and wavering, but then you followed up with an incomprehensible mumble that Heeseung could hardly decipher.
“What?”
“Uh,” you raised your voice this time, keeping it steadier with extra effort, “on the way here—funny story, really—I was telling Jake about how you set off a Dungbomb in Filch’s office the other week. Honest to God, I didn’t even see Mrs. Norris!”
Although you didn’t provide a solid conclusion, he was able to connect the dots and figure out what you were getting at. He almost wished he stayed oblivious because how was this happening to him twice in a day?
Heeseung’s face fell. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“Filch is looking for you,” you finished with a guilty look drawn across your face.
It happened to be your second guilty look of the day, actually. Two too many for Heeseung to handle.
There was one thing Lee Heeseung was quite sure of, and it was that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you from now on.
The aftermath of his scolding from Filch resulted in him receiving evening detentions for the rest of the week. All you brought him was terrible luck wherever he went, and despite how nice you smelled and how shiny your hair was, he didn’t need your misfortune clinging to him like it would be the last breath he’d take.
Honestly, any longer around you and he was pretty sure he would be taking his last breath soon.
But it was honestly ridiculous how hard Heeseung had to restrain himself from going near you. He would pass by your unbothered self in the Courtyard, hoping to get some verbal recognition from you that would change his mind about his whole ignoring thing, but you simply just paid more attention to stupid Jake Sim from Hufflepuff.
Who cared about Jake Sim, anyway? Surely not the several girls in his year that threw themselves at him. There was nothing redeeming about him, not even with his perfect smile and perfect grades and perfect robes. Honestly, where did he get those robes? Heeseung bought his at Madam Malkin’s, like virtually every other student, but they weren’t as perfectly trimmed and fitted as Jake Sim’s perfect robes.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Park Jongseong, a sixth year Ravenclaw, sneered once he saw the glower across Heeseung’s face. “Wanting nothing to do with Y/N starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her.”
“Who said I didn’t not want anything to do with her?” Heeseung fired back, but even he was confused about his response, taking a few extra seconds to process what nonsense had just spewed out of his mouth. “Okay, look, just pretend I said the funniest thing you’ve ever heard when she walks by us.”
“Actually, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Heeseung gave him an exasperated look. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I mean, you’re not that funny to begin with. Kind of hilarious that you think you’d be able to tell me the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You literally just told me I said the funniest thing ever.”
“Funny because it was such a pathetic thing to say. There’s a difference.”
“You’re a stupid git, you know that?”
“Am I now?”
“The stupidest of stupid gits.”
In truth, Jake was the stupid git. Jongseong could tease Heeseung all he wanted, but Jake Sim was the one grinning down at you with a stupid sparkle in his eyes, taunting the Slytherin with those evil, perfect corners of his lips. Didn’t he have better things to do? Like not taking up the oxygen in a place where he was clearly unwanted?
Also, to set the record straight, Heeseung needed to make it perfectly clear (to himself, too, because this was clearly confusing for him and everybody around him) that he was not into you.
Probably.
Sure, he felt a smidge of fondness because you two had gotten into life-threatening situations before (all your fault, by the way), so there was probably some semblance of friendship that was only due to the fact that shared trauma often brought people together. But that was all it was. Heeseung’s feelings did not extend into anything remotely romantic; he even shuddered at the very thought.
That was right. He was your friend, and that was all he wanted to be. Heeseung most definitely did not think about anything like holding your hand, or plucking flowers to braid into your hair, or kissing you in hidden corners of the castle. That would be ridiculous and completely unlike him.
And then you really did walk past him and Jongseong, so Heeseung took it upon himself to punch his friend’s shoulder hard and burst into forced laughter. He tried extremely hard to convince himself that this was a very normal thing to do, but soon after the act, he wanted to lay on the floor of the Owlery until the owls collectively decided to fly his body out somewhere far away—hopefully another country.
“Idiot, I’m the one who’s supposed to laugh,” Jongseong reminded him once you were out of sight. (You did not pay attention to his charade, Heeseung was sad to note.) With a scoff, he added, “You should probably hit the books ‘cause acting’s clearly not up your alley.”
Heeseung let out a retired sigh and stood up from the stone bench they had been sitting on. “I’m going to Potions.”
“Oh, you attend class now? Shocking.”
“I prefer not spending my evenings in detention.”
“Alright. I’ll update you later on the Jake-and-Y/N show.”
“You do that, and I’ll show you how good I’ve gotten at the hair loss curse,” he spat. “I’d start investing in some hats.”
“Is that why Sunghoon’s missing half an eyebrow?”
Heeseung didn’t answer. Honestly, Sunghoon’s predicament had nothing to do with him, but he left it up to Jongseong’s imagination for the sake of intimidation.
As he stormed away (well, more of a brisk walk; Heeseung wasn’t one to storm), he realized that his friends had all sorts of misconceptions about him. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Jongseong would possibly think he was concerned about you and Jake Sim. Sure, he spent a good portion of the morning glaring daggers at Jake Sim, but there was no way that meant Heeseung was that concerned about the Hufflepuff.
What was there to be concerned about, anyway? Heeseung was the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, scored five O.W.L.s last year, and he was the top duelist at Hogwarts. Jake Sim was just another pretty boy who Heeseung could crush under the sole of his shoe if he wanted to.
His mind wandered to thoughts of you and Jake Sim walking back to the Hufflepuff common room together. Your melodic laugh echoing through the halls because of a joke he told; your fingers entwined with his as he carried your books for you; and your eyes practically glowing with admiration as you watched him intently.
The thought made Heeseung sick to his stomach. Not because he liked you or anything disgusting like that, but because Jake Sim didn’t deserve to receive that much attention—not even in a hypothetical scenario that played out in Heeseung’s wild, almost sadistic imagination.
One thought comforted him, though: You had Potions with Heeseung, meaning you had to pry yourself from Jake’s side to attend Slughorn’s class.
As he was about to approach the classroom door, Heeseung realized he had forgotten his Potions textbook. He debated whether to go in without it or run to his dormitory to fetch it, and he eventually went with the latter to avoid being clueless if today required brewing a potion. This resulted in him being about ten minutes late to class, which he decided was your fault somehow.
Immediately upon entering the room, the pungent scent of lavender filled his nostrils, and it was all he could smell. He later recognized that there were a few other smells mixed in—the smell of butterbeer and the smell of fresh ink. The lavender, however, was so intense that it overwhelmed his senses.
It smelled like you.
Before Heeseung was about to blurt out and ask why you doused the entire classroom in your perfume, Professor Slughorn turned to look at him with brows raised in pleasant surprise.
“Ah, Mr. Lee,” he greeted. “You’re early today.”
He was ten minutes late.
“Uh, just forgot my textbook,” he said, holding up the Potions textbook he walked several, brutal flights of stairs to retrieve.
“If you’re ready to join us, I was just going over Amortentia.”
If Heeseung’s memory served him correctly, that was either the potion that boosted one’s memory or the potion that induced laughter. He hadn’t exactly been doing his reading over the summer, which was probably not an intelligent decision on his part considering he was in N.E.W.T. level Potions.
Either way, he was a little too preoccupied mentally replaying how his eyes met yours briefly. Heeseung walked over to stand next to you—for research purposes, of course—because he needed to know if you had really drenched yourself in lavender perfume, or if he had just gone crazy.
He nudged you with his elbow and muttered, “You reek.”
Okay, that was definitely not a chivalrous way of putting it.
“Excuse me?” Your unnaturally high-pitched voice was hardly a whisper, but Heeseung could detect… panic?
“No, I mean your perfume,” he corrected quickly. “It’s everywhere.”
“Is it that strong?” You lifted your sleeve to sniff at it.
“Yeah? It’s—”
“—the most powerful love potion known to wizardkind,” Heeseung heard Slughorn say as he redirected his focus to the actual lecture. “Amortentia’s said to smell different to each person, according to what attracts them.”
So it turned out that his memory didn’t serve him correctly at all.
Heeseung had his fair share of near-death experiences—probably a few more than the average Hogwarts student.
Never had he wanted so badly to combust into flames on the spot like a phoenix. Except he didn’t want to rise from the ashes; he was perfectly content with staying dead and buried without ever having to relive the last couple minutes of his life, which he was sure would scar him forever.
Immediately, Heeseung stopped focusing on Slughorn’s lecture to conjure up some lame excuse in his head. Maybe he could tell everyone that his Muggle-born father owned a lavender farm back in the day, thus his love for lavender scents bloomed. But, Merlin’s beard, that didn’t even make sense! Just because he loved the smell of lavender didn’t mean he was in love with it. The smell was always attached to the person—the very object of his desires.
And, of course, it all pointed back to you.
Heeseung should not have had the realization that he was in love with you in the middle of Potions, of all classes. Astronomy? Sure. He thought it would be romantic to come to terms with his feelings whilst observing the celestial bodies in the sky. Divination? Even better. Gazing into a crystal ball for answers made complete sense.
But Potions? Seriously? This was probably the least romantic place in Hogwarts aside from the haunted bathroom in the South Wing.
No, on second thought, Heeseung saw some potential in the haunted bathroom. Something about the complete isolation of the facility made it all the more exciting.
Potions, on the other hand, was simply downright dreadful.
“Amortentia, as you all know, is extremely dangerous. I only have it out here for educational purposes, so do not even think about touching that cauldron,” Slughorn warned. “Instead, for today’s lesson, I want you all to partner up and brew something… more lighthearted—say, Elixir for Inducing Euphoria. You can find it in your Potions books in chapter eight.”
After his lecture, Slughorn made everyone write down what Amortentia smelled like for them, warning his class about the dangers of the love potion being slipped into someone’s food or drink. Heeseung hastily wrote his down on a scrap of parchment before pocketing it where he would surely forget it existed.
He had been hoping Potion-making was going to be individual work today. He despised partner work, especially when that meant Heeseung would potentially be working with you, which didn’t prove too successful for his heart or his grades.
More importantly, Heeseung did not, by any means, want to work alongside you after accidentally admitting that the Amortentia smelled like lavender to him.
Not to mention you were atrocious when it came to Potions. Heeseung needed more than two hands to count all the times your cauldron blew up in your face this year. Even when Heeseung took the reins and stirred the ingredients himself, you would somehow manage to expertly worsen the situation.
Thankfully, Kim Sunoo also took Potions, so as soon as Heeseung spotted the Slytherin, he grabbed his robes by the nape.
“You’re working with me.”
It came off more as an order than a request, but Heeseung needed to be firm to emphasize the gravity of the situation he was in. What if he died working with you? Did Sunoo want him dead?
“No way,” Sunoo refused. “I already told Sohee I’d work with him. Plus, you never bring the right ingredients.”
Well, that was that; Sunoo hated Heeseung and wanted him dead.
“Are you serious? Sohee?” Heeseung asked, acting as if Sohee wasn’t one of the top students in Potions. “You’re turning your best friend down?”
“No, I’m turning you down.”
“Okay, ouch.”
“Sunoo, d’you have any Sopophorous beans on you?” Lee Sohee asked as he approached the two, reading off his Potions book. “I have Worm—oh, hey, Heeseung!”
With little enthusiasm, he greeted, “Hi, Sohee.”
“Heeseung needs a partner,” Sunoo explained.
“Oh, really?” Before Heeseung could stop him, Sohee turned his head and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Y/N! Heeseung needs a partner, too!”
“Sohee!” Heeseung hissed, suddenly wishing Sohee’s head was a Quaffle he could launch into oblivion. He lowered his voice to mutter, “Have you considered that maybe I’m asking Sunoo because I don’t wanna partner with Y/N?”
He shrugged in response. “How was I supposed to know that?”
Oh, this was horrible. Not only did Sunoo hate Heeseung and want him dead, but Sohee had joined in on the cause, too. They were both clearly plotting something wicked against him.
But now he had no other choice. It wasn’t like he could turn you down after Sohee had blatantly lied about Heeseung’s intentions. This was the worst outcome yet; he was probably going to fail Potions because of you, and then he would have to write a make-up paper on the stupid elixir they were supposed to brew.
“No one wants to partner with me!” you complained, shoulders sagging and lips forming a pout when you walked over to the Slytherin. “I can always count on you, though, Hee.”
Heeseung couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
No one wanted to partner with you? What had the wizarding world come to? Where was the comradery?
He was almost infuriated by how spineless the rest of his classmates were. Sure, Heeseung was complaining about working with you seconds prior, but you said it yourself: you could always count on him. At the end of the day, failing today’s class and writing a make-up paper was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Heeseung would always extend a helpful hand to those who needed it, or someone he was potentially crushing on.
Get a grip, Heeseung, he scolded himself. You do not have a crush on her. She’s just a good friend, that’s all. A perfectly normal, platonic friend of yours who gets on your nerves sometimes… and smells rather nice… and sort of looks extremely pretty when she has her hair tied up… and—
Okay, this was getting ridiculous.
“Yeah,” he got out in an embarrassingly choked voice. “You were my first choice, anyway—well, after Sunoo turned me down.”
There often came a time when a man had to put himself through tough situations to overcome adversity. As Heeseung approached their table, his shiny cauldron gleaming under the lamp light, he knew exactly what he needed to do.
Make sure you didn’t lay a finger on his bloody cauldron.
Sunoo and Sohee were working at the same table, standing at the bench across from them. Heeseung quickly sifted through his bag, and, as Sunoo predicted, he didn’t bring any of the ingredients necessary for the elixir. What the hell was he going to do with Fluxweed and rose oil?
“I have porcupine quills,” you said, pulling a glass jar out of your bag.
“Uh, okay, so I need you to get a Shrivelfig and Wormwood from Slughorn’s closet,” he instructed you, giving you a thumbs-up once you nodded. “I’m gonna beg Sunoo for his Sopophorous beans.”
After you walked off, Heeseung leaned over the table and muttered, “Sunoo, please give me some of your beans.”
“No,” the prick replied.
“Please,” Heeseung begged. “Eunseok’s table took the last of them from Slughorn’s closet.”
“Maybe, but I want something in return.”
“What do you want?”
A sly grin spread across Kim Sunoo’s face. “Tell me what the Amortentia smelled like for you.”
Honestly, Heeseung was perfectly content with writing another twenty inches to make up for a failed potion. He would even take detention, if needed. Anything to get himself out of this sick and twisted situation.
In his head, he imagined Sunoo getting what he deserved, and that was his ass getting properly kicked during Dueling Club. He envisioned Jungwon flourishing his wand and blasting Sunoo square in the gut, knocking him straight into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.
He gave his friend a reproachful look. “I wish Jungwon’s spell hit you.”
Sunoo chuckled darkly and held up his jar of Sopophorous beans, waving them teasingly in the air. This was almost too much for Heeseung, but he committed to working with you, so he couldn’t let you down while you were off getting the rest of the ingredients.
“Lavender,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “The Amortentia smelled like lavender.”
His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Hear that, Sohee? Heeseung smelled lavender. You know who else usually smells like lavender?”
At that moment, you returned with the rest of the ingredients. You showed Heeseung the jars and bottles you brought over, but he was too distracted to properly examine them. His gaze remained fixed on Sunoo, eyes burning with resentment. He prayed to Salazar that Sunoo wouldn’t slip up in front of you.
Sohee, who clearly had no idea who Sunoo was referring to, blinked slowly. “Uh, Professor Longbottom? He probably smells like it—you know, with all the time he spends in the Greenhouse.”
“Yes, Sohee, I’m in love with Professor Longbottom,” Heeseung deadpanned. “Thank you for your wonderful insight.”
You made a face. “You’re in love with who?”
“No one,” Heeseung replied quickly once Sunoo finally handed him his desired ingredients. He lit the fire under the cauldron, dropping a sprig of peppermint inside to counterbalance the possible side-effects. “Just peel the Shrivelfig and chop the porcupine quills while I stir.”
The potion-making seemed to be going smoothly for the first few steps. However, when you were chopping the porcupine quills, Heeseung’s chest leaped when he heard an ouch come from you. He forgot about his cauldron immediately and looked over to see your finger bleeding.
“What happened?” He grabbed hold of your hand, inspecting the blood oozing from your cut. “Did you slice your finger?”
“M-my hand just slipped.”
This was bad. If Heeseung didn’t disinfect and bandage the wound, then it could possibly get infected and you’d die. (Merlin’s Beard, Heeseung, it’s hardly a flesh wound, his thoughts annoyingly cut in.) He needed to get you to Madam Pomfrey before—
“Heeseung!” Sunoo yelled from over the table.
He whirled around to see that elixir had turned a deep purple hue, bubbling up to the rim. That was strange; it was supposed to be a bright yellow color by now. Considering he was handling the cauldron the entire time, nothing should have gone badly wrong. Time seemed to slow down as Heeseung speculated what in Salazar’s name he managed to screw up.
That was when he noticed the green bottle next to the cauldron—the Infusion of Wormwood he poured in earlier. Except it wasn’t Wormwood; the brown tag hanging from the neck of the bottle read Flobberworm Mucus.
Before he could curse himself for not reading the label properly beforehand, the failed elixir rose all the way to the top and shot out of the cauldron, spewing purple liquid all over their table and burning a hole through the wood. Slughorn’s head turned sharply in their direction, and he crossed the classroom to see what mess you and Heeseung had caused.
“Evanesco!” the Potions teacher shouted, making the substance vanish in an instant. Slughorn looked mostly unsurprised as he turned to face you and Heeseung, letting a retired sigh slip. “Five points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff—and twenty inches on the properties of Amortentia by next class.”
“Twenty?” you cried, nearly gasping from the shock. “But, Sir, we have so much work from our other N.E.W.T. classes already!”
“And we have the Hogsmede trip after class,” Heeseung chimed in.
And, bless his heart, Slughorn was far too kind of a soul to be too strict with either of you. He typically had high expectations for those he taught, especially the ones he sought out for his reputable ‘Slug Club,’ but he had a soft spot for his N.E.W.T. students.
“Alright then, well… you and Mr. Lee can write twenty inches together and bring it to me,” he decided in his bumbling voice.
When he walked away, Heeseung let his shoulders sag. He couldn’t believe he had to write a paper over this—and with you, no less. He should’ve known that he was cursed to stumble upon misfortune again, but, at the same time, he just couldn’t find a way to blame you. Sure, you were the one who took the wrong bottle from the Potions cabinet, but Heeseung really should’ve double-checked the label before he poured it into the cauldron.
“Oh, well,” Sunoo simpered, wearing a proud smirk, “writing about Amortentia shouldn’t be hard for you, huh?”
Heeseung demonstrated his hair loss curse on Sunoo after class.
“I might get a D on my N.E.W.T. for Potions, Hee,” you complained to him later when you both had snuck away to the lakefront to work on your remedial paper. There was a nice patch of grass that Heeseung liked to sit on and contemplate his miserable life, so he figured that he’d share the location with you. “Or maybe even a T—oh, Godric’s Heart.”
“Hey, failing with distinction would be much more impressive than just downright failing,” he tried.
“Not helping.”
“Sorry.”
Heeseung had a total of four words written on his parchment so far, which happened to be both of your first and last names. He wasn’t sure how he would get to twenty inches without delving into the smells of Amortentia, which he already figured he would need to use a personal anecdote for. He was trying his best to avoid that since it would lead to a rather awkward conversation.
However, everyone was leaving for Hogsmede shortly, so Heeseung was hoping that you would decide to set aside the rest of the paper for later.
As if the universe was rubbing Heeseung’s misery in his face, Jake Sim came strutting over in his stupid, perfect robes. (Except it was quite a normal walk; no strutting whatsoever, actually.)
“Just got out of Arithmancy?” you asked him with a gut-wrenching, brilliant smile on your face.
“Yeah, Seunghan and I were heading to Hogsmede with everyone else,” Jake answered before his gaze drifted to Heeseung. Something seemed to light up in his eyes and he started reaching into his robes. “Hey, nice game yesterday! Did you see that, uh… where did I put it…” After some rummaging through his pockets, Jake pulled out a piece of parchment which seemed to be a clipping from the school newspaper. “You made the front page!”
Heeseung peered to see a moving picture of himself laying on the Quidditch pitch, half-conscious as the Golden Snitch rested in the palm of his hand. Next to him, Sunghoon and Jungwon gave the camera a thumbs-up and feigned shock at the sight of the Seeker on the ground.
He was definitely going to be sending Riki a Howler.
“Lovely,” he replied half-heartedly, fighting down a scowl when he realized that Jake wanted him to keep the clipping. “I’ll hang it up with the rest of my collection.”
Jake laughed, even though Heeseung was dead serious. He had an archive of mortifying photographs of him that Riki had taken ever since he stepped onto Hogwarts grounds. Collecting them was intentional, of course; Heeseung needed evidence for the Wizangamot if he planned to sue Nishimura Riki for defamation one day. If Heeseung had known how much of a nuisance the Gryffindor would be, he would’ve plotted for the kid to be sent back home right after his Sorting Ceremony.
“We have a remedial paper to write,” you told Jake glumly, “so I don’t think we’ll be going to Hogsmede today.”
Jake shrugged. “I’ll see you in the common room later, then.”
“Bye-bye.”
Once Jake walked off to find his friend, Heeseung shot you a dark look. There might have been something warm and soupy in his chest whenever he even looked in your general direction, but he wouldn’t let this slide.
“I’m not skipping the Hogsmede trip.”
“But we have to finish—”
“But Hogsmede,” he whined. “Can’t we meet in the library after and work on it?”
“I have a Transfiguration quiz I need to study for.” You sounded distressed for a moment, but you quickly brightened up. “Who are you meeting in Hogsmede?”
“Uh, well, no one in particular. Just wanted to check out some stores.”
“Then how about we go together?” you suggested. “We can work on our paper in The Three Broomsticks.”
“Oh.” Heat suddenly rose to Heeseung’s cheeks, and although he desperately tried to convince himself that your proposal did not sound like a date, he couldn’t shake how excited he was to spend some one-on-one time with you. “That works for me.”
On Salazar’s name, Heeseung was going to murder Sunghoon and Jungwon in cold blood.
While you and Heeseung had gotten cozy in an empty booth, brushing shoulders as you two looked over the first paragraph you started, his two dear friends decided to show up where they were clearly unwelcome. Apparently, mouthing get the fuck out of here wasn’t sending the message across.
Sunghoon was on some long tangent about how he barely scraped by on his O.W.L.s, but Slughorn finally gave him the green light to take Alchemy. For some odd reason, Alchemy was only available as a N.E.W.T. class, so Sunghoon had been anxious the whole summer over whether his O.W.L. results would be enough.
“Didn’t you get five O.W.L.s?” Jungwon asked, bored.
“Six—A in Herbology,” Sunghoon corrected. “I hate plants.”
“Longbottom let you in with an Acceptable?” Heeseung raised his brows with mild interest, but he quickly steeled his expression. He was not entertaining their company, no. He started practicing the fine art of Legilimency to send a message to Sunghoon: go away, go away, go away, go away.
“He said he was especially impressed that I got into his N.E.W.T. class.”
“Oh, yeah,” you spoke up, pointing at Sunghoon. “Yizhuo told me she had no idea you were in her class until you showed up for exams.”
“I also didn’t realize she was in my class until you mentioned that.”
“How’d you even pass?” Heeseung asked.
“No clue,” Sunghoon replied honestly. “The exam was fine, but I thought the practical would be the end for me. Turns out I’m a natural. They even clapped after I ripped the leaves off a Venomous Tentacula. Like, big deal, it’s a plant.”
Everyone at the table froze. Heeseung practically jumped seconds later, hitting his leg against the underside of the table. He had long abandoned his goal of kicking Sunghoon and Jungwon out of The Three Broomsticks. You choked on your butterbeer, wiping some of the foam off your chin. Jungwon’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. Heeseung’s knee hit the underside of the table, suppressing a groan. There was a shuffle below.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you ducking under the table for a moment. However, he was too astounded by Sunghoon’s story to divert the topic.
Heeseung set his butterbeer down and asked, “You just walked over and used your bare hands?”
“I suppose not showing up to class has its upsides,” Jungwon said. “Ignorance is bliss.”
“Sunghoon, do you even know what a Venomous Tentacula does?” you asked.
“What? Photosynthesis?”
“Well, other than the snapping jaws that can either stun or kill you, and the vines reaching out to strangle you when you’re least expecting it,” Jungwon started (which didn't sound like a very pleasant start, to be honest), “there's also the venom that shoots out from its sprouts—oh, and the thorns that can kill you if you prick your finger.”
Sunghoon looked disturbed before muttering to Heeseung, “And they call Hogwarts the safest school on Earth. What a joke.”
You excused yourself shortly after the conversation came to an end, claiming that you spotted a friend a few tables over. Heeseung pretended to listen to Sunghoon and Jungwon trying to guess how old Professor Binns was, but really he was keeping an eye on you. Minjeong was whispering something to you, paused when you wrapped your arms around her, and then turned her neck to say something with sudden enthusiasm.
Heeseung wondered how it would feel if he was sitting in that seat instead of Kim Minjeong, if your arms were draped around his shoulders like that. He thought of your hair falling into his face, how he’d brush it away and turn his head to kiss you—
Dangerous waters, he warned himself. Do not go there.
“Every time I ask him—and, mind you, it was only a couple of times—he falls asleep before he can even give me an answer!” Sunghoon complained, bringing Heeseung’s attention back to the topic of the ancient History of Magic professor. “Heeseung, has he ever told your class how old he is?”
“Couple hundred years probably,” he answered. “Can you guys leave now?”
They gawked at him, offended.
Now Heeseung had realized he had driven himself into a corner. He couldn’t tell them the real reason why he wanted them to leave. If his friends found out that he wanted to spend time with you alone, then they would misconstrue the situation into something involving feelings—something which Lee Heeseung might have had but refused to admit out loud or to himself.
“You two have been distracting us from finishing our paper,” he said instead, pointing at their unfinished essay. “Twenty inches! And we hardly have two.”
Jungwon, who saw right through him, asked, “You just wanna spend time with Y/N, don’t you?”
Heeseung coughed loudly, as if that would cover up whatever the Slytherin just said. “What?”
“It’s so obvious,” Sunghoon said. “Would we really be your best friends if we couldn’t pick up on who you’re into?”
“I am not into—” Heeseung paused to weigh his words. His recent revelation brought him to the point of no return; he couldn’t just lie about how he felt now. He threw an anxious look over his shoulder to make sure you were still preoccupied with Minjeong. “We have a paper to write.”
Sunghoon threw his head back to laugh. “See? You can’t even deny it.”
“It doesn’t even matter; she’s into Jake.”
They went silent. Glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes.
“Jake Sim?” Jungwon asked. “And Y/N?”
“Yes.”
“Jake Sim… and Y/N.”
“Yes,” Heeseung repeated with impatience seeping past his teeth.
“What makes you think she’s into Jake?”
“Uh…” Heeseung was now irritated that he was being put on the spot because nothing was coming to mind. He just thought of you and Jake laughing together in the courtyard and jealousy wrapped tight around his heart. “I saw them together.”
“I saw you in Filch’s office the other day,” Sunghoon said. “Are you two a thing?”
Heeseung scowled at him, but before he could fire back at his friend, Jungwon said, “Just tell us you want us to leave so you can spend time with Y/N, and we’ll go.” A sly grin spread across his face, and he scarily resembled Kim Sunoo at that very moment. “You should probably make up your mind before she gets back.”
Struggling for a way out of this situation, Heeseung gave them both dirty looks. He had no choice but to give Jungwon and Sunghoon what they wanted. You were going to wrap your conversation up with Minjeong any minute now, so he had to act now before his friends terrorized him for the rest of their Hogsmede trip.
“Fine,” he said sharply. “I wanna spend time with Y/N alone, so leave.”
Right on command, the two boys made a big scene about having to leave, throwing their hands up in exasperation and getting to their feet slowly. Sunghoon shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as if it was a pain for them to be ordered around. Heeseung sank back into his seat in embarrassment.
“Alright, alright, we’ll go,” Sunghoon drawled, “but you better tell us all the details after.”
Heeseung gave them his word, even though he was sure the update would simply be finishing their essay. Once Jungwon and Sunghoon strode out of the pub, he turned his gaze back to Minjeong’s table. For a moment, he just watched how your hair shone under the warm lighting. Heeseung had to avert his eyes when you turned around again to walk back to his table. There was a strange look on your face, like you were trying to work through a puzzle in your head.
“Where’d the others go?”
For the entirety of their Hogsmede excursion, Heeseung had been trying his hardest not to look at you when you were so close to him. Now, though, with his friends gone, it was just you and him sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder.
He realized he was staring at your lips instead of answering your question. He licked his lips involuntarily and looked away.
“Uh, went to check out some stores, I think,” he lied. “Should we get back to work?”
Slightly distracted, you replied, “Yes, let’s.”
The remedial paper was finally at an impressive twenty inches by the time you and Heeseung thought it would be best to start walking back to the school.
There weren’t many students around anymore as most people didn’t want to miss dinner in the Great Hall. Heeseung felt like something was off. You were focused on the paper the entire time, hardly engaging in any side conversation or recalling some fun memory. When you two ran out of things to write about Amortentia and stumbled upon the topic of describing its scent, Heeseung managed to steer away from writing about how the potion smelled for him. Instead, you two went for a more informational route with zero personal anecdotes.
The walk back to the castle was long, but Heeseung really hadn’t expected you to bring up the topic of Amortentia again. He thought hours of writing a paper on the potion would put you off of it for a long period of time.
“So, you remember Slughorn showing us the love potion in class, right?” you started timidly while the two of you were crossing a bridge in Hogsmede. You didn’t even let Heeseung get to the trail to Hogwarts before you started your interrogation. “What’d it smell like for you?”
Fuck.
Why was everyone so interested in what the Amortentia smelled like for him? It wasn’t supposed to be some groundbreaking piece of information, and it wasn’t a big deal that it smelled like your signature scent! There were far more interesting things to converse about, like how nicely the leaves were arranged on the trees, or how interesting of a shade the sky was.
But there was no way for him to avoid this question—not when you were staring at him so adamantly—so he resorted to lying. A white lie never hurt anyone, after all. Or, well, anyone important.
“Like… books,” he answered, trying to keep his voice as level as possible.
“Maybe you and the librarian are meant to be,” you teased.
“I guess sneaking into the restricted section makes the heart grow fond.”
You laughed, and, Merlin’s beard, what a melody. Heeseung could listen to your voice all day. Preferably on a warm day while he was stretched out on some grass with your head on his lap, or maybe he’d like to be laying on your lap. Either way, he would be perfectly content just listening to you talk his ear off until—
“Y’know, that’s funny ‘cause… well, you wrote lavender here,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek and holding the very scrap of parchment that was supposed to be tucked away in Heeseung’s pocket.
Suddenly, he felt the urge to shut himself in the Slytherin common room and never hear you speak to him again.
In the couple of seconds he was malfunctioning for, many thoughts raced through Heeseung’s head.
First, he wondered if there was still time left to request a Ministry-issued Time-Turner under the guise that he would use it for his classes. Instead, its intended purpose would be to reverse time until Heeseung had somehow gotten himself out of this situation or destroyed that stupid piece of parchment.
The second revelation that struck him was that he must have dropped the paper in The Three Broomsticks. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he hit his knee under the table. There was a moment when he noticed you picking something up from the floor, but he hadn’t dwelled on it, expecting it to have just been a napkin.
Lastly, he had gone extremely still—to the point of halting in his tracks and staring at you, wide-eyed. His body had completely seized up to the point where he almost thought he was shaking. Shaking—but he was shaking. He was shaking all over. Or maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t tell. Heeseung clenched a fist to make sure he had control over his body.
“Heeseung?”
You stopped walking, too, looking at him curiously. For a moment, it looked like you were going to apologize for reading what he wrote down, but you looked down at it again.
“Did the love potion smell like lavender?” you asked in a soft voice. Looking visibly flustered, you said in a rush, “I’m just asking because Minjeong said I always, uh… smell like lavender, and I just thought…”
He needed to run. He needed to get out of here. He needed to disappear.
Heeseung felt like his blood was rushing through his ears, pumping so loud that he couldn’t hear anything but his heartbeat for a moment. You were saying something, but he couldn’t even make out the words your lips framed. The world had slowed down, and Heeseung wasn’t quite sure if his feet were planted firmly on the ground.
He would have rather been anywhere else—maybe at Sunghoon’s house where his mother’s baked goods wafted from her kitchen window. He could envision the meadow right behind their house and how he spent the summer in the grass, practicing Quidditch with Sunghoon and his little sister. Jongseong would arrive days later to complain about his O.W.L.s for three hours straight until Sunghoon and Heeseung felt the life oozing out of their bodies.
But here, with your eyes sparkling with determination, Heeseung felt like he was about to melt into a puddle. He was consumed with the ungodly urge to grab ahold of you and kiss you until his blood felt like electricity in his veins. Yes, he needed to be anywhere but here—anywhere where his feelings weren’t worn on his sleeve for the world to see.
You started again, “Heeseung—”
Before you could get anything else out, Heeseung, who was overcome with the will to escape, felt something pulling him from behind. In a flash, he was whisked out of thin air with a tug behind his navel, leaving you gobsmacked and stranded in Hogsmede.
He felt like he was being pushed through a thin vortex, squeezed by the fabric of reality tearing and reshaping itself around him. It took him some gasping breaths to get lungfuls of air into his body, but once he could breathe right again, he realized he was definitely not in Hogsmede.
“Excuse me?” Heeseung asked a nearby townsperson who was walking past him. He must have looked ridiculous in his Hogwarts robes, body awkwardly sprawled over two bales of hay. “Where am I?”
“Feldcroft,” the wizard answered.
He Apparated to Sunghoon’s hometown.
Not only did Heeseung spend thirty minutes trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, but he was late for dinner. You were long gone, of course, but it seemed like you hadn’t exactly abandoned Heeseung. When he arrived on school grounds, Slughorn and McGonagall were waiting for him at the gate. This was definitely going to earn him a detention or two.
Apparently, you ran back to school to tell McGonagall about what happened. The headmistress also noted that you were sobbing because you were convinced that it was your fault somehow. You happened to be under the belief that Heeseung wouldn’t know how to get back, which he couldn’t argue with because he considered himself lucky to Apparate back without splinching himself.
After receiving a lecture from both professors about the dangers of Apparating unsupervised, Heeseung received two punishments: one week of detention and he wasn’t allowed to go on the next Hogsmede trip. However, he also received a pat on the back from Slughorn and a congratulations from McGonagall for a successful Apparition.
When he recounted the story to Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo in the common room the following morning, they were howling with laughter. He had to pause approximately four times for them to catch their breaths.
“It’s not that funny,” Heeseung deadpanned.
Sunoo, who was wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, replied, “It’s kinda funny.”
Sunoo was also missing several patches of hair, which Heeseung generously didn’t point out.
“Did my mom give you anything to bring back?” Sunghoon inquired. “I’ve been craving her tarts.”
“I didn’t exactly have time to drop by your mom’s and pick up some tarts! I was trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, if that wasn’t already clear!”
“On the bright side,” Jungwon said, “you’ll probably pass your Apparition exam now. Sunghoon lost half an eyebrow while he was practicing yesterday.”
Sunghoon, with one and a half eyebrows, grimaced.
“So, you left Y/N hanging and she had to walk back alone?” Sunoo asked, tutting lightly as he shook his head. “Now you stand no chance of asking her out.”
Heeseung tried to cover up how taken aback he was by coughing into his arm, expertly hiding his reddening cheeks from his friends. “It’s not like that.”
“Uh-huh,” Jungwon said. “So, you’d be perfectly fine with Y/N going out with Jake?”
Heeseung’s face turned sour as he turned to look at the Slytherin. “She’s going out with who?”
“It’s a hypothetical question.”
“Well… who she goes out with is none of my business.”
Sunghoon barked out a laugh. “Then why’d you get so worked up?”
“I’m not getting worked up,” Heeseung replied firmly, huffing as he got to his feet. “I simply don’t think she and Jake Sim are compatible, but my opinion’s got nothing to do with her.”
“Yeah?” A ghost of a smirk was plastered across Sunoo’s face. “Why don’t you think they’re compatible?”
There was a fire in the center of Heeseung’s chest, blazing and scorching his heart. He felt as if he would pass out from the immense pressure in his chest, but then his body felt so hot that everything seemed to slip away. He thought of you and Jake again, thinking about how you smiled up at him in a way Heeseung had never seen you smile at him.
The fire in his chest raged.
“Because I exist,” he answered loudly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to attend.”
Whether they were awestruck or dumbfounded, Heeseung’s friends watched him leave the common room with crooked grins on their faces. He was extremely satisfied that he managed to get his two cents in without his voice cracking or wavering.
After Sunghoon was left in the common room with Sunoo and Jungwon, he slumped back in his seat and asked, “Since when did he go to class?”
Defense Against the Dark Arts was Heeseung’s favorite class. Not because he particularly enjoyed dueling or any violence of the sort, but because Professor Weasley was the only teacher who didn’t assign papers every other day. He preferred a more hands-on teaching method, which usually involved partnering up and practicing spells on fellow classmates.
Plus, when Heeseung was in moods like these—moods where he felt like he was going to burst into flames much like a phoenix would—he looked forward to blasting someone across the room. Someone preferably like Jung Sungchan, who didn’t take it personally when he conjured columns of fire in rapid succession.
Because he was so hot with unexplained anger and unrestrained emotion, Heeseung had to set the record straight (evidently for himself, too) that he most definitely harbored romantic feelings for you.
Admittedly, this was clear after he smelled the Amortentia, but Heseung refused to allow Potions to be the class that made him aware that he was in love. He could almost envision Slughorn taking credit for his future wedding, and the very thought made him shudder.
The fire in Heeseung’s chest grew into more of a wildfire tearing through his body once he saw Jake Sim in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
He completely forgot that Jake took this class, too. The cherry on top was that Jake and Seunghan decided to sit at the desk right behind Heeseung and Sungchan, so he could hardly focus on Sungchan rattling on about Trelawny giving him detention when he was trying his hardest to eavesdrop on Jake’s conversation.
Right when Heeseung heard Jake talking about something potentially dark and dangerous (buying a Pygmy Puff), Professor Weasley raised his wand to signal that he was starting class.
He started discussing familial curses, which Heeseung found especially interesting because he had almost considered a career path as a Curse-Breaker. It was a dangerous line of work, according to Professor Weasley, who used to be one himself before the second wizarding war, but Heeseung thought it was an honorable job to help remove dangerous curses.
Professor Weasley decided to stray from his usual ‘partner up with the person next to you’ and instead asked everyone to practice the Shield Charm with another student who was sitting around them. This, in turn, made Heeseung’s heart drop to his stomach.
If Sungchan wasn’t an option, then Heeseung was hoping he could partner with Seunghan. He quite liked the Hufflepuff, despite him being friends with the public enemy named Jake Sim. Seunghan had always been fun to talk to, and they became closer in fifth year when they were both sent to the infirmary and had beds next to each other. Madam Pomfrey was eventually tired of the two boys practicing jinxes on each other.
Sungchan and Seunghan partnered up almost immediately, and then the girl sitting in front of Heeseung had run off to her friend as soon as the words slipped from Professor Weasley’s mouth. There was no one else for him to turn to—no one but Jake.
“Do you have a partner yet?” Jake asked shyly, and Heeseung had to fight down a bitter retort; obviously he didn’t have a partner, or he would’ve gotten up by now. “We can practice together, if you want.”
Heeseung reluctantly got to his feet. “Sure.”
They were an odd pairing, for sure. Heeseung couldn’t help but feel awkward around Jake, and it seemed as if Jake felt the same way, even though he did his best to be overly-friendly.
Jake decided to be the one defending himself first, so Heeseung was graced with the opportunity to cast offensive spells at him all he wanted. He was having far too much fun casting Expelliarmus and Stupefy at Jake and watching the Hufflepuff draw his wand up just in time to shield himself.
“You’re really good at this!” Jake said, eyes wide with what Heeseung assumed was fear. “Do you duel often?”
“Not really,” he answered. “I just have good aim.”
“Quidditch.” He made the connection quickly with a far too happy look on his face. “I’ve seen you fly. You’re really good.”
Quit playing nice! Heeseung was yelling at him in his head. It was proving quite difficult to viciously attack the Hufflepuff while receiving compliments in return.
“Yeah?” Heeseung gritted his teeth. “Do you watch Y/N—Stupefy!—play?”
“Y/N?” Jake looked confused for a moment, but his smile never faltered. “Yeah, of course! I always support Hufflepuff.”
Oh, right. They were in the same house. Logically, this was where Heeseung should’ve backed off, but jealousy seized him by the throat and made his head go funny.
He sent another streak of orange light flying in Jake’s direction, aiming right for his perfect hair. Jake deflected it.
“Anyway,” Jake continued as he started to get the hang of performing wandless magic, “you guys are playing against Gryffindor next, right? I really think Slytherin’s gonna win. I mean, you guys have such a strong team, and…”
As he kept droning on about how great the Slytherin Quidditch team was, Heeseung couldn't help but feel a bit confused. He was here to intimidate the Hufflepuff, but now he felt like he was at some sort of meet and greet. Why was Jake so bent on praising the Slytherin team? Heeseung assumed that the whole incentive for Quidditch games was for house pride, but Jake seemed to be taking it way too seriously.
Come to think of it, Heeseung did find it strange that Jake had that defamatory newspaper clipping of Heeseung injured on the ground. Why would he specifically go looking for an article of the Slytherin team’s victory?
Heeseung lowered his wand when he heard a yelp to his right. Hong Seunghan had his wand raised over his head, a nearly-invisible shield circling his body that Heeseung could vaguely make out under the lamp light.
“Watch it! This isn’t target practice, Heeseung!” Seunghan cried, looking absolutely distressed as he hastily adjusted his yellow-trimmed robes.
Heeseung’s Stunning Spell would’ve hit Seunghan if he hadn’t reacted in time. On one hand, he felt bad; on the other hand, he really thought Seunghan should’ve been patting himself on the back for his quick reaction time instead.
“My bad,” Heeseung mumbled. So much for his so-called good aim.
“And you,” Seunghan said—to Jake, this time, “stop distracting him with all your Quidditch talk!”
Yeah, you tell him, Seunghan, thought Heeseung, who actually quite enjoyed talking about Quidditch.
To his surprise, Jake’s face started to flush pink. “I-I’m not trying to distract him or anything… I was just making conversation.”
Seunghan threw him a lazy smirk before turning back to Heeseung and rolling his eyes playfully. “Put him out of his misery and set him up with your friend, will you?”
“What?” Heeseung couldn’t stop himself from fuming at Seunghan’s words. The fire in his chest ignited once more, blazing with the heat of a thousand suns.
Sungchan, who had been waiting patiently to attack Seunghan, rubbed the back of his neck. “Er—can we get back to—”
“Seunghan, drop it already,” Jake pleaded, his voice growing smaller and smaller. “It’s not happening.”
Seunghan shrugged and returned to blocking Sungchan’s attacks. The two of them seemed to be having fun with the exercise, at least. Heeseung and Jake were a disaster; Heeseung was far too vexed to think straight, and Jake was as bashful as a first year.
“You can ask her yourself, you know,” Heeseung said coldly, shooting a jet of red light in Jake’s direction. Jake barely managed to cast his shield in time to deflect Heeseung’s spell.
“I can’t,” Jake replied, all meek and timid again, which made Heeseung’s blood boil.
He saw how comfortable Jake was around you, so why was he acting like this now? He was comfortable enough to walk up to you while you were with another guy; he was comfortable enough to keep eye contact while you smiled so radiantly at him; and he was comfortable enough to ask you to go to Hogsmede with him, so why was this such a big deal?
Heeseung felt sick to his stomach. He wanted this class to be over so that he could go to his dormitory and wallow in his miserable state.
Jake sighed wistfully. “She probably has no idea I even exist.”
Heeseung blanked.
He tossed around Jake’s words in his head a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Heeseung perfectly understood being shy around a crush, but wasn’t this a bit much? From what he had observed, you most definitely knew of Jake’s existence.
Still confused, Heeseung replied, “I’m pretty sure she does.”
“Really?” Jake’s voice was louder, more hopeful. “She does? I mean, I guess she has to know I exist since we’re in the same class and all, but has she… has she ever mentioned me?”
Heeseung wondered if he should just stun Jake and leave class early.
Deciding against it for the sake of not receiving another week of detention, he answered, “Well, yeah, a couple of times.”
“Really? What did she say?”
“Uh…” Heeseung scratched his head as he tried to remember. “Something about telling you how I set off Dungbombs in Filch’s office.”
It was Jake’s turn to look confused.
“That was Y/N,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Wait, did you think I was talking about Y/N this whole time?”
Heeseung had to duck this time when his spell rebounded off of Jake’s shield and went flying in his direction. He stood up straight again, this time with his eyebrows furrowed and his ears bright red from realizing that he was about to embarrass himself yet again.
“You’re not?” he asked.
“No!”
“Then who are you talking about?”
“M-Minjeong,” Jake stammered out. “Kim Minjeong.”
Heeseung stared at him. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if this was reality; this could have all been some hyper-realistic dream—one of those absurd ones that hardly made sense but left him gasping for air when he woke up.
But Heeseung’s feet were planted firmly on the ground and he had all ten of his fingers, so this couldn’t be a dream. Yet, when he drew in a shuddering breath, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was very wrong about this whole thing. Had he really been wrong about Jake Sim this entire time?
Also Minjeong? When he was friends with you? Heeseung wasn’t one to judge people’s tastes, but he’d swim oceans for you yet hardly cross a puddle for Minjeong. (Perhaps that was just because he resented the Slytherin girl for always making fun of his Quidditch screw-ups.)
So that was why Jake had been overly-invested in the Slytherin team. He wasn’t a Quidditch-fanatic whose house pride flew out the window; he was just harboring a crush this whole time! Heeseung was so relieved that the inferno in his chest had quelled.
In fact, he was so relieved that he let out a shaky laugh without having half the mind to hold it in. Jake must have thought Heeseung was making fun of his crush, but Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh and laugh about how pathetic he had been this whole time. He had lost sleep over Jake Sim, only for him to like someone completely different.
How ridiculous.
Heeseung crossed the distance between them and patted him firmly on the back, taking the Hufflepuff by surprise. “Minjeong, huh? I’ll introduce you.”
Jake’s eyes shone. “You will?”
“Of course I will. Now, tell me,” Heeseung started, his voice taking on a serious edge as he slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders, “where did you get your robes?”
It was such a lovely day outside; the grass was greener, the skies were bluer, and there wasn’t a single cloud in sight—perfect weather to fly. Heeseung could even hear the birds singing as he strode down the hallway, trying very, very hard to keep himself from skipping.
He wasn’t even trying to eavesdrop, but he picked up on the conversation a couple of fifth years were having nearby.
"—heard they both had to go to the infirmary!” one of them whispered to the other. “It was that bad!”
“Over a silly game?” The other girl, who Heeseung named Girl Two in his head, scoffed. “I’ll never understand Quidditch.”
Girl One shook her head. “Not over the game. It was over Lee Heeseung.”
Heeseung, who was slowly realizing that he was the Lee Heeseung they were gossiping about, suddenly felt very engaged in this conversation that he wasn’t part of. His guilty pleasure happened to be listening in on all of the scandalous happenings at Hogwarts. For him to be indirectly involved was even more exciting.
“Lee Heeseung?” Girl Two frowned. “Why would Y/N pick a fight over Lee Heeseung?”
He nearly tripped over his own feet. Heeseung had to scurry behind a pillar before anyone saw him blushing like a madman, but now he was worried about how strange it looked for him to be spying on a couple of fifth years from behind a pillar.
Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. You fought someone? And you were in the infirmary? His sick happiness was quickly replaced with dreadful worry.
(But he also wasn’t too worried; you could clearly handle your own.)
“No clue,” Girl One said. “I suppose they’re dating.”
Heeseung couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping his lips. He clamped a hand over his mouth as soon as it slipped out, and Girl One and Girl Two looked around suspiciously.
“Who was that?” Girl Two asked sharply.
“Must be that Ravenclaw girl,” Girl One replied bitterly, taking her wand out of her robes.
Heeseung had no idea who ‘that Ravenclaw girl’ was referring to, but he knew that he was no longer safe in their vicinity. After casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he fled the scene immediately, only removing the charm once he was safely down the hall.
He hadn’t even realized his heart was racing faster than it ever had in his life until he found himself sprinting in the direction of the infirmary.
“Mr. Lee, no running in the halls!” Professor Longbottom cried over his shoulder, gripping the pot of a Mandrake tightly. “That’ll be five points from—oh, forget it.”
Madam Pomfrey looked unsurprised to see Heeseung walking in, all sweaty and panting. She simply pointed in the direction of where your bed was and walked off to tend to some second year who, judging by the twigs in his hair, decided to test his luck with the Whomping Willow.
You were sulking in bed, turned on your side so that your back was facing Heeseung. It looked like you were mostly unscathed, but when Heeseung rounded the corner of your bed, all he could see was red when he noticed the cut on your lip and gash on your cheek.
“Heeseung!” you gasped, sitting up straight so that you could swing your legs off the bed. “How’d you know—”
“Who did this?” he asked angrily, drawing out his wand and looking around the infirmary. He remembered Girl One saying that both parties were sent to the infirmary, so they must have still been around. “Who hurt you?”
“It’s not that bad, I just—”
“Not that bad?” he repeated louder. “You’re hurt!”
“It’s not that bad,” you said again, quieter. You held onto Heeseung’s bicep with gentle hands, which happened to immediately calm him down. “Sit.”
Heeseung sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed. He had felt remarkably happier after finding out that Jake did not, in fact, have a thing for you, but now he was riled up again. He wondered what you thought about Jake, but then Heeseung wondered why you were picking fights over him.
“It was the Seeker from the Gryffindor team,” you told him in an oddly calm voice, although he couldn’t help but notice how you were fiddling with your fingers too much. “She was talking down on you during class, so I picked an argument with her after class. That’s how I got these.” You pointed at the cuts on your lower lip and cheek.
“But you don’t need to worry about her; she’s worse off than I am. I got her with a knee-reversal hex,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Let’s see how she flies after this.”
Heeseung stared at you. “You’re insane.”
“I believe the words you’re looking for are thank—”
“I love you.”
He believed he said it very, very softly, but his words echoed in his head so loudly that Heeseung couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn’t yelled it for the infirmary to hear. If it weren’t for the second year complaining loudly about how unsafe it was to have a murderous tree on school grounds, then Heeseung was sure the room would have been dead silent following his confession.
You didn’t move. The worst was happening right now; Heeseung had boldly blurted out his feelings just for you to not answer him and soon hate him for the rest of your life. It was fine. You two would graduate soon. He would no longer have to see you again, even though the smell of lavender would be a constant reminder of his first love and first heartbreak. He would die alone now. Oh, and he’d have to tell his parents with deep regret that they would not have grandchildren.
“Heeseung,” you whispered, and your lips started framing soundless words that you couldn’t get out.
The cat was out of the bag, so all Heeseung could do was stand up and own up to his words.
“You were right,” he said. “My Amortentia did smell like lavender—like you.”
He grabbed the rag on the table next to your bed, soaking it in water and wringing it out. Normally, Heeseung would have been shaking like a leaf, but he was oddly calm as he delicately held your chin, tilting your head to the side enough to get a good look at you.
“I must’ve fallen in love with you years ago—maybe even from the first time you tripped me at the Sorting Hat Ceremony,” he said softly as he dabbed at your fresh cut, and although your eyes were wide and glossy, you hardly even flinched. Heeseung was pretty sure he had never even admitted what he said out loud to himself. When he was done and set the rag aside, he said, “So… glad I got that out before I kept it to myself for the rest of my life. I’ll get going now and hopefully not kill myself on the way.”
He hurried past Madam Pomfrey, making eye contact with no one except the Gryffindor Seeker, whose knees were bent at an awkward angle. She leered at him, to which Heeseung paid no attention because he had far bigger things to worry about, like the fact that his life was over.
Before he got all the way down the hall, though, he heard footsteps getting louder and louder. When he turned to see you speeding after him, Heeseung panicked and started running himself.
“Why are you running?!” you cried.
“Why are you chasing me?!” he yelled back.
“Stop running! Get over here, Lee Heeseung!”
“No!” He was very embarrassed to note that his voice did indeed crack. “I’m scared!”
“Colloshoo!”
It was like he had rammed right into a wall. Heeseung felt like his shoes were glued to the floor, and, with a grunt, he ended up falling forward and landing on his face when they wouldn’t budge. If only you had waited to hex him after he reached the grassy outdoors instead of the hard, stone flooring of the breezeway.
“You hexed me!” He turned to look at you, exasperated. “How could you hex me after hexing someone for me?!”
“Now stay there.”
“No.” Stubborn, Heeseung started walking ahead—right down to the Great Lake so that he could wallow in embarrassment in that particularly nice patch of grass. He abandoned his shoes and trudged ahead in his socks. “And don’t follow me!”
“Heeseung,” you warned.
He groaned and turned on you just before he was looking forward to sitting down on the grass, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You—you’re terrible luck, you know that? Sheer bad luck. You know I’ve lived eleven years of my life perfectly fine until you showed up? Suddenly, everything goes wrong when I’m around you! And it’s not just missing the Hogwarts Express or blowing up a potion, it’s everything else!”
You calmly listened to him as he continued in his wild craze, “I can hardly breathe when I’m around you! I can’t even look at you for too long, or else I’ll probably combust. You make it so impossible for me to stay away from you, even though the very thing I need for the sake of my sanity is to stay away from you!”
“Are you done now?” you asked calmly, not quite breathing as hard as he was, but your chest was still rising and falling as if you were winded from running.
“Yes,” he said, “so I’ll go drown myself in the—”
Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, you grabbed Heeseung by the front of his robes and pulled him down to kiss him senseless. He thought he had been hit with a Stunning Spell from how still he was, but when he realized that this was real life and you were indeed kissing him, his hand made its way to cradle your jaw as he kissed you back with searing passion.
He was ashamed to say that he had dreamt about this scenario many times, charted all of his next moves in great detail, and fantasized about doing much more than he’d like to admit. Heeseung felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, but he kept his lips pressed to yours like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
This was everything and more than he ever expected. He was certain he could never grow tired of the taste of your lips, and he was honestly scolding himself for not having done this sooner.
Your arms naturally found their way around his neck, and Heeseung took that as his cue to drop his to your waist. Still locked in a tight embrace, you pulled away to catch your breath, leaving Heeseung to chase after your lips.
“—Great Lake,” he finished his sentence in a breath, “and hopefully get eaten by the Giant Squid—”
“Oh, shut up,” you cut him off to kiss him again.
Heeseung had no further objections. He supposed this meant that he had the shiny new title of being your boyfriend, which he considered a higher honor than Quidditch Captain. This was saying a lot because Quidditch Captains got to use the really nice bathrooms.
Your kiss was slower this time, as if you both realized you had all the time in the world. And when you both finally broke apart, Heeseung let his fingers trace the outline of your lips to commit its shape to memory.
This time when you smiled, it was far brighter than any Patronus Charm he had ever seen.
“I love you, too,” you told him with a shy grin. “Always have.”
“Seriously?”
“Since our first year. Tripping you was by accident, of course. I just thought you were cute.”
Heeseung was pretty sure the average wizard's heart couldn’t handle this overload of emotions. In a few seconds, he was sure he would need to be admitted to the infirmary himself.
Then, you punched his shoulder. Hard.
“If you didn’t Disapparate on the spot back in Hogsmede, then maybe I could've told you sooner!”
“It’s not like I wanted to Apparate away, but… but you put me on the spot!” he exclaimed. Heeseung let his shoulders sag. “Either way, I thought you liked Jake.”
“Jake?” You looked confused before you burst into laughter. “What made you think I liked Jake? He’s so clearly into Minjeong!”
It seemed to be that everyone thought the notion of Jake and you liking each other was absolutely ridiculous. If it wasn’t too late, Heeseung was up for pitching himself in the depths of the Great Lake.
Girl One and Girl Two would surely get a kick out of this.
“Okay, I get it. I’m stupid,” he said, but you wouldn't stop laughing. Heeseung sighed heavily as you wiped tears from the corners of your eyes. “Alright, that’s it, you’re so getting it.”
This time, he grabbed hold of your face (gently, of course, because he didn't want to add pressure to your gash), and he peppered kisses all over your face. You scrunched up your nose, giggling as Heeseung kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and then finally your lips.
And this—this moment he had been anticipating for seven years—was loads better than letting the Giant Squid eat him.
AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ the next morning, heeseung wakes up and basks in the afterglow of finally confessing to the girl of his dreams!! jay hands him the paper during breakfast and a picture of his shoes glued to the floor is on the front cover. anyways i hope you liked this fic!! so fun to write because i'm deep in a harry potter phase (how did this happen??) but happy valentine's day & thank you for reading <3
FIC TAG LIST ▸ @jakeslvt @520studio @jlheon @enha-stars @leep0ems @velvtcherie @woninluv @jaeyunluvr @hotsforikeu @skzenhalove @baevsxii @alyssajavenss @lovialy @loljaeyunz
─"do you know about all the filth that goes on in here?"
SYNOPSIS ⸻ being a smart kid comes with a lot of advantages; one of them being a full scholarship to one of the best schools in the country. one of the best school's that's filled to the brim with disgustingly rich teenagers. Heeseung knows you're not like them, and he also knows that'll be easy to take advantage of.
PAIRING ⸻ toxic!heeseung x innocentfem!reader
GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, private school au, smut, fluff, angst (idek tbh)
TAGS ⸻ characters are all 18 or older, toxic relationships, misogyny, alcohol abuse, smoking, marijuana/cannabis mention, partying, underage drinking, foul language, cheating (not really though) power imbalance, abuse (punches are getting thrown..) , kinda love triangle?? , making out, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), virginity loss, p in v, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, tell me if i missed something!
WORDCOUNT ⸻ 21k
everything here is FICTIONAL, it is not real. this was created for entertainment purposes only. MINORS DNI.
“No Eunseok, I don’t want to go anywhere!” you grit your teeth, backing away from your older brother.
He sighed, and with his hand pulled your wrist towards the doorway. You were acting like a brat, and he had absolutely no interest in fighting with you right now. From your standpoint, you had every reason to be behaving this way.
“There are thousands- no, millions of people your age who would die for an opportunity like this, and you're going to act like a child? Grow up, Y/n” he let out a steady breath as an attempt to calm himself down.
In some way, you put yourself in this situation. Flawless scores on all your exams, juggling multiple extracurriculars and excelling at every single one of them, participating in every Model UN you could get your hands on, making a name for yourself- being somebody. It all led to you being noticed by prestigious schools, who practically begged to host you, even though deep down, you were a nobody.
Your parents weren't snobby rich people, who thrived off of other people's ideas and failure. They weren't greedy either, working normal 9 to 5 jobs.
When you were merely 12 years old they had left to go work at your uncle's company overseas, hoping that it’ll allow them to make enough money to pay for your brother’s med school tuition and potentially have the money to fund a future clinic of his. They promised to come back as soon as Eunseok finished school and started a stable job. But they never did.
Eunseok, who was 7 years older than you, was always the favorite child. No matter how well you did or how bad he did, Eunseok was number one in your parents' hearts. There was never a family reunion where Eunseok’s medical career as a surgeon wasn't brought up- and when it did end up getting shoved into the conversation, it didn't stop until all the lights turned off.
And of course, you felt bad for your brother. He had to balance taking care of you and being a surgeon for fucks sake, but that didn't mean you couldn't feel lonely most of the time. You had a free hand when it came to inviting friends over, but unfortunately their strict parents and every other circumstance never allowed them to stay longer than one night. Your only family, your older brother who you looked up to was just never there, and you just sank deeper into your loneliness whenever he called and apologized for a sudden surgery that came up.
But still, Eunseok, was just perfect, you had no choice but to try and keep up with him.
So when the letter from Saint Matthew’s Academy came in the mail, offering you a spot in their school, with the tuition fully paid for by them, you didn't even think twice.
And now you regret that, badly.
St. Matthews Academy was a private school next to the town you grew up in. It was also an exceptionally expensive place, with tuition fees racking up to about $80.000 per year. Going there would be a privilege to most people your age, but the students there saw it as a regular school without anything special to offer them. Even if they weren't going to inherit their parents’ company's, they were truly set up for the rest of their lives anyways.
You hadn't really done any research on the school before accepting their offer, only aware of their students academic achievements and high level of education. The more you found out, the more the idea of being a student terrified you.
You would stick out like a sore thumb amidst the successful people who had a chairman position prescribed before birth.
“It’ll be okay, do you think if I let the fear get to me, I’d be a SNU alumni now?” Eunseok asked, focused on the road as he drove you right into the gates of your own, personal hell.
“We get it, you finished SNU and are a surgeon now, blah blah blah” you said, and he rolled his eyes playfully.
“I’m just trying to help you. I doubt those kids are going to be that bad. They have a reputation to upkeep anyways, can’t be caught bullying” he tried to calm you down, but everytime he opened his mouth, he just made it worse.
“Eunseok, you’re making it worse” you murmured, tucking at the skin of your thumb. He placed his hand on yours, preventing you from continuing with your bad habits “That’s exactly why I’m scared. These kids are disgustingly rich, and people like us- well we're like ants compared to them. They have an image to polish, and I have none of that” you continued, and he frowned lightly, his heart breaking at your, his little sisters, words.
“Do you seriously think you got to be in this position cause you’re a nobody? I don’t think regular and undeserving people have been given a full scholarship to a school like Saint Matthew’s. Nobody has been given a scholarship from them really” Eunseok said, making you feel slightly more confident “I can turn around, you can withdraw, but I think you’ll regret that” he said, with a light smile which you reciprocated.
Maybe you should have told him to turn around back then, maybe you should've denied the offer or thrown it away the moment you saw the letter with that heinous stamp.
_____
No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about what your first day was going to be like. Some dreams portrayed you as the future top 3 of the school, and some seemed to make you out to be the outcast loser who can’t seem to find anyone who’d befriend her.
It was nearly impossible to get those images out of your head. You thought about lying about your background, falsifying stories about your parents who own giant multi-utility corporations that supply petrol and energy to half the country, but that was pointless.
You could either be made fun of for lying or made fun of for being a ‘poor nobody’. None of them seemed right, but one didn't lead to being incredibly embarrassed for the rest of highschool.
The building did not have any correlation with the one that you imagined, the one that you constantly dreamed about. It looked nothing like the modern, smart, couple story construction that clouded your mind beyond arrival, and because of their strict laws, pictures and videos of both the inside and outside were strictly prohibited.
So all you had left was to make up your own assumptions, and the old fashioned, palace looking property was definitely not one of them. You assumed that the millions of dollars in tuition that flow into the headmaster's account every year could at least allow him to renovate the building.
But it seemed as if the gray, dirty, moss covered outer walls had a special meaning you didn't quite understand.
You definitely weren't a sucker for historical architecture, and this building looked more like a nightmare than a dream to you.
At the front office, the lady had confiscated your phone, with a smile explaining why they do it, and asking you to pick it up after classes are over. She had a creepy aura surrounding her, and you begged for her small introduction to finish as soon as possible.
“I’ll let Wonyoung, your class president, give you a tour around our school. She should be here in a moment, dear” she smiled eagerly at you, and you found it hard to reciprocate her seemingly innocent expression.
You never expected Wonyoung to be an actual angel, her figure already shining brightly as she strides towards you. You wondered how it was possible for someone to make a school uniform look this good. Her hair was long and silky, and her bangs just looked fake with how fresh and bouncy they were.
You smoothed down your uniform and fixed up your hair as she got closer to you and the eerie lady next to you.
“You're the new student, right?” she waved at you, and shot you with a pretty smile.
You had no idea how to behave, acknowledging that she probably came from a wealthy family that practically owns the country.
But Wonyoung was a little different. Her parents didn't own any big corporations or participate in any other money making schemes. Both her mom and dad met on the set for a movie that later led them to become the highest paid actors in the industry. It was pretty comical to say she was different as she still was considered a product of nepotism in the modeling world that she was so active in. She hadn't even finished highschool, but had already walked for brands like Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Maison Margiela and more. Maybe it was her pretty face or just her parents' wild connections.
“Mind if I give you a small tour? It can get complicated around here” she asked, her tone so delicate.
If anything you should be thanking her for sparing you with a little bit of time, thanking her for even allowing someone like you to be in the presence of someone like her.
You nodded your head not able to let a single word out, afraid to embarrass yourself. With a smile Wonyoung locked her arm with yours, and kept you close by her side as she showed you around the place.
“This is the cafeteria, but I wouldn't recommend you going there, the food is awful” she said, and you laughed lightly at her expression.
Was it awful cause it wasn't a three course meal with caviar, steak and truffles for dessert or was it actually not that good. You really did not fit in here and you haven't met anyone else.
“Well I see that guy is enjoying it” you commented, noticing a tall, skinny boy laughing with his friend as he consumed something you couldn't quite recognize.
Wonyoung laughed, in the most elegant way possible, and her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink “That’s Park Sunghoon, my boyfriend. He will eat anything, seriously” she stated and you nodded with a chuckle.
Park Sunghoon was son to Park Jiwon, the CEO of ParkJin Electronics. His mother had worked hard all her life to build up her own empire, resulting in him being raised mainly by nannies and his cousins. Still, he was spoiled and cocky, his family allegedly had royal roots, and even though he didn't know himself, he boasted about it every single occasion he got. He didn't seem to care much about studying, since he was the only child his mother ever had, he was next in line to inherit her electronic empire. Yet something in him felt the desire to prove to everyone that no matter what, he deserved to take over.
He also surrounded himself with people of the same social status and net worth as him, so that’s probably why he treated Wonyoung so differently, even though she was his literal girlfriend. Wonyoung was rich, but she could never compare to the millions his mother earned yearly.
Yet he was so good at pretending and gaslighting the girl into believing she's the bad person for lashing out on him after he called her ‘the type of person who polishes shoes for people like him’. He was just joking around, right? But the poor girl took it because the good moments overshadowed the absolute idiot Park Sunghoon was capable of being.
“And next to him? Who’s that” you asked, politely pointing towards the blond boy next to him who’s jawline looked like it was shaped by Micheal Angelo himself.
“That’s Jongseong, but we just call him Jay,” Wonyoung answered, looking at you with a pretty smile. Did everything she does have to be so annoyingly beautiful and perfect?
Park Jay was born in Seattle, so he was the American heartthrob that flexed his posh English skills in order to pull girls he had no interest in having serious relationships with. His dad owned the biggest hospital in the country, and on top of that had plastic surgery salons opened in practically every city. His parents had divorced when his dad's businesses started to gain popularity and bring in more money. His father assumed that his wife no longer appealed to him, and she would just be like a parasite- living off of his success. And since Jay had been harshly raised by his rough father, he shared the same opinion about his mother. Not having a motherly figure present in his life, surrounding himself with his fathers girlfriends who were only 10 years older than him, he became a Andrew Tate worshiping incel who’s main focus was making money and convincing everyone to join his self-betterment program.
“He’s nice, but I think his political and social views are a little far from the ones that girls like us have” she attempted to explain, and pretty quickly you understood he’s a misogynist.
“I see, is your boyfriend the same?” you asked, trying to sound as polite as you can, since you didn't quite know where Wonyoung wouldl draw the line.
“No, at least I’d hope he isn't” she chuckled lightly, and slowly tugged you towards another large hall in the school “He was raised by women, his dad passed away when he was around 3, so I guess he has at least some respect for us” she added, and you nodded in understanding.
“This school is really freaking big, I don’t know if I’ll be able to find my way around here” you commented and she chuckled at your use of words.
“You can say fucking, I really don’t mind” Wonyoung looked at you, and you breathed out a steady breath “I don’t want you to think of us as some posh, elegant and royal like teenagers who use a fork and knife every time they eat. I genuinely think most of us are pretty normal considering our backgrounds” she explained, and you had to stifle a laugh.
Although Wonyoung seemed like an incredibly nice and sweet girl, she truly had no idea how privileged she was. Truly, her only worry was you not thinking she’s a snobby rich kid. And that applied to all of them, you just didn't see yourself empathizing with these people, seeing how you were raised in two completely different worlds.
“It’s my first time talking to people like you, don't have much experience” you smiled and raised your hands in guilt.
She laughed at your action, and asked “What do you mean, what do your parents do then?”
You didn't want to answer that question, you didn't even want anyone to ask it in the first place. But you had to answer honestly.
“Both of my parents live overseas, but they're no one special. My dad is a construction worker and my mom has a simple office job” you said, and she didn't seem to laugh or find your parents’ profession amusing in any way “I live with my brother, he’s a surgeon” you added, and she seemed to light up at the mention.
“I want to be a surgeon too!” she beamed and you smiled as she ignored and didn't care about the fact that you weren't the future heiress of a major conglomerate “I need to speak to your brother one day, maybe he’ll give me some advice” she added and with a smile you assured her you’ll set up a meeting for the two of them one day.
She pulled you through a dark, narrow, dimly lit hallway to a giant room with a high ceiling where most of the students were currently spending their time.
“This is the common room” she said, as the two of you stood in the entryway.
Laughter ringed in your ears as you attempted to examine every student present in the area.
“Let me introduce you to Niki!” she beamed and pulled your wrist towards the unknown boy.
Niki was the son of the owners of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country. Even though he had no interest in taking over the business, his younger sister wasn't seen as competent enough to take over, so he was forced to be the next CEO. His parents and Jay’s father were close friends, planning on merging the two companies by arranging a marriage between Jay’s younger sister and Niki. His true passion was dance, he hated everything that had to do with medication, but he knew there was no chance he’d ever get to pursue his passion for a living.
“Niki!” she called to the boy, and he turned around, swiftly taking off his headphones.
“Not gonna go shop for makeup with you today, forget it” he claimed, not even noticing you standing right next to her.
“Oh please, as if I’d want to go with you” she sneered and he chuckled under his breath. “I wanted to introduce you to Y/n, she’s new here!” she continued, and he took a judging look at you.
Or at least it felt as if he was judging you, scanning you up and down as if you weren't wearing the same exact uniform as him. But quickly he shot you with a small smile, and stuck his hand out for you to shake. You applied and as nicely as you could, returned the expression.
“You’ll regret coming here, Y/n” he warned with a laugh, and you chuckled, but deep down felt like maybe he wasn't joking.
“Stop scaring her” Wonyoung said sternly, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow “I like it here, don’t listen to him Y/nnie”
“Maybe because you're a fucking nerd who’s a teachers pet?” he asked sarcastically, and Wonyoung just rolled her eyes playfully.
You stood there listening to their bickering, already getting a weird feeling that you didn't really belong here, these people were not the usual kind you surround yourself with.
“What brings you here?” he asked, which turned your attention back to the two people in front of you.
“I got an invitation, full ride scholarship and all” you explained and his eyes widened.
“You're a smart girl, aren't you?” he asked, and you chuckled lightly.
“You could say that, I guess” you said, and he looked towards Wonyoung.
“I guess you’ll finally have a smarty pants friend to talk to about the theory of relativity, or whatever you call it” he cooed, and she flipped him off.
“Jake used to be my nerdy bestie, well until he started hanging out with Jay and attending his dumbass courses” she laughed looking towards you, and he did the same nodding his head.
“Let’s be honest, ever since they created their little frat circle with Heeseung and Sunghoon, they suffered insane brain damage. But the courses were also bad enough” Niki inquired, and she laughed, agreeing with him.
Jake’s parents were real estate giants, owning at least half of the properties in the city. He had been raised with the thought of taking over his parents’ business, so he was actually the only one in his friend circle that studied and strived to achieve something. His mother or father would never let him take over if he had nothing in his head. Jake actually wanted to become a real estate agent, because after seeing his parents succeed, he wanted to be just like them.
“What exactly are these courses about?” you asked, and Niki quickly opened his phone to show you the website Jay and his computer geek friend Jungwon set up.
You didn't even bother asking the boy how he managed to sneak a phone in, assuming the one lying in the basket at the front desk, was probably one of his many devices.
“He tries to convince men that they need to unleash their inner sigma to fully embrace their manliness or something like that” he explained as you grabbed his phone to look through the website.
It looked like a failed IT project they had to do in class, and honestly you didn't understand why anyone would trust him enough to receive life advice.
“I can't believe that people actually listen to his advice” you commented, handing back Niki his phone.
“That’s not even the worst of it, he genuinely thinks that if men were to become pregnant, they would give birth in two weeks since they’re stronger, something along those lines” Wonyoung added, and you couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Maybe you were getting along with them, but the eerie atmosphere around you and the blank stares you received from other students grounded you.
“Yo new girl, wanna come to a party tonight?” Niki turned towards you with a questioning expression.
You have been studying your whole life, cramming information until late hours of the night, which resulted in you having to give up your social life or anything of that sort. You had friends, but never the time to go out with them. So this would be your first party ever, and you had no idea how to behave.
“Sure,” you replied, not giving it any more thought. If you started overthinking it, you’d probably deny the request.
“Put in your number, I’ll send you the address” he gave you his phone once again, and you swiftly typed in your digits, saving your contact under ‘Song Y/n’.
“Show me your schedule, I’ll walk you to your next class” Wonyoung turned to you, and you dug up the crumbled piece of paper you received at the front office.
_______
Niki had eventually texted you the address, offering a ride along with it, unless you already had one. You gladly accepted his offer, although his kindness seemed weird and suspicious to you.
Maybe you just weren't used to people being nice to you simply out of human decency and without any ulterior motives, but someone as high up and rich as Niki or Wonyoung should not be bothered by someone like you. They definitely shouldn't be offering you rides in their expensive sports cars.
“Oh c’mon Wony, we gotta give our transfer the princess treatment” he said, shooing her away from the passenger seat with his hand.
She rolled her eyes playfully, but agreed to give up her front seat, which you tried to convince her to take back for a little over a minute.
“No Y/nnie, you're probably going to meet our little devil tonight, you need as much peace as you can get before that” she assured, and you just shook your head at her reluctance.
“And who exactly are you talking about?” you asked, turning around to once again face Wonyoung who already got comfortable in the back seat.
“I’ll ask you that question tomorrow morning, it’s more fun that we keep it a secret for now” she giggled childishly, and Niki nodded his head approvingly at her idea.
You sighed sarcastically, and tried to remember any person they didn't go into full detail about just a couple of hours ago. Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, all of them kept getting mixed up in your head as you had no real idea as to what the three looked like. You passed by the cafeteria with Wonyoung earlier, where you didn’t quite register what Jay and Sunghoon looked like. Maybe it’s someone completely different, or someone affiliated with the three guys you had a fair amount of information about.
“You drink, don’t you?” Niki asked, turning his head to face you for just a mere second, before focusing his eyes back on the road.
“Not really” you answered unbothered.
Drinking was nothing to be proud about anyways, and assuming Niki doesn't want to lose his recently acquired drivers license, he probably wasn't going to do it either.
“Same here. Me and Wony don’t drink” he smiled “But the rest of them, their a different kind of fucked up. Especially your precious, sweet, innocent boyfriend, Wonyoung” he added, and looked at the girl through his rear view mirror.
She screwed her face jokingly “Sunghoon doesn't drink that much, at least now that he’s with me” she defended, and he scoffed.
“And you’re stupid for thinking he’s not getting shit faced every weekend with his demonic cult of a friend group” he commented, and she huffed in annoyance crossing her arms.
“Y/nnie, you know what Hoon looks like, right?” she turned her attention to you.
You shook your head, causing her to pull out her phone in order to present you with pictures of her beloved boyfriend.
He was smoking fucking hot, but his expression and lack of emotion on every picture made you think that maybe Niki was right, he truly looked like he didn't give a single fuck about the girl. Well it seems to be working out for them so far, so who are you to butt in.
“Keep an eye on him, I need to prove that my boyfriend is not the alcoholic and druggie you-” she pointed her finger at Niki “make him out to be”
“No problem” you smiled and she excitedly held your hand.
“Just when you do catch him chugging down shot glasses like a pig, don't tell her cause she won't believe you anyways” he murmured, but the both of you heard him anyways.
You turned to Wonyoung and rolled your eyes playfully which she gave you a hushed giggle at, agreeing with whatever you were thinking about.
The road felt like it had been going on forever, you swore you already saw the same street signs and lanterns a couple minutes back. It felt like Niki had been going in circles, but those thoughts were most likely caused by your absence in this area of town.
After what felt like an eternity in Niki’s uncomfortable low-floor car, that was impossible to get comfortable in, he had finally pulled over into a gravel filled space. In the distance a modern house was illuminated by colorful lights, and the music could be quietly heard from the place you were standing in.
The interior of the place was suffocating you, the music giving you a headache, the smell of cigarettes, weed, alcohol and sweat seeping into your skin, as you and Wonyoung pushed through the crowd. Wonyoung didn't seem to be affected as she pushed through the bodies in order to find her boyfriend who she must have missed terribly for the past five hours.
“Sunghoonnie!” she beamed, and his body instantly turned to the sound of her squeaky voice.
He was hard to read, you didn't exactly know if he was excited to see her or praying for her to leave him and his friends alone. He held a glass with a brownish liquid in his hand, and you knew for a fact Wonyoung was trying to ignore it or pretend it wasn't what everyone else knew it was.
Sunghoon was obviously drinking whiskey.
Even they're choice of alcohol was so different from what you knew back in your public school. Those kids could barely afford the cheapest liquor, and here you were witnessing Sunghoon and his friends downing bottles worth more than the pocket money your brother gave you every month.
“Oh great, two Wonyoung’s. Can’t women just stick to painting their nails and doing their makeup? This is not the place for you” Jay commented as he finally noticed the two of you.
“Did your daddy teach you that? I wasn't talking to you, dickhead” the girl next to you answered with a sarcastic pout to her face.
“I’m Jake” the brown haired boy stuck his hand out “You're new, right?”
Wonyoung had already let you go to entertain her boyfriend who obviously was not having it. Even as she was eating his face, he wasn't half as passionate about it as she was.
“Yeah” you took his hand “Y/n”
He had a devilish grin as he and the blond boy exchanged glances.
“So where are you coming from?” Jake asked, but his eyes weren't even focused on your face, instead staring right into your partially exposed chest.
You sighed, and leaned against the wall “Doesn't matter” maybe you had a terrible judgment of character, but you knew that admitting to coming from a public, low income school would end you right then and there.
“You’re right, it doesn't” he smirked, hoping that you had understood his intentions by now, “Want a drink?” he asked, turning around to unveil a couple glasses and a bottle of Dalmore whiskey.
“I don't really drink” you explained, trying to keep up with your nonchalant facade that you prayed would spare you some embarrassment tonight.
It felt stressful to be around them, their demeanor intimidating.
“Oh c’mon, one little glass never hurt anyone” Jay uttered, already pouring a glass that he was shoving into your hand a couple seconds later.
He looked incredibly hot doing so, his slicked back blond hair and white button down almost making you forget he’s a mentally unstable and misogynistic idiot.
Did they all have to be so irresistibly hot? Was being rich not enough?
“Drink it, there’s a reward afterwards” he added, as his attempts to place the glass in your hand turned out to be successful.
“Only if you’re a good girl” Jake added, and Jay with a devilish smile hit his shoulder.
You examined the glass, remembering all the stories of boys spiking drinks with drugs that Shotaro told you about, but all that seemed so unimportant right now.
You promised yourself to never go against what your mind told you, but that was broken the minute you downed the glass, the unfamiliar, burning flavor coating your throat.
“Atta girl” Jake praised, as he took the glass from your hand.
“Women are so easy, it’s crazy” Jay whispered, assuring you wouldn't hear his words “Let me pour you another one” he said, his voice a little louder this time.
You shook your head, but he seemed to ignore that all together, grabbing the cup and filling it to the brim once again.
“Drink up” Jake slurred, and focused his eyes onto the way your throat looked while you swallowed the liquid.
They were disgusting. The way they objectified you, the way they looked at you like you were going to let them hit without any problems.
The boys you knew would make jokes, but they’d never act on it like Jay and Jake did.
You slammed the glass on the table where it was previously laid, and without a word turned away from the two men who were clearly confused about your sudden departure.
“We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” Jake called, and with a forced smile you mouthed a ‘Maybe’.
“She still doesn't know about all the filth that goes on in here, eh?” Jay chuckled devilishly, and Jake smirked, pouring himself a drink in the cup you left behind.
You had already thought that Wonyoung and Niki were completely different from the people you used to surround yourself with, but after meeting Jake and Jay, you cursed yourself for even thinking that. You had given up your social life, so meeting new people regularly was never something that you did, but you never met someone so deranged. Were the girls at this school all so easy and compliant to their orders? You just wondered where their ego came from.
Squeezing through all the damp bodies was definitely a challenge, but finding a quiet and empty room surely made it worth it.
The room was practically empty, you assumed something that was supposed to resemble a guest bedroom, but you doubted any guest would wanna sleep here. A single bed in the middle of the large room was not enough.
You closed the door behind you with a quiet squeak, and threw yourself on the bed, your eyes facing the ceiling.
Amongst the weird smell that surrounded the room a voice called you “You're the new girl, aren't you?”
You didn't notice the open balcony door upon entering.
Your body automatically turned to face the voice, a handsome and presumably tall boy sat on one of the plastic chairs. Smoke circled around him as he looked at you with heavy eyelids, taking another hit from the joint between his fingers.
You leaned your head on the palm of your hand “How do you know?”
“News spreads fast around here. You don’t know, do you?” he gave you a childish smile, and with a nod to his head he without a word offered you to smoke with him, which you declined.
“What’s your name?” you asked him, his dark eyes bringing discomfort to your body.
“Why should I tell you, transfer?” he laughed, and you stiffened up at his answer. “It’s Heeseung” he said after a moment, noticing that you were not enjoying his jokes.
Lee Heeseung was the youngest son of Lee Guwon and Kim Shinhye, the founders and owners of the largest hotel line in the country. They just recently went international, opening yet another hotel-restaurant in the heart of Singapore. His older sister, Lee Rina, had no interest in the company, firmly convinced that it's a greedy industry. She moved to Norway to study and just never came back. But his older brother, Lee Haejun, was different. He was stuck on the idea of becoming the next CEO. After both him and Heeseung were old enough to understand what benefits came with being a leader of a major hotel line, they stopped treating each other like brothers, instead focusing on the rivalry that was brewing. They wanted so badly to prove to their father who's more competent, who deserves it more, that at one point it became too much.
Heeseung at one point no longer wanted any of it. He just wanted his brother back. Haejun just never was the same brother Heeseung learned to love. He didn't care. Heeseung felt like he lost both of his siblings although they weren't actually gone.
“I don’t think they mentioned you” you murmured, trying to recall the conversations you had with Wonyoung and Niki.
“Wonyoung and Niki? Probably because they don't like me” he laughed, and put out his blunt on the tiles of the balcony, throwing what was left into a jar filled with water.
“They like everyone, I think it’s a ‘you’ problem” you assumed, and he scoffed.
His body sluggishly stood up from the chair, as he tried to not fall over the balcony “Both of them are fake as fuck, and I don’t think you’re one to judge”
You sighed “You don’t know them”
“I know them better than you, transfer” he chuckled, “They always cuddle up to new students, just like Wonyoung did to Jake, and whenever they go slightly out of line, they drop them” he explained, and you foolishly didn't believe his words, choosing to stand with your new friends who you in reality, knew nothing about.
“I don’t know, I don't think the Jake that I just met, and got forced to drink by, is a good example” you murmured, playing with your hair, avoiding eye contact with the boy.
He had this dark aura surrounding him, his hooded eyes just adding into his image, making him look much more scary.
He slowly moved towards you, accompanying you on the silk covered bed. That’s when you could truly analyze his face; bloodshot, brown eyes, a curve to his lips, his nose slightly pointed and eyebrows straight. His skin was glistening, a soft tan to it. He looked at you so intensely, and you couldn't quite reciprocate, scared of his intimidating presence.
“Jake was always like this, they just didn't know how to handle him” he smiled, his hand inching closer to where your legs lied “They love saying that Jay ruined him, but he didn't even have to do that”
“What do you mean by having to do that? Why would he have to?” you asked, as your body froze, not allowing you to move further away from him.
He didn't stop attempting to close the gap between the two of you “You know what I mean” he smirked “This isn't the place you think it is, pretty girl. We can't have a goody two shoes prancing around” his smile was straight, as his hand moved to sooth your lower thigh.
You never were this close to a boy before.
“I still don't get it” you said, your voice trembling as he moved further up.
“You don't need to, you’ll see for yourself. Soon, don't worry” he cooed, and you could feel his sinister words burn through your skin.
“You like this? Tell me” he asked, his grip on your thigh tightened, and you felt words get stuck in your throat.
“ I don’t know you, Heeseung” you answered out of breath.
He liked the way his name slipped from your lips, your tone mellow and soothing. He could definitely get used to it.
“You don’t need to know everyone you want to have a little fun with” his eyes twinkled slightly, as he spoke softly, trying to distract you from his touch moving to places you probably wouldn't like him being in.
“Do you do this to every girl you just meet?” you piqued, and he chuckled, finally taking out his hand from under your dress in order to move a strand of hair out of your face.
“Only the ones I find pretty” he answered.
Heeseung was such a lightweight, he couldn't stop his smile and laughter as he played with you, knowing you could pretend, but not resist him. He wanted to undress you right there and then, behind an unlocked door, which he’d hoped some disgusting pervert like Jake would open, they could perhaps have you together, share your body. But he was smarter than that. He couldn't alienate you so early on.
“Maybe another time” you murmured, giving up your previous position to stand up from the bed.
He didn't let you, standing up with you, blocking you from walking to the door. He stumbled a little bit, but managed to hold you down.
“You wanted to get to know me, what happened to that?” he whispered.
“I never said that” you replied, and attempted once again to leave the room.
No one has ever had this effect on you. You didn't truly want to leave, not only his firm stance was keeping you away from that door.
You had boyfriends, but all of them were too scared to even hold your hand in public, not to mention kiss you. So you were aware of these things, but not familiar with them.
“Why do you have to be so tough? I just want to make you feel good? What’s the crime in that?” he cooed, and brought his hand up to caress your cheek.
“I always wanted it to be special, not some one night stand” you voiced, and he hummed.
It felt so weird and embarrassing to talk to him like this. You didn't know him. You also couldn't say no, cause some part of you wanted it too.
Maybe it’s because you wanted to fit in, maybe because you didn't want to be any different from the people that went to this school. But you’d always be different- as long as your parents weren't owners of a giant conglomerate or business, you’d always be different.
“My sweet girl is a virgin? That’s okay, don’t be embarrassed” he cooed, and squeezed your hand tightly.
You never knew how hard it is to be sober and talk to a high person. He just didn't fully comprehend the environment that surrounded him, not a single ounce of fear or embarrassment in his veins, just nothingness.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked with a soft voice.
Heeseung knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly how his slurred words sounded and how they affected you.
You nodded, and he grabbed your jaw, pulling you into his embrace. Nothing could have prepared you for his wet, plump lips that molded perfectly into yours. You felt so good against him, and he couldn't find himself pulling away, the bulge in his pants growing as you fingers slightly brushed along the longer strands of hair on the back of his head.
It was all so new to you. Maybe it was the alcohol that Jake and Jay forced down your throat, or maybe you just couldn't help but naturally feel attracted to Heeseung. It’s been barely 24 hours, and you’ve broken all the promises you made to yourself.
While you were overthinking, Heeseung wondered just how long until he gets to fuck your pretty, virgin hole.
“Mmm, it wasn't that hard, was it?” he smiled as he was forced to pull away out of lack of air, his eyes practically closing on him.
You avoided his gaze, a small smile on your swollen lips. He laughed softly, and grabbed your hand in his.
“I just want to help you. You’re a big girl, you should know how the world works” he cooed, dumbing you down. But you accepted it. Every word of his you took in and analyzed. Maybe he was right.
He was this big, important rich guy from an important family, and you were just living in his world. You were nothing like him, his worries surrounded taking over the company or not, while you had to wonder if you had the money to go out with your friend on the weekend. You could try, but you’ll never be the same.
And Heeseung knew that. He knew how much power he had over you simply because his bank account was decorated by nothing less than quadruple digits.
“I don’t think you should be hanging out with Wonyoung and Niki. They're fake, you know?” he whispered, and focused his eyes on you “Let me be the one you come to when you need help, okay?”
You nodded, and he just hummed in approval, liking the way you agreed with anything he said.
You knew he was treating you like a child, babying you and bossing you around like he even had any right to do so, but you didn't find yourself stopping him either.
To you he spoke with such delicacy, and he paid attention to you in a way no one ever has. Heeseung was different from anyone you encountered, and that’s exactly what pulled you in, forcing you to uncover more about him.
But he just liked how you gave into his words way easier than he thought you would. He never knew it would be this easy to manipulate you. Heeseung never expected you to so naively believe that Wonyoung and Niki were the ones who were going to do you wrong, that they were the ones to cuddle up to new students in order to drop them just moments later. He had you where he wanted you and it didn't even take him a full hour.
______
“You didn’t text me last night, did you get home alright?” Wonyoung asked, settling down next to you in the study hall.
You ignored her gaze, her shuffling and moving, making an annoyed groan escape from your lips.
“Yeah,” you replied swiftly, turning your attention back to the worksheet in front of you.
Heeseung’s words had stuck with you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of Niki and Wonyoung, one of the nicest, most welcoming people you have ever met, being bullies. But perhaps that was the reason for their warm introduction. They wanted you to trust them.
Niki, noticing that Wonyoung had finally joined you in the study hall, turned around in his chair, taking out one of his airpods.
“Did you find who we were talking about in the car? A special someone told me they saw you together last night” Niki smiled widely like an idiot, and Wonyoung giggled, awaiting your answer.
You scoffed “The so-called devil” and murmured “Heeseung, right? He was very nice, I don’t get it”
They laughed, and you felt something twist inside of you at the sound of their forced posh, and elegant laughter.
“That’s the point. He’s nice at first, to get you to like him, trust him, and then he strikes” Niki told, and to you it sounded like he was describing his little mutual admiration circle with Wonyoung.
“I don’t know, honestly. He seemed like a good person” you inquired quietly, trying to focus on the work you had to do.
“Let me guess, he asked for consent, or said he ‘just wants to help you’, and you believed he’s a respectful guy? Y/n don’t be so naive” Wonyoung said sternly, and you scoffed, remembering how her boyfriend’s best friends treated you. Sunghoon was probably no different, so who was she to judge?
“You're dating Sunghoon, Wonyoung. Mind you, he’s one of the all so bad Heeseung’s friends”
Niki and Wonyoung looked at each other confused, wondering why you were suddenly being so cold and distant.
“He wasn’t like that always,” she said, and you looked at her questioning.
“You think people can change so drastically, just like that? He always had it in him, he just found the right people to unleash it with, that’s all” you answered, and she felt her body shift slightly.
Sunghoon transferred to Saint Matthews in his sophomore year, after studying abroad in an international school in Singapore. No one could really know if Sunghoon was any different before he joined, because he almost immediately hit it off with Heeseung, and his friend group.
“You don’t know what you're talking about” Niki said, with an annoyed look on his face.
“Oh kill me then. All I know is the shitty little gig you’re playing on me. I know what you guys do to new students- shape them to be your perfect little servant, and then drop them when it stops being amusing to you. Just like you did to Jake. So stop trying to blame everything on Heeseung when you know damn well he's not a bad person” you replied frustrated, collecting all your things, and standing up to leave the space.
Niki and Wonyoung were stunned at your words, following you until you disappeared out the door.
They realized you truly had met Heeseung, and that there was no turning back now.
Just like any girl, he had you tied to his leash, and they were powerless.
____
“Yeah, it’s crazy. I didn’t expect her to fold so easily” Heeseung laughed, as he downed another shot of tequila Jay stole from his dads alcohol cabinet. His father owned so many bottles he probably wouldn’t notice one of them went missing.
Just like he didn’t notice his son's worsening alcoholic tendencies.
“No trust me, she didn’t even fight back that much when we offered her whiskey” Jake sneered, and Jay grinned evilly.
Jay was the first one to notice you. He caught a glimpse of you as you stood so shyly in the cafeterias entryway, Wonyoung happily talking to you, as you looked around the place. He didn’t recognize your face.
You were pretty to him. Your face gleaned with innocence, and he could smell the way you were so intimidated by the people and sinister atmosphere of the school. He couldn’t even bother listening to whatever Sunghoon was going on about next to his ear, focused on only you. He knew exactly what happened to sweet girls like you, and he couldn’t wait for it.
And maybe at one point in time he could have you too. His big hands would slowly take off your shirt, his fingers slipping down under your jeans, pressing against your pulsing core. You’d tell him to stop, and he’d only laugh in your ear, unbuckling his belt.
“Wonyoung said she flipped off on them today when they mentioned you” Sunghoon tuned to Heeseung, pouring himself another shot “Niki said it’s like this with every girl, and she totally went bonkers on them or some shit” he laughed before his face twisted as the burning liquid slid down his throat.
“That’s so pathetic. She doesn’t even know him” Jake chuckled, and leaned back in his seat, his back melting into the soft cushion.
“That’s like the whole point, she isn’t supposed to know,” Heeseung noted, and they nodded slightly. “And I don’t think that’s more pathetic than Wonyoung leeching onto Sunghoon even though he doesn’t even hide the fact he doesn’t like her in the slightest”
Jay scoffed sarcastically “Defending her so quickly, sure” he hummed, and Heeseung rolled his eyes.
“My mom got her a campaign with our company, and now she thinks we’re gonna get married. It’s so annoying” Sunghoon explained, and they laughed.
“Then just breakup with her. She needs you, but you don’t need her, dude” Jake commented, and Sunghoon shook his head lively.
“She’s nice to have around. And it’s not like I don’t like her at all, she just gets on my nerves” he explained.
“When my mom pissed off my dad, she got divorce papers handed to her, and kicked out the door. Women are supposed to serve men, not be an obstacle. All she is, is an obstacle. You’re taking over your mom’s company, you can’t let her get in the way” Jay turned to Sunghoon, who just pretended to listen to his nonsense.
Maybe Jay was one of his best friends, but he couldn’t bear listening to his bullshit. He grew up around women- a single mother, his nannies who were strictly women (since his mother didn’t trust men around her only child), and cousins who were practically only girls. He knew women could achieve things alone, his mother being his best example.
“So, what is your plan?” Jake averted his gaze to Heeseung, who didn’t seem to be amused by the conversation surrounding you and Wonyoung.
“Was there ever a plan? She doesn’t even put up a fight, and already blew up on her new friends. This won’t be hard” he answered, and Jake nodded, satisfied with Heeseung’s answer.
“I think you guys are wasting your time, honestly” Sunghoon commented.
Jay looked at him annoyed “You and your feminist bullshit again” he murmured, and didn’t even bother pouring the substance into his shot glass, drinking straight from the bottle.
“Jesus Christ, Jay. Just cause I have the tiniest percentage of respect for women, doesn’t mean I’m some fucking feminist. I’m not stopping you from seducing that girl, I just think it’s a waste of time. If you want pussy so bad, just find yourself a hook up, it’s not that hard” he answered, and Jay seemed to accept his answer, too tired to start another fight about this with his friend.
“We’re only 19, Sunghoon. It won't hurt to have some fun while we can” Jake piqued, and with a swift movement of his hand, grabbed the bottle from the floor, tilting it to pour the rest of liquid into his mouth.
“I just think that's kind of unappreciative” he murmured, and all of them turned to him. Jay rolled his eyes and with a sigh ushered Sunghoon to continue “A shit load of kids our age don't get to have half the opportunities we do, so if I were you I wouldn't fuck around so much, but actually put in the work to maybe prove that we aren't fucking imbeciles who just sit around and get chauffeured all day” he explained, and they all looked at him with a confused gaze.
“Says the one who is failing practically all his classes. And what does any of that have to do with Y/n? What do you like her or something? You can hit if you want, it’s an open game” Jay laughed, and Sunghoon sighed.
But he wasn't annoyed, just incredibly frustrated that none of his friends understood what he was trying to convey to them.
He didn't study, at least not much, and even though he was always aware of the fact that he will most definitely take over his mothers company, he didn't quite like the idea of people thinking he only did because there were no other options. In some way he wanted to earn it, or at least feel like he did deserve it.
“It’s most definitely not an open game” Heeseung commented, and Jay looked at him with wide eyes.
“What? C’mon dude, she’s some public school transfer, it’s just fun and games. Don't start being all protective and jealous over her” he scoffed, this being the second time that Heeseung made a comment of that sort about you.
Jay didn't like this new found protectiveness Heeseung had acquired for you even though barely 24 hours ago he was making equally nasty and perverted comments about you.
“You're being an asshole today, you know that right?” Heeseung started, his eyes scanning the room, avoiding Jay.
“I’m being an asshole? All of you suddenly started acting like some fuckass henpecked husbands, when this would be the exact behavior you’d make fun of just a month ago” he groaned, gritting his teeth.
“I’m sorry Jay that your mom doesn't love you, and your dad only sees you as a token of business, but we weren't raised like that” Sunghoon said, standing up from his seat, ready to leave.
“That’s fucked up Hoon” Jake whispered, looking at Jay’s spechless expression.
“You know what else is fucked up Jake? That Jay is a fucking misogynist and Heeseung is some otherworldly type of addict and no is trying to help them. I have been the only person who has been putting in the slightest amount of effort to try and get them help, but I can't possibly do it alone. That’s fucked up Jaeyun. I’m leaving” he blew up, grabbing all his things, and with a tired sigh he left the living room, going straight for the door.
It was true. Maybe Sunghoon was an idiot and sometimes acted like a huge asshole, but he was right. He loved his friends and seeing them ruin and throw their lives away hurt him. But everyone who was caught up in the same wind, didn't seem to notice.
“Call me when you fucking grow up, Sunghoon” Jay shouted, an angered expression plastered all over his face as the door slams abruptly.
All three of them sat in silence as they tried to figure out what happened in the span of just a couple minutes. How did the conversation come down to Jay and Heeseung having issues, and why was Sunghoon suddenly trying to act all sweet and caring when he never did care.
Or at least they didn't notice the countless times Sunghoon tried to stop them, but to no avail.
“I think I’m gonna go too,” Heeseung said, after a moment of dead silence.
Without a word, Jay and Jake nodded, still not quite present in the moment.
That’s exactly how Heeseung ended up in your home, dumping all his issues onto you as you attempted to comfort him with a slight brush of your fingers against his soft hair.
Your outbreak with Wonyoung and Niki, left you feeling alone once again. Those thoughts kept eating you alive, but you knew that's exactly what they wanted. They wanted you to desperately crawl back to them, begging for another chance as you cried out an apology.
You knew that coming back to them would only prove this (untrue) point of them using you and many others for their own pleasure. Turning around, and apologizing would hurt your pride beyond repair.
And it wasn't like Heeseung was making this up either. His heart genuinely cracked at the sight of his friends fighting.
They fought, all the time, but there was no comparing this to a fight over who gets to take the first hit or who gets to play the better character, to Sunghoon leaving completely, his harsh words still lingering in the air.
He wasn't an addict. He was a normal teenager doing normal teenager things. He wasn't wrong for being curious.
“I’m happy that you stood up for me today, at study hall” he said, his voice low as your touch was putting him in a sleepy state.
“How do you know about that?” you asked, not even having the time to tell him about it.
He smiled, rolling on his side to face you “Sunghoon told me”
“Are you really not mad at me?” you tilted your head curiously.
He laughed, and lifting himself from your lap, he grabbed your hand in his. You could feel his warm touch embrace you fully, the action alone was enough to calm your uneasy heart.
“No one stands up for me. I could never be mad at you for being on my side even though you barely know me” he admitted, and it made your plush lips form into a small smile.
“Your friends never stand up for you? I find that hard to believe, Hee”
He likes the way his name slips from your lips, the usage of the nickname forcing him to stifle the growing, uncomfortable feeling in his pants. He hated the fact that he had to control himself around you. But still, he loved the innocent look on your face as you were so oblivious to the boner in his pants.
“They just don't know how to, I think,” he said in a whisper. “They're too caught up in their own lives, and I don't blame them. They have a lot on their plate as it is” he added, his lips forming into a straight smile, as he tried to look apologetic in front of you.
Heeseung wanted you to see him as this complex, emotional being that's only purpose on earth is to help others. His financial situation wasn't helping him create this image, he feared that you’d think he’s just searching for problems, wanting to experience life with all the hardships that a person like him doesn't usually get bothered by.
But you never thought so, you viewed Heeseung the exact way he wanted you to. You believed in every word he said. If only he knew that though, his cocky nature would probably fight its way to domination.
“You’re a good friend, Heeseung” you smiled, squeezing his hand tighter. He chuckled lightly, looking at you with the same straight smile “You have me now, you know that? You said you’d help me whenever, and I want to do the same for you”
You vividly remember his lips on yours. You can recall exactly how he tasted and how he felt against your own skin. He helped you reach some otherworldly ecstacy without going further than a simple touch. You knew you wanted him to be more, but it was too early for that admission, too early to let yourself sink in that feeling.
You didn't understand what was going on between the two of you, where this connection was heading, and in some way it thrilled you. You couldn't possibly be friends, not after what he said that night.
“I hope you know I meant everything I said” he uttered, and you slowly nodded, trying to recall every word that slipped from his pretty lips “I think you’re special” he added.
Heeseung didn't know himself if this was all fake, cause at that moment it felt too real to him. He was speaking from his heart, in some way.
Lee Heeseung was beautiful, the closest you’ll get to any godly figure. He couldn't possibly be flawed in any way.
But there were some things the boy wouldn't even admit to himself. All the fighting, and neglecting, made him out to be this way. He always longed for the type of love no one but a parent could give him. He wanted to be loved so much it picked him apart. Heeseung never experienced what it’s like to care for someone so much, to care for someone unconditionally.
And as the youngest sibling, no one had that love for him, because there was someone before him.
“I’m definitely not special, Hee. It’s all you” you smiled, and he laughed softly, his eyes falling onto his lap as a rosy tint decorated his cheeks.
“It could always be just us. You could come over, and stay till morning” he turned to you, a newfound sincerity in his eyes, as he spoke to you.
“You’d want that?” you uttered quietly.
The faint melody playing from the radio became muffled as you sat next to him. You never felt closer to another person, and it was all so new to you.
“Mhm, really” he confessed, and you believed.
It was all so domestic- he wanted to escape his family line, but he behaved just like them. Heeseung could never change the blood he was born with, blood of condescending, arrogant, manipulative, money hungry assholes.
“Will you promise to stay with me?” he asked, ending the comforting silence that embraced you.
You laughed lightly, finding his worries sweet “I promise” you said sticking out your pinky finger.
“You still do that?” he said with a soft chuckle. You pouted awaiting his finger that could solidify the promise.
He laughed and intertwined his pinky with yours.
_______
Spending time with Heeseung was easy. He just always knew what to say and what to do. He was like the sweetest thing bee’s like you would fly towards.
He had eventually introduced you to Jake, Jay and Sunghoon who eagerly apologized for coming onto you and forcing alcohol down your throat at the party, and stupidly you laughed it off not wanting to give them reasons to dislike you.
You wanted to fit in with them. Eunseok wasn't as happy, trying to keep up with your new lifestyle, but something deep inside him didn't want to stop. He knew he owed it to you after the years of neglect his parents had presented you with. After the years of living in his shadow maybe this was the only way to repay you.
Jake had seemed awfully desperate when you first met him. He looked and acted like one of those sleazy guys who adds girls on snapchat and sends them unsolicited dick pics, but he quickly managed to prove you wrong. You rarely spent time alone with him, almost never, but whenever that moment came, Jake became a completely different person. He was nice. He was actually so painstakingly nice to the point where you would ponder his existence in that friend group.
And Jay- you felt nothing towards the boy. The one thing Wonyoung and Niki got right was his obvious desire to become a Korean Andrew Tate. He had nothing to give except misogynist comments he’d pretend were only jokes, and if you dared to be offended then you simply had no sense of humor.
Sunghoon, it was hard to describe him. He just didn't really talk much. He was never there, he wasn't present although sitting just across from the ongoing conversation. Maybe he always was this way, or maybe you were the problem.
But Heeseung, he felt some kind of obsession towards you. He wanted to carve his initials deep into your skin until you bleed a deep shade of red, all out of love for him. He wanted to touch you in the places your mere, inexperienced fingers couldn't reach. He couldn't understand you, he couldn't bear the fact that you didn't fit into the pattern, and it made him sick.
“Get a fucking grip Y/n!” Wonyoung screamed, tugging at the thick material of your blazer.
She pulled you discreetly into a dark hallway that connected the music hall to the rest of the school.
“Don’t touch me” you uttered, trying to peer away from the girl.
Wonyoung didn't look mad, angry, her face was full of desperation as her glassy eyes looked at your tired face.
“Don't you see what he’s doing to you? He’s trying to ruin you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!” she begged for understandment but your face was blank.
“Are you jealous? What is this about, Wonyoung? God, If you want Sunghoon’s attention then go ask him for it. I don’t know you, and you don't know me” you grit your teeth, as she looked at you terrified.
“What are you even talking about?” she uttered, her voice cracking.
“I’m done playing your game. Find another person to play with, I’m sure there's plenty” you replied.
“Y/n you're not one of us. You never will be, so stop trying so hard. Getting with Heeseung won't help you fit in either. And you better not come to me when he destroys whatever reputation you have left” her words were harsh, and it seemed like your mention of Sunghoon riled her up completely.
Wonyoung and Sunghoon have been dating for a while now. Only Wonyoung would know the exact timeline since Sunghoon had no interest in celebrating milestones with the girl.
It wasn't like he didn't like her at all, he wouldn't give her the time of day if that was the case. He just found it thrilling and entertaining, the way she called his name, the way she’d give up everything for him if he asked. Sunghoon’s mother had set him up with the eldest daughter of Taesung Group the moment she found out he’d be a boy, so to him, Wonyoung was just a distraction from the tiring business life his mother engulfed him in.
“Give it up, Jang Wonyoung” a male voice echoed, footsteps coming closer.
She looked disgusted when the vision of the boy became clearer.
“Didn't manipulate her enough today, so you had to come do it here? Fuck off, Heeseung” she sneared.
Heeseung laughed, and grabbed your hand ostentatiously. Her gaze was glued to your intertwined hands. It made you smile slightly, the way her lip twitched at the vision, it was satisfying.
“No one’s manipulating anyone. Sorry if that messes up your little narrative” he replied, with a smile that made her want to throw up.
“I’ve been here long enough to know that's bullshit. You’re full of shit, Lee Heeseung”
Your eyes flew back and forth as you tried to analyze everything about the situation.
“Open your eyes, Y/n. Can’t you see it?” she whispered, her expression changing as she turned towards you.
“I’m not like you, remember? So stop trying to give me advice, it’s pathetic” you voiced, and she scoffed.
“Did she say that to you” Heeseung looked down at you worriedly, and as soon as you nodded slightly, he looked back up to Wonyoung “And I’m the bad guy? At least she didn't have to convince Kim Sunoo’s parents to forcibly get her into the school” he smirked, and Wonyoung with a frustrated groan, positioned her body towards the music hall, leaving you two in the eerie hallway.
Wonyoung was the best scoring student, but things used to be completely different. She despised studying, keeping a large distance from all sorts of books. But her parents couldn't fathom the idea that Wonyoung would not attend Saint Matthews. So with a bottle of expensive wine and some sweet words, the girl's parents got her in using their connection to Kim Sunoo’s parents who were major politicians in the country.
She didn't like people bringing that up ever since it drunkenly slipped her while at a birthday party, so Heeseung exposing it in front of you had her embarrassed for the rest of the day. She wanted you to believe her badly, but the revelations only confirmed all your speculations about the girl, making it practically impossible for you to listen to anything she has to say to you from now on.
…
“God Wonyoung is such a bitch! Is she jealous? What is her issue seriously” you complained, pacing around Heeseung’s terrifyingly large room.
It was your first time over at the boys house. It was unusual for you, all the maids showing you around, treating you like royalty, guiding you to every room. Their fake smiles, and forced acts of kindness made you sick.
His house was colossal, massive, it extended into a vast land and the drive up to it alone was long-lasting. The walk from your apartment to a nearby store wasn’t half the length of his home, and it was appalling to you in a way.
Heeseung’s room, for contrast, was bright, warm and welcoming. The sunlight shined down on his belongings from the ceiling high window, creating a special space where all his piano, guitars and other musical instruments lay. You recall him telling you about his passion for music, but you took it as more of an underground soundcloud rapper type of situation.
“It’s just Sunghoon. It’s always been about Sunghoon” he answered calmly, sitting down on his couch, and with his wrought hand, patted down his lap, beckoning you to come to him.
“Your friends are nice, and all, but you know nothing can substitute a girl best-friend. I just hoped she would be different” you sighed, and placing yourself on Heeseung’s lap, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck, head slightly leaning on his shoulder.
His hands instinctively encased your waist, his head moving along with his eyes, as he tried to get a better look at your worn out face.
For a moment Lee Heeseung felt bad, seeing how much comfort the two of you found in each other, knowing he can’t possibly let this go on longer. It started off with pure lust, a need to ruin the scholarship student that knows nothing about life from this side. Now he was finding himself wanting more, knowing he can’t give it.
Heeseung wanted to wreck your innocent image, but found himself losing it far before he even had the chance to start his plan.
“They’re your friends now too, Y/n” he whispered, the moment feeling way too sacred “She’s lying, you know that right?” he asked after a moment of silence. He looked at you once again, checking for your expression.
“I know, Seungie” your voice is muffled by the material of his jacket, but he can hear your words loud and clear.
He feels like all the air in his lungs has been vacuumed up, as his last breath hitches in his throat. He feels sick. Your pretty eyes look at him with so much sincerity, trust, yet all he can think about is vivid images of your small frame under him. He can't help but wonder just how much prettier you’d look with tears in your eyes as you’d tell him it hurts.
His fingers slightly slide over the buttons of your blouse, as he continues to stare deeply into your face, searching for signs to stop. But you look towards him indifferently, a calm expression decorating your features.
Heeseung’s hand hovers over your uncovered thigh. He wants to feel the wetness that seeps through your panties on his fingers so badly. He wants to slowly unbutton your blouse, his eyes scanning your figure, his hands grabbing onto anything.
“Do you want to smoke with me?” he asked, hoping that his lessons on how to properly inhale would lead him to something a little more intimate.
“I haven't done that yet” you admit, and he chuckles.
“I know. This could be your first” he smiles “Remember, I told you I want to help you. Well I’m doing it now” he added, quickly
“Am I going to be fine?” you asked, peeling your head off his shoulder to look at him properly.
Heeseung smiles leaning back on the couch. His fingers delicately push stray strands of hair behind your ear “I’m fine, so I’m sure you’ll be okay” he assures and you nod moderately.
You deliberately slide off his lap, as he stands up to rummage through the bottom drawer of his dresser. He pulls out a tin box with an adorable puppy on it, and you find it humorous in a way, considering the pretty design is hiding something so toxic inside.
You remember the sight of high Heeseung very well. He seemed to scare you a little back then, his words slipped from his mouth with so much ease and confidence.
“You don't have to worry, nobody really gets high on their first try” he places the box on his coffee table, carefully opening it up.
“Well that’s no fun” you comment.
“It isn't the case for every new smoker, but still no one really knows why,” he explained, using his extensive knowledge to educate you.
It wasn't the ideal area of knowledge to know everything about, but it made Heeseung feel good. It made him feel safe whenever he smoked with his friends or new people. He always knew what to do and how to act if something were to go wrong.
“This weed Jay sold off to me is hella dank, maybe you will feel something after all” he smiled, and even though you had no idea what he was saying, you reciprocated.
Heeseung pulled out one of his filters, folding it and rolling it into a cylinder. He placed it at the end of his paper, filling it with cannabis and sprinkling just a bit of tobacco inside. He tightened it and with his tongue moistened the shiny edge of the paper.
“You need to feel the smoke travel down to your lungs” he explained, searching for a lighter in his pockets “Inhale for like 2 seconds, and take smaller hits so you don't cough so much” he smiled, finally pulling out a green lighter.
You never were interested in smoking or drinking, but some part of you couldn't deny Heeseung. It was stupid, but perhaps this was your one way ticket to his heart.
Heeseung lit the joint, staring intensely as the flame moved across the surface, waiting for the right moment to take the first hit.
He inhaled, his teeth slightly gritting as he exhaled the smoke, the familiar scent hitting your nose.
He held the blunt between his fingers, and moved closer towards you “I’ll guide you”
Heeseung propped the lit cannabis next to your lips and with a nod to his head, ushered you to take it into your mouth. You assuringly looked at him, counting down the two seconds in your mind as a burning sensation coated your throat. You felt the smoke travel down to your lungs, pulling away to take a deep breath. With a small cough you exhaled, making Heeseung smile.
He didn't know he’d enjoy seeing you like this “Good girl”
You took a long sip of the water that has probably been on his coffee table for a long time, the liquid tasting a little weird. But you didn't care, the need to moisten your throat overpowering the unfresh taste.
“Was it good?” he asked, taking another rip.
The smoke hit you in the face “Not the best” you answered honestly and he chuckled.
“It gets better” he assured, and passed you the blunt again.
…
It felt weird. Weird in a good way.
Your eyelids felt heavy, the laughter coming to you naturally. Obviously you didn't feel half as high as Heeseung who swore he was walking in slow motion, but you most certainly were enjoying yourself.
To Heeseung it feels like an attack on his fragile ego, the fact that he has gotten so far but not on top of you just yet. And even with the minuscule bit of confidence he has earned right now, he needs to at least try.
Your purity radiates off of every one of your laughs as you intently look at him, just slightly fiddling with the loose string on your skirt. If he moved just a little bit he would probably be able to see what's under the navy material.
Heeseung’s pants start to feel uncomfortable against his skin once again as you keep on laughing so innocently at his ambiguous jokes only a virgin like you wouldn't understand.
He wants to feel your lips against his again but this time he knows he won't stop at that. He can't.
“I want to kiss you so bad” he admitted, and you felt an unknown wave rush through your veins, his face slowly inching closer.
He waited patiently for a response, his mind well aware that any sudden move would cause his plan to backfire.
But instead of letting him take the lead, you nearly closed the gap between the two of you, letting your lips just slightly graze against his, smiling as he waited impatiently.
“Such a tease” he murmured before pressing his pretty mouth against yours, his hands traveling to the back of your neck, holding you still against him.
He smiled into the kiss, his tongue tasting the familiar vanilla chapstick, the scent of your perfume hypnotizing, making a blur of Heeseung’s mind. The way your lips felt against him even though you were so inexperienced, it felt much more special to him.
Heeseung’s lips never left your skin, traveling so delicately down to your jaw, placing chaste kisses everywhere he could. His ivory fingers held tightly onto your waist, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he continued to slide down to your neck.
He wasted no time leaving small, and visible marks, his teeth slightly biting into your skin, the quiet breaths that left your mouth, riling him up even further.
“Can I?” he asked, Heeseung’s eyes going back and forth from your face to the buttons of your dress shirt.
With your mouth parted and an unsteady breath you nodded.
He smirked, and continued to attack your collarbones, his fingers unbuttoning your blouse with ease.
“You’re so hot” he breathed onto your chest, pressing you down onto the mattress fully.
The sweet noise that slipped from your lips, made a sly smile reappear on Heeseung's face, his cock twitching in his pants, the material suffocating him.
If he moved down even a little bit, he’d probably be able to notice the soaking wet patch on your panties.
The way his lips felt against almost every part of your body, the soft yet sudden touch of his fingers, it all felt way too good to give up.
Heeseung gave you a knowing look, his face just a couple centimeters from your heat, his hands digging into your thighs.
He noticed your relectuance “You know I just want to help you” he cooed, soothing down your skin, crawling right back up to face you “Let me make you feel good, pretty girl”
You weren't afraid of many things in your life, but most importantly, being unraveled by Heeseung and him finding nothing he wants in there.
You nodded slowly, his smile growing with each one of your nods. You didn't know what he’d do next, the blood in your body pumping faster as you anticipated his next move.
Heeseung moved up your skirt, and as the fabric moved up, your skin burned with anticipation. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your covered cunt, begging for his attention.
“So wet” he commented, his hand gently pressing your sensitive core “I barely even touched you” he added, chuckling.
He gave you one last glance searching for confirmation, which you once again gave him, before sliding off your underwear. Heeseung didn't even bother removing your skirt, his mouth wet with desire.
Heeseung’s fingers barely hover over your folds, the sole heat that radiates off of him making you squirm, twitching slightly.
He laughs “So sensitive and for what? Relax, pretty thing”.
He positions himself against you, his eyes locking with yours as he places swift kisses on your inner thigh. His lips move down in a slow pace, and you have to stop yourself from pushing his head forward. Each peck burns on your shivering skin, overwhelming you to the bone. His breath felt soft on your bare flesh, fingers digging into your thighs.
His tongue flicked out, coming in contact with you after what felt like eternity. Your legs fight the urge to close on him, his mouth sending shockwaves of pleasure down your body.
You grab at the nearest pillow, covering your face with it, embarrassed at how exposed you felt in front of him. His tongue delved deeper, lapping up all he could taste of you.
The heat of his touch, the place that warmed you. The pulse, he could hold onto it alongside other rythmns. He just couldn’t get enough, he wanted to pry you open. Time faded away slowly, as he continued to devour you.
You were on the edge, teetering between pleasure and pain, your body begging for release, as the knot in your stomach tightened.
His mouth latched onto you, sucking and flicking with expert precision. He was enjoying himself, the sweet taste of innocence lacing his tongue. The sweet taste of crimson red innocence that he worked so hard to diminish, that he worked so hard to scrape you of.
Heeseung was probably the closest you'll get to heaven in this lifetime. He was God's favorite, right at your thighs giving you the most beautiful form of pleasure avaliable.
“Fuck” his chest heaves uneasily, his fingers gripping tightly onto your thighs “I could eat you out everyday”
You wanted to beg him for more, beg him to let you release as it became even harder to hold it in. Completely and utterly lost in the new sensation, you roll your hips, gliding against his parted lips.
“Keep doing that, fuck” he slurs, lost in a trance, his only goal being making you feel good.
You caught a glimpse of him for just a moment- his pretty eyes so focused, his lips swollen and covered in your arousal. With every sound, every small movement, his actions became rougher, the feeling in your stomach becoming unbearable.
“Cum for me, please” he mumbled against your skin, his desperation to make you cum fueled by the way you can't even form a proper sentence in response.
Your fingers grip his bed sheets, his name falling from your lips multiple times before you feel the knot in your stomach quickly coming undone, a wave of intense pleasure washing over you.
“Oh my god” you cried before fully releasing onto his face, his tounge desperately trying to lap up every single drop of his own hard work.
Your whole body twitched in the aftermath of your climax, Heeseung still holding you down, his pretty lips back on your thighs and stomach, as he waited out your high with you.
“So pretty,” he murmured, looking at you with lovesick eyes.
With just a small blunt that barely got any of you high, Heeseung managed to get you just halfway where he needed you. Obviously, he’d rather have you on your knees in front of him, tears filling up your eyes as he pushed your head further down his cock, but this was enough to satisfy him, for now.
He was peeling apart your innocence slowly, but surely, and his ego was never higher.
______
It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to Aeri Uchinaga.
Aeri, or how everyone liked to call her, Giselle, was one of your closest friends from the “lower class” school you used to go to. She was like a sister to you, the only ‘family’ you ever truly had in your life.
You promised yourself to never let go of your values and never let your relationship with Aeri falter, but both of those things went down the drain a long long time ago.
Seeing the messages between the two of you lose all their momentum, become less frequent, and come down to ‘How’s Saint Matthews’ or ‘How are you holding up over there?’ frightened you.
Would she even want to talk to you? Would she pick up if you called? Would she care?
“I don’t know. Maybe I should just let it go?” you said, scrolling through all the messages you and Aeri shared over the past month, noticing how you could probably count them with two hands.
Heeseung hummed, turning away from his calculus worksheets “I think if she cared enough she’d reach out. She should understand you're busy with your new life and be the first one to initiate conversations and all”
It was partially true. Why should you be the only one to care and keep the friendship going? She should also try more, shouldn't she?
“I’ve known her for years, Hee. I can't just let go that easily” you murmured, and he scoffed quietly.
“But you have me now, isn't that enough?” he asked, his expression emotionless.
Heeseung didn't even realize his words came out much more arrogantly than he intended.
“I know, I’m sorry” you looked down “I just still want her to be in my life, that’s all” he hummed in approval, finding it annoying, the way your words implied like he wasn’t satisfying you in every sector.
Jay, who sat opposite of you in the study hall, sighed ostentatiously.
“Then just text her? I don't see the issue, seriously” he commented, pulling one of his airpods out of his ear, apparently tired of hearing you complain about such an ‘easy matter’.
“It’s not that easy, Jay” Sunghoon mumbled, not taking his eyes off the work in front of him.
Jay gave him a questioning look, deciding not to continue the conversation, way too tired for another fight with Sunghoon.
Sunghoon had been behaving awfully weird ever since the fight at the apartment. He suddenly felt the need to comment on everything slightly negative that Jay or anyone else said towards you. That was one of the primal reasons for the group's continuous fighting.
“Let’s get out of here” Heeseung turned to you after a moment of uncomfortable silence.
You nodded reluctantly, still not finished with the stacks of papers you had to complete by tonight. But you could never deny Lee Heeseung. Not with the way his eyes glare at you intensely, and definitely not with the way his hand grips yours tightly, pulling you away from the table, not leaving a second for goodbyes. Not like you’d want to fakely smile at Park Jongseong with a wave; you fucking hated his guts.
“You’re being weird today” you notice, his body facing away from you, pulling you towards an unknown destination.
You still haven't fully addressed the lingering tension that stuck to you after what happened. But since Heeseung didn't bother mentioning it, you decided that it probably would be better to leave it at that. Sex, with all the ways it came in, was normal, and you were sooo normal about it too.
“I’m not”
Heeseung couldn't avoid the growing pain in his heart, recalling whatever the fuck he did back at his house, seemingly starting to realize that it probably wasn't something he needed to do, but something he wanted to do.
For fucks sake, he never came out with the initiative to eat a girl out, and he most definitely never just left it at that, not even getting his dick wet in the process.
The usually loud and bustling atmosphere of the student common space seemed to be gone, the bean bags and couches empty, no student in hindsight.
“I just can't be around them anymore,” he added after a rather long moment, sitting down with a thud on one of the black couches.
“Did you fight again?” you asked, placing yourself down next to him, your hands almost automatically finding their way to his own.
“You could say that” he chuckled, recalling how Jake once again brought up your topic, which led to yet another heated discussion.
“You should talk to them, this has been happening way too much recently” you ushered, and he shook his head with another small laugh.
“They are most definitely not those kinds of people. Don't think I've had a serious conversation with them like ever”
Heeseung, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon have been friends for quite a long time now, especially Heeseung and Jay, and their lack of communication was astonishing. Every fight would be brushed off, they’d just pretend nothing happened and laugh it off. Every hard decision would have to be made individually because asking for advice was pointless. It wasn't easy with them and Heeseung knew that.
“Either way, I’m happy you talk to me about it, maybe it can ease your mind just a little” you smiled, and he reciprocated, looking at you.
“Yeah, it does help” he confirmed, and leaned back.
Heeseung lived by night. As soon as the sun set it was as if his sins were disguised. So he hated the way his mind was slowly coming to the realization that the stupid plan he made was set for disaster the moment he sought out for you in the morning.
“Do you want to come over after classes?” he asked, playing with the hem of your skirt, the seemingly innocent action making your heart flutter nervously.
“I’m over there almost everyday” you laugh, and so does he, a snide smile on his lips.
“You know your fate then” he says, his hand still inching closer, the public space that surrounded you having no effect on him.
“Why are your parents never home?” you ask, and he finds it humorous in a way. Obviously owners of a multimillion company would never find time to spend back at home with their adult sons.
The difference between you and Heeseung was that you knew your parents wouldn't be there to welcome you home everyday. You knew it was impossible. Heeseung could only suspect or assume, because his parents had given up on telling him when they’ll return from a business trip a long time ago.
“They’re busy, I guess” he said, with a small sigh “Or at least they pretend to be, I wouldn't be shocked if the multiple business trips were just vacations” he laughed, his gaze falling onto you again.
“At least you have your brother there” you smiled and he chuckled, he most definitely did not have a brother in reality.
“Honestly, if he wasn't there it wouldn't make much of a difference” Heeseung sighed, and even though he’s gotten used to the relationship he shared with his brother, it still saddened him in a way.
“It’s about the company, right?” you asked, and he nodded with a chuckle.
“Smart girl” he cooed, ruffling your hair softly. You laughed, and shoved his hand off playfully.
It wasn’t so hard to assume after all. What else could rich siblings be fighting over, who gets to sit in the passenger seat? Who gets to have the last slice of pizza? That's so fucking humorous. He was fighting with his brother over millions and a couple more millions, and didn’t even realize how materialistic and stupid that sounded to someone like you.
Heeseung pulled your body closer to his, feeling an otherworldly connection course through his veins as you gave away your warmth to him. And how much tighter did you need to be pressed against each other before he finally admitted that he wasn't doing this for warmth.
How many times did his thumb have to press against the edge of your mouth for him to realize he's gone too far?
“Did you hear that Sunghoon broke up with Wonyoung?” he asked, his body melting into yours with every passing second.
You looked at him with wide eyes, but on another note, you would be lying if you said you didn't expect it. And it most definitely didn't shock you that Sunghoon was the one to initiate it.
“Why?” you asked, even though it wasn't a hard deduction to make yourself.
“I think me and you both know why” he huffed, a hint of humor lacing his tone “Honestly good for him, that girl is insufferable”
“Oh I know” you agreed, and he smiled “Go easy on him, still”
“I'll try my best” he rolled his eyes playfully “We should definitely throw him a celebration party” Heeseung inquired and you chuckled.
“Is that really something he’s celebrating, or just us?” you asked and he smiled.
Sunghoon was so incredibly hard to read, and knowing if the breakup is impacting him negatively or positively was something nobody would ever know.
“It’ll still help him get back up on his feet, if he even needs to” he replied, and you nodded smiling.
You had no idea about the status between you and Heeseung. Things happened, and things were most definitely still happening, you both knew it, but nothing changed within the label itself. But then again, you took Heeseung as the type that didn't like labeling things.
Of course you wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted people to start knowing you by “Lee Heeseungs girlfriend”, not “Broke Transfer” or “Poor Scholar”.
You relied heavily on Heeseung. He was like your life support in the walls of this school. He helped you make decisions and was there for you whenever you needed him. He felt just like flying too close to the sun, and it was addictive. You knew that very well.
He truly was the only person you had. And well, you assumed that maybe calling Aeri isn't that good of an idea.
Well, that’s what Heeseung agrees with anyway.
__________
You were so out of it.
You had told Eunseok that you’ll be staying the night at a new friend's house, but would he really care if he were to find out you’d actually be getting shit faced at a massive house party in a mansion you didn’t really know the owner of.
Probably not.
The music was so loud you could barely register the words Kim Sunoo spoke to you so enthusiastically. You had come here expecting to spend some time with Heeseung, but no matter how much you wanted to go look for him, the never ending white hallways that led to countless guest bedrooms frightened you.
From your comfortable position on the couch, you could spot Sunghoon’s lonely figure at one of the tables. He was supposed to be the main attraction, the whole event centered around his new found freedom, but it seemed like everyone around him was having much more fun than him.
You quickly waved off Sunoo, unsure of what he truly was going on about for the past 10 minutes, heading towards Sunghoon.
“Are you okay?” You asked without having to shout in the boy's face, finding the corner he sat in much quieter.
He looked startled, he didn't catch the moment where you came to him “I’m fine” Sunghoon replied swiftly, blinking a few times.
You found it cute.
“Why are you alone? Where is everyone” you asked him another question and for the first time you saw him smile so sweetly.
He always had the same emotionless expression on his face, conversations with him felt like a punishment. Seeing him like this made your knees weak, a slight pain in your heart as you wondered what he was thinking about.
“I hoped you’d tell me that” he said, his small smile never fading.
You chuckled “I thought all this was supposed to be for you”
He shook his head with a laugh “I never wanted any of this. They just used my situation as an excuse to get black out drunk, I guess”
Even though it was sad, he never stopped smiling at you. His head rested on his knuckles, his eyes twinkling as his gaze was focused on you.
“That’s rude” you inquired, and he laughed again, but this time it much more resembled a scoff.
“Heeseung has done and is doing things much worse” he murmured, and even though the music was still very much blasting through the speakers, you heard him.
You thought about it before questioning him again. Did you even want to know? Or are some things better left unspoken.
“Like?” you finally said, and that’s when Sunghoon went quiet.
With a thud he slammed his glass on the table, and stood up. He nodded his head towards one of the rooms at the end of the hallway signaling for you to follow him. He extended one of his hands towards you, and with the smallest bit of hesitation you took it, allowing him to lead you towards the space.
Park Sunghoon looked so beautiful that night. His ivory skin glowed under the bright, colorful lights, his gaze was so piercing, and his lips just begged to be kissed. The pair of glasses hanging off his nose complemented his white fitted dress shirt, and his black pants showed off his perfectly long legs. You saw a different side of him and didn’t exactly like the way it made you feel.
He closed the door behind you after assuring that the two of you would be alone. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why he was betraying one of his closest friends.
But he thought about it all the time. He couldn’t get peace of mind. He couldn’t let his heart hurt for you, watching you fall for a fraudulent man that didn’t deserve someone as loyal and caring as you.
“What is going on Sunghoon?” you asked, standing above him, as he placed himself on the leather couch with a sigh.
“I know you like him, I know you believe everything he says and I know you won’t like what I’m about to say” he started explaining, and the suspense was killing you “But he’s not the guy you think he is. You’re not the first one, Y/n”
“What the fuck do you mean I’m not the first one Sunghoon. First, what?”
He was trying to stay calm, but you were already getting annoyed and he hasn’t even dropped the real bomb on you.
Sunghoon thought about it for a second. Was using Pham Hanni a good example or should he reach deeper inside his mind to find another person Heeseung has used to fulfill his own perverted and psychotic desires.
“I mean you’re not the first girl he has used this way” he uttered without looking at you, too scared to see your expression.
Were you scared? Or were you mad? Hurt or in disbelief?
You didn’t respond, letting the silence devour the two of you for a moment.
“Please say something, Y/n” he whispered, grabbing your hand.
His hands were cold, his fingers long and ivory. His touch was so smooth, and welcoming. He managed to pull you down next to him, yet you still couldn’t slip a word out of your mouth. He wondered if you’d ever reply or if you would just sit there, forever, next to him in silence.
He’d like that. He’d like that more than he should. He was already betraying his friend, but his heart still wanted more. He wanted you to be more.
“Why are you telling me about this, Sunghoon?” you finally said, and he looked at you, his gaze softening.
“Because I like you” he said, his gaze falling to your intertwined hands “And I can’t stand looking at you getting lied to like this” he added after a short moment.
It didn’t hit you when he said it. It felt like a moment that passed by quickly, it felt like it wasn’t anything significant. But looking at him, feeling the coldness radiate off of him, and feeling his scent made you realize he actually said it.
“Don’t say that, Hoon” when the usage of his nickname slipped off your tongue, and he knew you didn’t mean it.
He knew you felt it too, you just couldn’t say it, right? There was this invisible string tying you tightly to Heeseung’s grip, holding you back from giving into him. You wanted to. You’ve always wanted to, and so did he. From the moment he saw you, standing there with Wonyoung on your first day.
Neither of you moved, caught in each other's closeness, both aware of it, both unsure.
Sunghoon’s slender fingers grazed your jaw, softly pulling you to face him. His lips were slightly parted, and you could feel his breath, laced with alcohol and cigarettes. His gaze was heavy on yours and you could feel your heart racing in your throat- but you couldn’t pull away.
He traced the curve of your jaw, his hand slipping down to your throat. His grip was firm, his lips grazing over the edge of yours.
‘Tell me to stop” he whispered, smiling when he only heard a faint breath slip from your mouth. “Tell me and I will” he smiled against your cheek.
“I want you so bad” he murmured, his voice low “You don’t even know” His nose was pressing against your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. You could feel him all over you.
All at once, the restraint you had, faded away. His back fell to the soft padding of the couch, your legs straddling his lap, keeping him still and open for you. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips, eyes dark and hooded.
His hands slipped down to your lower back, pulling you in closer, skin to skin. You felt dizzy, his mouth eating at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. He grabbed your waist tightly, moving you back and forth on his growing bulge.
His hands moved up to your jaw as you rode his clothed crotch without his assistance.
You felt shivers down your spine, an uncontrollable force pushing you for more. You wanted him whole, completely forgetting about the boy that was somewhere in this house, laughing with his friends.
But you didn’t want him to stop, finally closing the last breath of distance between you and Sunghoon, pressing your lips to his.
The kiss was sloppy, he met you with even more eagerness, your hand moving down to his chest, feeling his carved muscles against your fingertips. His tongue pried your mouth for entrance, deeping the connection between you. He held you as if he had been waiting forever for this moment, holding your body firm against his own.
You pulled away, your faces inches apart, your forehead resting against his. Your lips coated in his saliva, trying to catch your breath, he looked at you with so much passion and longing.
The regret started to settle in, but you couldn’t move away, even when his fingers caressed your cheek, you leaned into it.
“You should be with me,” he whispered, a hint of desperation coating his voice “We’d be so good together, I’d make you feel so good” he added, his hand slipping past the band of your small skirt.
“Sunghoon” you breathed out, your face falling to the crook of his neck as he played with the material of your underwear.
“You were made for me to love, let me please” he pleaded, his breath shaky.
You could feel his soft touch caressing your skin, his erection firmly against your clothed heat, it all felt like a dream. If you looked at him, it would all become real again.
“We shouldn't” you said, your words muffled by the silky material of his dress shirt.
He heard you, he didn't want you to stop, he was so desperate to have you, he wanted to show you just how much better he was than Heeseung.
“It’s not wrong when he doesn't know” he took your jaw into his fingers, forcing you to look at him. You looked so pretty and innocent, your lipstick slightly smeared around your lips.
Sunghoon pressed his hungry lips against yours once again, and you complied with his movements. The kiss was messy, sloppy, and at that point, he lost any control that was left in his body.
Dazed, he didn't even hear the door jerk open. Neither did you, focused on his lips that have moved down to your neck once again.
“What the fuck is this?” a familiar male voice shouted angrily, causing you to pull out of Sunghoon’s touch, scared to look at the man standing in the doorway. You knew it was him.
“Heeseung” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes wide as the realization started to settle in. He stood up from the couch, walking towards the boy who looked like a ticking time bomb.
You sighed, hands in your hair, no words left to be spoken. You felt nothing, Sunghoon’s touch still lingering on your skin, and Heeseung’s words in the air.
“Calm down, Heeseung” Sunghoon said softly, still unsure of the situation that surrounded him.
Instead of that, he got hit with a punch to his face, harshly stumbling backwards, his back pressing against the glass table. He touched his cheek, the sensation causing him to flinch. He could feel the taste of blood in his mouth.
“I’m sorry” he said, looking down, spitting into the glass cup that someone left on the table.
Heeseung smiled seeing his friend's reddish saliva slide down the walls of the glass.
You stayed quiet, hoping the same fate wasn't waiting for you. You wanted to disappear, already creating the monologue you’d spill out to Eunseok as soon as you came home. ‘Please, I need to go back to my old school’ you’d plead until he’d finally give in.
“I’m sure you are, Hoonie” he chuckled, slapping his forearm, taking the cup from his hand “I’m sure you regret it, don’t you” he looked intently at his friend who was struggling to keep eye contact.
Heeseung slammed the cup on the floor, the glass shattering across the wooden panels, causing both you and Sunghoon to flinch.
Sunghoon nodded his head, trying to stand up straight, but failing miserably as Heeseung kicked his lower abdomen with his knee.
“You think it’s okay to mess with your friends girl behind his back?” he asked, holding Sunghoon’s bleeding jaw in his fingers “Is it?”
“No” Sunghoon spat out, looking at Heeseung with his watery eyes, the pain in his stomach unbearable.
“Heeseung, please stop, just stop it” you pleaded, looking up at him from teary eyes, unable to watch anymore “I came onto him, it’s all my fault” you lied, trying to somehow fix what was already broken.
“Is that true” his gaze shifted back and forth from you to Sunghoon, waiting for one of you to give him a straight answer.
You nodded ferociously, while Sunghoon kept his gaze plastered on the floor.
“Get out” he turned to his vunerable friend, his lips dripping in blood, his hand holding onto his stomach.
The view didn't move him one bit.
Sunghoon looked at him and then at you, stumbling on his way to the door, slamming it shut when he finally managed to exit.
“You came onto him, yeah? Did you like it?” he chuckled, a devilish grin on his face as he looked at you, so fragile and afraid of him.
“I’m sorry Hee, I wasn't thinking straight” you explained, mentally preparing for him to strike you at any given moment now.
You should be the one asking for an apology, he should be the one saying sorry for using you.
“Get up” he ordered, extending his hand to you. You looked at him sheepishly, his dark figure standing over you.
You obeyed, taking his cold hand, frightened a little bit by his intimidating and unpredictable behavior. He led you to the bathroom that was placed just across from the couch you were making out with Sunghoon on, stopping in front of the sink.
He looked at you through the mirror, his lips falling to your ear “Spit”
“What?” you asked, your voice cracking.
“You heard me the first time” he said sternly, his gaze never falling from your eyes.
“W-why?” you mumbled, and his small smile dropped.
His fingers squeezed your waist painfully, his other hand shoving your face down towards the sink “When I tell you to do something, you do it” he groaned, and with your eyes shut, you completed his order.
“Wash your mouth” he ordered after a moment, his body pressing against your ass as he held your head in place “Wash all that’s left of him”
You just listened to every word he said. He let go of your hair, letting you look at yourself again. Heeseung smiled, his hands wandering from your waist to the band of your skirt.
“Did you like it when Sunghoon touched you here? Did you feel taken care of? Tell me, pretty girl” his hand slipped down lower, his fingers easily slipping past your panties, hovering over your core.
“I asked you a question” he said more sternly, as you refused to reply to him, your brain fixated on the feeling of his fingers on you.
“I liked it,” you replied truthfully, and he smiled.
“You like when my friends take care of you, don’t you? You’d let Jay fuck you, you’d blow Jake if he asked, wouldn't you?” he asked, and you winced at his words, the sound mixing with the way his fingers played with you.
“But you’d come back to me. You’d come back all swollen from their house to me. Cause you love me” he said, and you nodded, your hips riding his hand that was buried deep in your underwear.
“Want me to fuck you now? Show you who you actually belong to?” he whispered in your ear sweetly, his fingers still teasing your entrance.
“Yes” you managed to utter. Your heart was pounding so hard, a part of you craving Heeseung’s touch, while another one trembled with fear.
He turned you around, you could finally face him. His eyes were dark, his anger mingling in the air. His lips were wet with desire.
“Playing with my best friend, making me watch, you loved it, didn't you baby?” he laughed, his hand escaping your skirt, finding its way to your hips. He pressed himself against you, his hands wandering under your top.
“You’ll get what you want, don’t worry” he smiled, his fingers caressing your lips “That pussy wouldn't give it to you anyway” he laughed, catching you in a sloppy kiss.
“Get on your knees, baby” he said, his tone soft, a caring facade covering his internal rage.
You nodded, softly, sliding down to your knees in front of him. The dimly lit space made him look so beautiful, his harsh words leaving with Sunghoon a while ago.
“You can take it right?” he asked, unbuckling his belt, the material of his black dress pants brushing against your skin as he slid them down.
You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as he teased you, palming himself through his boxers. You could see his pulsing erection, the way his face twisted as he continued stimulating himself.
“You wanna see, huh? Dirty girl, you love every second of this” he laughed, his voice laced with innuendo.
Finally, with one hand he slid down his underwear, freeing his thick, hard cock. It slapped against his sculpted torso, and he smiled seeing your face light up.
“You like what you see, yeah? So fucking hard just for you” he asked with amusement, grabbing your jaw.
You nodded, finally being able to see him whole, raw in front of you.
He was now completely exposed before you, fully vulnerable and at your mercy.
“Good. Feel how hard I am for you. Touch me” he said, his eyes never leaving yours.
You reached out tentatively, unsure of your actions, your cold fingers wrapping around his rigid shaft, coating its surface with his arousal as you slowly stroked him. He was hot and pulsing with his heartbeat.
He groaned “Yeah, like that” his eyes closed with pleasure instinctively “Now put it in your pretty mouth” he ordered after a moment.
You leaned forward, as he pulled your hair aside, twirling it in his palm. Your breath tickled his tip, his teeth gritting as he watched you open your mouth for him, and wrap your sweet lips around the head of his cock.
He groaned, your warm mouth hugging him reluctantly. You could taste his bittersweet pre-cum on your toungue, the sensation of his hardness making shivers go down your spine. Your head began to move deeper down his length, finding it difficult to fit all of him inside you.
“Fuck, s’good, suck me nice and slow just like that” he moaned, slightly pushing your head down his cock. He could see the tears forming in your eyes, and it made him twitch in your mouth.
You did as he instructed, taking your time with him, finding the spots that made him react the most, teasing his sensitive underside. Hollowing your cheeks, going faster, Heeseung’s grip on you only tightening with every movement.
You looked so helpless and lost, your mouth full of him. He fought to keep quiet, his other hand gripping the counter, his chest heaving unevenly. Your head bobbed up and down, sending jolts of pleasure through his body.
“Fuck, keep going, I’m close” he whined, his lips parted as he guided you back and forth on his length.
His cock twitched, your movements becoming sloppier as you awaited his climax. You could feel him deep down in your throat, the feeling accompanied by his intense breathing and hoarse moans. His hand gripped your hair tightly, he began to thrust gently, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck” his voice was strained, his heart racing in his chest “Gonna cum in your mouth, take my load baby”
He groaned, his warm, thick cum spilling all over your tongue, Heeseung’s body shuddering as he emptied his load down your throat.
“Swallow it,” he said, his breath shaky as he rode out his high.
He pulled out after a moment, his cock glistening with your saliva and his juices.
“You’re so perfect” he breathed out, still trying to steady himself “Get up, sweet girl” he instructed, and with an ache to your knees you managed to get up.
His lips hurried to connect with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. Your lips were so soft and wet, your eyes watery. He wiped a salty tear that slipped from your eye. The look on your face took him back to the day he first met you, so pretty and untouched.
“Let me make you feel good now” he whispered, guiding you to the bed, his pants and boxers left abandoned in the bathroom, as he got rid of his shirt while locking the door.
He remembers just how much he fantasized about fucking you behind an unlocked door, hoping one of his sickly perverted friends walked in. But he no longer wanted to share you.
He yearned for you, needed you just like the flesh that wanted to knit itself back together after a fresh wound. His desire was so primal, so intuitive. He was peeling his skin back, the layers slowly unfolding before your eyes.
“Undress for me” he waited, his eyes tracing your every move, his body shivering as he watched you.
If you were ready, he wanted to make you shiver like that too.
You pulled down your black skirt, squeezing your thighs together as you were left only in your underwear. He came towards you, helping with your top half. He puts your hands up, the material gliding against your shaky skin. The fabric falls to the floor with a small thud, leaving you bare for him to adore.
He stood back, admiring the beauty of the girl in front of him. He regretted every spoken word at that moment, every curse, every joke and everything that led up to this moment.
Those words stained his mouth like a pomegranate, the lingering sensation still on his tongue as he took you in.
Heeseung’s lips crashed down on yours, his shivering hands roaming down to your enclosed thighs, spreading you open enough for his fingers to slide through. He explored you with rough urgency, his mind blank as he focused on you and only you.
He moved you down to sit on his lap, his hard on pressing against your ass. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Desperation sat heavily on his tongue.
“You’re so pretty, all mine, all this is for me” he mumbled into your skin, his fingers digging at your hips. Your teeth grit, hands pulling his dark hair.
Heeseung was so hungry for you. Hungry for your lips, your flesh, your bones that he wanted to intertwine with his. He was so drunk on love.
His hand slipped down your body, his thumb circling small circles on your clothed heat. He felt the wetness seep through.
He lifted you up, lying you down on the mattress swiftly. He situated himself in between your legs, his eyes scanning your body. You were such a pretty girl, so obedient and welcoming to him. You didn't protest, just did what he asked you to.
“Heeseung, please..” you whispered, and he could feel his heartbeat speed up “I want you inside me” he was amused by your eagerness, the way you were so direct with your words.
“Sweet girl” he murmured, his fingers hooking the band of your pretty pink underwear “So fucking ready for me”
He looked at you one last time, his fingers pulling at your panties, and with a nod to your head, he rolled the fabric down your legs, throwing it next to his abandoned shirt.
“Already this wet?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly “I barely even touched you” a smirk adorned his lips.
He could come just by looking at you, your greed only fueling his own desire to fuck the shit out of you. But he'd hurt you, wouldn't he?
Heeseung’s heart was racing just from the sight of you, his body reacting instantly to the view in front of him. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his pretty blue veins popping out from under his skin.
He aligned himself with you, coating his length with your arousal. His throbbing cock glided in between your folds, your body trembling at the new feeling, as heavy breaths slipped from your mouth. His tip nudged against your entrance, your heart racing. You had never felt anyone this closely, and nothing made you more excited than it being Heeseung after all.
“I won’t hurt you, yeah?” he laughed, his tone low “You think you can take it?” he teased, his tip slipping in and out, each time going just a little further.
“Mhm” you nodded your head, looking at him with your mouth slightly parted.
He leaned down to squeeze your cheeks “Yeah? And you won't cry?” you attempted to nod again, but his grip on you was firm. You just blinked eagerly, and he chuckled, shaking his head.
His tone was inciting, it could almost seem as if he was making fun of you. Yet no other man had ever made you feel so wanted, so good. No man has ever touched you like Heeseung did.
He pressed you down underneath him, holding onto your lower back, his lips wandering all over your damp skin, His touch was rushed, he wanted this just as much as you.
“Ready?” he asked, stroking himself, his gaze glued to you. You breathed out a short conformation, grabbing into his arm that flexed under your touch.
Heeseung nodded, his eyes dark with desire and need. His hands were shaking, his body trembling with the effort of restraint.
He grabbed onto your leg, and with a slow movement, buried himself deep inside you. You gasped, pleading for your body to adjust to the sudden invasion. Heeseung’s cock filled you completely, stretching you out in a way you’d never experienced before. He didn't move, waiting for the look of discomfort to wipe off your face.
You had wanted this. You waited impatiently for Heeseung to take away the one sacred thing you owned- your virginity. You wanted him to be the man that gets to have you first, the love and thirst for him overpowering any rational thoughts.
“Fucking tight” he breathed out, as his head fell back, a low, gutteral moan escaping his lips as he continued to move, his body conusmed by the sheer pleasure.
It didn't take him a long time to bottom out, groans falling from his slightly parted lips. The pain of his thickness was almost exciting, your nails digging at his skin, eyelids becoming heavy. His cock buldged in your stomach, making him moan out loud with no sense of embarrassment.
Your walls gripped onto his length “Feels s'good, shit” his thrusts were slow and delicate, not wanting to break your fragile frame “See this, so fucking deep inside you” he took your hand and pressed it down on your stomach so you could feel him.
“Does it feel nice?” he kissed your neck, his face hugging the side of yours as he picked up his pace.
You turned to look at him “It d-does” you whispered.
He rammed into you, his strokes becoming more frequent and sloppy. His face twisted with pleasure, a stream of euphonious sounds slipped from your lips, powering his own arousal. The music slightly entered the room through the shut door, the sound of skin slapping and heavy breaths overpowering it.
“That’s it, baby” his hands gripped your hips as you moved with him in sync, his body almost automatically responding to any of your movements. Your breathing became increasingly uneven and ragged “Just like that, just like that”
“Fuck, Heeseung” you struggled for breath, his pace becoming infernal.
His eyes ran down your body like never before, his face looking down at you intently, almost like a wolf looking down on its prey. His fingers continued to grab onto anything he managed, his mind going blank as the sound of your cries filled his ears.
The sight and sensation drived you further into ecstasy, his warmth so strong on your skin. You couldn't help the pleasure, a small, salty tear escaping your glossy eyes.
He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a desperate, rough kiss, his body shaking with need. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His thumb wiped down the tear from your cheek, his eyes hooded as he stared down at you, analyzing the state he had put you in.
“You’re so perfect, so perfect for me” he whispered, his body on fire, every fiber of his being consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy of being inside you, of feeling you beneath him.
Your moans become guttural, body shuddering with overwhelming pleasure at his words, at the thought of having him like this all the time.
“I’m so in love with you, fuck” he breathed out, his heart pounding in his chest.
He knew he was in too deep, knew that he couldn't stop this even if he wanted to, not when he felt like this, burried so fucking deep inside you.
“I’m close” you managed to articulate, your voice strained.
Heeseung nods, his body feeling like he’s on the edge, too. He speeds up his movements, his cock pounding into your tired core at an almost demonic pace. His own senses are overwhelmed by you, his mind and body consumed with desire and pleasure.
He gasps, his mouth moving down to your chest “I’m close too. Just a little more, you can do it. Just a little more” his voice a low, raspy whisper.
You grip his hand tightly, a low moan escaping your lips as Heeseung pushes himself closer to the edge. You were hanging on by a thread, desperate for release, desperate for him.
“I can’t hold back” he groaned, his thighs shaking, control slipping him completely “I’m going to fill you up so deep with my cum, baby. Don’t move”
Heeseung took your heart, his mouth stained red. He kisses you with that mouth, he’s all over you again. He can no longer control himself, each movement throwing him over the edge, his own bravery breaking as you look so much sweeter and smaller under him.
With one last thrust, his body shuddered as he shot his load of cum inside your pulsating walls. His body collapsed on top of you, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. He continued to move inside you, his fingers holding onto your body, helping you chase your own high.
You close your eyes, releasing your own arousal on his length. Your body shivers and arches beneath him. He groans against your neck, gripping your hip tighter, his own body trembling with pleasure and exertion.
He buries his face into your neck, his breathing slowly starting to even out after a few moments. He can feel your breathing start to even out under him as you came down from your own climax. He held you close, letting the waves of otherworldly pleasure wash over the both of you.
“You were so good” he whispers, his voice still laced with a hint of breathlessness “I love you, so much. I love you so much it hurts”
He couldn’t help it. Those three words have never fallen from his lips, and this time he couldn't blame it on the slip of his tongue. Every bone in his body, his flesh, his tissue, the sinews that bound him together, it flowed in his veins- the uncontrollable desire to love you.
His words struck you to the core. It felt so real, Sunghoon’s confession long gone as you couldn't help but reciprocate his words. With the way he cared for you, it couldn't be true. Heeseung wouldn't use you, he loved you, and you loved him.
You look down at him, and this time he looks much less scary. His eyes aren't so dark and hooded, his hair is messy, and his lips are puffed out.
It’s been so long since you first saw him, your mind completely swapping the first impression he made on you, to something much sweeter and beautiful. You remembered him so well, he was your precious, doe-eyed baby deer. He was never wrong, he was never the bad guy.
The world turned on him, he was innocent. He didn't have a drinking problem, he wasn't smoking too much, he just gave into his teenage curiosity.
He continues to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around you, his face buried into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, savoring the feeling of you beneath him.
“I’m sorry, baby” he whispers, his voice laced with a hint of shame and regret. “I’m so sorry” he repeats and you look at him, confused.
“What? Is everything okay?” you ask, caressing his hair, twirling small pieces in your fingers “You're scaring me”
He sighs, his heart breaking “Sunghoon was right. I told him to do it. I told him to tell you the truth”
synopsis: begging you to marry him, haechan promised you the moon, the stars hanging in the sky, and a few hundred million other things. but he never promised you the most important thing — the sun. and after all, that's all you wanted.
or, alternatively ── haechan has a plan of getting his grandmother's inheritance by marrying you, promising you that everything that was about to become his would also become yours. a lavish lifestyle, the liberty of being with other people — but you only wanted him. so what happens when haechan's plan backfires, leaving you both drowning in a sea of uncertainties?
pairing: husband!haechan x wife!reader
genre: fake marriage!au, marriage of convenience!au, f2l!au, angst, mutual pining, slowburn, smut, cheating!au
contains: fluff, angst, smut, slowburn, mutual pining, a lot of descriptive scenes (im so sorry). haechan is emotionally constipated, it takes him a billion years to realise some things. haechan is not the best husband, emotional neglect, emotional and physical avoidance. use of alcohol, cheating (mentions of, not actual scenes), smut (only between haechan and reader), oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, miscommunication, misunderstandings, rich!haechan, mentions of generational wealth and fraud, riize's sungchan (im sorry pookster), reader has a lot of insecurities and regrets.
now playing: who is it by michael jackson
series masterlist: here!
Your high heels click on the busy pavement as you make your way through the crowd. The underground ride was hell, surrounded by tired office workers and sweaty tourists, and you just hope that the good odds were on your side and your expensive perfume was still clinging onto your skin and clothes.
When Donghyuck sent you a text earlier in the morning, asking for an urgent meetup at your favourite dinner spot in town — a very busy spot uptown that is, a very busy spot that is very difficult to get into last minute, you knew that it was a serious matter. It was always a bit difficult to get in touch with him, or get a hold of him. He was busy with work, busy with dates, busy with friends, but you knew he always had the softest spot for you, and vice versa. And how could you not, after knowing each other since elementary school? He always found the most random times to be with you — be it on a random Saturday, coming over to your place to watch High School Musical for the nth time, or on a monday at noon taking you out to have lunch together during your lunch break. Or on a thursday for a friendly dinner. Like tonight.
You know how this is going to go. You’ll take your seats, get your orders taken, eat, chit chat about whatever’s too heavy on his mind for him to keep only to himself. “I’m a man of many secrets,” he once told you, “But somehow you know about ninety-five percent of them,” you can recall the genuine smile he showed you that night a few years ago.
“Hyuck!” You spot him playing nervously with the hem of his jacket, “I’m sorry I’m late, had to go home to change,” you give him a hug, and he keeps you close a few seconds more than he usually does.
“You smell nice,” he pats your back as he reaches for the restaurant door, “Let’s go inside, I’m starving,”
The atmosphere inside the restaurant brings you a sense of familiarity. The red and brown decor, the dim lightning and the candles around the tables, the faint melody played in a corner by the familiar pianist who also occasionally hums the tune, his fingers touching the keys in a gentle manner. It is so familiar to you, this is your favourite restaurant after all.
“Hate these candles,” Donghyuck grumbles as he opens the menu, setting his eyes on the wine menu. You know he always gets the same three things on rotation, and he always tries to steal food off your plate because your food choices are always the best.
“So why do we always come back?” You ask him with a smile, handing your menu back to the waiter who takes off with your orders.
“I like that guy,” he points to the pianist in the far corner of the restaurant, “He always plays some Tony Bennett tune,”
“And you like the wine,” you retort, watching as he nervously takes a sip from his glass.
“And I like the wine,” he smiles at you, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, which is odd — because he always lets himself go when he is around you. You know his true colours, no need to hide himself from you.
And yet you wait. You don’t ask him what’s wrong, you don’t ask him what was so urgent to actually meet you for a second time during the week, remembering very well how he took you out for ice cream after work a few days ago. You suppose it’s all about timing, and he’ll know when it’s time to tell you what’s bothering him.
For the duration of the dinner, you see him fidgeting with his fork and knife, looking at you with a glimmer in his eyes yet looking back down to his dorado as soon as you make eye contact with him. He tries to open his mouth a few times to speak, yet he closes it as soon as he notices your head perking up waiting for him to start talking.
You think you need to take matters into your own hands and force the words out of his mouth until you see him eyeing your brisket.
“Don’t even think about it,” you utter while cutting into the meat on your plate.
“Oh, please,” he cries, setting his knife down, “Just a tiny taste,” he pleads.
“I didn’t ask for a tiny taste of your dorado,” you shrug, chewing on the tiny piece of brisket on your fork.
“I would have given it to you,” he whines, pointing at you accusingly.
You look at him unimpressed, yet still intrigued. He’s not being annoying about anything tonight, which is very suspicious to you. So instead of trying to get inside his head — which he’ll probably let you do later anyway, you try to make small talk, to appease the tension just a bit. “So, how was that meeting yester-”
“Will you marry me?” He says — no, asks, but in such a gentle whisper that you think your ears are deceiving you. You stop mid-chew to look at him, as if the active action of chewing would ever impair your hearing. If you heard him right, you think it’s a devious, sick joke on his behalf.
“What did you just say?” You ask incredulously, spitting the piece of meat you had been chewing on, in your napkin.
“I said,” he played with the corner of his napkin, that was now sitting on top of the table instead of his lap, “will you marry me?”
“Are you insane?” You bite back, looking at how his energy deflates even more. “Did you fall today? Did you hit your head like that one time in tenth grade?” Your questions keep on flooding the atmosphere between the two of you, and even if your voice is low in volume, he hears you perfectly.
“Listen,” he starts, and you watch as he stops himself from continuing as the waiter comes to retrieve the plates from your table. He holds a finger up in the air, silently telling you to wait, and he asks for another bottle of wine. “I know this is sudden,” he stops when you scoff, setting back into your chair, waiting for him to go on, “But this is an opportunity of a lifetime, for both of us,” he says confidently.
“How so?” He’s impressed by your apathetic tone, he thought you’d be at least a bit more enthusiastic. He’s played all the possible scenarios in his head for the past few weeks, yet these last few days have been the worst. He hasn’t slept much, hasn’t eaten much, hasn’t been able to pay attention to his regular activities and hobbies that much either. The only things on his mind were you, and as disturbing as it may sound, his grandmother.
“I would get to settle down” he points to himself before looking at your annoyed and endearing figure sitting across him at the table, “And you will have the most perfect wedding. Not to mention the fact that you can have all the money you ever dreamed of. Imagine living that lavish lifestyle, buying yourself everything you have to restrain yourself from right now. Wouldn’t that be nice?” He smiles at you like a little devil who’s ready to whisper into your ear all the advantages of his daylight delusions.
“What are you even talking about?” You are truly in disbelief, looking at him being so calm so suddenly, “How would that even be possible?”
Suddenly you are well aware of the reason of his fidgeting, and why he stayed silent for the whole night. He didn’t know how to open his mouth and tell you a bunch of crap without you throwing your plate at his head.
He shushes you, and you scoff at his stupid attempt of trying to make you come to reason. “Grandma Lee’s inheritance,” he explains calmly, playing with the table cloth.
Your eyes are the size of saucers while looking at him feigning fake innocence. You’re sure this can be categorised as fraud in so many states and countries. The worst way this could go would be this idiot turning you in for attempted fraud and him leaving with all the inheritance he pretends he’s entitled to.
When you say nothing, just staring at him like he’s grown a second and then a third head, he sighs exasperated, throwing his head back in a sign of annoyance.
“Y/n, you have to hear me out,” Donghyuck pleads, bringing his hands over his face out of frustration. Your eyes fall on his weird and crooked pinky, reminding you of his funny and equally weird childhood story about what had happened for it to become so crooked. So fresh in your mind, you already know it by heart.
“But wouldn’t it be considered — I don’t know…” you make a pause, biting on your nails, “Fraud?”
His eyebrows furrow and then a second later his features relax, yet still being able to hold an unimpressed look in his gaze. He glares at you judgementally, as if asking you if you're stupid. You have the same expression, your gaze holding his, silently asking him who, between the two of you, was the real idiot in this context. Is he stupid for proposing such a plan, or are you the idiot who can’t see anything but the faulty side of his master plan? You try to figure out to what extent it can be considered fraud, promising yourself you’d be looking into this matter later.
“How would this be fraud?” He whines, a few heads turning around to look at the two of you. Certainly, people's ears perked up at the mention of the word fraud, and perhaps Donghyuck’s loud whining had something to do with it too.
You shush him, “How would it not be considered as such?” You speak through gritted teeth, trying to convey the message to keep his voice down, for his own good.
You two are having dinner in a nice, uptown restaurant, and you really wish you didn’t have this conversation right here. You were a fool for believing Lee Donghyuck had anything else to say to you except for a stupid idea he had been letting marinate in his pretty head.
“It wouldn’t be,” he insists, “Because anywhere we go we can pass as a loving couple,” he states as matter-of-factly. “Remember that time we scammed the baristas downtown during last year’s Valentine’s Day?”
When you say nothing, only bringing your elbows to rest on the table, he goes on. “Listen, I know for a fact that this is going to be a success. I’ve made plans and took into account all possibilities, and I am my grandma’s favourite grandchild. This is going to work out, trust me” he explains with determination, and you almost believe his words.
Except, you still have a working left brain.
“Again,” you sigh, “How is this not a criminal act in your books?” You try to make him come to reason, but he doesn’t want to hear any of it, waving his hands around in an exasperated gesture, “And how do you even know you’re grandma Lee’s favorite? Out of ten grandchildren?”
“I may have found her will,” he answers immediately, but it comes out more like a question holding a billion uncertainties. Your puzzled expression makes him continue, “When I visited her last year for her birthday, she made me fish for those papers in her home safe. The search for it was very bizarre, like treasure hunting or something, which you’ll realise in a second, it’s very ironic,” he takes a sip of his wine, trying his best to be as serious as possible in order to make you understand how serious he is about this. “She made me look for it in her mansion, giving me easter eggs and hints about where in the house it could be. And when I found it,” his silence lingers for a while, trying to find the best way to tell you the whole story, “This may sound very bizarre, I know, but she even had a riddle for her safe code. I solved it and there was her will, looking right at me. We looked over it together, and she made sure to divide all her assets equally between all her children and grandchildren, except the few hundred million dollars she has to her name.”
You blink once. You blink twice. You double blink for the third time and he scoffs, but quickly recomposes himself, remembering the purpose of telling this whole story, “Y/n, I’m being so serious right now, you have to believe me,” he stops briefly, his fingers drumming on the table following a rhythm only he knows, “In that testament I was the sole heir to her bank account, with that one exception,”
“You need to get married,” you remark.
“I need to get married,” he confirms, laying his hands flat on the expensive cotton tablecloth nicely adorning your dinner table for two.
Your eyes fall on his crooked pinky once again, your gaze sliding to the finger next to it. The ring finger. You think it could be nice to have a gold band to embellish his beautiful and slender finger. Donghyuck seems to pick up what's going on in your mind, and even if you needed a bit more convincing, he knows you're going to agree to his plan.
And surely, you think, with a few hundred million dollars in your bank accounts, and a man as beautiful as Donghyuck to call your husband, there's nothing that could ever go wrong. Right?
And, before agreeing to his stupid plan, you sceptically make him paint the picture for you.
“We tell people we’ve been dating for a bit, because we realised we are very much in love,” he explains nonchalantly as he stabs his lava cake with his tiny dessert fork.
“I genuinely think you’re deranged. You lost the plot to your own scenario,” he looks at you all worried, a smudge of chocolate in the left corner of his mouth. His stupid big brown eyes looking into your raging ones, not understanding the accusations you’re bringing him. “How would you explain this to people? To the boys?” You set your tiramisu aside, knowing damn well he’ll make an attempt to slide the tiny dessert plate across the table and devour the sweet treat. He scoffs once again, as if you’re the one being the ridiculous one here, but he stops himself from letting any word out, letting you continue rambling on about your concerns. “Hyuck,” you start, setting your hands flat on the table, just like he did before, “I think you’re forgetting something. People know you sleep around,”
“Slept,” he retorts, raising a finger in the air as to accentuate his statement, “Haven’t slept with anyone in a while, couldn’t bring myself to, knowing I’ll soon be a married man,”
When you say nothing for the nth time this evening — out of disbelief this time, he’s sure — he goes on, “I told you I already thought of every single scenario and possibility. We’re childhood friends, it won’t be that hard for people to fall for the story of how we realised we’re made for each other. We tell them we kept it a secret for our own good, we tell them we’re madly in love with each other and that we got engaged. We get married, and I want you to think about this, Y/n, let me paint the picture for you,” he says, raising his hands in front of his figure to make a rectangle in the air, “You get to have the dream ceremony I know you’ve always dreamed of, with a big and beautiful bouquet, and the most expensive and show stopping wedding dress. Your veil will cost more than double my suit and your shoes will have rocks more expensive than my car. We then move in for a bit in my — or your apartment, until grandma Lee passes, which by the way,” he stops to raise a hand in the air, as if to assure you, “Will be pretty soon, judging by the medical report I found in her bedroom a bit back. We then buy a house bigger than Brad and Angelina’s mansion. Think of it, Y/n, we could be the new Brangelina. Wouldn’t that be nice?” He slides your tiramisu across the table and excitedly sticks his forks into it, then looks at you with a glimmer in his gaze.
His plan could have been far worse than this, you think, yet the faint reminder of the fact that the two of your are going to be in a marriage is slightly terrifying to you. You always thought you’d get married to someone you had feelings for, whom you loved, and while certainly you do love Donghyuck in a very confined way, you’re sure that it is within the bounds of a lifetime long friendship, in which the both of you have gotten to know each other almost perfectly.
He sees you getting too much into your own head, and snaps his fingers right in front of your nose, like he’s always done since you were children. “What’s bothering you?” He asks, his tone genuine.
“What about…” you bite your lip, too afraid of hearing something you don’t really want to be hearing, and you’re not sure what kind of answer you’re trying to avoid. “What about dating?” You finally ask, and he waves his hand to dismiss your worries.
“Don’t worry about it,” he goes back to the tiramisu he’s put aside when he saw your concerned scowl, “Unless our families and friends find out about our dates, we’re free to see whoever we please and like,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, straightening your posture.
And then you see him, grinning at you like he’s the devil, “So what’d you say?” He stands up slowly from his chair across the table, and just as slowly he reaches for something in the right pocket of his slacks while still grinning.
And before you can actually register what is about to happen, you see him sprinting to reach your side, kneeling down in front of you and opening a stupid, black suede small box that — you think once he opens it to reveal its content to you — holds the Hope Diamond.
“Y/N,” he says your name, and you make a very big effort to tear your gaze away from the ring inside the small box he’s holding, “Will you marry me?”
And with a Tony Bennett tune in the background, with a diamond as big as your fist, and a man as handsome as Donghyuck kneeled in front of you, a man who’s promised you the world just a few minutes back, how could you ever refuse?
“Yes, yes I will”
“You’re what?” Chenle and Mark scream simultaneously, sitting in pure shock on the carpeted floors of Jaemin’s apartment.
You glared at Donghyuck, who was standing next to you, looking all offended by his friends. He grabbed your hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it gently. His fingers interlocked with yours, “I said,” he showed your hand to his friends, “We’re getting married,” his eyes softened while looking at you. Dang it, he’s a very good actor, you thought.
“How- how did this happen?” Mark stutters, his voice cracking. Chenle reaches for your hand to look at your engagement ring, and his eyes bulk out of their orbits.
“What the fuck, Hyuck?” He glared between you and Donghyuck, his friends, and the rock on the ring. “Did you guys see the size of this rock?”
“Yes, whatever, it’s the size of your head,” Donghyuck rolled his eyes, and you don’t have time to giggle at his joke as he pulls you gently by the arm towards the empty loveseat. You sit on it, and he pulls a chair close to your seat.
You look around at his friends. The energy in the room fluctuates and changes based on who you look at, Mark being still in shock, Chenle keeps looking at your hand, Jeno congratulates you, and Jaemin's displaying a huge grin that’s plastered on his face. The different reactions feel overwhelming to you, and you imagine how bad it will be when you break the news to your and Donghyuck’s families if his friends reacted this way.
“I knew it, you guys,” Jaemin claps his hands and shakes his shoulders in excitement, “I knew you guys were together!” He cheers, looking around the room, encouraging the others to join his happiness.
Donghyuck averts his eyes and clears his throat, fidgeting a bit in his seat. “Yeah, we were meant to be,”
“But how long have you guys been together?” Jeno asks with caution, his eyes a bit lost as he lets you know his curiosity and concerns.
“A few months,” you reply, “but we’ve known each other for so long that we feel we’ve been together forever,” you explain, moving your hand. You smile, amused noticing Chenle’s eyes still looking at your hand, straight at your engagement ring.
“It’s been a bit,” Donghyuck says, “Right after Y/n’s birthday party,” he smiled, his hand reaching behind you to pat your back, which made you straighten your posture immediately. The sudden contact, his warm hand burning its print on your back. The nerves and stress of breaking the news of your supposed engagement to the people you care the most for makes a light shimmering coat of sweat veil your skin. You recompose yourself quickly, not expecting the sudden contact.
You look at the people around the room. Except for Chenle, who’s still looking at your hand and then at Mark who’s still shocked by the sudden news, Jaemin is the only one who beams with joy.
“We’re very happy for you,” Jeno brings a hand to his chest, reaching forward in his seat as he tries to get closer to you and your supposed fiancé, “It’s just that it’s very sudden news,”
“Extremely happy,” Mark comments, smiling at you and then looking at his best friend, “It’s weird that we didn’t notice,”
“Talk for yourself,” Jaemin barks back with an upset tone, which makes you burst out laughing, “I’ve been plotting and scheming for a very long time,” he shuts up as soon as Donghyuck glares at him. He smiles back at his friend, and then he winks at you with a knowing smile.
Out of all of Donghyuck’s friends, you felt Jaemin and Chenle to be the closest to you. They were his friends from college, and you met them countless of times during the last few years and for occasional meet ups, but you definitely felt that Chenle and Jaemin were your friends too. Mark was awkward at times, but he always took care of you whenever Donghyuck left the club with some lady hanging off his arm, leaving you behind in the club with his friends. Jeno always lets you win during game nights. While Donghyuck tries everything in his power to cheat at every game and to corrupt Jaemin and Mark to join him in his cheating, sometimes even trying to bribe you to give him a property that he really needed while playing Monopoly, Jeno always lets you win, even helps you sometimes just to see Donghyuck’s cheeks lose all color when he realised he lost the games.
“Y/n?” Donghyuck touches your back once again, the sudden and unexpected physical contact making you jump slightly — once again. You look at him and you realise you blacked out for a bit, lost deep in your own thoughts about the guys. Realising you weren’t paying attention to him, he repeats himself, “Monopoly tonight?”
You looked around the room at the guys sitting around you with hopeful looks, and you agree before your brain can register completely. You would never ever pass on the occasion of beating Donghyuck at games, or at anything in life, especially now that you’re getting married.
You look around yourself, around the street, you look around at the people passing you by on the pavement. The still cold days of march make you zip your jacket up, your cheeks rosy and your nose and ears freezing even if the sun is out and hitting all the buildings around you. You rub your hands together in a pathetic attempt to warm yourself up, trying to calm the terrible feeling you have in your guts.
“Hey,” your head snaps to the side as soon as you hear Renjun’s voice, and you hug him tightly as you take a good look at him. Bucket hat low on his forehead, covering his eyes, you wouldn’t even recognise him if you didn’t know the timbre of his voice. “Are we waiting for the girls here?” He asks looking around, and when you nod he gets closer to where you’re standing on the pavement.
“Are you cold?” You ask, hugging his figure once again and rubbing your hands on his arms, hoping the friction will be enough for him to bear the cold a little bit longer.
He nods, zipping his jacket up to his chin and wrapping his wool scarf around his neck trying to find some comfort. You look at him, still hugging him, and you really wish you could tell him everything that’s on your mind, everything that’s happened in your life in the past few weeks. But for the integrity of your and Donghyuck’s plan you have to keep your lips sealed.
Apart from Donghyuck, who’s your childhood and oldest friend, Renjun is the second closest. You met him in college right before you met Yerim, and you instantly clicked with each other as soon as you complained about the mess in the kitchen at the dorms. You started as fellow complainers, you then met each other in the communal lounge downstairs while studying, and then you kept looking for each other whenever you weren’t too busy being with Donghyuck. He met Donghyuck in your kitchen while the latter was making your ramen, and Renjun complained about the mess.
“So you’re the one who makes the mess?” He was close to bursting a vein, trying his best not to kick the unknown man out of the dorm’s kitchen.
“Oh, hi” like a deer in highlights he turned around, scared by Renjun’s tone, before taking a good look at the guy in front of him, “You must be Renjun,” he cheered, changing hands holding the spatula and extending the newly free hand to Renjun, “Y/n told me everything about you, I think her exact words were ‘to look out for that Renjun’ guy,”
Renjun looked at him, his eyes bulking out of his orbits, “You know Y/n?” He asked incredulous, thinking that you could never be friends with such a messy person such as Donghyuck, “And by the way, she would never say that about me,”
“She’s my bestfriend,” Donghyuck answered before turning his attention back to the ramen pot sitting on the stove. “And don’t worry, the mess was already clinging to these walls way before I came by today,” And in all fairness, Donghyuck is a very clean person, a very clean man. Talk about the advantages of growing up close to a clean freak like yourself. “By the way, I’m Donghyuck, I live in the dorm just around the corner,”
“Oh,” Renjun mumbled, setting his own pots and pans on the second stove, “I’ve heard about you,” Donghyuck’s eyes lit up as soon as he heard the words coming out of Renjun’s mouth, delighted knowing that he’s someone you go around talking to other people about.
And since that moment you three stuck together. Donghyuck’s proximity to your and Renjun’s dorm, and the fact that he actually met the guy while cooking for you in your kitchen, meant he was always with you, joint at the hip, sometimes to Renjun’s dismay, because he thought Donghyuck was one of the most annoying guys he’s met. And then from your second year in college, the three of you moved in together in a shared apartment just outside campus and, although you became a trio, you’ve always been transparent about your friendship with the guys. What you and Donghyuck had was different from your friendship with Renjun, and the two of them hung out without you as well. It’s just your dynamic, and Renjun has always agreed to this, even if Donghyuck was a little jealous and possessive of your friendliness at times. As soon as you showed Renjun a little bit more attention, Donghyuck stole you away for a whole week. But it was always fine, it was never a problem for Renjun, for reasons you’ve never spent too much time worrying about.
You’re pulled out of your own thoughts by the two girls that approach you loudly, and Renjun sighs while shivering in your arms, “Fucking finally,”
“Why didn’t you guys wait inside?” Karina asks after you’re done with hugging everyone, “Couldn’t you guys get a table? Usually it’s pretty empty at this hour in the morning,”
“Wait,” you pull Yerim’s sleeve when she tries to make her way inside the cafeteria, smiling sheepishly as they look at you confused. “I know I invited you here today, but that’s not really where we’re going,” you explain, rubbing your hands together.
“So why are we here?” Karina mumbles confused, looking at the other two.
You point at the bridal boutique just across the street from where the coffee shop is, and their eyes follow the direction you’re pointing at, their heads snapping back to look at you, so harshly that you wonder how on earth they didn’t get whiplash.
“You’re kidding…” Yerim laughs so loudly that a few people’s heads turn around,
“Right?” Renjun’s uncertain tone makes you fidget on the spot.
Averting your gaze, you cross the street to reach the bridal shop, and your friends look at each other, still hoping for you to turn around and tell them you’re joking.
By the time they decide to follow you inside the shop, you’re already drinking from a glass of champagne and discussing about your dream wedding gown.
“You have to be kidding me,” Renjun mumbles as soon as one of the assistants comes over with a tray of champagne flutes.
“How are we here,” Karina downs the whole flute as soon as they take a seat on the expensive white sofas waiting for you to come out wearing whatever dress you discussed with the assistant you wanted.
“I think we skipped a few chapters,” Yerim sighs contemplatively and looks at Renjun who’s visibly shaken. Out of the three of them, Renjun’s the one that looks like he got hit by a bus. He doesn’t even understand why he’s sitting where he’s sitting right now.
“Last time I asked, she was saying she’s not seeing anyone special,” he mutters more to himself, but the two girls hear him nonetheless, “I don’t get it,”
And then you come out from the little room at the end of a narrow corridor, all three of your friends shut their mouths as you show them the best dresses that you’ve picked up while they were deciding if they needed to follow you inside, or if they should just laugh it off and walk to the nearest bar because it was a joke. It was a reality check for all three of them, and while the doubts and shock was still in the back of their minds and ready to resurface at any given moment during your dress fitting, ah’s and oh’s and sniffles filled the room while complimenting you.
“I didn’t even know you were seeing someone,” Karina spills out, having already downed three champagne flutes.
“I really don’t know how to feel about you getting married to a total stranger,” Yerim sniffles, the feeling of betrayal suffocating her.
You sigh, looking at your reflection in the mirror while touching your silky dress, and all your curves and edges, “He’s not really a stranger,” you whisper while looking at their reflection in the big mirror.
Renjun pushes himself forward, eyes as big as the rock on your engagement ring, which you purposefully left at home so as to not receive any questions as soon as you met your friends. He takes a moment to think of all the men in your life, your exes, your situationships. “Oh, dear heavens,” he touches the bridge of his nose as he looks at your reflection in the big mirror and then straight into your eyes, and something in his gaze tells you he’s gotten a faint idea of who it might be.
“What did she say?” Karina nearly screams into Yerim’s ears, the flutes making her lose all sense of volume.
You repeat yourself, “He’s not a stranger, you know him very well,” you look at the three of them, and you can feel Renjun’s eyes burn holes in the beautiful wedding dress you have on. “It’s Hyuck,” you whisper, not sure if they heard you.
Judging by Karina’s head snapping to her right to look at the others’ reactions, and by Yerim’s gasp, you can appreciate that they did indeed hear you.
“Hyuck as in Donghyuck?” Yerim makes sure you didn’t possibly meet a new Donghyuck in the span of a few weeks, “How did this happen?”
“How? That’s your concern?” Renjun pulls her by her arm, turning her to face him, “Your main concern should be when! When did this happen?” He addresses you.
“We’ve known each other for a very long time,” you start, “We were meant to be,” you hope Donghyuck’s bullshit excuses and scenarios reach your friends’ hearts, out of love for you. You know it sounds pathetic, the whole childhood friends to lovers fiasco, but you hope they won’t need more explaining regarding this, considering your and Donghyuck’s dynamics.
And as your biggest nightmare comes to reality, Renjun scoffs. And you recall telling Donghyuck just a few day ago that Renjun is going to be the one who needs the most convincing out of every other friend you two have. “Just stick to the answers I came up with, and he’ll buy it. If there’s anything Renjun cherishes more than his bickering with me, then that’s his friendship with you. He’ll buy it in the end, trust me.” And when you look at him bewildered, because you never thought of accepting such an explanation from him, he sighs and wraps an arm around you, walking you through the whole scenario again, “Tell him we’ve been together for a few months, I told you I love you blah blah blah. Stick to the scenario. Stick to the plan, Y/n” he cupped your face, swiftly kissing your forehead like he always does when you’re sick with worries, since the age of eight.
And so you do, you stick to the plan, to all the lines Donghyuck has instructed you to use, and while you play with your fingers all nervous and with trembling voice, you hope your friends are buying all of whatever bullshit you’re selling them.
“I knew this would happen,” Renjun claps his hands together as he looks at his two other friends sitting beside him on the small sofa, “I knew this would happen as soon as he ditched our study session at the library years ago just to spend time with you, when he found out some idiot didn’t show up to your date and you needed comforting,” this time he looks at you, straight into your soul, and you hope that he won’t be able to pick up whatever bullshit Donghyuck has fed you to convince you to agree to his plan. “You two are idiots”, he retorts.
And yes, you think so too. You couldn’t agree more. You and Donghyuck are idiots indeed, especially you. You, who’s willing to jeopardise decades of friendship just to make him happy, just to feel a bit validated by him. You still don’t want to admit the deeper reason of your agreeing, and you hope you’ll be able to ignore it and bury it deep into the back of your mind.
“But,” he sighs once again, and you’ve only heard Renjun sigh this many times when Donghyuck was insisting on having a bet and the loser would kiss the opponent if he felt like doing it, knowing damn well Donghyuck was going to purposefully bet on something that would turn out to be completely wrong and lose in Renjun’s favour just to kiss him, “I’ll admit that you’re very beautiful wearing that dress,” he points his head at your dress.
“You think so?” You beam and stand on your tippy toes, turning around to look at your own reflection in the huge mirror, using your hand to call one of the assistants over.
All three of your friends agree, and a drunk Karina even starts clapping, cheering you on.
“I can’t imagine the amount of stress you’re under with all the wedding preparations,” Yerim hugged you as soon as you stepped foot out of the boutique.
“I’m not,” you smile bashfully at your friends, “Hyuck suggested we should get a wedding planner,”
“Hyuck suggested,” Renjun imitates you with a mocking tone, already sick of your wedding talk after spending half a day looking for dresses for you, and bridesmaids dresses for your two friends.
“Are you going to act like this forever? I’m not even married to him yet,” you say with an incredulous laugh.
“For as long as you’re married to him,” he feigns fake innocence, and you only smile back, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, because you’re not sure how long that’s going to be. You never discussed this with Donghyuck, and Renjun has given you something to stay up all night mulling over.
You really don’t know how long it’s going to last, or what the whole outcome of it will be, but you can only hope for it to last for the longest of times.
Telling your parents about your engagement was easy. They loved Donghyuck, and he’s been around you since childhood, in and out of your house like it was his own. Your mother always kept a spare place at the table because ever since he was a child, he was unpredictable. Your mom took care of him whenever he wanted to sleep over, she cooked for him whatever it was he was craving, packed him his lunchbox whenever he stayed over and the following day was a school day, his own lunchbox that he personally chose when your mom took the two of you to the store, him choosing one with Crayon Shin-chan plastered on its lid, and you decided on a MyMelody one. Your dad never understood why he was hanging around your house so often, and then Donghyuck came on your family trip to the seaside when he was eleven, and he could see the dynamic of your friendship.
So when you broke the news to your parents, they were elated, they loved Donghyuck and couldn’t be happier to have him officially as part of the family in a few months.
Which couldn’t be said about Donghyuck’s parents. They liked you, and they trusted your family enough to allow their child to enter your home, and consequently, to spend all his free time there with you. But there was a line that should have never been crossed, and Donghyuck did when he proposed marriage to you, of all people. Donghyuck comes from a wealthy family, in which generational wealth was at the day’s order. Most, if not all relationships were transactional, but both parties were wealthy, and they both brought wealth into the marriage. Which couldn’t be said about you, because you didn’t grow up rich. You grew up in a normal family, you never lacked anything, but sure enough your parents couldn’t afford to change cars ever so often every time they pleased. And it was a problem for Donghyuck’s family.
“Can’t they oppose to our marriage or something?” You asked Donghyuck after the two of you left his parents’ house, after Donghyuck broke the news to them while holding your ringed hand up for them to see the engagement ring, and consequently had a fight with his mother right in front of you.
Your confidence wasn’t the highest in that moment, let’s just put it this way.
“Don’t really care,” he frowned, taking your hand in his as the other was holding the steering wheel tightly, “The only approval I need is grandma Lee’s,” he mumbled stopping at the red light, “And she loves you,”
The look in his eyes sent shivers down your spine, making you swallow the lump in your throat, and you remember that feeling so well even if it’s been a few months since.
And now, looking at your feet, the point of your shoes slightly visible from under your long silky dress, you hold on tightly to your bouquet made entirely of Casablanca lilies.
Your head tilts a bit from behind the partition keeping you safe from the eyes of all your guests, curious as ever to see you walking down the aisle.
You spot Donghyuck’s family sitting reluctantly on the right side of the church, his side, while looking around themselves with judgement. You’re starting to believe something bad is bound to happen when no one can reach Karina, who’s also one of your bridesmaids, and you’re also starting to regret your decision of agreeing to this plan when you hear people whispering as if you’re not standing a few feet away from them, albeit hidden by a flimsy partition.
“Where’s Karina?” You start to panic, thinking to yourself that this is a sign. This is a sign that this wedding should not happen.You made it clear in the past few months that you want your ceremony and celebratory party to be perfect, especially because Donghyuck’s family decided to attend, and even if you knew they considered you not to be the perfect bride for their son, you could at least show them a perfect ceremony. Which Karina is fumbling really badly right now.
“She said she’s on her way,” Renjun tries to calm you down, straightening the veil on your back so as to not have any creases.
“When did she say that?” You grabbed him by the shoulders, your nails hurting his skin even through the fabric of his suit jacket, “Oh my god, Renjun if you’re lying to me-” you’re interrupted by Yerim grabbing your hands, freeing Renjun from your grasp.
“You have to calm down,” Yerim pleads, shaking you slightly. “You need to relax, you’ll walk down this aisle and you need to be your best self,” she grabbed your cheeks lightly, and she resists the urge of kissing you on the cheek because she doesn’t want to ruin your makeup. You look so beautiful right now, even if you’re panicking out of your mind.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Karina’s heels clatter on the marbled floors of the entrance, adjusting her dress which was already starting to crease as she almost started running towards you, “I’m so sorry,” she looks embarrassed, holding the little bouquet Yerim hands over to her.
You let out a sharp exhale, instructing Renjun to go ahead and start the ceremony. Yerim smiles to you and reaches behind you to grab your veil, and gently lets it lay on your front. You hear the piano playing, immediately recognising the tune being played. You remember the day you were supposed to choose the music for the wedding march, when Donghyuck grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from the huge shelf of music in front of you.
“I know I said this was going to be your dream wedding,” Donghyuck starts, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “but I have a request to make,” when you nod, he continues, “Can I be the one to choose the music?”
His request took you aback, never expecting him to want to be involved in wedding preparations for a marriage that was purely transactional. To him at least.
“Of course,” you had said, nodding and he knew you were being genuine by the look in your eyes, so big and sparkly, a clear sign of your sincerity. “This is your wedding too, Hyuck,” you smiled at him and he felt a lump in his throat as soon as he registered your words.
He smiled back, and went for the exit of the music shop, but you stopped him by grabbing him tightly, “Just don’t pull any kind of Elvis or Hamilton crap in front of your family,” you retorted, serious as ever, to which he smirked.
“Elvis? Costello or Presley?” He joked, and you hoped he was only being annoying like he always is, and not serious. Seeing your sour face, he put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side into a tight embrace, “Oh come on, Y/Nnnie” he whined, and you kicked him as soon as you see pairs of eyes looking at the two of you, “Don’t you want to be part of a little musical act as you walk down the aisle? Like they did in ‘The Office’?” He whispered in your ear, and you can feel the annoying smile in his tone. He kisses your cheek, holding you even tighter, and you can feel shivers down your spine. Before you can react, you feel the arm that was holding you before, loosening its hold on you.
“I’m being serious, Hyuck,” you began, but he started sprinting past you and out of the record store. “Wait!” You screamed, trying to catch him, “I’m serious! I have rocks with your name written on them, and they’re begging to be thrown at your head!”
You heard him giggle as he picked up his pace, trying to escape your loud mouth.
And now, hearing the tune the piano starts playing, you understand what it was that he wanted. You immediately recognise Tony Bennett’s tune playing, and you think Donghyuck bagged his favourite pianist to play at his wedding, the one who works at your favourite restaurant downtown, the grace of his fingers unmistaken.
You hear heels clattering, and you know that Donghyuck is being taken down the aisle by grandma Lee, who vehemently insisted to be the one to walk her favourite grandchild on such a great day. And you’re surprised his mother didn’t bat an eye, but you know that’s for the best.
“Go! Go!” You whisper shout to Yerim to start walking down the aisle, and she holds her bouquet tighter in front of her, taking steps one by one.
When you go closer to where the aisle begins, you quickly look around the church, noticing the familiar faces sitting around, waiting for you to make your entrance before they stand up. You see Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin standing behind Donghyuck, whilst his other friends are sitting in the second row, allowing Hyuck’s family to sit in the first. You catch a quick glimpse of Renjun standing on your side, waiting for Karina and Yerim to join him, yet you feel a knot of uncertainty setting deep into your guts and stomach, and when you see Karina taking a few steps down the aisle, you take a few steps out of instinct and grab her forearm, dragging her back to where you were waiting to make your entrance.
“Y/n?” Karina whispers surprised, eyes the size of saucers, swaying a bit trying to regain balance after you drag her after yourself. “Y/n,” she insists, “What is it, sweetie?”
You grab your veil, yet still with care because you don’t want to damage it in any kind of way, and you bring it behind you head, because you feel the need to talk to Karina face to face, not hiding behind any type of fabric.
You look at the guests behind Karina’s back, or at what you can see of them since Karina is obstructing most of your view.
“I- I don’t think I can do this,” you whisper, skeptical, and Karina thinks she’s never seen your eyes this big in size.
“What?” Karina tilts her head, not understanding where this doubt is coming from.
But she isn’t in your head, she can’t hear your thoughts, and most certainly she doesn’t know on what grounds this wedding is happening. Everything is an illusion, a lie, and you feel the sweat starting to cling to the skin of your neck. As months passed, you really started to believe all of Donghyuck’s delusions, and all the lies, and all the endless conversations and discussions you two had about his masterplan, which unfortunately started to make sense to you as well. It was like the blind leading the blind.
And up to this point, seeing yourself wearing expensive accessories and an even more expensive wedding gown, seeing everyone who’s believed your lies sitting excitedly as they’re waiting for you to make your entrance, hearing the melody of the piano playing one of Donghyuck’s favourite songs of one of his favourite artists, it hits you. And it hits you hard, and you can feel your eyes swelling with tears.
“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Karina insists as she understands that she has a panicked bride on her hands. Not only a panicked bride, but a room full of whispering guests that start to grow more and more curious as they sense something is going on with the bride. And how can we forget the groom, who’s nervously biting his bottom lip as he looks at his grandmother sitting in the first seat, on the first row on his side.
“I can’t do this, Karina. This,” you move your hand around, pointing at the church and all the decorations, including your outfit and hers, “this is all wrong. Very wrong,” you whisper, and Karina’s impressed by your eyes not diminishing in size.
“But why, honey?” She presses, “Donghyuck loves you” she caresses your bare arm, her other hand holding the small bouquet stiffly. “And you love him too,” she’s trying really hard to calm you down, as she notices you trying to swallow what she thinks is a lump in your throat. “You do, don’t you?” She inquires when she notices that you keep looking towards a spot behind her back.
And truthfully, you do. And maybe that’s what’s scary to you. Marrying someone you love so deeply, but who’s only marrying you out of convenience. You love Donghyuck for all his flaws and faults, his annoying side, his bugging, his cold facade, but you also love him because, well, it’s him. You’ve grown up with him by your side, and you realise you made him your ideal type, influenced by his permanent presence and knowing everything about him. And how unfair is it, realising someone is marrying you as part of a fraudulent plan?
You look at Karina, nodding. “I do, I do love him so much,”
“Then what’s the problem?” Karina asks once again, seeing your eyes brimming with tears. When you don’t say anything back, Karina starts crossing her legs, fidgeting where she's standing. She looks behind herself, discreetly, as to sense the vibes filling the room. The few last rows of guests already turned around to look at the two of you, asking themselves if this ceremony is ever going to even start. “Listen, sweetie,” she reaches for you once more, grabbing you by your forearm trying to assure you, “Who cares about this ceremony, anyway?” She waves her hand around trying to convey assurance, although she’s scared shitless of what you might do and how this day could end.
“You don’t have to do this. We can get a cab outside and go away, if that’s what you want. You don’t need to get married today, who cares?”
You gulp, looking behind her to the waves of faces and heads wondering what’s going on. You spot grandma Lee’s head, who’s throwing questioning looks at you and her nephew, although you’re sure she can’t really see you thanks to Karina’s figure standing in front of you. And then you spot him, Donghyuck, tilting his head to look at you, trying to see you even with Karina obstructing his view. And his curious eyes meet your scared ones, and you gulp once more.
“Hyuck,” you whisper, trying to compose yourself as you break eye contacting with him, “Hyuck cares. And I do too,” you conclude, grabbing your veil fast, bringing it to cover your head and face once again. “I am getting married today,”
You use your hand to make Karina spin around, gently pushing her forward.
“Psst, Karina” you whisper shout, using a hand to move the veil a bit from your face so your eyes meet hers once again, “Do not say a word to Yeri and Renjun. Now go! Go!” You usher her to walk in front of you.
You look at your feet once again, and you touch the expensive, silky dress clinging nicely to your waist and bust, and then at the bouquet of Casablanca lilies you’re holding tightly in your hands. And yes, while wearing your expensive Vivienne Westwood dress, and walking down the aisle to The shadow of your smile, you are going to get married to who you think is indeed, the love of your life.
The first few months were milk and honey. Your dynamic didn’t change much, except for the fact that you were sharing a bed permanently. You’ve always shared a bed while growing up and consequently in your adult years too, yet now it’s different. You can look at him in his usual white tee and large pyjama shorts that show the tanned skin of his thighs and it dawns on you that he is your husband. Your husband. And all the times he wears his expensive watch before going to work in the morning, your eyes skip to his fingers, searching for his wedding ring out of instinct. He always wears it. You’ve never seen him taking it off in the past eight months, which can’t be said about you. You took it off every time you were cleaning around or washing the dishes.
Three months after your wedding ceremony, grandma Lee passed, and Donghyuck’s fraudulent plan came to a successful end. Donghyuck bought you a house, took you on holidays around the world, gave you anything you wanted and everything he thought you deserved. And he did all this while wearing the wedding ring. Donghyuck could see the dreamy look in your eyes, but he never looked too much into it, thinking it was all about the hundred million dollars you were now sharing between the two of you. You were still the same Y/n, and he was still the same Donghyuck, except for the fat bank accounts and the sharing of the bed.
To Donghyuck, sharing a bed wasn’t that big of a deal. He’s slept on the same surface as you multiple times before, the only thing that’s changed now was the fact that the two of you were legally bound, and he actually liked being able to say that he was married to you, and that you are his wife. People never expected him to even be in a relationship, and never expected someone as beautiful as you to get married this young, and he found it hilarious.
“I like being married to you,” he says, chewing on a piece of steak he grilled in the back garden.
You seem taken aback by his words, blinking a few times before clearing your throat, “You do?”
“Yes,” he smirks. That stupid smirk that you hate because you know he’s about to say something annoying, but love at the same time because it’s his smirk. “We’re still the same, we’re still us,” he swallows the bite, “except you’re my wife, and that isn’t so bad,” he smirks again and you have no idea where this conversation is going. He’s a bit tipsy, having already opened a second bottle of red wine, and except the two glasses you had for yourself, the remaining alcohol is in his system. “Why wait and date around to get married, when we’re right here? I have you and you have me, we’re locked in for life, baby,”
You feel a lump in your throat, and you’re not sure if it’s because he might have just promised you eternity by his side, or the fact that he’s just admitting to be settling for you instead of trying to go after someone he might actually love.
But you agreed to this, to the life he’s promised you. When you looked into his mischievous eyes once he kneeled down in front of you, you knew what you were getting into. Putting your feelings aside, being able to call Donghyuck yours even if he wasn’t anything more than the childhood friend you grew to love in a different way than the way he claimed he loved you back. The casual ‘be careful, love you’s you two threw in at the end of phone calls or when saying goodbye after school became to you much more than what they became to Donghyuck. But the gleam of hopefulness he’s always held in his gaze as he said he believed in you, as he tried to coerce you into committing fraud, as he promised you the moon, the stars, and everything else hanging in the sky, it really made you believe that you could have it all. If this all meant having Donghyuck next to you for the next years, decades, then it was all worth it.
And your routine as a married couple becomes just that, a routine. Waking up in the morning, making breakfast, and then he leaves for work because, unlike you, he still kept a job. And then you don’t know how to make time pass faster until he comes back home, to you. You fill your time with shopping sprees and activities you’ve never thought you would be picking up — going to the spa and playing tennis every other day. The months pass and you’re not sure how your life has become so boring. Before, you really had it all and you didn’t even realise. A job, your own apartment, your own car that Donghyuck got rid of after the two of you got married, just to gift you another one. You used to hang out with your friends multiple days a week, now it’s a miracle if you see them once every two weeks. Moving to a mansion at the outskirts of the city isolated you, and you relied on Donghyuck for all the support you needed.
As for your relationship with him, there really isn’t much to say. Nothing has changed, except that he seems to be less annoying, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve already become too used to him and his personality since the wedding happened. At first, you travelled together for your honeymoon, and you swear you were on the brink of divorcing him, but that annoying feeling has subsided considerably, and you have a faint idea of the reason why that is.
And then, you start to notice Donghyuck doesn’t come home for dinner time that often anymore. Hell, you could say that it’s a miracle if he comes home on time for dinner at least two days a week. Most times, he comes home too late and has to eat alone, while talking to you about his day and what his plans for the following day are. Other times, he goes straight to take a shower, telling you he’s not hungry and that he’ll take a bite of what you’ve cooked in the morning instead.
And tonight, it’s both. He promised he’d be back on time for dinner and then High School Musical marathon on your big flat screen tv. But the dinner has run cold, you’ve already taken a shower, and by the time you hear Donghyuck’s keys open the heavy front door, you’ve already played the first two films.
“Honey I’m hom-”, he’s interrupted by a gasp, and you can hear his heavy footsteps run down the hallway to the living room, “Did you really start without me?” He whines, and you almost cannot believe your ears.
“Please tell me you’re not serious right now, Hyuck,” you warn, looking at him.
Donghyuck looks at you, at your figure, at your eyes. You’re looking at him, and there’s something in your gaze that, for the first time in years, he can’t decipher. Your eyes are sleepy, almost droopy, a clear sign of your tiredness. Or maybe you’re just disappointed and tired of him.
He plops down next to you, looking at you apologetically, and the action makes you jump on your spot on the couch. “I’m an idiot,” he whispers.
“You are,” you agree, nodding your head as you return your attention to the high screen in front of your figures.
“Are you mad at me?” He tests the waters, and it only makes you want to punch his face more.
“Why would I be mad?” You scoff, bringing your legs to your chest, an action he knows you do when you try to avoid confrontation.
“You’re not looking at me, Y/n” he mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. He knows you too well. “I’m sorry I’m an idiot. I just lost track of time,” he tries to explain to you, but honestly you don’t care.
You think your blood pressure has gone through the roof when your ears start ringing and your palm is itching to be smacked against his face.
“Doing what?” You ask, and if looks could kill, Donghyuck is sure he’d be in great agony right now, just about there, on the verge of dying. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since he plopped down next to you, and Donghyuck knows better than talking nonsense and making you even angrier, because you always smell his bullshit a mile away.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, trying to dodge your question, “Was with the boys out for dinner,” he pouts, “I promise we can spend as much time together as we used to once I’m done with this project at work. Kiss and make up?” He tries one of his oldest tricks on you. Ever since elementary school, every time you were upset with him he would pull this stunt on you. The upset one being kissed on the cheek in a sweet and childish attempt to make things better with a gesture of intimacy neither you nor Donghyuck liked showing to other people. Only to each other.
And his attempt to make you at least slightly less upset with him is successful when the corners of your mouth turn upright just slightly. So he leans in, successfully invading your personal space, his head mere centimetres away from yours, and his chapped lips seem to leave a burning mark when he smacks a kiss on the plush of your left cheek.
And that’s not the only thing that’s left burning right now, as you sense a scent you don’t really recognise. It’s so sweet it burns your nostrils, that consequently flare as a result of the nauseating fragrance that has invaded your personal space.
He retracts himself, singing along with Gabriella, but you don’t focus on the scene or what’s happening around you at the moment. You look at him, as he’s slouched on the couch, his head propped up by one of the cushions on the couch. He seems content with you dropping the topic of his late arrival and the dismissal of all your plans for the evening, and you’re left wondering if he’s aware of the fact that he smells like fucking cheap perfume.
The smell is so strong up your nose that you’re sure there’s no amount of fresh air that can get rid of it, it’s the kind of smell you spray from a tester out of pure curiosity and it’s the worst fucking mistake you can ever do because the horrible smell will cling to your skin for the rest of the day. Too sweet and too strong.
You’re snatched out of your own thoughts when you see him turning his head to look at you, “I need to take a shower,” he announces, standing to his feet and moving towards the hall with the staircase to your shared bedroom and bathroom. “And after that I’m all yours, baby” he sings, and you’re once again left wondering, but this time all by yourself.
All mine, you repeat his words in your head a few times, but the only thing you can do right now is question if that’s really the case, or if it will ever be.
Days pass and you seem to be unable to get the nauseatingly sweet smell of that perfume out of your senses. You perceive it at random times, while cooking, while cleaning, and you know it’s all in your head, because you washed every piece of fabric that Donghyuck could have touched a few night ago with his skin, even after showering.
You don’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Sensing another woman’s perfume on your husband’s skin made your skin crawl and your heart drop to your ass. But is it even correct to call him your husband? He’s still your best friend, and that’s all he is meant to be forever. You can’t call him your husband if it’s just the two of you, because in all honesty it doesn’t feel like a normal marriage.
Because it isn’t, you’re reminded by your own voice of conscience.
And you know that’s right. The marriage is just a cover for when your families and friends are around, you don’t get to enjoy all the privileges of being married when there’s no one around, and you realise it’s upsetting you.
What the fuck is going on with me? You end up asking yourself. Why is this situation getting to you? You knew what you were getting into, you knew who Donghyuck is and what he goes around doing, you’ve known him for all your life and even helped him get out of unpleasant situations multiple times, so why exactly is it bothering you so much?
You’re pulled back from you own thoughts when your phone rings, and you pick it up to see who the caller is.
“Yes,” you sigh, not really in the mood to hear his voice.
“Wow, gosh, could you be more enthusiastic of my call?” Donghyuck’s tone is full of sarcasm, and you’re seriously contemplating if you should just hang up the call.
“I’m kind of busy,” you lie, “what is it?”
“I’m getting off work early tonight, wanna have dinner with me tonight?” He asks, and you can hear the car’s engine making noise in the background. “Y/n, hello?” He raises his voice a bit, thinking there’s no signal.
“Jesus fucking Christ, stop sounding like a hyena in heat,” you retort, bothered by the high pitch of his voice. “Pick me up at eight?”
“It’s a date!” He cheers on the other end of the line.
As much as you didn’t want to be in his proximity right now, you can’t deny the fact that you miss him, and spending time with him. You’d still rather watch a lion feasting on an antelope rather than seeing his face and hearing him talk to you about trivial stuff as if he didn’t come home smelling like another woman. But the truth is that you miss him. You miss his company, his presence, the idiotic jokes he makes and the smart comments he lets out when you watch a film or show him some new music. You miss him spending time with you, just being together most of the time, and worst of all is that you miss talking to him. You used to talk to him about everything. From family problems to boy issues, from uncertainties to future plans, and he used to be there for you, attentive as ever as if your words held the truth to all secrets and mysteries of this planet.
And you’re hoping that tonight it can be just that. You hope he misses you and your company just as much, and that he made these plans to take you out in an attempt to close the gap that has formed in your relationship. If you feel the distance and all these upsetting feelings and thoughts, then he must feel them too, right?
But the hours pass, and like some sort of sick tradition he’s trying to establish in your relationship lately, he doesn’t show up. You’re in a dress, you smell nice, you look spectacular, waiting for him to take you out for dinner at the new amazing place he’s found. Your stomach churns realising that he probably landed in that place with someone else as his date, and that’s how he discovered it, and you grab your purse before exiting the house.
You need to go out by yourself, and clear your head of all the insecurities you realise this marriage has given you. You used to enjoy his own company, and you used to look forward to having Donghyuck around you so often. But now it only irritates you, the thought of being in his proximity makes you want to punch a wall, because you know you can’t be near him right now. He knows you too well for your own sake, and knows if something is off the moment your gaze meets his, so it’s better to avoid him if you want to save your face in this pathetic masquerade. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? As long as people don’t see him going around on dates with other women, you have to go along with all of his actions. How would you explain to him that you know what he’s been doing behind your back? Because that’s what hurts you the most, his need of going behind your back instead of telling you about it all like he used to do in the past. Why did things have to change?
Your chest feels heavy and your eyes ready to spill some tears. You make your way to your car, you need to be by yourself. Not like you haven’t been mostly by yourself in the past months, but realising why this happened makes you want to disappear into thin air. And you need to be far away, in a place where you can clear your mind, far away from Donghyuck, his smell, and you shared house — where everything reminds you of him, what could have been, and a macabre reminder of what it actually is.
Donghyuck doesn’t know how he got home the night before, too much alcohol present in his system. But he knows one thing, you weren’t there in your shared bed. Considering the taste in his mouth as soon as he wakes up, he can only imagine how bad he smells and that it would have probably woken you up the moment his head hit the pillow next to yours, knowing your sensitive nose. Because of this, he thinks you not being here last night and this morning to witness his state is a blessing. But he also knows that he misses you. He remembers being cold last night, and when he reached for you in search of heat, you weren’t there.
Donghyuck’s head raises from his pillow, a splitting headache making him hit the pillow once again.
You’ve never been away at night, not since this marriage happened. Suddenly, he remembers he has your location, and he can check your whereabouts on his phone.
“She’s home?” He mumbles surprised, making a huge effort not to whine in pain as soon as he stands off the bed and his head starts throbbing.
In his actual state, he doesn’t know where in this huge house to look for you, but then his head feels like being split in half when he hears the clanking of some pots and pans downstairs in the kitchen, and his nose picks up the faint smell of coffee and pancakes.
“Good morning,” he tests the waters as soon as he sets foot in the kitchen, but the bright light coming from outside the open window makes him whine in pain, and he brings his hand over his eyes in a sudden movement.
“Morning,” you reply back, flipping the two pancakes in your pan.
He takes a seat at the kitchen island, just in front of where you’re working your ingredients, and you feel his gaze following you and your movements.
“How long have you been gone last night?” He asks out of curiosity, and he sees you suddenly frowning. He loves getting to talk to you face to face, because you can never hide your emotions from him. He knows every jot and tittle of yours.
“How long have you been gone last night?” You have a sudden burst, asking him the same question, and you grip that pancake spatula so harshly your knuckles turn white.
“What?” Donghyuck straightens his back on the high chair, looking at you confused. Seeing you so upset makes him forget about his muscles pain and splitting headache. Why are you so worked up for?
And then it downs on him. Last night, the alcohol, the company, losing track of time. The plans he’s made with you. He’s been away almost every night in the past months, and he never paid too much attention to you, because he never thought it would bother you this much. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him right now, and he knows he’s fucked up. You’re never avoidant unless you are really upset, or you’re trying to avoid confrontation because you’re about to open your mouth to pour your heart out. He’s witnessed this behaviour of yours multiple times, so he knows what to expect from you.
Except this time, you don’t start a fight, you don’t get teary eyed, you don’t tell him what has been bothering you. But he already knows. He’s been away too much, and he’s bailed on you a lot lately.
You keep your eyes on your pancakes and on the huge bowl with batter, not even once looking at him.
“I’m so, so sorry, Y/n,” he mumbles softly, and by his tone you realise he’s genuine.
“What are you sorry for?” You ask, as if it didn’t really matter to you. Except it really mattered, more than you’d like to admit. But you’ve heard him apologise to you on many occasions in the last few weeks and months, and you feel like it’s lost its meaning.
“For forgetting about you and our plans,” he answers. Ouch. Him saying it out loud hurt more than the thoughts running lapses around your head. “I’m really sorry for not being here more often,” he continues.
And he really is, because he’s gone about his life like he didn’t coerce you into getting married for his own good. He thought that the setting down part will be done, and then the huge bank account that would come with it would be an advantage. When he said nothing has to change in your dynamic, he meant it. He wants you to go out and live your life to the fullest, especially now that the both of you share millions of dollars. There’s nothing that can stop you, nor him. While you have a joint account, for which Donghyuck insisted, he also insisted you had your own bank accounts and own cards to use as you please. “No need for me to see what, when and where you spend our money,” he explained to you, and at that time you accepted the idea. The bigger, joint account was your safety net, because while you weren’t the big spender Donghyuck encouraged you to be, he liked throwing money left and right. He supposes it’s about the upbringing, and he knows that you still struggle to let yourself go on shopping sprees worth thousands of dollars a time and getting out of the house now that you quit your job. He just wishes you would let loosen up for a bit to enjoy what this marriage has brought you. Let yourself enjoy the money and the liberty of still doing everything you were used to doing before being legally bound to him.
“Y/n,” he calls your name, “Look at me,” he instructs, and you have to gather all your willpower to do as he says, because there’s nothing you want more than to tell him to fuck off.
When you look at him, he freezes in his chair. Your gaze is so full of emotion, so hurt, and he realises the tears he was expecting you to shed in your usual upset burst weren’t there because you had already shed them before, all by yourself.
He stands to his feet, and starts walking around the marble kitchen island to reach your figure. “My sweet Y/n,” he coos, pulling you in a tight hug. “Please forgive me,” your head rests in the crook of his neck, and Donghyuck’s skin tingles when he feels your breathing against his skin.
“You’ll have to do some grovelling before I can forgive you,” you mumble against the skin of his neck, and he lets a deep laugh escape him.
“What if I did the grovelling while having breakfast together on the terrace?” He asks, moving his head to look behind yourselves outside the window, checking the weather. “Sounds good?” He moves back to his initial position, his head resting on yours.
You nod, holding him a little tighter. “Let’s spend tomorrow together,” he proposes, and you nod once again.
“Before you start grovelling for breakfast, you need to go shower,” you let your arms fall, getting out of his embrace, gently pushing his chest to guide him out of the kitchen, “You stink of alcohol,”
He whines offended, but he knows you’re right. Before he can get out the room he stops in his tracks. “Kiss and make up?” He pouts his lips, closing his eyes and fluttering his lashes like the drama queen he is. No conflict is ever resolved without a kiss and make up situation. You lean in, this time giving him a small peck on the lips instead of extending your cheek for him to kiss.
The action visibly takes him aback, but he doesn’t say anything, and he exits the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face.
You look at the tv, at the bottles of beer scattered around you and Donghyuck, and the Chinese takeout boxes resting on the coffee table in front of you. At his long, tanned legs as he sits on the carpet next to you, his gaze fixed on the tv playing Notting Hill.
After a painfully long time, Donghyuck made an effort to be with you. No more excuses, no more hiding, he knows he’s been away and distant for a few months now, and after the euphoria of the wedding and the first few exciting months of being married to you had worn off he basically went back to his old ways, as if the past few months have never happened and he was still an eligible bachelor ready to roam the streets of the city almost, if not every night.
He knows he owes this to you, to the decades of friendship with you, to the love he has for you. He loves you more than he would a sister, but less than a romantic interest, if that makes sense. Maybe it’s the decades of friendship that have gotten him so attached to you, or maybe the fact that you’ve always understood and protected him the best you could. Whenever his parents fought, and he got dragged in these relentless fights between the two of them, being asked to pick a side, he flew the scene and came running to your house. You’ve always understood him, you’ve always shared everything with him, you and your parents made him realise what normality is like. A loving family, not everything being about money and power and jealousy. And that’s one of the reasons why he married you, he knows it. Apart from being the one to know him best, even more than his family and grandma Lee, you’re the one who provided him peace and tranquillity, the safety of being loved and, no matter how many times he fucked up, you were always there for him — even if you scolded him first. He can’t pinpoint the nature of all the feelings he has for you, but he knows that you bring him the kind of comfort and safety no one has ever even tried bringing him.
You feel his gaze on you, and you turn your head to throw him a questioning look. “What’s wrong?” You ask, a deep frown plastered on your pretty face.
He’s snapped out of his own thoughts, and looks at you like a deer in highlights, seemingly taken aback by the fact that he was so deep into his head that he didn’t even realise he was looking at you. He tries to conceal what he thinks was a surprised face when you bursted his bubble, and looks at you with fake annoyance.
“Y/n,” he says your name, sporting a serious expression, “I will have to be very honest with you,”
You turn your whole body around so you can face his, and you giggle looking at his face. Judging by the scene that’s on right now on the tv, you know exactly what he’s about to say.
“You hate Anna Scott?” You say it before he can.
“I hate Anna Scott,” he confirms, throwing his head back so it hits the seat of the couch, “how can you even like her, she’s the worst!” He whines, lazily pointing his hand towards the tv screen where Julia Roberts’s character is having a fight with Hugh Grant’s.
“Because!” You gasp, smiling sheepishly, knowing that what you’re about to say is going to annoy the hell out of him. “She’s just a girl!” You start, and Donghyuck is already rolling his eyes at you, “Standing in front of a boy!” You’re so excited to do your number, and Donghyuck doesn’t say anything but he turns his head to look the other way. “Asking him to love her!” You end your act by grabbing his black t-shirt and pulling him a bit towards you.
Donghyuck looks at you, at your hands on his chest, at your excitement, and he can’t help being surprised. He also can’t help the rosy cheeks he feels getting hotter and hotter, and the strange movements happening in the pit of his stomach. This never happened before, every time he was the one initiating any type of physical touch with you, or even when you give him as much as a hug back. But he never felt this way.
He tries to regain his composure, pushing himself up against the foot of the couch to an upright posture. He clears his throat as smoothly as he can, trying to remember what was happening before you became so excited. Ah yes, fucking Anna Scott.
“She’s just a girl,” he copies you with a whiney tone, rolling his eyes once again. “She’s an idiot, that’s what she is, Y/n. She’s despicable, so much that they should make a Despicable Me film with her as the main villain,” He argues, his smooth forehead now marked by a deep frown, his index repeatedly and forcibly poking on the carpet underneath the both of you, trying to make his point come across.
You pause the film, outraged at his hate for the character. It wasn’t the first time he hated on her, but he was never this vocal.
“She’s not that bad, Hyuck” you retort, bringing your legs up to your chest, your body still facing his.
He smirks at you, that kind of attractive, devious smirk he makes when he’ll start a debate with you just to crush you and your opinions like a cockroach in a sewer.
“Think about it, Y/n,” he says, his body turning towards yours, imitating the way you are sitting. “If the roles were to be reversed, would you think this way?” He asks, smirking at you, tsking in disapproval.
You look at him, weighting his words, and you’re sure your eyes are the size of saucers while looking into his smug ones.
“She plays with that poor man’s heart, Y/n. She plays this push and pull game I really don’t know why William loves her, it’s like she likes hurting him and he’s an idiot too for sticking with her for so long,” he sighs as if he was William himself, going through that kind of pain himself.
You look at him, unimpressed. It’s ironic, really, he's mocking the ones who play with other people’s hearts.
“Thank god William learnt some self respect, right?” You whisper back, looking at his side profile, waiting for his gaze to meet yours. Except, he never looks back at you, laughing at your words with his specific deep laugh that he lets out whenever he’s taken by surprise.
For god’s sake, he can’t read the fucking room, you think.
“Yeah, that too,” he agrees after he recomposes himself, finally looking at you, his facial features relaxed with amusement. “But it’s a cute ending, I’ll give you that, baby” he responds, going back to the smugness you so love and hate at the same time.
“Thank you for today,” you tell him when the film is over, the last song playing loudly in the background, making Donghyuck start humming it. He knows it by heart, with all the times you made him watch your favourite film and the countless times you put the soundtrack on.
“No, I should be the one to thank you,” he explains, picking up the beer bottles scattered around the room and walking behind you towards the kitchen, where you’re headed with all the Chinese takeout boxes balanced in your arms. “I know I haven’t been a present friends, or we could say husband, but I really want you to know that you matter to me and things between you and I haven’t changed,” he explains, and it feels like a sharp object is piercing your chest repeatedly.
Just another reminder that things are still the same according to him. Another reminder that things between the two of you will never change the way you wanted.
Sensing his piercing gaze on your figure, you nod, not feeling like letting any words out.
You leave the kitchen first promising to clean all the mess in the morning, but Donghyuck is close behind you, and you can still sense his gaze on your figure as you make your way in and out of the ensuite bathroom, and his eyes feel very heavy on you, like there’s something he needs to bring up and doesn’t know how, so instead he just looks at you until you’ll spare him a look.
So, you spare him a look. And he’s like a kicked puppy, sitting in the middle of the bed and you sense uncertainty in his posture. The easy going Donghyuck you know is nowhere to be found, and you feel obligated to intervene and ask him what’s going on in that head of his.
“Hyuck,” you say his name, climbing into bed, “Is everything okay?”
“Mhm,” he hums, but you can see him still being hesitant about something.
“You sure?” You giggle, trying to ease his nerves. He’s never hid anything from you, and he’s never taken so long to open up about something either. You never had to coerce him into opening up about what’s bothering him. “Hyuck, look at me,” you say, but it comes out more as a question.
He avoids your plea for a bit, and then he gives in and his gaze meets yours. It’s sparkling, but not with his usual smugness and joy. Instead, you’re met with an emotional look that looks like might be on the verge of tears.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, grabbing his cheeks, and you notice how they’re burning up.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he says, avoiding your eyes once again, even if you’re holding his head still with your hands. “I've treated you so badly lately, I cannot imagine how my avoidance affected you day by day, and as I said before, I know I haven’t been here for you and truth be told, I don’t want anything to change. I dont want to lose you, and I certainly don’t want you to resent me in any kind of way. I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he pauses in order to take a breath in.
You let go of his face, speechless, not knowing if you should open up as well or if you should let him be the only one to open up right now.
“I want you to know that no matter what, I love you. I really do, Y/n,” he grabs your face with his clammy hands, a clear sign of the nerves he’s experiencing right now, “I care about you, and nothing or no one will come between you and me, yeah?”
His eyes are sincere, but his words sting like hell. He says he loves you, but to what extent? You know the kind of feelings you have for him, you’re aware of them and you know their nature, but is he as certain of his, as you are of yours?
You’re so deep into your head that you fail to notice the kind of gaze Donghyuck is giving you, but when you raise your eyes to look at his face, you notice how his eyes are on your lips and immediately shift back to you eyes.
You lick your lips out of instinct, a habit you’ve had all your life when your boyfriends and partners looked at your lips before kissing you, and you close your eyes embarrassed after doing it in front of Donghyuck. After all, he’s just… your husband.
Donghyuck’s clammy hands gently squeeze the side of your face, trying to bring your attention back to him. You open your eyes and your gaze lands instantly on his lips, knowing his face’s proportion perfectly by now, your eyes sliding immediately without you not even registering the action. Until you feel him leaning in, his eyes barely open, and there’s a force that pulls you in closer to him, and even if you wanted to pull back you know that’s not what you really want. But is it what he really wants?
You give up on trying to analyse the situation right now, and you grab his wrists as you feel him getting rid of the mere centimetres of distance between your lips. His plump lips feel sweet amidst the kiss, the way they sit perfectly on yours makes you feel elated, and you briefly remember who you’re kissing right now. You cheeks feel like they’re on fire, but the kiss is too intoxicating to come to reason with your conscience, and you feel his tongue poke tentatively for access. You grant it, and he smiles into the kiss, his tongue now dancing with yours in a sweet saccharine waltz. You don’t care about the way you’re both running out of air, the way his kiss is getting more and more desperate, and the way you can’t stop chasing his lips now that you’re feeling like you’ve opened pandora’s box.
He detaches himself from your lips, the action making a popping sound that you’ve never found this hot until today.
“Just promise me,” you say, taking big breaths as discretely as possible, your throat feeling incredibly dry all of a sudden. “Promise me you’ll never run away from me,” you say, caressing his cheek, and he leans into your touch like a poor animal looking for affection.
“Okay,” he promises, pulling you into his embrace, and it feels like he’s promising you the whole universe.
But you should have known better than trusting Donghyuck. Is like ever since he married you he’s done nothing but hurt and lie to you, like the decades of friendship have never happened and like the past didn’t even matter to him. The promises he’s made in the wedding vows and the ones made to you personally and privately, have no value to him, you’ve come to this conclusion the next day, when he was nowhere to be found.
He was out the door before you could wake up to make breakfast, and you wouldn’t hear from him for the entirety of the day. He would come back home late, knowing his dinner had already run cold, not like it ever mattered anyway since you know he was having dinner out, possibly with some other female companion. He would come to bed, thinking you’re sound asleep, but you felt and heard everything. The sighs, the stirring in his sleep, the occasional smell of alcohol on his breath, the way he would keep his distance from you every night.
It went on this way for five days before you couldn’t take it anymore, so you moved your essentials out of your shared bedroom and bathroom, to one of the guest rooms. And it should have been this way since the beginning. Apparently being married has no value to the one you thought understood you the best, and what’s a signed paper in front of bodily desires? Nothing, that’s for sure.
This way you’re spared the icky perfumes he comes home having traces of on his skin and clothes, you’re spared the presence of a person that clearly doesn’t love you the way they claimed before, nor does he really care for you, you’re sure of this. Who breaks a promise to someone they supposedly say they love? You’re spared the sadness you feel when he doesn’t reach out to you all day and ultimately comes home at the crack of dawn, and the hesitation you feel when he sits tentatively on the edge of the bed before he decides to lie down next to you. And, most importantly, you’re spared the heartbreak.
The marriage is just a contract to him, you’re just some sort of friends only, treating you like a housemate who he gets the privilege of calling his wife to the outside world. No amount of money, fancy dinners, and privileges that his status brought to you once you married him is worth the pain you’re feeling being ignored by him out of all people. If it were Renjun, you’d understand. If it were one of the girls, it would be logical since you stopped hanging out that often with all your friends ever since you got married. No more meet ups in the middle of the week, no more wine parties during film nights with them. You changed when you got married, but you never thought shit would hit the fan so fast. You could understand if anyone treated you this badly, but not Donghyuck. The bond you two shared was too important, at least for you. But he doesn’t value it as much, that much is clear to you.
You move rooms, you stop making dinner, only eating small portions by yourself because, after all, everything would end up in the bin if you made dinner for him as well. You sleep alone at night, even if you’re cold as hell and you miss his body emanating heat, but you don’t think he’s even noticed your moving rooms. With the amount of alcohol he ingests before returning home late at night, you’re not even sure how he can remember where home is.
You start looking for sports courses, pottering classes, airplane tickets for vacations you’ve always wanted to go on, anything that could get you back on track and to stop you from being the wannabe perfect wife to someone who doesn’t even consider you his wife worth respecting.
Two weeks pass since you two shared the kiss, and Donghyuck’s still avoiding you like the plague. So you do him a favour and make it easier for him by hiding from him.
One evening, you’re sitting on the couch biting on an apple and watching a documentary when your phone rings. No one ever calls you, and in a pathetic attempt of hoping that he’s the one calling, you’re reminded of how much of a fool you are when you’re met with Jaemin’s name and contact picture looking right back at you. He never calls you, only talking to you through texts, so your stomach drops when your thoughts start racing, thinking that the reason Jaemin’s calling has something to do with something bad that’s happened to Donghyuck.
“Jaemin?” You ask, falling short of breath expecting the worst news ever. You suddenly regret the cold shoulder you’ve given Donghyuck.
“Y/n, yes, hi” he answers robotically, and you feel hesitation in his voice.
“Did something happen?” You push it, trying to brace yourself for the worst possible news.
“Mmm, just wanted to ask you something,” he says but it comes out more like a question. When you prompt him to continue, you hear him breathe through his teeth hesitantly, “I wanted to see if Hyuck’s home, maybe?” You know Jaemin well enough to know that he is conflicted and embarrassed by this phone call.
“What?” You ask incredulously. “Is this the reason you called?” You bark back, knowing that Jaemin is not one of the people you need to hide from when it comes to the real you, and your vulgar mouth with all the swear words.
“I didn’t know who to call,” he says but it sounds like a question once again, his tone defensive. “Me and Mark were supposed to meet him at my apartment tonight, and he didn’t show up. We thought something had happened because he said he’d come home to grab a quick bite with you, but he never came back and it’s been two hours” he explains, and you hear Mark telling him what kind of questions to ask you, “I’m sorry Y/n, just call me if you ever need anything”.
You sigh, once again disappointed. “I’m sorry Jaemin,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “And Mark,” you continue, knowing he’s listening as well. “I’m sorry but Donghyuck never came home, and I don’t know where he is,” you say, before bidding goodbye to the two.
What a fucking idiot, you mumble, throwing your phone on the couch. You pick up your apple but you can’t chew on it right now, not with the lump that’s formed in your throat, suffocating you.
Why is Donghyuck acting the way he is? To you, to his friends? It's like he doesn’t want to keep the cover up of this marriage intact to the eyes of outsiders.
Lost in your own thoughts you lose track of time, the first documentary ends just for another one to start. You fail to hear the car parking outside your house, but you don’t fail to notice the tingling of keys just outside your front door. Waiting for Donghyuck to enter and be as drunk as he’s made a habit of being, just for him to then skip checking the living room or any other room in the house and go directly to the upstairs bedroom, you’re incredibly irritated when you realise he’s so drunk off his ass that he can’t see where to put the keys in.
You stand to you feet, approaching the front door, and just in that moment the door opens slightly, showing a dishevelled Donghyuck totter forward in the hallway. He notices you, and he smirks at you as if you’re not ready to kick him in the throat for all the mixed feelings you’re feeling because of him. You’ve never felt more low, more pathetic, more disrespected than right now.
“Hi, baby” he rasps, and you know that the tone of his voice and the words he just spoke would have had you on cloud nine. But now you feel disgusted.
“Where the fuck have you been? And why are you so drunk at seven in the evening?” You ask, a deep frown plastered on you features.
He tsks, trying to stand upright, and that’s when you see it. At first you think it’s just the shadow of his shirt’s collar, but then you look more attentively, and a simple shadow can’t have red and brown and purple tones plastered all over.
A hickey? Your heart drops and you think you’re about to black out in about ten seconds because of the distress you feel right now. Another woman’s scent is something, but a mark on his body is another thing completely. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, but he’s too drunk to bring it up, and you know it’s not really your place to hold him accountable for this. So your internal war goes on and on, and on.
So you try to play it off by chewing his head off like a good friend would do. And you hope the hurt in your eyes goes unnoticed, but you don’t think too deeply about this because he’s too drunk to remember his own name.
“Where have you been, Hyuck?” You ask softly, but he’s too drunk to sense the amicable tone you’re using, and gets defensive immediately.
“Why the fuck do you keep asking me this, Y/n?” He barks, and somehow it hurts you more than anything he’s previously done to you.
The lump in your throat sets itself once again, threatening to make you spill the dinner and the apple you had tonight. But looking at Donghyuck’s dishevelled self, smelling him, and seeing the marks on his neck completely enrages you, making you find the voice to snarl back at him.
“Don’t fucking raise your voice because I’m on the verge of punching you in the throat, Donghyuck” you snarl through gritted teeth.
“You’re so sexy when you threaten me, and you using my government name, baby,” he smirks, trying to keep his upright posture the best he can.
“Stop being an idiot,” you push his shoulder, making him lose his balance for just a second. “Jaemin called me, Donghyuck,” you push him once again, this time his back comes into touch with the wall behind him, and the mention of his friend’s name snaps Donghyuck out of whatever dizziness he was in. His eyes are the size of saucers, and he seems like he wants to say something but you cut him off immediately, “It’s okay to neglect me, but get you fucking shit together if you don’t want your other friends to burst your fucking masterplan,” you say through gritted teeth, before turning around and going up the stairs, not sparing Donghyuck another look.
In doing so, you fail to see the look on Donghyuck’s face, you fail to hear the front door closing behind him, and the engine of his car getting turned on.
You’re suffocated by the wave of emotions you feel, they’re making you drown in your own tears. Tears run down your cheeks before you can sense them even brimming in your eyes, and the sobs that follow are a raw reminder of the unhappiness you’ve felt in the last months of your life. But now you can add betrayal to the equation.
You must do something to get out of this situation, or you’re risking losing yourself for a man who doesn’t really lose sleep over how much hurt he’s causing you.
Donghyuck is not sure how he’s managed to reach Jaemin’s apartment complex safe and sound, but he stomps his way through the building like he owns it. He just might. He’ll buy the place tomorrow and he’ll kick Jaemin on the streets for the stunt he’s pulled on his wife later this evening.
The knocks on Jaemin’s door reverberate so loudly that even Donghyuck is kind of intimidated by the echo they make.
The moment Jaemin opens the door, Donghyuck pushes through without caring about the force he uses to push at Jaemin’s chest in order to get him out of the way.
“What the fuck, man?” Jaemin asks in disbelief.
“I’m the one who’s supposed to ask you this, you moron,” Donghyuck snarls, pushing again at Jaemin chest, making him grit his teeth in annoyance knowing why his friend is paying him a visit. It must have something to do with the phone call he’s given his wife.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” he warns, waiting for the shitstorm that drunk Donghyuck is willing to start.
“What the fuck were you thinking, calling Y/n?” Donghyuck raises his voice once again, “You call my wife for what reason, exactly?” His gaze throws daggers at Jaemin’s head, but the latter doesn’t back down. “What the fuck is wrong with you, snooping about my life like you have no other business? Are you trying to ruin it for me?”
Jaemin can take a lot of things. Can take violence, palms of hands on his chest, punches to his face. He can take a nasty mouth like Donghyuck’s, and he can take the disrespect because he knows he’ll sort it out with his friend once he’s sober. But there are a few things Jaemin can’t take, like when someone's blaming him when he did nothing wrong, and when women are being disrespected.
So he walks towards Donghyuck, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and throwing him into the wall, keeping him glued against the hard, cold surface.
“Your wife was home alone, sad, and upset,” Jaemin makes a threatening pause between each word, pushing Donghyuck against the wall again and again each time, “So shut the fuck up before I push you through this wall. She didn’t even know where you were, you're drunk and you have fucking hickeys on your fucking neck. So, tell me now, who’s the one ruining it for you? Me or yourself?,” Jaemin lets Donghyuck go after one last push. But doesn’t spare him another look.
A week passes since the hickey incident and you don’t see Donghyuck. You assume he’s on some sort of vacation with someone else, and you don’t even care enough to look for him on the tracking app. You don’t want to make an obsession out of this, because you guess he’s with someone else, and actually seeing his contact on some exotic country’s map on the phone app would be your final straw.
So you try to do your own thing by packing a small trolley and calling a cab to take you to the airport. You’re not sure about the destination, but you feel like you need to do this to get out of the slums of your heart.
You buy a ticket for the first flight you set your eyes on once you reach the ticket till, and you make your way through the passenger lounges towards the gates. You already feel refreshed, and you nearly vibrate with anticipation when you think about the days that are yet to come and the alone time you’ll have to yourself, but this time in a different city. Alone and away from your supposed husband.
You reach one of the restaurants there, and you hate to admit to yourself that Donghyuck has engulfed every aspect of your life when you realise that you’re going to drink beer and eat steak at ten in the morning just because Donghyuck has always done this type of thing, “It’s the law of the jungle here, baby” he once joked when he almost got drunk off overpriced wine in one of the airport’s restaurants way before noon.
So you gulp the resurfacing feelings back to where they belong, the bottom of your being where you hope they’ll be forgotten and unreachable for a long time, and so you reach the bar, asking for steak and beer like you’d be asking for a coffee and muffin at the local cafeteria back home. Which again, you don’t need to be worried about because airports are like casinos, especially if you have a flight with a layover in the middle.
You chew your steak and you can’t help but think about how Donghyuck would love this, and there goes your appetite. The lump in your throat returns, and your stomach churns because of all the emotions you feel all at once. You think you need to go see a doctor, because your emotional state is already affecting your physical state as well.
“Excuse me,” you feel someone patting you slightly on the shoulder, making you flinch just a bit at the unexpected contact, “Is this seat taken?” The stranger asks again in a very polite way, which makes you turn around to look at him.
You’re met with a tall, lean figure standing a few feet behind you, his finger still pointing at the seat next to you. You suddenly remember his question and you jump in realisation, moving your luggage on your other side of the stool you’re sitting on, making some space for him to move and sit down. “By all means,” you look at him, gesturing towards the high stool at the bar, “Please take a seat,”
He gives you a smile in return making himself comfortable before picking up the menu to look over. He’s wearing a black wool sweater, his glasses are covered in water droplets that have gone dry by now, probably from the rain outside. His black hair falls slightly on his forehead, and he has to shake his head from time to time to prevent his fringe from getting into his eyes as he tries to look for something appealing in that whole menu.
You go back to chewing your steak, and even nearly cold it’s still delicious. You try not to think too much about the steak and who might like it, or otherwise you’ll not be able to swallow the bite.
“Is the steak good?” The man on your left asks, still holding the menu in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he giggles, realising that you didn’t expect anyone to talk to you, “It’s just that I’m not really sure what to order and I’m starving, and that steak looks really nice,” he smiles at you, but you probably look like an idiot while he was only trying to be friendly.
“You should get it,” you smile back, seeing how his features relax when he hears your answer, “It’s one of the best steaks I’ve ever eaten. The ones I make are excluded,” you laugh, cutting into your steak.
His ears seem to perk up at the mention of your cooking, now intrigued by you. He introduces himself, and you grab his hand, never breaking eye contact with him. His hand is warm and big, his long fingers wrap around your palm, squeezing slightly.
“So, where are you off to?” He asks after a while, curious to know a bit more about you.
“Chicago,” you answer, playing with your bracelets.
“What a coincidence,” he sips on the last drop of beer from his glass, “So am I".
Donghyuck doesn’t see you for a whole week. After the fight at Jaemin’s, he doesn’t come back home to you, but spends the night in his car instead. Not that he couldn’t afford going to some other place, but he was still drunk and the information Jaemin gave about you really did a number on him. Jaemin could punch him, break his head against any surface of his apartment and it still wouldn’t hurt as much as finding out that you’re aware of all his actions on the side of your marriage.
And the fact that he has some fucking hickeys on his skin, and that you surely saw them, makes him want to jump off a cliff. The remorse is eating him from inside, and he’s sure he’s about to get a hole in his chest at the amount of stress he’s been through in the last week.
But not seeing you for a week did Donghyuck some good. He had some time to himself to be really alone, in a hotel room just outside the city, and rethink his life choices and everything he’s done lately. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this amount of shame bubbling inside of him, never thought he’d be able to hurt you so much. He remembers your eyes from that night, when you shoved his shoulder, and it must have happened after you saw the marks on his skin. He feels like a fucking idiot, like he has shit for a brain and there’s no way he’s ever going to straighten things up with you, not after last week. And he honestly doesn’t know what was going on in his head in the past months after the wedding happened, and what made him do all of this, all of the suffering he’s brought you.
After the wedding, after the first few months after the wedding, after grandma Lee passed, he thought that things were just going to go back to how they were before he even saw that damned testament. He could go around fucking whoever he wanted, as long as he came home each evening to be with you, have dinner together and then go to sleep. Nothing between the two of you had to change. The casual sleepovers at one of your apartments would become a recurrent sharing of the bed, but now as husband and wife even if the titles were just for show. The hugs, the embraces, the casual signs of affection that the two of you showed each other wouldn’t have to change. Except, he broke all his rules. Yes, he did go around fucking whoever he wanted, but he never got home on time. He stopped hanging out with you, stopped being there for you. And he can’t help but wonder what the fuck is wrong with him, because the amount of heartbreak he feels right now while acknowledging the pain he’s put you through is making him lose his mind. Maybe he realises this too late, but he thinks he’s done it out of fear. Fear of acknowledging his true feelings. Maybe he never thought you would ever agree to marrying him, but again, he was really hoping you would. He doesn’t understand what’s going on in his mind, but he’s sure of one thing, and that is he loves you. Scrap the “more than a sister but less than a romantic interest” bullshit he’s told himself time and time again, he’s sure he loves you in the pathetic Anna Scott and William Thacker way, the hopeless way, the romantic and desperate, yearning for your attention and just for you — kind of love.
Maybe spending one week away from you does him so good, because he decides to go back home, your shared home, to be a more present husband. He’ll work from home, he’ll do everything for you just as much as you did everything for him but he was too blind to see — or even more. He’ll take you out, he’ll take you on vacations you’ve always wanted to go on. He’ll pick up whatever couple activity you want, and even if it’s not an activity meant for couples he’d still go just for you.
He comes home after a week and a half of being away, and it’s early in the morning. He stops by the supermarket and buys all the ingredients he knows he needs to make your favourite breakfast, and buys freshly squeezed juice from the farmer’s till you love so much, by the entrance of the supermarket. He comes home, and it’s still early, and thank god you’re not down in the kitchen making something already.
He puts some music on, but the volume isn’t too loud so as to not wake you up. He wants to surprise you with breakfast in bed. He remembers when the two of you used to eat cup ramen or whatever other thing you prepared, while sitting in bed at either one’s dormitory. He misses those times, but he realises that nothing has to change, everything can be like before, especially now that he’s gotten the cold shower of reality.
He hears the front door open and turns around confused, but before he can take a step and come towards the entry hall, you show up in the kitchen looking just as surprised as he does.
“What is going on?” Your eyes are the size of saucers, pointing at the spatula in his hand and the apron he’s wearing on top of his casual clothes. It doesn’t look like he’s slept home, otherwise he’d be in his pyjamas or suit and tie. But he’s in jeans and a fitting t-shirt. This time, your stomach doesn’t churn and your heart doesn’t drop.
“Were you not home? Sleeping?” He asks, pointing his thumb towards the staircase.
“No,” you answer but it comes out more as a question, “Were you not home? You should have noticed I haven’t been here for four days,” you retort, your tone not that friendly.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were avoiding me,” he lies. His heart drops knowing he wasn’t here to notice you were gone. “I just wanted to make you breakfast, your favourite,” he shows you the pan full of vegetables, scrambled eggs and grated cheese. You start salivating looking at the colours in the pan alone, knowing that it’s going to be delicious because Donghyuck is an excellent cook. “By the way, we have freshly squeezed orange juice in the fridge, your favourite type, no pulp,” he points his head towards the fridge.
“Jesus, we’re like the fucking Kennedys this morning,” you reply, walking towards the fridge to take the juice out. He laughs at your joke, and it’s like music to your ears. You haven’t heard this sound in a long time, and you have to think about something else as not to let your feelings resurface.
“We’re more like… Brangelina,” he jokes, and this time you’re the one laughing.
“So,” he says, sitting at the kitchen island across from where you’re sitting, so he can see you better. God, you’re so beautiful. Your eyes are sparkling and your cheeks are rosy. You’re wearing that coloured chapstick that tints your lips just the right amount, and it contours your features so perfectly his chest heaves with something close to euphoria. The euphoria of seeing you. “Where did you go these past days? Did you have fun?” He doesn’t want to know the details, because it’s a reminder of the past. The past that he doesn’t want to go back to.
He’s a new man, a married man but he’ll take this seriously this time. A new chapter starts today.
Hearing his question, you stop mid chew. What are you supposed to tell him? Are you two sharing this kind of information now? “Yes,” you reply simply, nodding your head, “I had fun,”
“That’s good, I’m glad” he smiles at you, and it is his most genuine smile. You know it.
“Listen, Y/n,” he starts, but swallows his words when he looks at you. He wanted to apologise, but he feels like it’s too soon and too sudden right now. He’ll do it when the perfect time comes.
“Actually, Hyuck, I’d like for you to listen first. I have something I want to tell you,” you sip on your orange juice, and Donghyuck stops mid chew, and you sense there’s something in his eyes. Fear?
“I’m thankful for you making breakfast this morning, I really am,” you smile at him, trying to bring him some reassurance, “But you don’t have to do this. You never make breakfast and you’re never around but, for some reason, you’re here now preparing my favourite meal for me. I don’t know why you’re doing this or what’s wrong,” you actually might have a faint idea, but you keep it to yourself, “But we can live separate lives. I’ll respect your choices, and we don’t have to interact with each other if that’s not what you really want,”
“What? No!” He interrupts you, frowning, “What are you talking about?”
“You keep avoiding me, you’re away all the time,” you start, but you can feel tears forming in your eyes. Damn it, that’s not how you wanted this to turn out, he doesn’t deserve any more of your tears. “So, I understand that your plan of getting your inheritance was successful, but we really don’t need to be around each other. I get it now, so I’m letting you know that I’ve moved some of my things out of our room, but not all just in case, you know, if our friends ever come by and they see us having completely separate rooms. It would look really bad for your plan,” you explain, drying your tears but smiling nonetheless. And the image breaks Donghyuck.
“You can go do your activities, by yourself, and I’ll do mine on my own” you continue, “but there’s one thing I want to ask of you. Please don’t bring anyone in our house. This is our house,” you make small pauses between requests, hoping he’ll understand what you’re implying. You’re willing to give up your happiness thinking of what could have been, for the peace of mind of coming to terms with what your life is actually like. It’s the only way you can still be with Donghyuck, and you have to make this compromise.
“What?” He snarls, a frown painted on his face.
“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him, but you need to get away from him or you’ll start crying in front of him, and that’s not what you want. So you stand to your feet, pushing the stool under the kitchen island. “You don’t have to worry about anything, okay?” You look at him, but your emotions get the better of you and your eyes are brimming with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the past few months, and he looks back at you like you just caught him committing some sort of crime, “I’ll go to my room now, I need to be alone” you point towards the staircase, “By the way, there’s some dry cleaning that needs to be picked up, can you go?” You ask, but he knows that it is not a question.
He gulps, seeing your back leaving the kitchen. “Sure,” but you’re already on your way to your room, and you don’t hear him.
The day goes by, and Donghyuck doesn’t see you around the house again. He respects your boundaries, so he doesn’t push to get you to listen to what he has to say right away, so he secludes himself in your — formerly — shared bedroom, trying to give you space just for today at least.
The following day, he comes back home after picking the clothes held hostage for so long at the dry cleaner’s — and immediately notices the silence. The dead silence, only the clock ticking making a sound that’s too loud in Donghyuck’s ears and too heavy on his heart. He supposes you’re still locked in the guest room, hence the disgusting silence.
He’s used to finding you around the house either cooking, either singing using a broom as a mic stand as you clean around; either the loud sound of war documentaries, or you crying while watching a cheetah eating an antelope on Animal Planet, either you baby talking to the plants you were planting in some pots in the back garden. But now everything is dead, dead silent.
He really wants to make this right. He rethinks about everything that happened in the past weeks, Jaemin knocking some sense into him, all the conclusions he’s come to, and the words you told him yesterday morning.
First, he realised he wants to make this right. No more sleeping around, no more hiding from you, no more hurting you. It took him long enough to realise he wants to be in this marriage for real, and not just because he was promised millions of dollars if he got married, and he chose the easier way since you were the only woman who’s been around him for so long, — that he now realises he was in love with since his teenage years. It was like a cold shower taken on a scorching day, the type that makes your heart stop for one second and then back to pumping blood quickly with an uneven rhythm.
Secondly, he promised himself, after many days of mulling thoughts in his head, that he’d be more attentive, and that he will try to make things right with you. He’d spend more time with you, as opposed to what he did until now — spending his days with women, too many to count, too many to even remember. And he’s filled with shame every time he remembers how he came home all dirtied up, their kissing marks left all over his body, his clothes stinking of their perfumes, and when he stepped through the front door you were there, waiting for him with dinner and wine, or patiently waiting for him to come home so you could spend some time together like you used to. But he was scared, and it took Jaemin’s shoving to make his brain start working. He’d never meant to hurt you, although he was trying to avoid you every day since that kiss between you two happened, because he thought it was weird. He proposed marriage to you, without any obligations, he never asked you to love him or be faithful to him, and you never asked him either. So why was it so weird? So complicated? He started avoiding you when he realised that maybe you were all he needed after all, and that thought was scary. He jumped head first into this marriage expecting the two of you to live your lives like you were used to doing, and now it seems that he might have done it because it felt right. And it had always been you, and only you.
Going up the stairs two steps at a time, he quickly reaches the upper floor of your shared house, reaching the guest room’s door, where you’ve been sleeping since he screwed up — you made sure to let him know this just earlier.
“Y/n?” He calls your name gently, hoping for you to recognise the vulnerability in his voice. “Y/n, can we talk?” He pleads, knocking slightly on the wooden door.
It creaks open, a puzzled Donghyuck opening it slowly as he looks a bit around the room, expecting you to be in bed or maybe doing some sort of activity you found solace in while avoiding his presence.
But you were nowhere to be found. He takes big steps towards the dressing room, noticing the lights are turned off, and then in a last attempt he tries to look for you on the room’s balcony. But you’re not there, and he’s sure there’s nowhere nearly as cozy and comfortable as this space for you to be hiding. And your shared bedroom is an excluded possibility, because that’s where he’ll be sleeping, and you didn’t want to see his face, it was for sure.
In a last, desperate attempt to find you, he moves quickly towards the bedroom, and he prays to god he’ll find you in there looking through your old clothes and trying them on like you always do every few months, calling him an idiot as soon as you see his face entering the room. But you’re not there either, and he can only sigh, sitting on the bed, thinking of what he can do to find you.
Would it be wise to call Renjun? He’s one of his best friends, but also yours? Renjun would take your side any second, and Donghyuck knows this.
“Let’s not,” he mumbles, throwing the phone across the bed and throwing his back harshly on the hard mattress of your shared bed. He misses you. He missed feeling annoyed by your sleeping figure stretching all over him in search for heat. He misses your perfume, your scent hogging his senses as soon as his head hits your pillow. Your pillow, the one he kept close in his embrace every time you woke earlier than he did. He misses you so much, he needs to feel you randomly giving him a warm embrace.
He can remember the scent of your hair, the one sticking to your skin, and he gets up from the bed to go to your vanity desk to spray a little bit around the room, just so he can find a little bit of comfort before he thinks of where you could be.
He stops in his tracks, sensing there’s something odd going on. Looking around the room, he can’t pinpoint it, but he suddenly feels it in the pit of his stomach.
He looks at your vanity desk, inspecting it from where he’s standing, and he looks for the bottle of your perfume that he loves. And then it hits him. It’s not there. Out of all the perfume bottles, the one you always wore — which he loves, — it’s nowhere to be seen. He jogs to the bathroom attached to your bedroom, hoping that you took it there when you were getting ready to leave, because you’ve done that before. Except, this time you didn’t place it in the bathroom. It’s as spotless as ever, as if no one has ever used it before. Your shower products are still lined nicely in the shower, your skincare products still inside the cabinets hanging on the walls. But not your toothbrush. His is sitting alone in the glass holders where they usually touch each other, as unhygienic as it sounds.
He speeds out of the bathroom, back to your vanity, where he inspects the products laying around. Your preferred perfume is gone, a few make up products missing from the little drawer you had arranged them so nicely in. His eyes dart to the jewellery box sitting on the edge of the desk, and he picks its lid up, inspecting what’s inside. Your usual jewellery is looking right back at his stupid face, as if it was mocking him for freaking out, but he notices some of the expensive jewellery he’s gifted you ever since you two got married, are gone. A bracelet, a few rings, a necklace and a brooch are gone. And then his eyes still on two pieces of jewellery, his heart dropping to his stomach as soon as he recollects his bearings.
Your wedding band and your engagement ring sit mockingly in the corner of the box, as if you had thrown them in without even looking where they landed, without even making sure if they made it inside the box before you sealed it closed.
The thought of you purposefully leaving your rings behind makes him want to hurl, his mind running desperate tireless laps as he tries to understand what’s going on.
And then it dawns on him. You left.
He puts the box back down with gentle hands, and he feels like the ceiling might have collapsed on him with the amount of heaviness he feels in his chest and stomach. Did you really leave? He wants to make sure before he loses his mind, so he checks a few of your drawers and the dressing room adjacent to the bedroom. He can see a few garments missing from each section of the wardrobe, noticing how one of your suitcases is also gone.
Not knowing what to do, he walks back to the bedroom, his hands frantically going through his hair and eyes closing tightly in an attempt to find a way to calm himself down. His eyes so forcefully shut that he starts seeing spots as soon as he opens them again.
He reaches for his phone, trying to look for you through your shared location. “God fucking Dammit,” he exhales when he opens the app.
You went as far as turning your location services off on all your devices, which you’ve never done before, not since he taught you how to turn them on ten years ago.
He dials your number in a miserable attempt to get a hold of you, but it goes to voicemail almost immediately. “Please pick up,” He doesn’t want to give up, so he dials your number a few more times before he gives in and leaves a message on your voicemail.
“Y/n, it’s me, please pick up,” and after five minutes of hopeful waiting, that maybe you’ll reach out to him out of pity more than anything else, he tries again.
“Y/n, it’s me, Hyuck,” he can feel his voice full of uncertainty. He clears his throat, “Where are you? I came home earlier wanting to talk, but I can’t find you anywhere, please call me back,”
An hour of waiting for you to give him a small sign, he feels like he’s losing his mind going back and forth in this damned bedroom.
“Y/n, please come home. At least call me back, tell me you’re safe. Please, please Y/n, call me back” he whispers into the phone before it gets cut off.
Donghyuck feels a tight knot forming in his stomach, only the thought of you not being safe makes him despise himself. If anything happened to you while being away because of him, he would never be able to forgive himself for doing this to you.
Noticing how time flew by, he checks his phone once again, even if you sent him a dry text he’d be happy because he’d know you’re safe enough to check your phone. There aren’t many places Donghyuck knows you’d choose as a safe place trying to put some space between the two of you, but he thinks of one where you could be at right now, and he quickly runs down the stairs and snatches his car keys, so distressed that he forgets to grab his coat.
There’s only one place where you could be, and he needs to see for himself.
“What are you doing here?” Renjun opens the door slightly, but then fully opens it for his friend to step in. “Not only did you steal my best friend, the one who was supposed to marry me at thirty-five in case we didn’t find anyone to get married to, but you’re now attempting to steal my time too,” he rolls his eyes at the man standing in front of him.
“Steal your future wife?” Donghyuck frowns for a few seconds, processing what Renjun said. “What if she was the one stealing your future husband? What, Renjun, wasn’t I good enough for you?” Donghyuck touches his chest where his heart is, tsk-ing his disapproval with fake annoyance.
“Your ways of causing me disgust are always unbelievable,” Renjun fake gags, crossing his arms.
“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Donghyuck sends a flying kiss, and Renjun is glad that they’re not standing next to each other right now because the two of them are close enough for Renjun to know that his friend would attempt to kiss him on any spot of his face that he can reach.
Donghyuck quickly drops the banter, curiously looking around the room, trying to find any of your objects that you could have carelessly left behind when he dropped by. In his head, you’re here somewhere, hiding from him. He hopes you are, and even if you came out and kicked him out the door, he’d be grateful because that way he’d know you are in a place where you are safe and sound.
And Renjun can’t help but notice Donghyuck’s dishevelled look, the locks on his head messily pointing in different directions, and of course there was the fact that he isn’t wearing a coat. He observes the way his friend’s eyes dart back and forth between various surfaces of his living room, and the way Donghyuck’s hands reach behind his head in an unconscious motion.
“So,” Renjun begins, “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Donghyuck half laughs.
“I’m not dumb. You’re my best friends and you’re married to each other. You haven’t pestered me with stupid memes in the past days, and I’ve only heard from Y/n a couple of times,” he sees his friend’s face lighten up at the mention of your name, “So what did you do?”
“Why do you assume I’m the one in the wrong here?”
Renjun scoffs, his friend’s almost offended tone not being that well received.
“You always do shit to hurt Y/n, so excuse me for giving her the benefit of the doubt,”
“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks again, this time sober.
Renjun sighs, “I had to waltz around the two of you for a very long time, I lived with the two of you before,” he frowns, moving his hand between himself and Donghyuck, “I had to witness times when you hurt her feelings, maybe unknowingly, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but you did nonetheless. I had to pick up pieces you stepped on carelessly, while she gave herself to you on a silver platter. No, pardon me, a golden platter. Your sleeping around, your mindless jokes about it, your little remarks that played with her heart every time you complimented her while making promises to her, and the way she believed you without any second thoughts as if you wouldn’t forget about her and the promises made to her an hour later.” Renjun inhales sharply, recognising how he’s getting worked up, but these are things he’s been dying to say to his friend, and now is the perfect time to do so.
“Don’t act dumb, Hyuck, I was there and I saw it all happen right before my eyes. Every time you promised her the sun, you left her hanging in the air, looking for you yet you were unreachable, avoiding her. I had to mend the pieces you fucked with, every single time. That’s why I was afraid when she told us she’d be getting married to you so suddenly and out of nowhere. I was scared for her wellbeing,” Renjun gulps, crossing his arms once again.
“So, whatever you did this time, I don’t care. I won’t help you in any way. I want her to be well and happy, and if she’ll reach out to me, I’ll be there for her. But you need to get your shit sorted, before it’s too late. If it isn’t already,”
Donghyuck inhales sharply, trying to digest every piece of information he’s found out from Renjun, on which he’ll mull over later when his nerves might calm down.
“Okay,” he surrenders, “I am getting my shit together, Renjun. I have been for the past few days,”
“It’s not long enough. A few days of meditating on your shitty actions won’t erase your wrongdoings,”
“I know, and that’s why I’m working on it, I’m doing this for her,” he starts taking a few steps towards the door, when he turns back to face Renjun, “If she calls you, just tell her to call me, please. I want her to be safe,” the sad look in his eyes are a sight Renjun never thought he’d see, especially from Donghyuck.
“I’ll see you around,” and with that, he gently closes the front door behind himself.
A few days pass, and Donghyuck has made an obsession with checking if you turned your location on again. You haven’t reached out to him, and neither did Renjun. He hopes that his friend would be considerate enough to reach out to him if he ever found out anything about you, but he’s left hanging.
He hasn’t been able to eat much, only a few bites so as not to get stomach aches from hunger. He already had stomach aches just thinking about not having a clue about your whereabouts, he didn’t want to end up on a hospital bed because he couldn’t take a fucking nibble. The bottles of liquor and alcohol the two of you had agreed on keeping on a neat bar shelf in the corner of your living room were almost empty. He’s never felt more distraught, and the liquor only helped numbing his thoughts for a short amount of time, for they all came back to his mind as soon as he woke up from his drunken naps. Donghyuck hasn’t been able to sleep much either, that’s mainly why he drained almost every bottle of hard liquor in the house. He doesn’t want to forget anything about you, but his brain is his biggest enemy these days, and the only thing that can help him out is the thought that maybe, after the alcohol numbs him real good and puts him to sleep, he’ll wake up to you standing in front of him, holding him tight and telling him you forgive him and you want things to work out. Because he can do this, he can do anything you’d ask him, he can make this work. He loves you.
He left you more voicemails and texts, and all went unanswered. By the time the alcohol’s effects wore off, his muscles were already starting to ache from the countless times he fell asleep on the big carpet downstairs, on which he chose to rest in hopes of hearing your keys opening the front door. He was like a sick puppy. Waiting for the owner of his heart to come back home, because he knows you’ll eventually come back. He hopes, at least.
He stands to his feet, taking the empty bottle outside and sitting it carefully inside the bin, as to not make too much noise. His head feels like it’s being split in half, and his muscles beg for a hot shower, which he gladly plans to take after popping two advils from the medicine cabinet in one of the bathrooms downstairs.
After using his favourite scent out of all your shower gel bottles lined up in the shower, he wraps a towel around his waist, walking back to the bedroom to pick up his phone. Your location is still off, and he decides to leave another voicemail for you, because if there’s any possibility of you listening to these voicemails, he wants to be sure he made everything in his power to reach out to you and make you realise how serious he is about everything.
One hand on his hip, while his teeth nibble on his bottom lip, he dials your number, waiting for the call to go to voicemail. Except this time the call goes through, ringing in his ears.
“Hello?” A male voice answers, and Donghyuck has to take a quick look at the phone’s screen to make sure he didn’t dial someone else.
This is your number.
“Y/n?” He inquires, a deep frown forming on his smooth forehead.
“Oh, Y/n’s in the shower right now, can I take a message?”
Donghyuck feels his throat run dry, and sharply exhales in an attempt to calm himself before he can regret anything that might come out of his mouth. Not only is the thought of your leaving destroying him, but to hear another man answering your phone might be the last thing he does before he goes insane.
Who the fuck is it? Who is this man? He can't help but ask himself. Who is it? Is it a friend of mine? But he doesn’t recognise the voice.
“Hello?” The voice on the other line rings in his ears, “Are you still there?”
“And who are you?” Donghyuck rasps, his voice raw with anger.
“Erm,” Donghyuck can feel uncertainty in the man’s tone, “I’m Sungchan. Can I take a message for Y/n?”
The mention of your name out of his mouth makes Donghyuck see red before his eyes.
“Yes, Sungchan,” Donghyuck spits out with anger, “Can you tell Y/n to call home as soon as possible? This is her husband, Donghyuck, by the way,” after which he hangs up, throwing the phone across the room, not even bothering to pick it up again.
You get out of the shower, stepping on the hotel’s slippers, feeling refreshed after getting rid of the sweat residues on your skin, when you feel a knock on the bathroom door. You open it wide, seeing a frowning Sungchan leaning on the doorframe, clearly bothered by something.
“Sungchan?” You ask, combing your fingers through your wet hair. “Is everything okay?”
You see him giving you a conflicted look, and he bites on his lip. “Your husband called. Why didn’t you tell me that you’re married?” He asks you, and you think the sky falls suddenly. It would be easier if he wasn’t looking at you right now, but his gaze is piercing, cold, and hurt.
“What?” You ask, but not because you didn’t hear it the first time, but because you need time to think how to explain everything to him.
Yes, you omitted this detail when you hooked up with Sungchan the first time, but it’s not like he deliberately asked you, ‘are you married?’. You and him were on the same flight to Chicago. You liked the attention he gave you at the airport, and he offered to show you around if you didn’t already have an itinerary planned out. So you accepted, and between some museums, jazz bars, and nice restaurants, you found yourself in bed with him.
With him, you got rid of all the stress you accumulated in the past months, and for the first time in years you even felt loved and appreciated.
Apart from the shame and regret of not being genuine with Sungchan from the very beginning that’s eating at you, there’s also the way he’s looking at you right now. Betrayed, hurt, on the verge of tears.
How did Donghyuck’s hurting lead you into hurting other people? You knew Sungchan likes you, because he explicitly told you so, so why did you have to pull the same card your husband played on you?
“Sungchan,” you start, but no words can make up for the damage already done, because he pushes away from the doorway, going back to look for his clothes.
“I don’t want to hear it,” his voice trembles, sliding the pair of jeans on his long legs. “I can’t believe you did this to me,” he’s mostly talking to himself, and you’re left in the corner of the room in your towel only, watching as he gathers his things from your hotel room.
“Never look for me again,” he walks past you, towards the door, not looking at you even once, “Go back to your husband, Y/n,”
And of course, what other fucking choice do you have?
You push your trolley through the entrance hallway, leaving it at the foot of the staircase, making your way towards the living room. You enter the room, empty and messy, and you can see that Donghyuck has been spending more time at home now than he did before. His clothes are scattered on the couch, a sock is thrown carelessly behind one of the houseplants while the other is resting under the coffee table. He’s not here, but you can sense the smell of steak, and you can hear him humming something in the other room.
You enter the kitchen, that’s empty and messy, and then you hear Donghyuck’s voice ring a bit louder in your ears. You walk around the kitchen island, sliding the kitchen door open and you exit on the patio, scaring Donghyuck.
He’s grilling steak on the patio, dancing around with a huge grilling fork, getting scared when he heard the door slide shut behind you.
“You’re home, baby,” he uses his saccharine voice, and you throw your phone on the wooden table next to the grill.
“Cut the crap,” you snarl, pulling a chair to sit, and you plop down while pointing at your phone, “I called you, you didn’t pick up,” you bite on your cheek, in a desperate attempt to keep your cool and not blow this fucking patio up.
“I didn’t pick up, nope” he makes a popping sound at the end, using a piece of cardboard to vent the meat on the grill.
“Then why all the voicemails pleading me to call you back? If you can’t fucking pick up?” You bark, but he doesn’t flinch at your tone.
“I didn’t pick up because I broke it,” he explains calmly before turning around to look at you, “I sort of got upset after a phone call. How’s your friend, by the way? Sungchan, was it?” He asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Do not fucking say his name,” you threaten, looking at him like you’re ready to jump him.
“Do not fucking look at me like that, Y/n” he threatens back, placing his hands on the wooden table. “I’m you fucking husband!” He raises his voice.
“And I’m your fucking wife!” You scream at him, while standing to your feet. Your nose is flaring with anger, and when your gaze meets his you feel the familiar suffocating lump in your throat. “In the last year, how many times did you consider yourself to be my husband?” You ask accusingly, pointing a finger in his direction. “How many times did you think you had a wife waiting for you at home, when you were with other women?” You cry out, biting on your lip in order to not let all the sobs run past your lips. “How many times, Donghyuck, did I turn a blind eye on your indiscretions? The times you came back home smelling like other women, marks on your skin, the amount of times you didn’t come home for long periods of time?”
“So you think you’re better than me if you just run away with another man?” He raises his voice at you once again, slamming a hand on the wooden table.
You’re honestly appalled at how he’s trying to turn this on you.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask calmly, your tears not flowing anymore. “You’re trying to blame me but you don’t see the root of the problem here. So it’s okay for you to do it for months, and then when I do it once it’s suddenly a problem?” You can’t look at him any more, feeling too upset to even spare him a glance.
You notice the alcohol bottles sitting around the bin, and you suppose they’re there because the bin is already full.
“Are you drunk?” You ask in disbelief. You swear he seemed sober when he shouted at you just a few minutes ago.
“Do I look like I’m fucking drunk right now?” He asks exasperated. “Not now anyway, but I did drink waiting for your fucking call, Y/n” he points the grilling fork in your direction, as if he’s accusing you of something. “I waited, and I waited, and I waited for you call, but you just ignored me. You come home one day telling me that you don’t care who I’m with just for you to secretly leave to get with another man. What kind of pure and innocent role are you playing, Y/n? Telling me it’s alright just so you have your peace of mind while doing the same thing I do, because you thought you laid your cards on the table and allowing me to do it would exempt you from guilt?” He accuses you with an extremely calm tone.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Y/n, but what was I supposed to do? You left your fucking rings at home and took off!” He shouts again, and you realise you’ve never had a fight this intense with Donghyuck, with so much shouting. You don’t even think you’ve heard Donghyuck’s shout except for the one he lets out when he’s trying to be funny. Two completely different tones.
“So what? You kept your ring on when you were fucking around?” You bite back, and he doesn’t say anything else.
You decide there’s no way you want to continue the fight. At this point you’re not sure if whatever you and Donghyuck have is worth fighting for. You turn around, not even looking at him again, and go towards the staircase to go to your room.
“Where are you going? Y/n?” He comes after you, calling your name and trying to grab you by the arm, “I made steak!”
“You can shove it up you ass!” You retort, getting out of his grasp, going up on the stairs and leaving him like a lost puppy.
You sit on the carpet at the foot of your bed, not even bothering to turn the lights on. You know you want to be alone right now, but you know that you’d rather be alone in this huge house instead of having Donghyuck downstairs.
You feel like the love you carry for Donghyuck is consuming you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. He can be the biggest idiot in this world and you would still love him. He can be the one to have a huge screaming match with and you’d still forgive him, and love him. Your pain is amplified when you recall the fight you two just had, because everything he said earlier is true. You told him to do whatever he wants because you knew you could go find solace in Sungchan's presence, you wouldn’t be alone anymore, and you could start doing whatever Donghyuck was doing without thinking twice. Just like he did. And what pains you the most is the fact that he made it sound like you were the one who cheated on him first.
And okay, you’re technically not together. But would it be so hard for him to acknowledge you once in a while? Would it be hard for him to stop thinking with his dick and just open his eyes to see that you’re right here, everything he would ask for, you’d give him on a golden platter. But again, maybe he doesn’t feel the same way towards you, and it’s better not to know this instead of having your feelings hurt to a point of no return.
And Sungchan. That poor soul. You feel so sorry for treating him like this, and you feel even worst for making him feel the same way Donghyuck has made you feel up to this point. Sungchan left so abruptly that you didn’t have the chance to tell him the truth. Yes, your husband called, but guess what? He’s not really your husband. It sounds pathetic. You wish you could at lest have told him the truth, about the nature of the relationship between you and Donghyuck, but you guess you had it coming — because not once did you think about bringing your marriage, albeit fake, up to Sungchan, and you had more occasions than you can count on two hands.
You feel conflicted. You feel like the best thing for you would be getting away from Donghyuck as soon as possible. He brings out the worst side of you. The jealous, possessive side, that really has no business existing. Because it’s a fake one, this marriage shouldn’t make you feel like a miserable fool. It shouldn’t affect you the way it does, you’ve only known sadness and jealousy in the past months and it’s really not fair, not when Donghyuck doesn’t care about you and your marriage as much as you do. But at the same time, even if you think it’s best to get away, you just can’t. You’re so used to being with Donghyuck that he has become a part of you, and walking away from him would feel like walking around with just one leg instead of two.
You’re sobbing into your own hands, feeling like the world just collapsed, and you don’t sense Donghyuck coming up the stairs towards your room.
“Y/n, I want to talk,” he opens the door just slightly, waiting for you to say something, but he doesn’t hear an answer, “Can we talk?”
“Go away,” You scoff, raising your head from your hands, bringing your knees to your chest. You notice him stepping carefully inside the room, the light on the hallway brightening your room just a little. He’s carrying your suitcase, the one you left at the foot of the staircase, and he puts it behind the door, before he comes next to you and decides to sit down.
He’s so close you can smell him, even if your nose is stuffy from all the crying. His arm is touching yours, and he brings one of his legs up to imitate your position. You don’t look him in the eye, but your tears keep streaming down your face uncontrollably, and you bite your lip trying not to let the sobs escape you.
He extends one hand, touching the arm closest to him, squeezing slightly.
“Lets talk about this,” he shushes you as soon as you try to reply back, and pats your head with careful gestures, “Come here,” he instructs, and your body responds immediately, like you wouldn’t even need a brain, just Donghyuck to tell you what to do and give out commands for you to follow.
Your face falls in the crook of his neck, and the moment you face touches his skin your tears are unstoppable. He continues to shush you, to tell you to let it all out, to tell you that everything’s okay.
And while you’re in his arms, and he holds you like this, showing you that he does indeed care about you, maybe you believe his words — that everything will be okay, just this once.
“Y/n, I know you can’t talk right now, so I will do the talking, okay?” He asks, but when he doesn’t get a reply back he promptly squeezes your arms to get an answer out of you. Between all the sobs and tears damping his skin and t-shirt, you give him a thumbs up — a sign that he should go on and talk, and it makes him laugh. The beautiful crystalline laugh you love so much.
“I’m so sorry for hurting you, and I know I’ve said this a lot lately but I will keep saying this a lot in the future too. I’m also sorry for talking to you the way I did earlier, raising my voice and pointing my finger when I’m not really the one who should be speaking,” he continues to caress your back while you’re all crouched into his side, your head still glued to the side of his neck. But he doesn’t mind the dampness, he doesn’t mind the sobbing you’re letting out right next to his ear. He doesn’t mind keeping you this close.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess, and then making you feel like I don’t appreciate you or like I don’t care about you. Because I do, Y/n. You’d be surprised if you could hear the things my mind is coming up with when I think about you.” He kisses the top of your head, and you feel his breath fanning over your forehead and cheeks for a little while.
“I’m sorry for ruining whatever you had with Sungchan, and I’m sorry to tell you that this last part is a lie. I’m lying Y/n, because knowing you could be happy far and away from me is making me go insane little by little. I’m an idiot for saying this when I’m the one in the wrong here,” he pauses, and you can hear him gulping.
“I need to be completely honest with you, I think I owe you this, and then if you want to walk away you can. You’re free to do whatever you want, you have your share of the money and it’s up to you whatever you decide to do,” you listen to him, holding your breath for a bit while waiting for him to go on, but your tears stopped flowing.
“The day I made breakfast for you, do you remember that?” You nod, stretching an arm across his stomach to get in a more comfortable position — and you really just wanted to hug him, “I was going to have a talk with you. The previous days, when I basically went missing, I reflected on a lot of things and I was ready to ask you if we could try to do this marriage thing for real this time, but you didn’t even let me speak,” he giggles, and once you register all his words your breath is caught in your throat.
“And then you went missing and I was so worried about you, Y/n. Never do that to me again,” he warns you, and you squeeze him tighter out of instinct. “You can do whatever you want Y/n, I mean it. You can forget I said anything about being for real in this marriage, you can decline all my apologies but I’ll forever feel sorry for putting you through this,”
You push yourself up from his body to finally look at him, and he looks at you with big sparkly eyes, touching his chest with his left hand, and you can see his ringed finger shining in the dim lights filtering through from the hallway. You love him, that’s a confirmed fact. Especially now after you got to hear everything he had to say.
“So how are you going to fix this?” You whisper, not really knowing how you should approach this whole situation.
“Do you forgive me?” He asks, his face getting a bit closer to your figure. He gets so close to you that you can smell his cologne perfectly once again.
“I do, but” you whisper, and you can sense he’s holding his breath, “did you mean it, what you said about doing this,” you point between the two of you, “doing it for real?”
“Yes,” he answers with no hesitation, “I meant everything I said,”
“So let me ask again,” you get closer to his face, smirking as you can feel his breath fanning over your face once again, but this time you look him in the eye, “how are you going to fix this?”
“I have a few ways,” he smirks at you, taking the bait you’ve just thrown him.
Everything happens really fast. You don’t have time to register the moment he seals his lips over yours, kissing you fervently as he gently grasps the side of your neck to bring you closer. You snicker as you feel his lips eagerly moving on top of yours, and your poor attempt at trying to gasp for air is swallowed by his relentless warm lips.
He breaks the kiss, giving you both a chance to breathe, and he stands to his feet, dragging you with him. His lips capture yours once again, but this time he doesn’t lose any more time, his tongue sliding carefully on your bottom lip, asking for your permission. You grant it almost immediately, and he moans into the kiss as soon as his tongue waltzes with yours, his plump lips sucking on your tongue before releasing it with a pop sound, and going back to nibble on your bottom lip.
He lets your lips go once again, grabbing a strand of your hair to play with.
“I’ve wanted to be like this for a long time,” he mumbles, looking at the strand he’s holding between his fingers, “Will you let me take care of you, Y/n?” He rasps, and the look you give him is enough for him to understand your answer. “Lay down for me,” he instructs, pushing you slightly until the back of your knees touch the mattress, and you follow his orders.
He sets himself on top of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist out of instinct. His hands reach for your waistline, roaming carefully towards your hips, where he stops to squeeze tenderly. He leans forward once again, but this time he catches your lips in a sweet, short kiss, repeating the action a few times before moving his juicy lips to your jaw, nibbling on your neck as he moves his ministrations further and further down.
You stifle a moan when his hot mouth reaches the neckline of your top that’s barely covering your breasts now that you’re laying down. Once again, Donghyuck puts his tongue to work, making the wet muscle trace the neckline, leaving wet smears across your hot skin.
His hands reach for the hem of your top, raising it higher on your torso up to your bust. His cold fingertips massage the delicate and silky skin up from your lower abdomen all the way to the underside of your breasts, where the underband of your bra is sticking uncomfortably to your skin.
“Let’s take this off, baby,” he commands, pulling on the fabric that’s covering your bra.
You comply to his orders, getting rid of the top as efficiently as possible, and you hear Donghyuck sucking his teeth, his head hanging low once again to be on the same level as your chest. He continues his actions, tracing his tongue around the cups of your bra, returning to the middle of your chest, where he presses his wet lips on the delicate spot between your tits, proceeding to lick a stripe all the way to your neck and jaw. He captures your lips in a smooth kiss, moving greedily trying to savour every little sound and breathy moans you let out. Your hands reach for his head, your fingers comb through his hair, fingertips massaging his scalp, and he can’t help but moan into your touch. The sound gets swallowed by your mouth moving confidently over his, sucking on his tongue, taking everything he’s willing to give you.
He breaks the kiss, holding a mischievous look in his gaze, instructing you to get rid of your bra and jeans while he gets up on his knees to get rid of his t-shirt. With his tanned, toned arms and abdomen on display, you reach out to get a chance to touch and trace his soft skin, but he slaps your hands away and leans forward towards your stomach, on which he places short, open mouth kisses all the way to the band of your panties.
He kneels at the foot of the bed, dragging you by your hips towards himself, and holds your legs together before leaning in onto your clothed core. The action has you moaning, and he keeps moving his nose against the crotch of the underwear in repeated motions, his nose bumping against your clit every single time, and it sends a tingling sensation throughout your body, pleasure bubbling fast in your lower stomach.
“Hyuck,” you moan his name, not thinking you can resist his actions much longer.
He smiles hearing you moaning his name, but decides to halt his actions nonetheless. He grabs your panties and pulls them down, the cold air in the room making contact with your wet folds. He folds your wet underwear carelessly and shoves them in the front pocket of his sweats, leaning forward for his mouth to start moving slowly on your core. His plump lips suck on your clit gently, twirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. Your pussy clenches around nothing, his relentless actions building the pressure in your muscles, and you’re approaching your release fast, your hip buck into his mouth, chasing the delicious pleasure you’re about to be rewarded with soon.
Donghyuck can feel his dick hard and throbbing in his boxers, but he doesn’t touch himself — he'd rather wait to be touched by you.
“That’s it, baby,” he moans with his mouth still glued to your core, his tongue licking long stripes along your entrance and clit, stopping to show extra care to the latter. And the pet name on his lips is everything you needed in order to cum.
His dick throbs hearing the sounds you make while you cum, his name on your lips feels like a mantra, like a chant full of praise, music to his ears.
“You’re insane,” you breathe out, grabbing him by the hair to detach him from your core when he doesn’t seem to have any faint intention of stopping his laps on your clit.
“You haven’t even seen half of it yet,” he grins and smirks, his chin glistens with a mix of your arousal and release. He licks his lips, deciding to cut you some slack until you come down from your high.
You look at him, and you lick your lips seeing his grey sweats hanging low on his tanned hips, a wet patch placed in the front on his crotch, indicating his arousal.
You pull him closer to you, latching your lips with his, sucking and pulling on his bottom lip, tasting yourself off his lips as his mouth moves rhythmically against yours.
You push him slightly off you, instructing him to get on the bed. You look at his figure again. What a great day to be wearing sweats, you think.
“Get these off for me,” you say, but it sounds more like a question. He giggles, but complies without having to be asked twice. He gets his boxers off of the way at the same time with his sweats, his dick falling heavy on his abdomen. You take a look at his cock, licking your lips unconsciously as you stare at the veins stretching along his length, precum leaking from his rosy tip. You reach for it, your palm aching to stroke him before you get a taste of him. But Donghyuck has other plans.
“Want you on my cock,” he grunts, bucking his hips up in your hand as soon as it wraps around his shaft, “Think you can ride me, baby?” He asks, and you’re more than eager to do it if it means seeing him so dishevelled underneath you, and you’re the cause.
You nod, and he extends one hand to help you keep your balance as you bring your weight on top of his lap, waiting for him to line his shaft with your entrance. His tip enters you and you have to stop for a bit to adjust to the girth. You sink lower on top of his shaft, your pussy throbbing around it, and Donghyuck has to suck a breath through his teeth and pray to god you won’t take long to get used to his size. You’re so tight, Donghyuck is too excited to last for too long, he knows this already.
You start riding him, your juices are enough for his shaft to slide in and out of you with ease, and one of his hands reaches up to your chest to grab one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting it and putting the right amount of pressure that gets a whimper out of you.
His mouth latches to your other nipple, sucking on it, his tongue swirls around the teat bringing a new wave of pleasure that has you arching your back and temporarily halting your rhythmic movements on top of Donghyuck’s shaft. Moaning, he sucks harsher on your nipple when he feels you stopping, so you resume your movements even if you can feel your thighs burning. A new wave of pleasure runs through your body when you hear his moans against the frail skin of your chest, one of his hands placed on the small of your back trying to guide your movements as he can sense you’re tired.
“Feels so fucking good,” he moans, looking up at you. You’re looking at him briefly, then you push him slightly to get him to lay down. You bring a pretty manicured hand up to his chest, steadying yourself as you keep your relentless and delicious moving of your hips against his. You mewl out a moan as your clit hits the base of his cock, and your head falls back making your hair bounce around yourself.
His body feels on fire, his heartbeat picking up its rhythm. “I think —” you hear him start, but is interrupted by one of your raw moans. “I love you,” he blurts out, and hearing those words coming out of his mouth makes the tension in your tummy burst, and the rhythm of your hips starts faltering. He grabs your arms with force and brings your upper body on top of his, your chests clashing on top of each other’s as he searches for your lips.
He needs them like he needs air, especially after the words that slipped past his lips. He pulls you closer, one hand grabbing your waist to keep you in place as his hips start bucking up inside of you, and another hand keeping your head in the crook of his neck as you still ride your orgasm. He chases his own climax, and the relentless throbbing of your pussy around his shaft as you ride your orgasm helps him burst deep inside of you, moaning out your name as he holds your body tightly.
You stay in his embrace a little longer, until the clarity starts hitting you, replaying the last moments in your mind. You fall next to Donghyuck, your head still resting on his shoulder, a leg still stretched on his stomach as you both try regaining your bearings.
You raise your head to look at him, only to find him already looking down at you.
“Did you really say you loved me?” You enquire, believing that’s a figment of your imagination.
“I did,” he whispers back, unmoving while keeping you close to him, his eyes big and sparkly.
“But isn’t it —“ you make a pause, trying to find the right words, “too soon? How do I know that you really mean it?”
“How do you know?” He repeats slowly, and then averts his gaze to look around the room for a few seconds. He sits up, getting off the bed, coming to your side of the bed so he can face you properly.
“What are you doing?” You ask, looking at him quizzically, trying to understand what goes on in that mind of his.
“Shut up, I’m about to do the most pathetic and embarrassing thing just for you,” he pouts at you, grabbing your arm and dragging you out of bed, “I need you to stand in front of me otherwise it won’t be embarrassing enough,”
“Seriously Hyuck, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You sigh, and you look at your naked silhouettes standing in front of each other like a pair of sims in the making.
“I have my flaws, and you know the already. I did a lot of shitty stuff to you, and I apologised for all. But you also have to remember…” he leaves the sentence up in the air for a bit, “That I’m also just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him,” he finishes his monologue, waiting for your reaction.
At first, you're speechless. Then the moment sinks in, and you can’t help but let a surprised laugh escape you as you reach for him.
You grab his face, bringing him closer to you to give him a quick peck on the lips.
“I love you too,” you let him know, but there’s a glint in your eyes that lets him know you’re never going to let him live this moment down, and he braces himself for impact, “But please never pull an Anna Scott on me, ever again!”
author's note: i loved writing this, i am emotionally attached to this story now T-T i love hyuck and i hope reading this was worth your time. feedback and engagement is always recommended and highly appreciated! thank you guys for signing up for the taglist and reading this piece <3 and you might have already guessed, but sungchan's instalment is related to the female oc (reader) in this, but more will come out with his teaser. if you have questions about this fic, my ask box is always open!
summary: the ceremony to choose your alpha mate has arrived.
genre: fluff, angst, smut
warnings: outdated gender roles/stereotypes, some women hating women dynamics (that resolves in the end), mentions of war, mentions of loss during childbirth, disapproval of in-laws, possessive!jaehyun, pregnancy, breeding kink, tiny bit of face riding, bigdick!jaehyun, squirting, knotting, nonstop fucking between jaehyun and reader, public sex, mating
“You must be overjoyed. Your ceremony is soon approaching.”
Sookyung grins at you through the mirror, brushing out the tangles in your hair. She runs her fingers through your scalp soothingly, despite her verbal reminder cutting and exposing your skin like an open wound.
You display a rehearsed smile. “Yes, it will be a momentous occasion.”
“We wait in the thrill for our next alpha,” she says in a repeated line most of the household have been trained to squawk at you.
After dressing you for the night, she exits your bedroom, allowing you the reprieve to breathe by yourself. You lay in your bed, eyes shutting tightly in the hopes of driving away the clouding thoughts of your ceremony.
The ceremony was an ancient ritual upheld in your community to secure the success for future lines for centuries to come. It was developed after a war decades ago between humans and wolves that nearly wiped out both populations, resulting in a tepid agreement to separate both species for the greater good. The violence decimated hundreds of werewolf communities, including most of the ancestors of your own line. Since then, the elders of every succeeding generation have been strict in their ways of treating the new alphas and omegas born from the surviving families.
Every year on the evening of the harvest moon, alphas and omegas who have come of age gather in the town square to be shipped away until the end of winter to locate a suitable match. Born an only child, your pairing with a prosperous alpha was critical to the future success of your family. Your mother and the beta staff of your household raised you to be the picture perfect omega for the ideal alpha you would one day marry.
Months ago, your resolve had weakened towards rebelling against your parents before you succumbed to their wishes. Initially, you believed the ceremony to be a backwards ritual that practically enslaved you to a stranger. You couldn’t put up much of a fight, however, when the struggle of your family’s finances grew heavier with each passing day.
It’s why when Sookyung finally dresses you for your ceremony and walks with you to the town square, you don’t make a scene. You keep your head down as your mother taught you, hands folded on your stomach as you step in line with the other omegas. Sookyung smiles at you when she sets down your packed suitcase, filled with every item deemed necessary by the elders to prepare you for the ceremony.
You always envied your handmaiden for the ease she carried herself with as a beta. Sookyung would never have to worry about bringing her family honor by marrying a strong-willed alpha. All betas were employed as working staff for the communities, keeping the background alive while the alphas took care of the pressing matters in the forefront. Omegas, on the other hand, were seen as nothing but breeding ovens that needed to deliver. When you were younger, before you presented as an omega, you silently prayed that the universe would assign you as a beta instead.
Unfortunately, your prayers were never answered.
“I will see you in a few months,” Sookyung murmurs happily, tapping at your cheeks affectionately. “The staff waits patiently for the arrival of our new alpha.”
Once your ceremony is finished and you are granted permission to return home, your household merges with your alpha’s in accordance with the law. Every staff member under your father’s umbrella becomes a diligent worker for your new alpha. You know Sookyung and the others not only pray that a kind alpha chooses you, but that his fortune is large enough so they do not have to part with any of the current workforce.
She grants you a small kiss on the cheek for good luck before parting, and you watch her tiny figure disappear behind the tree line. You take a small glance at the other omegas surrounding you, also bidding their farewells to their beta handmaidens. Some look like they’re about to cry in fear while others possess a determined expression you know you could never tackle yourself.
The boisterous chatter of the alphas fill your ears, and you straighten your posture and dart your eyes back towards the floor. It’s been years since your mother has allowed you to interact with an alpha. She feared it would accidentally pair you to someone who wouldn’t become your future mate, tainting your reputation in the community as used goods. This will be the first time you encounter another alpha as an adult, and it has your body tingling from head to toe.
The scent of the alphas makes the situation all too real, throwing you in the sudden clarity that in a few months, you will be mated to another alpha and most likely be pregnant with his child. You try to focus on the black leather shoes Sookyung dressed you in that morning, a new pair the elders gifted to your family for the ceremony. You don’t dare look up even after the smell of the alphas grows stronger, indicating their close proximity.
An elder claps her hands to gain your attention. “Very well then, looks like we have everyone. I hope you are all prepared for the next few months of the harsh winter. This will be the time where we expect you to gather together, keeping each other warm as you discover the alpha or omega you will be bonded to for life. I am certain your parents have already stressed the importance of this ritual to you all, so I won’t dawdle on the basics.” The elder’s feet pass by your line of vision but you continue to stare down. “No one may speak with a wolf not mated to you unless supervised, no alphas may claim an omega outside of the moon ceremony, and every alpha and omega must emerge from the winter bonded to another. Any disobedience according to the law is punished by exile. Is that clear?”
A chorus of agreement erupts from every single person standing in the square. The elder offers a hum of satisfaction before instructing you all to follow her to the bus that will transport you to the ceremony lodgings. Alphas are quick to take the omegas’ belongings with them, showcasing their ability to care and provide. An alpha’s hand wraps around the handle of your suitcase and tugs it alongside his. You don’t utter a word, giving a simple nod of gratitude without looking at him.
The ride to the lodgings is filled with anticipation. The elders divide the front of the bus for the omegas and the back for the alphas. The omega seated next to you grins from ear to ear.
“I’ve been waiting for this day since my sixteenth namesake!” She giggles happily. You throw her a polite smile. “They say the lodgings are filled with decadent food and a luxury most of us couldn’t imagine. It might be the only time we get to experience something like this.”
Details of the ceremony are kept secret from the omegas who have yet experienced it. Your mother told you as much as the law allowed her, warning you how difficult the winter can be without a willing alpha to keep you warm and forming alliances with other omegas can be tricky unless you play your cards right.
This isn’t a teenage getaway — it’s a competition. An omega you befriend could be useful to you for a short period, but soon enough, they would become another pawn rivaling your claim on an alpha. It’s much safer to tread by yourself so no one could betray you.
As soon as you arrive at the lodgings, a vast area of land covered in wooden cabins and surrounded by trees, the elder chaperones designate the areas assigned to the alphas and omegas. You are separated into opposite ends of the land, with omegas seeking shelter in the larger homes and alphas pushed into the smaller living areas.
Each omega is granted their own room, which you are grateful for. A handful of years ago, omegas used to share until fights broke out over claims on alphas. The elders became more strategic after the exile of a few unruly omegas, now giving each their own privacy to avoid confrontations.
You had counted the number of omegas on the bus, a total of fourteen rivaling the alpha count of twenty. You knew it was a safety measure the elders took as sometimes two alphas claimed one omega or disobedience of stubborn alphas forced the elders to send them to exile. An omega was more difficult to come by, but alphas were a dime a dozen.
Still, the idea of two alphas claiming you sent a shudder down your spine. You’re not even sure if you would be okay with one, let alone two commanding your every move.
“Dinner is at six,” an elder tells you as she shows you your room. “All omegas are expected to be seated before the alphas.”
You nod, about to thank her before a rumbling of footsteps barrel down the hallway.
“Sorry, Elder Kim. Forgot to hand this omega her belongings.”
You’re too late to dart your gaze away from the incoming alpha, but your breath catches in your throat when you realize who it is. Jeong Jaehyun has his fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, wheeling it inside your room.
Jaehyun is the son of the head alpha of your community. The Jeong family are respected by all across the nation, descending from the ancestors that fought for the wolves’ rights in the war against humans. Every alpha son from their line has ascended to greatness, and with Jaehyun being the current oldest son of the family, he is the most valuable pick of the ceremony season.
The elder’s voice is stern, scolding him. “Next time, you will alert another elder of this omega’s belongings instead of encroaching on her space like this. I won’t tolerate disobedience simply because of your last name, Jaehyun.”
“Yes, Elder Kim,” he replies obediently.
You briefly meet eyes before you avert your gaze, silently reprimanding yourself for indulging in a look. You hear his footsteps slowly fade away.
“That boy,” Elder Kim sighs, shaking her head. She throws you a stern expression. “Dinner at six. We will escort you to the main hall.”
“Thank you,” you say, bowing respectfully.
Elder Kim closes your door and you slacken your shoulders, wrapped in the comfort of being alone. You work at unpacking your suitcase, filled with sweaters and thick coats to protect you from the cold. You find one of the dresses Sookyung bought for you, a long smock ending at your ankles that properly concealed whatever the elders deemed too precious to be seen before the moon ceremony. You throw it on and clean yourself up before Elder Kim knocks on the door again for supper.
You inhale, taking a long look in the mirror.
You can do this.
—
Elder Choi sits you in between Jaehyun and Doyoung, and the other omegas snarl at you over the coveted spot.
Doyoung’s family is right hand to Jaehyun’s, holding nearly as much power as the head alpha. Either one of them would be considered a suitable match for any omega, but you set your sights on an easier catch like Doyoung.
Bonding with an alpha that possesses as much power as Jaehyun is almost impossible for an omega of your status, lowborn with a fortune running thin.
A group of betas begin to serve dinner as you tell Doyoung, “It’s an honor to meet you, Alpha Kim. My family is grateful for your ancestors’ sacrifice during the war.”
It is a sign of recognition to acknowledge an alpha’s successful lineage, a tactic your mother drilled into you from a young age. She taught you as much as she knew about the eligible bachelors of your season, so you know a few characteristics about Doyoung. He’s the youngest in his family but exhibits the traits of an eldest son — steel demeanor, unforgiving rulings, and no room for a silly thing such as love. He’s exactly what you’re searching for in this time of desperation.
“I thank you for the credit,” he replies, offering you a nod. “Are you familiar with the household duties assigned to an omega like yourself?”
Therein lies the unwavering stony demeanor of the infamous Kim Doyoung.
“Yes, I am,” you say meekly. You shyly take a bite of the steak in front of you. “Embroidery and reading are my favorite pastimes, Alpha Kim.”
He hums in approval. “Any books caught your eye recently?”
“The Omega’s Guide to Painting has been very entertaining,” you say, lying through your teeth. It’s considered reckless for omegas to consume any piece of media outside of their class, leaving you with nothing but novels surrounding the fascination of cleaning and cooking. Sometimes you sneak a book out of your father’s library containing details about the late war, but you wouldn’t dare speak that outloud. “I am also fond of The Handbook for Dressmaking.”
“A good read,” he murmurs. “And children? Is that something you’re contemplating?”
You keep your best smile painted on your face. “Yes, Alpha Kim. As many as the moon will grant me.”
The rest of the dinner passes smoothly, and you barely scrape the fork on your plate in fear of seeming too greedy. The other omegas at the table obtain the same values as you, their food nearly untouched. Your stomach growls in discontent when a member of the beta staff eventually takes your meal away from you to clean up.
Following traditional customs, you separate from the alphas when the table is cleared and retreat back to your room. You try your best to tuck yourself into bed and fall asleep, but your growing hunger screams at you. You tiptoe out of bed carefully, checking the hallway for any elders lurking before proceeding back to the main hall. The cabin is dark, all lights shut off as you quietly move into the kitchen. The betas have already cleared the countertops of any remaining food so you check the fridge, the halo illuminating your face.
“You silly omegas.”
You jump nearly three feet in the air, gasping and holding your hand to your chest. You swivel around to see Jaehyun standing behind you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in amusement.
“A-Alpha Jeong,” you stutter, bowing your head. “I apologize, I wasn’t aware-“
“You omegas are always starving yourselves in front of us. When are you going to realize alphas are never settled when our omegas aren’t taken care of?” He questions, stepping beside you and taking out the leftover steak in the fridge.
You keep your eyes planted to the ground as he moves around you, heating up the meal on the stove.
“Alpha Jeong, you don’t have to-“
“Just call me Jaehyun,” he interrupts gruffly. “Alpha Jeong this, Alpha Kim that- all the rules get so tedious.”
You flush in embarrassment. “We shouldn’t be alone together without an elder present.”
“Another rule,” he sighs, using two fingers to lift your chin up. You meet his gaze head on. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
You swallow, blinking slowly at him. Being this close to an alpha while unmated is against all commands of the elders and betrays every ounce of your omega training, but you nod and say, “Okay.”
“Besides, the elders sleep like they’re dead anyways,” he says with familiarity, which makes you realize that Jaehyun’s grown up around all the elders who have accompanied you to the ceremony because he’s next in line to become head alpha. He steps back from you and resumes cooking at the stove. “So,” he starts, humming. “The Handbook for Dressmaking is a riveting thriller, isn’t it?” He asks you with a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.
“Oh,” you mumble, wringing your hands nervously. “Yes, I believe it was the top book for the omegas in our district.”
He chuckles. “What’s your actual favorite book? Be honest.” He takes out a cutting board and slowly starts peeling the skin of one of the apples on the counter.
“Um- t-that is my favorite book, Alpha-“ you stop and clear your throat, correcting yourself. “Jaehyun.”
“You omegas,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “Always lying, trying to say what you think is the right thing. I don’t want to hear the dictation from your mother’s handbook. I want to hear your real opinion.”
Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. You’ve never told another being about straying away from the traditional omega values. Jaehyun looks at you with an impatient expression, however, and you can’t bring yourself to lie to the next head alpha.
“History retellings about the war are my favorite,” you confess in a gentle voice. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “They provide me with a picture of what we needed to do to succeed as the dominant species.”
It’s not ladylike in the slightest to assimilate oneself to such acts of violence, and you’re certain this would be the final nail in the coffin to ward Jaehyun far from you. Instead, he smiles.
“That’s a new one,” he laughs. “And the children? As many as the moon grants you?”
It’s no secret that after the war, many omegas don’t find it as easy to give birth as they used to. The lingering chemicals and difficult winters led to harsher environments for omegas to successfully carry a pup to term. Nowadays, omegas who strive for more than four children sign their own death sentence. Regardless of the staggering data, the elders teach all omegas that they must give birth to as many pups as the moon will grant them.
“Two,” you whisper, shifting your stare from him and towards the wall. “Just two would satisfy me.”
He hums again, but makes no effort to scold you for your admission. You expect the son of the head alpha to be more strict on the nation’s laws surrounding omega submission, but Jaehyun breaks out of the mold you initially assumed of him.
He slides a warm plate on the counter, filled with the delicious food you resisted eating hours ago.
“Eat well, omega. I thank you for your honesty.”
When he exits the kitchen, your mind reels over the thought that not all alphas are as bad as you believed them to be.
—
“Look at them out there!”
Omegas rush to crowd the window, gawking over the beefy alphas outside. A month has passed since you arrived for the ceremony, and yesterday, the first snowfall made an appearance. The alphas are currently gathering firewood outside in a clear demonstration of power play. Each wolf challenges the next as they collect stacks upon stacks of firewood in their arms, flexing their muscles for the omegas watching to squeal at.
“Jaehyun is so strong,” Doyeon sighs wistfully, nose glued to the glass. “He’s going to be a perfect match for you, Joohyun.”
You learned pretty quickly that the omegas arranged themselves into a pecking order after your first few weeks here. Joohyun was a beautiful girl from the rural village who was nearly guaranteed a good match because of her visuals, and most of the omegas echoed how perfect she would be for Jaehyun.
You, on the other hand, were at the bottom of the food chain. You hadn’t made companions out of any of the other omegas and you never told a soul about the night Jaehyun heated up your meal while unchaperoned. You kept to yourself, occupying your days with the activities the elders laid out for you, such as embroidery and dressmaking.
“It’s not certain yet,” Joohyun dismisses with a giggle. “He won’t even give me the time of day.”
“He’s just nervous!” Yerim insists, laughing with her. “It’s honestly really cute. You’re going to be the perfect omega queen for us.”
You keep your lips pursed, refusing to voice your displeasure at the constant chatter encircling Jaehyun and Joohyun. You hate to admit you think about that night with Jaehyun more often than you would like, sometimes imagining what your life could be if he chose you as his mate. You admonish yourself for feeding into your desires, knowing that they could never come true.
The front door bursts open and the alphas come piling in, throwing firewood down on the living room rug despite the protests of the elders. You carry on reading the novel seated in your lap, refusing to engage in the delighted cries of the omegas praising their alpha’s strength.
“It really wasn’t that hard,” Mingyu laughs, puffing out his chest for Chaeyeon, the omega he’s clearly courting. “Alphas like us are born to carry much heavier loads than that.”
Just as you’re turning the next page of your book, a voice above you asks, “What have you got there, omega?”
Your eyes flit upwards to catch Jaehyun’s, a familiar playful smirk dancing across his lips. You swallow nervously and dart your eyes away from his.
“Embroidery and Embellishments, Alpha Jeong.”
He clicks his tongue. “Fascinating read, I’m sure.”
You smile bashfully at the jest before Joohyun clears her throat, taking the lounge chair across from you.
“Alpha Jeong, I thank you graciously for providing the firewood we omegas need for the incoming frosty weather,” Joohyun says with batted eyelashes.
He brushes her off with a wave of his hand. “No thanks necessary. Alphas are always happy to provide for our omegas.” He takes another glance down at you but you keep your eyes trained on your book, afraid of angering Joohyun’s clear attempt to claim him. “I hope you enjoy your book, omega.”
“Thank you, Alpha Jeong.”
The alphas exit shortly after the elders light the fire, returning to their own cabins. The elders begin to assign you household tasks to keep the lodgings prepared in case of a severe storm. Elder Lee delegates you to shovel snow from the driveway in fear of another omega accidentally slipping on the ice. You bundle up as best as you can, wrapping yourself in a puffy coat and shoving your hands into a pair of warm gloves.
You don’t comment on the fact that some of the more desired omegas, such as Joohyun and Doyeon, were only given the tasks of watching the fire to ensure the light doesn’t flicker out. You suppose even the elders were convinced they would be married to good pairings and soon enough, they would be listening to Joohyun’s orders if she mated the head alpha.
You sigh as you work at shoveling the snow, testing your balance as you plant yourself upright and continue to dig.
“So we’re back to Alpha Jeong, hm?”
You almost scream, turning around to see the source of the sudden voice. Your frantic actions cause you to slip on the ice and you gasp as you feel yourself falling backwards. A pair of arms catch you, encircling your waist and pulling you tight against a warm frame.
Your eyes slowly wobble up to meet with Jaehyun’s.
“You need to be more careful with yourself, omega,” he chuckles, breath fanning over your face. “Can’t have you injuring yourself whilst on duty.”
You scramble to balance on your own two feet as Jaehyun watches you, thoroughly entertained. He gently takes the shovel from your hands and begins to dig.
“Alpha Jeong, you don’t have to-“
He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “The elders shouldn’t have an omega out here, shoveling snow without supervision. If I wasn’t around and you fell, you could be seriously injured.”
You chew on your lower lip, afraid to tell him that the elders will definitely scold you for letting an alpha complete your work. You observe as the muscles ripple down his back and through his arms, showcasing them properly as he dons a sleeveless shirt.
Alphas’ bodies were designed to withstand temperatures like this, even as the wind nips at your face and sends shivers down your spine. Their figures were meant to be warm enough to protect their families during winter, and your heart aches to be clung to his chest again and feel the heat pressed against your skin.
“We used to play together as pups, you know.”
The statement has you reeling, your mind searching for glimpses of a tiny Jaehyun running circles around you. He laughs at your bewildered expression.
“It was before your mother took you away to become a proper omega,” he elaborates, lips curled in distaste towards the end of his sentence. “You used to shove me down and tell me I kept arranging my mudcastles all wrong.”
You briefly recall a rebellious younger version of yourself, ruling the rest of the children on the playground with an iron fist. It was before all of you understood the differences between omegas and alphas, and before your family was sequestered into the lowborn category. Your life as a child was filled with merriment and fun, and it would make sense that you didn’t think twice about pushing around the future head alpha.
“I apologize for my behavior,” you say shyly.
He frowns. “Why would you need to apologize? We were young — that’s what we’re meant to do.”
“Still,” you reply, swallowing your nerves. “An omega of my status should not have been acting in such an unruly manner, Alpha Jeong.”
“Jaehyun,” he corrects. “And stop apologizing. I don’t want to hear you ever say sorry again for behaving in a completely acceptable manner, okay?”
You blink at him, taken aback by his command. “Y-Yes, Jaehyun.”
He gives you a long look before returning to shoveling the snow, the driveway now almost clear from his efforts. The front door to the cabin creaks open and Elder Kim hobbles outside, gasping when she sees the sight of the alpha.
You open your mouth to explain, but she’s reprimanding you before you can get a word out.
“What do you think you’re doing? Allowing an alpha to complete your task whilst unsupervised?”
This is it, you think. This is the moment that she sentences you to exile, forcing you to leave the ceremony lodgings and fend for yourself in the woods alone. You think of your mother and Sookyung, who tried so hard to mold you into a perfect omega who would bring back an alpha they could be proud of. How would they take care of themselves with you gone?
Before you can spiral into the endless possibilities of your demise, the alpha beside you speaks up in your defense.
“And what do you think you’re doing, Elder Kim?” Jaehyun bites back with a scathing tone. “Letting an omega shovel snow on her own knowing she could fall and injure herself. Omegas are sacred in our district, I’m sure you’re well aware. Leaving one unsupervised by any of the elders could bring lasting damage to our community.”
Elder Kim’s face flushes red with anger from being challenged and humiliated by an alpha younger than her. She glances behind her, ensuring the door is closed for no other ears to eavesdrop on your conversation.
“Jeong Jaehyun, you will go back to your cabin and speak of this no further. I will reassign the omega’s duties accordingly.”
“I’m not leaving until this omega is warm by the fire and fed properly,” he says sternly, eyes narrowed.
You squirm, attempting to make yourself smaller to avoid the heated stare of Elder Kim. She barks at you, “Get inside and stay by the fire.”
You shuffle quickly into the cabin, throwing one last look at Jaehyun before you go. He smiles at you before shifting back to his grim countenance at Elder Kim. When you shut the door, the elder’s voice rises.
“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay far away from that omega. You know that’s not the one your father approved of you mating with.”
“I didn’t think you amused yourself with such idle gossip, Elder Kim,” he replies mockingly.
“Jaehyun,” Elder Kim scolds. “That omega is not fit for an alpha of your status. She will not be able to lead the omegas who come next in line.”
“You don’t know what she can do,” he hisses, and your heart beats rapidly in your chest. Is he implying that he’s considering you as a potential mate? “All of the elders focus only on themselves instead of the good nature of omegas like her. Isn’t the point of the ceremony to nurture and bond them to an alpha? I don’t see how that’s being accomplished when you have one of them at the risk of catching hypothermia.”
Elder Kim sighs loudly. “Just go back to your lodgings, Jaehyun. And think about if the decisions you’re making are that of a leader.”
“I want her to be looked after more carefully.”
“That is for us elders to determine. You’re not the head alpha yet, don’t start acting like one.”
You saunter off to the living room before you can hear any more, taking a seat on one of the recliners and wrapping yourself in a blanket. Joohyun and Doyeon are painting their nails on the couch adjacent to you, eyebrows raised at the sight of your presence.
“Shouldn’t you be finishing your chore outside?”
You grab your book from the table and prop it open.
“Alpha Jeong did it for me.”
And you finish your book with a smile, ignoring their blatant shock when Elder Choi sets down a warm plate of food next to you.
—
As the wind grows stronger, the elders begin to initiate more intimate activities between you and the alphas.
One of them is a form of speed dating, where an alpha visits you in your room for a few minutes unsupervised while the elders lurk outside the door. You make your best attempt at pushing your discomfort away at a stranger invading your space, especially so close to your nest. Most of the alphas are polite towards you and ask you a few questions before departing to the next room. It’s clear they’ve made their initial claims towards other omegas, as they display no interest in your life beyond childbirth.
“This is a beautiful pillow,” Doyoung says when it’s his turn, picking up one of the cushions you’ve laid in your nest. Your eye twitches slightly at the action. Any courteous alpha should know it’s disrespectful to touch an omega’s nest without permission.
Despite this, you offer him a small smile. “Thank you, Alpha Kim. I made it myself.”
He hums in approval. “Your room is more bare than the other omegas,” he notes, drinking in your empty walls.
“I don’t have much,” you confess. The other omegas were given various presents to celebrate their ceremony by their parents or beta handmaidens, but you were only handed enough sheets and blankets to cover the bed.
He nods again. “I hope you understand I’m searching for an omega who can lead my household without instruction. I’ll be occupied during the hours in the day working for my father and brother, so I need my pack to be organized without the requirement of my presence.”
“Yes, Alpha Kim,” you say meekly. “I am very efficient in handling my own tasks and duties. My mother raised me in accordance with the laws of the ancestors.”
A knock on the door interrupts you, and Elder Lee steps in. “Time’s up,” she says, balancing herself on her cane. “The last alpha is here.”
Doyoung bows in courtesy to you and you return the gesture.
“It was lovely speaking with you. Thank you for your time, omega.”
“I appreciate your attention to detail, Alpha Kim.”
Elder Lee escorts Doyoung into the next room before Jaehyun pokes his head in.
“May I come in, omega?”
Your heartbeat thumps in your ears. “Of course, Jaehyun.”
He grins at the familiar calling of his name before walking in and shutting the door. You blink softly at him, butterflies swarming your stomach at the sight of him in your room. He looks so big compared to your tiny cabin lodge, and the omega inside of you screams to invite him into your nest and make him comfortable.
“Beautiful nest, omega,” he compliments, gazing at the circle of blankets and pillows you’ve built on the mattress.
You smile bashfully. None of the other alphas even bothered to comment on it.
“Thank you.” You suddenly think back to the night in the driveway, and Elder Kim’s words throttle inside of your head. “Have any omegas caught your eye?”
He frowns at the shift in the conversation. “Why would you ask me that?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you-“
“Don’t apologize,” he sighs, suddenly exasperated. “I told you that you don’t need to apologize for silly things like this. Just-“ he swallows, crossing his arms over his chest. “Have the elders been talking to you?”
Since that night, you noticed the elders have been treating you slightly differently. You are no longer assigned the more grueling tasks fit for an omega and your portions at mealtime have grown larger. Joohyun has been staring at you with envy, and you know the other omegas have been whispering about you behind your back.
“N-No,” you deny, shaking your head. “I just thought- um, I thought Joohyun was starting to show an interest in you.”
He shakes his head dismissively. “I don’t care about her. She’s not the right omega for me.” He glances at the clock hanging above the door, and you realize you only have a few seconds left together. “Meet me in the main hall tonight. I want to speak longer with you.”
“But-“
“Time to go,” Elder Choi says, opening the door and throwing Jaehyun a stern look. He follows her obediently, not wanting to stir up any more trouble, leaving you all by yourself again.
You thought you would be relieved by the time the speed dating session was over, but instead, you find yourself coveting more minutes with Jaehyun without having to sneak around. You keep yourself occupied until the late night rolls over the sky. The elders decided to separate you from the alphas for meal time tonight considering there was already sufficient interaction between you today. You eat dinner by yourself in your room instead of joining the omegas at the table, counting down the minutes until everyone is tucked away in bed.
You have enough time to mull over the consequences of your decisions — getting caught with Jaehyun after hours is one thing, but if the elders discover that it was pre-planned and intentional, it would evolve into an entire mess. Nothing would probably happen to Jaehyun, he would most likely get a slap on the wrist and a scolding from his father. You, on the other hand, would be sent to exile and your family would be disgraced by the community for their omega daughter seducing the future head alpha.
Still, you can’t help but disregard all of the red flags waving in front of you. The omega inside of you demands to be near Jaehyun, to talk to him, to let him hold you until the storm passes. It’s a carnal feeling you’re not sure you’ve ever felt before.
You’re light on your feet as you make your way to the main cabin, the wind outside nipping at your cheeks forcefully. You slip into the kitchen without making a sound, afraid of waking any of the beta staff sleeping upstairs.
“There you are,” Jaehyun whispers when you enter, and you squeak. “Oh fuck,” he curses when he sees you shivering. As if on instinct, he crosses the room and pulls you into his arms. “I forgot about the snow outside, I’m so sorry, omega.”
You smile at him. “You said not to apologize for silly things.”
The concern in his eyes is replaced with something softer, and the corners of his lips lift upwards. “I did, didn’t I? Thanks for reminding me.” He doesn’t move an inch, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to seek warmth. “And thank you for meeting me so late. I hope you’re still getting enough sleep.”
Your chest blooms at his constant fretting over you. “I’m doing well, thank you, Jaehyun.”
“I-I wanted to speak with you about what you said earlier,” he mumbles, hand stroking your hair gently. You lean into his touch, almost mewling at how perfect he feels against you. “I hate that you’re thinking about me with other omegas. Truthfully, I don’t want any of them. My alpha’s been calling me to you.”
You freeze in his hold. You take a step back from him and he frowns at you. “Is this some kind of rebellious act?” You question. “I should be your last pick as an omega, Jaehyun. Elder Kim said so herself.”
“So you have been listening to them,” he says under his breath, shaking his head. He pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I don’t care what everyone thinks they know about me. I-I like you. I’ve liked you since we were pups and I can’t imagine myself being mated to anyone else.”
His words cut through you sharply and you struggle to catch your breath. You’re convinced that Jaehyun doesn’t quite understand the weight behind his words and how much this could alter both of your lives permanently. He’s an alpha destined for greatness and you’re an omega fallen from grace. You can’t possibly work out in the long run.
“I don’t think-“
The sound of light footsteps interrupts you, and both of your eyes widen before he’s pulling you into the corner of the room, concealing your bodies behind the tall refrigerator. You keep your lips sealed shut, body pressed against his warmly. A beta worker steps into the kitchen, frowning when she sees no presence of another wolf before flicking the lights off. After thoroughly checking the living room as well, she treads back up to her bed.
You exhale when she finally disappears before you feel a hand ghost over your cheek. Your eyes lock with Jaehyun’s, who looks at you like no one’s ever looked at you before. There’s an affection in gaze that draws you in, tugging at your heartstrings and begging for you to make room for him. He cages you against the wall, molding his frame against yours. His breath hits your skin before you’re suddenly reminded of where you are.
“Jaehyun, the staff-“
“Please let me kiss you.”
You swallow before you nod, and his lips descend on yours desperately. A burst of light explodes throughout your body, desire swelling deep inside of you. He feels so soft against you and it makes you want to kiss him all day. Your hand reaches to pull at the hairs on the nape of his neck, causing him to groan into your mouth.
You’re not sure if it’s from your incoming heat for the moon ceremony, but you’ve never been this wet before. Slick runs down your thighs and you shamefully whimper, rubbing them together to seek friction. It’s clear Jaehyun can smell your arousal, his moans shifting into growls as his fingers dig into your hips. His lips trace your jaw and he starts to lift up your dress, running against the flesh of your thighs.
“Jaehyun,” you gasp, pushing him away. “We can’t.”
He pants, clearly frustrated. You try to ignore the swell of his hard member straining in his trousers. “It’s not fair. I’m the next head alpha — I should get to choose the queen who will sit beside me.”
You shake your head. “I-I’m sorry, but I think you know it’s best for you to mate with Joohyun and I with Doyoung.”
“Doyoung,” he scoffs, tangling his fingers through his hair. “Doyoung would ignore you at a moment’s notice in favor of chasing the tail of his father. He’s a good soldier, I’ll admit, but he’ll be half the husband I could be for you.”
“He’s safe,” you argue. “He’s a perfectly safe choice for an omega like me. He won’t stir up any trouble and he’ll provide for our pups as needed.”
A snarl erupts from him. “You will never have any wolf’s pups except mine.”
His vocal abhorrence is what stirs another beta worker from their bed, and you pause when you hear the creaking of the wood upstairs. You shuffle away from Jaehyun and he looks at you solemnly.
“I can’t do this with you, alpha. It’s dangerous and I-I just can’t. Please find it in your heart to choose Joohyun instead.”
You slip out of the kitchen and trudge back to your cabin with Jaehyun’s heart crushed between your fingers.
—
“There is a prediction that tomorrow’s weather will be the coldest night of the year, with temperatures dropping below freezing,” Elder Choi says, staring at the handful of omegas before her. They have gathered you in the common space, hands folded on your stomachs obediently. “We are allowing the alphas to choose an omega to keep warm throughout the night. They will enter your rooms after supper tomorrow, and we all gently remind you that no claims are allowed to be made outside of the moon ceremony.”
You glance down bashfully at her words. The omegas surrounding you rejoice happily, squealing to one another at the thought of an alpha’s body wrapped around theirs while the wind cries. You, on the other hand, picture an icy night with Doyoung, who would likely rather curl up on his side of the bed than touch you.
Doyeon raises her hand before Elder Kim calls on her. “And how will you determine the order of the alphas? What if multiple alphas are vying after one omega?”
“We have discussed this with the alphas to ensure they speak to one another before making a decision,” Elder Lee replies. “And the order will go according to status of house, with Jeong being first.”
Every omega turns to Joohyun and giggles except you. You haven’t spoken to Jaehyun in weeks despite his attempts to sit near you during meals or help you with your assigned chores. He has been talking more to Joohyun like you requested, and you hate how your gut stirs with jealousy every time you see them together.
The following night, during supper, you sit in between Doyoung and Chaeyeon. You smile at the alpha sitting beside you. “The weather is taking a turn for the worst. I hope you are able to keep yourself warm, Alpha Kim.” You hand him a basket of bread as he nods.
“Yes, we alphas are not affected by a simple dip in the weather like omegas are. My wish is for you to shield yourself from harm’s way.”
You smile politely at him and bob your head in thanks. Your eyes lift to catch Jaehyun’s across the table, where he is seated in between Joohyun and Doyeon. His fingers are tightened steadfastly around his fork, glaring at you and Doyoung. You swallow and realign your gaze to your meal.
“And what order have you been assigned for tonight’s activity?” You ask Doyoung, ignoring Jaehyun’s blatant stare.
“Second,” he replies. “Your omega will not have to wait long.”
“I appreciate your concern, Alpha Kim.”
You burrow yourself underneath a handful of blankets that night, although it does little to protect you from the howling wind. Your teeth chatter as you curl yourself into a ball, praying for the storm to pass. Your door creaks open and you furrow your eyebrows.
It’s too early for Doyoung to be here. The sun has only just fallen over the horizon, so it couldn’t possibly be him unless-
“May I come into your nest, omega?”
Your head pokes out from underneath the covers to see Jaehyun hovering over you, smiling softly at your shivering form. Your eyes dart between him and the door frantically.
“Jaehyun, you shouldn’t be here-“
“Why? My omega is cold and I’m here to keep her warm,” he murmurs. “Now may I come into your nest?”
You have half a mind to tell him to leave this room and find Joohyun’s, but instead, you lift up the covers so he can climb in. His hands immediately wrap around your waist and he pulls your backside against his front. Your body relaxes in his hold, protected by the heat of his frame.
“Did Doyoung-“
“Don’t say his name,” he growls in your ear. He presses closer against you. “I put him in his place. He knows now not to come near you.”
“Jaehyun,” you hiss angrily. “That was not your decision to make.”
“I can’t stand the thought of him in this room, invading your nest and keeping you warm,” he says through gritted teeth. His hand moves to tangle with yours and your heartbeat picks up its pace. “I’m the only alpha who can keep you safe.”
You sigh, tears threatening to spill over your eye line. “I can’t be the omega they want me to be,” you confess in a small voice.
He kisses your neck softly. “You already are the strongest omega I’ve ever seen. That power, that confidence — it’s hidden underneath the foolish rules your mother taught you to be a ‘good’ omega. You just need to be yourself.”
You bury your face into the pillow, allowing the tears to fall. “I don’t remember who that is.”
He turns you over, wiping your tears away gently. “Let me show you then.” He kisses down your neck, lifting the hem of your sweater to nudge his nose against your stomach.
Your eyes flit over to the door again, fear settling in. “We shouldn't-“
“It’s okay,” he soothes you, tugging your sweatpants down your legs. You gasp at the chill hitting your thighs, goosebumps spreading across your skin. “You just have to be quiet for me, omega.”
“The moon will know of our sin,” you exhale, reciting the words of the elders.
He rolls his eyes, nose nudging against your core. “The moon doesn’t know shit.” You squeak when he sucks lewdly through your underwear, slick coating his tongue. “What I know is my omega’s pussy needs attention and I’m happy to provide.”
He rolls down the fabric until your bare folds hit the freezing air. Jaehyun is quick to lap at the slick dripping down your thighs, coating the bed as your head tilts in embarrassment. His fingers reach to cup your cheeks, shifting your focus on him.
“Don’t look away from me, omega,” he commands in a gruff voice. “Let me see that confidence as I eat this pretty cunt.”
You keep your eyes locked on him as he laps at your core, tongue tracing your pulsing folds. You chew on your bottom lip, fearful of allowing any stray whimpers to fall and risk one of the elders overhearing you. He flicks his tongue over your clit, teasing the nub. Your fingers tangle through his hair, gripping the strands to pull him closer to you. He smiles at your display of dominance, allowing you to use his face as your personal toy.
All etiquette training flies out the window as your hips roll against his tongue, slick continuing to spill from you and into Jaehyun’s waiting mouth. You chase your impending orgasm, riding his face until the band in your stomach snaps. He quickly shoves three fingers into your mouth to muffle your moans. You whine against his digits as he laps at your cunt, grinning vulgarly.
“Such a good omega,” he praises, your legs still shaking from the intense orgasm. He kisses his way back up to your face, removing his hand from your mouth so he can swirl his tongue with yours. You whimper when you taste the remnants of your orgasm on him. “Have the elders been making you take your suppressants?”
Since your first night at the cabins, the elders required all alphas and omegas to take suppressant pills to ward off their incoming ruts and heats. The goal was to ensure you were all ripe and ready for the moon ceremony, which was now fast approaching. They would begin to wean you off of the suppressants in the coming weeks to correctly sync all of you to the ceremony. It was the best way to guarantee pregnancy for the omegas on the first night.
At your nod, Jaehyun sighs. “It’s ridiculous. I should be able to breed my omega whenever I please.” You moan at the thought. He flips you over so that you’re on top, straddling his torso. “Go ahead and claim what’s yours, omega. Show me the omega queen you’re going to be.”
You shakily fumble with his briefs, pulling them down until his cock slaps up against his stomach. Your eyes widen at the length of him, long and thick. You heard rumors that a head alpha’s cock was bigger than most, but you genuinely weren’t expecting this.
“I-Is that supposed to fit inside me?” You squeal, frightened by the idea.
He chuckles, rubbing his thumb against your hip soothingly. “It’ll fit, omega. Why don’t you play with it a little? I promise you it’s not that scary.”
You hesitantly wrap your hand around his base, squeezing gently while he groans. You move your palm up to the tip, catching the falling beads of precum leaking from him and using it as a lubricant. You continue to stroke him, marveling at how his cock throbs and manages to keep expanding at your touch. How is it possible for him to grow any bigger?
“Come on, omega,” he encourages you through bated breaths. He lifts your hips up until your core is hovering over his member. “Take your time, okay? It’ll fit, trust me, your pussy was made for me.”
“Okay,” you whisper, balancing one hand on his abdomen as you slowly sink down. You throw your head back, whining at the stretch until his fingers slip into your mouth again to silence you. You’re not even halfway there yet you feel so full, stuffed to the brim with his cock.
You’re not certain you can go any further until Jaehyun shushes you calmly, brushing off the stray tears you don’t realize have fallen. “Take your time,” he reiterates. “It’s not a race, omega. I’ll be here all night, waiting for you.”
You nod, fluttering your eyes shut before you exhale. You gradually press down until he’s seated all the way inside of you, balls snug against your ass. Slick races down your core to coat both you and him, making the glide easier for you when you start to move.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “What else do you need, omega? Don’t be shy about it, an omega queen never is.”
You duck down to seal your lips together, effectively connecting you to him as your hips swivel around his cock. He grunts into your mouth, spanking you lightly with his fingers that are still smeared with your saliva.
“I need your knot, alpha,” you mutter against his lips. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot before and you want nothing more than to feel Jaehyun’s cock swell inside of you, stretching you open until ropes of his cum cover your walls.
“Let me feel you first, omega,” he hums, using his hands to guide your movements as you bounce on him.
You rock back on him as the euphoric sensation spreads throughout your body, driving your pleasure to new heights. His cock is big enough to rub against all of the right spots, nudging you closer to your climax. You rut frantically on him until fireworks explode behind your eyelids.
You don’t realize you’ve squirted everywhere until you float back down, blinking to clear the haze in your vision. Jaehyun has one hand covering your mouth and you give him a confused expression.
“You were screaming,” he explains in a fond voice, stroking your hair back. His eyes are sparkling and you glance down, shocked by the amount of slick covering his stomach and the bedsheets. “Messy omega.”
He gently rolls you over so your head hits the pillows, switching positions with you as he slowly slides back into your cunt.
“Want your knot, Jaehyun,” you pant, the last orgasm driving you to exhaustion.
“I’m going to give it to you, omega,” he says, pumping into you desperately. Your wetness is causing a slight smacking sound to fill the room every time his thighs hit yours, which he tries to quiet as much as possible. “My knot’s only for you, my omega. It’ll only ever be for you.”
He buries his head between your collarbones when his knot begins to swell. His teeth sink into your neck, forcing a gasp from your throat. He doesn’t claim your mating gland yet, favoring the spot next to it. You feel like you’re being split open as the base of his cock inflates and tears fall down your cheeks at the mix of pain and pleasure.
And when Jaehyun cums, he cums a lot. So much that it spills out of your pussy and onto the mattress. His knot plugs his cum deep inside, ensuring most of it fills your womb.
He kisses you once more, cupping your cheeks softly. “My omega,” he whispers again, nose brushing against yours. “You’re going to be a wonderful queen. The community will thrive under our rule.”
“You promise?” You question shyly, intertwining your fingers together.
“I promise. It’s just you and me, omega.”
—
“You’re a lucky girl.”
Elder Kim brushes the hair away from your face, applying moisturizing cream to your cheeks gently. She sprinkles flecks of gold across your eyes and sprays hints of jasmine around your neck, and you don’t comment on how Jaehyun would hate it if he couldn’t smell your natural scent under the perfume.
It’s the night of the moon ceremony and you’re more nervous than you’ve ever been.
The last few weeks have been indescribable with Jaehyun, save for the haughty nature from the rest of the omegas. Ever since he publicly displayed his affection by choosing you on the coldest night, the others have declared you the enemy. Joohyun apparently cried the entire evening, sleeping next to a rigid Doyoung who showed no interest in helping her stay warm. She singled you out as a traitor for seducing her alpha and the rest of her army followed suit in the accusations against you.
“It’s not everyday the head alpha chooses an omega of your liking,” Elder Kim says with a sigh. “Jaehyun’s a stubborn one, always has been since he was a pup.”
You smile thinking about your alpha. The time together before your moon ceremony has only made the two of you more insatiable, occupying any unsupervised time with your hands all over each other. You’ve nearly gotten caught a couple of times, but as the suppressants wear off and your heat starts to itch at your skin, you fail to stave off your desire.
“He’ll be a strong head alpha,” you say as Elder Kim pulls your ceremony dress over your head. “Our district is lucky to have him.”
She regards you carefully. “I admit, I initially mistook your subservience for weakness. But I can see now why Jaehyun is so enamored by you. There’s a strength inside of you that I haven’t seen with the other omegas. It rings cause for a great leader, and I’m happy to see it reveal itself more these past few weeks.”
“Thank you, Elder Kim,” you say, offering her a thankful bow.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she murmurs jokingly. “It is said that a head alpha’s children are just as stubborn as the alpha, making them the most difficult pups to raise. Jaehyun was an unruly little boy, and I have no doubt his pups will take after their father.”
You briefly glance down at your stomach. Unbeknownst to her, your belly is already blossoming with Jaehyun’s child after many nights of sneaking around together. When you eventually appear back home, you know a few eyebrows will raise at the timeline of your pregnancy. You hold no care for idle gossip now, however, simply happy by your current state of life.
A warmth burns in your chest and you clear your throat. “Elder Kim, does it always feel this-“
“Strong?” She finishes for you, smiling when you nod. She turns you to face the mirror in the corner of the room and you finally take a look at yourself. Your skin is flushed and your eyes are dilated, making you appear more feral than you’ve ever seen yourself. “You haven’t experienced your heat in months. Tonight you will feel the after effects of the suppressants wearing off.”
A frantic knocking comes at your door and Elder Kim frowns, shouting for the person to enter. Elder Choi comes in, eyes wide in alarm.
“We have an issue.”
“What-“
“I want to see my omega now! Fuck your moronic ceremony!” Jaehyun’s booming voice shakes the entire cabin and you gasp, the sound of him being enough to send a river of slick down your core.
Elder Kim sighs, guiding you by the shoulders until you’re sitting at the edge of your bed. “Stay here while I handle your rowdy alpha.”
You clench your thighs together and lay back on the mattress, the ache of your heat spreading throughout your body. It dawns on you that if your heat was affecting you this much, Jaehyun must be loathing the intensity of his rut hitting him all at once.
The scent of your alpha wraps around you, growing stronger when you faintly hear Elder Kim shouting, “Jeong Jaehyun! That omega is not yours to claim until the moon has risen!”
Then you feel a pair of rough hands flipping you over, pulling your ass into the air and mounting you properly. It takes the strength of all the elders and the swatting of their canes to rip Jaehyun away from you, his teeth bared as he snarls in their hold. You’ve succumbed to the instincts of your heat, whining for your alpha and begging to be stuffed full of his knot.
“Get the other omegas out in the field now,” Elder Choi commands, pulling at Jaehyun’s arms as hard as she can.
“But the moon-“
“If we don’t let this alpha claim his omega in the next few minutes, he’ll kill us all.”
Elder Kim finds a way to convince your alpha to wait while Elder Lee rushes to gather the rest of the omegas outside. You feel the hands of Elder Choi lift you up gently and help you on your feet, readjusting your dress as she walks you out of your room and down the stairs.
You’re still completely out of it, murmuring Jaehyun’s name until Elder Choi soothes you, “We’re almost there, omega.” She leads you to the open field outside, where the snow is just starting to melt on the grass.
All the omegas have huddled around in a half-circle, glaring at you once they catch a whiff of Jaehyun’s scent. Soon after, the alphas filter out of their cabin one-by-one, looking just as jaded as your alpha. It’s clear all of you are reaching your limit in terms of the length of this ceremony. Elder Lee instructs them to stand on the opposite ends of the omegas, effectively completing the circle. Elder Kim is still holding Jaehyun back by his arms as he thrashes and growls from the restraint. You know he could easily break both of Elder Kim’s arms if he wanted, but he prevents himself from taking it too far. Your omega preens at the self-control of your alpha.
“Alright, status of house will decide the order,” Elder Lee says exhaustedly from the middle of the formation, her body weary from fighting Jaehyun off. “We will begin with the blood sharing ritual, and I request for Jeong Jaehyun to demonstrate it for us accordingly.”
Jaehyun easily slips out of Elder Kim’s hold and trots up to Elder Lee, taking the dagger out of her hand. He comes up to you without hesitation and Elder Choi, who is still holding you, prods you forward carefully. Jaehyun takes you into his arms, pressing kisses down the side of your face to ease the unsettled nature of your omega.
“Jaehyun,” Elder Lee reminds him in a stern voice. “The blood ritual.”
Although the omegas have been kept in the dark concerning the ins and outs of the moon ceremony, the alphas were taught at a very young age what would be expected of them when called forward. It’s why you glance warily at the dagger in Jaehyun’s hand while he shushes you softly.
“Not going to hurt you, omega,” he assures.
He takes the blade to his skin, slicing his palm open. You whine at the injury, but become perplexed when he raises his hand to your mouth. He gives you a small nod, urging you to press your lips to the skin. You hesitantly run your tongue over the wound as droplets of his blood cascade down your throat.
“The alpha and omega have become one through the blood ritual,” Elder Lee announces and the rest of the alphas and omegas clap begrudgingly.
Jaehyun cups his hand over your cheek, pulling you away from his cut and molding his lips over yours. Elder Lee clicks her tongue in disapproval but you’re lost in the world of your alpha, fists tangling in the fabric of his thin shirt to pull him closer to you. He ruts against you, his cock already fully hard.
“Jaehyun,” Elder Lee warns. Your alpha ignores her, favoring bunching up your dress in his hands instead. “Jaehyun!”
Elder Kim pushes against his back. “In the circle. You can claim your omega, but you know you must do it in the circle.”
With permission from the elders, Jaehyun leads you into the overarching trees while you stumble through the discarded branches. “Where are we going?” You question, your fingers aching to be wrapped around his cock.
“Where the moon is supposed to bless us, omega.”
You uncover a field in the middle of the woods, looking like the season has suddenly shifted into spring. The grass is clear of any evidence of snow and the birds chirp above you, highlighting the blooming flowers rupturing from the ground. Jaehyun lays you in the middle, and you bring your hand over to shield your eyes from the sudden burst of sunlight.
“W-Where are we?” You ask shakily, taken aback by the change in your surroundings.
“The moon’s circle,” he answers quietly, pulling your dress over your head to see you. His lips immediately latch onto your left nipple, grazing the peak with his teeth while you squeal. “The moon is meant to rise over us and bless us with a child.”
“Oh,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows. “But I’m pregnant with your pup already.”
“That you are, my pretty omega,” he hums, kissing down your stomach. “We didn’t need the silly moon, did we? Just you and me.”
When his tongue laps at your folds, you whine. “Jaehyun, want your knot,” you say, tugging at the strands of his hair.
“Let me get a taste of you first, greedy little thing.”
He cleans up the slick coating your thighs, lapping at your wetness even as you continue to drip into his mouth. Mewls spill out of you as you beg for Jaehyun to grant you some mercy. His tongue and his fingers won’t be able to satisfy you when you’re this deep into your heat, you need his knot, and you need it now.
“Jaehyun,” you whine again. “Please, alpha. I can’t wait any longer.”
“My poor omega,” he coos when he parts from your cunt, making his way back up to your lips. “Need your alpha’s knot? Need to be stuffed full until my cum is leaking out of you, hm?”
You whimper and nod. “Please, please, alpha. Want it so bad.”
He flips you onto your stomach, adjusting you into the same position he had you in when you were in your room. He mounts you like before, taking his cock out and slapping it against your pussy. When he pushes the tip in, your head collapses against the grass as the heat in your belly finally begins to subside.
He’s bigger than he’s ever been, and you’re not certain if it’s from his rut or being able to claim you properly or a combination of both. You scream when he stretches you out regardless, your cunt weeping from his cock splitting you in half. He doesn’t show any mercy on your shaking form, jackhammering into you roughly.
You hear a scoff above you, and your eyes lift to search for the source of the noise. You’re surprised to see Joohyun five feet away from you, arms crossed against her chest as she sneers down at you. Doyoung stands right beside her, averting his gaze from your whining form.
Jaehyun’s hand pushes roughly against your scalp. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “They’re here to watch the head alpha claim his queen, my omega.”
You assume it’s another twisted part of this morbid ceremony — for the alphas and omegas of age to watch their leader degrade his prized mate. You moan louder, putting on a show for them as you grind your hips back onto his cock. Since Jaehyun already knows what it takes to push you over the edge, he wraps his fingers around your throat, pulling your back to his front as he thrusts in deeper.
He exposes your neck for all to see, his fingers hovering over your thrumming mating gland. “Please, alpha,” you whimper. “Please, want to be your omega.”
“Say it,” Jaehyun hisses in your ear. “Say it for all of them to hear.”
“Want you to stuff me full, want to be bred with your pups,” you say without hesitation. Your eyes lock with each of the omegas surrounding you and you smile with pride. “Want you to show them how you’re mine.”
Then his teeth sink into your neck, displaying his claim for your audience to watch. Each alpha growls, their patience running thin to stake a claim on their own omegas. Jaehyun raises his head to snarl at them, effectively silencing their complaints. You shudder as you spasm around him, squeezing onto him for dear life.
“Gonna breed you,” he grunts into your ear, landing a few swats against your ass. “My pretty omega, full of my pups and begging to be stuffed full. I love you, omega, and I’m going to show you just how much.”
The first spurt of cum lurches you forward as his knot expands inside of you. He holds your body steady against his, moaning loudly as he plugs his cum into you. Like the first time, it seems as if he has endless amounts of cum to give you, most of it spilling out of your core.
“Love you, love you, love you,” he whispers into your ear the entire time before turning your head to plant his lips against yours.
A few minutes pass in silence with Jaehyun still cumming into you before Elder Lee clears her throat.
“…Well then, let us leave the future head alpha and the omega queen to their own. Now that the demonstration is over, we will complete the blood rituals and finish the ceremony for the rest of you.”
They slowly filter out of the moon’s circle while Jaehyun’s mouth continues to press against yours, gently lowering the both of you onto the grass. You barely register that they’ve all left, your focus drawn to the fact that your alpha is still rutting into you despite his swollen knot sitting at your entrance making it difficult for him to move very far.
All it takes is a few spankings to your clit for you to clench tightly around him again, gushing over his cock.
“They’re going to have to tear me away to make me stop,” he sighs, biting down on your mating gland once more. “I can’t get enough of you, omega.”
“Don’t stop, alpha, please.”
You don’t separate from Jaehyun that night until Elder Choi comes to collect you, insisting you both wash up and have something to eat in your room. Your alpha slowly fucks you in the shower before feeding you a few apple slices Elder Kim lays at your door. He then takes you again on your bed, against the wall, and on the floor.
Your heat doesn’t subside for a few days, and the elders have to force you and Jaehyun to eat and drink to stay alive. Apparently, you were the only wolves left who weren’t satisfied enough, with everyone else’s heats or ruts wearing off after a day or two.
It’s in the middle of day five when Elder Lee bursts through your door while Jaehyun is eating you out, two fingers deep into your cunt. She clears her throat but is drowned out by your moans.
“Excuse me… Jaehyun… Jeong Jaehyun!”
Jaehyun parts himself from your folds, mouth sticky and dripping from your juices.
He blinks twice before glaring at Elder Lee. “What?”
“Why I’ve never,” she mutters under her breath before tapping her cane on the wooden floors. “The ceremony has been over for days now. Your father has instructed us to return to the district.”
“Okay, have fun.”
He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at the nub roughly until you’re shaking and squirting for him.
“Jaehyun! You and the omega queen must come with us. You will be crowned head alpha as soon as we return.”
“Then my first order as head alpha is for you to leave me alone with my omega,” he says, rising to his knees and pressing his cock against your entrance. Your eyes are fluttered shut, face down in the pillows while your alpha claims you again.
“We leave tonight. If you are not on that bus, trust me, we will leave you to face the wrath of your father alone.”
The door slams shut as Jaehyun knots you for what feels like the millionth time. As his cum drifts down your thighs, he lays on top of you, being mindful of his weight against your back.
“W-What did Elder Lee say?” You ask, floating on cloud nine.
“She wants us to leave tonight,” he replies while pressing kisses against your shoulder.
“I don’t want to leave,” you whine.
You admit that you despised the ceremony when you first arrived and longed for nothing more than to be back home. Now, however, you have an alpha bonded to you and his pup growing inside of your stomach. You feel like your life has finally fallen into place, and you loathe the idea of someone bursting the happy bubble you’ve created with Jaehyun.
“I don’t either, omega,” he sighs into your skin. “But we have to go home sometime.”
A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “We have a home together, alpha,” you say, giggling and kicking your feet.
He grins, biting your ear playfully. “Yes we do, my sweet omega. A home for you and me.”
—
The first step off the bus is painful.
The wind whips at your face, causing your eyes to water. Jaehyun pulls you closer to his side, rubbing his arms over your exposed skin for warmth. You first catch sight of Sookyung, her bright smile shining through the crowd of people. Then you notice the rest of the community, some of them greeting their children and welcoming the new additions to their home. The others stare blatantly at you and Jaehyun, whispering to one another with wary expressions.
Your insecurity grows tenfold before you see your mother running to you, enveloping you into her arms as she cries gently.
“You did so well,” she mumbles into your ear. “You’ve made us so proud.”
When you offer your father and Sookyung your greetings, they part to make room for Jaehyun’s family to step forward. Jaehyun’s father looks like an identical copy of him, the only difference being the gray streaks in his hair and the wrinkles near his eyes. His mother is the type of omega the elders desired for you to mold yourself after, her gaze averted to the floor and her hands folded neatly across her stomach. His brother, Sungchan, is only a few years younger but it’s clear he’s a Jeong from the way he stands tall and confidently looks at you.
“Father,” Jaehyun gruffly greets him, intertwining his hand with yours. “This is my omega.”
“Alpha Jeong,” you say courteously, offering a polite bow.
Jaehyun’s father gives you a hurried look before narrowing his eyes. “The elders informed me they had to make verbal threats in order to get you two out of bed.”
You glance down bashfully as Jaehyun smirks. “A ceremony for a head alpha is more intense than any other wolf, I’m sure you remember.”
“You’re not head alpha yet,” his father bites back in a stern tone. He scans the area to ensure no one else heard his outburst. “We will return home and discuss this matter privately.”
You give Jaehyun a worried look but he simply smiles, leaning over to kiss you reassuringly. He holds your hand the entire walk back to his house, a grand estate gifted to the head alpha’s family that stretched for acres and acres of unoccupied land. Sookyung’s eyes nearly pop out of her head when you arrive.
Numerous beta staff greet you at the entrance, taking the bags from your arms and rushing to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
“My office,” Jaehyun’s father barks at your alpha.
Jaehyun presses another kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be fine, omega. You go ahead and wait in our room for me.”
Jaehyun’s mother smiles at you when Jaehyun disappears upstairs, offering to show your family to your new living quarters. She leads you into a master bedroom on the top floor, the interior covered wall to wall in artwork that looked like it was taken out of a museum. A king sized bed sits in the middle of the floor, clothed with luxurious silk sheets and more pillows than you’ve ever seen in your life.
“We had it remodeled in preparation for your arrival,” Jaehyun’s mother shares, her obedient smile never wavering.
“I am honored by your hospitality, my queen,” you thank her, mesmerized by the state of your new room.
Jaehyun’s mother nods politely before she and your parents slip away to find their own rooms. Sookyung squeals in excitement at the size of the closet, chatting about all of the new dresses she plans on purchasing for you with your newly acquired wealth.
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” you say to Sookyung, who is wrapped up in the various perfumes spread out on your vanity mirror.
She waves you off and you sneak down the hallway, searching for the office belonging to Jaehyun’s father. You come across a small room near the staircase, and your heart jumps when you hear yelling from the other side of the closed door.
“-Shame to our family! Can you imagine what your mother and I thought when Elder Kim reported back that you chose some lowborn omega as the future matriarch of this household?”
Glass smashes against the wall and you almost gasp in surprise. “Talk about my omega like that one more time and I will rip you in half,” Jaehyun snarls.
“You are a child,” his father’s voice seethes. “We have spoiled you for far too long and I will not tolerate it any further. I was already hesitant when you began this schoolyard crush on her but I should’ve known well enough that you would see it the whole way through. I have half a mind to name Sungchan as head alpha instead.”
“Go ahead,” Jaehyun scoffs. Your hand trembles at the firmness in his tone. “Your threats mean nothing to me. It won’t change the fact that I love the omega I’ve bonded with, and I will love our child more than you ever loved me.”
“…You’ve already impregnated her?”
“Yes, father,” Jaehyun replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “We didn’t leave the bed for days, remember?”
Guilt sinks deep into your bones and you unsteadily hobble back to your room. Sookyung’s admiring the silk sheets laid over your new bed, but she frowns when she sees you. She rushes to your side, helping you sit down on the edge of the mattress.
“Are you alright?” She questions, raising the back of her hand to your forehead to check for a fever.
“I-I’m just a little nauseous.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful sign!” She giggles, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Nausea is one of the first signs of pregnancy. Allow me a moment, I will request for the cooks to make a recipe one of the elders taught me to soothe your stomach.”
She rushes out the door and you sigh, resting your hands over the top of your stomach. Tears well in your eyes, fear sinking in that your presence has only made Jaehyun’s life worse. You knew this would happen from the moment he pursued you yet you allowed it to continue regardless of the consequences.
Hands rest on your thighs and soft kisses press against your face while you sob. “My pretty omega,” Jaehyun says, voice strained. “What’s wrong? Do you not like the room? Do you need to make a new nest?”
“Your family hates me,” you reply, shaking your head. “I’m a burden to you.”
“Stop that,” he growls, wiping the tears falling down your cheeks. “I never want to hear you say that again.”
“It’s true. You shouldn’t have chosen me as your omega. I knew it well enough but I disobeyed the elders and now your father threatens to take away your leadership as head alpha.”
He rests his forehead against yours. “Please, omega. You and our pup mean everything to me. I never want you to think you’re not good enough. I thought we left all of that nonsense behind at the ceremony?”
“Jaehyun,” you say, still sobbing furiously. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to shower my omega with the love she deserves until she realizes she’s more than enough for me.”
He envelops you into his arms and lays the both of you against the pillows, licking your tears away. His hand rests protectively over your stomach. Your cries turn into giggles when he continues to pepper kisses all over your face.
“My sweet omega,” he coos. “Never want to see you cry again. It breaks my heart.”
You sniffle and nod. “I just don’t want to crush your dreams.”
“My dream was always you, omega. Being head alpha means nothing to me if I don’t have you. And you mustn’t worry about my father, his words have always been empty threats.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
He’s proven right when Jaehyun is crowned head alpha the next day. From dusk until dawn, the community celebrates the rise of their new leader, accompanied by mountains of food and the elders dancing happily in a circle until their feet have blisters. Jaehyun keeps you by his side as each member comes up to you, congratulating Jaehyun as the new head alpha and you as the new omega queen. Your alpha is particularly chuffed when one certain couple approaches you.
“My queen,” Joohyun says with a polite bow, curling her hands into fists. “We pray to the moon to grant you and the head alpha a happy coupling.”
“May the moon bless you with many pups,” Doyoung echoes next to her, keeping his stare far away from you.
Jaehyun narrows his eyes at him and smirks. “Yes, we do hope for another pup to add to the household,” he says before his hand curls softly around your stomach. “They would make a great sibling to this one.”
You smile and rest your hand on top of Jaehyun’s. “Yes, we have been expecting for quite a while now.”
You watch her mind run through the timeline before she smiles tightly.
“May the moon bless this pup and more to come, my queen.”
The night ends with Jaehyun claiming you in your new bed, hips snapping roughly as he molds his lips over yours. “My omega,” he whispers into your mouth. “All mine, right? No one else?”
“Just you,” you pant, whimpering when his thrusts pick up speed. “Only want you, Jaehyun.”
“And you’ll only ever have me, omega.”
As he fucks you until the sun rises over the horizon, you wonder if this is what heaven feels like.
—
You’re six months into your pregnancy and your hormones are running wild.
Sookyung dotes on you hand and foot when Jaehyun isn’t around. As head alpha, he’s normally gone during the day to train new wolves and ensure the community is stable. He doesn’t float back into your shared bed until after the moon rises. You don’t complain much since you understand his duties are crucial to the heart of your district, but you still long for him when he’s away.
Before he leaves every morning, he checks your nest to secure all of the blankets holding the walls up and offers you his shirt from the night before to ease your omega with his scent. You spend the majority of the morning curled up in your nest with his shirt tucked under your chin, breathing in his scent and quelling your nerves.
One particular day, however, has your emotions darting all over the place.
Sookyung tells you later that you were inconsolable, crying for your alpha and refusing to speak with anyone who wasn’t him. You turned down all of the meals the staff offered you and growled at them when they drew anywhere near your nest. Your feral behavior forced Sookyung to fetch Jaehyun from the training grounds, bringing him back to your whimpering form as you curled into a ball in the middle of the bed.
“My poor omega,” he murmurs as he climbs into your nest, pulling your back to his chest. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re always gone,” you say in a small voice, and Jaehyun swears his heart shatters into two. “You’re always leaving me and you don’t love me anymore.”
The reasonable part of your brain echoes that your over dramatics is a result of the next head alpha growing inside of you. Elder Kim warned you when she visited you a week prior, taking a glance at your struggling figure as you shakily rose from the couch to greet her.
“That pup inside of you will be a strong one, my queen,” she said to you with a stern tapping of her cane. “I was with Jaehyun’s mother when she first got pregnant with him. That pup nearly drove her from a graceful queen into a feral mutt.”
You think back on her words now, as you thrash against Jaehyun’s hold in an attempt to get him far away from you.
His voice sounds utterly heartbroken. “My omega, how could you ever think that? You’re my whole world, all I want to do is occupy every minute of every day with you. I love you more than anything else.”
“Then why are you always spending every waking second away from me?” You hiss back at him.
He growls at your bratty behavior. “Omega, you know I have responsibilities to the community. I would much rather be with you than be out there training those unruly pups, you know that.”
You huff, telling him he’s making excuses as you continue to face away from him. You feel one hand grip the inside of your thigh roughly before he’s propping it against his hip. His cock grinds into your clothed puffy folds until you whine.
“I know what you need,” he says into your ear, your wetness spilling out of your underwear and coating his tip. “My baby omega needs her alpha to give her his knot, hm? Show her how much he loves her with his seed?”
You bite down on your hand to prevent a moan from spilling from your lips. Jaehyun has learned that your sudden bouts of arousal was another side effect from your pregnancy, with you sometimes interrupting his council meetings just so he could mount you against the dirt floor outside. Often when you get needy like this, he knows it’s because you want his cock to stuff you full.
He rips your underwear off before pressing his tip against your entrance. “Tell me you know how much your alpha loves you, omega, or you won’t get my knot today.”
“I-I know,” you blubber, pushing back on him. “I know, alpha. You love me so much.”
“Yes, I do,” he hums as his cock stretches you open. “I love you and our pup in your belly more than any of these other fucking wolves. It pisses me off, knowing that I spend more time with them than you.”
The reminder springs tears in your eyes again. In the span of a few minutes, you shift from rage to lust to sorrow.
“I wish you were here all the time.”
He gently flips you on your back, hovering over your frame and leaning down to kiss you. You know your words cut through him like a knife. You’ve learned after months of being mated to Jaehyun that he didn’t care much for other people’s opinions except for you. When his father screamed at him for impregnating a lowborn omega, Jaehyun sent him off to live at the furthest end of the estate so that you wouldn’t have to hear his insults. When the elders complained about you not stepping up to your duties as omega queen by teaching the younger omegas how to clean and cook, Jaehyun threatened to exile them from the community for speaking down at you. But when you confronted your alpha about the beta staff in your household not being paid their correct dues, he signed off on raises for every working member without question.
It scares you sometimes how much power you hold over him.
It’s why you know your accusations of him abandoning you cut deep, but the words fall from your mouth without a filter.
“I’m going to figure out a way to be here more often, my omega,” he whispers into your skin. “I promise I’m not going to let you feel this way again.”
Minutes pass before you’re clenching down on him and he’s spilling inside of you, the base of his knot swelling as he pumps his seed deep inside your womb. He holds you in his arms when he’s finished, stroking your hair gently.
“I’m sorry I said all of that,” you say shyly. “I didn’t mean it. I understand you have to handle the future of our district.”
“Omega, don’t apologize for silly things. I’m the one who’s sorry for ever making you feel this way. I will speak to the elders tomorrow about carving out more time in my day for you and our pup.”
“You don’t have to-“
“I want to, omega.”
“I hope this pup isn’t as stubborn as you are,” you grumble, glancing down at your bulging stomach.
He smiles, dimples peeking out. “I hope they’re just like their pretty mama.”
—
“Be careful, Seojeong. You don’t want to injure Hyojung permanently, do you?”
The younger girl frowns and pouts, apologizing to her comrade and laying down her sword. You smile gently and offer her a nod of appreciation, your hands resting over your protruding bump.
“Please take a seat, my queen. I’m certain your feet are tired from standing all day.”
You shake your head at Elder Choi. “I’m doing perfectly fine. I want to be here when they learn this.”
Shortly after your hormonal blubbering to Jaehyun, he passed a new rule within the community wherein the younger omegas would be taught by the omega queen in the same training grounds as the younger alphas. It was initially met with pushback, as the elders deemed it unseemly for omegas to be practicing sparring in any format and with the alphas in proximity, of all people. Jaehyun, however, understood how important it was for omegas to learn combat if they ever faced any real danger.
You also know he developed the law so he could get to spend more time with you.
You look across the yard to watch him presiding over the alphas, eyes surveying them as they spar one another. His gaze lifts up and locks on you, and a smile stretches over his face. Eventually, he’s jogging over to your form, one hand cupped over your stomach while he kisses your lips. The other omegas coo at the sight of their head alpha and omega queen displaying such affection.
“How are you?” He mumbles softly. “Are you feeling okay?”
Last week, the community unfortunately lost an omega during childbirth, the pup being her third son. The newborn baby made it out safely but the mother passed away due to complications from the delivery. Since then, everyone has been on their toes around you, worried about the birth of the next head alpha as you near your nine-month mark. Jaehyun especially indulged you, never drawing his attention away from you for too long.
“I’m doing just fine, alpha,” you giggle, stroking his cheek fondly.
“The omega queen is teaching the others very well,” Elder Kim says to Jaehyun from her spot in her chair. She pauses knitting the scarf in her lap. “They have made good progress, alpha.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he says, scanning the vicinity to see a myriad of wolves improving their battle skills. It filled his alpha with pride to watch the community flourish under his rule. He nudges his nose against your cheek. “Maybe we should retire for the day, my omega.”
“Jaehyun, I’m fine-”
A sharp pain in your abdomen causes you to gasp and double over. The yard falls into complete silence before the elders are scrambling, multiple hands grabbing your arms and propping you against them. Yelling ensues, the majority of it coming from your alpha barking orders.
“Fetch the midwives now!”
“If I see one bead of sweat fall from her perfect face, I’ll break your fucking limbs.”
“Everyone clear the fucking area! Go home and pray to the moon you worship so much!”
“Jaehyun,” you manage to choke out while Elder Lee is throwing your arm over her shoulder. The alpha turns back to you, a terrified look in his eyes. You smile and brush his hair back with your fingers. “Please shut up.”
Jaehyun keeps his lips sealed shut while the elders and nearby omegas help you into the nearest home. They bang the door open, and you hear a few surprised screams fill the air.
“W-What’s the meaning of this?”
You look up to see Joohyun and her beta handmaiden on the couch of her living room.
“Clear the room,” Elder Choi instructs in a stern tone. “The queen has gone into labor.”
There’s a mix of shuffling before you’re gently being laid down on the floor, surrounded by piles and piles of blankets as more omegas emerge through the door to bring their offerings. It was custom for all omegas to be present during the birth of the next head alpha, bearing gifts of pillows and comforters to ensure the omega queen’s relief during birth.
Jaehyun holds your hand tightly next to you, propping up your head on one of the pillows and staring down at you with concern. You smile and squeeze his hand to relieve his stress. You look to the other side of you to see Joohyun hovering warily, startled by the unanticipated presence of nearly every omega in the community filling her home.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly to her through the chaos. The midwives have finally arrived and are instructing the rest of the group how to position themselves. “I didn’t mean to burden you like this.”
“You didn’t burden me, my queen,” Joohyun replies obediently. “It is an honor to be able to accept the birth of the next head alpha into my home.”
“Don’t lie,” you say, patting her hand softly. “It’s unbecoming of you.”
The corner of her lips quirk up in amusement.
One of the midwives lays a damp cloth over your forehead. She checks your pulse before preparing your lower half for the delivery. You keep your eyes on Jaehyun the entire time, who frantically darts his gaze back and forth between the multiple midwives discussing the best practices.
“My alpha,” you murmur, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. He offers you a wide eyed look and you laugh. “I’d like to hear your voice now.”
“You’re doing so good for me, my omega,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours. “Going to give birth to such a beautiful pup.”
“Alpha Jeong, you must leave us. It is custom for the head alpha to wait outside while the pup is born.”
A whine escapes your throat at the same time Jaehyun’s head snaps to Elder Kim, baring his teeth and growling. The room grows quiet at their head alpha’s displeasure.
“I am not leaving my omega here alone, is that understood?”
You witness a crowd of tentative nods before the most excruciating pain of your life rips through you. Your back bends off the floor as you scream in agony, and another hand grasps onto you for dear life. You blink twice before Sookyung’s blurry figure comes into vision. She nods happily at you, tears streaming down her cheeks. You know she’s waited longer than you for this day to finally arrive.
You give birth to a healthy pup after hours of intense contractions and moans of discomfort. Jaehyun stays by your side through all of it, gripping your hand and kissing your face lovingly.
As you complete your last push and your baby’s cries fill the air, you’re shocked when the midwife shakily says, “It’s a girl.”
The omegas in the room gasp. Every single one of them thought you were due to have an alpha male from how strong your pregnancy had been. The midwife hands Jaehyun your pup and he looks down at her with warmth filling his gaze.
He says with tears spilling over his eye line, “Praise for the next head alpha.”
—
“Mama, mama!”
You grunt as your youngest daughter rams into the back of your leg. You turn to pick her up, ceasing your watch from the omegas on the training yard. The sun beats down on all of your figures and you wipe the sweat from your brow.
“What is it, my little troublemaker?”
Then, your oldest daughter also collides into your stomach, pointing at your youngest accusingly.
“She’s lying!”
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are!”
“I haven’t even said anything!”
“Girls,” you say, giving them both a cross look. “One at a time.”
Your youngest pipes up first. “She threw mud into Jihoon’s face!”
“She’s lying!”
“Am not!”
“Am too!”
“Alright,” Jaehyun sighs, approaching you after watching you struggle to hold in your laugh. “What’s going on here?”
“Your daughter threw mud into Doyoung’s son’s face,” you summarize, one eyebrow raised at him. He snickers into his palm and you elbow him. “Jaehyun.”
He fixes his expression, staring at your oldest with a stern look. “Is that the proper behavior of the next head alpha?”
Your oldest daughter hangs her head sullenly. “No,” she grumbles.
He crouches down and plays with the ten-year-old’s pigtails. “You can throw all the mud you want when you’re the next head alpha, sweetheart, but only to people who deserve it,” he says with a fond smile.
“Jaehyun,” you hiss as you kick him lightly.
“But he did deserve it, daddy! He was telling me how cute I am. I am not cute!”
Your alpha’s face shifts into one of a protective father. “And where is this boy?”
“Jaehyun,” you sigh one last time. You place your youngest on the ground and stare at your oldest in disapproval. “I won’t have any more reports of disobedience from you. You’re going to be a good little wolf and apologize to that boy.”
“Yes, mama.”
The two children take off running down the yard, holding hands like they never fought in the first place. You stare at your alpha, arms crossed over your chest. He’s still looking after your girls with a frown on his face.
“I don’t want you finding that boy and scolding him, Jaehyun.”
“She’s too young for suitors,” your alpha exhales, running his fingers through his hair.
“I remember a much younger version of myself pushing around the man who would become my bonded mate too,” you say, stepping forward and kissing him softly.
He huffs. “That’s not going to happen for her any time soon.”
“You have to let them grow up, alpha,” you say affectionately, nuzzling your head into his neck. “Maybe I can help you take your mind off it.”
Your hand slithers down his chest and he growls when you get dangerously close to his stiffened cock. He leans over to nip at your ear.
“And how did I get stuck with such a little minx for an omega?”
this fic was posted for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!
Summary: Jaehyun has a ruthless, cruel and not so legal way of getting his clients everything they want out of their divorce. After all, to do the job right, a lawyer like him is not supposed to believe something like 'love' exists in the first place. That is until he meets his next client who also has a not so legal way of creeping right into his heart and make him question all his morals.
A/N: Man, I miss Jaehyun :( D-541
“I want to divorce my husband.”
Jaehyun hadn’t spared you, the young woman who had been following him since the lobby, a single glance, purposefully ignoring every word you were trying to direct at him as he walked hurriedly and steadily to the elevators.
He was already running late that morning thanks to a fight with the parking attendant since apparently, his permission for the parkade had run out last night. And now, an annoying woman blocking the elevator doors after he had gotten in and hindering Jaehyun from reaching his office’s floor was a bit of a stretch at this ungodly hour. Eventually, he couldn’t ignore your existence anymore.
“Move,” he demanded, annoyed.
“I won’t,” you objected.
Pressing the ‘close’-button over and over again, Jaehyun rolled his eyes at your perseverance as not even the heavy doors hitting your arms could chase you away. He stared at you, observing the persistence mirrored in your eyes as you pushed the doors aside again. He silently gave you credit for that.
“I want to divorce my husband,” you said again. “And I need you to successfully do so!”
Jaehyun let his eyes wander as you had piqued his interest ultimately. Your stubborn spirit reminded him a little bit of himself. But only a little bit. He examined you thoroughly. You were dressed elegantly in a pencil skirt, blouse and high heels. No wrinkles in your clothes, hair tidily pulled out of your face, not a strand out of order. You dressed like the average woman approaching him for his help: trophy wives in their thirties up to fifties, trapped in a marriage that was falling apart for always one and the same reason,
the lack of love.
In these kinds of marriages, mutual love rarely existed anymore. It was the same pattern again and again: The woman went blindly and head over heels in love into the marriage and throughout time, got frustrated with their lives as their marriage turned out entirely different from what they had imagined. The husband was almost never at home, business was always more important, and rarely did a case not involve cheating.
A person who had once been a naive woman in love had usually changed into a vengeful wife who wanted to take her husband to the cleaners by the time they consulted Jaehyun’s law firm. After all, they didn’t believe in love anymore, and that was why his job was so easy, and even a little bit of fun.
But there was one difference that made you stand out significantly from all of his past clients, Jaehyun silently remarked to himself as his gaze stopped on your face: You were young. So, so young.
“Divorce your husband?” he repeated your words. “Aren’t you too young to be married for long enough yet?”
Your expression darkened, but he took it as a challenge. It wouldn’t be the first time he clashed with a potential client. As a matter of fact, it wouldn’t be a successful case for him if his client wouldn’t start hating him at some point - and then preaching him to the heavens when he got them all they had asked for in the process, and more.
“Do you want this case or not?” you retorted. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”
Jaehyun raised a brow. Straightforward and witty. He hadn’t expected that from an early twenty-something. Perhaps, he should pay weight to your words, the fact that he wouldn’t regret it. Judging by your age alone, there was surely more to the story, and he was curious to get under the surface of it all.
Jaehyun removed his hand from the ‘close’-button while simultaneously a moment of relief flashed through his face - along with a grin.
The door stayed open as he asked, “How long have you been married for?”
“Two and a half years.”
That was nothing.
“Is there a prenup?”
“Yes.”
As always.
“What’s your husband’s name?”
You hesitated.
In a lot of cases, Jaehyun knew his client’s spouses just by their name. Wives of CEOs, chairmen, actors, doctors, politicians, investors … they all came to him.
“Kang Seungmin.”
Jaehyun almost visibly took in an exasperated breather.
“Kang Seungmin who is related to the Aewha Group?”
You nodded. “His older brother is the CEO.”
Pause.
“Be here tomorrow, 8am.”
____
You remembered the day you got married like it was yesterday.
You weren’t wearing your dream wedding dress.
Your dress was a designer that your husband’s mother had picked out. It had been too voluminous, too heavy, and it hadn’t suited your style at all. Your makeup had made it hard for you to recognize yourself and they had put too many extensions in your hair. But that was what they had wanted you to look like - and you had complied.
It wasn’t your dream wedding venue.
It had taken place at the Shilla Hotel and you hadn’t had any say in the decoration, it was all white and beige when you had wanted sprinkles of purple, your favorite color. The cake was vanilla flavored when you had wanted blueberry, and the program had involved a choir, not a band. But that was what they had wanted the reception to be like - and you had complied.
Your friends and family weren’t there.
You hadn’t known a single person at the wedding except for your future husband’s family. When you had been sitting there, feeling lonely and left out, there was no one you could have turned to, no familiar and friendly face. Your guests were all only business partners and your new family’s friends - and you had complied.
You had never felt so lonely in your life like on the day that was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. But you had complied with everything, because you had been so, so in love.
And what was left of that now?
“So, Mrs. Kang,” Mr. Jeong started the next morning after you had appeared in front of his office at 8am sharp. “After you have filled out all the information about you and your husband, I just want to know one thing…”
“Which is…?”
You hoped he didn’t notice how you kept your shaking legs in place with your palms pressing on top of your thighs. You knew exactly what was coming and you were prepared for that, but it always made you nervous, regardless of how many times someone would bring this topic up. And it happened almost every time.
“What is it that you’re after?”
You were confused. That wasn’t what you had expected. “Pardon me?”
The lawyer took off his glasses with which he had previously read through your information carefully and put them next to him on the desk. Then, he propped his elbows against the table and leaned in to you. It was very intimidating as if he wanted to look straight into your soul to detect every lie that could possibly pass your lips.
But there was nothing for you to lie about.
“What do you want out of this marriage, Mrs. Kang?” he carefully elaborated. “Money? The house? Company shares? I can get you everything.”
“In all honesty, Mr. Jeong,” you admitted, “I don’t want any of his money, belongings, mansions and company shares. I just want to get out of this marriage and never be involved with this family again. That’s all I want.”
He let out a long sigh and closed the file with your information.
“Are you… done?” you asked.
“Yes. With you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t want anything? No money, no mansions, no company shares? Then, where is the thrill? What do you need me for?” The lawyer leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms behind his head. “I think it’s better for you to look for another lawyer.”
“His material possessions were not the reason I was trying to find consultation with you.” You stayed calm and didn’t want to get irritated by his change in demeanor. “I grew up wealthy already, Mr. Jeong. I’m not dependent on his money. When I turned eighteen, I inherited the trust fund my parents had opened up for me the day I was born. It’s enough to live comfortably until… well, the end of my days.”
“So, you are two wealthy people who have married and you don’t want to take anything from him just out of spite. According to the law, the trust fund still rightfully belongs to you as it had been handed over to you prior to your marriage.” If he was confused by your statement, then he didn’t let it slip. “So, what is it that makes divorcing him so difficult then, Mrs. Kang? What is it that you’re after, exactly? I know there is something after all.”
“It’s not what I’m after. It’s what he is after.” You reached down to your bag, pulling out a file that you then attentively placed on the lawyer’s desk. “Here is a copy of my prenup. Please open page 35. I highlighted the most important parts.”
He put back on his glasses and opened the documents at the respective page. You visibly saw his brows furrow at the paragraph that you had pointed out.
“So, it’s the other way around. In case of a divorce, it’s not him who will lose everything,” the lawyer concluded. “But you will lose everything, and it will be all transcribed to him. Your trust fund money, your possessions, everything from before your marriage even…” He stilled. “Just… everything.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Kang, but…” He looked at you in utter disbelief. And the worst thing was that you couldn’t even blame him. You were very ashamed of yourself, too. “How could you have even signed this in the first place? I have never seen a prenup like this in my entire career. But then again, I've only been practicing in my own law firm for a short few years….”
He was straightforward with a certain sharpness lying on his tongue that tended to take a derogatory way at times. This lawyer had surely seen so much already, but according to his words, this must just be an entire new level of naiveness he hadn’t encountered ever before.
“I was young and in love.”
There was certainly no other explanation you wanted to give him yet, even though he was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to elaborate the decision and specifically the situation you had been in when signing this agreement. But again, you had to disappoint him. You would have still signed the papers if the circumstances had been different, you were certain of that. Why would it matter if you left out an additional reason?
The lawyer let out a long sigh. It was like you could hear his thoughts in your own mind: Such a naive, stupid girl, getting married so young and signing away all her rights just to be with a powerful man forever, out of blinded love. You endured it like so many other things in your life.
“Love.” He snorted, confirming your thoughts, and closed the marriage contract with a thud. “It’s absolutely good for nothing. You clients prove it to me every time.”
You tilted your head. “Just because I’m getting divorced doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love anymore, Mr. Jeong. Those are two very different things.”
“I’m aware of the fact that my clients almost all get married out of love like you,” he corrected himself strictly and made his standpoint clear to you. “Now, wanting a divorce from the person who you once had such strong feelings for… how can you still believe in something that has failed you so thoroughly?”
“But love hasn’t failed me,” you objected. “It’s the person who failed me. And just because that certain man has let me down, doesn’t mean someone else will, too. There is not only one person in the world to love. I’m not going to say I hate all men and will never meet someone I can open myself up to again, Mr. Jeong. I suppose that’s what the majority of people who come here say to you, am I right? But I won’t. There are people in their fifties finding love all over again, so if I have to wait another thirty years just to experience the same, I will willingly do so. I will never give up hope, I won’t let spite devour me whole. I will wait for my time to come.”
He had fallen into silence and his gaze was impenetrable while you kept talking and eventually came to an end. The Lawyer was either baffled by your naivete once again, or you had sincerely taken him by surprise and the usually so witty man for once, since your meeting, didn’t know what to reply.
“You’re so full of positivity, Mrs. Kang, it almost makes me feel sick. Where is your anger, your vengefulness?” he eventually responded, and you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. “But since you don’t seem to have my clients’ usual bitterness and grimness to drive by, we will rely on your insolent positivity to win this case. Or stupidness, depending on how you view your case.”
You had never been so subtly attacked and complimented at the same time, but since it was coming from the ruthless attorney himself, you put more weight on the latter. “Whatever works for me, I guess.”
He folded his forearms on the table and leaned forward, closer to you, narrowing his eyes before he almost whispered, “But there is one thing I always demand from my clients to win a case and my trust eventually. Without this certain thing, you will lose both.”
You inhaled deeply in expectation. “And that is…?”
“The entire truth.” The response was so simple, but you sensed there was more depth in it. “If I ask you something, you’re going to tell me the truth. You cannot conceal or hide anything. There cannot be a detail that you consider too irrelevant or something that you consider too embarrassing to tell me. You will tell me everything I ask for and not ask for, are we clear?”
At this moment, you felt like he was staring right into your soul, marking this a make it or break it point for your business relationship. If you lied, would he be able to detect right away? Or was he bluffing and only wanted to intimidate you? Had he already sensed that you had left out an important aspect in your marriage?
“We are very much clear.”
A grin flashed across his face, making you frown. “Very well. Then I need you to do the exact opposite.”
“The opposite? Then… I should lie?”
“Exactly. And please don’t hit me with the ‘I cannot lie, I’m a sincere person, I cannot hurt someone’ bullshit. We don’t do that here. In order to win what you want, you have to play dirty. Be honest with me, but when I need you to lie and do reprehensible things, you have to comply. Do you think you can do this, little miss sunshine? Or are we way too sincere and positive for that?”
“I’m sorry, if you mean playing dirty do yo-”
“Can you do that?” he interrupted you. “This is the only thing I need to know. Can you play dirty when I need you to?”
This shouldn’t surprise you. Deep down, you had always known what kind of lawyer he was. Everyone knew. That was why you had eventually seeked out for him. You couldn’t win this case on your own or with any lawyer, it had to be him. You had tried so hard and had approached not only attorneys in this city, but all over the country - to no avail.
This lawyer was your last resort, and never had you thought you would go this far. But if you had to lie and play dirty if asked to break free from your golden cage, then that was what you were going to do.
If you had to play dirty to see your family again, then you would do so.
You gulped, but still brought out, “I can do that.”
Even though it came reluctantly, he still believed you and said with a satisfied smile, “Very well, ma’am.”
_____
“So, this is the golden cage that you’re always referring to.” Your lawyer stood in the lobby, inspecting the entrance location. “Interesting.”
It was an odd sight for you - to have your divorce lawyer, who was technically still a stranger even after meeting a few times in his firm, in the home that you were sharing with your husband. But then again, in these two and a half years here together, your house had always been filled with only strangers and people you weren’t fond of, so this wasn’t quite a new experience.
Your home was a multistory penthouse in a high rise building in one the city’s wealthiest neighborhood, because another quarter was a degradation for your husband’s family’s status. It was all too modernly and minimalistically designed with no touch of personal memories in the form of pictures or belongings. The furniture was too clean, the art too abstract, the rooms too empty. It had always felt more like a museum rather than a home for you - grand, impressive and utterly overwhelming.
You had spent days endlessly wandering between the floors and looking out of the gigantic window across the river out of which one side of the penthouse was entirely crafted, spanning over two levels. This was the only thing you liked about your home as it was easier to dream yourself away while watching the sunset. Many times, you had imagined living on the other side of the river, too. Where it wasn’t all filled with stuck up millionaires, people too focused on changing their appearances and overall shallowness.
You had tried so hard to connect with this life, but even though you had grown up wealthily on this side of the river as well, there was one thing you were missing but had been showered with all throughout your childhood right until your marriage: love, comfort, warmth.
“I wonder how much this is?”
Your lawyer had picked up an ornate porcelain vase from the side table and threw it into the air. Your heart nearly stopped as you watched the decor flying off and gasped. Reaching out your hands, you tried to catch the vase yourself, but a moment later, it was landing safely in your lawyer’s hands again, who then turned to you, grinning.
“I guess it's very expensive,” he concluded.
You yanked the vase out of his hands and returned it to where it belonged. “Don’t do that again! This decor is finely picked out by my in-laws, and if there is only one vase slightly out of arrangement or one single statue looking in the wrong direction when they come over - which is almost every day - hell will break loose.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s exactly what I imagined after what you told me about them. How can someone endure living here anyway?”
“I’m tougher than you think, Mr. Jeong.”
“Hm.” His eyes then fell on your appearance and scanned you up and down. “At first glance, you look like you totally belong here with your pantsuit and perfectly styled hair.”
“Just because I look like I belong here, doesn’t mean I do, Mr. Jeong.”
“Wise words for someone so young who doesn’t always make wise decisions, ma’am.”
You exhaled deeply. “Can we get over this as quickly as possible? You came here for a reason, right? Let’s get seated on the living room and-”
“Seats won’t be necessary,” he waved off. “You have to show me around your home.”
“And why would I have to do that?”
“Your husband is overseas on a business trip you’ve said, and I have to get a picture of the physical possessions, with how much money we’re dealing with apart from bank accounts, shares and all that stuff.”
“I see, that makes sense. But nothing here belongs to me, though.”
“That’s even better.” He turned around. “Which room is that?”
“The living room.”
“Great. Let’s start there.” Your lawyer entered the area as though he knew the place by heart while questioning, “You mentioned your in-laws visit here every day, Mrs. Kang?”
“Almost,” you partially affirmed while following him. “I guess they can’t let go of their son… and their need to control me.”
“What would they need to control about you? Are you somehow involved in their business?”
Your lawyer looked around in the gigantic living room that faced the panorama window reaching from the ground to the ceiling on the second floor. The sofa was placed in the middle of the area, right in a pit that was accessible by two steps built into the ground, encircling a marble coffee table probably worth a single-family house. Right next to it was a billiard table, most likely valuable just as much. This was going to be a very long evening, considering the inventory and the prices.
“I’m not involved in their business, Mr. Jeong.” You paused for a short while, invisible struggling with something inwardly. But you came to the conclusion that if you couldn’t tell your attorney, who then? “In fact, I’m secretly building my own one.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Which kind of business?”
You remained silent for a few moments until he shifted to you and looked at you with inquiring eyes. “A bridal shop.”
You had already prepared a few witty responses, because whenever you told people about your business idea, they started laughing at you. Especially your in-laws. They had laughed at you so hard and shrugged your idea off immediately that you had never brought it up to them ever again. And your husband? He hadn’t even acknowledged it. You were not allowed to work in this marriage anyway.
That was why you almost desperately needed to win this case and all your money back - to fulfill your dream and reunite with your family. You could do that. That was how much you believed in yourself. Just nobody else ever did.
“So you like wedding dresses, ma’am?” your lawyer asked almost in passing, but there was no mocking undertone in his voice. “Somehow very ironic for someone who’s filing for divorce, don’t you think?”
“It’s my passion, Mr. Jeong.”
“How come?”
“I told you I will always have hope and I will always believe in love. That’s what I want to pass on as a message to someone like me. Someone who has found the love of their life, no matter for the first, second or third time, someone full of hope and brightness. Just because you haven’t experienced it yet or because one love has ended, doesn’t mean you’ll never experience this special kind of connection ever. It makes me happy to be part of something so significant. It keeps me going, it keeps me… hopeful, you know.”
“So you want to be part of other people’s special day to keep the thought alive that one day, you will still find the love of your life?”
You clicked your tongue over the fact that everything coming out of his mouth sounded so… negative. “If you want to put it like this… I rather see it as an opportunity to share your happiness with equal minded people.”
“Why wedding dresses and not flowers then? Isn’t it more fulfilling to bring joy to people’s everyday life with flowers they give someone else most of the time?”
“You’re right, Mr. Jeong.” You smiled as you did not disagree with each other on this topic. “But my mother is a fashion designer and my father is an art dealer, so that’s the natural trajectory of my life. I love fashion, even if it doesn’t look like it. But there is only very little you can experiment with style-wise when all eyes are on you and you have to keep up a certain reputation according to your in-laws. I hide a lot of pent-up creativity not many people know of.”
“Oh, who would have guessed you’re not always all pantsuits and pencil skirts, Mrs. Kang.” He shrugged. “So you truly believe in it?”
“In what?”
“In love that lasts a lifetime.”
“As I said, Mr. Jeong… if we cease to believe in love… what is there to live for?”
"Wealth. Popularity. Freedom. Fun.” He snickered, but not in a way in which he made fun of you. He was more impressed by his own funny answer.
“But you have no one to share this with. Doesn’t your happiness then only last for so long?”
“Oh, I do have people to share this all with. Just because finding love is not my priority doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the company of beautiful women.”
You let out a deep sigh, but he shrugged your reaction off. Despite that, you had ended the topic on a good note, because for the very first time ever, you were allowed to talk about your passion without getting cut off immediately.
By that time, you had already arrived at the kitchen. It was an impressively wide, open room made of expensive white marble which appeared unused for ages as it was spotless and shiny. As a matter of fact, just as it appeared, it was never used by anyone in this family - that much was true. This kitchen functioned only as a showroom when the family had guests over to lay out the appetizers and the buffet.
“So you have people who cook for you?” your lawyer concluded.
“It’s a personal cook that has gotten hired, yes.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Must be nice being rich, having people cook and clean for you every day.”
“Trust me, Mr. Jeong,” you opposed, “it’s not all that.”
You both then continued on to the second floor, and you could see him turning more and more impressed with the fact how your house was furnished. Not only the first floor was luxurious, but every other room as well. If there was something touching the ground or the walls, one could be sure that its worth came at least close to a small car, from furniture to decoration.
“Do you have to go in there?” you pressed through gritted teeth, and your lawyer rolled his eyes as you both stood in front of the closed master bedroom. “It’s a private area and there is not much inside.”
“Unless you have some secret toys lying out in the open, there is nothing to be ashamed of, we all know what’s going on in bedrooms, don’t we, Mrs. Kang?”
He grinned, unaware of the fact that there hadn’t been something going on in this bedroom for at least a year already. You also suppressed a gasp about his unhinged comment that was not very gentleman-like. But you also weren’t surprised your divorce lawyer, who always told you to play dirty, would leave dirty comments as well. You would just ignore them like the lady you got trained to represent.
“I guess you’re not sharing the bedroom anymore?” your lawyer asked as he wandered around in your private chamber after having opened the space.
“What has this got anything to do with my divorce?” you wanted to know, slightly enraged.
“A lot. If you can confirm that you haven’t shared a bed in quite a time, it’s easier to believe that your marriage has been in the shambles for so long and not a decision simply made overnight.”
“Divorce is never a decision simply made overnight, Mr. Jeong,” you clarified, but he corrected you instantly,
“I didn’t mean it that way, Mrs. Kang. You will wonder how many clients come to me directly the day after they caught their partner cheating and change their minds to return to them a few days later. I want to know how serious you are and that it’s not a decision made on an impulse.”
“I don’t love my husband anymore, Mr. Jeong. Isn’t my tone sincere enough, my expression when I talk about my failed marriage? The fact I go through these lengths at my age?” Your voice got louder and louder, but he didn’t interfere. “But if you need to know about that part of my life too, then yes, I can confirm that my husband and I haven’t shared this bed for a little over a year already as he’s sleeping in his office.”
“Relax, okay?” he comforted you as you had ended your speech. “I was only asking.”
You dropped your head, suddenly ashamed of your slight blow up. “I’m sorry. That’s not… I’m usually not like this.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s normal to feel all these emotions going through a divorce. Sometimes, you need a ventil. It won’t be the last time that you talk to me like that, so let it all out. You’ll be surprised how much it helps.”
He was right, you thought to yourself, feeling a little bit lighter around your chest. But to your disadvantage, you bathed in that moment for a second too long and missed your lawyer opening another door in your bedroom of which he had probably assumed was your walk-in-closet.
“No, don-”
You stretched out your hand and wanted to reach him, but you weren’t fast enough and could only watch the door swing open, revealing a small room next to the bedroom that was certainly too spacious to only be a closet.
Instead, what he found in the room was a crib by the window where dim light was making its way through half-closed curtains. A light shade of yellow had been chosen for the tapestry, matching the beige carpet while the remaining furniture such as the changing unit and the crib itself were white. A few pictures on the walls added a playful undertone to the room, but that was it.
“I was only allowed to choose the pictures,” you explained recently as you slowly approached him. “They are sunflowers in different shapes. You know what sunflowers stand for?” You smiled meekly. “They stand for happiness and joy. This room should have brought me happiness and joy, but instead, it gave me years of sadness.”
He didn’t ask. Perhaps, he could figure it out himself as you had neither mentioned nor brought a child to your appointments with him. If not, then he sensed it wasn’t the right time to push the topic just yet.
“Let’s go,” your lawyer eventually exclaimed and closed the door behind him. “Let’s make your living room a bit messy when I unpack my laptop and we note down the cost of every item in here. That’s gonna be fun!”
He sometimes came off as rude and uncouth, but he knew when to stop talking.
_____
“What’s that?” You unpacked the plastic bag in front of you and pulled out a black long sleeve, black pants, black sneakers and a black beanie as you unsuccessfully attempted to crack a joke, “Were black clothes on sale today?”
“Those are your clothes for tonight.”
“If you haven't noticed yet, Mr. Jeong…” You looked down on yourself. “My style is classic, elegant. Not streetstyle, not coquette, or whatever this is. I’m still representing the family I married into and cannot wear this.”
“I’m sorry, but black cashmere sweaters were not on sale today, ma’am,” your lawyer said, and as you drew a closer look at him, you noticed that he was dressed all in black already too, and not in his usual suit, but more casual, even wearing a beanie himself. “Now undress and change into the clothes that I brought.”
“What would I wear this for?” You lifted up your hands and pulled up the pants. You usually never wore pants. “Where are we going? To the club? I don’t go to clubs.”
“No, we’re going to your house.”
“And why would we need these clothes if we’re going there?”
Somehow, you sensed you wouldn’t like the answer at all. “Because we’re going to rob you.”
“I- I don’t understand. Robbing… me? My home? While I’m there?”
“No.” Your lawyer came over to you, took the beanie out of the bag and then put it on your own head. He pulled the ends down into your face, messing up your slick bun so that a few strands stuck into your forehead. “Fits you perfectly.”
“Do you mean…”
The corners of his lips tilted up. “Exactly. You’re going to rob your own house.”
“Are you nuts?!”
“Ma’am, these words out of your mouth?” He snickered. “Change into the new clothes and then we can go.”
“What should this be good for?”
“It sounds cliche, but you really can’t see people who dress in black in the dark very clearly.”
“No, I mean robbing my home. What should that be good for?”
“Ah, that.” He scratched the back of his head. “When there is nothing of value in the house, then there are no items to fight over, hence less work for us. You said you didn’t care about his possessions, right? Then he won’t have anything left in the morning. We’re only going to grab jewelry and this kind of stuff for you to keep or sell. Just out of spite.”
You gasped in shock. “That’s illegal! I’m pretty sure that’s even a crime!”
“I can guarantee you,” he confirmed, “this is a crime on paper. Remember you told me you could play dirty?”
When you had agreed on playing dirty when it was needed, you had hoped that it was only a formality, that he was exaggerating or just wanted to test your willpower. You had never expected you both standing in front of your dark home in the middle of the night, dressed up as robbers just to do exactly that: commit a robbery.
With your arms crossed to hide your shaking limbs, you looked around nervously, sending a quick prayer to the heavens. Even though you lived on the highest floor and had used several backdoors through the building so that no one would know you had even entered in the first place, you still felt the risk of getting caught any second.
“This doesn’t help me at all,” your lawyer complained while handling the entrance door with different tools that made noises and left traces a little too obvious for your liking.
“There is CCTV everywhere here and you just ruined the door’s frame,” you whispered in agony. “When my husband reports the robbery, they will check the time and date and then see us somewhere!”
“Do you think it’s my first time doing this?” he answered calmly while the door then opened smoothly with almost no sound. You furrowed your brows in question and wondered. Wasn’t the alarm supposed to go off? With a smug smile, your lawyer arose from his position and pushed the door entirely open. “Of course I had let the entire grid be turned off.”
You blinked in confusion. “How?”
“Again, you’ll wonder how far one comes in this country with just a little bribery.”
“That’s not very ethical,” you chided.
“You know what’s not ethical either?” He locked eyes with you. “Your husband taking all the money that’s legally yours from before your marriage, leaving you with no seed capital to start anew, with no prospects. Yes, it’s in the prenup, but what gives him the right to rob you like that just because it’s written on some piece of paper? Ma’am, the world is not a fair place,” he said confidently. “Sometimes, you just have to accept that. So, let’s go on a robbery.”
Your eyes narrowed, your nervosity completely wiped by now. “Let’s start with his office on the ground floor. I know he has some very expensive jewelry stored openly in there.”
Your lawyer’s grin widened. “Perfect.”
He had destroyed the door in a way that carried evidence of forced entry for the police investigation. On your way to the suggested room, you moved through the living area as well, and your lawyer had made it his mission to throw over some chairs and a small side table that had once carried some valuable crystal figurines that your mother in law liked to collect. They then all laid shattered on the floor.
“That was crystal!” you cried out. “Do you know how much it was worth? That was not necessary!”
“We’re on a robbery, not on a shopping trip at Tiffany’s,” he groaned. “Do robbers look like they care about some figurines? They come in a hurry and take everything valuable they can get in a short amount of time. They want the big stuff, gold, silver, money, jewelry… they don’t care for porcelain, vases… or whatever this was, things that are too big and break easily. Remember, we’re robbers, we have to make it look like we don’t care. Now, show me where he keeps his valuables stored.”
“There is way too much valuable stuff. How are we supposed to carry all of it?”
“We won’t.”
Your lawyer moved to the huge cabinet in the living area, stopped there for a moment, and then threw his entire body against the furniture. You let out a loud gasp, and another one as he pushed against the cabinet one more time, bringing it to a fall along with the pieces that were stored inside, instantly shattering in the process. The noise was immense and you had to cover your ears. He might not look like it in his suit, but now that he was only wearing a rather tight shirt, you noticed that your lawyer was very well built and that this was the reason why the cabinet hadn’t stood a chance from the beginning.
He let out a “Phew!” as he turned to you and wiped over his forehead. “You can take on destroying his files and papers, just everything important to him. Let me handle this physical stuff. Don't worry, I made sure the neighbors on the floor beneath weren’t there tonight.”
You understood why you had to do this. If there weren’t many valuable items you had to fight over, the higher would be the chance they would let you off with your own money and the less time and nerves it would take to finalize the divorce, yet the sentiments that tied you to this place…
… they were nonexistent.
Opening all of your husband’s cabinets, rummaging through them and pulling stuff out just to scatter them everywhere felt somewhat very satisfying. You saw all his important files and papers on the ground and stomped on them like a maniac. Everything he worked so hard for, everything he owned while trying to steal from you simultaneously like he had done all your life already. Back in the days, you had just been too young and naive to notice.
You had held back so much during all this time and had never found a way to verbalize your feelings. A lady didn’t do that. A lady was always graceful and just endured. Right now though, you didn’t feel very ladylike. And it was the best feeling in so long.
You only stopped when your lawyer stood there next to you, arms folded across his chest, and there was an edge of mocking delight in his voice when he asked, “You’re done already?”
You lowered your head as he had caught you red-handed, but you also couldn’t wipe off the faint beam that remained on your lips even when he started rummaging through your husband’s cabinets in search of the watches you had told him were stored in there.
“I wasn’t aware he has such a large collection of the most expensive watches in the world,” your lawyer commented when he lightened up a drawer with the flashlight. “If I keep one to myself, would he notice? But then again, he won’t see any of these again anyway. So maybe I should ask you?”
You let out a long sigh and grabbed the watch from him that you then threw into the bag that he had brought along with. “That’s not funny. I think you make enough money to buy yourself an expensive watch.”
“Not this brand, but well…”
You rolled your eyes and continued with the sham robbery on the lower floor before moving on to the second. It was easy to destroy your own belongings as well. You didn’t feel any sentiment as you had expected. Over time, you had grown so resentful, at this point, you just really didn’t care anymore, except for…
“Don’t. Not inside there!” You threw yourself against the door your lawyer had initiated to open. There was no way he didn’t know what kind of room this was after his last visit, so he went in there with a purpose. As you lifted your head, a flash of empathy crossed his face, but you stopped your pleading gaze from breaking eye contact with him. “Please…”
You had been wrong. There was still something your sentiments were tied to in this place, the room where your baby should have lived.
“I’m sorry,” you heard him tell you with the lowest and softest form of tone he had ever addressed you with. “But if we leave this room out, then something is off. We have to at least rummage-”
Your front teeth pressed into your lower lip as you struggled with either making way for him or fighting him. You had hoped that, regardless of how much time had already passed, your past could always remain here as long as you kept this room locked up - just as your memories.
Letting another person inside would mean you had to close this chapter. And even if your therapist back then had also advised you to change this room into another event space and move on, you had never brought your heart to agree to that. What would happen if you moved out eventually? Wasn’t this the best opportunity to finally take this step? But it came so sudden…
“Can I still keep something?” you asked timidly. “My husband never entered this room, so he wouldn't miss anything, and I know what you want to say… I understand. Just please… one thing I can keep for myself? Maybe a jumper or a toy…”
It took a long while until he shrugged and eventually said, “You know… I don’t think there are robbers this cruel who would destroy a baby room. I mean…” He opened the door, but didn’t go inside. “No one would hide valuable possessions inside here anyway. Let’s go.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, and you wondered whether your tone could even carry a tiny fragment of the relief you were feeling right now to your lawyer, expressing how grateful you were for his understanding and gentleness, even though in his world, it might not make much sense at all.
If he noticed the depth of your gratitude after all, with him risking your scam just to leave you this tiny piece of sentiment, then he didn’t bother showing you.
“Now off to my favorite part… the safe!”
“We won’t reach what’s inside there,” you warned him. “I even doubt his beloved mother knows the passcode to that.”
“Oh, we won’t get to steal what’s inside. But we will try. Ever used a crowbar to hit against something? It’s fun! Letting out a little anger. You’ll like it.”
Oh, how much you indeed came to like it.
____
“Very well.”
Your lawyer seemingly skimmed over the police report before he placed it aside on his desk, deeming it as done. Only a week after the incident, you had brought him a copy of the official papers that your husband had filed to confirm that everything was going according to plan.
After your fake robbery, you had pretended to arrive at home and called your husband in feigned shock that sounded so real over the phone, you nearly believed it yourself. Since he had been in a neighboring city only, he had arrived two hours later, and the performance you had put on in front of him and the police was nearly Oscar-worthy.
“Then, you only have to sign this.” Your lawyer had pulled out another set of documents from a staple on this desk and slid them over to you. “Exactly here, please.”
“What is this?” You read something about a bank in a whole other country that was unfamiliar to you, and a bank account under a name that was unfamiliar, too. “I cannot sign for another person.”
“I know. That’s why you will sign as this person whose name the account is booked under.”
“That’s not legal, I could go to jail for that!”
“This again?” your lawyer groaned. “This is the bank account onto which we will transfer all your money and hide it from your husband and his family. It is required for you to make sure you will keep your inheritance. It will take a few weeks, because of course we can’t just book your whole trust fund money onto another bank from one day to the other, it will take a few steps.”
“So basically money laundering,” you concluded cautiously.
“That’s the legal term, yes. I would describe it as…” He pursed his lips as though he was really thinking hard to come up with something. “Playing hide and seek. It’s suddenly gone and you don’t know exactly how long it will take, but eventually, you’ll always find it.”
You rolled your eyes, but signed the papers nonetheless.
“Very well. Now, grab your purse,” your lawyer summoned while he was taking off his glasses and arose from his chair. “We’re going to celebrate.”
“Celebrate? Celebrate what?”
“This success.” He put on his suit coat, circled his desk and picked up your purse from the chair next to you himself, thrusting it into your lap as you hadn’t made any move to reach for it yourself..
“Okay, but where?”
“Can you drink?”
“Not really.”
“Very well, then I’ll teach you.”
You reluctantly got up from your seat as you suspiciously asked, “Is this something you do with all your clients, Mr. Jeong?”
You were only able to watch his back when he opened the door and admitted, “Only with the ones I like.”
While you were still pondering whether his words had been a compliment, he had decided to take you to a shady bar, at a part of the city where you would never set foot in. It was dim and smelled strongly of smoke. The majority of the guests were male, there was a billiard table in the center, and on the menu were only beer and harder beverages.
“This is not the kind of establishment I usually frequent, Mr. Jeong,” you judged harshly while you struggled to find a comfortable position on the bar stool next to your lawyer.
“No, I don’t think you frequent any bar at all.” He had let himself plop on the stool next to you, took off his jacket and ordered two drinks you hadn’t heard of and neither ever sipped on before. “I purposely brought you here. You thought we were going to visit some kind of fancy rooftop hotel bar? Sorry to disappoint you.”
You scanned your environment with raised brows and a look that made men look back at you - but not in the open kind way. They were rather skeptical and curious. Your lawyer was still the best dressed here, everyone else was wearing casual clothes like they had just hopped by after work. They sensed you didn’t belong here, their faces spoke volumes.
“Don’t worry, these guys are harmless and actually nice. They just want a good drink and company before heading home alone, back to their dark and lonely room. It’s just… they don’t see women here that often.”
“I figured that much. What is this place even? Why are we here, Mr. Jeong?”
“It's a place to have fun! Try having fun, will you? Here.” He slid one of the two glasses the barkeeper had just dropped off on the counter closer to you. “Drink. Maybe this will help you to finally loosen up. And drop the ‘Mr. Jeong’-stuff, we’re off duty now.”
You knew there was no way you could say no, and even though you were doubtfully sniffing on the drink, trying to guess what it could be, you had to empty it under your lawyer’s watchful eyes.
“Oh my god!” You were coughing while your entire face heated up. You felt the liquid burning through your throat, making its way all the way to your stomach and settling there with a heat you had rarely encountered before. “What is this?!”
“It’s a drink to have fun! Are you having fun yet?”
“No!”
“Very well.” He downed his own beverage and then raised his hand. “Barkeeper, we need another two of these.”
You didn’t know how long it took for your perception of time to start shifting. You also didn’t know why you didn’t stop drinking, and certainly not why you didn’t say no. He wouldn’t have forced you, that much you were certain of. Maybe it was because you were truly weak. But maybe, in some kind of twisted circumstance, you were truly starting to have fun.
“Here, hold this.” You thrusted your purse and your jacket into Jaehyun’s hands. “I can’t look at this misery any longer.”
You rolled up the sleeves of your blouse and opened the first two buttons before - suddenly feeling not too hot and cramped in your own skin anymore - you strutted over to the men who had gathered around the billiard table, ready to start another set of games.
“May I join?” you asked into the round and earned many curious looks back. “Trust me guys, I’m really good at this.”
You had played billiard in your home so often, it started to bore you the better you got at this game. And with time, it had started to really dread you, because there had never been anyone to play with the many hours a day had to offer.
“Miss, I don’t think-”
“Let her.” You didn’t see him, but you felt Jaehyun’s presence right behind you. Your chest swelled with confidence and pride. “She said she can do it, so let her.”
The men threw questioning looks at each other, but it didn’t take them too long until they all agreed to let you join, and one of them handed a queue over to you. “Ladies first.”
If your confidence had rooted from the alcohol you had chugged earlier, its effect was starting to lack now, because suddenly, you didn’t feel so full of yourself anymore. You bowed down lightly and positioned yourself on one side of the table. You usually started here, playing at home, but abruptly, you got so nervous with all these men looking at you with a certain edge of judgment they were unsuccessfully trying to conceal.
If you failed the game’s opening, there would be no coming back from it, the momentum missed. You would play bad and they would all make fun of you. Maybe it would be better if you just backed down now…
“Well, well, well…”
You felt a palm on your lower back as you made attempts to arise from your position, keeping you in place as the hand gently pressed against the push upwards that you made. Jaehyun was preventing you from giving up.
He bowed down to you and whispered into your ear, “You don’t have to impress anyone. Just loosen up, let it go and have fun.”
You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. He didn’t retreat his hand when you opened them again and angled the queue. He didn’t retreat his hand when you pulled back and pushed into the billiard balls. He only retreated his hand when you turned around to him, throwing your arms around his neck to celebrate that you had immediately put three balls into the holes.
You didn’t know when your hair had loosened and now fell in soft waves around your shoulders. You didn’t know when you had opened a third and fourth button on your blouse, revealing a bit of your undershirt. You also had lost count of the amount of drinks you had already downed the further the night processed.
But what you knew was that you had incredible fun.
“Did you see that, Jaehyun?” You were jumping up and down in front of him after winning another game against one of the bar visitors. “I won again!”
“Yes.” He smiled softly, like you had never seen before. “Well done.”
You tilted your head, your lipstick long gone, your cheeks heated. “It suits you so well, Jaehyun.”
“What?”
“That smile.” You beamed back. “Maybe you should wear this expression more often than that scorny grin. I like this one better.”
You couldn’t clearly see in the dim lightning, but you could swear you caught his ears turn red, and it was incredibly cute.
“Alright, brandy blossom,” Jaehyun then called out after you had won another game. “Time to go home before your hubby returns.”
“Already?” you pursed your lips and put down the queue.
“You don’t want to be caught reeking of alcohol, all disheveled, right?”
You gasped and stemmed your hands against your hips. “Of course not! Just… another round, please? I need to properly say goodbye to my new friends.”
He gave in, knowing he didn’t stand a chance against the sad face you and the men you had been playing with pulled all at once.
Seemingly annoyed, Jaehyun sighed. “But just one.”
____
“Jaehyun, everything is spinning.” You leaned against him while he put an arm around you and kept you on your feet as you entered the elevator. “And I feel sick.”
“That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you play another round and have a last farewell drink with the other guests.” He pressed the button and watched the door close in front of you both.
“But I had so much fun,” you said as you looked for support by stemming yourself against the elevator wall. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. I would do it all over again. Can we do this again sometime, please… Jaehyun?”
You didn’t know if Jaehyun ever replied to that as you closed your eyes and drifted away. You were moving, that much you knew, or was it all in your memory as well? You didn’t use your own body, but felt like you were being carried, not having to put your feet down. You were floating and a slight breeze pulling on the ends of your hair strands suggested that somewhere, a window must have opened, and then you fell…
… but on a soft cloud.
Your eyes reluctantly opened and you saw Jaehyun bending over you, worry sketched all over his face.
“Thank god!” he exclaimed in relief. “I thought you were passed out.”
“I feel so sweaty and smelly, Jaehyun,” you complained to him, starting to unbutton your blouse’s remaining buttons. “I have to change.”
“I’ll bring you the bathrobe.” But he wasn’t able to leave your side as your hand reached out to him and locked him down with a tight grip around his wrist.
“Please don’t go,” you whined, very much under the influence. “I don’t wanna be alone.”
“I won’t”, he spoke with a voice so gently, even in this state you wondered if it was the same person you spoke to about your divorce. You felt a palm touching your temple, swiping away a few hair strands. “I’ll just bring you a fresh bathrobe.”
Still, you refused and shook your head. “Please stay.”
It didn’t take him a second to answer, “Fine, I’ll stay.”
You drew a deep breather, staring at the half-darkened ceiling that was semi blurry in your drunken state. Only a small light was on, somewhere in the corner. Perhaps, it was the alcohol speaking the following words, but suddenly, you got so sad and hid your face by placing your forearm on your head.
“Actually, you know… I’m so scared of getting divorced.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m scared that I’ll be alone all my life, after all.”
This time, Jaehyun’s answer took him much longer as if he was carefully thinking about each word. “You’re the most fascinating woman I’ve ever encountered. You won’t be having any struggles attracting men who are handsome and treat you well, I’m sure about that. Just this time, choose widely.”
“I don’t think I want to get married so fast again,” you confessed. “I think next time, I will take it slow. I want to get a degree and open my business first. Then, I want to get married again.”
“That sounds very reasonable. You hadn’t had a chance to enjoy your youth much.”
“But I don’t want one night stands, flings, short-lived encounters…” You dared to peek from under your arm and eventually withdrew it from your face to look at Jaehyun properly. “What if I meet my true love during that time? Will he wait until I’m ready?”
He spoke with confident sincerity that was reflected in his expression as he assured you, “If he truly loves you, then he will wait.”
“But… I want to experience the love I am able to give. What if there is really only one love we get to have in a lifetime, and he has been this love for me? What if I’ve used up all of my love for this life already?”
“That’s nonsense,” Jaehyun instantly dismissed. “Love is endless, you cannot use it up. Especially you. You have so much love to give, you cannot be the only person out there. You will meet someone whose love is as endless as yours, I promise.”
“How much love have you got left, Jaehyun? Is it still endless too?”
Only at this moment, you realized that you hadn’t let go of his wrist all along. Only at this moment, when he twisted your both’s fingers in a way that intertwined them. Your chest welled up, you hadn’t felt this cared for in what felt like an eternity.
“Yes,” he whispered. “It’s still endless too.”
“Then I’m glad,” you replied with a smile before drifting off to sleep.
____
You didn’t know when you last had fallen asleep with your husband on the same bed, let alone holding hands with him and having his arms wrapped around you from the back. Waking up groggily on your soft bedding, you first saw your intertwined hands resting on your hip, your husband breathing delicately with his face buried in your nape.
It was odd. You didn’t feel put off or disgusted even as normally whenever he even tried to have some kind of body contact with you. No, you felt content, comfortable and warm. So, so warm.
Except for… as your eyes scanned the room, it dawned on you that this was not your house’s wall and neither was that your window you were looking at. This wasn’t your bed either, and behind you was certainly not your husband laying.
“No, no, no!” Your breath caught and you sat up straight on the mattress, waking up your lawyer with your hectic movements. “No, this can’t be!”
“What’s going on?” He instantly arose into a seating position although his eyes were barely opened yet. “You’re leaving already? It’s only… 6am.”
“Yes!” you screeched and escaped the entangled sheets, starting to adjust your pulled up skirt and open blouse. Your cheeks heated up and you turned around, away from your lawyer’s peripheral so as to not reveal more of your body to him than you already had. “I was supposed to be home by last night! Why am I here? Is this a hotel?”
“You were so drunk, you could barely walk and always drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t just bring you home. I just wanted to make sure…” He paused and then shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Oh my god, what do I tell my husband?” You ran your fingers through your disheveled hair and tried to clean your clothes. You could barely remember the last night. “Where is my phone?”
“Here.” Your lawyer held up the device in front of you. “Zero messages and zero missed calls. Can you calm down now, please? I’ll drive you.”
You took your phone into your hand and looked at it in utter confusion. “That’s strange. Usually, he would call me when I’m not home or at least send me a message. Let’s just hope he didn’t bother checking up in the first place, that would be the best case.” A very unwell feeling suddenly crept up your body, laying itself on your chest and slowly cutting off your air. “Something is off. I need to go home. Really, I need to go home right now.”
Rather cold hands suddenly placed themselves on your left and right cheek, cupping your face. Your lawyer looked straight at you with penetrating eyes. “Please, I need you to calm down first. Now.”
You tried shaking your head, but his grip was too strong. “I can’t-”
“Yes, you can.” There was no talking back. He wouldn’t let you go otherwise. “Calm down, then get dressed and I’ll take you home. Spiraling right now is not helpful. Try collecting your thoughts and then act according to it.”
So you tried as he told you and closed your eyes. You took a few deep breathers, but even though you could set your body at peace just a little bit, your heart still refused to do so. And you got a feeling it was not because of what was awaiting you at home, but rather because your lawyer stood so close to you. It was his presence that caused you to be all irritated at this moment.
A few memory threads flowed into each other again, and pieces of last night seeped back into your mind… Your hands around his neck, his soft smile, his gentle words, his arms carrying you to the hotel room, his fingers intertwined with yours, his chest pressed against your back in your sleep…
You looked at him, utterly petrified. Had you just cheated on your husband?
“You’re coming?” he asked.
You followed him out of the hotel room and into the elevator. You didn’t say a single word and he didn’t pick up a topic to talk about either, so you just remained silent and avoided eye contact at all cost. You wondered if he felt the same way about your unexpected intimacy from the night before: guilty and ashamed - against yourself.
That was what you would describe it, but it was not what entirely described the bigger picture. Because why else would you have wished not to be still married right now just to have laid in bed with your lawyer for a bit longer?
“Checkout, please,” you heard him say as you stood next to him, totally lost.
Your husband was an attractive man, but your lawyer… You watched his back bend, messy strands falling into his forehead, a crinkled shirt tightening around his chest. A small part of you that had supposedly taken control over you last night, yearned for him in a way you had never yearned for a man before, not even your own husband.
You suddenly broke out in cold sweat and had to look away, fingers gripping tightly onto the jacket in your hand. You were still a married woman, you were not supposed to feel this way about another man yet, even though you didn’t love your husband anymore. You still belonged to him on paper…
“Let’s go.” Your lawyer looked at you, frowning. “Are you okay? You look feverish.”
He wanted to touch your forehead, but you quickly turned your head away. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t believe you, but let it rest. “Fine.”
You trotted after him, feeling torn about what was morally right and the desires that had started to involuntarily get into your head.
____
Something was off at home, because nobody was there.
You and your husband didn’t speak often except for the necessities. Most of the time, he would sleep at his office in the house, coming back late in the night and leaving early in the morning. Sometimes, when it was very late, he didn’t bother to check up on you at all, assuming you were asleep already. For last night, you had just hoped that it was this exact case.
And just as you were standing there in the lobby, kind of lost and still groggy with a slight hangover starting to announce itself, you got a phone call.
“Hey,” you greeted.
“Hey,” your husband greeted back. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it home last night, and I won’t be able to come back today either. There is too much going on in the company.”
You didn’t bother to care anymore, you hadn’t in a long time. You were just relieved that last night didn’t have any consequences. “I understand.”
“Is mother already gone?”
“M… mother?”
Your blood froze and your vision shifted to a silhouette that was just revealing itself in the corner and slowly stepping into the weak daylight. You had judged too early, weighed yourself in safety too fast as there it was, your consequences.
“Yes,” your husband responded. “Don’t you think it was nice of her to spend the night, because she was worried you would be alone after the robbery? Anyway, I have to hang up and get back to work. Bye.”
Your arm slowly slipped down, fingers barely still holding onto the phone as you looked at your mother-in-law like you were facing a ghost.
“By the looks of it, it seems like someone’s had a rough night.”
You did your best to keep your voice low and conceal the trembling tone that came along with your answer, “I was at a friend’s house last night.”
Your mother-in-law snickered and approached you, her face not changing a bit - the result of year long surgeries. She was smaller than you and certainly older, but something so wicked and deeply evil had always been surrounding this woman that even her own sons wouldn’t dare to look into her eyes without permission.
Secretly, she was the one running and pulling the strings behind the company, the entire conglomerate even, stemming from one of the country’s richest families for centuries. At least that was what she liked to tell, but your research didn’t reveal such connections. That didn’t make her appearance less intimidating though as even her own husband looked small next to her.
“Don’t fool me, darling. You don’t have any friends.”
Two years ago, you would have apologized deeply and fallen to your knees, begging for forgiveness, even if it meant kneeling for days. But you weren’t the intimidated girl from shortly after your marriage anymore. Losing your child had shaped you deeply and the divorce was the final stage, not the process - even though you still had weak moments. You decided this wouldn’t be one of them.
“You don’t know anything about me or my life.”
Somehow, you felt mentally so strong right now and straightened your shoulders to present self-confidence, aware of the fact that even though your way through this divorce was not the prettiest and most legal, it was the most effective. And truth to be told, they didn’t deserve a clean divorce anyway.
“I see it written all over your face,” she snarled. “You’ve been with another man.”
This woman didn’t deserve a glimpse of your new, true self at all.
This woman who had told her son, “If you had just waited half a year more, you wouldn’t have had to marry her and we wouldn’t have this burden in our family now.”
And the son who had just answered, “I’m sorry to be such a disgrace, mother.”
And you, the timid girl, you had just sat with them and swallowed every tear, because nobody in this family was supposed to cry - not even after losing your own child.
You wondered if that had been the moment you started slowly losing the love for your husband who you had deeply loved from the first the moment he struck up a conversation with you at the university where he had been invited to as a guest speaker. Three months in, you got pregnant and another three months later, were married.
You had never graduated with your degree, but you hadn’t cared, because you had loved him deeply. For you, it had always been enough - but never for his family. It struck you the moment you had lost your baby and fell from grace.
For two more years, you had wondered whether you could restore the fading love or find another way to feel so deeply again. You had been stuck in a limbo where you questioned if it was some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome you had developed or whether you were just too weak of a person to break free, too afraid to never find love again.
When one night two months ago, you had found your husband all immersed in work and family problems on the death anniversary of your child which he clearly had forgotten about, you had finally figured that he was a simple man who would always be under the control of his mother. There was no need to fight for what had long been lost. You were much stronger alone.
“You are only still here, because a divorce is a disgrace, never forget that and be grateful you have everything you need. Other women would happily trace places with you.”
“Then let them!” It was the first time you heard yourself raising your voice against her. “Let them replace me! You know we don’t love each other anymore, why don’t you let me go then?”
“Oh, darling.” Your mother-in-law stretched out her hand and touched your cheek. It felt ice cold, but you couldn’t move as your body turned to stone. “I would have, but you’re just so easy to keep here, why bother in the first place? I can keep you low and our reputation stored, it’s much better than dealing with a hassle.”
No, you weren’t easy to keep anymore anymore, you were just very good at hiding all of it and keeping up your facade. Maybe before, you would have caved and given in. Maybe before this all, you would have crouched in front of her. Maybe, before you hired your lawyer, you wouldn’t have had these thoughts at all. But only the imagination of him gave you everything you needed to fight back years of suppression.
“I’m not scared of you.”
The slap came unexpectedly, leaving a visible mark on the side of your face. You gasped for air as you held onto the burning skin, your senses not coming together just yet over what had just happened. It felt like the spot got handled with many needles trying to push through a thin layer.
“The next time you’re robbing your own house, make sure to not leave footprints all over the scattered papers, the police might be onto something. I don’t know who’s helping you, if that person is a criminal or your affair, but if you really have some kind of shady thing going on behind my back, I will take you down and your entire family with you.” A threat so sharp that cut through the air like a knife. “Nobody knows about this, so I will do you a favor and keep it between us. If you continue with whatever you’re planning, I promise you, you will regret it deeply.”
Your family… you didn’t know when you had last seen them. You missed them dearly and there was no way you could put them in danger.
That was the only thing you could think of before you snapped back to reality as the entrance door closed behind you.
____
“Who did this to you?”
Your lawyer was kneeling in front of you, inspecting your bruised face with hands so gentle and a gaze so soft, it reminded you all of last night. You were sitting on the couch in his office, legs pulled up to your chest, staring at him but at the same time through him.
“Who?” he asked again as you didn’t respond, this time more insistently. He jumped back to his feet. “Who did this to you? Your husband?! I’m gonna k-”
Reluctantly, you shook your head. “No, it was my mother-in-law. She knows.”
“She knows about what? Whatever she knows, it doesn’t give her the right to physically abuse you!” You had never seen him this agitated and furious before as he walked around his office in a haste, apparently in search of something.
“She knows that I’m onto something… with someone,” you admitted, fearing that he might get angry as you had not been careful enough. “She mentioned my shoe’s footprints over the scattered papers on the ground… I walked all over them, remember?”
“So what?” your lawyer dismissed in an instant. “This doesn’t mean anything. If this divorce makes it to the court, no judge will pay attention to this detail. You live in the house, naturally your footprints will be somewhere.”
You lowered your head, but sensed him walking back to you and pressing something against your cheek, providing instant relief to your burning skin. It was an empty, cold glass. “Sorry, I don’t have anything else here. I hope it helps.”
“Thank you.”
“What else did she say?” he inquired. “Whatever she said, I promise you, in this divorce, I will wring her out until she’s dry and has nothing left anymore. Then, I will push even further, that much I can do.”
“She’s right with everything she’s said to me,” you whispered absent-mindedly, rotating the glass on your skin so that the spot would always meet a cold surface. “I’m so easy to keep, that’s why I’m still there.” It was a paradox to you how a much older and tinier woman had brought up enough strength to hurt you this deeply, inwardly and outwardly. “But what was I supposed to do all this time? I’m from a reputable family and have willingly signed this contract, giving away my rights, my freedom. It was very convenient for them… I was only a convenience that had come along at the right time as their son wasn’t married yet. And then, I couldn’t even bear my child, and it turned me into a disgrace in an instant.”
“Stop!” your lawyer called out, bracing his arms against his desk that then creaked under his weight. His eyes were forcibly closed and there was a huge frown forming on his face. “Don’t ever talk about yourself like this again!”
“But it’s the truth!” you protested. “She may not be in the right, but she is right about me! I willingly agreed to cut off contact with my family, friends, everyone. And then it takes me two years to do something against it! Let’s face the truth…”
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded lowly, his knuckles turning white as he added more pressure to his grip against the desk’s edge. “It’s not like you. You were always so full of hope, in a fighting mode.”
“I still am!” you disagreed. “I still am full of hope and fighting, but let’s face the truth... I’m so young and I will have been through a divorce in the near future. I’ve lost a child, I don’t have a degree, no money for now, no prospects. Who would even want me anymore?”
You didn’t except an answer, it was only a rhetorical question, but he still gave you one,
“Me. I would.”
You heaved up your head, expecting to encounter a grin as your lawyer had just joked around to lift up your spirits in a meek attempt, but as you met his gaze, your breath caught. He was not kidding. He was dead serious, and by now you could quite well distinguish between his serious and joking demeanor.
“Jaehyun…”
His brows drew together, and he eventually broke out in a relieved smile, just a little bit. “Finally, you call me by my first name, even now.”
“Mr. Je- Jaeh-” You shook your head in confusion. You suddenly didn’t know what to think, say or even feel anymore. “Please don’t joke around, now is not the time.”
“I’m offended that you think I’m joking after all this time. I don’t make jokes about that.”
You dropped the glass on the cushion and jumped out of your seat, moving to the other end of the office room, far away from him. You couldn’t bear being so close to him with all that nonsense that he was speaking, because you feared that a big part of you wished for it to become true.
“You know that I am looking for my one true love.”
“Who said it can’t be me?”
“I’m still married to Kang Seungmin.”
“Then I will have to hurry up with the divorce papers.”
“I want to get a degree and open my business before marrying again.”
“I’m willing to support that and wait.”
“You’re so full of life and I’m so broken.”
“Then I’ll bring you back to life too.”
Why did everything he say sound so illogical, yet so tempting? If life was only that easy as he always made it seem with his shady business, maybe there was still hope for you, too. You longed for the lighthearted young woman you had been in the past, and something inside you, maybe the remnants of her, believed that with him, she could find her way back to the surface.
“You don’t understand the depths of my trauma, you cannot love me, Mr. Jeong.” You turned back to the couch and picked up your purse. Walking towards the door, you told him, “I wish we would have met before all of this happened. I wish you would have met me when I was still in university. You would have liked me more back then and my life would have turned out differently.”
“Your life can still turn out differently, because it doesn’t matter when we would have met. I would have liked you all the same.”
You wanted to walk out, but your fingers remained on the door handle, refusing to move. Your cheeks were burning, but on both sides and for an entirely different reason now than shortly before. You were crying hot tears that were streaming down your face. “You don’t know what you’re saying…”
Suddenly, you felt his hot breath against your neck and flinched. But he didn’t touch you, no matter how desperately you wanted it, and you continued to fight against this desire.
“We can also fall in love now, forget about the past and start again.”
“This is what you cannot understand,” you spoke earnestly. “I can never forget about the past, Mr. Jeong. And I refuse to do so, because it’s a part of me and will become a part of my partner too. My current husband has failed to allow this to happen to him.”
Then, your fingers were finally moving and you slipped out of his office. You used the stairs this time, running all the way to the ground floor. Only outside of the building, you were ready to come to a standstill and start breathing regularly again. You were sweating unlike ever before, hot and cold waves washing through your body.
But you continued your way by walking, walking all the way home, whether directly or in circles, you didn’t know. You just kept walking until it was nighttime, until you returned to your house where emptiness was awaiting you.
And as you stood there, alone in the darkness, you wondered how long it would take for it to consume you entirely.
You refused to let it get this far. Not again.
____
A few days later, you were standing in front of a grave that you generally avoided visiting except for only one time a year. The pain was too much to bear alone as nobody had ever bothered to accompany you.
This year, you were here for the second time - but this time you had company.
“I’m sorry if the things I’ve said back then were too insensitive,” Jaehyun apologized. “Just because I’m older doesn’t mean I’m more experienced. Of course I don’t know anything about your pain.”
“That’s why I brought you here,” you told him, your look unwavering from the small tombstone. “I want to share it with you. If you still want to love me after this, then I will believe you.”
…
When you found out that you were pregnant, you weren’t shocked like so many girls your age, who had just entered university, would generally feel.
You were head over heels in love with your boyfriend who, despite your huge age gap and his position in the company, had made it his priority to shower you with gifts and love. That this was considered ‘love bombing’ and ‘grooming’, you would only figure out later. Up until this day, you were still convinced your love for him was real. It just wasn’t your fault that you were an easy target. It was his fault that he had even approached you in the first place as a grown man ten years older than you.
It only took one time for the two stripes on the test to appear. His happiness wasn’t feigned, and neither was yours. Of course you would drop out of university and get married. Marrying into this family would mean to never have to work anymore anyway and only caring for your child and husband. The fact that this was all convenient for a man who couldn’t keep a woman his age and was under so much pressure from his family, you would only figure out later.
It was a shotgun wedding, but of course that wasn’t what was written all over the news. To his family’s luck, you weren’t showing yet and from a reputable background, but you had to hurry up with the wedding nonetheless. You were anticipating this child so much, even though your family tried to sabotage your wedding. That was probably why you were so easy to get talked into cutting off all contact with the people related to you. They didn’t understand you. The fact that they only tried to warn and save you, you would only figure out much later.
You signed away your inheritance, because what was yours was his, and thus for your child and every future child as well, it sounded all logical. You felt loved and cared for unlike ever before. Why be with your unsupportive family when every love and warmth you could find with your husband’s family? Other people looked for love all their lifetime and were unsuccessful. You were lucky to have found the love of your life at an early age.
The fact that the people who told you you were too young to marry were not jealous, but only caring, you would only figure out much later…
… when you were lying in your bed with cramps so bad, you thought you were going to die. Except that it was the child inside of you, who was almost due to be born, was the one dying.
There hadn’t been any signs. He had been healthy. Yet, somehow, his heart had stopped beating.
They took your baby out with a c-section, you had only held him in your arms once. Nobody had shown up to share this incredibly painful moment with you.
This moment that had dragged you into a darkness which would take you years to break free from.
…
“Suddenly,” you continued, speaking to Jaehyun, “I wasn’t the beloved daughter-in-law anymore. I was a disgrace. If I cannot keep a baby, why bother about me? My body cannot function properly, it refuses to act according to nature. Nobody looked at me the same way anymore, not even my husband. While my mother-in-law confronted me with disgust and anger whenever we met, it was disappointment that was mirrored in my husband’s eyes. He wanted to try again, his mother wanted him to. They didn’t give me a moment to mourn my stillborn child.”
“Did he…?” Jaehyun started, unable to speak out the words, but you shook your head.
“She insulted him many times, but he never did anything against my will. We did genuinely try though, I didn’t want to give up on my marriage, but I think my body already had. Sometimes, I caught him lying to his mother that we were trying when we had long stopped. This, I’m grateful for. But it made her hate me even more, because I’m in the wrong as I cannot conceive according to her.”
“This is horrible…”
You stood there, side by side, looking at your baby’s grave. “Sometimes I think he knew what kind of life was awaiting him and chose to not join me. I would have been a horrible mother under these circumstances.”
“He?”
“My baby was a boy.”
“No.” Jaehyun shook his head and suddenly reached for your hand. He was holding it for a long time, before he eventually said, “You would have been the best mom, no matter the circumstances.”
“So why is my baby not with me now?” you sobbed. “Why did it leave me?”
This was a question you were asking yourself over and over again, ever since it had happened. Your therapist had advised you to let go of these thoughts and the guilt, finally breaking free from that darkness by moving on. But you just couldn’t and had stopped going to the sessions from then on. She hadn’t understood the depths of your pain either - or so you had thought.
“Maybe,” Jaehyun started and removed his hand from yours to put it on your shoulder and shift you around to him instead. “Your baby didn’t leave you. Maybe your baby just sensed it wasn’t the right time and is waiting to come back to you when you’re ready again. Then, you’ll see each other again.”
You cried even harder at this point, only slowly realizing that Jaehyun had his arms wrapped around you now, embracing you tightly. Somehow, you had missed someone like this throughout all the years of pain, someone who listened, who was willing to share your suffering, who made it all more durable. Someone who was finally seeing you and acknowledging the depths of your pain.
Had your lawyer been this person all along and it was meant for you to only find him now when you were ready for it?
“I like that thought,” you brought out under tears. “That I will see my baby again.”
“And your baby will also see your family and friends. I will make sure of that.”
“Jaehyun…” He pressed your face against his chest and rested his chin on the top of your head, tenderly brushing over your hair.
“I still want to love you. With all your pain, all your scars. I still want to love you.”
This time, you believed him.
Even more so when you came back to the grave a few days later. You didn’t want to run away anymore. If you freed your pain and didn’t lock it away in an abandoned room, it would grow easier to be a part of your life. That was why you wanted to confront your darkness and pay visits to your baby’s grave more frequently.
… Only to find out that someone had been here shortly before you, leaving a bouquet of fresh lilies.
Jaehyun really wanted to love all of you, past and present.
____
“These are the finished documents.”
Your divorce file was thick. You were sitting at Jaehyun’s desk and were only skimming over the first few pages. Every single paragraph was dissected and laid out very carefully, in every little detail so that no word could be misunderstood.
You didn’t know why you had failed to pay attention to this before, but Jaehyun was incredibly intelligent and determined. He must have worked almost restlessly on these papers and had really meant it when he had said to hurry up with.
“What’s going to happen now?” you asked, hesitant to hear the answer.
“I will send this file to your husband and he will probably consult his own lawyer. Which is legally his right, even if he agrees on everything. Depending on how much he or his family wants to change, it will take months to… years negotiating, going back and forth.”
Years…
You had told Jaehyun to wait until you were a divorced woman. That much respect you still had for your husband, even though you had already taken off your wedding band. And truth to be told, you were still unsure about Jaehyun. It wasn’t a decision you could make overnight at such a state, you had only loved one man in your life so far. Your next choice had to be the right choice, and how could you have already figured out if he was the right choice?
You didn’t want to get married on and off, it wasn’t supposed to be that easy, so you had to be as sure as possible. But then again, you had been fooled once by the love of a man close to your possible future lover’s age. How was it possible you weren’t going to be alluded into a marriage by false promises and hopes again? You might be a bit older and wiser than back then, but did it also apply to your heart?
“This is the toughest part,” Jaehyun continued explaining. "Negotiating. But I will always be by your side, remember that, I will accompany you on every step.”
You wondered whether negotiating with your husband or resisting your lawyer would be harder for you to do in the future.
“Then I will probably need a place to stay during the entire process. I should move to a hotel first and then go from there.”
“There is no need,” Jaehyun dismissed and got up from his chair. “I have a place for you to stay.”
You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s go.”
You took his car and he drove to a part of the city, far outside of the bustling center, which you hadn’t stepped foot in in years, even though it was close to your current neighborhood. This was where you had grown up, this was where you had spent the majority of your life. This was the area where your parents lived.
The car came to a stop right outside of your family’s house.
“Here we are.”
You turned your head away from the window, the sight of your childhood home causing tears to well up behind your eyes. “I’m not supposed to come here, Jaehyun.”
“Says who?”
“The contract.”
“The contract is bullshit,” he blatantly called out. “Who would have even controlled whether you came here? No one. You could have come here all the time without anyone noticing, you know that. You just… didn’t want to or couldn’t bring yourself to. Am I right?”
He had called you out, and you couldn’t close your ears from the truth much longer. He was right. No one had ever controlled you. Perhaps, they hadn’t had to as by your mother-in-law, you had always been too weak to go against the rules. When you had grown out of this phase though, it was long too late to make amends.
“In the beginning, my family and friends all tried to reach out to me. But whenever we talked, I only heard ‘You’re too young to marry, don’t do it!’, ‘Come home, you don’t need to stay there’, and much more. I dismissed their words, I thought they weren’t happy for me and didn’t understand me. So I eventually cut off any form of communication which was aided by my mother-in-law taking away my phone after catching me calling my mother once. They never knew I was pregnant, I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. I had a new family who would take care of me, I didn’t need them anymore. Until I was all alone at childbirth and knew I had made the wrong decision.”
“The more you tell me about your in-laws, the bigger my desire grows to unalive them with my bare hands.”
You nervously kneaded your fingers, your gaze fixed on the movements. “It was their form of manipulation, isolating me from everything and everyone that could change my mind and open my eyes to the truth. Eventually, my trauma had done the job. It also made me realize that I am the one to blame too. I could always reach out in other ways, but never did. With time, my guilt grew to such an extent that every form of reconnection would spiral me into much deeper guilt. So I gave up like they have given up on me. It was easier to think this way as I could never forgive myself for the things I’ve said and done.”
“But they’ve never given up on you.”
You shrugged. “You wouldn’t know.”
“Except that I do. Why else would we be here?”
Your head snapped up and you looked at Jaehyun, then outside of the window in the direction of your house where at the same moment, the entrance door opened, that much you could see over the high metal fence surrounding the garden.
“What…” You were lost for words.
“Like you will never stop loving your child, your parents will never stop loving you too, no matter how many irrational decisions you make, no matter how many cruel things you say to them. You will always have their love,” Jaehyun explained slowly so that you could process at the same time. “A few days ago, I looked for them, drove here and explained the situation. But I left out a few important parts as it is entirely your story to tell them. I think you will have a lot to talk about in the upcoming days. Look, they’re waiting for you already.”
It was at this moment that you realized that you had never experienced love in its purest form.
Until now.
And you weren’t referring to your parents as that was another form of love, family love. You weren’t referring to your friends either as that was platonic love. You certainly weren't referring to your husband either as that had turned out to only be conventional love.
You were referring to Jaehyun going through lengths to reconnect you with your family along with many other things. You suddenly weren’t alone anymore. Life suddenly looked so bright and full of hope when you had someone to also share the happy moments with.
You weren’t alluded by false hopes and promises. He was a man of words and actions unlike anyone you had ever met before. And if this wasn’t true love, then what was? There was no guarantee, no glimpse into the future. There was only your heart following a path he shaped for you in the purest form possible, hoping that one day, you would return his feelings.
“Jaehyun, I-”
“Wait.” He cupped your face and smiled when you were facing each other. “It can wait. Go to your parents first. Take your time. Then, you can come to me and tell me everything you want to tell me, alright?”
“Thank you.” And these two words couldn’t even express the entirety of gratitude you felt towards him, among so many other things.
He gave you a kiss on your forehead, then watched you open the door, walking towards your parents.
____
Jaehyun wasn’t having a good day.
In fact, he hadn’t had a good week altogether.
He was grumpy with his employees, sloppy with his files and overall not at the peak of his law-game. His assistant had to point out mistakes in the papers more than several times and was already overly annoyed before he said goodbye for the week, leaving Jaehyun alone in his office.
He missed you incredibly, and it was messing with his usually organized and cool head. Suddenly he caught himself by what he had been trying to avoid all along: emotions caused by love.
Jaehyun had known what it was the moment you went to the bar together, hair flying carefreely around your heated cheeks. Back then, he had only wished to keep the smile on your face forever, it suited you so much better than the stern and calculated look. Having you wrapped in his arms, he had been awake for the majority of the night that followed, thinking about how he could protect you from a world this cruel, a world that had treated you so unfairly all your life, causing you all this pain that nobody should ever endure.
Jaehyun had never been afraid to love, but afraid to admit that he was secretly looking for a lifelong love too, just like everyone else. After all, he was proven every day by wives consulting him that true love was just a misconception and people were mere life partners that eventually parted ways to look for someone new. His job was to break love, not to create it. And now he was finding himself in exactly that state…
… head over heels in love with a woman he never wanted to let go again. A woman whose absence drove him crazy, because every minute he was parted from her felt like a lifetime. Jaehyun certainly had been in love in the past, but he had never gone through these extents for someone outside of his profession.
It made him question his choice of occupation nowadays. And ironically enough, this train of thoughts led him to your husband of whose lawyer he hadn’t heard anything at all. The divorce papers had certainly been delivered to him, but no one had reached out to him in return yet. He made it his mission to take care of this tomorrow.
From the corner of his eyes, Jaehyun saw his office door open and a person walking in, pulling him out of his thoughts. He was currently storing away some files and ready to head home as well.
“We’re closed already, come back tomorrow and make an appointment with my secretary.”
“But I need an appointment right now, Mr. Jeong.”
Jaehyun’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest in happiness when he heard your voice and shifted around. But the woman in front of him didn’t have much in common with the woman who had intruded his office back then.
Instead of pant suits, pencil skirts and high heels, you were wearing a long flowy skirt, a matching blouse and flats. Your hair was falling loosely over your shoulders like the night in the bar, and Jaehyun was sure he had never seen you this beautiful and full of life before. And if it was possible, he loved you even more now.
He dropped the files on the desk and straightened his shoulders. “How was the time with your parents?” he asked, reluctant as to what to do next. He didn’t want to push you, even though there were a million other thoughts in his mind right now and none of them had anything to do with small talk.
“We talked a lot. We cried a lot together, too,” you summarized for him, and he noticed that even your way of speaking had changed. You sounded more confident, but instead of it stemming from your insecurities, it rooted from deep and dripped with sincerity. “It was good, taking a few days off to think about everything.”
“And to what conclusion did you come to?” Jaehyun didn’t know why this question made him so nervous.
A faint smile tugged on the corners of your lips. ”I came to the conclusion that time is too precious to be wasted, Jaehyun. I’ve lost so much time with my parents just because I was weak, and I won’t get it back, nor can I turn it back. I can only do the best with our remaining time from now on. But there is no way I will make this mistake of losing my time with someone I love again.”
Jaehyun took a deep breather, trying to keep his composure. “You wanted to wait until your divorce, until you were sure.”
“I know.” You paused. “But when I thought about what I would regret more… I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you moving on, maybe with another woman. And it might be not in your book now, but how do we know what the future brings? I would only regret letting you go without even trying. I was never given a choice, but this, this is my choice. You gave me a choice. And I decided for this, I want this, Jaehyun.”
He cleared his throat and reached for his tie, loosening it a bit as he thought it currently cut off his breathing. “Do you know what you’re saying?” He took a stop towards you. “Be careful.”
You snickered - a tone that sounded like music in his ears - and took a step towards him as well.
“Mr. Jeong, I’m willing to play dirty in private as well. Where do I sign?”
____
Jaehyun wiped his desk free with one hand. Documents, pens, his notebook and even a lamp dropped to the floor, but luckily did not shatter. You let out a gasp, first because you got startled by his impulsive action, and then because he had picked you up and sat you on the desk.
You almost physically felt the electrifying tension between your faces that had built up over the past few weeks, and as your lips came crashing down on each other, it was like sparks flew into every direction to finally celebrate the release of all this pent-up desire.
Jaehyun’s lips were warm and soft, and very demanding. His hands were holding onto your face, angling you up to him as though he wanted you whole, taste, scent and all. Never in your life had you been kissed with so much passion and longing, being claimed in a way a woman could dream of.
You had been intimate only with your husband before, and where lovemaking with him was quiet, lukewarm and quite trite, the onset of the very same act with Jaehyun pushed up too high of what was ever possible in your sole imagination.
You were wild, fiery and loud. Oh, you could have never imagined to be that loud during the act. You threw your head back as Jaehyun kissed your neck, leaving wet trails where his lips passed. Letting out a moan, you spread your legs wider and pulled him close between your thighs. You chuckled silently when you felt him having grown so much already.
Goosebumps covered your legs as you felt him reaching under your skirt and pulling up the fabric. Jaehyun’s hands were roaming over your thighs, moving back and forth across your skin, and you simultaneously grew very hot in places you had long forgotten about. He tugged on the waistband of your panties, his fingers sliding between your folds and slowly rubbing there, causing you to catch your breath because of the intensity of the sensations.
Everything was going too slow for you now, and you wanted all of him all over you, inside of you. An inner voice was screaming desperately after him.
Suddenly, you halted.
“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked, worried.
“I… I don’t know how this works anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“... this. Is it silly?”
You drew your brows together, expecting to be laughed at, but Jaehyun just smiled mildly and tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear. How could you have ever thought he’d make fun of you? He never had.
“Nothing is silly. You were just so into it, what’s gotten into your mind?”
“I don’t know if I’m going to be… good. And I have… scars.”
You threw a meaningful gaze at him, hopeful he’d understand without many more explanations, and he did. You wouldn’t be his chosen woman if you weren’t still putting so many thoughts into one single action.
“You still have problems to loosen up,” he concluded. “But don’t worry. If you trust me completely, it will all be fine and I will help you get your head free. So… do you trust me fully?”
It only took you a near-whispered “yes” before he swept you off the desk and carried you, with your thighs tightly wrapped around his waist, to his couch. Not even a minute later, you found yourself with your skirt all draped around your hips and your panties hanging loosely on one of your feet.
You didn’t see Jaehyun’s head anymore, only feeling his hair in a tight grip where your panties should have been, seeing stars dancing across the ceiling that you were currently facing while he ate you out like he had all the time in the world, sensually and delicately.
His tongue dragged along your folds that had long gotten wet the first time his mouth came close to your core. Gone were all your worries and doubts, there was no room to think about anything else than he way he was devouring you now, licking and sucking between your thighs until your eyes rolled back and his name fell from your lips like hurried prayers, interrupting his slurping sounds,
“Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun…”
You angled your knees as you felt something tightening inside your lower stomach that you couldn’t pinpoint. It had first started off as a small spark, but was now coiling into something bigger that tugged on every fiber of your body. You were quite sure the fact that Jaehyun sucked on your clit and simultaneously thrusted his fingers inside of you was responsible for this indescribable feeling, more so when he grabbed you by your bare cheeks with his hands and pressed you against his mouth even stronger.
You had had orgasms before. At least that was what you had thought. They had come like a small wave, giving you a pleasant feeling and luring a silent sigh out of you, and that had been it. This orgasm right now though was on a whole other level.
Your whole body tensed up as though trying to protect itself from what was about to come, but no resistance in the world could withstand the persistence of the man who loved you to make you feel good. The coiled up sensation exploded inside of you the moment you thought you were going to die from endless pleasure, and then spread not only into your body, but also mind.
There was no control over how your body reacted, you held onto Jaehyun’s head like a lifeline with your head lolled back, and screamed his name as though in need for help, your body leaking fluids in places you would have been originally embarrassed for, but Jaehyun loved it, every single reaction he was able to lure out of you.
Underneath him didn’t lie the uptight, suppressed woman anymore, in pantsuits and with no hair out of place. It was a new woman he had now unraveled, with wild hair, heated cheeks, liberated and eager to explore worlds she had never set foot into before. And he would guide her all the way into his world.
With a grin, Jaehyun wiped over his smudged mouth while you were still trying to catch your breath, but eventually returned his expression, ready for more. His fingers were trembling a bit when he first got rid of your skirt and then unbuttoned your flowy blouse.
A flash of concern ran through your face in the blink of a moment when he undid the last button, but he understood. He helped you out of the garment, and when you eventually laid back again in front of him, bare-chested and naked from head to toe, he saw.
Jaehyun left no room for you to mistrust him though. Undressing himself from head to toe first, he then kneeled in front of you on the cushion and leaned in. With warm fingers, he reached out to your lower abdomen and then gently touched the spot of which you had been so afraid to let him see.
But the c-section-scar was a part of you and Jaehyun loved every single bit. “You’re so beautiful,” he let out, and you believed every single syllable.
He had you tightly embraced with your legs around his waist when he slowly but deliberately pushed into you. At first, it hurt quite a bit, because you hadn’t had been this intimate in so long, but when it showed on your face with a frown, Jaehyun paused and made sure you still truly wanted this with soft kisses on your temple and mouth, so that the tightness vanished almost right away.
He was settled inside of you, thick, full, and pulsing, and even though this was so much for you to take already, you wanted him to move, needed him to move. When he didn’t instantly do so though, you nearly embarrassingly pushed up against him and tried to get a tiny bit of gratification by yourself.
Jaehyun laughed lowly and kind of threateningly. “Take deep breaths first, because you are in for a long ride.”
You winced when he pulled out and only let his tip remain, because you feared he would stop right here, but then met him with a breathless gasp when he slammed back into you full force. It cost you all the air in your lungs, but you needed him to do it again as well, because it had hit a spot you had always been convinced had never existed for you in the first place.
But it did. And Jaehyun penetrated it with every thrust that he alternated between fast and shallow and slow and deep. The couch’s cushion got wet and sticky under you, and your screams only grew louder too, but you didn’t mind and didn’t care, especially not when he suddenly flipped you over and you were sitting on him, having him sheathed deep inside your core.
“You’re so beautiful”, Jaehyun repeated. He stretched out his hand and curled a lock of your hair between his fingers that he then slid down along your breast, scar and let it eventually rest on your hip. “Ride me,” he then pleaded, “ride me, please.”
Despite the fact that you had never done that before, the motions came to you naturally with the guidance of his grip around your waist. It felt good for you to decide how deep and in which angle you wanted to have him, and as you were sliding along him, you felt another orgasm nearing that you unfortunately failed to chase.
“Out of breath?” Jaehyun asked, lids heavy after enjoying this sight too much.
“I want to cum again,” you confessed, “but somehow…”
Jaehyun returned to his former position, but this time, placed either of your legs across his left and right shoulder. You didn’t know what else he was doing, but when he filled you all up from the inside again, you were feeling him so deeply and intensely like never before.
The second orgasm for this day found its root not in the pit of your stomach, but feeded on every inch of your body, so that it was an experience that left you shaking with all limbs, Jaehyun following along in long spurts across your stomach.
“I’ve never imagined sex to be like this,” you admitted when you laid in his arms shortly later, a thin blanket draped over you. The office had long closed.
“Like what?” Jaehyun asked and kissed your temple.
“So good.”
He laughed and pulled you closer to him. “That was not even my best performance yet, trust me.”
You opened your mouth in wonder. “You can do it even better? I can hardly believe it.”
“You want to try?” he challenged. “Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world to try out everything you want.”
“Okay,” you agreed. “All the time in the world, for sure. But maybe we can still start with it tonight. You never know-”
You didn’t have to call out to him twice before he disappeared under the blanket.
____
“I must say, I’m impressed. I didn’t expect this from you.”
The photos landed in front of your feet.
They showed everything.
Jaehyun and you entering your home dressed all in black, Jaehyun and you leaving the bar together, Jaehyun and you in the car in front of your parents’ house, Jaehyun and you coming out of his office at different occasions. There were even photos from yesterday after you both had…
You stood in the living room, petrified, not even your eyes were able to move to look directly at the person that was approaching you.
“You must wonder how much truth someone can spill when you just offer them more bribery money than the original party,” your mother-in-law said. “Needless to say, the security guard no longer needs his job here after providing me with the respective videos. And the rest was the dedicated work of my private detective. I sensed that something was off and hired him shortly after reading the police report on the seeming robbery.”
When you eventually lifted up your head, she stood there, looking at you with much disgust. It was at that moment that you realized you lost. She was holding the divorce papers in her hands. They had never reached your husband first, but had directly landed in her hands instead.
“I don’t care,” you sighed deeply. “I don’t care anymore. I will sign anything, I am willing to lose everything. Just… let me go. Please, just let me go.”
You didn’t want the money, you didn’t need it. Money would come back, but time didn’t, and every bit of energy you still invested in this family felt like you were losing a bit of your lifespan. You just wanted to leave and live a life dedicated to your loved ones from now on.
“Fine.” You halted, waiting for her to continue as you could almost not believe what she had just said. It couldn’t be so easy. “I am willing to let you out of this marriage, under one condition.”
Of course there would be. “What?”
“I’ve dedicated my entire life to keeping this family together,” she elaborated, “and my hard work paid off when I married off my first son well, making him the CEO of the conglomerate at the same time. My second one… well, he was always a little too spoiled and never under as much pressure as his older brother. But I let it pass, because as long as our reputation didn’t get stained, I wouldn’t look at it twice. I now wish I had as he only grew foolish and reckless. How else would he have gotten the idea of falling in love and getting an almost teenager pregnant out of wedlock?”
“This fact, we can agree on. But it was your fault that he grew up the way he is now,” you stated in defense. “He has never learned to deal with emotions, and whenever problems occurred, you were there to clean it all up regardless of the people getting hurt along the way. It was partially your family’s responsibility to make sure I was taken care of accordingly. The moment we married, I was your responsibility, too.”
Your mother-in-law screwed up her nose. “I did take care of these things my way.”
“And they were wrong!” you raised your voice, hoping that somehow, you could still speak some sense into her. “You pressured me to sign a contract of which its repercussions I could not have known at that time yet. It was my right to consult a lawyer, but I was never given a choice just like your son has never been given a choice. I was only nineteen and stripped of all my future!”
“A child out of wedlock would have destroyed everything I’ve worked so hard for,” she pressed through her gritted teeth, reluctant to admit this. “I did it all to protect my family!”
You shook your head. “And look at that family now. Was it all worth it? Was it worth the life you’re living right now?”
She didn’t know the answer to that apparently. “If you had only borne that child like my son wanted so desperately too, the problems would have all dissolved themselves. I would have endured you. Maybe you could have been a happy little family after all. But even for that, you were too weak.”
It stung. The insults pierced right through your heart, but you remembered Jaehyun’s words, and only grew from there. “No, we wouldn’t have been. I would have taken the child and filed for a divorce nonetheless, I know that now.”
“You ungrateful brat!” the elderly woman suddenly yelled. “Do you know how many girls out there would trade places with you? You’ve gotten everything someone could ever ask for, and for you it’s not enough!”
“Because there is more to this world than money and reputation!” you screamed back. “It’s not my fault you have failed to see it while you still had a choice, too!”
You were never able to forgive her, that much was true. But somewhere under her hard facade, you were sure, was hiding a young woman who had once dreamed big too. A young woman your age, who had dreamed of the love of her life and her own business. A young woman, who had been robbed of these dreams way too early and had never been given a choice either.
But that young woman had failed to escape as long as she still was able to, and got replaced by a monster that couldn’t figure its way out anymore, too entangled in a vicious circle that got passed on from generation to generation.
You wanted to break the circle and make your own choices. Perhaps, if you hadn’t gone through the past two years, you wouldn’t have had enough courage to feel like this now. Perhaps, if you hadn’t gone through the past two years, you would have turned out like her.
The trauma had made you weak, but also much stronger at the same time. You still didn’t understand, but in some way, you were grateful.
And the fact that you were now able to walk away was the reason you would always and forever remain superior to your mother-in-law.
“You must really love that lawyer of yours,” she eventually broke through your thoughts. “I just wonder how far you are willing to go for him to fulfill your condition?”
____
“Did you get your important papers?” Jaehyun happily greeted you when he opened the door to his office. “You’re back so early, is everything okay?”
The moment you hurried in his direction, he immediately knew that something was wrong. He put his index finger under your chin and angled up your head. The way your entire world shattered when he forced you to hold your gaze indicated that nothing would ever be okay again.
“You have to leave, Jaehyun,” you insisted and grabbed onto his arms. “Right now.”
He didn’t ask any questions, but trusted you fully on that. “Okay, let me just get my-”
“No.” You shook your head. “The country. You have to leave the country immediately.”
Now, he was stunned. “I don’t understand.”
“My mother-in-law knows everything,” you uttered with a trembling voice. You told him about all the bribery and the detective, and eventually about her ultimatum. “She has collected a record of illegal activities reported against you, and she will go to the police with all of it to file a charge of your criminal activities. They have connections there, Jaehyun. She promised me if she wants, she will get you in jail. Is it true? Everything on the list?”
You recited a few bullet points you had been able to remember in a whim the short moment she was holding the paper in front of you. You directly saw it in his eyes, that fact that everything was as bad as it sounded. Robbery, data corruption, forgery, lying in front of the court… you named it.
“Oh god…” You needed a moment and sat down on the couch. “Jaehyun, she can really put you in jail!”
“Then I’ll leave the country!” he instantly caved. “We can live in New York or LA instead. I’ll book the next flight, we don’t need anything. We will just start anew.”
But by your expression alone, he understood that this was only wishful, silly thinking. Only one of you could be free, and you weren’t willing to trade his freedom for yours. He had always been free, you had always been caged. You didn’t rob the person you loved of their freedom like your husband had done.
“No… Don’t make that face. You’re not gonna stay married to him.”
“Jaehyun…”
He sank on his knees in front of you, taking your hands into his. “Then I will go to jail if it means you can get divorced to your advantage. How many years can I get anyway? I did many things wrong in the past and I don’t want to be this kind of person anymore. I will legally atone for my crimes. If it means that you’re going to be free and live a happy life, then I am willing to do so.”
“I won’t ever be able to live a happy life if it is without you. I don’t care about my money or my business anymore, Jaehyun. It will all come back, I still have time for this stuff. None of these matter now. What I care about is you. I won’t allow them to take you away from me. They took so much from me already. I can’t lose you too and rip you of your future and prospects like they did with me. It’s not worth it.”
“But I’m worth it?” he asked breathlessly. “How do you know? How do you know you won’t regret everything again?”
You wrapped your fingers around his neck and pulled him nearer to you. “Because you were willing to understand my pain and connect to my past. Because you left flowers on my baby’s grave and reunited me with my family. Because without you, I wouldn’t have had the courage to do all this. Nobody has ever gone through such lengths for me. If this is not true love, then I don’t want to live in a world this deluded.” You pressed your forehead against his. “And because I truly love you too, Jaehyun, I am willing to sacrifice this all.”
He reluctantly added, “There is another way out… There must be.”
There was a hint of a faint smile on your face. “There is not.”
“There is always!” he opposed, almost desperately.
Jaehyun sank onto the cushion next to you and buried his face in his palms. Was that what defeat felt like? He had expected it to hit him hard and knock him off his feet like a wave. Instead, defeat felt like drowning. Slow, torturous drowning.
“Perhaps, but not now, not for us. If only we had been given a bit more time… But I was selfish and pushed too far, and if you don’t leave the country now, you will go to jail. And if I leave with you, then all my beloved ones will pay the price, too. The damage would be more collateral. I cannot allow this to happen, so I will stay.”
“Promise me you won’t stop fighting.” He looked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. “That you will still fight for your freedom with every help you can get. Promise me you will never give up.”
You were trying so hard to keep your composure, but ultimately all your walls broke and you were crying hot tears in Jaehyun’s arms. He held you tightly for what might be the last time ever as you repeated,
“I will keep fighting.”
____
Jaehyun had made a decision.
For that decision, he was currently collecting every tiny piece of evidence possible from his entire career as a divorce attorney.
He had always been very structured, detailed and thorough with his records, which was why it didn’t take him long to find stuff that would be enough to lock him up for years. And he kept digging so as to not leave room for the police to find more than he would hand over. If he came clear with everything and turned himself in, punishment wouldn’t be so hard and he could see you again in a few years time.
You didn’t want this, he knew, but in a hopeless situation, this was the scenario that was the most hopeful.
Ironically, Jaehyun thought to himself, he had never been a person full of hope before meeting you.
“Can I come in?”
A monotonous male voice interrupted him, and he absent-mindedly answered, “I’m busy and we’re already out of the office hours. Come back tomorrow.”
“I just assumed you might want to read through these papers right now, checking whether I signed everything right.”
Jaehyun had never heard your husband’s voice in real life before, but now that he had and looked up from his desk, he found it really matched his face. It was dull and boring, even though he was a conventionally good-looking, well groomed man in his early thirties - that much he was able to judge objectively considering he hated him to the core.
“I don’t know whether you’re stupid or brave coming here,” Jaehyun said coldly. “I’ll just freely assume it’s both.”
Mr. Kang let a bag, that Jaehyun only noticed now, drop on the floor, not reacting to his taunt at all. By your stories alone, he already got the impression that your husband wasn’t a man of many words… or emotions and expression at all.
“Inside here are a few clothes, her documents, ID and passport. She wanted to get these this morning, right? And here are the signed divorce papers.” He dropped the staple on Jaehyun’s desk. “I’ve already consulted my lawyer. Whatever she’s asking for, she will get. I will agree on everything.”
Jaehyun drew the paper across the surface closer to him. He turned a few pages and realized that no alterations had been made so far. And Mr. Kang’s signature was right there as well.
“Where did you get this?”
“What my mother has gotten into her hands was a mere copy. The original documents had been handed over to me by the messenger the same day you had sent them out. I apologize that it took me so long. It was a decision easily made, but not easy to get through with my family. But my brother was very supportive and still is. My mother on the other hand, not so much when she will find out tomorrow. I’ll deal with it.”
Jaehyun closed the documents again and heaved up his head. “So… that’s all?”
“No.” Mr. Kang quietly shook his head, continuing with his initial monotonous tone, “I cannot prevent her from filing a police report against you, and knowing her, she will directly do so first thing in the morning when I confront her with the facts. That’s why you have to make haste and leave the country. Here.” He placed a very obvious plane ticket on the desk that was booked under Jaehyun’s name, dated for today still.
It was not the first time Jaehyun was hearing these words, yet he stood by his decision. “I won’t leave like a coward. I will cooperate and get the punishment I deserve.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Mr. Kang said, a little more emotion in his voice now. “Do you think when you get released, it will all be over? It’s only going to start from then on. You will not only lose your practice license, but everyone dear to you too. You will never have a day of peace, and therefore, she won’t either. You don’t want that life for her.”
Again, Jaehyun felt hopelessness choking him. He was willing to suffer the rest of his life for all of his wrongdoings if he must. He just didn’t want to drag you down with him. “What should I do?”
“Go far, far away from here. Don’t leave any trace and wait until the divorce is finalized until you let her come to you. I guess you have partners or assistants that can take over the legal parts for you in your firm. Anyway, I will make sure we will push through with the contract that you have set up.”
Jaehyun knew this was the silver lining in a near desperate situation. “Can I still tell her goodbye?”
“If you want to ever see her again, then you must leave right now. The plane departs at midnight.”
“How do I know I can trust your words?”
“Indeed, there is no way you can. But you don't have a choice.”
“Can I at least trust you to make sure she will be alright until she can come to me?”
“Yes,” Mr. Kang confirmed, and for the first time, Jaehyun could make out a clear expression etched into his face. Relief? “After all, I have given her a promise at our wedding. I will keep her safe until it’s all over. You’re not the only one, I want to atone for all my mistakes too. I just want you to know that I have truly loved her. I just wasn’t capable of showing up when I was needed. So I’m happy for her that someone is now.”
“I think this is something you have to tell her in person yourself. And many more things, probably.”
Mr. Kang nodded.
It was not Jaehyun’s place to judge other people’s relationships. What you had truly felt for each other at one point in your lives, it was up to you both to make out with yourselves - or not. Jaehyun just didn’t want you to hurt any longer. Everything else was irrelevant to him.
“Don’t expect a thank you, Mr. Kang.”
“I’m not. I’m not expecting anything from you, Mr. Jeong.”
Jaehyun hurriedly grabbed the most important documents from his desk and the shelves all while preparing to drop by at his home real quick to pick up his passport. “Can you tell her something from me? Or not… whatever you want to do.” He had seldomly felt so at a loss for the right words. “If you are willing to pass on my message though… She will arrive here soon and I need to be gone by then... Tell her to not come and say goodbye. I will contact her when it’s safe. I hope it won’t take long.”
“This, I will do,” he confirmed. “For her.”
____
Jaehyun had only packed a small bag with a few clothing pieces, some cash and important documents, nothing more. The papers he was taking with him included a specific file that gave him access to a secret bank account in another country into which he had booked different amounts of money any time he won a case. It wasn’t as much as his real asset, but it came close and was definitely enough to start anew somewhere else.
“Do you carry any liquids in your bag, sir?”
Jaehyun shook his head. He had already put his bag and jacket on the tray, patting his pockets one last time to look for remaining items he still had to get rid of before passing the security.
“Jaehyun!”
Brushing it off as an intrusive thought, he continued with his motions, until he heard again, this time from a clearly familiar voice,
“JEONG JAEHYUN! HOW DARE YOU!”
When he turned around, he caught you verbally fighting with the employees who checked the board pass before passengers moved on to the security. “Let me go, I have to talk to that person!”
“You need a ticket to pass through here, ma’am,” one of them carefully explained to you, flinching any time you made a move as he surely couldn’t estimate your outburst.
“Fine! Then I’ll buy one! Hurry up!”
“To buy a ticket, you have to go the counter and-”
“I don’t have time for that. Jaehyun!”
He didn’t have enough time to process everything of the scenario that was now unfolding in his sight. You really dared to push one employee aside who then stumbled into the other one’s arms. And before they could catch onto what was currently happening to them, you had already dropped your purse, gripped the railing with two hands and just jumped over the barricade like it was nothing.
In the background, Jaehyun perceived how the employees slowly caught onto the happenings after the initial shock and apparently called for backup with their walkie-talkies. Luckily, the TSA hadn’t caught wind of your unruly behavior yet as both sections were partially separated by walls, so Jaehyun left everything on the tray behind and ran towards you as you were doing the same.
Quickly, he grabbed your hand and dragged you to one corner of the hall, right between these two airport sections, where it would take either party the longest time to arrive.
“Why are you here?” Jaehyun asked, nearly out of breath when you came to a standstill. “You’re supposed to pick up your bag from my office and go to your parents’ house!”
“I know but I couldn’t!” You squeezed his hand. “You were really going to leave without giving me a chance to say goodbye? How dare you!”
“I’m sorry, I just…” Only when he was at the check-in, it had dawned on him that he had made the wrong decision. Even if your husband had warned him, he should have taken that risk. That much, you owed the person you loved. “I’m just not good at saying goodbye. I didn’t know what to say… even now, I don’t know.”
“Please don’t do this! Don’t strip me of my choice! Not you too!”
Jaehuyn shook his head and cupped your face. “I would never do that! I would have called or texted you right when I arrived. Even if it was risky. I just cannot bear… yeah, this. I didn’t want to see you cry again. This time it’s my fault.”
With his thumbs, he brushed over your cheeks, wiping away your tears. From the corners of his eyes, he already saw the fetched security arriving at the section, looking in your direction. There was not much time left anymore.
“This is my choice,” you said under tears. “You are my choice. And if you don’t come back, Jaehyun, I will fly over there myself, are we in the clear?”
He chuckled and you cracked a faint smile as well. “I believe you. I don’t think we need a contract for that. It may take a bit of time… so will you wait for me?”
“I will always wait for you. That’s what I said, right? I will wait for my true love, no matter how much time it takes. Just please, if you can, don’t take too long.”
Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against his chest. The security was already approaching you, but they weren’t running, possibly because they had already sensed there was no danger radiating from you. Just two people in love who needed to say one last goodbye to each other.
“I’ll hurry up,” he muttered into your hair and placed a kiss on your parting. “In the meantime, go back to university, get your degree and work hard for your business, but don’t forget to live your life, too. I want to return in time for your graduation ceremony.”
“Jaehyun…” You looked up to him with big, tear-filled eyes. “Then I will work hard so that it won’t take long.”
Eventually, the security reached them. “Ma’am, we have to kindly ask you to leave.”
Jaehyun let go of you before the two security men would drag you away from him themselves, and you unwillingly let him. “I promise I’ll be there!”
“I rely on your word!” you were still able to say before following the security out. “I love you!”
“I love you too.”
____
Police investigations started shortly after Jaehyun landed in the US. They were looking for him the next two years, and you had to stay apart for just as long.
He missed the moment you finalized your divorce after a year.
He missed the moment you re-entered university that same year.
He missed the moment you graduated with your degree a year later.
He missed every single important moment in your life.
____
‘GRAND OPENING’
was written on the fancy border that hung over the entrance door to your small shop.
You hadn’t expected for five people to already show up at the opening hour sharp, but you were well prepared and handed them a glass of champagne each. You walked them around, presenting to them a few of your hand-picked pieces.
There were gowns with reserved, classic cuts, more elaborate gowns with a lot of tulle, short skirts, long sleeved dresses, tight and wide dresses, and a broad selection of accessories like veils and gloves in addition.
“My heart lies within this shop,” you explained to the group of women. “I want to gather as many different styles as possible to suit everyone’s preferences. After all, it’s going to be the happiest day of your life, and you shouldn’t only look beautiful, but also feel comfortable. Whatever you want to add or alternate on your overall look, me and my team will accommodate that. Please feel free to look around and call for me if you need my assistance.”
You moved behind the counter and looked excitedly at your first possible customers, being happy to share this day with the people special to you too as later on, your family and friends would pay you a visit for the official opening party.
There was always one person missing though, and whenever you thought of it, your heart got so heavy.
The opening of your own bridal shop was another milestone in your life that Jaehyun was missing. Even though two months ago it was announced that the Aewha Group had gone bankrupt because of a tax fraud having been committed over the years, he had still deemed it unsafe to return and wanted to wait a bit more.
You wondered why and slowly grew impatient as the police had already stopped pushing the case forward because of the lack of evidence as almost no one wanted to testify against him. Since the Aewha Group was now down as well and the owners had a fair share of other, graver problems to deal with, you had proposed to him to come pay you a visit.
“It’s too dangerous,” Jaehyun had said.
“Then I’ll come!”
Again, he had said, “You don’t have to. Soon, I can return.”
But when was ‘soon’ anyway as he’d been saying it for a year already?
In secret, you had already bought a plane ticket to California for next month. Two years had already passed in which you couldn’t see each other, and if it continued, then you would be the one to go to jail for other reasons, you knew that, and those reasons included kidnapping the man you loved.
After an entire day of working where you had been successful to make fitting appointments with three bridal groups, it was time for the opening party. You saw your parents, grandparents, friends and other acquaintances, not only from the past, but also from the last two years, walk into your shop, gazing at the garments and celebrating with you.
There were beverages and snacks being served, everyone was dressed up and music was playing in the background. It was a gathering among the people close to you to celebrate the success you had been working so hard for the past two years.
You knew that, if you hadn’t met a certain person, you wouldn’t be standing here right now, giving a speech to your loved ones. But after all the trauma and pain, you were here, bright and successful with a future just as promising.
You just wished the person you were the most grateful for could have joined as well.
“Thank you so much for coming and celebrating with me. Please enjoy tonight,” you ended your speech.
“There is something I have to say too,” someone said in the background, and the hair on your neck suddenly stood up. “Actually, there is so much I have to say, but I will try to keep it short.”
Only after a few seconds, you were able to break through the petrification. From the corner of your peripheral, you saw your friends giggling and your parents looking at you lovingly. Before you met his gaze eventually, tears already started to burn on the rim of your eyes.
You felt his warm hand on your naked arm, his fingers slowly sliding down to intertwine with yours. It had been so long since you had last seen each other in person, but as you now stood in front of Jaehyun, it felt like no time had passed at all.
He was just as handsome and well built as two years ago. If anything, he looked even better. Maturity suited him so well. He was smiling at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his expression with the same intensity, because different emotions washed over you all at once, so that you didn’t know how to feel at first.
You wanted to get angry at him and yell at him why it had taken him so long.
You wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and have him hold you tightly.
You wanted to kiss him deeply and get undressed to feel every inch of him.
In the end, you didn’t do anything but start crying. It was all just too much.
“Why are you here?” you asked, still believing it was all not real.
You felt him squeezing your fingers. “I just couldn’t miss another milestone of yours.”
“Why did it take you so long?”
“There were a few things I needed to sort out before I could return. Finding someone to take over my law office, for example. Just the formals.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, you idiot? I bought a ticket for next month!”
He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s what I sensed and came here as fast as possible.”
“How long are you going to stay?” you sniffed.
“This time, I hope forever.” You saw him move in your blurry vision and blinked through your tears. Or better say, you saw it blinking in front of your eyes as he was holding a ring in front of you. “If you let me be your husband, of course. So… will you? Will you accept me as your husband?”
You pouted. “Where are we going to live?”
“Here, of course.”
“And you’re not on the run anymore?”
“I will only do stuff according to ethics, morals and the law.”
“Can I plan the wedding myself?”
At this point, you were only teasing him, but after what he had put you through, he let you. “You can do whatever you want, I will say yes to everything my wife says.”
“Very well.” You paused. “Under one condition.”
“Hm?”
Then, you broke into a wide smile. Those tears on your face had always only been happy tears. “We will never set up a prenup.”
“Of course,” Jaehyun agreed. “Because we will never get divorced anyway.”
Then, you finally fell into his arms and kissed him deeply. It was like two missing pieces coming together, a surge of complete bliss streaming through your bodies the moment your lips met. This, this was it. This was what it must feel like to finally be with your true love. You never wanted to be apart again.
The ring looked beautiful on your finger, and as you both turned around to show it to your guests, you saw in their reactions that they had been let in on the planned happenings of this night quite a while ago.
Your opening party had magically turned into your engagement party.
Summary: To ensure his position in the company, Jake proposed to you in front of his dad. What started of as a fake marriage, slowly turns into real romance with a bit of drama.
Contents warning: Cursing, mention of 'kys', implied sh, may or may not make you puke due to the fluff, suggestive, mention of third party, a tiny bit of angst (like as big as one virus)
Word Count: 16k
A/n: Ngl, this is the first time I wrote so much for a fanfic. Even I was surprised I managed to go passed 10k lmao. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it ^^
There you go - a sentence that Jake has been waiting to hear from his dad.
Jake was born with a golden spoon in his mouth. Despite being wealthy, he chose to live just like the others. He would prefer to do a lot of things by himself. He finds satisfaction in it.
Sim family is known to have one of the largest businesses in Asia and the examples for others. So, when Jake has finally reached 'the age', it's natural to expect him to become the next successor.
Jake has an older brother. However, he chose to venture into different field, leaving Jake as his dad's only hope to take over the company.
But, in order for his dad to grant the status to Jake, he has to get married. It was his dad's main condition.
His dad had always been living with the principle of behind every successful man, there is his wife. According to his dad, being married motivates him to be better both personally and career-wise so that he can provide more for his wife and his children.
On the contrary, Jake believes in independency. No, it's not that he hates love or relationship. In fact, he was in a relationship back then. Unfortunately, things happened, and they drifted away from each other. Nobody really knows about it and Jake wished to keep it that way.
"Is it really necessary, dad," he asked his dad.
"Of course. Getting married and loving your wife with all your heart will help you in gaining people's trust better - rather than be single. You will appear more... capable and trustworthy."
"But-"
Just as Jake was about to say something, his dad cut him off by placing a file on the coffee table between both of them.
"This is Kim's eldest daughter. I heard that she graduated from fashion designing with good result. Personally, I think that she is a perfect woman to be your wife."
Jake looks at the file and at his dad with a raised brow.
"Really? A blind date?"
Mr. Sim just shrugs his shoulder. "Well, it's not like you will ever introduce anyone to me, right?"
Jake leans his back against the couch and let out a deep sigh. God, one thing he doesn't like is going on a blind date which is arranged by others without his consent.
He don't like it when people tell him to do stuff that he doesn't want to do. It makes him feel like he is being force to do things. Last thing he wants is to hurt an innocent woman.
As Jake is in deep thought, there's a knock coming from outside Mr. Sim's office.
"Come in," his dad said.
You turn the knob and enter the room with a tray of coffee cups in your hand. You bow your head slightly at both Jake and Mr. Sim before walking towards the table and place the cups on it.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Sim?"
Jake's dad shakes his head at you. "That's all for now. Thank you, Ms. Y/LN."
You bow your head for the second time before walking away from both of them. But just as you were about to turn the knob, Jake calls out your name.
"Ms. Y/LN."
You turn your head to him.
"Yes?"
Jake flashes a small smile to you.
"Can you come here for a while, please?"
Your head tilts slightly but still turning your heels around and walk towards Jake.
"Yes, Mr. Sim. May I help you?"
A few seconds passed by before Jake looks up at you with a wider smile. He then turns to his dad.
"Dad, actually, I'm planning to marry Ms. Y/LN."
"WHAT?!"
Both you and his dad said in unison. As if on cue, both of you also look at each other with eyes widened.
"I-"
"Y/n..."
Jake cut you off by calling your name softly, making you turn to him with the same widened eyes.
"I'm sorry I had to propose to you this way when I already had plan to surprised you. I promise I'll make it up to you, okay."
You and Jake are not really strangers. Both of you went to the same high school back then and reunited when you first entered the company as Mr. Sim's - his dad's - secretary.
The difference is that both of you barely talk to each other. You only know each other's name, and that's it. So, when Jake suddenly confessed to his dad that he wants to marry you, it makes you dumbstruck.
"I never knew you and Jake are dating, Ms. Y/LN."
You turn your head to Mr. Sim and open your mouth to say something. But nothing seems to come out.
"I asked her to keep it private since it had only been a few months since we got together."
Jake told another lie. You turn to Jake to say something. But, before you can do anything, he reaches out to hold your hand and flashing a soft smile to you.
"But every time I'm with her, I felt nothing but love, warmth, and comfort. That's how I know she's the one for me."
God, if you didn't know any better, you would have said that he's telling the truth. Anyone would coo at how adorable Jake is despite he is telling a lie. That is how good all of this is.
To tell the truth, you have always found Jake attractive just like other girls. Although both of you have never talk to one another, you did observe him from time to time.
Just like any other schools, there will always be at least a heartthrob - and Jake happened to be one of it during high school along with his other two friends.
As much as you would like to mind your own business, you can't help your eyes to look at him from afar. Every time he's around his friends, he will always have that big happy smile that can melt any hearts around him.
You find it cute and adorable at the same time. But that was it. He was only your eye candy back in high school.
Yet, here you are, in his car as his out-of-nowhere fiancé.
After he - somehow - proposed to you in front of his dad, he asked for Mr. Sim's permission to bring you out for the day, saying that he wants to make it up to you.
Of course, being the loving understanding dad, he allowed it without knowing that it was all just a scam.
"Where are we going, Mr. Sim?" You asked.
"Somewhere other than the office." Jake gave a simple answer.
Just like that, both of you are back in the silence. You turn your head to look out the window as Jake continue to focus on his driving. As much you want to say something, you feel like it's best to give each other some space.
You don't know how long have passed by but the way the cityscape suddenly changed into beach view proved to you that Jake has brought you somewhere far. Probably an hour or two.
Jake slows down the speed as the car reaching to its destination. He pulled the hand brake and turn the gear into 'P'. He let out a deep sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt and open the door.
You watch as Jake exits the car and walk towards the sandy area. After a while, you decide to follow him. You open the door and walk towards the man, standing beside him.
You were about to speak when suddenly Jake cut you off.
"I'm sorry."
You just keep quiet, allowing Jake to continue his words.
"I'm sorry I pulled you into this mess. I dislike the idea of anyone forcing me to date, let alone get married."
"Then, why didn't you say so?"
Jake bites his lower lips. "I can't. I know I'm the only heir that my dad has left. If I didn't take over, God knows what will happen to the company."
You turn towards Jake. "Then, why me? Am I not being forced to get married with you?"
Jake's eyes soften at your words. You're right. He did force you to do something you don't want to when he himself hate when someone did that to him.
What a hypocrite.
"Y/n. I know we don't really know each other that much. But I need your help. Just this once. After I become the CEO, we will discuss the next step. Is that okay?"
You look into Jake's eyes. This is the first time in your whole life have you seen him looking so desperate. His demeanour used to be confident. It's almost as if he got everything under control.
But today, today is different. He looks like someone who is willing to do anything just so he could keep his title. Just the thought of it makes you scoff lightly.
"Okay, I will help you just this once. You owe me big time, Mr. Sim."
You held out your hand for Jake to shake.
"You won't be disappointed, Ms. Y/L/N."
Flashback:
Finally, lunch hour, students' favourite time of the day. As usual, Jake would spend his time with his best friends - Jay and Sunghoon.
"Should we go on a trip during summer?" Sunghoon asked.
"What about Jeju?"
"We've been there a lot of times, Jay," Jake said.
Jay poked his rice using the spoon as a pout formed on his face.
"But I like it there. The view is beautiful."
Jake and Sunghoon looked at each other before laughing together.
"You're so cute when you're sulking," the youngest among them teased.
As Jay and Sunghoon were having their normal banters, Jake's eyes fell upon a girl. A girl in her ponytail, eating her food with her friends around her. From time to time, she would engage with the conversation as well by joining them or simply laughed at her friend's joke.
Jake saw her for the first time when he was walking out the infirmary. He was not feeling well that day, so he decided to take a rest.
Coincidentally, she was walking towards the infirmary as well. She stopped on her track when she saw him.
"Are you okay," she asked.
Jake nodded his head at her. "I'm good."
She smiled softly at him. "That's a relief. Take a break when you need it. Don't push yourself too much. You deserve some break."
She walked away after conveying her message, leaving Jake at the hallway.
Ever since then, he would see her almost everywhere at school. Wherever he went to, she would be there as well. It was as if fate was trying to match them together.
"You're staring again," Jay said as he nudged Jake's shoulder.
"You should really just talk to her at this point."
Jake shook his head lightly. "No, I like it like this. It's better like this."
Sunghoon let out a sigh and Jay shrugged his shoulder before both of them continue eating their foods.
Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake had always been together ever since they were little. Yet, ever since Jake met her, it was as if a new side of Jake appeared right before their eyes. Surprisingly, it only appeared whenever the girl was around. Whenever you were around.
Jake claimed that it was him admiring someone. But to Jay and Sunghoon, it was definitely more than that.
—
“I never knew this day would come.”
You just smile at your dad’s words as you continue to eat your food with Jake beside you.
Two weeks after the so-called-proposal that Jake pulled in front of his dad, both of you decided to visit your parents to lay out the message. Well, technically you told Jake to meet your parents. If they approved of him, then you’re good to go.
“Thank you, uncle and auntie, for allowing me inside this beautiful house of yours.”
Your mom let out a soft laugh. “Our house is small compared to yours. It is our honour that you are willing to come to our house instead.”
True to your mom’s words, you were not born with golden spoon. Compared to Jake’s family, yours are more of in the middle class. Your family didn’t gain as much as Sim’s family, but it's already more than enough.
“How do you find the foods, Jake?”
Jake looks up to your mom and flashes her a happy grin.
So cute, just like a kid, you thought to yourself.
“It’s so delicious. It’s true what they said. No foods can ever be compared to a mother’s cooking.”
Everyone including you laugh at his words. You missed being in this environment. So warm, so full of love and affections. No, you don’t have bad blood with your family. You were just rarely home due to your work.
But now that you’re here, you aren’t going to miss a chance to spend more time with your family as much as you can.
As the night came, your dad and Jake decided to spend their time together at the backyard of your house, giving you a chance to spend time with your mom.
Your dad sips on the coffee that he made earlier.
“Why did you choose Y/n?”
Jake turns his head to look at the elder man beside him. With a small smile on his face, Jake lifts his head to the sky.
“Y/n is a nice woman. She cares for others a lot. She would do anything to make everyone around her happy. She will give her 100% towards something that matters to her.”
Jake lets out a soft sigh, almost dreamily.
“Before I know it, I want to be with her. I want to be there for her. I want to do things for her. I want to care for her. I want to protect her.”
Jake swallows his saliva, trying to maintain his composure in front of his soon-to-be father-in-law.
“So, you want to marry my daughter just because she is nice?”
Your dad’s question makes Jake look at him, who is already looking at Jake. Jake smile to himself before shaking his head.
“No, I did not ask for her hand simply because she is nice. I want to marry her because she makes me better as a human being. Everything seems smooth every time we are together. Before I know it, I can’t imagine myself with anyone but her. She is the only woman I want to have a future with. No one else, but y/n.”
Your dad considered his words carefully. He then put his hand on Jake’s shoulder.
“Y/n… she is our only child. She had always done things by herself. There are times where we would feel worried for her. Well, up until now, we still are. So, when she brought you back home, her mom and I felt better. At least we know that she won’t be alone forever.”
Jake just smiles at your dad’s words. Oh, how would he feel if he knew our marriage is only for a while, he thought.
“Thank you, Jake, for looking after our angel. She is everything to us. I hope you feel the same as well.”
Jake just nods his head at your dad’s words before both of them drink the coffee from their own cup.
Making you as his everything; will Jake be able to do that?
Flashback:
Jake had lost count on how many drinks he had tonight. As he tried to reach for another one, Jay hit his hand, making him groaned in pain.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jake? You looked like a mess.”
Jake just scoffed at Jay’s words. He looked up at his friends and gritted his teeth.
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t go through what I went through. It hurts. It fucking hurts.”
Sunghoon sigh for the nth times for the night. Both him and Jay had been trying to understand Jake's situation. But the only thing Jake revealed was that he broke up with his girlfriend. That was it. He didn’t say how nor why. No matter how many times they asked him, he kept his mouth shut.
“I really love her, guys. I don’t think I can live without her.”
Jay rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself down from exploding to the drunken man. The words “he’s my friend” keep on chanting in his head. He was about to open his mouth, but Sunghoon cut him off.
“Die then.”
Jake looked up at his friend’s words. His eyes widened, surprised at the sudden reaction.
“The fuck did you just say to me?!”
Sunghoon shrugged his shoulder. “You said you can’t live without her. So, go on and die. It’s easy.”
Jake’s eyes that were filled with tears turned into anger. He stood up from his seat and grabbed Sunghoon’s collar, making everyone including Jay surprised.
“You think you are better than me?!”
Sunghoon held Jake’s hand with his before smirking at him.
“I am. I’m not the drunk one here.”
Jake’s hand turned into a fist. God, he hated Sunghoon at this moment. He fucking hates the guy in front of him. He was about to punch Sunghoon, but Jay managed to stop it by pushing his fist away and broke off his grip from Sunghoon’s collar.
“Enough! Both of you, out!”
They stared at each other angrily before walking out of the premise with Jay following behind.
Minutes have passed since they were sitting outside of a convenience store. Not long after, Jay walked out of the store with canned coffees and a water bottle in his hands. He gave one of the coffees to Sunghoon and the water bottle to Jake.
The three of them continued to stay in silence before Jake decided to break it first.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t lash out to you.”
Sunghoon pursued his lips. “I’m sorry too. It was immature of me trying to stir you up.”
Jay just looked at both of his friends with a smile. This is the friendship that the three always had. Countless of fights, countless of apologies. It’s hard sometimes, but this friendship is important to them, and they knew they need each other.
“I just… I don’t know if I can love other person the way I love her.”
Jay reached out to pat his friend’s back.
“You will bro. You will. Trust me.”
Jake just nodded his head, too tired to even say anything at this point. All he knew was that he loved his now ex-girlfriend with all his heart. He gave her everything that he could give. Time, presents, everything.
Yet, it still ended this way. Four years of relationship, ended just like that. Jake really thought that she would be his forever. Well, he thought wrong. Maybe it’s time for him to focus on himself. He had been focusing on others for too long. He deserved his own peaceful time.
“Ah, right. We heard that y/n got into your dad’s company as his secretary.”
Sunghoon’s words interrupted Jake from his own thoughts. Jake’s brows frowned at the sudden mention of your name.
“Yeah, why?”
Jay who was silent suddenly sat up straight on his chair and looked at Jake.
“Really?! Y/n is working with your dad? The y/n?”
Jake nodded his head slowly.
“Yeah. It’s almost a month now if I’m not mistaken.”
Jay let out a relief sigh before patting Jake’s shoulder.
“That’s nice. You get to work with the one you admired before.”
Right. You were the woman that he admired up until the end of high school. After both of you graduated, you and Jake parted ways, following your own dream. It’s not like both of you had special connections anyway. The interactions that you had with him were not enough for both of you to be considered as a friend.
But now that Jay and Sunghoon mentioned about it, Jake was reminded of the first day you stepped into the company.
He would never admit in front of his friends that he actually got excited when he saw you walking into the office. It had been so long since he last saw you.
You looked more mature than when you were in high school. The outfit that you had on was professional, yet it made you look beautiful. As beautiful as Jake remembered.
You might slowly lose your teenage features, but you still managed to turn Jake’s head effortlessly – just like when both of you were in high school.
—
Three months after the proposal and a day after the wedding ceremony, you found yourself entering an unfamiliar house – Jake’s house. It's official. You are now Mrs. Sim Y/n.
You look around the living room. You did not expect his house to look neat and cozy at the same time. With all the furniture being white in colour, it made the interior looks more spacious than it already is.
You never thought of him as a guy who would pay much attention to the interior. He looked like the type of guy that might hire any designer and let them do their magic.
"Having fun?"
You whip your head to the voice behind you. There he is, standing in all his glory, your - now - husband.
"You have good eyes."
Your compliment makes Jake's lips curl up into a smile. A smile that you used to see since high school.
"Thanks."
He walks towards you. Before you could do anything, his hand reaches for yours and he bring it up to his face, enough to look at the ring on your finger.
He looks at how it sparkles with a small smile before kissing it softly, a small gasp escapes your lips but not enough to reach Jake's ears.
“Thank you for marrying me, y/n,” he said sincerely.
Your heart soften at his words. Unconsciously, you rub his hand that is holding yours since earlier.
“It’s nothing. Besides, it will only be for a while, right?”
Jake just hums softly at your words. Of course, he didn’t forget about it. Heck, he was the one who came up with all of these. Contract marriage – and it will last up until he got his title as the CEO.
"Just so you know y/n, although it is only for a while, I will still perform my duty as your husband until the end of it."
You look into Jake's eyes, trying to see if there is any hidden agenda. But all you can see is honesty and sincerity.
Jake is known as a man of his words. He is not someone who would turn away from his promise, let alone lying. Heck, he doesn't even know how to lie.
You've seen his attempts to lie during high school and it always ended with him stuttering and his cheeks slowly turning crimson. His lips jutted out into a cute pout, resembling a puppy sulking.
Everyone was telling you that ‘you're so lucky to have him as your husband’, not knowing that this marriage has its own expiry date. Sooner or later, both of you will put this into an end. You know that.
And yet, you can't help but feel a little tug on your heart when Jake said the last few words.
Refused to let your emotion to get the best of you, you flash him a small smile.
"I will do my best as Mrs. Sim as well while it last."
Ever since then, Jake and you have done nothing but keep your words.
Every morning before going to work, you would prepare him breakfast and eat together with him. Then, both of you would go to the office together. When both of you are done with your job, he would wait for you in the car to go back home together.
After you’re done with your shower, you would prepare dinner while waiting for Jake to finish washing up. Then, both of you would sit together and have dinner while having a small talk in between.
During the weekends, Jake will ask you if you have any plans. Sometimes you would tell him that you want to go out, sometimes you just want to stay at home.
If you chose to go out, he would go with you, spending his time and money for you the entire day. Not gonna lie, you've made countless attempts to pay for yourself. But Jake will always be two steps ahead from you. Guess it's the perks of marrying the Sim Jaeyun.
If you decided to stay at home, he would be there as well. Sometimes he would help you cooking – or more like purposely disturbing you. When you are reading a book, he would join you with cup of teas in hand.
Before you know it, you and Jake have become closer and more comfortable with each other. What used to be only standing side-by-side turns into walking together while holding hands. During grocery shopping, he would stand behind you and push the trolley together with you in front of him while walking through aisle by aisle. When you are watching a movie in the living room, he would lay his head on your lap and ask for your attention – just like a puppy would.
Everyone with eyes is envious of your relationship. Both of you totally looks like a happy couple. It’s as if the world belongs to both of you, and only to both of you.
Honestly, you would say the same thing to yourself as well. Jake had been nothing but a loving caring husband. He takes good care of you, always be there for you. He’s really the man of his words.
However, there are times where he can be an annoying ass. Such as right now.
You are putting on your make up to go out with him and he’s just… there, staring at you since God knows when. It was something that he would do every single time you’re getting ready be it to go to the mall or to the office. As you are finishing your touch on your blush, you let out a soft sigh and turn your head to him.
“Yes, is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Sim?”
Jake just shakes his head lightly. His lips curl up into a small smirk.
“Nothing. Just admiring my beautiful wife.”
There he goes again, teasing you. These past few weeks, he had been calling you names and giving you compliments. And he would say it with affections. Every time he did that, your heart beat for him.
God, am I in love with this man?
You roll your eyes, trying to hide the fact that he made you shy. Thanks to your blush as well that he won’t notice that your cheeks turn red because of him.
“Enough with that, Jake. Let’s go. We’ll be late.”
Jake bites his lower lips to avoid grinning too widely. Obviously, he knows how he makes you feel. You are not the only one who have been watching him since high school. He also did the same to you. Probably a tad bit more than you did – and you don’t need to know that.
So, he would know how you look when you’re happy and upset. He knows the difference between your real and fake smile. He knows about it.
He might not say it out loud but ever since he told you he would do his part as your husband; he didn’t think it will be this far. At first, he thought he would just provide for you and that’s it.
But he was wrong. The more he spends his time with you, the more he knows the real you. The more he talks to you, the more he craves for your affection. He used to sleep on his side the first few days after marriage. Now, he can’t imagine not having you in his arms at night. He might not even be able to sleep if you were not there for him to hug.
He knew it would be easy to get married to you. You won’t cause him troubles. You won’t stress him out. You know how to take care of yourself. You know how to do things on your own.
But he didn’t expect that it would be this easy for him to be himself around you. He didn’t know it would be easy for him to accept you into his new life. Most importantly, he didn’t know that he could love again like how he used to.
Actually, scratch that. He loves you more than he used to love anyone in his life. That speaks volume. If Jay and Sunghoon are here, they would give him the ‘I told you so’ look.
I love y/n. I really love this woman with all my heart.
“Y/n?”
You and Jake were walking with your arm around his when suddenly a voice called out for you. You turn to your back, and your jaw dropped instantly at your sight. Without second thought, you let go of your husband and run towards the person.
“Sunoo! What are you doing here?”
You pulled Sunoo into a hug, and he reciprocates by wrapping his arms around your waist. Your husband’s eyes widened at the sight.
Did she forget she has a husband?! Jake thought to himself.
You released Sunoo from the hug so that he can reply to you better.
“I was just walking around. Didn’t expect you to be here as well.”
You nod your head at him. After a few seconds, you turn to Jake and call him using your hand gesture.
Jake walks beside you. His eyes shooting hole into Sunoo’s face as his jaw tighten.
“I know you’ve met him before, but this is Jake, my husband.”
You introduced the man to Sunoo and lands your head against your husband’s shoulder, completely oblivious at how pissed Jake looked right now.
Unlike you, Sunoo as a man, can see how jealous the man in front of him is. I mean, which husband won’t be jealous when his wife hugs another guy right in front of his face. Smiling to himself, Sunoo politely held out his hand towards Jake.
“Hey, we met at the wedding but I’m Sunoo, y/n’s friend.”
Jake didn’t say anything but shakes Sunoo’s hand, for the sake of you. He pulls his hand away almost instantly, making the other man’s lips curl into a small smirk.
“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds behind. Don’t want to interrupt the date. See you when I see you, y/n.”
Sunoo pats your arm and give Jake a courtesy nod before walking away, leaving you together with your husband.
You were about to say something when Jake beat you to it.
“Is it fun being friendly with another guy in front of your husband’s face?”
You blink your eyes at the sudden burst of jealousy from Jake. You study his face properly. His cheeks are red as a result of him trying to hold back his anger. His lips forming a pout, the same one that you’ve witnessed since high school.
Jake looks so adorable right now that he makes you snort lightly.
“Oh? Is my husband jealous?”
Jake squints his eyes at you before turning his head away.
“Any husband would hate to see his wife being all over a guy other than him.”
He is jealous, you thought to yourself. You were about to console him, but before you could say anything, Jake decided to walk ahead of you, purposely leaving you as a sign of protest.
His action makes you scoff. Despite his height being taller than you and not to mention his status higher than you, he still acts like a kid. You shake your head before chasing after him.
“Where are you going~” you asked him teasingly.
“Away from you.”
You let out a soft ‘ooh’ before continuing to chase after him. When you are within the reach, you hold his hand, stopping him from his track. Although his body is facing you, his head is still facing the other side.
You bring his hand to your lips and leave a soft kiss against his knuckle. You can feel him stiffen at your sudden action, but he still refuses to face you. You let out a soft sigh before your lips curl up into a smile.
It’s usually the husband you have to persuade his wife, but now, it’s the other way around – and you are not complaining about it.
“You don’t have to worry about it, Jake. I’m not his type.”
Your words manage to make Jake faces you. His brows that were frowning earlier become deeper as he heard your sentences.
“Why? You are beautiful. You are nice. Anyone would want you. How can you not be his ideal type? Does he think that he’s better than y-”
Jake’s mouth was stopped by your finger against it. If only he’s not upset with you, he might as well kiss it. But his ego got the best of him, so he just stands there silently.
“It’s not like that. What I mean to say is… women are not his type.”
Your husband nods his head when you explain-
“Wait. So, Sunoo is…”
He doesn’t need to complete his sentence when you’re already nodding your head, knowing what he was about to ask. Unconsciously, Jake let out a loud sigh of relief. He thought that someone was about to sweep you off your feet.
Well, even if Sunoo did, he knows he will make sure to bring you back into his arms one way or another.
Jake looks at you who is now smiling innocently at him.
Fuck, how can she look so adorable.
Refused to back down, he clears his throat and pinch your nose lightly, making sure it won’t hurt you. You scrunch your nose at him. You were about to pinch his cheek as a revenge, but he managed to stop your hand.
He then leans his face close to yours.
“But I still don’t like how you left and hug him in front of me. Don’t do that again, alright.”
Your lips form a pout, but you nod obediently at his words. Of course, you should know that no matter how close you are with your guy friends, you must remember that you have a husband to take care of.
“Okay. I’m sorry for leaving you and hug him like that.”
Jake’s lips curl up into a smile, hearing your apologies. He takes your hand that was in his earlier and kiss it lovingly. Your eyes turn to the other side, an attempt to hide away your shyness. Jake just chuckles lightly at your actions before planting another kiss on top of your head.
“Shall we get going now?”
—
Two months later, you and Jake are attending the company’s annual gala night. However, this gala night is special because it is also the night that Mr. Sim, your father-in-law, will pass down the responsibilities as CEO to his son.
Although you are excited for Jake, you can’t seem to throw away the thoughts that your marriage will come to an end. Yes, both you and Jake are happy with each other. Happier than you had been in your life. But it still doesn’t change the fact that he got married to you just so he could gain the title as his dad’s successor.
A tap on your shoulder wakes you up from your thoughts. You look to your side, just to see your husband tilting his head slightly.
“What is this? Are you thinking about other man than me?”
He squints his eyes at you like how he would usually do. You hiss at him and hit his shoulder lightly.
“Why should I think about other people, when my husband is with me?”
You wrap your arm around his as your other hand rub against the spot that you hit earlier gently. Jake smiles softly at you before pecking your forehead softly, making sure not to ruin your make up and hairdo.
You and Jake continue to greet the guests. From time to time, you would join in their conversation but mostly you let Jake do the talking.
Suddenly, the hall light shuts down and a spotlight shine at the centre of the stage. There, stand Mr. Sim on the podium, getting ready to deliver his speech. Everyone’s attention diverts to the man.
He clears his throat and run his eyes across the hall.
“Good evening to everyone. I would like to thank all of you for your time tonight. I believe we already know the purpose of tonight considering that we did this every year.”
Everyone including you laugh at Mr. Sim’s greetings.
“As mentioned, we held the gala night annually without fail. Personally, it’s a way for me to appreciate everyone’s effort in making this business grow bigger each year.”
The hall is filled with claps.
“But tonight is different than before. Unlike the previous gala night, we are not only here to have fun. It is also the night where I will make an important announcement that will change the company into a better one.”
You look to your side, just to see that Jake is fidgeting and gulping nervously. You smile to yourself before leaning to his ear.
“You will be fine, Jake. I’m here with you.”
Jake turns to look at you, who is already smiling at him. Just like that, he can feel his anxiousness slowly tone down. It’s funny how before this Jake is so opposed to getting married just for the title.
Now, he understands why his dad said what he said to him before. True to his words, behind every successful man, there’s his wife. Jake never thought that he will see the day where there’s a woman behind him.
But with you supporting him directly, he believes that he can go through all the challenges and difficulties that he will face in the future. No matter how hard it is, he’s willing to go through it as long as you are with him.
Just like that, from this moment, Jake vow to himself that he will never, ever, let you go.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Without further ado, I present to you, the Sim’s new successor, Sim Jaeyun.”
The sound of claps filled the hall once again for the night. A spotlight pointed to Jake. He looks around the hall with a proud smile and bow his head politely. Before he walks up the stage, he turns towards you and hold your hands. Without second thought, he brings your hands and place a long kiss against it, making everyone looks at both of you with awe.
You nudge your hand lightly against his lips, making him look up at your crimson red face.
“Faster go,” you mouthed at him. He grins widely at you and flash you a wink before letting go of your hands and walks up onto the stage.
You just watch the view in front of you with a proud smile. Your husband is hugging your father-in-law so tightly. He is so proud of his own son, just like how he is proud with Jake’s older brother when he saw how successful he had become.
“Congratulations Mrs. Sim for your achievement.”
A voice said beside you, making your head turn to the owner. Turns out the owner of the voice belongs to Sunghoon as he stands next to you.
“You must be so proud of him.”
Another voice said on your other side, and you know it belongs to Jay. You just shake your head lightly at both of their remarks.
“Of course I’m proud of him. But I didn’t do anything for you to congratulate me.”
Jay looks at you for a short while before turning back to the stage. Both of his hands are in his pocket as he watches Jake giving his thank you speech.
“No, you deserve the wish as well. In fact, we must thank you for everything that you’ve done for Jake.”
You frown slightly at Jay’s words. You don’t quite understand what he meant by that. But, as you were about to ask, Sunghoon cut you off.
“Yeah, he’s a better man now, because of you.”
Despite your confusion, both of the men’s words still manage to soften your heart. Before you know it, tears escaped your cheeks. That was the nicest thing someone has ever tell you. You didn’t know that you needed until tonight.
Being recognized by Jake’s best friend just hit a certain spot in you. You made a mental note to ask about it later. But for now, you decide to focus on the man’s speech.
“… And to my wife, know that I will not be able to do this without you. You have been nothing but my strength and my support. You were there through ups and downs. I thank you so much. You are my woman and will always be my woman.”
Everyone howls at Jake’s words and the two men besides you whistle proudly. You just shake your head while letting out a chuckle and clap your hands. Jake is so silly. Your husband is so silly – and you will never ask for anything better than this.
After the end of the speech, you and Jake continue to talk to the guests with his arm circling around your waist the entire time. They all congratulate both of you for Jake’s achievements in becoming the new CEO. It is safe to say that the night went smoothly.
But nothing in this world is perfect, right?
“Congratulations, Jake.”
There, standing in front of you, a beautiful, mesmerizing woman in a gorgeous emerald green dress. She looks so breathtakingly beautiful to the point that your jaw drops slightly at her presence.
Unlike you, Jake’s smile falls upon seeing her. He clenches his jaw and tighten his grips against your waist. He forgot that her parents were invited to the gala by his dad. So naturally, she would be here as well.
“Thanks, Yunjin.”
The woman’s smile widens at the way Jake called her name. Her eyes then shift to you, who is still lost in her beauty. Yunjin let out a chuckle.
“Hi, my name is Yunjin, Jake’s friend.”
Bullshit, he thought.
You blink your eyes for a few seconds, trying to wake up from your own daze.
“Ah, I see. I’m y/n, Jake’s wife. He never mentions that he has such a beautiful friend as you.”
Yunjin looks at Jake for a few moments before letting out another chuckle. Her cheeks are now a bit red from your compliment.
Her laugh also sounds beautiful like her, you thought to yourself.
“Please don't say that. You are more beautiful, y/n. Besides, it’s been so long since we last met each other as well,” she said before her eyes fall upon Jake once again for the night, just to see that Jake is already looking at her.
Your eyes turn to look at Jake and Yunjin back and forth. Jake is staring at her with an expression that you don’t quite understand, while Yunjin is looking at him softly, exactly like a woman missing her partner.
That’s when it clicked in your head. You’ve heard that Jake had a girlfriend the first day you joined the company. If your guess is right, Yunjin is his ex-girlfriend. Saying that she is just a friend is a way of her being considerate of your feelings.
You don’t know what happened, but deep inside, you know that there are some unfinished businesses. You felt it through the tension that is slowly building up between them. Not even the sharpest knife can cut through it.
Before you know it, your gaze drops to the floor. Clearly, you are upset with the situation. But who are you to say anything. They had their own past. It was all just an old story. It was his past.
That’s what you keep telling yourself.
“Well, I better get going. You guys must have a lot of things to do.”
Yunjin’s words manage to pull you into reality.
“See you around, y/n.”
You try your best to smile sincerely, doing your best to show that none of these are affecting you.
“See you around, Yunjin.”
With the same previous smile on her face, she nods her head at you before once again turning to face Jake.
“Jake.”
She called out his name, but the only thing he did was nods his head towards her as his eyes turns somewhere else, refusing to meet her eyes.
Yunjin then walks away from you. You didn’t know how long it had been but the sigh that you let out indicating that you’ve been holding your breath for quite a while now. Your heart beats so loud as if it’s about to jump out of your body.
You swallow your saliva to calm yourself down before excusing yourself from your husband, saying that you need to go to the washroom.
Just like that, Jake is left alone in the middle of the hall. He frowns at the situation. Fuck, he said to himself. He should have handled it better.
Jake knows that you are upset. Going to the washroom was just a way for you to walk away from the previous commotion. As if meeting his ex-girlfriend is not the worse part of the night, his best friend came to him, probably to lecture him.
“What happened, Jake,” the older one asked.
Jake bites his lower lips.
“She came and greet us…”
“And?” Sunghoon encouraged Jake to continue his words.
“And I didn’t know how to react to it. I thought that if I said something, I might… I might…”
I might lose control and y/n might hate me for it, Jake continued inside his mind.
Jay drapes his arm around Jake’s shoulder, pulling him into a side hug in hopes it can at least comfort him after what just happened.
The guys know that it’s not easy for Jake to communicate with his ex, considering that they had a good time together just for it to end all of a sudden. But they can’t also invalid your feelings.
As a wife, they knew you must have figured out that they had something going on back then. It’s understandable that you would be upset over it even though it already ended long time ago.
“I don’t know what’s going on between you and Yunjin, but I want you to remember that you have y/n now. One thing I can see from her is that she’s loyal and sincere. She’s a woman, your wife. Whatever you want to do, consider her feelings as well.”
Jake nods his head at Sunghoon’s words. He inhales deeply and exhale, trying to calm himself down. He puffs out his cheeks as he collects his inner thoughts.
“Do you think I can be a good husband to y/n?”
Jay and Sunghoon steal a glance to each other before their lips curl up into a smirk.
“It’s up to you, man. But I think you have always been waiting for her. Ever since high school, you’ve wait for her. Now that she’s in front of you, why not grab your chance?”
Jake looks up at Jay as the older one encouraged him to move forward. Jay nods his head at Jake.
“And a little birdie told me that she is also waiting for you at the balcony just outside of the hall,” Sunghoon said as he pointed the place with his face to Jake.
Jake scoffs at himself. He can’t believe he is down bad for you. The fact that his best friends had been his witnesses made him feel even more dumb than he already is. He then pulls both Jay and Sunghoon into a hug.
They hug the man back and their hug last for quite a while. It was at this moment that reminds Jake once again just how important Sunghoon and Jay are in his life. His ride or die. The one who would be there to give him facts, no matter how hurtful it is. The one who would give motivations for him whenever he needs it. And he would gladly do the same to them as well.
Jake let go of his friends. With a deep breath, he walks towards the balcony where you are leaning against railing.
Although your back is facing him, he can’t deny the fact that you look glowing in your white dress. The way your head tilted slightly to the sky, allowing the moon to shine its light to you. You look better than his dreams.
With careful steps, he walks towards you.
“What are you thinking, princess?”
You turn your head slightly at the voice, before facing forwards again.
“Nothing important.”
“Then, why do you look like a damsel in distress, my lady?”
The closeness of his voice startled you. You didn’t realize when it happened, but his arms are already on your side, trapping you against the balcony. Slowly, you turn your back towards him. Your eyes move from down and up to his face.
You’ve always thought Jake as a handsome man. But right now, he looks even better than before. His face is so close that you can see the length of his eyelashes. His nose that would occasionally bump into your head and cheeks as he leaves pecks here and there. His lips… the same lips that would kiss you everywhere but your lips.
The last time you felt it against yours was when you were pronounced as husband and wife. It was a short one, but you can still feel it tingling against yours. You would do anything just to feel that lips once again.
However, you know you can’t. Not when he was about to divorce you right here, right now. Mustering your courage, you look into his eyes. Although your tears are threatening to escape, you’re trying your best to hold it in by burying your nails into your hand.
“Jake, congratulations. You’re finally where you want to be now. You’ve been working so hard to prove that you’re worth it. Now, you got it.”
Jake’s eyes soften at your words and his grip weakens. You sniff before continuing your words.
“Thank you for being a husband for me. A real one at that. I didn’t know anyone would do anything for me aside from my parents. There is not a single moment where I regret having you as my husband. Thank you for everything that you did for me. I will cherish all the memories until the end of my life.”
As you finished your sentence, the tears that you’ve been holding back finally roll down your cheeks. You have said everything that you want to say. Whatever happens after this, you will accept it with all your heart. When Jake decides to stop everything with you, you will have to be ready to let him go.
Jake’s hands move up to cup your face. You close your eyes at what about to happen.
Do it. I’ll be fine. I can take it.
You can feel his thumbs brushes your tears away, but then you feel his lips against your forehead. You open your eyes and look up at him, just to see him looking at you with a loving smile. His tears run down his cheeks, mirroring yours. Jake takes a deep breath. He then looks at you again with the same smile.
“Let’s end this.”
He said it. He finally said it. The words that you were waiting to hear from him. He said it. You thought that you could handle it, but your reaction proves you wrong.
You burst into crying in his hands. Every emotion that you’ve been holding back are showing itself. You are not okay. You will never be okay. Call you selfish, but you want to be with him always and forever. You need Jake, even if he didn’t need you.
Or so you thought.
“Let’s stop pretending, and love each other for real.”
His words managed to make you look at him with your eyes widened. The expression of your face clearly shows Jake that it was not what you expected to hear tonight. You thought that he would divorce you. After he got the position as CEO, he would put this to an end. That’s how it should be.
You try to breath properly. Looking at how difficult it is for you to calm down, he moves one of his hands and rubs your back while his other hand caressing your cheeks softly. Jake inhale and exhale along with you, in hopes for you to follow his breathing pattern.
When you’ve finally calm down, you blink your tears away from your eyes, trying to see Jake in a clear view.
“But you told me that you would end this marriage after you get the title.”
Jake looks at you for a few seconds before letting out a soft laugh. He didn’t miss the pout that is forming on your face, making you look like a little girl crying for her lollipop. He shakes his head.
“I may have implied that, and I’m so sorry.”
Your eyes never leave Jake as you wait for him to continue his words.
“I thought that whatever we had between us will merely be another fleeting moment. But the more I’m with you, the greedier I became. What started of as pretending, I want it to be real. All of the moments that I had with you was everything I could imagine. Hell, it was better than my imaginations. You made it so easy to be with you. To cherish you. To care for you. Before I knew it, I want you all to myself.”
Jake’s arm that was on your back quickly circles your waist, pulling you close to his body. Slowly, he leans to your face, just enough for his lips to brush against yours.
“You are my lady. You are my woman. You are my wife. You are mine, and I’m not letting you go, ever.”
You gasp at his words. You can’t think straight after what you just heard. Who knows a guy like Jake can also be this romantic towards someone. Even more towards you. You, who just happened to study in the same school and work in the same place as he is. There are thousands of women he could go for, and yet he chose to settle down with you. At this point, you can die happily.
“So, what do you say, Mrs. Sim? Are you in for it, or you want to run away? But just so you know, I will chase you to the end of the world if you choose the latter.”
Your eyes search for his, just to see that he’s already gazing at you with sincerity, passion, and a hint of something you’ve never seen before. The guy that you’ve been watching and only watching are in front of you with his arm clinging onto your waist protectively.
You know that if you try to say anything, your voice will betray you. So, you opt for the easier choice – nodding your head, indicating that you’re saying yes to him.
The corner of Jake’s lips curls up into a small smirk before he claims your lips with his. After holding back for so long, he finally has you in his arms as his one and only. Good things always come to those who wait. Jake might have to study more about the philosophies considering that it had been proven real to him.
The kiss that both of you shares are filled with a lot of passion and affections. All the restrains that you and Jake put onto yourself are now broken. His hands are now rubbing on your side as he turns his head to the other side, deepening the kiss. You let Jake lead the kiss as you circle your arms around his neck to prevent you from falling.
You are not surprised that his kiss will make you weak at your knees. You have always known he would be a good kisser. But you didn’t expect that he will kiss you as if his life depends on it.
A moan escapes from you when Jake purposely bites your lower lips. Both of you pull away slightly to take a breath. Looking at Jake’s expression, you finally understand the meaning behind his gaze earlier.
As for Jake, he is staring at you. You look more beautiful than you already are with your lips slightly swollen because of him – and he takes pride in it. He was planning to tease you when he bit you earlier. He didn’t know that you would make a sound that could awakened something in him. He knew that he won’t be able to take it if he didn’t control himself, so he put your kiss into a halt.
Jake brushes his nose gently against yours, making you look up to him. His hand moves up to caress your cheek once again.
“All the time spent of me looking at you from afar back in school, I knew it’s going to be worth it.”
Your cheeks turn bright red at his words, but it didn’t fail to make you frown in confusion.
“Looking at me? You were looking at me the whole time?! I thought I was the one doing that to you?”
Jake chuckles at your words before placing a soft peck against your nose.
“You weren’t the only one who have great eyes.”
He winks at you, making you laugh along with him. You didn’t know that he was doing the same thing that you did to him. Maybe you are fated for him, just like he thought when he met you for the first time.
“I love you, Mrs. Sim Y/n.”
“I love you too, Mr. Sim Jaeyun.”
Both of you stay in silent, just admiring each other before Jake decided to break it.
“So, shall we go and continue this somewhere else? I don’t think I can hold myself longer.”
Your jaw dropped at his words before hitting his chest. He winces in pain and rubs the spot before turning to you and steals a kiss on your lips. He then picks you up bridal style and bring you back home, where you will be spending time with him all night long, skin-to-skin.
—
It had been months since Jake was announced as the new CEO of the infamous Sim’s company. The business starts to grow even more. A lot of international clients are interested to work alongside with Jake. He is compatible, responsible, and most importantly, he knows what he wants, and he knows he will get it.
But of course, you were there with him the whole time. Ever since you and Jake confessed to each other, both of you are becoming more and more clingy and loving towards each other. Nevertheless, you know the difference between professionalism and personal, considering that you are now working as your husband’s secretary.
You tried to deny his offer a lot of times before, saying that it will be a talk of the office if she becomes his secretary. But knowing Jake, he wants to make sure that you are with him all the time. Well, he wishes for you to be with him every time.
Until he has a business trip to attend to.
“Are you sure you don’t want to follow me? You can rest there,” Jake tried to persuade you for the nth times to follow him to the trip. His lips keep on placing kisses to yours with his arms around your waist, an attempt to melt your down.
“But you will be working, my love. I don’t want to go anywhere without you. It will feel incomplete without you by my side.”
Jake groans softly at your words, but he can’t deny it as well. You are telling the truth. He will be working all day and will only come back at night. If he were at your shoes, he would refuse to go as well. What’s the point of going on a trip with your spouse if you can’t spend time together properly.
But it doesn’t change the fact that Jake is still sad, thinking about not having you with him for three days straight. Naturally, a pout forms on his face, showing that he’s still upset.
You let out a soft sigh as you look at your husband. You then stand on your toe and kiss his pout away.
“Let’s put it this way – the sooner you take off, the sooner you will be back with me. Does that sound better to you?”
Jake just nods his head obediently, once again resembling a puppy. He then pulls you into a tight hug.
“I love you, Mrs. Sim. Remember that, okay?”
The corner of your lips curls up into a smile as your rub your husband’s back up and down.
“I love you too, Mr. Sim. Always and forever.”
Both of you let go of each other, yet your hands are still intertwined with one another. The sight makes you chuckle a bit.
“You need to go. Don’t want you to miss the flight.”
Jake nods his head once again. After leaving kisses on your head, down to your forehead, eyes, nose and lips, he finally walks into the gate, waving his hand at you. You wave back to him with a reassuring smile on your face.
Once he is gone from your sight, you start to miss his presence. This is the first time you had to separate with him ever since your marriage. He was always there with you, whether to comfort you, love you, or even annoy the hell out of you.
But as his wife, you know he needs your full support for him to move forward and bringing you along with him on this journey. You need to be in your optimum energy to help him achieve his dreams.
That is why you are currently in the bakery nearby your house. You can’t be energetic if you are hungry. You were scanning through all of the options when someone called your name from behind.
“Y/n?”
You turn to the owner of the voice, just to see Yunjin, looking effortlessly beautiful like she always does.
“I never thought I would bump into you here. Are you alone?”
Her question bothers you a bit, not going to lie. But you remind yourself that it was all in the past. Jake is yours, and only yours.
With a genuine smile, you look up at her. “Yeah. Jake is on a trip for a few days. I’m just running a quick errand.”
Yunjin nods her head at you. Her eyes soften at the sight of you.
“Jake is so lucky to have a wife like you. So beautiful yet so diligent.”
You look down at Yunjin’s sudden compliments. Your cheeks are slowly turning into crimson red. It makes it impossible for Yunjin not to find you adorable.
“Ah, how about we hang out whenever we have time. Here’s my number.”
Yunjin holds out her business card. You look at it. Huh Yunjin, the owner of YJ Fashion House. You knew Yunjin is an amazing woman, and her status just increase her level in your head. You take the card and keep it safely in your bag.
“Sure. Thank you for the offer Yunjin.”
She just nods her head to you. As you were about to bid her goodbye, she put you into a halt.
“Oh also, can we take a picture together? I’ve been dying to have one with you ever since we met that day.”
Your eyes twinkles at the thought of a brilliant woman such as Yunjin, wanting to take pictures with you, who are just merely a secretary to your husband. You then nod your head at her, giving her your approval.
She grins widely, showing how happy she is. Using her phone, she flips the camera so that you and Yunjin can take a few selfies.
“I will send the pictures to you later. It was nice meeting you again, y/n.”
“It was nice meeting you as well, Yunjin.”
Just like that, both of you part your ways to your own destinations, not knowing that a storm will be coming your way soon.
—
After three full days of dealing with works, Jake finally returns to your arms during the weekends. At first, Jake insists to bring you out. But you don’t want him to force himself as he needs rest.
So, during the weekends, you decided to just stay inside and pamper Jake to the fullest. Of course, being the clingy needy husband he is, he don't mind it at all. For two days straight you pay attention to him and only him, and he did the same to you.
No talking about work. Just small talks from time to time. Most of the time though you spend your time with Jake snuggling and cuddling you. You love the fact that he is not afraid to show his vulnerable side to you. He may look like he got it together in front of people, but with you, he’s still a kid stuck in a grown-up body.
But of course, that doesn’t last longer. There are times when he wants more than just be close to you – and he did just that. You don’t know how you can handle it considering that his drives are quite high.
Just like that, the weekends passed by quickly and you are back to being his secretary once again. As usual, you would inform his schedule and relay messages that you received on behalf of Jake while he was away. The files that are in need of his actions had been laid out neatly on his table.
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Sim?” You asked after you’ve finished conveying everything that he needs to know.
Jake hums softly. “Can you tell Mrs. Sim that she looks ravishing today?”
You roll your eyes at his remarks as he flashes an innocent smile at you.
“I will let her know, Mr. Sim. If there’s nothing, I will make my way.”
You bow your head respectfully before sending him a playful wink and walk out of his office.
Jake being Jake decides to follow you – specifically your butt – with his eyes until you are out of his sight. This have happened countless times before. If he ignores the professionalism between both of you, he knows he would have you in his office any time he wanted.
Without wasting any more time, Jake’s hands move across the files and papers on his tray. He lets out a soft sigh looking at the amount of works that he needs to review. Well, he did ask for it so he can’t say anything about it.
But what really catches his attention is a brown envelope, sealed perfectly. The only thing written on the envelope is Jake’s name. He takes the envelope and turn it. There, he could see the word ‘private and confidential’.
He tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t recall any agreements that he needs to sign that is confidential. With a shrug of his shoulder, he unseals the envelope. He inserts his hand into it and take out what seems to be pictures.
His curiosity changed into anger as fast as lightning at the view in front of him. His eyes are brimming with tears, threaten to fall. With shaking hands, he pressed the intercom and called you into his office.
He doesn’t sound good. You’ve known him long enough to know that he is upset just by his voice through the speaker. Without a second thought, you knock on his door and enter his office when he approves of you.
You look at his state with a frown. His face is hidden behind his arms that was connected as he clasps his hand together. If you could make a guess, you would say that he looks miserable. You were about to ask him, but he decided to speak up first.
“What were you doing when I wasn’t around?”
Your frown grows deeper at his question.
“I was at the office in the morning and went back home in the evening. I didn’t go anywhere except for grocery stores to buy a few stuffs for our home.”
Jake scoffs at your last two words. Our home.
“Our home, where you were fucking someone else in our bed?”
Your jaws dropped at his words. This is unfair. Did he really think that low of you? That you would simply having fun with other guys when he’s not around? This is ridiculous.
One thing you can’t stand is when people falsely blaming you on something that you didn’t do. Slowly, you can feel yourself getting fired up.
"You, out of people, accused me of cheating on you?"
Jake lifts his head up to look at you. His eyes are red from all the crying that he did before you stepped into the office.
"Well, explain these then?"
Jake threw the pictures in his hands on the table. You bend down to get a better view of it. In those pictures, it was you and a man, tangled to one another in various positions.
Your eyes widened at the images in front of you. You knew it wasn't you. Although it was your face in there, but you didn't do all of that. You would never betray the trust of the man in front of you. You didn’t even think of betraying him in the first place.
But how, how can the woman in the picture looks a lot like you, when you know you have never slept with any man other than him.
"I don't know about this Jake, but I swear I have never done all of these. Please, believe me."
Your eyes are glistening with tears as you look at him, begging for him to trust you.
But you know it was no use. The way he looks at you is no longer like how he used to. It was filled with love and affection ever since the day both of you said, 'I do'.
Now, it was as if whatever he felt for you has vanished. The only emotion that he could feel is numbness and emptiness. He thought that you would be different than others. Turns out you're just the same.
You're just another woman, staying by his side just for the benefits.
Without saying anything, Jake grabs his blazer and walks out of the office, leaving you standing in the room, crying your heart out.
This isn't what you imagined how it's going to be. You thought everything would be fine the moment Jake kissed you that day. That you would finally experience your first and true love.
You didn't expect for all of these to happen. Your mind suddenly drifts off to the night of the gala. Were you and Jake not supposed to have your happy ending? If only one of you end this marriage like how it should, would any of this still happened?
Right, this all happened because of you. You selfishly want to be in this marriage despite knowing that it has to come to an end. You have no one to blame but yourself.
You thought that you finally had him for yourself. The man that you have always been attracted to. The man that never fails to make your heart feels full. You were stupid enough to believe that.
As you are left alone in the office, you thought to yourself, ‘I should’ve let my fairytale remain as a fairytale'.
—
“Huh, it’s surprising to see that you are not drunk. Guess you really changed.”
Jay’s disclaimer receives a glare from Jake. His expression clearly shows that he is not in the mood for jokes or anything stupid.
“And what do you mean by that?”
“When you broke up last time, you almost got into a fight with me,” Sunghoon answered on behalf of Jay.
Jake turns to Sunghoon before letting out a scoff.
“In my defence, you started it.”
Sunghoon raise one of his brows. He decides to ignore the remarks to avoid any arguments... again. He raises his glass to his lips and drink from it.
“So, what is it this time?”
Jake sigh at Jay’s question. He contemplates whether to tell his friends the truth or not. His friends on the other hand, knows him too well.
Despite getting hurt or betrayed, Jake had always been selective in giving out details about his personal life. For him, it’s supposed to be kept in minimal. Whatever happened inside the house, stays inside the house.
As much as his friends respect him for that, sometimes they wish that Jake could open up just a bit, so that they can help him in any way they feel necessary.
“Let’s just say that our marriage is getting too... crowded.”
Jay and Sunghoon look at each other. It wasn’t that direct, but it’s not indirect either. Everyone has their own interpretation. In this case, Jake seems to imply that there is a third party involved in their relationship.
However, Jay and Sunghoon found it hard to believe because you don’t look like someone who would go out there and cheat on a man that truly love you for who you are. But then, they might be wrong as well.
“Are you sure y/n would do that to you?”
Jake shrugs his shoulders at Jake’s question. He lifts his glass to his lips and gulp down the remaining liquid.
“As much as I would like to deny it, I’m not sure if I can do that with the evidence that I have.”
Sunghoon nods his head in understanding manner. He then pats Jake’s shoulder and flash him a small smile.
“You do what you got to do man. We’ll be here for you, always.”
Jake replies Sunghoon with a smile. He’s truly blessed for having such understanding best friends. He might not be lucky in love, but he knows he won lottery with friendship. So, it’s okay.
He’s going to be okay.
He’s going to be okay.
I'm going to be okay.
When Jake enters the dark room, suddenly everything feels empty. It feels like his life is crumbling down again. The thought that he kept repeating like a mantra before vanished just like that.
He knows he can’t possibly go back home. Not with his current state. He needs to get away from all of these. He wants to forget about everything.
Unconsciously, he walks towards his office desk. The pictures were still scattered like how he left them earlier. The pictures are enough to ignite his anger. He has never felt so deeply disappointed in someone before.
He thought that he knows you enough to not be suspicious of you. But he never knew that you’re just another wolf in sheep’s skin.
Jake picks up one of the pictures. If only he could get hold onto the man in the picture, he knew he would beat him up until no one could recognize him ever again.
Maybe he should’ve ended their relationship according to the original plan. Jake sighs to himself. He has no one to blame but himself. He trusts you too easily. In the end, he is the one who got fooled.
He examines the picture one last time for the night as he’s thinking of a solution to all of this.
When he finally found an answer, the corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. Bingo.
—
Hundreds of calls, thousands of messages, and you still haven’t heard anything from Jake.
You know that he needs some time to calm down. Yet you can’t help but to feel worried for him. The least you want to know is where would he spend the night and if he’s eaten anything.
But there is nothing you can do. You must let him be for the night. To be fair, no one would be okay if out of nowhere there’s a picture of your partner being intimate with another person – let alone tons of pictures of it.
Your tears had dried down from all the crying that you did earlier. As soon as Jake stormed out of the office, you made the decision to empty out his schedule for the day, claiming that he was on sick leave.
As for you, you requested to take a week leave and informed Mr. Sim – your father-in-law – about it. You didn’t say for what but by the look on your face, he could guess there is something going on between you and Jake.
“Things are bound to happen. Take a break. I promise you it will be fine. Sooner or later, it will get better.”
You smile at his words. You are not sure if you and Jake will ever be fine after the incident but at least your father-in-law's words managed to bring up your spirit.
As much as you are still upset about everything, you want to get everything right. You will make it right again.
You are sitting on the couch in the living room with a picture in your hand. You managed to steal one of it from the pile in Jake’s office earlier.
Biting your lower lips, you lift the picture to your face so you can see it more clearly. That’s when you notice something different about the picture.
Without second thought, you grab your phone and dial a number. After a few rings, the receiver picks up the phone.
“Hey, can we meet up tomorrow?”
—
“So, what do you think?”
Sunoo hums to himself and look at you. He hands the picture that you gave earlier.
“You’re right. It’s edited. Most probably AI.”
You tilt your head in confusion.
“AI?”
“Artificial Intelligence. It was programmed to help human in various ways – workforce, study, music – you name it.”
You nod your head before a frown form on your face.
“But what does that have to do with my case?”
Sunoo smirks to himself. He pulls out his phone and type something on his phone before showing you a picture. You take his phone and identify it. You don’t know why but the picture looks very familiar to you. It was as if you have been there.
That’s when it clicks in your head. You look at the person’s face closer and you see that the person resembles Sunoo but he’s wearing the outfit that you used to wear back in college.
“Isn’t this my picture? Why does this look like you?”
Sunoo smiles at your reaction.
“That’s also an AI. I just chose a picture of my face and replaced it with yours. It didn’t copy my face 100% but the resemblance is there.”
His smile fades away as he leans forward to you.
“The same thing with your case. Whoever edited it must have your picture as well. Yes, AI can be helpful to us. But some people use it for other purposes – framing, blackmailing, humiliation. At the end of the day, it depends on the person’s intention.”
You think to yourself, trying to figure out the possible suspect. As far as you know, none of the people in your circle is suspicious considering. There’s only Sunoo, few of your college friends, and-
Your eyes widen at the realization. You look up at Sunoo.
“It couldn’t be…”
—
“Jake!”
Jake turns his head towards the owner of the voice. There, stand his ex-girlfriend, looking like how she normally would.
“It’s been a long time since we last talk to each other, right,” she said before inviting herself to sit across him.
Jake didn’t do anything except following her movements with his eyes.
“So, what’s the sudden occasion? I thought you blocked me already.”
He let out a soft chuckle at Yunjin’s remarks before shaking his head and flashing her a small smile.
“Nothing. Just thought that it would be nice to meet you again.”
Yunjin bites her lower lips, holding back herself from smiling too widely at the possibility of Jake missing her like how she missed him.
“Don’t say it like that. If your wife heard you, she would think that we had something going on.”
Jake’s face fell at the mention of his wife, and Yunjin didn’t miss that. Her expression changed to worry when she saw Jake frowns his brows.
“Hey, did anything happen?”
Jake swallows his saliva, a bit too loud for her liking. He then shakes his head, trying to not make Yunjin ask further questions about it.
She sighs softly at Jake. He’s always so nice. Yunjin was used to this side of Jake. Just like his friends, she too knows that Jake isn’t someone who would simply talk about his life to anyone.
But looking at his state now, Yunjin wishes nothing but for Jake to at least share a bit of the burden with her. She wishes that she can take care of him, like how she used to back then.
Yunjin reaches her hand to Jake’s on the table, making the guy lifts his face to look at her. She flashes him a soft smile as she caresses his hand.
“Don’t worry. I’m here for you, Jake. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
Jake looks down at her hand. Without thinking, he holds her hand and bring it close to his face.
Yunjin was stunned at the sudden gesture. She could feel his breath against her skin. Oh, how she missed it. She missed Jake so much. She missed being loved by him. She missed loving him as well. If only he knows that she would do anything to have him back.
“I thought you don’t like tattoo.”
Jake’s remarks pull Yunjin out from her daydream. Her eyes then fall onto her inner forefinger where she planted her tattoo. Her lips curl into a soft smile.
“I got it after we broke up. I was devastated so I did it.”
Jake nods his head and flashes her a smile before his eyes fall back onto the tattoo.
Both of them stay in silent, with Jake still gazing at her tattoo. She thought that it was cute how Jake never seems to take his eyes from it. Not to mention her pride when he notices the small details about her – just like when they used to be together before.
Before Yunjin could stop herself, she confessed to Jake.
“I miss you, Jake. I always have.”
—
It was raining heavily outside. Today, marks the third day of Jake not coming back home. You’ve tried to reach him, but it seems like he has blocked you.
You asked Jay and Sunghoon about Jake, yet the only thing that they could say was to give him space and time. Speaking of loyal friends, huh.
You miss Jake a lot. You miss Jake so much to the point that you still cooked for him, even though the chance of him coming back home to you is thin. Aside from meeting Sunoo, you didn’t go anywhere else.
You only wait for Jake, day and night, without fail. You didn’t bother to sleep in the bedroom anymore. You just stay in the living room, wanting to greet him whenever he chooses to come back home.
Turns out, your effort does not go in vain.
As the clock strikes 12 midnight, Jake opens the door and enter the house. He takes off his shoes and put it in the cupboard.
“Welcome home, Jake.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he chooses to ignore you and walk up the stairs. You stand up from the couch and call his name, stopping him on his track.
“Where were you?”
He stays silence.
“Have you eaten?”
Again, nothing.
“Did you meet Yunjin-“
“It’s none of your business.”
You look at Jake, whose back is facing you before letting out a scoff. Of course, he will only talk to you if you mention her name. The name that he can’t seem to let go. The name that used to be his sweetheart for four years.
Betrayal and hurt dominates your heart. The softness in you is now gone. You did not just wait in the house, waiting for him to come just to find out that he’s out there with his ex-girlfriend.
“I knew it. You can’t forget about her, right? After all these years, she’s still the one in your mind.”
Your eyes slowly tear up.
“I’m just the replacement. A woman you used to climb up to your title.”
That’s not it.
“A woman that you can use as your trophy.”
That’s not true.
“A woman that you will throw away once you’re done using her to fulfil your needs-”
“Enough!”
You gasp at the sudden scream from Jake. The head that were facing the opposite side is now looking straight at you. His hands form into fist, with his thumbs hiding against his palms. His lips tremble from the anger that build up in him.
It was wrong. It was all wrong. Whatever you said about yourself, it was wrong. Jake has never seen you as trophy. He never wants to take advantage of your kindness. He loved you with all his heart and soul.
The worst part is, he still does.
“Jake…”
Jake’s face softens at the sound of your voice calling his name for the second time tonight. He missed it. He missed you. A lot. He wants to be with you again like how it used to be. He wants to get pampered by you. He wants to give you all the loves and affections that you deserve.
But he can’t because he promised himself he will end it tomorrow.
“Do you still love her?”
His breath hitched at your question. His eyes move to look at you, just to see that your eyes are red from all the crying that you did for the past few days. The thought of you crying for him while he wasn’t around makes him sick.
He can’t help but blame himself for putting you in such situation. You didn’t deserve all of these. You deserve to be with a man that can make you happy and showers you with all the things the world could offer.
Not with a guy like him who will only make you sad and cry all the time. You shouldn’t be here. He didn’t deserve you at all.
Without any words, Jake turns his head back to the stairs. He continues to walk up the stairs and into the bedroom, leaving you standing in the living room with tears falling down your cheeks.
As soon as you hear the door closes, you fall on your knees to the floor. You’re tired. You’ve reached your limit. You don’t think you can keep up with this any longer.
Jake doesn’t care about you anymore. You’ve been worried sick about him. He didn’t come back home. He didn’t go to office either. Sunghoon and Jay also said that they didn’t know where he is.
But he doesn’t care. After all these times, the only thing that he spoke to you was in the form of anger.
You feel pity for yourself. You’re worthless. You can feel your body slowly fall on the ground, and you just let it happen.
Right at that moment, your eyes fall upon the ring at your hand. The sparkles are still there, as if it’s still new.
Will it still look the same if it was on her hand, or will it look better?
As your eyes close for the night, you thought to yourself, I will end it tomorrow.
It will end tomorrow.
—
“Did I make you wait too long?”
Yunjin was drinking from her cup before you appear in front of her. She put down her drink and shakes her head with a smile on her face.
“No, I don’t mind. I understand you must have business to attend to.”
Despite looking all innocent, you can sense the sarcasm behind her voice. Your eyebrows lift slightly in amusement.
Huh, so this is the real Yunjin.
You sit across Yunjin as she picks up her cup and drink from it again.
“So, what do you want to talk about?”
You pursue your lips at her. You think to yourself to decide the method that you want to go for.
After a few seconds, your hands move to unzip your bag to take out a picture of ‘you’ and the unknown man. Without hesitation, you place the picture on the table and slide it to her.
“I will cut to the chaste. That woman… it’s you. Am I right?”
Yunjin takes the picture in her hand before letting out a historical laugh, enough to get everyone’s attention.
Humiliation. That is how Yunjin wants to play.
“Are you blind? It’s your face in the picture. Not mine.”
You can hear people starts murmuring about the scene that is about to unfold in front of them. But you pay them no attention. You are determined to end everything today. Right here, right now.
“The face does belong to me. But not the body.”
Yunjin’s eyes twitch at your counter. You tilt your head to the side, studying her reaction.
“Look at it properly. That tattoo on the inner side of the finger; it matches yours, right?”
Her face fell when you mention about it. Yunjin bring the picture closer to her and scan the picture. That’s when she saw the tattoo.
How could she forget to remove it before printing it? How could she be so careless? The fact that you even know the tattoo belongs to her… How can it be possible? You’ve only met her twice. That’s not enough for anyone to actually notice something as small as this.
“I’ve always been good in observing people. It doesn’t take me long to notice your tattoo considering that it’s on the same hand that you shook mine with back at the gala night.”
Yunjin feels like a huge rock has hit her head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!
The whispers around you increase more and more as time passed by.
I can’t believe someone as beautiful as her can be so ugly deep inside.
So pathetic. Slept with a guy and blame others for it.
She’s nothing but a whore.
Yunjin’s lips tremble at the words thrown to her. This is not how she planned it to be. She wants to humiliate you, but it went to her instead. It doesn’t make sense. If only you didn’t marry Jake, none of this would happen and she would still be with him by his side.
She is supposed to hold the title of Mrs. Sim. She is much more worthy as his wife. But it all went down because of you.
However, she didn’t plan to give up. At least not today.
Yunjin gathers her composure before leaning her back against her chair.
“You could’ve purposely placed the tattoo in the picture. Isn’t it easier that way?”
With only those sentence, the people’s opinion suddenly changed.
Why can’t she leave the woman alone?
She must be hungry for attention. That’s why she purposely blames the other woman.
A woman who betrays its own kind should not be labelled as a woman at all.
The corner of Yunjin’s lips curl up into a smirk. People are easily manipulated. All you need to do is to say a few things and they will instantly believe you whether it’s real or fake.
She has won. The victory is hers.
Unfortunately for her, the success doesn’t last long. You knew she would say that which is why you’ve been keeping another strong evidence to prove that it’s not you in the picture.
As you reach inside your bag, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You look up at the owner of the hand. Your eyes widened at the sight of Jake.
You didn’t expect him to be here - so does Yunjin. He is not supposed to know you’re here. What is he even doing here? Did he make another appointment with Yunjin?
“You want another proof that it’s not her? Here, I bring the real guy from the picture.”
Jake said to Yunjin before moving to the side slightly, revealing a man named K standing behind him. Her eyes instantly widened at the sight of him. The exact same guy that she paid to frame you. The exact same guy that she slept with, just for the sake of destroying your marriage with Jake.
Yunjin shakes his head to herself.
“No. I don't know this guy. I didn’t do anything.”
“You slept with me, and you said you didn’t do it? Did you forgot that I also have the original picture?”
Yunjin’s eyes move to K, and she stood up from the chair.
“I paid you to keep quiet!”
K scoffs at her.
“No. You paid me to sleep with you. That’s it.”
Yunjin bites her lips before letting out a frustrated groan. She turns to Jake and tries to grab his hands, but Jake avoided her advanced towards him.
“Jake, I have a reason. I did all of this for you. I love you, Jake. I love you so much.”
You don’t like the view in front of you. As a woman, you feel pitiful towards Yunjin. One would never think a beauty such as herself would go low just for the sake of love. Refusing to witness how pathetic Yunjin is, you hug yourself and look to your side.
Jake on the other hand can read your body language. He knows you want to run away from the commotion. As your husband, he wants nothing more than fulfilling your wish and needs. So, he must end it now.
“Do you know why I broke up with you, Yunjin?”
Jake’s question makes Yunjin frown in confusion. Jake clears his throat, and his lips form a straight line.
“That day, I just got back from studying. When I walked into our room, I saw you sleeping soundly, with another guy next to you. I don’t need to know that you both are naked under the blanket considering that clothes were scattered on the floor. You claimed that you love me, but you still had the guts to cheat on me. That’s why I broke up with you...”
Jake turns to look at you for a few seconds before facing Yunjin once again.
“... That’s why I will never ever be with you.”
At that, Jake pulls you up and circles his arm around your waist, before bringing you out of the place, leaving Yunjin faced the humiliation that she created.
—
As soon as you enter the house, Jake closes the door behind you and bring you to sit down in the living room. He then excuses himself to the kitchen to get two glasses of water. He brings the waters to the living room and put it on the table before sitting down next to you.
Both of you stay in silence for a while. You puff your cheeks before grabbing the glass and drink the water.
“How did you know I was there?”
Jake clears his throat. Now, it’s his turn to drink the water before answering your question.
“I... followed you?”
You turn to face Jake, blinking your eyes at his words.
“Really? You followed me? Since when?”
Jake rubs the back of his neck and flashes you a sheepish smile.
“Well, that day when I stormed off from office, I came back later that night. When I wanted to throw away the pictures, I felt something was off. That’s when I realized that the face does resembles you, but not totally you. Not to mention the hint of tattoo on the finger...”
His hands move to hold your hand gently. He brings up your hand to his face before smiling to himself.
“...I’ve kissed this same hand countless times to know that you’ve never had tattoo, my love.”
All emotions come at you at the same time when he called you, my love. Tears brimming at your eyes as you suddenly recalled those nights without Jake in your arms. The way he raised his voice for the first time at you are still fresh in your mind, considering it just happened yesterday.
“You hurt me, Jake. You hurt me so much.”
Jake looks at your teary eyes before leaning his forehead against yours, making you burst into tears as soon as it touches. He had always known that you are a soft person, and you prove him right.
He knows that he has hurt you so bad. Although it was only a few days, the pain in your heart will still need time to heal. He won’t blame you for hating him or anything. He deserves it.
“I know baby, I know. I left you alone, crying to yourself for days. I am a bad husband, and I am sorry for the way I behave. I should’ve believed you because you are my wife. My wife will never cheat on me, and I should know better.”
You just nod your head, agreeing to his words as tears still flowing down your cheeks.
Jake’s hands move up to caress your arms to your shoulder and up to your face. His thumbs wipe away your tears, even though a lot are still threatening to fall.
“Please, forgive me. You can take as much time as you need, but please, don’t leave me, y/n. I want no one but you to be my wife. You are the only one for me. No one can change that.”
You open your eyes to look at Jake, just to find out that he is quietly sobbing. You can’t believe that there will be a day where Jake would cry in front of you. It just shows that he truly cares for you and whatever he said earlier is nothing but the truth.
Although a part of you is still upset with him, you can’t deny that your heart yearns to love and be loved by him. Just like him, you can’t imagine any other man as your lover, let alone your husband. You want him, and only him.
Your hand reaches up to cup his face, his eyes are now looking into yours. You could feel his breath against your skin, and that’s enough to tell you that he’s in front of you.
Without wasting time, you lean to Jake, pressing your lips against his, in which he responds with open heart. Both of you could taste each other’s tears, but you don’t care.
You and Jake have been spending time away from each other for too long ever since you got married to him. All the pent-up emotion and frustration can be felt with the way you and Jake can’t seem to let go of one another.
Suddenly, everything feels right all over again. The pieces that were scattered are now together once again. Your life had always been normal. But somehow, being together with Jake makes your life more colourful than it already is.
Deep in the heart, you and Jake promise to not leave one another anymore for both of you can’t live without each other. Jake needs you as much as you need Jake. No one in the world can ever change that.
As you are lost in Jake’s arms, you thank the universe for shaping you into Jake’s one and only, Mrs. Sim, forever.
「pairing」 : childhoodbestfriend!jake x afab!reader
「synopsis」 : read the preview here
「word count」 : 15.3k
「genre」 : A lot of angst, smut, somewhat fluff, college au
「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! cursing, lot of nicknames, mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, hangover, poor mental state, kissing, cuddling, alcoholism, toxic friends (not jake), teasing, crying, begging, distress, groping (consentual), unprotected sex, pulling out, loss of virginity, lowkey size kink, oral (m and f recieving), titty sucking, sharing a bath tub, mentions of hospitalizations, implications of potential death, depression. this is a repost
「authors note」 : i want to thank everyone for motivating me to finish this story and writing this was truly an experience that will effect me as a writer moving forward. i am tagging all of my mutuals so hopefully i could get some feed back! i love every last one of you
It was the summer before me and Jake’s junior year of university. We have been working all summer and it’s another other day at the office. Putting in check information for the bank was a lot more boring than I expected . Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. There was no time to do anything else. We were always told that if we went to college, we would have a good job. That proved to be wrong.
Both Jake and I are going through college together, though he landed a way better paying job than I did. When it comes to bills, he ends up having to pay more than me, but he swears up and down that it is not a big deal.
I set down my mug. I hear my phone ring. It’s Jake. “Hello?” he should be at work. “Hey Pumpkin, I got out early today, were there any groceries that we needed?”
“Oh, no I can’t think of anything.”
“Okay, Stay safe, I will see you later.”
Jake never really got time off of work but when he did, I usually tried to stay out of his hair and let him relax. I just continued to run reports, pretty much twiddling my thumbs until the clock struck 5 and I would make my way out of this hell hole.
Traffic was terrible as usual. A usually 7 minute drive turned into an hour. Days like this I just want to get home and throw all my stuff on the ground and lock myself away in my room. Maybe watch some TV. Or listen to some music while my computer is hooked up to it. Anything that distracts from knowing I have to go back to the job I hate the next day. My thoughts are interrupted by a honk coming from behind me. The light turns green. Thank God. But as soon as I pull away from the curb, a car pulls out in front of me. Damn those stupid drivers. I don’t even know how many times this month I’ve had to pull over so they could let someone pass. It isn’t worth getting into a fight with them about. I try to ignore them.
I made it back to our house just in time for the sun to still be out. I made way into the house and Jake was in the kitchen. It was an unusual sight. His after work routine typically consists of cracking open a cold one and playing his computer. “Hey princess” he greeted me.
I stand at the front door, taking off my shoes and hanging my keys on the rack. “What has you in a good mood all of a sudden” I ask suspiciously.
“Well since I got off work early, I figured i’d come home and suprise you with dinner since you just been eating so much take out recently” he replied nonchalantly. The thought makes me sick. “You didn’t need to do that Jake.”
“Oh yes, I did. You haven’t been cooking for yourself for a couple months now. I wanted to show you how much your best friend cares about you” he says.
Reguardless of what I say, the food is made and there is no taking it back. I guess I can’t really argue with him over it.
“And besides, I know you have missed your mom cooking pasta for us when we would go to her house in Australia, I figured I should make some do you instead” he adds.
I slowly approach the table. He is still finishing up plating everything. He looks up at me and smiles. “It smells good” I say flatly. He takes off the oven mitts and wipes his hands on it. He sets my plate down in front of me and he pulls out the chair to my right and takes a seat.
“So how was your day Jake?” I asked awkwardly. He starts digging in and responds, “Not too bad. What about yours?”
“Same shit different day. Boss is always yelling at me and the company keeps treating me like garbage even though I am the only one who actually gives a fuck.” I complained, eating a piece of garlic toast. It tasted good, surprisingly good, considering the amount of spices he used.
“Well I am glad it’s Friday so you can take some time to unwind over the weekend” he attempts to comfort me but at this point i’m too tired.
“I guess.” I poke at my food a little bit. Why does Jake’s job seem so perfect? he easily makes twice as what I make and I rarely hear him complain about working either.
“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, I am not going to force you.” I guess Jake noticed me being hesitant about eating the rest of my meal.
“It’s not that I don’t want to eat it’s just that I’m really stressed and I don’t want to keep you here listening to me complain about the same things over and over again”
“Look at me” he said. I slowly lift my head for my eyes to meet with his. “I promise I will never get tired of listening to you” he reassured.
There he goes again, sending those butterflies flapping in my stomach. I don’t understand why he is so gentle and compassionate. It gives me goosebumps. I decide I might as well stop procrastinating and start enjoying the evening. “Thank you” I say, giving him a small smile. His face immediately lit up. It’s kind of cute. The rest of dinner went rather smoothly. Jake kept the conversation going, mostly talking about my day and what his was about, and then we would drift off into silence. He looked so relaxed and calm that I felt completely at ease. Even if I knew I should feel bad for keeping him up with my whining, I couldn’t bring myself to.
I stand up from the table and wash my plate. “I don’t know if anyone told you today, but you look gorgeous as always” he sneaks up behind me. “You don’t look too bad your self Jakey” I returned. My face was already a dark hue of red.
I decided maybe tonight I won’t rot away in my room. It’s a Friday night, I’ll have a little bit of fun. Still inside the house though. It is probably too cold outside anyway. I realize I am still in my work clothes. I return to my room to take them off and throw on my most comfortable pair of shorts and a talk top and take my Nintendo Switch to the living room.
Jake was already waiting there for me. He had a bottle of wine and 2 empty glasses. He looked up when I entered and smiled. I gave a shy smile and sat down next to him. He pulled me closer to him, pressing himself against me. Our legs intertwined under the couch. For a moment I forgot about the work situation and the world. In that moment it just felt nice to sit close to someone who cared for me unconditionally.
“What were you wanting to play?” he breaks the silence. “I was thinking we could play some Mario Kart” I suggested.
“Yeah we can, but you already know I’m gonna kick your ass”. He loves teasing me. I punched his shoulder and chuckled.
~~~~~~~~~~
He is in my bed. I just woke up and he is in my bed. I don’t know how to react. Maybe I drank a little too much? I really don’t remember anything after playing a few rounds of Mario Kart. He looks so peaceful. His dark brown hair all tangled up on the pillow. The way his biceps look in his black tank top. He doesn’t snore, but the way he breathes when he sleeps is very cute. There is a slight hint of stubble on his chin, almost like he hasn’t shaved in awhile. His lips are slightly parted. His face shows such contentment and relaxation. He looks so damn beautiful. I have to admit he is pretty attractive and I think he knows it. And I can’t help but wonder about what would happen if I leaned forward and kissed him. His soft lips pressed up against mine. I think it would be okay. Probably wouldn’t hurt. Scratch that, it would probably hurt a lot.
I woke up surprisingly early for a Saturday morning. Usually I am in bed until noon, but it’s only 9:30. Opposite of me, Jake likes to start his weekends bright and early, so it is a bit strange that he isn’t awake by now. I won’t bother him. It’s probably better this way. I roll over onto my side facing away from him. I close my eyes trying to fall back asleep. But it seems to be impossible. My mind is too preoccupied and Jake’s body is far too close to mine for my liking. I groan quietly. It doesn’t help at all.
I crawl out of bed, doing my best not to wake Jake up. As soon as I step out of the room, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. It’s my mom. I guess I hadn’t returned and of her texts last night. She asks if I have slept okay and if I’ve eaten breakfast. When she sees I haven’t. She sends me a picture of the last time I was at her house eating spaghetti. “Just eat something sweetheart and take care of yourself” she reminds me gently. I sigh deeply before replying. “Mhmm thanks mom” I set my phone down on the kitchen counter and rummage through the fridge, hoping to find something appetizing for breakfast. As I search, I can't stop thinking about waking up next to Jake this morning. We've been best friends for so long, but recently I've started seeing him in a new light. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how considerate he is, it stirs up the feelings I've been trying to suppress. I shake my head slightly and settle on making some eggs and toast.
As I cook, memories of last night come flooding back. The wine, the laughter, the gentle way he pulled me close on the couch as we played games. My heart flutters just thinking about how natural and right it felt being cuddled up next to him. But I can't read too much into it. Jake is my oldest friend, he probably sees the intimacy as purely platonic. The sizzle of the eggs brings me back to reality. I quickly plate the food and grab a mug of coffee before heading to the living room. I'll just relax and enjoy this lazy Saturday morning.
I'm about halfway through my breakfast when I hear Jake's footsteps shuffling down the hallway. He emerges, hair sticking up adorably, letting out a big yawn. "Mornin' sunshine," he says with a sleepy grin. I feel my cheeks warm at the nickname. "Morning. I made some extra if you want it," I reply, nodding toward the kitchen. "You're the best." Jake passes over to dish up a plate, giving me a perfect view of his lean back muscles stretching against his thin t-shirt. I quickly avert my eyes as he returns to the couch. As he sits next to me, our arms brush and I feel that spark of electricity again.
Jake doesn't seem to notice, just digs into his eggs happily. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up again.
"That was a fun night last night, wasn't it?" His eyes meet mine with a warm smile. "We'll have to do it again soon." I return the smile, hoping he can't see the longing behind it. "Yeah, it was really nice." Nice to just relax and be ourselves without any expectations or pressures. Nice to feel...that close to him.
~~~~~~~~~~
Jake has a friend named Jay. When Jake isn’t at work or at the house, he is most likely hanging out with Jay. Jay is a go with the flow kind of guy and was kind of a womanizer. There’s nothing wrong with it, but I try not to hang out with Jake when Jay is there for that reason.
Jake and Jay always go out for drinks on Saturday nights. I can’t remember the last time he was home on a Saturday night and I didn’t have to take care of him the next morning. He routinely stays at Jay’s house that night then gets an Uber back here the next morning.
Jake and Jay's Saturday night routine carried on like clockwork most weekends. Around 9 PM, Jay would pick Jake up and they'd head to their usual bar downtown. The two friends would drink heavily, telling outrageous stories and shamelessly checking out any attractive women who passed by.
For Jake, it was just a guys' night out away from work stress. But for Jay, it was a chance to flirt and see if he could add another notch to his bedpost. Jake didn't partake in that behavior himself, but he also didn't reproach Jay for it. He figured it was just Jay's way.
Come last call, the two would be pretty sloshed. Instead of dealing with an Uber that late, Jake would just crash at Jay's place. He'd wake up hungover the next morning and request a ride from a car service back home.
When he arrived home disheveled, I'd already have water and painkillers ready for him. I hated having to nurse him after these nights, but it was better than having Jay's leering presence around me. His constant objectification of women made me deeply uncomfortable. So I put up with Jake's hangovers to avoid that part of their friendship dynamic.
Jake opens the front door. I can hear him complaining about his headache already. He sets his keys down and immediately lays down in the couch.
"Hey babygirl, where is the aspirin? Do we have any aspirin left?" he asks groggily. A small chuckle escapes my lips before I turn around to look at him, smiling slightly. “I already got it out for you, and here is a glass of water”. His eyes are closed as I place the pills in his hand and he smiles once they make contact. “Thank you so much for taking care of me princess.” he praises as he shot the tablets into his mouth.
I giggle. This man is ridiculous. A loud yawn escapes his lips and I smile. As much as I hate seeing him like this, I am content with letting him have his fun every once in a while. His shirt is buttoned incorrectly, showing off his muscular chest. I look back at his face. His eyes were opened and he noticed me staring.
“What’s wrong Princess?” he slurs. “Do I look stupid or something?”
“No Jake, you look great” I reply truthfully. “You just looked a little tired is all.”
Jake rolls over on the couch and turns onto his side. “I know you’re going to tell me I should rest more, but it’s so hard to sleep when you’re not in the same room.”
“Really? You usually fall asleep within seconds. Why is that?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know babe. Just don’t like being alone.”
I frown. That’s true enough. Jake never really liked being by himself. Ever since we were in diapers, he had always been surrounded by people. His parents, coworkers…me.
I decide to ask something rather personal instead. Maybe that will distract us for a while. “How’s your mom doing lately? Do you miss her?” Jake doesn’t respond right away. He starts fidgeting under my gaze. His hands begin picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.
“Yeah, yeah. I miss her. I wish she wouldn’t be working so much now. She used to work less back when we were high school, you know? I still get worried sometimes” he answers with a slight edge in his voice. “It’s okay Jake. You know she likes working for your dad. It helps pay for everything” I remind him softly. He nods slowly. After a few moments, he finally breaks the silence.
“Why do you ask?” I guess he was caught off guard by the question. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen them, Australia isn’t in walking distance, ya know.” I try to cheer him up.
He sighs and looks down at the couch. “I guess I just wish I was able to spend more time with her like I did when I was younger. It doesn’t matter though.” He shakes his head dismissively. “She’ll come visit whenever she can. I’m just glad we both decided to live somewhere else for college. I would definitely have missed our family trips.”
“Oh…” I bite my lip unsure what to say to comfort him. He’s always taken his mother very seriously. Even when he was young he often complained that she worked too hard and stressed herself out, which only made him madder. In all fairness, she did work extremely hard—even harder than he ever could. And now that she has found some semblance of stability, he worries that he won’t be able to provide for her the lifestyle he wanted for her.
I reach out and pat Jake's arm reassuringly. "I know how much you miss your mom. But she's doing what she needs to in order to help take care of the bills and your dad. You know she'd be here if she could."
Jake nods slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish there was more I could do from here, instead of feeling so helpless being so far away. I know my dad would want me there as well" He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "At least I have you around. Don't know what I'd do. You kinda of bring a feeling of home to me. I hope that made sense.”
I feel my cheeks flush a little at his words. "Well, you know I'll always be here for you," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
“Thank you sweet heart.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Our parents went to University together. That’s how they met. My mom met Jake’s mom in a sociology class, and they have been best friends ever since. Being college bestfriend basically guarantees that your kid will have someone to grow up with, and they took advantage of that. He has litterally been there for every life event my mom felt was important enough to let him in on.
Though we didn’t become friends by choice, we were latched onto eachother ever since we were introduced. I remember I would ball my eyes out when even Jake got sick because it meant I couldn’t hang out with him after school or have play dates on the weekends. As we grew up, the situations weren’t as innocent. I would confide in him when I was upset, and he would hold me in his arms after my nightmares. I even found comfort in him after my numerous hearts breaks in highschool. Though none of my relationships were ever that serious, I was still unmistakably heartbroken.
Jake was never really a ladies man in highschool, or in general. He studied more on acedemics, which I guess was a good idea considering where he is now. Although I’d never said anything about it, his dating career was pretty dead for several years. In my opinion, it seemed unfair to Jake to not go on dates after highschool. While I understood why he wasn’t interested, it seemed a waste not to try. After all, I’m sure he could get any chick he wanted if he tried, I mean look at him. He had grown from a cute kid playing video games to one who had a perfect body and gorgeous features to match. So yeah, I loved that he was a boy and my friend. But there was no way I could give myself completely to such a man, especially with our history.
Jake is a lot different when I’m around, a lot more caring and loving. I’m reminded of all those times when I would find Jake crying when we came back from vacation during our sophomore year, or how he would suddenly appear at my room door at 5am looking for reassurance or help. At the time, I thought it was because he needed someone to talk to about the things troubling his mind, but now that I think about it , it’s kind of obvious he’s lonely. His dad has been in and out of the hospital recently. I don’t really want to push Jake into going into detail about his condition because it might make him emotional, but I just know that it is another thing that is weighing on him.
When I first started seeing him more and more recently, I thought maybe he wanted us to become closer friends. I mean, he was always talking about how much he adores spending time with me, and how grateful he is to me for saving him and bringing him back to life. I think the situation with his parents are weighing down on him more than I realize.
~~~~~~~~~~
The rhythmic tapping of rain against the window pane fills the hushed stillness of my bedroom. I lie awake, Jake's sleeping form curled up beside me, his head pillowed on my chest. His eyebrows are furrowed even in slumber, mouth turned down in a soft frown - the worry lines etched across his features never seem to fully fade these days. Gently, I brush some stray locks of hair off his forehead, my thumb tracing over the crease between his brows. Jake's been carrying the entire weight of his family's struggle on those broad shoulders.
A quiet sigh escapes his lips and he burrows deeper into my side, one arm slinging possessively over my waist. We've been a tangle of limbs like this more nights than not recently. After the latest bout of bad news about his dad, Jake sought me out like a man wandering through the desert in desperate need of water. I remember the rawness in his voice as he begged to stay in his room, to be held and comforted, the same way I always have. Whatever Jake needs from me, he'll never be turned away.
Trailing my fingers through Jake's hair, I allow myself to drink in every detail of him in this rare moment of peace. The slight upturn of his perfectly sloped nose. The way his plump lips are parted just enough to allow shallow puffs of breath to ghost across my skin. He really is beautiful in the most masculine, rugged way. Not that I'd ever say that out loud - it would be mortifying if Jake caught me ogling him like some lovesick fool. Then again, I've been a lovesick fool for the better part of a decade when it comes to him.
Lost in the flow of my thoughts, I don't even register the soft snuffling noises at first. It's only when Jake's eyelashes start fluttering that I glance down to find him blinking up at me groggily. Without a word, he shifts until his head is cradled in the crook of my neck, placing a slow, scorching kiss to the exposed skin of the side of my neck.
The world seems to screech to a halt. That...was definitely intentional. Purposefully intimate. There's no way it was an accident or a brief moment of sleep-hazy confusion. Not with the way Jake's pupils are blown wide, his lips parting to reveal the tip of his tongue darting out to wet them instinctively.
Just as quickly as the spark ignited, Jake seems to deflate, burying his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder with a muffled whimper. His hands are fisting in the fabric of my sleep shirt, clutching me with a white-knuckled grip like I'm his lifeline back to the surface. Like if he doesn't hold on, he might drown. "Hey hey hey…" I gently stroke the length of his spine calming him. "You're okay now, everything is alright, relax..." Jake's breathing gradually slows. Gradually, he begins to relax, his fingers slackening their death grip in my shirt.
A few moments pass in silence before he lifts his head and looks directly at me. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, probably from all the crying. They’re red and glassy, a stark contrast to his usually flawless complexion. "Sorry," he murmurs. I shrug slightly. "Don't apologize." After a few sniffles, I feel his breathing become more consistent and his face is dry. He starts to do that cute breathing that I talked about. After I realized that he has met some sort of peace and fell asleep, I fell asleep soon after.
~~~~~~~~~~
The morning light filters in through the cracks of my blinds, shining over Jake's sleeping body in a soft glow. My eyes trace the line of his jawbone, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest as he breathes. He looks so tranquil like this.
Jake smells so fucking good. If I could lay on his chest and take it his scent all day, I really would. Not to mention his face is extremely handsome. He has the face that other guys wish they had. It’s very obvious he takes care of himself.
I can't stop replaying that moment from last night over and over in my mind. The heat of Jake's lips pressing against the skin of my neck. Part of me was desperate to surge forward then and seal my mouth over Jake's, to finally give in to the magnetic pull that's been drawing me to him.
But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I'm also terrified of what exploring these feelings could mean for our relationship.
Losing him isn't an option I can fathom. And he seemed to make the same choice in that moment by turning away, burying his face against my neck with a whimper that could have been either anguished or relieved.
We're cowards, the two of us. Content to dance around the fire instead of being set ablaze
Part of me wonders if Jake was hoping for something in return. Maybe a kiss? Maybe he did it to show it trust and comfort for me. He knows what he is doing. The moment his lips touched my neck, my whole body shivered. I wanted more but I contained myself.
My body still hums with the memory of his kiss, nerves tingling with equal parts of dread. I want to reach out and trail my fingertips over the golden skin of his forearm, to breathe him in and see if he tastes how I've imagined on my tongue.
How many more moments like last night can I survive before the truth comes out? I don't have the answers. All I know is that I'm still undeniably his - body, mind and heart.
It has been too many nights where I imagine his lips against mine. The way he chills my spine when whispers in my ear makes me crave hearing his voice. I wonder what he would be like in a relationship with me, he treats me like a princess already, I don’t know how much better it could get.
My mind drifts to memories of him holding me tight when I was upset, his muscular arms engulfing me in a warm embrace. The feeling of safety and contentment that would wash over me in those moments. If I could experience that every night by his side, it might just be pure bliss.
I fantasize about waking up intertwined with Jake, our legs tangled together as we trade kisses and touches unhurried by the outside world. Combing my fingers through his bed hair while he peppers light kisses along my jawline.
Maybe there could be slowmake-out sessions on the couch, all heated caresses and desperate roaming hands before things inevitably progress further. I would lavish every sculpted line of Jake's body with devoted attention. I imagine he would be an attentive, generous lover, just as giving in the bedroom as he is in every other aspect of his life.
I also can’t get over the mental hurdle that maybe it is kind of gross that I see my bestfriend this way. I could easily mistake all of the kind things he does and how he treats me as something more than what he intends it to be, and that would make me uneasy. I have never done anything sexual with him and anything that would imply sexual attraction, yet I am still here wondering what it is like to have sex with him.
~~~~~~~~~~
I really need to get my feelings sorted out soon because they are just going to keep building up until they eventually burst, and I really don’t want Jake to witness that.The week went the same again. and again. and again. Wake up, go to work, do nothing after. But recently, Jake got a promotion at his job, which was grounds for celebration.
The local diner is busy with the lunch crowd, the air thick with aromas of burgers sizzling on the griddle and fresh baked pie. Jake and I slip into our usual corner booth, the cracked vinyl cushions molding to our forms like old friends. This place has been our go to spot since we started university here. We've shared so many moments in this very booth over the years. Happy celebrations or acing a big exam.
Which is why the thick tension clouding the air between us right now feels so alien. Instead of our usual easy camaraderie, I can barely look at Jake without my pulse kicking up. The memory of his firm chest brushing mine, those plush lips just a table length away, has my skin flushing hot. I squeeze my thighs together secretly, desperate for any kind of friction to alleviate the slow burn of arousal low in my belly.
Just being this close to Jake is enough to have that want unfolding all over again. Filling my head with flashes of how it could feel to finally give in - his weight blanketing me, our bodies moving together in a sinuous rhythm as his mouth trails searing kisses along my neck. "Hey." Jake's low rumble jolts me out of the vivid fantasy.
"You're zoning out, sweetheart. Everything okay?" My cheeks flame darker, that suddenly seems too intimate. I duck my head, but not before catching the unmistakable smirk curling at the corners of Jake's lips. That insufferable, cocky smirk he knows drives me crazy. I want to kiss it off his stupidly perfect face. Or maybe bite at the sharp line of his jaw, put that arrogant look to better use while I'm straddling his lap and--
"Fine," I mumble, hooking a loose strand of hair behind my ear to avoid meeting Jake's eyes. The small movement causes our elbows to brush together on the tabletop. His skin is so soft. Jake's brow furrows, like he doesn't miss the way I've gone tense and flustered all over again. Before I can blink, his hand is covering mine. Those long fingers tenderly stroking along my knuckles, smoothing over my suddenly clammy skin.
Slowly, purposefully, Jake tugs my hand closer until my palm is cupping his scruffy jaw. I suck in a sharp, shaky breath at the contact, at being able to feel the rasp of his five o'clock shadow against my sensitive skin. Jake holds me there for a moment, those meltingly warm eyes boring into mine like he's trying to read my mind.
Then, in the most tempting act of torture imaginable, Jake presses his lips to my wrist in the barest brush of mouth against pulse point. I swear I could die right then and there. He slowly pulls away, looking up to meet my eyes once again. Our gaze meets, intense and lustful, filled with a hunger that only he knows how to create. This feels so wrong, so dangerous. The fact he's staring down at my lips, licking his subconsciously causes a slight hitch in my breathing. A tiny part of me wants to lean forward and press my lips to his. But I stop the impulse with the thought of what we did last night, and the consequences of getting caught again.
Instead, I let out a sigh and break eye contact before pulling my hand away and placing my elbow on the table. I rub my thumb across my wrist absentmindedly while avoiding Jake's gaze, the words I want to say stuck somewhere inside my throat like rocks. There isn't anything I can do. What I have with Jake is different now. I'm scared shitless to tell him how I truly feel.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Jake asks, worry laced into his tone. He places a hand on my thigh, making me jump slightly. “It’s nothing, really” I lied. The server comes over to the table to take our order. “What could I get started for you to drink” he says.
-
Our meal goes by normally, Jake pretending that he had done nothing earlier. Afterward, we head home, the silence thickening the further into town we get. There’s nothing for me to say, no reason to prolong this conversation I’m dreading anymore. He must sense my sudden change of mood. He drops his arm from around my shoulders and lets his hand fall limply back onto his knee.
We walk silently in the direction of our house. Neither of us speaking. It’s almost as if we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. I have an overwhelming urge to turn to him and kiss him.
~~~~~~~~~~
I can’t stop thinking about Jake. He is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. Over the past few weeks, I feel like he has become a lot more touchy, which don’t really mind. He smiles for a little longer when we eat together. We have slept in each others room a lot more often than before. I may just be over analyzing it.
Jake is going out with Jay again. As usual, I don’t plan on him coming home tonight, and I will wake up to a hungover Jake. Jay isn’t really the friend to take care of you when you feel ill, so that responsibility is left on me.
I hate to admit, but when Jake isn’t home for a night, I fight the urge to sleep in his bed. I have been sleeping in his bed with him so often that it leaves me in withdrawal when we aren’t in the same bed.
Just being in his room, his scent diffused in the air, it makes me miss him so much more. Even without thinking about the fact that it is his room, the bed is so much more comfortable than mine, which is all the better reason to sleep there.
I walk in, already in my shorts and t-shirt, and wonder around. He has the picture of us that his mom took when we were first leaving for Korea framed on his nightstand.
I pick it up and examine it closely. It is the one photo where we didn’t appear stiff. I remember the day clearly; I was standing with him, grinning broadly. I never expected to smile so much when I was young, but my memories of our trip leave a bright happy feeling inside my stomach.
I set the photo back down and I lift the blanket from the corner of the bed. I slide into the bed, laying on his side like I usually do when he isn’t here. I instantly melt into the sheets. I scroll on my phone whilst fighting my eyelids to stay awake, but eventually I fall asleep prematurely.
Jake usually keeps his room pretty cool, which calls for cuddling closely under the blankets. In the middle of my sleep, I am shot awake when my cold limbs are instantly warmed by an unexpected sensation. Why was Jake home?
Jake continues to get comfortable under the blanket, not even batting an eye at the fact that I was just sleeping in his bed. I pull him closer by his waist to fulfill the rest of the warmth that my body craves.
“Why are you shivering sweetheart, you could have turned on the heater.” he worries.
“I wanted the temperature to be tolerable when you got back in the morning” such a stupid explanation. “Speaking of, why are you here right now? what happened to Jay’s?” I questioned, completely forgetting how we got into this situation in the first place.
“Jay was feeling ill so we called it a night pretty early, I only got three shots down.”
Jake runs a lazy finger over my hip bone and leans in to nuzzle the crook of my neck.
Shit. He’ll notice the way I react to his touches and I won’t be able to explain myself. Fuck.
“I thought I would come to my room and catch up on sleep but look what we have here instead” he says with that stupid smirk on his face.
“Oh- oh I’m sorry.” I slowly pull away from him to make way back to my room. “No babe, please don’t go, I want you to stay” he begs while keeping our fingers latched to keep our extended arms together. He then latched his hand around my wrist to slowly pull me back down to his level on the bed. It’s all happening too fast. He uses the same hand to comb his fingers through the strands at the bottom of my hair on the back of my head, and keeps his hand there entangled. He uses his hand to guide my head into a sensual kiss. He gently pressed his lips against mine. So plump, so dreamy. I reciprocated the kiss instantly, matching his pace and moving our lips in sync so perfectly. The way our lips intertwined so naturally gave me actual chills.
After giving me what I have dreamt about for years, he pulls away, leaving a string of saliva to connect our lips. He looks into my eyes, his pupils as voids. “Please stay” he whispers again. I nod dumbly, my brain still short circuiting as Jake bites is bottom lip. He’s so fucking beautiful, my eyes are practically burning holes into his lips.
His fingers gently run over my cheekbone, lingering on my jawline, tracing along my nose.
“How did I ever deserve someone as beautiful as you?” he murmurs. His voice is full of admiration and love and affection.
He trails his fingers along my jaw, pausing to lightly graze my collar bone, making goosebumps erupt across my skin. The heat radiating off Jake’s body is practically burning me alive.
Without thinking about it for a second longer, I close the gap between our lips again. We moved in sync, in harmony. It feels like my lips were only made to kiss his. He rests his free hand on the side of my face and uses it as grip to deepen the kiss. Kissing him I had a sense of saftey. The longer our lips were together, the more open I was to his attempts at adding tongue into the mixture. It was a sloppy wet mess, but is all I have ever wanted.
I slide my hand between out warm bodies and feel across his obvious bulge in his boxers. He instantly let out a groan when I took his imprint into my palm. I stroked it gently as we continued with intertwined tongues. His grunts and breathlessness was insanely arousing.
It was clear that we were both extremely sleepy. After a few more minutes of kissing, we eventually pulled away, with no words spoken.
I try my best to hold in my moans as the warmness travels up my body like lava. He stops tracing my collarbone to trail his hands up the side of my body, stopping to stroke a line of soft kisses along the side of my neck.
My hands grasp tightly at the material covering Jake’s shoulder blades and I use that leverage to get back under the blankets with him. We both face eachother, with our legs crossing randomly over one another. He once again rests his head in the crook of my neck, leaving a kiss like he did once before. Only this time, I know his true intention.
~~~~~~~~~
The fall semester is starting back up again. Junior year, both is our schedules are jammed packed with upper division classes. Having to balance so many classes and still having to work to keep up with the bills for the house, Jake and I hardly see each other. Even though I love spending every single day with him, I feel like I’m living with a ghost whenever I see his empty seat. When I wake up every morning to find him gone, my heart starts to ache. It hurts knowing that we might not spend as much time together. I know that the sooner that this semester ends, the easier everything will be.
The end of the semester wasn’t going to be soon though, it’s barely September. I’ve decided to try and set a study date with Jake and make sure nothing was overlapping the times. We eventually agreed apon Thursday night after he got off of his afternoon job. Maybe around 8 o’clock. I was getting a head start on my Statistics work before he showed up because I knew it would take me a while. He eventually showed up close to 8:30.
I had my headphone covering my ears, shoulders slumped over my desk, and he comes up behind me and take my shoulders in his hands and sensually massages. “Ah thank youuuu~~~ my muscles are tight” I jumped at the unexpected pressure. He drives his thumbs a little bit deeper into my blades and slides his straight arms down my stomach for a hug. “I missed you” he griped with puppy dog eyes, resting his head on my shoulder. I take off my headphone and hold both of his forearms and pull him deeper into this awkwardly positioned hug.
After a few seconds he pulls away and grabs out his bag with his laptop, and runs to his room to grab his chair to pull up next to mine. I was still seated, watching, unable to take my eyes off him. He settles himself and puts the laptop on his knees in front of him. He opens his notebook, and turns the page to the worksheet for this month. My fingers naturally find their way to his back and scratch gently while he looks over his work. They made their way up his clothed back and into his hair and I ran them through this tangled hair. He let out a sigh of fufillment and he allows himself self to close his eyes to fully take in the relaxing feeling. He breaths in deeply and slowly, taking in my coconut scent.
“Fuck it” he says under his breath.
He turns in my directed and crashed his lips into mine with no hesitation. He wraps his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. I was startled at the quick change in plans but my lips soon melted into his and I was under his control. My tongue dances along his bottom lip, asking for entrance as he obliges and gives access. He lifts me from my chair and pulls me over to straddle his thighs.
He guides his lips to mine again, running his hands down my back as he pushes me lower into his lap. I wrap my legs slightly around his waist for some sense of support. The sensual make out and lap straddling goes on and on, until he breaks away slightly to speak, “You can move if you want sweetheart”.
He reconnects our lips and I find myself needing any sort of friction to ease the pressure building between my legs. Subconsciously grinding my core over his thigh slowly. I bite down on his lower lip causing him to suck on my tongue immediately as a response. God, he tastes so good, like the cocoa butter lip balm I got him for his birthday.
I continue grinding over his thighs picking up the aggressiveness, as he continues to run his hands through my hair. “Feeling desperate, darling?” he teases, smirking as he tries to pull me back into a kiss. “Shut up” I harden my fist and hit the front of his shoulder. He always finds a way to tease me. He chuckles as we connect our lips once again.
He slides both of his hands under my thighs stands up from his chair, and I wrap my legs around his body as he carries me to the bed. He slowly lays me down on my back with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t break the kiss but as soon as he sets me down, I can feel his erection bulging through his pants rubbing against me sweet spot. We stop kissing momentarily as he looks at me, with lust filled eyes. He lets one of his hands rest on my chest, while the other traces along the side of my neck to my chin, tilting my head upward and pressing his forehead against mine. “Look at how gorgeous you are right now,” he says with pure adoration. “I can’t help myself when I’m with you.” A sudden surge of desire hits me and my hands grip his hips tighter as he starts to trail kisses on my jawline. I can feel an undeniable wetness spreading in my panties. I am becoming desperate.
I placed my hands at the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it up, but he finished the job and lifted it over his head and threw it to the side. I have seen Jake shirtless a million times over but this time is different. It feels more intimate than the last ones I have seen. I felt my throat tighten as my eyes were drawn to his chest which looked absolutely flawless. “So beautiful” I whisper and I trace my fingers over his abs and chest. His body looks perfectly carved and sculpted by a god. “It’s all for you, baby” he cooed.
I reach my arms around his back and gently dig my nails into his skin as he continues to kiss me. He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, revealing my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra since I had been home all afternoon, and I definitely wasn’t expecting this. As soon as he sees them, he takes one of them in his hand. He holds my right breast in his palm and gently rubs it between his thumb and index finger.
His gaze remains focused on my chest as his mouth begins to travel down, taking his time to enjoy each and every piece of my body. He stops to give me another kiss before placing his lips on my nipple. He sucks on my nipple whilst his teeth nipped at my flesh, causing me to moan lowly. I grabbed his hair pulling him closer to me. I grind my pelvis onto his dick, eliciting a groan and he removes his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound, to look at his next target intensely. He took my other breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple and softly sucking, making me arch my back and having a moan escape my lips. Jake trails his hands down my waist while keeping his mouth latched to me.
His fingers went into the top of my sweatpants and I stopped him. “I have never done this before” I admitted. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions. How could I ever want him to stop? He is the only person I have ever imagined losing my virginity to. That aside I simply answer “No, Jakey, I trust you”
He continues to pull me pants down and off my legs and throws it to the side like he did with the other articles of clothing. He licks up my neck and comes to my ear. “I have never done this either, we can learn together” he whispered. Hearing this made my noticibly more wet, the way he whispers into my ear raises every single hair on my body. The thought of us having our first times with each other made this whole so much more meaningful and made me a lot less hesitant.
The only thing I have left on are my black panties and Jake looks like he is a man with a mission. I grab his bulge through his jeans and gently massage. He becomes a groaning mess as I palm his desperate tip. He is barely even able to keep his lips a decent distance apart for me to kiss him. “Fuuuck your hand feels so good” I take my other hand to start unbuckling his jeans, which he seems to have no problem with.
I pulled the belt off and unbuttoned his jeans and pulls them down, to where he took them all the way off. All he has left is his boxers. I can clearly see the imprint of he large cock through the thin fabric. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Does it look too big?, we can stop now if we need to” he questioned, seeing the fear on my face. I gulped and said “No, I can take it.”
I continued stroking through his boxers and he moved my panties to the side and rubbed gently on my folds. I gasped at the feeling. The better it started to feel, the less and less I was able to focus on Jake and more on myself. He had me wrapped around his finger. No amount of masturbating could compare to the way he is making me feel within these few minutes.
He slid his fingers down my clit and inserted one. He pumped it in and out until I felt that I was ready for more. Then 2. It hurt a little more but I slowly got used to it. He leaned his head down while his fingers still stuffed me and started leaving kisses on my clit. For having so little experience, he worked his finger and tongue like a professional. The way his tongue danced across my sensitive bud made my body shutter, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
“I love the sounds of your whimpers” he moaned against my clit teasing me. I couldn’t even respond. My breathing quickened, and the more his fingers fucked me, the more I could tell how wet I was getting. I whimpered again and I gripped his hair signaling how good he was making me feel. “It tastes just as sweet as I imagined” he praised. He has imagined this before? What else has he imagined?
His fingers slowed down and he slipped two inside of me simultaneously. My hips bucked up and I let out a small gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He continued working his fingers inside of me. He was eating like a man who hadn’t seen a meal in a week.
“I want to taste you now.” I protest, pulling his face up for a kiss. His eyes look like he is drunk as his tongue swirled with mine and he gave me a slow deep kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, then bit me, and finally opened his mouth and licked my tongue with his. He pulls away and allows me to pull his boxers past his hips and onto the ground. His dick sprung out. God, it was a lot thicker than I imagined.
I take the base of it and put my lips against the tip, swirling my tongue around. His muscular hand combs through the top of my hair and gently grips it as I begin to take more of his length in my mouth. I could feel it sliding smoothly in and out of my throat. His grip on my hair tightens and he guides me to take more in moderation. “God yes baby, that’s it” he encouraged. I looked up at him, the room filled with breathy moans and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I felt the waves of his voice vibrating through my lips as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across my entire body. I could feel my juices flowing through my pussy and down my belly.
I continue sucking him until he is almost completely buried inside my mouth. He leans down placing his lips beside my ear. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer” he whispers, making me smile.
He slowly pulls himself out of my mouth and lifts me back onto the bed. I use my arms to cover my chest, I am a little nervous. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t hide yourself, you look perfect darling” he said proceeding to take my tongue in his mouth. God this man loves using his tongue. I have never felt this type of intimacy before, and to think I am covering that ground with my bestfriend, was not how I thought it was going to go to say the least.
He brushes his tip in between my folds, spreading my wetness around. “Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop here, just say the words and I will stop” “Please keep going” I am practically begging. He seems to enjoy my obvious desperation. He guide the tip in slowly, trying not to overwhelm me. He goes in a little deeper. I wince in pain. “Ah baby go a little slower” I pleaded. I didn’t want him to stop but it was definitely starting to hurt. He held the same spot for a few more seconds, then slowly pushed more in. I have gotten used to the stinging, as it slowly turns to pleasure.
“Shit princess, you’re so fucking tight” Jake praises. He was getting lost in his own world since he has never felt a warm pussy wrapped aroung his dick before, especially not one like mine. I felt his tip hit the enterance of my cervix. He bottomed out. He didn’t move. He didn’t even want to move, he was just enjoying the moment of his cock being buried deep inside his bestfriend. “You ok babe?” he asked, concerned by the lack of movement from me. “Yeah, just give me a second” I replied, attempting to get myself under control.
I began to relax, letting the warmth envelop my entire body. I signal that his is able to move. He slowly pulls his cock out of my cunt, and immediately pushes it back in. He rests both of his arms next to my face and comes down to kiss me. I can see the faint beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You do not know how long I have been wanting to do this” He whispered into my ear. Once again, Jakes words send a tingle down my spine. He instantly latched himself onto my neck, sucking harshly while still keeping a slow pace down below. I grip his brown head of hair as he leaves purple marks on my skin, bruising my neck. He pulls out and goes back in, this time at a consistent rate.
Our torsos are in complete contact and he sets both of his hands under my back. I wrap my legs around his waist to allow him deeper access, which he so desperately needed. His lips were locked with mine. Our tongues were dancing along with each other as well as our chests. Every time he would suck on my lower lip, I moan against his lips.
“This is what I have been dreaming about” He says breaking away and kissing my nose. He finds me comfortable with his picking up the pace, and he did with no hesitation. He nuzzles into my neck with his hair partially resting on my face. There was no pain left to feel and my whole body was washed over with pleasure. His length fit so perfectly into my warm cunt, like we were make to only fuck eachother.
Jake head still right next to mine, I turn my head and whisper “Jakey, it feels so gooood~~~~” with inconsistency in my breathing. Jake’s ears were pleasured as if he were listening to his favorite song. He slowed down the pace, only to drive his dick deeper into my swollen cunt with each thrust. “Oh my god it’s feels so fucking good, you taking my cock like this.” he whines in my ear. He pulls away from my neck and just watching himself fuck into my pussy.
There was so much sweat on his face it was so fucking hot. It was dripping off his chin and onto my shoulder and neck. His hair was starting to get wet. He took both of my legs over his shoulders, making sure to maintain eye contact. Each stroke was deeper and deeper. Faster and faster. He was getting desperate. I don’t know how much more my inexperienced pussy can handle. He takes his thumb and gently rubs my clit. Ugh, I have never felt this sort of sensation before, being fucked at the same time.
My moans became more uncontrollable and my legs started to close in. “Fuckkkkk Jakey I am about to cum” I am on the verge of tears, overstimulated with pleasure. The pressure on my clit mixed with the repeated abuse of my cervix was enough to drive me over the edge. “Mmmmm yes doll, cum on my cock” he says lowly. My walls tighten around him and my hips are shaking. My heart is beating at 1000bpm, not a coherent thought left in my fucked-dumb mind. He practically has to pry my legs apart to maintain access to my slit. He holds my hips in place as he gives me a few more strokes. His became less and less powerful.
Once he felt his orgasm coming, he quickly pulled out of me, letting out a loud groan, and shot his strings of white cum all over my tummy and chest. The room was filled with loud pants and the scent of sex. “You are all I have ever wanted” I reach up to tuck his hair behind his ear, not minding the fact that his face was soaked. We rest our foreheads together and rub our noses across each other as we both try to catch our breath.
After a second of recovery, He runs to the bathroom and grabs a rag to clean me up. I could barely move my body, my entire entity was more than sore. It hurt to move, all I could do is lay there. Jake returns with a cold washcloth, and starts wiping off my stomach. “Do you need help getting cleaned up babe?” he asks, sitting down beside me, his arm around my naked torso. “Could we take a bath together?” I suggested.
A bath together after the fact is far more intimate, and could give us some time to talk things over. “Of course” and smiles. “I can go get it set up right now, darling, you just rest for a few minutes” He gives me a kiss on the nose and forehead before heading to run the faucet.
~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know how I could let this happen. I lay on my bed rerunning all of the events writhing the last hour in my head. I really don’t know why we both allowed it to go that far. I admit, I loved every second of it, but now that it’s over, we have to deal with the effects.
Jake comes back from running the faucet. He looks tired. Maybe a bath is something we both need. “Come here sweetheart” he brings a towel and sets it on the counter.
The bathroom mirror was completely fogged over. “Are you trying to make soup out of us?” I said jokingly. “I know you like taking your showers hot, so I thought maybe it would be the same for baths” he chuckled.
I dip my toes into the half full tub. Jake was right, the temperature was just how I liked it. I held onto his shoulder as I submerge my other foot. The water lapped over the rim of the bath tub.
I keep hold onto his hand so he can guide himself into the tub, taking a lot more balance and tolerance for him to try to get used to the boiling water. “God damn, you like it hot hot” he teases though I can see him furrowing his eyebrows at the heat.
“Oh don’t be such a baby” I tease him right back. He pouts playfully. I love seeing that kind of reaction from him. “I don’t mind” he mumbles in embarrassment, trying to hide the smile on his face.
Once his feet were able to get used to the water, we both slowly sat the rest of our bodies into the tub. Jakes hair is a mess, it’s going in all different directions. I reach out to tuck some of it behind his ears for him, and then cup his face in my palm. I stroke his cheek with my thumb. He tilts his head, there he goes with those irresistible puppy dog eyes again.
“What’s wrong baby?” he asks. I remain in eye contact with him. “Were you being serious? When you said you have dreamt about… that…?”
He’s silent. So much blood rushing to his face his cheeks are like strawberries. He scratched the back of his head. “I mean yeah… why wouldn’t I” he hesitated.
“I mean look at you, you are insanely attractive and we live together and have known each other forever. Of course my mind is going to wonder. It has wondered many more times than I would like to admit.” he explained himself.
Unintentionally, our bodies kept inching towards each other in that bath. I am some how a mere 6 inches away from his face. “Why haven’t you ever told me how you felt?”
“Because I was scared on how it would change our friendship”…. he had the exact same fear as I did. He was also afraid of losing one of his best friends. “If I tell you how I feel, you might think it’s weird or something” he whispers into my ear. “No I will understand, we have known each other our whole lives. How would it be weird?” I say softly.
He hesitates once again, and I can hear his heart start to pound. He closes the gap between us and rests his forehead on mine. “There is so much you don’t know” He breathes, still looking deep into my eyes. His words caused a flicker of anxiety inside of me. “There is so much I want to know about you, darling” I reassure.
“Well for starters I never thought this thing between us would become anything more than just friends” he confesses. It is hard for him to admit such things, but he has to show me that I matter more than he thinks. “It scares me, and I’m sorry that I let it go too far. I guess it’s because I’ve been waiting so long, and everything has changed so fast” he explained, he still had this worried look on his face like I were going to shut everything down. Everything had changed so fast.
“You have to stop worrying so much about me. You can trust me, okay? I’ll never judge or hate you or think any differently of you. All I want is for us to enjoy our first time together and enjoy each other. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you are to me”. I caress his face with my hands.
A small smile graces his features while he gazes back into my eyes. I lean forward and capture him in a long passionate kiss. Our lips moving in sync, tasting each others taste as if it was our first time doing it. We pull away and stare at each other. He places both of his palms on either side of my face, leaning in even closer. I place my lips in line with his.
My fingers run through his soaked hair, though I don’t know if it use from sweat or from water. “Jakey, if I am going to be honest, I have been feeling the same way. On nights where we don’t sleep in the same bed, I find myself getting less sleep and craving your warmth. I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us tonight. Admittedly, I have been wanting to do that with you for so long” I started ranting.
“When you were making love to me I felt like I was floating away and it felt so good I just wanted to stay here forever, like nothing else mattered. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to stay in this moment forever with you, but we both know that isn’t possible.” he continues, his voice cracking.
“Making love?” I chuckle. Such an interesting word choice. “Be quiet” he pushes back. “I’m just joking, but I agree”
He was clearly getting tired, letting out a yawn and fighting the force of his eyelids trying to close. “We should get to bed” I suggest. We soak the last few moments of the now comfortably hot water and get out of the tub. “You better not get water all over the floor, Jake” HE ALWAYS DOES THAT.
He grabs a towel for me and and one for himself and he wraps mine around my whole body width and pulls me for a hug. “I am glad we took a bath together sweetheart, try to get some rest” he whispers, and leaves an innocent kiss on my forehead.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next few weeks consisted of school, work, and sleeping in the same bed with Jake pretty much every single night. We would exchange passionate kisses and I would bathe him when he was too tired from work or hanging out with Jay. And he would do the same for me. We never went as far to have sex again. We weren’t scared but we felt like we should wait.
We are on our way back to Australia for fall break. Jake will finally get to see his parents and I will get to see mine. We get to have a whole week without having to worry about responsibilities. Which I know both of us desperately need. We touch down in Australia around maybe 3pm on the first Saturday of the break. We only brought carry on luggage for convenience and time.
“Have everything?” He questioned me as we were getting out of our seats. “I think so” I smile, so excited to see my parents. We arranged for Jake’s mom to pick us up from the airport. She had a large SUV able to fit all of our stuff comfortably. Once we passed through all of the security and customs, Jake calls her to see where she is parked. On speaker I hear her say “9 rows down from the south enterance” she explains. “Thanks mom, see you in a sec” Jake says about to hang up the phone. “Thank you Mrs Sim” I make sure she hears before he presses the red button.
We hurry to get out of the packed airport so meet up with his mom. The weather was cold and misty and it was hard to see. When we finally arrived outside the south enterance, we could hardly believe what we saw. Layla comes up running at full sprint in me and Jake’s direction. She jumped up onto bother of us, layering our faces and arms with slobbery licks and he tail wagging so hard it may as well had fallen off.
Once Layla was all calmed down we put our luggage into the trunk. We swing up the door and the vehicle seems oddly empty. “Where is dad?” Jake questioned his mom. “He is getting worse…. he wasn’t able to make it today, I had to take him back to the hospital last night” she explained. I could already see the heart break in his eyes. “Oh” We packed everything up and his mom offered for me to sit in the front seat. Honestly, I wanted to sit in the back seat and comfort Jake, so I made up the excuse that Layla should sit in the front.
The mood in the car ride home was off. I don’t know if it was from the weather or his fathers health but Jake was not as energetic as he was before. I know he doesn’t deserve everything happening to his dad so I will just try to support him through it.
~~~~~~~~~~
I never really gave it much thought, but the more I put the pieces together, I think maybe the reason Jake is so insistent on getting black out drunk with Jay on the weekends may have to do with his father.
Jake has never in his life had a healthy coping mechanism. I remember a lot through out grade school, he would feel guilty or take blame for things that were not his fault, just to mediate the situation. When he did this, he did not react to the discipline very well, but it seems like he would much rather face conveniences than to start an argument over the original problem.
Jake let a lot of people take advantage of him, and it is still something that we have to work on, but knowing the situation with his dad, I know he has a lot more things to worry about now that usual.
Many of the people excluding his parents are alcoholics, any family event we went to together, the main thing being passed around was a bottle. When we were younger, things made him build resentment towards them but the older we got, the more willing he was to try alcohol, only adding more and more each time until he is where he is at now.
Jay isn’t the type of friend to stop this behavior either. I will never understand why Jake is such good friends with him cause he never seems to have the best intentions or good interest in mind. I can’t be the one to tell him that they should stop being friends cause at the end of the day, Jake’s relationship with alcohol won’t be healed in a split second.
~~~~~~~~~~
Nothing really eventful happened over the span of the after noon, the rain put everything to a halt. I slept in the guest bed in Jake’s house for the first night but was unable to fall asleep for the majority of the night. Jake’s mom rushed into the room around 1:30 am.
“Hey are you awake? We have to go the hospital, it’s my husband. Please wake up Jake while I grab the keys” She said with an extremely shaken voice full of urgency. I shoot out of the bed and put my shorts back on and practically run down the hallway to Jake’s room. It is locked. I bang on the door frantically. “Jake! Jake get up now we have to go” I echo through the door. Quickly after he swings open his door with his shirt in his hand, in the middle of putting it on.
The SUV was already started when we got out the front door and we ran to get into the car and soon as we sat down she reversed and tried to explain. “He slipped into a coma. They said they are trying everything to get him to wake up but they have no idea why it happened because he was in decent shape before” she says with tears forming in her eyes.
I reach up to the front seat to scratch her shoulder to try and calm her. I don’t think there is anything someone can do in this situation to calm someone in this much distress down but I tried. She is going dangerously fast down the highway. I know that she has been working hard to keep them afloat and thing we’re starting to get better. After that I couldn’t stand to listen anymore and closed my eyes hoping that by some miracle she wouldn’t end up killing us.
After what seemed like hours we reached the hospital and were quickly taken to another private room where we could talk with him alone. Of course his dad wasn’t going to be able to say anything. But Jake still wanted him to listen. He took his fathers hand a caressed his palm with his fingers while he said what he needed to say. Once he was done, I gave Jake a hug as his red face were completely covered in tears.
“He will be okay, I promise” I reassured him. We walked out of the room to discover his mom sitting next to the window, face completely void of emotion. He hasn’t spoken a word since we have gotten here.
“You know…. he was really excited for you both to come back. He was practically counting down the days” she admitted, wiping a tear from here eye. “I was so excited with him” she added. Her words shatter my heart. How is she not screaming in anger right now. Angry at the world for doing this to her innocent husband. That was something I admired about her. She was always able to contain her emotions well, almost too well.
Seeing both her and Jake in this state was absolutely terrible. I knew it would only take a miracle to fix this given his dads condition. “It’ll all be okay, Jake, don’t cry” I assure him. “It won’t, how am I supposed to deal with this? How am I supposed to go back to school without seeing him, talking to him… it hurts” “There is still a chance that he will make it Jake, don’t give up on it. I know he wants you to wait for him”
He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was bury his face into my shoulder and sob. He tried to form words, but they were only choked noises which caused him to cry even harder. “Shh its okay, I am here” I assure him. Me, Jake and his mom spent the night in the hospital. His mom slept in the room with his dad and me and Jake slept in a guest waiting room. Well, I was the only one who was able to get some sleep. Jake was up all night worrying about his father. I could hear him crying as I were trying to fall asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
A few weeks had passed and his fathers condition remained the same, and to be honest, Jake and his mom seemed like they kind of accepted that this was the way that things were going to be.
We were back at the house, his mom would just go to work and lock herself in her room until she had to go to work again and Jake and I were preparing to go back to Korea for the Winter semester.
Mrs Sim did not want to see us leave, and she made it very clear. We were her last hope with everything going on with her husband. I really wish me and Jake could stay back to support her but we have jobs and bills that we have to get back to, and life can’t just pause for us. We promised we would let her know how we are feeling, how much we missed each other and everything else that went along with saying goodbye.
We leave in 3 days, and we made it our mission to hang out with his mom as much as we could before we left. She hasn’t taken a break either… no time to her self she just has to keep working to pay for the house and the piling medical bills.
Those last few days, we took Mrs. Sim out for lunch at her favorite Thai restaurant. She seemed to genuinely smile for the first time in weeks as we joked and reminisced about times when all 4 of us were together. One night, we rented some classic movies she loved and made her favorite snacks. We cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the familiar feeling of just being together as a family again, if only briefly.
Jake and I helped around the house as much as we could - running errands, doing yard work, and cooking meals to give his mom a little respite. We made sure to soak in every moment because we didn't know when we'd all be together like that again.
~~~~~~~~~~
When it came time for our early morning departure back to Korea, Mrs. Sim took us both in for a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears. "Take care of each other," she whispered hoarsely. Jake grabs our suitcases out of the trunk and his mom pulls me to the side.
“Please promise to take care of him for me. You have always been a safe place for him, I can only imagine how he has been feeling” she begged. I held bother of her hands in the palms of mine. “I promise, Mrs Sim, I will do everything in my power to take care of him, don’t worry. You have other things to worry about” I reassure her pulling her into a hug.
Layla climbs through the back of the car from the front seat and jumps out of the trunk to say good bye, jumping all over me and Jake just like when we first arrived. “Yes you’re such a good girl” he scruffs up her ears while giving her a kiss on the forehead. I gave Layla some belly rubs before his mom guided her back into the car.
“Please text me when you board, and call me when you land, I need to know that the two of you are safe.” said his mom. “Of course” we pulled her into one last hug. “I love you guys” she sobbed “I love you too” we said in unison as we walked towards to enterance, leaving his mom in the parking lot.
~~~~~~~~~~
The ride back home was hard for Jake. 10 hours of restlessness. The only time I saw Jake act kind of okay was at our layover in Manila. I tried to leave him be for most of the trip.
-
We landed at the airport in Seoul and made our way back through customs and immigration, I swear the process of getting out of the airport is more stressful than planing a trip itself. We load our things into my car, missing the excitement that Layla brought to the car ride.
Before we got into the car, Jake comes behind me and turns me around into a hug. “I am really worried about her… my parents have been together for so long I can’t imagine how she would react with out him” he cried into my arms. “Your mom is a strong woman, I know it. She has you and I know she will be able to get through it.” I rub his back and lay my head into the crook of his neck.
I walk him over to his door and open it, letting him get into is and rest, we still had a 45 minute drive back to our place. I just let him ‘rest’ his eyes the whole way and I sat in silence trying not to wake him. The ride was bumpy, or maybe I was more aware of my surroundings not given that Jake wasn’t talking my ear off the whole time. I don’t mean it as a bad thing but he does a great job at keeping me company in the car. But that element was absent this time.
We were outside of our house quicker than expected. Jake was still fast asleep, he looked up he most peaceful than I have seen him these past few weeks I really did not want to wake him up. “Jakey we’re here” I whisper and gently grip his shoulder. He groans. He untucks his arms from under his shirt and rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light.
We make way up to the door, he didn’t bother grabbing anything out of the car but I was completely okay with grabbing everything if it meant he would get some rest. As soon as we stepped in the door, he took off his shoes and hurried to his bedroom, he didn’t ever bother changing his clothes before plopping onto his bed in pure exhaustion.
I found myself following him to the bed and sitting on the edge and grazing his back with my fingernails. My hands made way up to his hair and I combed his strands with my fingers. He turns over to lay on his back and I sit and admire his beautiful face while his eyes are closed. So peaceful. I couldn’t fight the urge to lean down and give his a soft peck before heading back to the car.
He didn’t seem to mind, his lips were soft as they instantly melted into mine for a few seconds. He didn’t seem supprised or shocked at all. He made it feel natural. “Thank you” he said, barely audible. I leaned in for another kiss, a smile building on my face as our lips met. No verbal response was needed, my smile against his spoke for itself.
~~~~~~~~~~
We had gotten back into our normal work and school schedule following the break. I still was not seeing Jake as much as I would like and it seems like I was getting less and less information by the day on his dad, which worried me. I tried to call Mrs Sim every single day to check in and get updates, as well as update her on mine and Jake’s life. She treated me like a friend. Like a daughter. I am very thankful to be accepted by her in that way.
Jake was clearly getting more stressed with work and school and I couldn’t figure out a way to ease the stress for him, all I could do was hope that it wouldn’t end up being too much.
Mrs Sim told me briefly once while we were on a phone call that me and her call way more often that her and Jake do. Jake has always been a texter and his Mom simply had to deal with not hearing her baby boys voice as often as she would like, which is why it was weird when me and Jake were laying in my bed around 11pm and his phone starts ringing.
Both of us were on the verge of falling asleep and the light from his phone screen made the situation more uncomfortable. At first Jake just reached over and turned off the ringer.
“Hey did you even see who it was? What if it was important” I question his instinct to end the call. “Fine let me look” he groans.
He reached over and grabs his phone and looks at the screen ‘Mom’ is what it read. “Answer it!” I urged him. Jake was hesitant. I think he thought that this was going to be the call, which he has been preparing to avoid at all costs.
Instead of letting the line go to voicemail, I snatch the phone out of his hand and answer if myself. “Hello Mrs Sim, is everything alright?”
“I am so glad to hear your voice. Is Jake around? It is important. Put it on speaker” she said.
“You’re on speaker” I informed her.
“Jake, your father is home, I picked him up about an hour ago. The doctor said that septic shock caused him to go into the coma, and they were able to treat the infection and keep him steady with some blood and IV fluids. He woke up yesterday and has shown no signs of complication ever since. I will take him back in a few days for testing and a check up. They saved him Jake… They saved him.” His mother explained ecstatically, crying tears of happiness.
Jake’s face immediately lit up, with what I could see from the light of the phone screen. He instantly started crying.
“Baby I wish you were here right now. he misses you so much” he claimed.
Jake couldn’t even speak through his tears and his hitched breathing. “I love you so much mom, tell dad I love him and I will see him soon”
He sets the phone down and buries his face into my chest, letting out full on sobs. the toll that this situation has taken on his body physically and mentally was very obvious and I know he has been wanting good news.
~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks had passed and we came back to Australia for the Winter break. Jake was more excited than ever. When he saw his dad get out of the car at the airport, I had never see Jake run so fast in my life. Their hug seemed like it was out of a movie and he had been latched to his dad everyday since being back at his house.
His parents kind of picked up on me and Jake’s relationship, and didn’t question why I was wanting to sleep in Jake’s room and not the guest room any more.
We were laying there facing each other, admiring each others beauty in the dim moon light shining through the blinds.
“Tell me Jake, do you believe in fate?” I questioned lowly.
He looks somewhat startled. “Y’know, I have never really thought about that. After everything that has happened this year, I think I would say that I do” he confirmed, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
