All works on here are works of FICTION. I personally donât view the idols I write about as the characters Iâve developed. And I know a lot of writers, and have read a lot of pieces of work where authors have bent their characters morally just like I had.
I make sure to include warnings on all my pieces of work. So please before reading a fic, read the warnings because if you donât like it donât read it instead of sending the author repeated hate because youâre unhappy with their ending.
To the one person blowing up my asks with hateful messages. Iâm sorry you feel this strongly about the ending of bad desire. But please feel free to block me instead of hiding being anonymous asks, and trying to put me down and paint me negatively when you donât even know me.
This story was based loosely of real events that happened where I was the Jake in the scenario. And yet I still hold a lot of love for how it turned out, and how Jake was portrayed.
Thank you to everyone who liked it, and continues to support it!
PART ONE âââ you run a hate account against mayor!jake, but in real life? youâre his one and only favorite journalist that he has a big fat crush on. heâll also do anything to get you to interview him again and again (ŕšÂ°o°ŕš)
pairing downbad/mayor!jake x manhater/journalist!fem reader: youâre jakeâs #1 hater, while jake is your no 1 fan đ genre romcom crack smau, letâs not idolize politicians, same universe as my hoon smau âś warnings profanity, use of y/n, very chaotic lolđË ŕŁŞâš
( â°đŞ˝ ) ââ after husband!hoon, we have mayor!jake (as i teased in my hoon smau) <3 i had to delete some tweets bcuz the limit is till 30 only arghh T__T users hotgirlssupremacy & angelkisses r reader's acc! likes, comments, & reblogs r always appreciated <3 mwahh
( â°đŞ˝ ) ââ no divider again bcuz of the pic limit LMFAOO i didnt realize i went over 30 :'(( so for part 2, i'll add those parts that didnt make the cut ! ALSO after i post this, im making the hoon smau part 3 !
Engenes!! If you can plsplspls send handwritten or typed letters to their building address. Iâm not very sure if belift and hybe have the same address but Iâm gonna send a bunch of these. Preferably in both, English and Korean if you can but if not pls do it in English and send at least one. I have three pages for each language but yours doesnât have to be that long, as long as itâs addressing the issue and giving a solution, itâs totally fine.
Fighting and being loud and vocal is the least we can do for them.
I believe this is belift:
Seoul Special City, Dongdaemun-gu, Wangsan-ro 4, Donghwa Building 201, Roens Bookshelf Box #1117
Recipient: BELIFT LAB
Postal Code: 02582
Contact: 02-3444-0105
Hybeâs:
42 Hangang-daero
Yongsan-gu
Seoul 04389
South Korea
If you havenât signed the petition pls do: link
For those that I tagged, Iâm sorry if Iâm bothering and if itâs not too much to ask, pls pls repost this so that it can reach more people while im asking nicely (lol) jslsbdakjksk just kidding. HELP i just need to laugh so bad in all this mess.
Ik some of you donât like to be labeled as big or small acc, but letâs be real, the more followers the more people this will reach so pls pls help me spread this. Iâm begging u đâĽď¸đŤśđť I love each and everyone of u tysm
sooo I got pretty sick and itâs why I havenât updated in a hot minute. BUT Iâm really excited because I have a cute series in the works. Itâll feature all seven members.
I wonât spill too much but I will tell you it has something to do with music đ so make your speculations but I really hope itâll be a good one!
i missed you and all of tumblr too, that's why I am currently writing a sunghoon fic to FEED YALL!!!!! Hopefully the teaser will be out soon, I hope y'all will like it
Can i kiss you for how your writing is so unrealistically good, i love you so much ,i just finished reading bad desire and i cried at the two parts đ
SYNOPSIS ⢠after suffering a gruelling break-up, y/n vowed to start doing all the things her ex-boyfriend had never let her do before; partying, having fun, and making reckless decisions. during a usual night out, y/n spontaneously decides to try to get inked â which ultimately led her to meet lee heeseung, an independent tattoo artist. meeting heeseung was an embarrassing memory that y/n would like to forget (which she had forgotten by the next morning anyways considering she was completely hammered), however, after encountering each other again by chance â or luck if you call it that â heeseung decides heâs found the perfect canvas for his art; his next muse.
pairing ⢠tattoo artist! heeseung x party girl! reader
genre ⢠social media au (smau) + written, strangers to lovers, university au
contains ⢠profanity, suggestive [sexual] discourse, humour/crack, friendly bullying, highly suggestive scenes, smut (18+), story mainly occurs in NYC, luck as a symbolism like everywhere, alcohol and marijuana consumption, family issues, mentions of mental illness, flawed character(s), gets angsty later on.
featuring ⢠all of enhypen, yeonjun, beomgyu, and soobin of txt, giselle of aespa, yunjin and chaewon of le sserafim + some cameos of other idols
status: ongoing!
author's note: hii, this is my first smau + fic and i'm also rlly new to tumblr so pls lmk if there are any areas where i can improve on! i've always wanted to write but never had the platform to until i found this community on tumblr!! ANYWAYS enough yappin, i hope you enjoy this smau + fic, this took A LOT of detailed planning to come to life!!! <3
synopsis ; You were happy. You finally had the life and the love you always wanted. The love you thought you deserved. You got the guy, had an amazing job, and the best friend group you could ask for. So why did everything fall apart so easily the second you laid eyes on him?
In which y/n and heeseung's paths probably shouldn't have collided again. Once again we watch the way they navigate their way through a love that was never meant to last... or was it?
pairing ; jake x fem reader x addict!heeseung
genre ; smut, angst
[ part one ]
warnings ; mentions of drug use, smut, cheating, reader is very confused, mentions of parental death, their good ol back and fourth, will they wont they returns, jake is golden but also very naive, jay is such a good friend it hurts, fighting, flashbacks to the first fic, oral fem & male rec, the fic is pretty morally grey, characters act on impulse, less on rationale, jay covers for reader, reader thinks of someone else during sex, lowkey work relationship, jake is too good for this I swear, my heart broke for jake a bit, protected & unprotected sex (stay safe please), praise, love-making highkey.
do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact. there is a lot of heavy themes in this fic, so please read the warnings carefully before reading.
wc ; 25k
read below the cut!
The plane touches down with a soft jolt, and suddenly itâs real. Youâre back. You turn to Jake, and heâs already smiling at you, the same reassuring smile he gave you when you quit your job and packed your life into suitcases for this. His fingers brush over yours as the seatbelt sign dings off. âReady?â he murmurs. You nod. Youâve been gone for three years, but the nerves donât hit until youâre rolling your suitcase through the arrival doors of Incheon Airport.Â
You spot them before they see you, the same mismatched group that had made Seoul feel like home once. Jay with his hair grown out and tousled under a hoodie, Mina and Wren leaning into each other mid-laugh. Sunghoon in all black like itâs a uniform, Koda bouncing on his heels. And Kira, right in the center, holding a cardboard sign that reads Welcome Home, Losers in sharpie and glitter.
When they finally see you, the whole group erupts. Kiraâs the first to reach you, arms outstretched, nearly tackling you in the tightest hug imaginable. âTook you long enough, bitch,â she mumbles into your shoulder. Minaâs behind her, squealing, âYou cut your hair! Oh my god, you look so good, doesnât she look good?â Wren nods emphatically as she wraps you up in a hug of her own.
âOkay, okay, my turn,â Jay cuts in with a grin, pulling you into a hug that lingers for a second too long, familiar in all the right ways. You exhale into his shoulder, before pulling back, giving him a small smile. Sunghoon pats Jake on the back. âWelcome to Seoul, man.â Jake returns the gesture with a warm smile, shifting his arm around your waist like itâs second nature. âThanks, itâs good to be here.â The others greet Jake too, Koda ruffling his hair, Wren teasing him about surviving Australia with you, Jay offering a fist bump like itâs always been this way. Itâs seamless, how they fold the two of you into the group like nothingâs changed.Â
You donât say much in those first few moments. You just take it all in, the familiar faces, the laughter, the energy buzzing around you like electricity. Itâs warmth, Itâs belonging, Itâs the kind of joy that settles in your chest and stays there.
This is what home feels like.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The apartment smells like fresh paint and cardboard. Half-open boxes are scattered across the hardwood floor, your suitcase is still zipped in the corner, and your couch hasn't even arrived yet, but it already feels like home. Jakeâs unpacking dishes with an unnecessary amount of excitement, unwrapping each plate like itâs a birthday present. âI know itâs not much now,â he says, placing the second of four mismatched mugs into the cupboard, âbut weâre gonna make this place feel like us.â
You smile from where youâre perched on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs lightly. âIt already does,â you say, and you mean it. He turns to look at you, and for a second, he just... beams. Like seeing you sitting there is enough to make this whole life worth it. Jake crosses the small kitchen and settles between your legs, hands resting on your thighs. âYou sure youâre okay being back here?â he asks softly, eyes scanning your face like heâs looking for cracks youâve maybe missed yourself. You know what heâs asking. He doesnât say Heeseungâs name, he doesnât need to. The weight of your history with him doesnât vanish just because itâs unspoken.
âIâm okay,â you say, because you are. You feel steadier than youâve felt in a long time. âItâs been three years, Jake. Iâm not the girl I was back then. HeeseungâŚâ You trail off, searching for the right way to phrase it. âHeâs part of my past. A chapter I closed a long time ago.â Jake just nods, his thumb brushing along the hem of your hoodie. âI just know this place carries a lot for you. I donât want you to feel like you have to pretend it doesnât.â
âIâm not pretending.â You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, then another to the corner of his mouth. âIâm here with you. Thatâs all I care about.â He grins, smile basically reaching ear to ear. âGood. âCause I was just thinking we should turn this place into a Pinterest board.â You laugh, pushing at his chest. âAbsolutely not. You are not hanging fairy lights over our bed again.â
âOh come on,â he pouts, stepping back. âTheyâre romantic!â
âTheyâre a fire hazard,â you deadpan, and Jake only grins wider as he tackles the next moving box. You slide off the counter, padding over to help him as you both begin to make this new life together, shelving books, unpacking memories, and planting new ones as if theyâd always belonged here. As far as youâre concerned, the past is behind you. And as for Heeseung? You doubt you'll ever cross paths again.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The restaurant buzzes with laughter and clinking glasses, but your table is its own little world, a warm, glowing bubble of inside jokes and overlapping conversations. Youâre squeezed between Jake and Kira in a cozy corner booth, your thigh pressed against his under the table. Heâs in the middle of a story, something about him mistaking a pigeon for a drone in Sydney, which has Wren practically crying with laughter and Mina hiding her face in her hands.
âI swear it flapped like twice⌠a real pigeon would flap way more than twice,â Jake says, wide-eyed and gesturing like heâs reenacting a near-death experience. âWhat kind of drone flaps?â âOne thatâs about to shit on your head,â Sunghoon quips, grinning around the rim of his beer. Jake leans in close to you and mutters just loud enough for the table to hear, âI think Sunghoonâs bullying me.â Jay cuts in from across the table, arm thrown over the back of his chair, âThatâs not bullying, thatâs affection.â
âIt is,â Koda confirms, bumping Sunghoonâs shoulder. âTrust me. If he didnât make fun of you, thatâs when youâd have to worry.â Jake gasps dramatically. âWait. So you like me?â Sunghoon rolls his eyes, but heâs smiling. âDonât push it.â
You rest your head briefly on Jakeâs shoulder, cheeks sore from smiling. Itâs been like this all night, familiar and easy, like nothingâs changed. Like youâd never left. Jay catches your eye from across the table, his smile softening for a moment. You can tell heâs happy youâre back, and maybe a little relieved too. He and Jake had been deep in conversation earlier, trading playlist recs and bickering over their favorite soccer teams like they'd known each other their whole lives instead of a few years over video calls and group chats.
Itâs when the server brings out the last round of soju that the vibe shifts just a little. âTo Y/N,â Mina says, raising her glass. âFor surviving Australia, and for finally coming home.â Everyone clinks glasses, and Jake leans over to kiss your cheek with a quiet, âI love your friends.â
âYou mean our friends,â you correct, nudging his side. âYouâre stuck with them now.â His smile was genuine as he grabbed ahold of your hand. âIâm counting on it.â
The rest of the night is full of teasing and toast after toast, the kind that turn into speeches and spiral into laughter. Itâs not the life you imagined three years ago. But sitting here, surrounded by the people who feel like home, with Jakeâs hand wrapped gently around yours under the table, itâs a version of happiness you hadnât known to hope for. Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The morning light filters through gauzy curtains, painting your new apartment in sleepy gold. You stir under the sheets, the faint rustle of fabric and the smell of fresh laundry greeting you before the warm scent of Jakeâs cologne registers. You blink your eyes open slowly, stretching into the quiet hush of the morning.
You hear him before you see him, footsteps across the hardwood, the soft clang of a belt buckle. Heâs already up, already halfway dressed, humming something low under his breath as he adjusts his tie in the mirror. A gentle calm settles over you as you sit up and run your fingers through your hair, the haze of sleep still draped over your shoulders.
You slip out of bed and pad barefoot into the kitchen. The space still feels unfamiliar, boxes stacked in the corners, shelves mostly empty, but the coffee machine is exactly where it should be. You start it up, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard and pouring just the right amount of cream in his. Itâs domestic, natural. A kind of quiet intimacy that's bound to feel like muscle memory one day.
Jake walks in just as youâre plating some eggs and toast. Heâs wearing one of his navy suits, the jacket draped over his arm, hair freshly styled, tie slightly askew. You hand him the coffee with a soft smile, âGod, I donât deserve you,â he says with a grin, accepting it with both hands like itâs sacred. âYou say that every time I make breakfast.â
âBecause itâs true every time.â You both laugh, easy, and familiar. He sets the mug down and leans across the counter to press a kiss to your cheek, then one to your lips. Itâs soft and sleepy and slow, the kind of kiss that leaves you smiling afterward even when itâs gone. âSo, whatâs on the agenda for you today?â he asks between bites. You shrug, stealing a corner of his toast. âNot sure yet. Maybe find a cute cafĂŠ and journal for a bit. Wander around. Pretend Iâm the main character in a movie.â He chuckles. âYou are the main character.â You roll your eyes, but the way he says it makes your chest warm.
âText me if you get bored,â he adds, checking his phone and tossing on his jacket. âOr if you just want to tell me Iâm handsome.â
âOnly if you send a selfie first.â Jake kisses you one more time at the door, a longer kiss this time, with the faintest hesitation, like he doesnât really want to leave yet. Then he tugs the door open, throws you a wink over his shoulder, and disappears down the hall with the soft click of the door behind him. Youâre alone now, and the silence settles in.Â
You finish your coffee slowly, staring out the window at a city that used to be home, wondering what exactly today will bring.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The city feels different now, older, a little shinier, but still stitched with familiar corners and turns that tug at some tender parts of your memory. You spend the afternoon wandering. It starts with the corner convenience store where you grab a bottled drink and a steaming cup of instant ramen, the same kind you used to eat on study breaks when the university library closed early. The tangy broth and chewy noodles warm you from the inside out as you perch on a bench outside, headphones in, watching the blur of people pass.
You wander the streets aimlessly afterward, peeking into store windows, brushing fingertips across hanging racks in boutiques you donât remember but feel like you should. You take your time. This part of Seoul feels like a half-remembered dream. Some stores are new, some long gone, but the bones of the neighborhood hasnât changed, and you canât help but feel like youâre walking through a version of your past.
Eventually, you stop in front of a small cafĂŠ with ivy crawling up the brick walls and a painted sign that hasnât aged a day. Your heart stutters, this place. Itâs quiet inside. The scent of espresso and honeyed pastries wraps around you like a blanket. The cafĂŠ looks exactly as it used to, cozy lighting, mismatched chairs, walls lined with faded books and Polaroids. Behind the counter, the same elderly woman you remember beams at you like time hasnât passed at all.
âAh! Youâve come back,â she says, recognizing you instantly. âYou were always with the girl with the loud laugh.â You laugh with her, softly. âMina.â
âShe still laughs like that?â You nod, and it feels like returning to something you didnât realize you missed. You order your drink, a vanilla latte, just like you always used to, and when itâs ready you take it to a table by the window. The seat you and Mina used to race to claim. You open your laptop, fingers tapping softly against the keyboard as you scroll through job boards and workshop listings. A writing class catches your eye. Then a nonprofit with a bio researcher posting. You bookmark a few things, answer a couple of emails, and add to your journal doc.
The hours pass quickly, the latte slowly emptying. You stretch your arms above your head, craning your neck from side to side, and thatâs when you see a boy just a few tables away. His head down, scribbling furiously into the margins of a thick textbook. Hair mid length, a little messy, and heâs dressed in a plain hoodie and jeans. Nothing striking, not at first glance. But something about the shape of him, the way heâs hunched over his notes like the world doesnât exist outside the page, it tugs at you. Heâs familiar.
You tilt your head, trying not to stare. You canât see his face. And besides, your mind is playing tricks on you, right? You shake it off and return to your laptop. You spend another half hour reading articles, typing out a few scattered thoughts into your journal, then start packing up your things. You toss your cup in the bin and sling your bag over your shoulder, heading toward the door, Thatâs when he looks up.
You freeze mid-step, eyes locking. Your breath catches.
Lee Heeseung.
You donât stop walking. Your legs carry you out the door, the bell above it jingling faintly in your wake. You donât look back. Itâs only once youâre outside, surrounded by the noise of the city and the hum of your own pulse, that the realization truly hits.
You just saw Lee Heeseung.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The sunâs just beginning to dip behind the skyline as you, Koda, Sunghoon, and Jay tuck into a booth at one of your old favorite restaurants, the kind of cozy spot that always smelled like sizzling meat and nostalgia. Itâs one of those nights that feels warm around the edges, like a soft sweater pulled over your shoulders. Koda is animated beside Sunghoon, their hands brushing constantly as they flip through the menu, debating whether to order two or three platters.
You try to match their energy, smiling when they ask for your opinion, pretending your heart isnât doing somersaults in your chest. Jake had texted earlier, he had a late meeting, but he promised to join soon. So for now, itâs just the three of you⌠and Jay. He sits across from you, brows relaxed for once, scrolling through his phone idly as the waiter comes by and drops off a round of soju shots you donât remember ordering.
It should feel like an easy night, but your thoughts are far from the table. You wait until Koda and Sunghoon are deep into another back-and-forth about grilled pork versus brisket, then turn to Jay, keeping your voice low. âI saw Heeseung.â Jayâs thumb stops mid-scroll, you watch the tension ripple across his face before he looks up at you. Not shocked exactly, but not calm either. âWhen?â
âThis afternoon.â You take a slow breath. âAt that cafĂŠ Mina and I used to study at all the time. I didnât even recognize him at first. He was justâŚâ You shake your head, the image flashing behind your eyelids again. âHe looked so⌠focused. Like he was studying.â Jayâs eyes soften, his posture shifting forward. âAre you okay?â
âI think so.â You pause, fingers curling around the edge of your napkin. âI mean, I didnât talk to him. I donât even know if he saw me. I just left.â He exhales, running a hand through his hair. âI didnât think it would be that fast before you ran into him.â
âI didnât either. I was just wandering. I didnât think..â You cut yourself off and laugh dryly. âWell, I didnât think Iâd walk straight into the ghost of my past.â Jayâs lips twitch, but thereâs no amusement behind it, just concern. âYou couldâve texted me.â You nod. âI know. But I didnât know what to say.â For a beat, you both sit in silence. The kind that isnât uncomfortable, just weighted. âI guess I just wanted to knowâŚâ You hesitate, the words sitting heavy in your mouth. âWhatâs he been doing? I mean, youâre still close, right?â
Jay studies you. And this time, when he speaks, his voice is gentle. âY/N, I get it. I do. But⌠are you sure you want to start digging that up again?â A soft sigh leaves your lips, âI donât know,â you admit. âMaybe Iâm just curious. Maybe Iâm justâŚâ You sigh. âI donât know what Iâm doing.â Jay gives you a look, he can see right through you, especially when you wished he couldnât. âHeâs around,â Jay says finally. âStill here. Still figuring shit out.â You nod again, eyes falling to the table.
Jay leans forward. âYou sure youâre okay seeing him again?â You shrug. âIt was like looking at a version of him that doesnât exist anymore. He looked the same. But not. I donât even know if I saw the real him or just⌠who I used to love.â Jayâs expression is unreadable, but his hand settles on top of yours, reassuring. âYouâre not alone in this, you can always talk to me.â
Before you can answer, the door swings open and thereâs Jake, stepping inside with that easy smile and wind-blown hair, scanning the restaurant until he finds you. The moment his eyes land on yours, something in your chest relaxes. He weaves through the tables and drops into the booth beside you, pressing a kiss to your temple before slinging an arm across your shoulder. âHope I didnât miss anything important.â You blink, pulling yourself back into the moment. âNothing at all.â Jake starts chatting with Sunghoon and Koda about a new K-drama, Jay excuses himself to grab another round, and you lean into Jakeâs warmth, nodding along.
Youâre here, surrounded by people who you love and care for. Yet you canât place why, or how, but your mind hasnât quite left the cafĂŠ.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
You tell yourself itâs nothing.
That itâs just a cafĂŠ, a quiet one, with good lighting and decent coffee and memories that smell like steamed milk and the days of your university years. But your feet move without much thought, and youâre standing in front of that familiar doorway again, fingers hesitating on the glass like youâre not sure whether youâre about to walk into your past or just a fabricated coincidence pretending to be fate.
Inside, the air is warm. The same old radio station hums quietly beneath the soft clinking of cups. The sweet older woman at the counter offers you a smile and a little wave, still remembering your order from the previous day.
You get your drink, settle into a corner seat by the window. Pull out your laptop, open tabs, close them again. Type a few lines in a blank document, delete them. Click on job postings youâve already read twice.
Youâre not really here to work, and you hate that you know that.
Minutes pass. Then hours. The sun begins to shift through the windowpane, casting golden stripes across the wooden floor. You sip at your now-cold latte and glance toward the door every time it opens, hopeful, nervous, irritated at yourself more than anything.Â
What are you even doing?
You drag your fingers through your hair and exhale, quiet and sharp. What are you trying to accomplish here? What are you hoping to feel? Closure? Resolution? Another rupture? What would you even say if he walked in?
He ruined you. And yet here you are, lingering in a place youâd hope heâd be, scanning the door like your heartâs tethered to it. You feel pathetic.
And that feeling clings like smoke as you finally shut your laptop and slip it into your tote bag. You sling it over your shoulder, tossing your empty cup in the bin before heading for the exit.
You donât see him until youâve already pushed the door open, and your heart stops.
Heâs walking in, hoodie pulled over his head, backpack slung over one shoulder, hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans. His face is angled down at first, like heâs lost in a thought, or a song, or the ache of some sleepless night. But then his eyes lift, and you both freeze. Itâs like time stops.
Just like yesterday, the moment hangs suspended. Except this time, itâs not across a room, itâs face to face. Close enough to touch, close enough that you can see the flecks of warmth in his dark brown eyes, the ones that used to memorize every curve of your smile. His mouth parts slightly, and for a second, you think he might say nothing at all.
Then he actually does, âHey,â Heeseung says, his voice soft, almost confused to see you again. Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Not a greeting, not even a breath. You nod instead, barely, then you bolt.
Youâre walking down the street, around the corner, walking like your bones are on fire and your heart is somewhere between your throat and your knees. You donât look back. You can still hear the door chime echoing in your head. Still feel his eyes on you like gravity.
And you donât know what the hell youâre doing anymore.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
By the time you get home, the sun has sunk low, painting the sky in hues of lavender and gold. You can hear music playing faintly through the door as you unlock it, something soft and upbeat, Jakeâs âcookingâ playlist, the one he curated specifically to dance around the kitchen like heâs on a cooking show. You step inside and there he is, still in his slacks from work but the tie is gone, sleeves rolled up, hair a little messy like heâs run his hand through it one too many times. The kitchen smells like garlic and herbs and something just slightly burnt.
âHey, baby,â Jake calls out, flashing you that puppy-dog grin as he stirs something in a pan. âPerfect timing. Dinnerâs almost ready.â You smile. âSomething smells amazing.â
âProbably the garlic bread I forgot in the oven,â he laughs, and you roll your eyes as you set your bag down. âHow was your day?â Thereâs a pause, just a beat too long, but you nod and say, âIt was good. Quiet. I wandered around the city a little.â
Jake walks over, kisses your forehead. âDid you eat anything while you were out?â
âI had a bagel at a cafe,â you say, moving to lean against the counter as he returns to the stove. âNothing fancy.â He shoots you a dramatic look. âBagel? The disrespect. Iâm making you proper food. You deserve proper food.â You laugh, and itâs genuine. Being with Jake is easy, and warm. Like a well-worn sweatshirt or your favorite late-night show. Heâs thoughtful and kind and constantly trying to make sure youâre okay. And in this moment, as he spins back around with two plates in hand and sets them at the table, itâs hard not to wonder what your life would look like if you could just shut the door on your past completely.
But you canât.
Because somewhere in the back of your mind, tucked away in your heart are those same eyes, just as you left them, meeting yours in a doorway you wish you hadnât walked through. Jake pours you a glass of wine, nudging your plate closer. âTo finally having a night to ourselves,â he says, lifting his glass. You clink yours against his and force your smile to reach your eyes.
He keeps the conversation light, funny stories from work, gentle teasing, asking what cafes you liked and if you found any cute shops. You tell him about a few stores you encountered, but you didnât dare mention the cafe, and certainly didnât mention your encounter with Heeseung. Or the way your pulse betrayed you when your eyes finally met. Jake doesn't notice. He wouldnât, you were doing a good job, laughing at the right moments, brushing your foot against his under the table, leaning into him when he presses a kiss to your temple. But youâre not fully there.
Youâre still standing across from him. Still standing in a doorway with your heart lodged in your throat. And even though youâre having dinner with the perfect man for youâŚ
You canât stop thinking about Lee Heeseung.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The restaurant is tucked into a narrow side street, one you wouldnât have remembered if Mina hadnât texted the exact address. But as soon as you step inside, the cozy wooden interior, the clinking of cutlery against porcelain, and the smell of something sweet baking behind the counter all feel achingly familiar.
âY/N!â Kiraâs voice cuts through the gentle hum of lunchtime conversation, and you spot her waving you over from a corner booth near the window. Minaâs already seated, sipping on an iced Americano with her phone face-down on the table, a smug little grin tugging at her lips. Kira slides over so you can join them, and you laugh as you shrug off your coat and take a seat.
âYou look so domestic now,â Mina teases, eyeing your beige knit sweater and low bun. âLiving with Jake has changed you.â
âShut up,â you laugh, stealing one of her fries. âYou look like youâre about to pitch a business plan.â
âThatâs because we literally work in an office now,â Kira says, adjusting her blouse with exaggerated flair. âWeâre corporate girlies.â
You smile, letting the easy rhythm of the conversation wash over you. It feels good to laugh with them, a lot better than spending the entire day haunted by Heeseung. âSo what are you doing these days?â Kira asks, flicking her straw wrapper at you. âYouâre just in your mysterious in-between era?â
âBasically,â you admit, leaning back in your seat. âIâm figuring it out. Kind of wandering, kind of procrastinating. Jake says itâs fine to take a beat, but I donât know. I donât really want to sit around doing nothing forever.â Mina chimes in now, âYou should do something, even if itâs just part-time. Actually that reminds meâŚâ She sets her drink down and sits up straighter, clearly remembering something. âI ran into Professor Bae the other day.â
You blink. âBusiness psychology Professor Bae?â
âYes,â she says, eyes lighting up. âSheâs looking for a TA. Said she needs someone responsible and well-organized, which I mean, screams you.â Kira snorts. âShe once made us write a six-page essay about our biggest regrets just so she could âlearn our cognitive defense mechanisms.ââ Your smile starts to grow as the memories of that class start flooding in, âOh my god,â you say with a laugh. âI remember that. I actually kind of liked her, though.â
âYou would,â Mina says, pointing at you with her straw. âYou were her favorite.â
âShe did give you that recommendation letter faster than the rest of us,â Kira adds with a grin. You pause, the laughter fading into a thoughtful silence. The idea sticks in your mind, gentle but persistent. Being back in an academic setting, even in a small role feels like it could be good for you. âMaybe Iâll apply,â you say, slowly. âJust to have something to do. It might be nice.â
âYou totally should,â Mina says, nudging you. âBetter than sitting around doing nothing.â It's time to start putting roots down again. Maybe a TA gig would be a good distraction.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
You never expected to feel so at home standing in front of a chalkboard again. The empty lecture hall buzzes faintly with fluorescent lights, the air a little too cold, the projector humming softly behind you. But it feels nostalgic in a way you didnât realize youâd missed.
Professor Bae stands beside you, still dressed in the same structured blazers and sleek heels you remember from your undergrad days. She hasnât changed a bit, sharp-eyed and soft-voiced, someone who can dissect your subconscious in three sentences or less and still make you feel like sheâs rooting for you. âYou were always one of my sharpest students,â she says, clicking through her slides. âI knew youâd come back to me someday.â You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder. âApparently I canât stay away.â She smiles. âWell, Iâm glad youâre here.â
Students begin trickling in, backpacks slung over shoulders, conversations buzzing around you as bodies fill the room. You take a seat near the front, just off to the side, and flip open your laptop. Everythingâs prepped, the lesson plan, the rubric, the handout you carefully retyped last night for the infamous essay assignment. Youâre in the middle of updating the attendance sheet when the door clicks open again.
âI was beginning to think you'd overslept again, Mr. Lee,â Professor Bae says aloud, not looking up from her tablet. âThank you for joining us.â You didnât think much of it, you went to the attendance list looking for the surname âLeeâ . That's when your eyes caught the name. You glance up, heart in your throat, and there he is.
Lee Heeseung.
He walks into the room like a ghost, like a slow-motion scene in a film where time folds in on itself. He doesnât notice you. Just slips into an empty seat near the back and leans over his desk, pulling out a notebook, one earbud still tucked in. Your blood feels cold. How the hell is he here? How is he everywhere? You stare for a second too long before forcing your attention back to your screen, trying not to think about how the universe has clearly declared war on your peace of mind.Â
Halfway through the lesson, Professor Bae nods to you, and you stand to distribute the first assignment: a self-reflective essay on personal regrets. You pass out the instruction sheets row by row, silent as Professor Bae explained the assignments expectations. Then you reach the back row, Heeseung is slouched in his seat, fingers idly tapping his pen on the surface of the desk. He doesnât look up at first. But the moment you place the sheet in front of him, his head lifts.
The air between you shifts as your eyes meet. Neither of you says anything, you just hold his stare for a second too long. But, you walk away before anything else can happen between you. Back at the front of the class, Professor Bae addresses the room again. âBefore we continue, Iâd like to formally introduce my new teaching assistant. Some of you might know her name from the alumni forums, Y/N will be supporting this class moving forward. Sheâll be holding office hours on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and will assist with grading and support. Please donât hesitate to reach out.â
You smile politely, folding your hands in your lap as every eye turns toward you. âLooking forward to working with you all,â you manage. You sit down and take a breath, trying to force yourself not to glance back to the eyes you can feel burning into your head.
But you fail again and again, and so does he. You donât know what Heeseungâs doing in this class, or why fate keeps playing this cruel little game with you, but all you can do now is watch and wonder. The universe keeps pushing you two together, like itâs having fun tormenting you. Heeseung was a part of the past you planned to keep buried away forever, but now he's sitting a few rows back from you staring at you like he couldnât believe you were real.
And at this point, youâre starting to wish you werenât.Â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
Class ends with the usual rustle of notebooks closing and chairs scraping against the floor. Professor Bae gives you a soft smile and a wave on her way out, the last of the students trailing after her with assignment sheets in hand and earbuds already in. You stay seated, carefully organizing your things, partly because you want to look busy, and partly because you wanted the room to completely clear before you got up to leave. But to your dismay, you donât even have to look up to know heâs still here. The moment the weight of footsteps slows, the air subtly shifts again, like your body is attuned to his even now. âHey.â
The voice is unmistakable. Low. Rough in the way that feels like it always carries unsaid things. You look up slowly, Heeseung stands a few feet from you, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, hair falling into his eyes. His expression is guarded but soft. Thereâs an edge of nervousness behind it, like heâs not sure if youâre going to ignore him or slap him.
âYou left the cafĂŠ the other day,â he says. âDidnât give me a chance to ask how youâve been.â You merely blink, you werenât expecting him to bring it up so casually. Still, you nod slightly. âI, um⌠yeah. I guess I wasnât expecting to see you.â He shrugs one shoulder. âSame.â
A pause lies between the two of you, then he tries again, voice quieter. âItâs been a long time.â You nod, lips pressing into a thin line. âYeah. It has.â Heeseung shifts his weight from one foot to the other, still not taking his hands out of his pockets. âSo⌠whatâve you been up to?â You glance back at your half-zipped bag, pretending to think even though the answer comes easily. âI moved back,â you say, then hesitate before adding, âwith my boyfriend. Jake.â Thereâs a moment, itâs not long. Barely a second. But something flickers in his expression. A quiet drop of something into still water. Then itâs gone. He covers it quickly with a tight-lipped nod, his eyes darting to the floor for just a second.
âCool,â he says. âThatâs⌠cool.â You hate how awkward it feels. How stiff. But you also hate how easy it still is to look at him. Like no time has passed at all. You zip the rest of your bag, shifting the conversation before you can overanalyze it. âWhat about you? Whatâre you doing here? I thought you said school was a waste of time.â He huffs a soft laugh at that, rubbing the back of his neck. âYeah, well. People change.â
You tilt your head, curious. âI kicked coke,â he says plainly. âStill smoke sometimes, but⌠yâknow. Progress.â His tone is light, like heâs making a joke out of it, but his eyes betray him. Your smile is small, but polite, âThatâs⌠good. Iâm glad.â He nods again, looking around the empty room like heâs trying to figure out how much more he can say before overstaying his welcome. âItâs good to see you,â he says at last. âReally.â Your eyes meet his, in a glance that felt too deep for the two of you to share, âYou too.â
He lingers for a second, like he wants to say something else, but instead he just nods once more and turns toward the door. You watch him walk out. Only when the door swings shut behind him do you exhale. You finish packing your things, the silence of the room settling like dust over your shoulders. And even as you make your way out, feet heavy, heart heavier, you can still feel the weight of his gaze, the weight of every memory flooding in, and you had no idea how you were going to re-seal the scars you worked so hard closing in the first place.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The week comes and goes fairly quickly, and next thing you know itâs Saturday. You and Jake spend the morning doing what couples do, grocery shopping, picking out which brand of oat milk is less terrible, arguing (lightheartedly) over whether or not itâs normal to buy six different types of instant ramen. Heâs got a cart, and youâve got the list. But your head isnât really in it.
Even as Jake holds up a bundle of parsley and asks if thatâs what you meant by âa cute herb for the kitchen,â your mind is elsewhere, thoughts revolving around Heeseung. You barely register Jake grabbing the last of the groceries or driving the two of you home. You help carry the bags in, start unpacking them into the fridge, but your hands move on autopilot. Youâre discarding bags and sorting snacks like your brainâs still sitting in that lecture hall. âBabe?â Jakeâs voice is soft behind you as it cuts through your thoughts. You pause, hand hovering over a carton of eggs. âHmm?â
âEverything okay?â You glance at him over your shoulder. His hairâs a little tousled, his white tee slightly wrinkled from earlier when he insisted on carrying all the heavy bags by himself. His face is all concern, and only then you realize how off youâve been acting. âYeah,â you lie. âJust tired.â He tilts his head like heâs trying to read the truth written in the lines of your face. âYou sure?â he asks again. âYouâve seemed⌠off all week.â
You close the fridge slowly. âIâm fine, I think I'm just adjusting to being back in Korea.â Jake steps closer, not pressing, but his presence is warm, grounding. âYou donât have to tell me if you donât want to,â he says gently. âBut if something happened⌠whenever youâre ready to talk about it, Iâm here.â You hate how good he is. How kind. How easy it is to love him. He leans in and kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat, and when he pulls back youâre smiling in spite of yourself. âI know,â you whisper.
The rest of the afternoon moves along easily, quiet music plays while you finish unpacking the last few boxes, Jake making jokes here and there, even as the two of you stopped to reminisce over a photo album you found of your adventures in Sydney.
Amongst the chaos of unpacking, your group of friends insisted you canât let the good weather go to waste, and itâs how the two of you got roped into a beach day. When you arrive, Jakeâs already tugging off his shirt and running toward the water with Sunghoon, their laughter echoing across the sand. Wren, Kira, Mina, and Koda are farther down the shoreline, digging their hands into the sand to build⌠something vaguely resembling a castle with far too much competitive energy.
You choose to spread your towel out next to Jay, whoâs already lying on his back, arms folded under his head, sunglasses reflecting the soft clouds overhead. The two of you say nothing for a long moment. The sound of the waves fills the silence, along with Jake yelling something at Sunghoon about being a âcheaterâ and getting splashed in return.
Then Jay breaks the silence. âHeeseung told me youâre his new TA.â You groan immediately, laying back onto your towel with a dramatic sigh. âI swear to God, I canât escape him.â Jay turns his head toward you, a laugh managing to escape his lips, âDamn.â
âHe talked to me after too,â you add. âNothing weird. Just⌠normal stuff. It was fine. But itâs weird, right? Heâs just⌠around.â
âThereâs no avoiding him now,â Jay agrees, sitting up and brushing the sand off his arms. âI mean, not unless you quit, and I know you wonât.â You look over at him. âCan we⌠not tell Jake?â Jay raises a brow, not in a judgemental way, but almost like heâs curious as to why this needs to be kept a secret. âPlease,â you add. âItâs nothing. I just donât even want it to be anything. But I know how he is⌠heâll start worrying, and I just donât want that.â Jay sighs, nods. âOkay. I wonât say anything.â
Youâre quiet for another moment before you ask, âWhy didnât you tell me he quit?â Jay leans back on his elbows. âI didnât think it would help. You were doing good. I didnât wanna give you something to second-guess.â You chew on the inside of your cheek. You get it, and if anything Jay was probably right.
Before you can respond, Koda and Kira come skipping across the sand, each holding two dripping cones of ice cream. âDonât say we never do anything for you!â Koda grins as she passes you one.
Kira hands one to Jay with a wink. âYou looked parched.â You all laugh as Jay yells back that ice cream wonât help with him being parched, and just like that the conversation is over. Even as Jake returns to your side, hair wet and hand brushing yours, you know you have to forget all about Heeseung, all about what you two once were.
Because thatâs simply what it was. You and Heeseung were then. Jake is now.Â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
Mondayâs sun filters in through the windows of the lecture hall, hazy and pale, like it knows you didnât sleep well last night. You sit in your usual spot at the front, following along with Professor Baeâs slides, jotting mental notes on where the pacing might drag and which questions youâll inevitably get during office hours. But your concentration is splintered, every time she turns her back to write something on the board, your eyes betray you. They drift to the third row, end seat. Heeseungâs seat.
He's there, like always lately, leaned back in his chair, notebook half-heartedly open, chewing on the end of a pen like heâs pretending to pay attention. Like he isnât fully aware youâve looked his way. You snap your gaze back to your laptop. Focus, you tell yourself. Jake. Your job. Your life. Not him, not anymore.
Class ends without incident. You and Professor Bae walk together to the office, her talking animatedly about a potential guest lecturer she wants to bring in, and you nod along, grateful for something else to think about. She heads out for a meeting, leaving you to your usual office hours, and for the first time all day you manage to breathe. Itâs quiet at first. A couple of students trickle in, asking for clarification on slides, due dates, rubric points. You answer every question with a smile and a practiced ease. Youâre good at this. This is what you came here for. It feels like a piece of your old self, one that doesnât orbit around the memory of a boy who once shattered your entire world.
You're halfway through responding to an email when you hear footsteps outside your door. You donât look up at first, âHi, come in,â you call absently, eyes still scanning the screen. âWhat can I help you with?â But then silence follows your words, so you glance up.
Heeseung.
Heâs standing in your doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder, hair falling in his eyes, lips parted like he wasnât entirely sure heâd make it here. Your breath catches. You swallow and glance at the clock. Five minutes until office hours end. âWhat can I assist you with, Mr. Lee?â you ask, voice a little too high, too clipped, formal like a shield. Then you wince. âSorry. That was⌠weird.â
He walks in slowly, closing the door behind him. âCan we talk?â You donât answer immediately. You grip your pen tighter, stare down at the paper in front of you like it holds the answer. âYou know thatâs not a good idea.â Heeseung leans against the desk across from yours, arms folded. âI know. But I canât just sit in class three times a week pretending like youâre not there.â
âThereâs nothing to talk about,â you say, more forcefully than you mean to. âIt was a long time ago, Heeseung. Iâve moved on.â He raises a brow. âReally?â You shoot him a look. âYes. I have a boyfriend. A life.â Heâs quiet for a second, but it only lasts for a moment before the sharp words leave his lips, âThen why do you keep staring at me like that?â You open your mouth to respond, but the door opens instead.
âBabe?â
Your stomach drops.
Jake.
Heâs standing in the doorway, all radiant smiles and messy post-work hair, holding a coffee he probably bought for you on the way over. Your heart lurches. âJake,â you say quickly, standing up. âWhat are you doing here?â
âI got off early,â he says, eyes bright. âThought Iâd surprise my girlfriend. Didnât know you were still with a student.â He looks to Heeseung, and Heeseung turns, meeting Jakeâs gaze directly. Heeseung looks like heâs about to speak, so you act on instinct. âThis is Beomgyu,â you blurt out, your voice a little too loud. Heeseungâs eyes narrow at you, and Jake smiles warmly, offering a hand. âNice to meet you, man.â Heeseung stares at the outstretched hand, then takes it. âYou too.â
You force a laugh. âJake, do you mind just stepping out for a second? I just have to wrap this up.â âYeah, of course,â Jake says easily, kissing your cheek. âIâll wait out front.â As soon as the door shuts behind him, you whirl around. âWhat the hell was that?â Heeseung asks, incredulous. âI panicked.â
âYou called me Beomgyu!â You feel your cheeks flush red, âYou didnât say your name, I had to think fast.â He steps toward you. âWhy lie to him?â You know you shouldnât have, but you canât imagine how Jake would feel if he knew that Heeseung was really him. âBecause this isnât something I want to explain!â you hiss. âBecause he doesnât need to know youâre in the class I TA for.â He stares at you, visibly stung. âRight,â he mutters. âWhy are you so afraid of him knowing we talked?â
You donât answer, so Heeseung takes the opportunity to speak again, âI need to see you,â he says. âJust once. One real conversation. Then you can go back to pretending I donât exist.â
âWe canât.â You say, voice strained. Itâs the first time in this conversation that your tone has betrayed you. You want to talk to him, but you know how the two of you are. âWhy?â He was practically pleading, his voice just as raw as yours. âBecause we donât know how to be acquaintances,â you say, voice barely above a whisper. âBecause thereâs too much history. You hurt me, Heeseung. I can't just forget that.â
Heeseung takes a shaky breath, like he might argue again, but then something shifts in his expression. He steps back, head nodding slowly. âRight,â he says. âThanks for the clarification, Ms. L/N.â He walks out before you can say anything else, letting the door shut behind him.
Youâre still staring at the spot he just stood in when Jake comes back in, coffee still in hand, eyes full of something softer. âBeomgyu seemed intense,â he says, trying to lighten the mood. You laugh weakly. âYou have no idea.â
Jake leans in and starts peppering kisses across your face, forehead, cheek, jaw, until youâre finally smiling again. âCâmon,â he murmurs. âLetâs go home. Get changed. Eat ramen, and watch the next episode of Business Proposal.â You melt into him, into that warmth and simplicity. âOkay,â you whisper. And as you gather your things, you try to remind yourself Jake is here. Heâs real. Heâs safe. But it doesnât stop the echo of Heeseungâs voice from following you all the way home.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
âThen say it,â you whisper. âSay you donât want this. Say you donât want me.â He turns slowly, and something in his face softens. It almost breaks you. âI do want you,â he admits. âBut I want this too.â He gestures vaguely to the room, the remnants of his high, the destruction he clings to like a security blanket. âAnd that makes me a monster.â
You step back like the words physically hurt. âYou said I was your angel.â
âYou are.â His voice cracks. âWhich is why I need you to go.â You shake your head. âYou told me you loved me.â
âI do,â he breathes. âGod, I do. But Iâll ruin you.â
You wake up with a gasp, the air in your lungs sharp and cold like the moment had been stolen from you. Your body jolts upright, heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears. It takes a second to remember where you are, warm sheets, the dim blue glow from the window, and the slow, steady breathing beside you.
Jake stirs instantly. âBaby?â he mumbles, voice raspy with sleep. His arm reaches out to feel for you. âYou okay?â You try to calm your breathing as you clutch the blanket against your chest. âYeah,â you whisper, voice too soft to sound convincing. âJust a dream. Go back to sleep.â He shifts, eyes barely open, not quite awake enough to question you further. His hand briefly finds yours, gives it a small squeeze, and then heâs gone again, drifting back into the comfort of sleep.
You slip out of bed quietly, careful not to wake him. The apartment is still and dark as you move through the living room, your bare feet silent against the wood floor. You flick on the kitchen light, and grab a water bottle from the fridge. You twist the cap off and take a long sip, grounding yourself in the silence, in the ordinary act of existing. But your mind is still spinning.
It wasnât just a dream.
It was a memory that burned into your chest like a brand. That look in his eyes when he told you to go. The way you begged him to try, the way you begged him to love you. God, it had been so real. You walk into the living room and curl up on the couch, legs tucked under you, water bottle clutched in your hands. The dream lingers like fog, sticking to your skin. You need to clear your mind.
You unlock your phone without thinking. At first, itâs pictures of Jake. You and him at the beach, him cooking dinner with a ridiculous apron on, that one photo he insisted on taking with you in front of the Sydney Opera House. You let out a quiet breath through your nose, trying to smile. Jake is good. Kind. Golden. You have something so beautiful with him, something healthy and stable.
And yet you swipe higher, up past the glow of your current life, until you hit a different kind of light, one that burned too hot, too fast. Photos you havenât dared to look at in years. You and him lying on his floor, laughing so hard your faces were red. A selfie he took where he looked like he was in love and didnât care who knew.Â
Your throat tightens. You shouldnât still feel this way. Not after everything he did. Not after everything youâve built with Jake. But part of you still reaches for him in the dark. Even when you push away how you clearly still feel about him. Even when you promise yourself youâre done. The guilt starts to bloom, sharp and heavy. It isnât fair to Jake, to yourself. Heeseung hurt you. Over and over again. You should hate him, but you can't.
Eventually, you slip back into the bedroom, the weight of your thoughts following you like a shadow. Jakeâs turned onto his side now, his arm reaching unconsciously toward your empty spot. You ease back under the covers and let his arm drape over you again. He stirs just enough to press his face into your shoulder. âLove you,â he murmurs, barely audible. Your heart aches, or swells, at this point youâre not too sure. You press a soft kiss to his shoulder, âI love you too,â you whisper. But even as you lay next to everything you wanted Heeseung to be, the ache doesnât quite disappear.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The next week breezes by in a flurry of soft mornings, quiet evenings, and carefully constructed avoidance. You ignore every glance, every hesitation, every attempt Heeseung makes to close the growing distance between you. You donât look at him in class. You donât wait to see if heâll try to talk to you after. You bury yourself in the life youâve built with Jake like itâs your sanctuary.
You bring him lunch on your days off, showing up to his office with a smile and homemade kimbap in a little bento box. He kisses you like youâre the center of his universe, and you pretend itâs enough to keep you grounded. You cook dinner most nights too, miso salmon with sticky rice, spicy pork bulgogi that makes him groan in appreciation and call you wife material in a way that makes your stomach flutter. You even plan at-home date nights. Movie marathons. Matching pajamas. Painting canvases youâll never hang up. And every time Jake smiles at you, itâs genuine. It's warm and golden and safe.
But that doesnât stop the storm inside your chest from brewing every time you walk into lecture and feel Heeseung's presence like static in the air. Today is no different. Youâre seated beside Professor Bae, her tablet propped up as you go over assignment tracking and grading notes together. Your outfit is sleek and professional, fitted dress, and a cream cardigan. You look good. The class is humming in the background with soft chatter and rustling notebooks.Â
âSay that again, you fucking piece of shit. I dare you.â The voice cracks through the air like a whip. You flinch and recognize it instantly. Heeseung.
Your eyes snap up. Chairs scrape back. Everyone turns. And there he is, shoving a guy hard against the desk, fist curled in the front of his shirt, his jaw clenched like heâs barely holding it together. The kid coughs, caught off guard. âDude, chill!â
âWhat the hell is going on?â Professor Bae demands, already on her feet. You rise too, frozen, breath caught in your chest. Heeseungâs voice is a low snarl, fury vibrating beneath every word. âHe said he was going to fuck Y/N against her desk next time he went to office hours, whether she wanted it or not.â Your heart drops and the room goes completely silent. Professor Baeâs face twists in pure disgust. âIs that true?â she asks the boy next to the one Heeseung still has by the collar. The poor kid looks terrified. âY-Yeah. Yeah, maâam. He said it.â
Professor Bae doesnât hesitate. âYouâre coming with me. Now. To the Deanâs office.â She levels her glare at the boy. âAnd pray this doesnât escalate to a disciplinary board.â She turns to the rest of the room. âClass dismissed.â Thereâs a flurry of motion. Students collecting their bags, whispering in shock. You stand still, every nerve in your body ringing. It takes a moment to realize the roomâs nearly empty now, except for you and Heeseung.
Heâs breathing hard, his knuckles still tight from where they curled into the guyâs shirt. His eyes finally meet yours. âIâm sorry,â he says, voice low, rough, like itâs clawing out of his throat. âBut I couldnât let him talk about you like that. I couldnât fucking stand it.â
âWhat the hell were you thinking?â Your voice shakes as you stalk toward him. âYou canât just start fights in the middle of a classroom⌠Jesus, Heeseung.â
âI wasnât thinking,â he admits. âI just heard him say that shit and my brain flipped.â Heat rises to your cheeks as the anger in your heart burns, âYou couldâve gotten expelled!â Thereâs a scoff that leaves his lips, âYou think I care?â he bites back. âYou think I give a fuck about that when someone talks about you like that?â Now itâs your turn to snap, âYeah, I do!â You yell, shoving a hand through your hair. âBecause you donât just get to act like some protector and get yourself kicked out of university!â
He falters for a second. You keep going, chest heaving. âIf that guyâs friend hadnât backed you up, youâd be under investigation! Youâd be out of school, no credits, no diploma and for what? To defend me?â The words hang in the air like smoke. Heeseungâs eyes darken and he takes a step closer. âWhy do you care?â he asks, voice low, dangerous, barely a whisper between your faces. You stare at him. You can smell him again. His cologne, the one he always wore without fail. Your breath catches, and his eyes flicker to your lips.
âWhy do you care what happens to me, Y/N?â he murmurs. âYou got the dream. Youâve got the job, the sweet boyfriend, the pretty little life. Why does it matter if I crash and burn?â You donât answer, you canât.
Because heâs right, and heâs wrong, but the ache in your chest wonât tell you which is which. You inhale like you're about to say something but then you break. You take a step back, walk to your desk and grab your bag. Heeseung doesnât stop you as you turn to leave. He doesnât say a thing as you disappear through the door and leave him behind in the empty classroom.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
You barely remember walking through the door. Your brain is still back in that lecture hall with the sound of Heeseungâs voice, gravel-deep and furious, snapping âDonât you ever fucking talk about her like that again.â Still caught in the way his eyes searched yours. Still stuck in the way he asked, âWhy do you care?â God, Why do you care?
Now youâre standing in the doorway of your apartment, chest heaving, skin hot under your clothes. And Jake is there. Heâs in the kitchen, barefoot, sleeves rolled up, humming something under his breath as he stirs dinner. Thereâs a soft glow from the stove, something fragrant in the air, and the second he hears the door close, he turns around with that smile, that warm, golden, Jake smile and says, âHey, baby-â
You donât even let him finish. You drop your bag, cross the room in a few fast strides, and kiss him like heâs the only thing tethering you to earth. Itâs messy, urgent. All teeth and heat and hands. Your fingers fist into the collar of his t-shirt and you press your body flush against his, chasing anything to quiet the ache clawing through your chest. Jake freezes for half a second, lips parting in shock before his hands settle instinctively on your waist. He grins against your mouth, a little breathless. âWhoa⌠did someone miss me or something?â You nod your head, eyes already hazy, and kiss him again, deeper this time, more demanding. Like you need him to burn the memory out of your head. You tug at the hem of his shirt, nails grazing the skin beneath, and whisper against his lips, âI need you.â
Jakeâs hands tighten on your hips. âYeah?â he murmurs, voice already low. âHere I thought I was the one who had a long day.â You donât respond with words. You just slide your hands under his shirt, your lips skimming the corner of his jaw, and Jake lets out a soft curse before lifting you by the thighs and setting you down on the kitchen counter. You spread your legs to make space for him, and he steps in close, standing between your knees as he presses his forehead to yours. âYou okay?â he asks, softer this time. You nod too quickly. âIâm fine.â Itâs a lie, but he doesnât call you on it. He studies you for a second longer, like he knows thereâs something lurking just beneath the surface and then just leans in to kiss you again. This time slower, and sweeter. But it doesnât stay that way.
Because youâre not kissing him to be sweet. Youâre kissing him to forget. His lips move hungrily over yours, hands pushing under your shirt, trailing fire along your sides. Heâs warm, steady, grounding, everything Heeseung isnât. You curl your fingers in his hair and pull him closer, like if you press yourself into him hard enough, itâll erase every single trace of the storm you left behind.
Your lips move with his in practiced rhythm, like youâve kissed him a hundred times, because you have. Jakeâs hands are warm against your skin, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, and before you even realize it, the fabric is lifted over your head in one fluid motion. His fingers make quick work of your bra clasp, the straps slipping from your shoulders like silk. He scoops you up again, his grip secure under your thighs, and carries you across the room like you weigh nothing. You melt into him as he lays you down on the couch, the world quieting around the sound of his soft, loving sighs.
Jake crawls over you, lips trailing a hot path from your collarbone to the swell of your chest. He doesnât hesitate, he never does. His mouth finds your nipple, tongue circling before sucking gently, hands smoothing up your sides to cup and massage the soft flesh of your breasts. The wet heat of his tongue flicks over the sensitive bud again and again, slow and attentive, like heâs memorizing you. A soft whimper escapes you. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he moves to the other breast, repeating the same tender worship that makes your head fog. His lips eventually climb back up your neck, kissing gently until he finds your mouth again, swallowing the sounds you make as he grinds down onto you.
You feel him, hard and needy through the layers of clothing and your hips arch instinctively to meet his. âJakeâŚâ you whisper against his lips, breathless. âPlease. Just fuck me.â He pauses, pulling back just enough to search your face. His brows furrow for a brief second, like heâs making sure you really want this. Then he nods, eyes soft, and moves quickly, tugging off both your pants and his own. You watch him disappear down the hall to grab a condom, and for a moment, you're left there in the stillness. Thatâs when the thoughts start.
Jake. Heeseung. Jake. Heeseung. What the fuck are you doing?
You shut your eyes tight, fists clenched in the cushions, trying to silence the ache in your chest. But itâs louder than ever. The memory of his chain necklace glinting in soft light. His voice whispering your name like a curse. His hands that made you feel ruined and worshipped all at once. Jake returned, a condom already rolled on, and a smile on his lips meant only for you. You force yourself to smile back as he lowers his body over yours, his cock sliding through your folds, teasing. âI love you,â he murmurs, so sincerely it makes your heart lurch. You nod, voice quiet. âI love you too, baby.â
Another tender kiss was placed to your lips. Jakeâs everything youâre supposed to want. He lines himself up and pushes in slowly, and you gasp, not from the stretch, but from how fast your mind leaves the room. Because all you can see is another face. His eyes locked on yours as he bottomed out inside you for the first time, Chain swinging as he fucked you slow, deep, and deliberate. That cocky little smirk every time you whimpered. The growl in his throat when he moaned your name like he needed it to breathe.
Jake is above you, making love to you, the man who deserves you. But in the shadows of your mind, youâre clinging to the vision of Heeseung.
Your breath hitches. Your nails dig into Jakeâs back. And you whisper in your head, like a silent prayer, God, Y/N. Please Stop this.
Jakeâs rhythm was steady and strong, each thrust coaxing soft, breathy moans from your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck instinctively, pulling him closer, as if maybe proximity could help you stay present. You locked your legs around his waist, the shift in angle pulling a satisfied grunt from his chest. His head dipped, messy strands of hair falling across his forehead, and his lips parted into a sweet, breathless smile. âThereâs my girl,â he whispered, eyes half-lidded, voice warm like honey. His words shouldâve made your heart flutter, they always did. But tonight⌠they barely registered.
Your body responded, sure. You moaned louder, gasped when he snapped his hips a little harder, cried out softly as he buried his face into the crook of your neck and showered your skin in kisses. Each thrust was laced with whispered praises. âYou feel so good⌠fuck, I love you⌠always so good for me.â But the ache in your chest only grew.
You were trying, really you were truly trying to be here with him, to feel this the way you were supposed to. But the harder you fought it, the louder the other voice got. Jakeâs pace grew erratic, your moans syncing with the slap of skin on skin. You clung tighter, letting your nails dig into his back, desperate to lose yourself, but it wasnât working. Your heart was screaming, and guilt churned low in your gut.
You wanted to cry. You could feel it welling in your throat, stinging behind your eyes. In your desperation, and in your shame you did the only thing your fucked-up mind could do. You imagined it was Heeseung.
That it was his lips on your neck, his cock buried inside you, his breath fanning against your ear as he told you how tight you were, how much he missed you, how he was never going to let you go again. âIâm close,â you gasped out, voice cracking from the pressure, physical and emotional. You tried to ground yourself in Jake. You made sure to moan his name. You kissed his cheek, his jaw, his temple. But the image of Heeseung, sweat-slicked, mouth parted, eyes dark with desire refused to fade.
Jakeâs own moans grew louder, his movements faltering as he felt your walls clench tight around him. He pulled back just enough to see your face, to watch you unravel underneath him and that was all it took. âFuck, baby,â he choked out, hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom. He let out a shaky breath and collapsed onto you, catching himself with a forearm before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. âGod⌠youâre everything.â You blinked up at the ceiling, lungs heaving, throat raw. Jake pulled out slowly, carefully, and you felt the emptiness in more ways than one.
He disappeared into the bathroom, disposing of the condom, and returned moments later with a pair of your shorts and one of his shirts. He helped you dress, brushing your hair away from your face, murmuring something sweet you couldnât hear over the rush of your own thoughts. âThat was so good,â Jake murmured against your lips, stealing one more slow, honeyed kiss as his hand gently rubbed up and down your back. âWe havenât had sex like that in a while⌠it was so spontaneous.â
You offered him a quiet smile, letting him help you sit up on the couch. You didnât say anything, just leaned forward until your forehead was resting against his shoulder. Jake chuckled softly, his voice filled with affection. âDid I tire you out that much, baby?â You nodded, but it wasnât the kind of tired he thought. It wasnât your body that felt worn out, it was your mind. Your heart. Like something inside you had frayed at the edges and you were too afraid to look down and see how far it had unraveled.
In Australia, life was easy, steady, and happy. You and Jake thrived in that quiet simplicity. The memory of Heeseung had dulled into something forgettable. A past life sealed away. But the second you set foot back in Seoul, it was like that box cracked wide open and now he was everywhere. In your thoughts, your dreams, your past, at your goddamn job. You didnât even know what you were doing anymore.
Jakeâs hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly beneath your eye before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. âIâm gonna go finish dinner for you,â he said sweetly. âJust sit here and relax, okay?â You nodded again, watching as he disappeared into the kitchen, humming to himself. He was so good, so kind. The kind of love you always thought you wanted. Marriage. Stability. A future you could count on.
But then there was Heeseung. Chaotic, unstable, and complicated. The kind of love that turned your stomach into knots and your brain to static. The kind that burned when it touched you and left fingerprints on your soul long after it was gone. You sank back into the couch, the ache in your chest hollow and gnawing. You didnât know how much longer you could keep living in this constant warzone between logic and longing.
Your fingers itched. You reached for your bag, dug out your phone, and brought it into your lap. It unlocked to your home screen, and without fully realizing what you were doing, you found yourself in your blocked contacts.
seungie <3
The name still sat there like it never left. You stared at it. Heart pounding. Teeth sinking into your lower lip. Unblocking him was a terrible idea, you knew that. You should text Kira, or Mina, or literally anyone who could talk you down from this ledge. But deep down you already knew what theyâd say. Hell, you already knew what you would say if you werenât currently being haunted by the ghost of your first love in every memory, and every dream. Your thumb hovered over the button.Â
âDinnerâs ready, babe!â Jake called from the kitchen, his voice warm and familiar. You heard plates being set on the island, the shuffle of utensils, the faint clink of glasses.
You blinked, throat tightening. âComing!â you called back, quickly dropping your phone onto the cushion beside you as you stood up, trying to shake the fog from your mind.
But as you walked toward the kitchen, your phone screen lit up again.
Contact unblocked: seungie <3
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
Jay doesnât even ask if you want to hang out, he just tells you to be ready by seven. And you donât argue. Dinnerâs low-key. Some spot he used to love during college, tucked on a side street you wouldnât have remembered without him. Itâs easy with Jay. It always is. He keeps the conversation light, talking about work, teasing you about still not being able to eat anything too spicy. You smile, laugh even, and for a while you forget the heaviness youâve been carrying around like a second skin. Until he takes a turn you werenât expecting.
A long drive up the coast, the city lights behind you, the ocean ahead. You end up parked just off a quiet beach, headlights off, engine ticking as it cools. The sand glows silver under the moonlight. It smells like salt and memory. You both climb up onto the hood of his car without a word. The metal is still warm beneath you, and a soft breeze pushes at your hair. Jay glances over after a few minutes of silence. âYouâve been off lately.â
You hug your knees to your chest. âHave I?â He gives you a look. âDonât play dumb. I know you too well.â You exhale. You donât want to talk about it, not really. But you knew this was coming. Jay doesnât take you out for spontaneous dinners and drives unless heâs worried. âI thought I had it all figured out,â you murmur, eyes fixed on the rolling tide in the distance. âAustralia made sense. Everything with Jake⌠it just worked.â Jay waits. âBut now Iâm back here, and itâs likeâŚâ You stop, fingers curling in the hem of your hoodie. âItâs like I canât get away from him.â
He doesnât ask who you mean. You hear the shift of his weight beside you. âYou talked to Heeseung.â You nod, slow. âToo many times. More than I ever planned to.â Thereâs another silence. The waves roll in, Jay leans back on his palms, looking up at the stars like heâs trying to read something between them. âDo you love Jake?â he asks.
âYes,â you say, instantly. No hesitation. Because you do. You love his steady hands and his warmth and the way he always makes you feel safe. Jay doesnât push, but his next question hits harder. âDo you still love Heeseung?â You blink. You almost say no. You want to. But it dies in your throat. âI donât know,â you admit. Jay nods like he understands. âYouâve been through a lot, Y/N.â Your eyes sting. You lean your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you without thinking. âI donât know what to do,â you whisper. âYou donât have to know yet,â he murmurs. âJust⌠donât lie to yourself. And whatever happens, Iâve got you.â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
Class runs quietly today. Quieter than usual. Maybe itâs the weight of the assignment, âYour Biggest Regretâ or maybe itâs just him. Heeseung hasnât looked at you once. Youâve been keeping track without meaning to. The way he walked in late, head ducked low. The way he sat in the back, arms crossed, eyes fixed anywhere but your direction. Even now, as the rest of the students shuffle forward one by one, handing in their printed essays onto the edge of your desk, he stays seated.
You don't even bother hiding the way you glance toward him. Heâs the last to get up. And when he finally does, his steps are slow, almost reluctant. He drops the pages onto your desk, the soft slap of paper louder than it should be in the quiet room. For the first time in over a week, his eyes meet yours. Thereâs something in them, guilt, or sadness⌠Something else you canât quite name. It flickers for a second, then itâs gone.
You blink, lips parting slightly, maybe to say something, maybe to question the look but heâs already turning away. He slips out the classroom without a word, and you stare down at the stack of essays like it holds answers instead of questions. âRough crowd today,â Professor Bae murmurs as she walks past, holding a fresh cup of coffee. She offers a wry smile. âMustâve been all the emotional labor I assigned them.â You huff softly. âYou do love digging into trauma for academic purposes.â âIt builds character,â she says with a wink. âYou heading to your office?â You nod, âYeah, just going to start on the first few now.â She gives you a playful salute as she heads out.
Back in your office, you set your laptop down, uncap a pen, and sit with the stack of essays in front of you. A few of them are lighthearted despite the theme, regrets about a failed prank, about switching majors too many times, one even about not confessing a crush in high school. But some are heavy. You pace yourself. Highlighting, writing notes in the margins, organizing them by score. Youâre nearly through the entire stack when your eyes land on the final one.
Lee Heeseung.
Your fingers hesitate over the cover page. The same neat black print as the others. Nothing about the formatting or paperweight makes it feel any different. But you know it is. You exhale, steadying your breath, and slide it to the center of your desk, then you begin to read.
Title: A Study in Self-Sabotage By: Lee Heeseung
I spent the better part of my late teens and early twenties convinced that regret was something for people who had time to dwell on the past. People who hadnât learned how to outrun it. For a long time, I was really good at running. Iâm not proud of the person I used to be. I donât write that for pity or redemption points. Itâs just a fact, one Iâve spent the last few years trying to accept without letting it swallow me whole. At my worst, I was selfish, numb, high more often than I was sober, and completely convinced I was beyond saving. I wasnât living. I was surviving. I was a hollow version of myself, floating through days with red eyes, cracked knuckles, and a heart I didnât realize Iâd already handed over to someone else. And then there was her.
I didnât know love could look like that. Soft-spoken but stubborn as hell. She had this light in her, something untouchable, the kind of warmth that doesnât just burn bright, it spreads. She knew what she wanted from life. She was brilliant and focused and⌠so, so kind to someone who didnât deserve even half of that. She loved me. God, she loved me. Even when I couldnât see a future, she saw one for both of us. Even when I disappeared for days or said things I couldnât take back or came back with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands, she stayed. She was patient. Gentle. She kept trying to help me find a way out of the darkness I never even told her Iâd chosen. And what did I do? I pushed her away.
I made her think she wasnât enough. I broke her heart and then made her feel like it was her fault for trying to fix me. I didnât say goodbye the way she deserved. I didnât beg her to stay when she left for Australia. I made her think I didnât care, that I didnât love her anymore. That she should forget me. That it would be better for both of us.
I lied. And Iâve regretted it every single day since.
She left. I watched her walk away from afar at the airport gate I never had the courage to go near. She boarded that plane thinking I didnât love her, and I let her go. I told myself it was for her. That I was setting her free. But it was selfish. Because I wasnât saving her, I was giving up. And after she left, I fell apart. Not in the dramatic, movie-scene kind of way. It was quieter, and a lot lonelier. I stopped partying, stopped pretending the drugs were fun. They werenât. They never were. They were just easier than feeling. But now that the person who made me want to feel was gone, they stopped working. I hit rock bottom. And I sat there for a long time. And then, one morning, I woke up and realized sheâd never see me like that again. Sheâd never see what Iâd become. And for the first time, I didnât want to get clean because I hated who I was, I wanted to get clean because she deserved to know that her love hadnât been wasted.
So I got sober. Slowly, and painfully. I relapsed. I broke down. But I got back up. I found a program. I got a job at a bookstore. Enrolled in community college. Transferred. I studied harder than I ever had in my life because I kept imagining what sheâd say if she saw my grades. I heard her voice in my head every time I wanted to quit, âyouâre better than this, Hee.â
Everything Iâve done since she left has been, in some way, for her. And hereâs the part I hate admitting most. I hoped she hadnât moved on. I wanted her to. I told myself I did. But a small, selfish part of me held onto the idea that maybe, someday, sheâd come back. That sheâd see me again and Iâd be someone she could be proud of.
She did come back. I saw her. And the minute I did, I knew the truth. I never stopped loving her. The kind of love I have for her is quiet now. It doesnât beg or chase or demand anything in return. It just is. It sits in my chest like an old song I know by heart. It wakes me up when I think Iâm fine. It shows up in the way I write essays like this, pretending Iâm writing about regret in theory when really Iâm writing about her.
I regret the way I hurt her. I regret that sheâll never know how much she changed me. I regret that I let her walk away believing I didnât care. I regret not telling her she saved me before she ever knew I needed saving.
But if regret is the cost of loving someone like her and letting her go, then Iâll carry it for the rest of my life. Some people get their redemption. Some people just get the weight of knowing what they lost. I know which one I am.
You donât even remember standing up. Donât remember how your fingers started trembling as you reached the last paragraph. All you know is that somewhere between the sentence "But if regret is the cost of loving someone like her and letting her go, then Iâll carry it for the rest of my life.â and the moment you swiped a tear from your cheek, the dam broke completely. Youâre crying hard. Your chest is heaving and your throat is tight and the only thing you can hear is the rapid thudding of your heartbeat in your ears. You donât even think before you reach for your phone. Itâs muscle memory, selecting the contact you never meant to unblock, thumb hovering for only a fraction of a second before pressing call.
âHello?â Heeseung answers after a beat, voice laced with disbelief. âY/NâŚ?â He sounds like he doesnât believe itâs you. You sniff, struggling to breathe through the overwhelming swirl of emotions in your chest. âCome to my office,â you choke. âNow.â He doesnât even get the chance to respond as the line clicks dead. You sink back into your chair, hands shaking, breath ragged, heart racing. The faculty offices are quiet by now. It's late. The only sound is the muffled hum of a vacuum somewhere down the hall and the tick of the clock on the wall. It feels like forever until you hear the knock on your door. But then it opens before your eyes and Heeseung steps in, gently closing it behind him, his eyes instantly locking onto yours.
He drops his bag near the door, concern flashing across his face. âWhat happened? Are you okay?â You donât answer. Instead, you grab his essay from your desk and hurl it at his chest. It hits him with a light thud, dropping to the floor between you. His brows knit together, caught between confusion and worry. âWhat the fuck is this, Heeseung?â His jaw tenses. âYou read it.â
âOf course I read it!â you snap, voice breaking at the edges. âDo you seriously think you can just⌠pour your heart out like that and what? Iâd forget everything you put me through? Iâm just supposed to pretend none of it happened?â Heeseung bends to pick up the paper off the ground, not breaking eye contact. âIt did happen. Every word of it. I wasnât gonna lie.â
âYou say you were at the fucking airport?â you spit, eyes wide and glistening. âYou were there and you didnât say anything? You just stood there and watched me leave?â
âWhat was I supposed to do?â His voice rises. âI was a mess, Y/N. I was a fucking mess back then. You deserved so much better than the wreck I was.â The anger boiled in your chest, âYou shouldâve tried!â you shout. âYou shouldâve fucking tried, Heeseung!â His fist clenched around the paper in his hand, âI didnât want to ruin you,â he yells back. âI thought letting you go was the only good thing Iâd ever done for you.â You pace a step to the side, hands clenched at your sides. âBullshit. You let me believe you didnât love me anymore.â
âI thought it would make it easier!â he shouts, stepping toward you now, tone fraying. âI thought if you hated me it would hurt less.â
âWell, it didnât!â Your voice cracks. âIt fucking broke me.â He falls quiet at that. The air between you trembles with the weight of all the things left unsaid. Then he speaks again, softer, almost bitter. âWhy do you even care, Y/N? Youâve got your perfect little life now. Jake, your boyfriend that clearly loves you. A good job. Everything you deserve.â Your laugh is humorless and sharp. âDonât you dare throw Jake in my face. You donât get to talk about him like that.â
âIâm not talking about him,â Heeseung snaps. âIâm talking about you. You moved on. So why the hell are you standing here looking at me like that?â Your frustration boiled over as you shout back at him, âLooking at you like what!â
Silence.
The only sound in the room now is your uneven breathing. Youâre by your desk, and heâs still near the door. Thereâs at least eight feet between you, but the pull is unbearable. Your chests are rising and falling in sync. A thick, electric tension zips through the air between you. Itâs too much. The air feels tight. The weight of years lost hangs in the room like fog.
And then, you both move at the same time. No hesitation. You crash into each other like magnets, like muscle memory, like something you both swore you were done with but never truly let go of. His hands are on your waist, your fingers twisted in the collar of his hoodie. Your lips slam into his like youâre starving, like nothing else in the world could possibly matter except the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way itâs him.
The kiss is wild, and messy. His tongue slides against yours with desperate hunger, a groan rumbling in his chest as your hands weave into his hair. Youâre gasping against him, your back hitting the wall as he presses into you, your bodies flush and burning hot with everything thatâs been building for years. Itâs not gentle. Itâs not sweet. Itâs everything.
Three years of missed chances. Three years of heartbreak. Three years of love that never truly died. When he pulls back, just for a second, both of you breathless and wrecked, his forehead rests against yours. âYou shouldnât have called me,â he whispers, voice hoarse. You close your eyes. âI know.â
The silence that settles between you isnât peaceful. Itâs heavy with all the unspoken truths neither of you want to say out loud. Because this? This is a line. A thick, bold line neither of you were supposed to cross. And now youâre both staring at it from the wrong side now.
Itâs not that you donât care about Jake, or about the mess this is going to leave behind. You shouldnât be here. He shouldnât have answered the phone. You shouldâve hung up the second you heard his voice. But you didnât. And now here you are, pressed against a wall, heart racing, the ghost of his kiss still clinging to your lips.
âThis isnât fair,â you whisper, barely audible. He nods. His eyes are closed too, like if he doesnât look at you, he wonât crumble all the way. âTo him. I know.â The guilt claws at you. You feel it buried deep in your ribs, beneath the ache, beneath the years of longing that never really faded. Youâre not pretending this is okay. Youâre not lying to yourselves about what this is.
Itâs wrong. And you both know it. But somehow, the feelings between you two shouts louder than all of it. It always has. Itâs too big to reason with. Too consuming to ignore.
His lips find yours again like itâs the most natural thing in the world. Slower this time, deeper. Less of a war, more of a surrender. Like heâs memorizing you all over again. Like he knows if he doesnât kiss you right this second, heâll lose his mind. You kiss him back with the same urgency. The same desperation. The same ache. Your fingers thread through his hair and he groans into your mouth, hands gripping your waist like he still canât believe youâre real.
When you finally pull back, breathless and flushed, your eyes meet. His gaze is molten. âI canât stop myself when it comes to you,â he whispers, like a confession thatâs been burning on the tip of his tongue since the moment you walked back into his life. Your throat tightens as you nod. âI canât either.â Itâs a quiet admission, but it sets off something electric in the room. The kisses start again, layered with years of longing and everything unspoken. Over and over, your lips chase his, his hands roam your body, and itâs like youâve both forgotten what itâs like to breathe without each other.
In one fluid motion, Heeseung lifts you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist like muscle memory. He walks you both over to your desk chair and sinks into it, positioning you on his lap with ease. Your knees are bracketing his hips, your skirt riding dangerously high, his hands gripping your thighs as your mouths crash together again. The air is thick with want, but this time, itâs laced with something sweeter. Something that feels like home. Heeseung leans back for a second, eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes. âFuck,â he breathes out, âI want you so bad.â
âThen have me,â you whisper, hips shifting just slightly to remind him of how close you are. He grips your thighs harder and closes his eyes like heâs grounding himself. âI canât fuck you here,â he finally says, voice low and strained. âYou deserve more than that. Not in this office⌠not like this.â You blink, your head already fogged over with heat, but he presses a hand gently against your back and explains, âJayâs out with Sunghoon tonight. Weâll have the place to ourselves.â You donât hesitate. âOkay.â No questions. No second-guessing. Just him.
You climb off his lap, cheeks flushed and heart pounding as you grab your bag off the floor. Heeseung grabs his own bag, and leads the way out. Every step down the hallway feels like borrowed time, like youâre two kids sneaking away for something you both know is wrong but feels so painfully right. When you reach the parking lot, he opens the passenger door for you, but before you can even get in, he pauses.
He glances around, checking the quiet lot and then his hands are on your cheeks, thumbs brushing your skin, eyes locked on yours. âYouâre so fucking beautiful,â he says, voice husky and then he kisses you again. Soft, his smile pressed against yours. You laugh against his lips, so does he, and itâs like for just a second, nothing hurts.
You both climb into the car. The air feels warm, Heeseung drives in silence, but his hand never leaves your thigh. The city passes by in a blur, streetlights glowing against the windshield, your heart hammering beneath your ribs. When he pulls into the familiar apartment complex, a lump rises in your throat. Itâs different than it used to be, not the same haze of empty bottles and bad decisions, but something about it still feels like a sweet memory.
He walks you up, his hand lingering at the small of your back as you climb the stairs. He unlocks the door, and you step inside. Same layout. Same scent. But the clutterâs different now. No trace of pills on the counter or rolled-up bills on the coffee table. Instead, textbooks. A mug half-full of cold coffee. His laptop open, tabs of lecture slides and research notes. Still Heeseung. Still his apartment. But not the boy who once shattered your heart on this very floor.
He watches you take it all in quietly, then he says softly, âCome on.â He leads you to his room. Itâs cleaner, lived-in, comfortable. You stand in the doorway for a moment, heart pounding, breath shallow. You feel him behind you, hands slipping around your waist, lips brushing the shell of your ear. âYou okay?â he murmurs. You nod.Â
Heeseung led you into his room with quiet reverence, like the moment might shatter if either of you breathed too loud. The space had changed. The shadows that once lingered in every corner were gone, replaced by soft lighting and the faint scent of freshly washed sheets, cleaner, quieter, but still distinctly him. But it wasnât the room that made your breath catch. It was him. The way his hand gripped yours, steady and warm, thumb grazing your skin like he couldnât stop reminding himself you were really here.
He turned you gently, guiding you to stand in front of the tall mirror by the closet. It stretched from the floor to just above your heads, and as your reflection stared back at you, you felt your pulse begin to race. In it, you saw the outline of his body behind yours, taller, broader, still lingering near the nightstand, adjusting a few things like he needed the distraction, like even he couldnât believe this was happening.
When he turned back, his gaze caught on yours in the mirror. He didnât say anything at first, just drank you in, like you were the dream he was scared to wake up from. Then he stepped forward, closing the distance in two slow strides, his presence swallowing yours as his arms slid around your waist and pulled you flush against him. His lips ghosted over the curve of your shoulder before he pressed a soft kiss there, and then another, like punctuation marks in the silence. âAre you sure you want to do this?â he murmured, his voice low and careful, reverent. It rumbled against your back, the words curling like smoke through the tension between you.
There wasnât even a flicker of doubt. âYes,â you breathed, already leaning into him. Heeseung exhaled like heâd been holding that breath since the moment he walked into your office. With slow, deliberate movements, he reached for the hem of his hoodie and pulled it over his head, revealing the soft gray t-shirt underneath and the strong lines of his shoulders. The hoodie hit the floor in a heap, forgotten, but his eyes, those eyes that had haunted you never left yours in the mirror.
You mirrored him, fingers sliding under the edge of your own shirt and peeling it off, letting it fall to the ground beside his. His gaze dropped to your reflection, bare, open, vulnerable, and it made something flicker behind his eyes. Something primal, yet something so tender. Then came the second layer. He tugged his t-shirt off next, exposing the faint ridges of muscle. Your breath hitched, not from lust alone, but because this closeness, this peeling back of layers was everything youâd been starving for.
You moved to unclasp your bra, but his hands stopped yours. âLet me,â he said softly. You dropped your hands and let him take over, watching in the mirror as he reached behind you. His fingers deftly unhooked the clasp, then slowly, reverently slid the straps off your shoulders. The bra slipped down your arms and to the floor, but his hands didnât leave your skin. Instead, they came around to your front, palms warm and firm as they cupped your breasts with a mixture of awe and possessiveness. You gasped softly, your head falling back against his shoulder. His touch wasnât rushed, it was like he was rediscovering a part of himself he thought heâd lost. âYouâre so beautifulâŚâ he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. âI never told you that enough.â His voice cracked slightly at the end, like he hated himself for all the times he didnât say it, and all the times he left you wondering if he meant it at all.Â
Your breath trembled, but your eyes never left the mirror. And neither did his. Because in that reflection, he saw everything heâd almost lost, and you saw everything you still wanted. The two of you tangled together in the golden haze of his bedroom, desire and love and years of pent-up ache coiling around your bodies like silk.
You turned around slowly, the warmth of his palms now resting against the smooth plane of your bare back. The room was quiet, lit only by the soft amber hue of the lamp on his desk, casting long shadows across the walls and for a moment, it was just the sound of your breathing and the echo of the past folding into the present. âI love you,â Heeseung whispered, his voice so soft, so broken, that it felt like a confession years in the making. He dipped his head, pressing a kiss against your cheek, then your jaw. Then the space just below your ear. You felt the way his lips trembled with every touch, like he didnât believe he was allowed to be here again, touching you like this.
âI love you tooâŚâ you breathed, voice cracking as you threaded your arms around his neck and buried your fingers into his hair. It was instinctual, like your body had just been waiting for him as if no time had passed at all. And then finally, finally, his lips met yours again. But this kiss was nothing like the ones before, not like the desperate one in your office, not like the giggling one by the car. This was heavy. It was the kind of kiss that said everything words never could. His hands curled tighter around your waist as yours trembled against his jaw. You could feel the love, the heartbreak, the regret, the longing, all pressed between your mouths like a dam that had finally burst.
Heeseung scooped you into his arms as if you weighed nothing, holding you like something sacred. You were used to being tossed onto his bed with playful smirks and sinful promises back when this had all been simpler, back when lust had been loud and reckless. But now⌠he laid you down like you were something he wasnât sure he deserved to hold again. You lay there beneath him, chest rising and falling with quiet anticipation, as he hovered above you, just staring for a moment. Like he couldnât believe you were really here. âThis feels like a dream,â he murmured, eyes dragging across your face, down your body, back to your eyes. âTell me youâre really here.â
âIâm here,â you whispered, brushing your fingers over his cheek. âIâm not going anywhere.â And something shifted in him at that. His gaze darkened, not with danger, but devotion. He slowly moved down your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your chest, over your stomach, until he was kneeling at the foot of the bed. His hands found the waistband of your skirt, dragging it down with reverence. You lifted your hips for him, and the fabric slipped off easily, pooling on the floor with your underwear moments later.
He eased your thighs apart like he was parting the pages of his favorite story, one heâd read a thousand times but still wanted to memorize all over again. âI need to make you feel good,â he said, almost to himself, almost like an apology. Before you could even respond, his lips were on your inner thigh, peppering kisses that made your breath catch in your throat. Your hands slid into his hair, instinct again, anchoring yourself to him.
Then his mouth found you. He didnât rush. He kissed you like he was savoring you, tasting the years heâd missed, the time heâd lost. His tongue moved in slow, sensual strokes, lapping at your clit with careful precision, like every sound you made was a melody he was chasing. âHeeseungâŚâ you whispered, voice trembling with need. His name falling from your lips made his grip on your thighs tighten. His fingers joined in, sliding up your folds with unhurried grace, circling your clit in perfect sync with his tongue. Your body arched, your legs trembling on either side of his shoulders, and still he didnât stop. He worshipped you. Like the taste of you was the only thing that could cleanse him of everything heâd done, the drugs, the distance, the lies, the pain.
He pulled back for only a moment, lips glistening, breath heavy, eyes flickering up to yours like he was checking, like he needed to see that you were real, that you still wanted him. Your eyes met, and whatever he saw there made him lean forward again with even more purpose. You gasped as his tongue found your clit again, this time with more hunger. He was making love to you with his mouth. Each stroke, each flick, each breath against your skin sent you spiraling. His fingers curled against your hip as his mouth moved with a rhythm only he knew could send you over the edge. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized this wasnât about just pleasure. It was about redemption. It was about every âIâm sorryâ he never got to say.
And as your fingers tangled deeper into his hair and your hips arched off the bed, you knew no matter how broken he was, no matter how much time had passed, this love was still alive âThis pussyâs always tasted like heaven,â Heeseung murmured between kisses, voice husky and laced with that addictive edge of desire. âYou missed this⌠didnât you, princess?â You could barely manage to nod, your fingers curled tight in his hair as your thighs trembled around his shoulders. âSo many nights after I left,â you whimpered, voice breaking as a moan clawed its way up your throat. âThought of you⌠thought of this.â
Heeseung groaned softly, as if your words alone fed something primal in him. His grip tightened on your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer, burying himself between your legs again. His tongue moved with purpose, slow, then fast, then slow again, drawing delicate circles before flattening against your clit with maddening precision. You felt it coming fast, dizzying heat building in your core, your breath stuttering, body quaking. Your hips rolled against his mouth of their own accord, desperate and mindless, your fingers tangling deeper into his hair as your thighs clamped around his head. He didnât let up. If anything, he devoured you harder, lips and tongue working in tandem.
Your vision blurred, a breathless cry of his name tearing from your lips as the climax hit, white-hot and overwhelming. Your entire body arched as the release rushed through you, leaving you gasping, flushed, wrecked. Heeseung stayed there through all of it, drinking you in like he was starved.
When he finally pulled back, his lips were glistening, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he looked up at you like you were the most breathtaking thing heâd ever seen. His cheeks were flushed, jaw damp, but his eyes never left yours, completely enamored, like watching you fall apart was some sacred act heâd been waiting to witness again.
âFuck,â he whispered, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, still breathless. âYouâre unreal.â He stood, hands moving to the button of his jeans, and you watched as he shrugged them down along with his boxers, revealing himself, thick, hard, already leaking at the tip. Your gaze dropped, then rose again to meet his, and you were moving before he could stop you. You slid down the bed and dropped to your knees on the floor, looking up at him with wide eyes and swollen lips, chest still rising and falling from the high he had just pulled from your body.
âBabyâŚâ Heeseungâs voice was rough with restraint. His hands hovered at his sides, uncertain. âYou donât have to-â You cut him off with a look. A soft, certain smile. âI want to,â you said simply. âI want to make you feel good too.â Before he could say another word, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and your lips pressed to the tip, soft and slow. His breath caught immediately. You could feel the way his muscles tensed above you, his abdomen clenching as you began to take more of him in, slow, unhurried, and eyes never leaving his.
Heeseungâs head fell back with a soft, guttural groan, one hand rising to tangle in your hair, not guiding, just anchoring, just needing to touch you. âShit,â he muttered. âYouâre gonna kill meâŚâ You started slow, lips plush, mouth warm, letting him feel every inch you took in. Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking in perfect rhythm with the way your mouth moved, slick with spit and need. Heeseungâs head dropped back, a moan of your name tumbling from his throat, soaked in reverence and want.Â
âFuck, babyâŚâ he groaned, voice wrecked. His hand hovered at the back of your head, not pushing, just trembling with restraint. âYou feel so good⌠so fucking good.â You kept your pace steady, your tongue tracing along the underside of his shaft, and every time your lips slid down around him, his hips twitched, trying not to move, but it was no use. His control was slipping. You felt it in the way his thighs tightened under your palms, the way his breath came harder, heavier.
Then he snapped. With a deep, guttural moan, his hips surged forward, driving deeper into your mouth, slow at first, then gradually quicker. His cock slid past your lips again and again, each thrust more precise, more desperate. You gagged around him, the stretch making your eyes water, but you didnât stop, you took it. Let him use your mouth the way he needed to. And God, did he need to. His grip tightened on hair, fingers splaying over your scalp as he held you steady, eyes locked on yours like he couldnât look away. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his abdomen twitching as pleasure crashed through him in waves.
âLook at me,â he rasped. âKeep looking at me, baby.â You obeyed, eyes fluttering open, tears brimming as you blinked up at him. That look on his face, jaw slack, eyes wide with awe, it made your whole body thrum. You moaned around him, and that sound was his undoing. A strangled noise tore from his throat. âFuck⌠donât stop. Iâm close, Iâm- shit.â
The mix of your moan vibrating along his shaft, the way your lips fit around him, the sheer devotion in your eyes, it was everything. His hips stuttered, then stilled as he came hard, cock pulsing as he spilled down your throat. He held you in place with a trembling hand, riding out every last wave of his orgasm, your lips sealed tight around him until he had nothing left to give.
When you finally pulled off him, a string of spit still connecting your lips to the tip of his cock, you wiped your mouth slowly, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. You pushed yourself up to your feet, eyes searching his. Heeseung looked utterly ruined, hair messy, lips parted, pupils blown wide. You brushed a few strands out of his eyes, and the faintest, stunned smile tugged at your lips.Â
âYou did so good for me,â Heeseung murmured, voice thick with awe as his hands cradled your face like you were something fragile. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips that wasnât rushed or greedy, but slow and burning with reverence. When he pulled back, his forehead stayed pressed against yours, eyes flickering down to where your bodies met, skin against skin, hearts pounding in sync. âI donât have a condomâŚâ he whispered, his voice barely audible, like even admitting it out loud was too loud for how close this moment felt.
But you only shook your head, the pads of your fingers brushing slowly up his bare chest, over the ridges of muscle and warmth of his skin. âItâs okay,â you whispered, breath catching in your throat. âI want you⌠please, Heeseung.â That was all it took. He groaned, low and hungry. His grip on your hips tightened, and in one fluid motion, he lowered you onto the bed, the backs of your thighs brushing the sheets. He climbed over you, his frame enveloping you as he pushed your knees up to your chest, slowly draping your legs over his shoulders.
He paused, just for a second, gaze tracing over you. Heeseung positioned himself at your entrance and began to ease in, inch by agonizing inch. The stretch burned, the girth of him splitting you open in a way you hadnât felt in too long. Your hands fisted the sheets, tears instantly prickling your lashes, but you didnât tell him to stop.
Heeseung leaned forward, brushing the tears from the corners of your eyes with his thumb, his other hand gripping your thigh, âWe can stop⌠if itâs too much,â he whispered, concern flickering through his desire. But you shook your head again. âNo⌠donât stop. I want this. I want you.â The look he gave you then, it nearly shattered you. Like his whole world had just fallen back into place.Â
He stayed still, buried inside you, until your soft nod gave him the go-ahead. Then he began to move, slow at first, careful. Each thrust deliberate, like he was savoring the feel of you wrapped around him again. Your breath hitched as the pleasure slowly bloomed, and your hands found their way to his arms, his shoulders, anywhere you could anchor yourself as he gradually picked up the pace.
âFuck-â you moaned, nails grazing the slope of his back. His eyes never left yours, even as his thrusts grew harder, deeper, like he was trying to carve himself back into your body. âI love you,â Heeseung groaned, voice raw and wrecked. The words burst from his lips before he could stop them. Your heart clenched, lips trembling into a smile even as pleasure surged through you. You cupped his cheeks, fingers soft and tender. âI love you too, SeungieâŚâ
The nickname made his hips stutter, and something inside him snapped. He dropped his forehead to yours, breathing hard, moaning your name into your lips like a prayer. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as he began to truly fuck you, deep, relentless, and desperate. Like he was making up for every second you spent apart.
Each thrust made the chain around his neck bounce against your chest, his rhythm steady as he drove into you with pure need. âI shouldâve gone after you,â he grunted, the words broken, guttural. âGod- fuck⌠this pussy was made for me. This is my pussy. Say it.â You choked out a sob, back arching off the bed. âItâs yours.. fuck, Heeseung, itâs all yours.â
Your words undid him. His hand tightened on your hips as he fucked into you harder, deeper, chasing the high heâd only ever known with you. Sweat dripped down his temples, your slick sounds filling the room, the bed creaking beneath your bodies. You felt like you were floating, like everything outside this moment had faded away.
âIâm close,â you whimpered, voice barely coherent as the coil in your stomach wound impossibly tight. âMe too,â he gasped, pressing his forehead into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin. âCome with me, baby. Let me feel you.â And you did. Your climax crashed through you like a tidal wave, your whole body trembling beneath him as your cries filled the room. You clenched around him so hard it knocked the breath from his lungs, and that was all it took. Heeseung spilled into you with a strangled groan, fucking you through it with a desperation that bordered on madness. He didnât pull out, he wasnât even thinking. All he could focus on was the way you felt around him, how your body welcomed him home like youâd been waiting all this time.
He finally collapsed, carefully shifting your legs off his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rolled to his side and tugged you flush against him. His face buried in your hair, breaths still ragged, bodies still trembling. âI love you,â he murmured again, over and over, like he couldnât stop saying it. You curled into him, pressing your cheek to his chest, listening to the wild thrum of his heart. âI love you more,â you whispered back. âI donât think I truly ever stopped.âÂ
The afterglow settled like a warm fog around you both, your tangled bodies draped in soft sheets and each otherâs quiet breaths. Heeseungâs arm laid heavy around your waist, fingers splayed across your bare skin like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. His eyes stayed on you, quiet, studying, like he was memorizing the curve of your jaw, the flutter of your lashes, the way your lips parted in a small, sleepy sigh. You nestled your cheek into his chest, hearing the slow thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice low, almost hesitant.
âYou know I never⌠hooked up with anyone else,â he murmured, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. âAfter you left. You were the last person I⌠well,â He paused, swallowing thickly. âYou were it for me.â Your breath caught. For a second, you let yourself close your eyes and pretend the world outside that room didnât exist. That there werenât any decisions waiting to be made. That it was just this, just him. But then, like a cold slap, it hit you.
Jake.
You shifted slightly, brows furrowed as you reached blindly across the bed for your phone. It had fallen somewhere in the sheets, cold and forgotten. You finally found it wedged by the pillow, the screen lighting up at your touch. Your heart dropped.
8 missed calls. 14 messages. All from Jake.
Your stomach twisted as guilt surged through you, fast and unforgiving. You sat up, clutching the phone to your chest like it could somehow absorb the ache. You needed to go. You needed to think. You needed to figure out what the hell this all meant. But before you could even swing your legs off the bed, Heeseungâs hand wrapped around your wrist.
âWait.â
You turned, breath catching in your throat. His eyes were wide, but unwavering as they searched yours. âWhat does this mean?â he asked softly, like he was scared to hear the answer. âWe⌠just had sex, told each other we still loved each other...â You blinked, your voice barely a whisper. âI donât know.â He nodded slowly, letting go of your wrist, but his eyes never left your face. âI get it. I do. You need time. You should think about it. But,â he reached for you, thumb grazing your cheek as he leaned in, âjust so you know⌠I canât pretend this meant nothing. Not when weâve somehow been given a second chance.â
Then his lips were on yours again, warm and full of longing. A kiss that tasted like a promise and a plea all in one. When he pulled away, his voice dropped to a near whisper. âIâm not perfect. I never will be. But I want to try. For you.â Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. âI want the future,â he said. âI want the house with the creaky floorboards that we complain about and the coffee mugs we fight over. I want to call you Mrs. Lee one day and wake up next to you every damn morning. I want to make up for every single day I didnât get to love you.â You felt your throat tighten, eyes stinging. âIf Jakeâs the one you want, Iâll respect that. Iâll let you go,â he said, brushing his nose against yours. âBut just know⌠Iâll never love anyone like I love you.â
You didnât trust yourself to speak, so you nodded, eyes wet and wide as you pressed your lips to his one final time, a kiss that trembled with all the things you couldnât say yet. Then you stood up, slipping your clothes back on slowly, your back to him because looking at him any longer mightâve broken your resolve. You grabbed your phone, your bag, your heart. And you left.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
You shut the front door quietly behind you, the soft click echoing in the silence of the apartment like a gunshot. Your heart was still hammering like it didnât know the night was over, like it couldnât tell the difference between Heeseungâs mouth on yours and the icy guilt that had crept in the second you walked away.
Jake was on the couch, hunched forward, head cradled in his hands. He looked like heâd been sitting there for hours, still in his sweats, the TV on but muted, lights off except for the lamp near the window. The second the door shut, he looked up. And when his eyes landed on you, everything about him softened. He didnât look mad. He didnât look suspicious. Just⌠relieved. Visibly, painfully relieved.
âYouâre here,â he breathed, already getting up, already coming toward you. You froze. Youâd braced for questions, for accusations, for something. But all he did was pull you into his arms and wrap himself around you like that was the only thing he needed. âI was starting to worry something happened,â he said, voice low and tired. âYou didnât answer your phone. It was dead?â
You nodded slowly. âYeah. Sorry, I...â You couldnât finish your sentence. âItâs okay,â he murmured. âIâm just glad youâre safe.â He still didnât ask where youâd been. Not even a hint of suspicion in his voice. Instead, he reached for your hand, like it was second nature, and tugged you gently into the kitchen. âCome on. Iâll make you a tea.â Your body moved on autopilot, letting him lead you to a stool at the counter while he filled the kettle and opened the cupboard like heâd done it a thousand times. Like nothing had changed.
But everything had.
You watched him in a daze, your mind still spinning, your lips still tingling with the memory of Heeseungâs kiss. Your body still thrumming with heat in all the wrong places. You could feel it in your thighs when you shifted, how raw your skin was from his touch, how much of him still clung to you. Jake placed a warm mug in front of you and smiled. âItâs chamomile. Thought it might help you sleep.â You wrapped your hands around the cup, trying to set your confusion aside, but you couldnât. âYouâre not even gonna ask where I was?â you whispered. âDo I need to?â You stared at him. He shrugged a little. âJay texted. Said your phone died. You were helping him with something. Figured it was important.â Your mouth opened, then closed again.
That⌠didnât make sense.
You nodded slowly, unsure what else to do. âRight. Yeah. Jay.â Jake just smiled faintly and reached over to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. âYou donât have to explain anything if you donât want to.â And god, that was what shattered you most. He meant it. He wasnât trying to trap you, wasnât passive-aggressively testing your answers. He just⌠trusted you. And you didnât deserve it.
You finished the tea quietly, numb to the warmth of it, too focused on the ache hollowing out your chest. Jake wandered back to the living room, some game humming softly on the screen as he settled into the couch with a controller in hand like this was any other night. Like you hadnât just betrayed him in the worst way possible. You set your empty mug in the sink, fingers trembling, and finally plugged in your phone. The screen lit up with message after message from earlier tonight, most from Jake, frantic and worried. But one caught your eye.
Jay: When I said think about it, I didnât mean go and fuck Heeseung. I covered for you with Jake. Heeseung knows the sock policy. remind him to use it next time. And donât think this gets you out of talking about what happened.
Your breath caught. Your stomach dropped. Heâd heard. You texted back quickly, fingers clumsy over the screen:
You: Thank you. Weâll talk tomorrow.
You locked your phone and retreated to your bedroom in a haze, Jakeâs calm voice drifting faintly from the living room. You changed into pyjamas, wiped your makeup off like it mattered, and crawled into bed feeling like a stranger in your own skin. As you stared at the ceiling, one thought looped over and over in your head, louder than everything else, what the hell did you just do?
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
Jake was already dressed when you padded into the kitchen, still groggy from pretending youâd slept. He looked effortless in his usual work uniform, tailored slacks, collared shirt, watch already buckled to his wrist. He glanced over his shoulder as he poured two cups of coffee, offering you that soft, familiar smile. âYouâre up early,â he said, handing you a mug.
You shrugged as you took it, trying not to overthink the way your fingers brushed. âFigured Iâd go in and catch up on some grading.â It was a clean enough excuse. Being a TA meant long hours buried in labs and lecture notes and forgotten group assignments. He didnât question it. Jake leaned back against the counter, sipping from his mug. âDid you see the news?â You blinked, trying to read his tone. âWhat news?â
âKoda and Sunghoon.â He smiled wider, like it was good news. âTheyâre engaged.â Your stomach twisted, âOh,â you said softly. âYeah. I saw Kira repost their photo.â He nodded, looking down into his coffee. âTheir engagement partyâs this Saturday. Can you believe it?â You gave a faint smile, but it didnât reach your eyes. âTheyâve been through a lot.â
âYeah,â he murmured. âBut they made it through. I guess when itâs right⌠itâs right.â He looked up then, eyes locking on yours with a strange softness that made your breath hitch. âThatâll be us one day,â he said, like he knew. Like it was already written in some future timeline the two of you were steadily marching toward. You nodded, lips pulling into a tight smile. âYeah,â you echoed, your voice smaller than you wanted it to be. He didnât notice, or if he did, he let it slide. He was already grabbing his bag from the hook, shrugging into his coat. âText me if youâre on campus late, Iâll come pick you up.â
âOkay,â you said, but you werenât going to campus. You waited for the door to close behind him before you exhaled. The silence that followed felt deafening. You werenât headed to a lecture hall or office hours or a stack of poorly written essays. You were going to Heeseungâs apartment. Your legs moved on autopilot as you got dressed, something simple. You avoided the mirror as you tied your hair up and slipped your feet into your sneakers. You couldnât look yourself in the eye.
Not when the echo of last night still pulsed between your thighs. Not when Jake had said thatâll be us one day and all you could think about was Heeseung. By the time you were locking the apartment door behind you, the weight of everything you werenât saying sat heavy on your chest. And still you went straight to Heeseung.Â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
You donât know how many times you checked your reflection in your phone camera before knocking. The hallway outside Heeseungâs apartment is quiet, the kind of quiet that makes you second-guess everything. Your knuckles hover just a second longer than necessary, your chest tight with nerves. But you knock. Three soft raps against the door that hold more weight than any words could.
He opens it almost immediately, like he was waiting. He doesnât say anything at first. Just looks at you for a long, silent beat. The last time you stood in front of him like this, you were storming out of his life. And now, somehow, you're walking back in. He exhales, a breath you swear heâs been holding since you left his bed the night before, and murmurs, âThereâs my girl.â
Itâs barely a whisper, but it hits like a thunderclap. Your body moves before your brain can catch up, and you're stepping into his arms like you never left them. His embrace is soft. Softer than you expected. So different from the way he kissed you last night, all tongue and desperation, like he was trying to make up for lost time. This⌠this is gentle. You stay like that for a minute. Breathing each other in. Your cheek pressed to his chest. The steady beat of his heart thudding against your skin.
When you finally pull back, neither of you speak right away. He takes your hand and leads you to his room, and itâs strange how natural it feels. You sit cross-legged on the bed, facing him, and he starts.
âI messed up in the past.â His voice is low, rough around the edges, like the words scrape his throat on the way out. âI didnât just hurt you, I destroyed you. I know that.â You want to say something. You open your mouth, maybe to defend yourself, maybe to soften the blow but he holds up a hand. âPlease. Let me get this out.â You nod and bite the inside of your cheek. âI could say it was the drugs, or the stress, or my shitty-ass past. But the truth is⌠I made those choices. No one forced me. I lost myself. And I lost you because of it.â He pauses. His eyes glisten. âAnd you were the only good thing I had.â Itâs hard to look at him when heâs like this, unguarded, vulnerable. But itâs even harder to look away. âI need to tell you something,â he says. âSomething not even Jay knows.â You shift closer, folding your hands in your lap.
âWhen I was nine, my parents started fighting. At first it was small, yelling, breaking things, slamming doors. Then it turned into custody battles. Weekends with my mom, school nights with my dad. It got ugly. My dad started drinking. My mom⌠she got into pills. Iâd come home and find her passed out on the kitchen floor. Iâd make my own dinner. Put myself to bed. Eventually, she ODâd.â Your eyes sting with tears as he spoke. âAnd my dad?â He lets out a bitter chuckle. âHavenât heard from him since I was sixteen.â You reach for him without thinking. Just rest your hand over his. âI didnât think love was real,â he continues. âNot the kind that lasts. My own parents didnât even want to love me. So I figured⌠whatâs the point? I started taking from my momâs old stash. First to numb it, then just to feel anything.â
You can see it in his face, the shame, the hurt, the heaviness of remembering. But he never looks away from you. âYou changed that,â he says quietly. âYou made me want love. For the first time in my life. And I got scared. I ruined it. But⌠Iâm not that guy anymore.â Thereâs a pause. And then you ask, voice barely above a whisper: âWhy are you telling me all of this?â
âBecause I want you to believe in me,â he says. âI want you. Not just your body, or your time, or some halfway version of us. I want the real thing.â Your heart aches. Your entire body aches. There are so many reasons this shouldnât be happening. So many signs and wounds and consequences. But still you believe him. âI want what I shouldâve given you three years ago. And I know I donât deserve it, but y/n Iâd do anything to make up for all the pain Iâve caused you.â
Tears pool in your eyes. And before you can speak, before you can stop yourself, you're leaning in. The kiss is nothing like last nightâs. This one is slow. Deep. Like a promise sealed between parted lips. His hand cradles the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as you kiss him again and again. Thereâs no rush, no desperation. Just love. And the quiet, aching realization burns in your chest. Itâs him. You have to choose him.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The hall is warm with bodies, laughter echoing off the cheap string lights and faux-wood floors. The music a little too loud, the decorations clearly picked out with love and a Pinterest board. Itâs perfect, in the way real things are, messy, bright, full of emotion. You walk in with Jakeâs hand resting at the small of your back, his presence steady, familiar. His touch doesnât burn, it hasnât in awhile. You smile as you grab drinks from the bar, his usual beer, your usual rum and coke, and you make small talk while watching your friends dance under fairy lights.
âThey really did it,â Jake says, nudging you. âSunghoon and Koda. Engaged. Crazy, huh?â You nod, eyes scanning the room. âYeah. Iâm happy for them.â Itâs a good night to be happy. Which is exactly why you didnât want to break up with him before this. You told yourself it could wait. That you wouldnât ruin Kodaâs night with your relationship implosion. One last evening of pretending. You could do that. You could fake a smile. You could lie through your teeth. But then Jakeâs voice cuts through your carefully composed calm. âWait- isnât that your student? Beomgyu?â
Your stomach twists before you even turn. Something in his tone. Something sharp in the air. You follow his gaze and feel your chest seize. Itâs Heeseung. Heâs standing on the far side of the room, near the food table, half-turned like heâs debating leaving entirely. His eyes find yours instantly. You feel the breath knock from your lungs. Heâs wearing a black button-up and slacks, not overly dressed but still clean enough to make your heart skip. Hair pushed back, lips parted slightly in surprise.
You laugh too quickly. âOh⌠yeah. I think it is. I should probably go say hi. You should find Koda and Sunghoon, I think theyâre on the dance floor.â Jake nods, distracted, already turning away. âYeah, Iâll go congratulate them again.â You donât wait for him to disappear. You head straight for Heeseung, pulse racing, panic rising in your throat like smoke. âWhat are you doing here?â you whisper-yell when you reach him, keeping your smile fake for anyone who might be watching. He lifts his hands slightly, eyes still locked on yours. âSunghoon invited me.â
âI even realize the two of you would be here,â he says, voice lower now. âI wasnât trying to ambush you, I just⌠Im still friends with Hoon.â You stare at him, heart thundering so hard itâs hard to breathe. âSeung, if Jake finds out who you areâŚâ
âHe wonât.â His tone is firmer now, but not unkind. âIâll keep my distance. I swear.â You blink at him, torn between relief and something dangerously close to disappointment. âIâm here for Sunghoon. Thatâs it.â But his eyes, his eyes are saying something else entirely. You swallow, glancing around the room. No oneâs looking at you. No oneâs listening. âYou look beautiful,â he says suddenly, voice barely audible over the music. Your cheeks turn a bright red. You look down at your dress, like maybe that will help you process the moment. âYou look⌠very handsome,â you mutter, your lips twitching into something shy. He grins, and god, you love that smile. âDonât get used to it.â
While youâre locked in whispered words with Heeseung, Jake slips through the crowd, weaving past Kira and Mina laughing by the dessert table, past Jay trying to drag Wren to the dance floor, until he finds Sunghoon and Koda tucked into a corner near the bar, drinks in hand and flushed with the warmth of their celebration. âHey,â Jake grins, pulling Sunghoon into a hug first, then Koda. âEngaged, huh? You guys actually pulled it off.â Koda beams, eyes glassy. âBelieve it or not.â Sunghoon laughs and clinks his beer against Jakeâs. âYou know I had to lock her down before she changed her mind.â
Jake smiles politely, letting the moment settle. Thereâs love here, real, soft love, and heâs genuinely happy for them. He doesnât even notice the way Sunghoonâs expression falters slightly until he leans in, voice quieter, almost apologetic. âBy the way⌠sorry if itâs a little weird tonight. I probably shouldâve asked you first, but I didnât think⌠I mean, Heeseungâs still one of my best friends. It felt wrong not inviting him.â Jake blinks, confused. âWhat?â Sunghoon nods toward the far end of the room. âHeeseung. Over there with Y/N.â Jake follows his gaze, and sees you standing with Beomgyu. He squints slightly, his brow knitting. âThatâs not⌠no, thatâs Beomgyu.â Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. âWho the hell is Beomgyu?â Kodaâs eyes widen in slow-motion horror, and she groans, dragging a hand down her face before smacking Sunghoon lightly in the arm. âBabe-â But itâs too late, Jake freezes.
Because he knows now.
That wasnât Beomgyu in your office weeks ago. That wasnât some innocent student you were mentoring. That was him. The same man youâre talking to now, tucked into a quiet corner of the celebration like he still has a claim on your time. On you. Jakeâs jaw tightens as he looks back at you. The tension in your body. The way your shoulders curve slightly toward Heeseung. The way his eyes havenât left your face once. He doesnât need to hear the words to recognize whatâs being said in the spaces between them.
Jake doesnât say anything yet. He swallows it down, buries the storm behind his practiced smile. Because tonight isnât about him. Itâs about Koda and Sunghoon. He wonât make a scene and ruin it. But when you return to him, cheeks still flushed, your hand slipping into the crook of his arm like nothingâs changed, he knows better now.
He smiles back at you, but his mind is already spinning. Because once youâve seen the truth, itâs impossible to unsee it. And he saw everything in the way you looked at Heeseung. And worse⌠he saw it in the way Heeseung looked at you.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The apartment is quiet when you get home. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that presses on your chest. Jake doesnât say much as you both move through the familiar motions, heels off at the door, hairpins tugged free and tossed onto the counter, jewelry slipped from wrists and fingers. Youâre about to pull your dress over your head when he finally speaks.
âYou lied to me.â
Your heart stops. The fabric catches against your ribs, and for a second you forget how to breathe. You stand there in silence, letting the fabric fall back against your frame like it can shield you from the truth unraveling in his voice. Jake doesnât sound angry. He sounds tired. Crushed, maybe. But not angry. âI know Beomgyuâs not real,â he says quietly. âIt was Heeseung. That day in your office. It was him.â
You canât move, canât run. The weight of your own heartbeat is too heavy. âI saw the way he looked at you tonight,â Jake continues, taking slow steps closer. âLike he still sees you as his.â Your throat is dry. Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Jake stares at you, eyes glossy beneath the low lights in your shared room. âDid you cheat on me?â
The question is soft. And for a second, you think about lying again. You think about sparing him, about sparing yourself. But the damage is already done, so instead you nod.
Jake exhales like the windâs been knocked out of him. His shoulders drop, and for a long, suffocating beat, he just stares at the floor. Then he says, âWe can fix this.â Your eyes snap to his, wide, disbelieving. He steps closer, voice gentle. âWe can move past it. Start over. If you promise me something.â
You donât say anything, the tears are already slipping down your cheeks. âPromise me youâll never see him again.â Itâs like being told to cut off a limb. Youâre crying harder now, chest heaving in silent sobs as you drop your dress to the floor, bare feet rooted to the tile like youâll fall if you move. âIâm sorry,â you whisper. âJake, Iâm so sorry this happened..â
âIâm not even mad,â he says, almost to himself. âIâm not mad.â But that just makes it worse. The kindness in his voice. The hope. You sink to the floor, knees folding in on themselves as apology after apology pours from your lips. You canât stop crying, canât stop shaking your head, canât look him in the eyes. Jake crouches down beside you, trying to reach you. âWe can fix this. We can still fix it.â You shake your head again, harder this time. Heâs quiet for a long moment.
Then, gently he asks the question he didn't want to know the answer to, âDo you still love him?â The truth tears from your throat before you can stop it. âYes.â Jake flinches like you slapped him, but he doesnât move away. âYou donât have to love me, like you love him.â he whispers. âI can fix you. Just⌠choose me.â
âIâm sorry, Jake.â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The kettle whistles softly as you pour hot water into the French press, the rich aroma of fresh coffee blooming in the quiet morning air. Steam curls up from the mugs on the counter, three of them, just like every morning for the past two months. You hum under your breath as you shuffle around the kitchen, barefoot and wrapped in an oversized tee that definitely doesnât belong to you. The sleeves fall past your elbows. The hem nearly hits your knees.
You move with ease, muscle memory guiding you. Two spoons of sugar in the first mug, just a splash of oat milk in the second, and the third left plain and black. Toast pops from the toaster. You toss scrambled eggs onto three plates, and bacon sizzles on the pan. The morning light pours through the windows, painting golden streaks across the counter and catching in your hair.
âGod, I hope you never move out,â Jay groans dramatically as he walks into the kitchen, hair a tousled mess, still pulling his hoodie over his head. He snatches the coffee you made him with a grateful smile, grabbing a piece of bacon off your plate in the same motion. âYouâre literally the reason I get out of bed.â You snort. âItâs the food. You donât love me, you love my eggs.â He grins around a mouthful. âSame thing, really.â Youâre about to respond when you hear it. That low, sleepy voice that still makes something flutter in your chest. âGood morning, baby.â
Heeseung appears in the doorway, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep, hoodie thrown on, with a pair of sweatpants. He looks every bit like someone who just rolled out of bed, because he did, and somehow heâs still the best thing youâve ever seen. Jay groans dramatically again. âSee? She makes breakfast, and she makes coffee. Your girlfriend is the best.â
âI know,â Heeseung says simply, crossing the room to press a lazy kiss to your lips. His hand slides up the small of your back as he leans in, lingering there for a few long, slow seconds before pulling away just enough to smile down at you. âSheâs perfect.â You smile into his touch, nose crinkling. âGo brush your hair, it's exam day.â Heeseung sighs, snatching his coffee and toast. âCanât I just skip and make out with you all day instead?â
Jay snorts into his cup. âYouâd fail and then weâd all be stuck living together forever⌠which honestly I donât know if Iâd complain about that right now.â
âExactly.â Heeseung smirks, clearly not seeing the downside. You roll your eyes fondly as you hand him the notes he left on the table the night before. âYouâll do amazing. Just donât overthink the multiple choice.â
âAnd donât fall asleep in the essay section,â Jay adds.
âOkay, okay, I get it,â Heeseung groans, taking a few more bites of toast before tossing his now-empty mug in the sink. âIâm going.â Jay grabs his jacket and waves. âY/N, youâre so hot, such an amazing cook, and if it doesnât work out with Heeseung you know where to find me.â Heeseung pulls you in by the waist, smug grin still plastered across his face. âBack off. Sheâs mine.â
Jay laughs on his way out, door shutting behind him with a quiet click. You donât even have time to say anything before Heeseungâs lips are back on yours. But this time itâs different, hungrier. His hands slide down your back, then back up again, tugging your oversized shirt higher as his tongue brushes your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth, already breathless as he walks you backward until your hips hit the counter. âHeeseung.. your examâŚâ
âIn five minutes,â he murmurs against your neck, dragging his lips along your pulse point. âI need my good luck kiss.â You laugh, breath hitching slightly when he sucks a mark just below your jaw. âThatâs not a kiss, thatâs a hickey.â
âSame thing, really.â You grin, muttering something about how he sounds like Jay. Your heart raced as he tilts your chin up and kisses you again, slow and deep, like heâs trying to make the moment last. Like he still canât believe youâre his again. Eventually, and reluctantly, he pulls away. âIâll see you after?â
You nod, brushing your fingers through his hair. âIâll be right here.â He smiles. And with one last soft kiss, lingering, full of all the love you never stopped feeling, he slips out the door, leaving you breathless in the kitchen.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
The living room smells like popcorn and candles, warm vanilla humming beneath the sound of your shared playlist looping quietly from the Bluetooth speaker in the corner. Jayâs sprawled on the couch with a beer in hand, socked feet propped on the coffee table you told him not to put them on. Youâre curled up on the floor with your laptop, finalizing your own work stuff, a âCongrats Hee!â banner barely taped above the TV, courtesy of Jay, who thought itâd be funny to make it lopsided on purpose.
Everythingâs ready. You even baked brownies. And yet, thereâs no celebration in the air when he walks through the door. The front door clicks open, and you glance up immediately. Heeseung steps inside, hood up, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, and something about the way he moves, shoulders tense, head low, makes your stomach twist. Jay notices it too. âYo, dude,â he calls out, a grin already forming until it falters. âEverything okay?â Heeseung doesnât answer. He just kicks his shoes off, closes the door with a heavy sigh, and trudges into the room like the weight of the world is still on his back.
Your heart sinks. No. No, no, no. Youâre on your feet in an instant, laptop forgotten. âHeeseung?â His eyes flick to yours, and your breath catches. He looks⌠defeated. Like something cracked. âIâm so sorry,â you whisper, reaching out to wrap your arms around him before he can even speak. He lets you, his arms coming up slowly to hug you back, face burying in the crook of your neck. Jay stands now too, rubbing the back of his neck. âShit, man. That exam was brutal, huh?â
You nod against his chest, still holding him tightly. âItâs okay. Thereâs always next time. You worked so hard, baby, and Iâm proud of you either way.â Heeseungâs silent for a second, then you feel him chuckle. You blink and pull back, confused, only to see the stupidest, most smug little grin spreading across his face. âI just donât know if Iâll be able to get another ninety-seven next time.â
Your eyes widen. âWhat?â He reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out the paper like heâs revealing a magic trick. Bold red ink is circled at the top, 97%. Jay lets out a short, stunned laugh. âYou asshole.â You donât even think, you just jump into his arms. He catches you easily, arms sliding around your waist as you wrap yours around his neck, legs tightening around his hips as he lifts you right off the floor. âHeeseung!â you squeal, laughing breathlessly. âYou scared me!â He spins you around in a full circle, burying his face in your shoulder, grinning like a kid. âI wanted to see your face when I told you.â
âYou nearly gave me a heart attack, you jerk!â He just laughs harder, finally setting you down but keeping you close, arms still around your waist. Jay steps forward with a lopsided grin and claps a hand on Heeseungâs back. âYou did it, bro.â Heeseung nods, still breathless, eyes flicking between you and Jay like heâs trying to etch the moment into his memory. âYeah. I really did.âÂ
And just like that, the room explodes into celebration. Jay pops open a second beer, tossing one to Heeseung. You grab the brownies and pass them out like youâre hosting a party for ten instead of three. The playlist gets turned up. Someone (probably Jay) tosses a handful of confetti you didnât even know you had. And in the middle of it all, Heeseung pulls you back into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the noise fades into the background.
âI couldnât have done it without you,â he murmurs. You tilt your chin up, nose brushing his. âYou did it on your own. You earned this.â
âYeah,â he says softly. âBut you made me believe I could.â You smile, and the celebration continues, music and laughter spilling out into the hallway like the best kind of noise.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･
Eight Months Later
Sunlight cuts through the blinds in soft, golden stripes, pooling across the sheets tangled between your bare legs. Your head is pounding lightly, a dull, distant echo of last nightâs champagne, but thereâs no rush to get up. No reason to move, not when you're cocooned in warmth and skin and the faint smell of sex. You blink lazily, vision adjusting to the hazy morning light, and there he is.
Lying on his side beside you, brown hair tousled, cheek half-squished into the pillow, lips parted as he breathes, slow and deep. His hand is resting on your waist, thumb brushing against your skin like his body knows youâre his even before his mind wakes up. You smile before you even mean to. God, you love him. You loved him before when he turned your life upside down. And you love him now that heâs grown into something steadier, still sharp around the edges.Â
âMm,â he hums, voice thick with sleep. His eyelids flutter, and then heâs looking at you, a slow smile creeping across his face like the morning is already perfect just because youâre in it. âYouâre staring.â
âYouâre hot,â you whisper. He huffs out a tired laugh, eyes scrunching as he shifts closer, brushing his nose against yours. âYouâre hungover.â
âStill true.â
Heeseung leans in and kisses you, slow and sleepy and perfect. The kind of kiss that tastes like toothbrush mint and leftover vows. The kind of kiss that makes your heart ache because it's so simple now, so easy. You melt into it, fingers threading through his hair, and for a minute, the world is nothing but him.
When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours. âYou should probably put your ring back on,â he murmurs, eyes still closed. With a dramatic groan, you roll over and fumble around the nightstand. Your fingers close around the slim band of gold, cool from the marble dish itâs been resting in. You slip it back onto your finger like it belongs there, because it does.Â
Heeseungâs watching you when you turn back around, hair messy, bedsheets barely covering his hips. His smile stretches wide and lazy. âEloping was a great idea, wasnât it⌠Mrs. Lee?â
Your heart swells. It still feels surreal, those whispered vows on a beach just before sunset, Jay standing beside you with a proud, stupid grin, tearing up halfway through the ceremony. Just you, him, and forever.
You bite your bottom lip, smile shaking slightly as you look down at the ring. âBest idea we ever had.â Heeseung reaches for your hand, pulling it to his chest like itâs something sacred. He presses a kiss to your knuckles, then your palm, then drags your fingers across his jaw like he needs to feel them everywhere. âYouâre stuck with me now,â he whispers.
âGood,â you say, crawling into his arms again. âI was already stuck on you.â
He groans like you're too cheesy to live, but his arms tighten around you anyway, holding you close, holding you safe. Outside, the world is moving, Koda and Sunghoon are halfway through their honeymoon in the Maldives, Jayâs probably making coffee in the kitchen, and youâve got a stack of Monday meetings waiting for you both, but right here, in this moment, thereâs only peace.
Thereâs only Heeseung. Your husband.
Your beginning, your breaking point, your boy who didnât believe he deserved love until you gave it to him anyway. And now, heâs yours forever.
Some loves come quietly. It arrives like the soft shift of seasons, gentle, unfolding, and easy to trust. But yours didnât. Yours came like a storm.
A collision of bad timing and worse intentions. Something sharp-edged and impulsive. Something that hurt even as it healed. It wasnât safe, or simple, or sweet in the beginning. You didnât fall in love gently. You crashed into it hard. And maybe thatâs what made it real.
Because the truth is, not all love stories are clean. Some are messy, twisted, tangled in the worst parts of who we are before they ever reach the best. Some require breaking first. Some are born in the chaos, in the ache, in the wild gravity of wanting someone you know you shouldnât.
Some love stories begin with a bad desire and still find a way to become everything good.
a/n; AHHH I can't believe we're finally here. For those of you who wanted her to end up with Jake, I am writing an alternate ending that'll either come out later today or tomorrow. Thank you to everyone who supported Bad Desire, and I hope that part 2 didn't disappoint. I def like part 1 best, but I wanted to write something very emotional for yall... but I have another fic in mind now so I hope I'll see support from you guys when that comes out! thank you again!
TAGLIST (Dedicated to ALL of you who gave part 1 so much love); @pradaheeseung @st4rg1rlies @hoonprksung @mheretoreadff @lostgirlysstuff @kgneptun @dallune @wolf97still @ikeuriuu @maliakealoha @yejin01e @chaconnehoon @mikeeel @fancypeacepersona @hopetiger10
synopsis ; You were happy. You finally had the life and the love you always wanted. The love you thought you deserved. You got the guy, had an amazing job, and the best friend group you could ask for. So why did everything fall apart so easily the second you laid eyes on him?
In which y/n and heeseung's paths probably shouldn't have collided again. Once again we watch the way they navigate their way through a love that was never meant to last... or was it?
pairing ; jake x fem reader x addict!heeseung
genre ; smut, angst
warnings ; mentions of drug use, smut, cheating, reader is very confused, mentions of parental death, their good ol back and fourth, will they wont they returns, jake is golden but also very naive, jay is such a good friend it hurts, fighting, flashbacks to the first fic. more warnings to come!
do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact. there is a lot of heavy themes in this fic, so please read the warnings carefully before reading.
wc ; tbd
release date ; July 18th, 2025
teaser under the cut !
The city feels different now, older, a little shinier, but still stitched with familiar corners and turns that tug at some tender parts of your memory. You spend the afternoon wandering. It starts with the corner convenience store where you grab a bottled drink and a steaming cup of instant ramen, the same kind you used to eat on study breaks when the university library closed early. The tangy broth and chewy noodles warm you from the inside out as you perch on a bench outside, headphones in, watching the blur of people pass.
You wander the streets aimlessly afterward, peeking into store windows, brushing fingertips across hanging racks in boutiques you donât remember but feel like you should. You take your time. This part of Seoul feels like a half-remembered dream. Some stores are new, some long gone, but the bones of the neighborhood hasnât changed, and you canât help but feel like youâre walking through a version of your past.
Eventually, you stop in front of a small cafĂŠ with ivy crawling up the brick walls and a painted sign that hasnât aged a day. Your heart stutters, this place. Itâs quiet inside. The scent of espresso and honeyed pastries wraps around you like a blanket. The cafĂŠ looks exactly as it used to, cozy lighting, mismatched chairs, walls lined with faded books and Polaroids. Behind the counter, the same elderly woman you remember beams at you like time hasnât passed at all.
âAh! Youâve come back,â she says, recognizing you instantly. âYou were always with the girl with the loud laugh.â You laugh with her, softly. âMina.â
âShe still laughs like that?â You nod, and it feels like returning to something you didnât realize you missed. You order your drink, a vanilla latte, just like you always used to, and when itâs ready you take it to a table by the window. The seat you and Mina used to race to claim. You open your laptop, fingers tapping softly against the keyboard as you scroll through job boards and workshop listings. A writing class catches your eye. Then a nonprofit with a bio researcher posting. You bookmark a few things, answer a couple of emails, and add to your journal doc.
The hours pass quickly, the latte slowly emptying. You stretch your arms above your head, craning your neck from side to side, and thatâs when you see a boy just a few tables away. His head down, scribbling furiously into the margins of a thick textbook. Hair mid length, a little messy, and heâs dressed in a plain hoodie and jeans. Nothing striking, not at first glance. But something about the shape of him, the way heâs hunched over his notes like the world doesnât exist outside the page, it tugs at you. Heâs familiar.
You tilt your head, trying not to stare. You canât see his face. And besides, your mind is playing tricks on you, right? You shake it off and return to your laptop. You spend another half hour reading articles, typing out a few scattered thoughts into your journal, then start packing up your things. You toss your cup in the bin and sling your bag over your shoulder, heading toward the door, Thatâs when he looks up.
You freeze mid-step, eyes locking. Your breath catches.
Lee Heeseung.
You donât stop walking. Your legs carry you out the door, the bell above it jingling faintly in your wake. You donât look back. Itâs only once youâre outside, surrounded by the noise of the city and the hum of your own pulse, that the realization truly hits.
SYNOPSIS ⢠after suffering a gruelling break-up, y/n vowed to start doing all the things her ex-boyfriend had never let her do before; partying, having fun, and making reckless decisions. during a usual night out, y/n spontaneously decides to try to get inked â which ultimately led her to meet lee heeseung, an independent tattoo artist. meeting heeseung was an embarrassing memory that y/n would like to forget (which she had forgotten by the next morning anyways considering she was completely hammered), however, after encountering each other again by chance â or luck if you call it that â heeseung decides heâs found the perfect canvas for his art; his next muse.
pairing ⢠tattoo artist! heeseung x party girl! reader
genre ⢠social media au (smau) + written, strangers to lovers, university au
contains ⢠profanity, suggestive [sexual] discourse, humour/crack, friendly bullying, highly suggestive scenes (maybe some smut maybe not), story mainly occurs in NYC, luck as a symbolism like everywhere, alcohol and marijuana consumption, misandry (lol), mentions of mental illness, gets angsty later on (more to be added if necessary).
featuring ⢠all of enhypen, yeonjun and beomgyu of txt, giselle of aespa, yunjin and chaewon of le sserafim + some cameos of other idols
status: ongoing!
author's note: hii, this is my first smau + fic and i'm also rlly new to tumblr so pls lmk if there are any areas where i can improve on! i've always wanted to write but never had the platform to until i found this community on tumblr!! ANYWAYS enough yappin, i hope you enjoy this smau + fic, this took A LOT of detailed planning to come to life!!! <3
Hi! I just read Bad Desire and it is honestly one of the best fanfics I have ever read. It is honestly so relatable and beautifully written and I cannot wait for part 2!! Can I be added to the taglist for the next part? I don't wanna miss it!
Thank you so much! I spend so much time writing it and crafting it carefully. I think bad desire has been maybe 4 or 5 months in the works now? Iâm just so happy that everyoneâs loving it and relating to y/n..
I have a lot of special plans for pt 2 so ofc you can be tagged! Iâm going to do a special tag for all the people who have been giving bad desire so much love and asking for part 2 <3
synopsis ; It was never meant to be more than a secret. But between late night kisses, and everything they never said, she fell harder than she should have. And he let her. Now theyâre both left chasing something that was never built to last.
In which y/n and heeseung's paths probably shouldn't have collided. with his raging addiction, and her undying love for him, they navigate their way through a love that was never meant to last... or was it?
pairing ; student!fem reader x addict!heeseung
[ part two ]
genre ; smut, angst
warnings ; drug use, and lots of it, heeseung using, reader smoking/attempting to use, emotional abuse, lying, kinda cheating if you squint, gaslighting, p in v smut, pet names, virgin reader, inexperienced reader, degrading, praise, unprotected sex (be safe pls), oral fem rec, like... kinda breeding kink, heeseungs lowkey possessive, heeseung is lowkey manipulative, reader is really naive, slight drug glorification, heeseung and reader kinda don't like each other at first, arguing, heeseungs a major asshat, they yell at each other sometimes, very will they wont they/back and forth, like I cannot stress how much heeseung is in the wrong here, let me know if i'm missing anything
do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact. !!! there is a lot of heavy themes in this fic, so please read the warnings carefully before reading.
I also CANNOT stress enough that this is purely a work of fiction, this story does not reflect against the real Lee Heeseung.
wc ; 22kÂ
read below the cut!
The lecture hall hums with quiet conversation as your professorâs voice fades into the background, the final slide of the presentation still glowing on the screen. You close your notebook with a soft snap, already organizing your mental to-do list for the night: finish your reading for psych, review your flashcards, maybe rewrite your biochem notes.Â
As always, you're the first to have everything packed and neat, your pens color-coded, your planner tucked under your arm. âGod, y/n, youâre like a walking academic weapon,â a voice teases from your right. You glance up to see Nina, your roommate, tossing her long curls over one shoulder as she stuffs her laptop into her bag. âYou say that like itâs a bad thing,â you smile, slinging your tote over your shoulder.
âIt is a bad thing,â she says, widening her eyes playfully. âYou need to touch grass, or at least touch a vodka cran.â You laugh, shaking your head, but sheâs already leaning closer with a mischievous look on her face. âThereâs a party tonight off-campus. A few of our friends are going, Kira, Wren, Koda, just a chill thing. Music, drinks, maybe a little dancing.â She nudges your arm. âYou in?â
Normally, youâd say no. Youâve turned down more party invites than you can count. But something in Ninaâs tone, or maybe the way the late afternoon sun filters through the windows and paints the classroom in gold, makes you pause. You think about the endless cycle of lectures and labs. The four color-coded exam prep calendars on your wall. The silence of your room after everyone else has gone out.
âYeah,â you say, surprising even yourself. âWhy not?â Ninaâs mouth drops open in mock shock. âWho are you and what have you done with my roommate? I didnât even have to get on my knees and beg!â You just laugh again, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. âIâm not promising anything wild. Iâll come, Iâll dance, Iâll hydrate. Thatâs it.â
âPerfect,â she grins, grabbing your arm as you walk toward the exit. âYouâre going to look so cute. Donât worry, I already know exactly what youâre wearing.â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The bass hits before you even step inside.
The house is already pulsing with bodies and strobing lights. Smelling like cheap beer, too much cologne, and the unmistakable scent of a college party deep in its prime. Minaâs got a hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you through the crowd like sheâs on a mission, her glossy lips already curved in excitement. âYou look so good,â she says over her shoulder, practically yelling. âLike, who is she good.â
You tug your jacket tighter with a small smile. Itâs not nerves, youâre just not used to feeling like this. Not used to the way the black ripped jeans hug your legs, the way your fitted crop top clings to your frame. Hair down, just enough effort to look like you didnât try at all. The moment you step into the living room, the lights flashing soft pinks and purples, a voice cuts through the chaos. âY/N! Oh my god, babe, look at you!â Wren comes flying toward you with open arms, all bright eyes and glittery eyeshadow, wrapping you in a one-armed hug while still balancing a red Solo cup. âYou look so hot,â she says, already pulling back to get a full look at you. âLike, Iâd kiss you hot.â
âSame,â Kira calls from the couch, where sheâs sitting sideways in someoneâs lap like she owns the place. âYouâre giving mysterious bad bitch and Iâm obsessed.â âSeriously,â adds Koda, whoâs perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, swinging her legs and sipping some blue drink out of a mason jar. âIf I saw you walk into a party and didnât know you? Iâd be too intimidated to talk to you.â
You laugh, shaking your head. âYouâre all ridiculous.â âAnd youâre stunning,â Mina says, giving your waist a quick squeeze. âNow, drinks?â As if on cue, Wren jumps up and heads toward the makeshift bar set up in the kitchen. âWeâve got vodka, tequila, mystery punch⌠ooh, and something that tastes like peach rings.â
âIâll just do water,â you say quickly, holding up a hand. âIâm good.â
Four pairs of eyes snap to you in unison. âY/N,â Kira says, scandalized. âYou wore that top and came to this party and think youâre getting away with water?â Koda laughs. âGirl, you agreed to come. That means at least one fun drink.â
Mina reappears with a bottle of something pink and barely fizzy, holding it out to you. âLight. Not even strong. Youâll barely taste it. Itâs like a Capri Sun.â You hesitate, but only for a second. The bottle is cold in your hand, the condensation slick on your fingers. One sip wonât hurt. It tastes like candy. Sweet and a little fake. Easy. âThere she goes,â Wren says, raising her cup.
âYouâre officially fun now,â Kira adds, looping her arm through yours. The music shifts, bass vibrating in your chest. Someone yells something in the next room. Outside, people are already spilling onto the porch, drinks and laughter echoing into the night. You feel it in your skin, that slow buzz of being alive, being here, with the girls who make everything feel lighter.
But you still feel an unsettling feeling creep up the back of your neck. Maybe because you donât notice the eyes watching you from across the room.
Not yet.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The bathroom reeks of bleach, stale smoke, and whatever cheap cologne the guy before them doused himself in. Heeseung wipes his nose with the back of his hand, sniffing once, slow and deep. The burn is already fading, replaced with the familiar clarity and a weightless buzz under his skin.
Outside the door, the music thrums like a second heartbeat. Sunghoon leans against the wall, arms crossed, a lazy smirk on his lips. âYou know one day your brainâs gonna just leak out your nose, right?â Heeseung shrugs, eyes half-lidded. âBetter out than rotting in there.â Jay laughs, pulling the door open to let the sound of the party spill in again. âYou two sound like youâve had this conversation before.â Thereâs a pause as the two exchange a glance. âWe have,â Sunghoon says. âEvery time he does something dumb.â His words accompanied by an eye-roll that comes to him naturally, âWhich is often,â Heeseung adds with a grin, snagging the cigarette tucked behind Sunghoonâs ear and lighting it like itâs his.
They step out, smoke trailing behind them, the heat and noise of the party rushing in all at once. Heeseungâs eyes flick lazily over the crowd, bodies pressed too close, red cups in every hand, neon lights catching on sequins and sweat. Sunghoon elbows him. âYou gonna dance tonight, or just brood in the corner like Batman again?â âIâll dance when hell freezes and you get laid,â Heeseung mutters, exhaling smoke through his nose. âOuch,â Sunghoon says with a mock wince. âLow blow. Even for you.â
Jay doesnât laugh.
Heâs staring at something, no, someone. Eyes locked across the room, jaw slightly slack, like he forgot how to act. Heeseung catches it immediately. âDude,â he says flatly. âYou good?â Jay doesnât respond, causing Heeseung to follow his gaze. Sheâs standing with a group of girls near the kitchen, laughing at something, her drink cradled in one hand. Her hair catches the light, eyes wide and sparkling in that way thatâs too fucking pure for this place. Black jeans. Black top. Sweet face, too clean for the party grit.
Heeseung rolls his eyes. âJesus Christ, stop staring at her like a fucking perv.â Jay finally snaps out of it. âSheâs just⌠I donât know, man. Sheâs got-â
âWhat?â Heeseung cuts in, tone biting. âThat good girl trying to be bad energy? The innocent preppy type who probably says âsorryâ when she bumps into furniture?â Sunghoon snorts. Jay shrugs, unfazed. âSheâs cute.â
âSheâs boring,â Heeseung says immediately, taking another drag. âCan already tell. Probably straight-Aâs, runs on caffeine and validation, thinks this party is some edgy detour in her perfect little life plan.â
âYou got all that from one look?â Sunghoon raises a brow. âIâve seen that type before,â Heeseung mutters. âThey donât stay.â Jay watches her again. âStill wouldnât mind finding out.â Heeseung doesnât reply, but his eyes linger just a little too long this time. Something about her smile makes him twitch. Like she doesnât belong here, and for some reason, that pisses him off more than anything else.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
Youâre laughing as Wren spins you around, both of you stumbling through a fit of giggles. The musicâs loud, the floor slightly sticky under your shoes, and the lights paint everything in neon. Itâs the first party youâve let yourself really enjoy in... well, ever. Koda hands you another drink, something sugary, and you take a cautious sip before letting yourself be pulled back into the small crowd of dancers.
You move with Kira and Wren, arms thrown around each otherâs shoulders, swaying to the beat. Itâs easy to forget the stress of deadlines and grades here, wrapped in the warmth of your friends and the hazy buzz of the night.
âDude, youâve been staring at her for like ten minutes,â Heeseung mutters, leaning against the wall, eyes following the glow of the neon lights. âWhat, you suddenly into honor roll girls now?â Jay smirks, eyes still fixed on you as you laugh and twirl with your friends. âSheâs just⌠different.â Sunghoon snorts into his drink. âDifferent how? Sheâs got two arms and two legs like everyone else.â
âSheâs not like the other girls here,â Jay says, straightening a little. âSheâs not sloppy, not trying to start drama. She looks like sheâs actually having fun.â Heeseung scoffs. âYeah, because she probably drank half a white claw and hit her sugar quota for the week.â Jay grins. âYouâre just mad you have a type and itâs emotionally unavailable.â Sunghoon lets out a wheeze. âHeâs not wrong.â
Heeseung glares at both of them. âNah, Iâm just saying, girls like her donât come to parties like this unless itâs a pity invite. Sheâs not gonna go for you, Jay. Especially not with that look in your eye.â
âWhat look?â
âThe one that says, âIâm trying to hit it before the night ends.ââ Jay rolls his eyes. âOkay, sure, I wouldnât mind that. But Iâm not an asshole. I just wanna talk to her. She seems cool.â Sunghoon nudges Heeseung. âTranslation: he wants to hit it, but heâll settle for a couple of texts and a chance to pretend he reads books.â Heeseung exhales a laugh, tapping ash off his cigarette. âAlright, lover boy. Go shoot your shot. Just donât cry when she says youâre not her âtype.ââ Jay ignores them both, already peeling off the wall. âYou two can stay here being bitter. Iâm gonna go say hi.â
âDonât say I didnât warn you,â Heeseung mutters. âTake the rejection like a man,â Sunghoon calls after him with a grin.
Youâre mid-laugh when someone steps into your circle. âHey,â he says, smiling like heâs known you for years. âSorry to interrupt, I just had to come over and tell you⌠you look amazing tonight.â You pause, blinking up at him. Heâs tall, casually dressed, but something about his smile is disarming. Genuine. Your friends glance at him, then at you, smirking behind their drinks.
âOh,â you say, caught off guard. âThank you.â
âIâm Jay,â he offers, holding out a hand. You shake it. âY/N.â
âNice to meet you, Y/N,â he says smoothly. âI hope this doesnât come off weird, but Iâve kinda been watching you and your friends for a while.â You raise a brow. âNot in a creepy way,â he adds quickly, laughing. âYou just look like youâre having the best time.â You laugh, unsure how to respond. âAnd, you know,â he continues, âyouâre kind of the most gorgeous person in this room.â
That gets your cheeks to warm. âYou donât waste any time, do you?â Jay chuckles. âLifeâs short.â Then he leans in a little, voice lower. âIâm not gonna lie and pretend I donât wanna get to know you in every sense. But I also get that it's not everyoneâs vibe.â Your expression must shift, because he adds quickly, âNo pressure. I just figured Iâd shoot my shot.â You lift an eyebrow, but youâre smiling. âI donât really do the hookup thing.â
Jayâs eyes flicker, disappointment, maybe, but brief. âTotally fair. In that case, I could always use a new hot friend that has killer dance moves.â That earns a soft laugh from you. âYouâre smooth.â
âI try,â he says, shrugging. âSo... can I still get your number? No expectations.â You nod, handing him your phone. He types quickly and hands it back, slipping his own into his pocket. âYou wanna dance with us?â you ask, tipping your head toward your friends. Jay grins, âThought youâd never ask.â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
Itâs been a couple of weeks since the party, and somehow, Jay has become a fixture in your life.
He fits weirdly well with your friends, easygoing, funny, never tries too hard. Koda teases him constantly, Wren talks music with him like theyâre soulmates, and Kira insists heâs basically the sixth member of your group chat. You didnât expect him to blend in so seamlessly, but youâve found yourself laughing a little more since he started hanging around.
Tonight, he invited you out to a local concert. You werenât sure at first, small venue, grungy vibe, loud music wasnât exactly your typical scene but he promised it would be fun. Said some of his friends were going, too. You agreed, mostly because it sounded like a decent Friday night, and Jay had been nothing but good company.
You arrive with him just as the opening setâs starting, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Jay gives your hand a brief squeeze as he pulls you through the people, heading toward a cluster of guys by the wall. âThatâs them,â he says, nodding. âHeeseung and Sunghoon.â
You spot them immediately. Sunghoon is the first to notice you, his hair dark, pierced lip, leaning casually with a beer in hand. He smiles, straightening up. âJayâs plus-one, huh?â he says, giving you a once-over, not in a sleazy way, just curious. âNice to meet you.â
You smile, warm as ever. âYou too. Iâm Y/N.â Sunghoon tips his beer toward you. âCool name.â And then your eyes drift left. And time sort of stops.
Heâs leaning against the wall, one boot propped against the concrete behind him, arms crossed over his chest. Messy dark hair, sharp jawline, silver rings catching the low light. He doesnât smile, doesnât move. Just looks at you.
âOh,â you say before you can help it. Jay gestures between you. âThis is Heeseung.â Heeseung gives a single nod. âHey.â His voice is low, rough around the edges. You clear your throat, suddenly self-conscious. âNice to meet you.â He doesnât say anything else, just holds your gaze for a second longer than necessary before looking away, like heâs already bored of you.
You blink, shaken just enough to feel it. Because heâs gorgeous. Like, unfairly gorgeous. But itâs more than that. Thereâs something about the way he carries himself, he seems so detached, and unreadable, like nothing really touches him, and for some reason, it sticks with you.Â
The music picks up and Jay starts chatting with Sunghoon, joking about some old band they saw live. You try to focus on their banter, try to enjoy the show and for the most part, you do.
But every once in a while, your eyes drift sideways. Just quick glances. Just curiosity. Youâre subtle about it, at least, you think you are. Heeseung doesnât look at you, doesnât smile, doesnât even move much. Just leans there, stoic and silent like he couldnât care less about the music or the crowd or you. But he sees it.
He catches every glance. And he doesnât let it show, but your eyes arenât the only ones wandering.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The line to the bathroom is long, but thankfully it moves fast. Youâre in and out within minutes, winding your way back through the dim hallway toward the venue floor when someone steps out of the crowd and cuts you off.
âHey, pretty thing,â the guy says, reeking of beer and something sharp underneath. He smiles, but it doesnât reach his eyes. âYou here alone?â You freeze. Your first instinct is to be polite, a soft no, a quick smile, excuse yourself and walk away. But when you try to step around him, he blocks your path, one hand brushing your arm. âDonât be shy,â he adds, voice lowering. âYou were lookinâ at me earlier, werenât you?â Your stomach twists. âI wasnât.. excuse me.â
You glance back toward the crowd, hoping maybe Jayâs nearby, or anyone, really but itâs too loud, too dark, too many bodies in the way. The guy steps closer, and suddenly your pulse is in your throat. You take a step back, but the hallway feels too narrow now, the music from the concert a distant thump behind you. You donât know what to say and you donât even get the chance to think of something because, suddenly, heâs being ripped away from you.
One second, the guy is looming over you. The next, heâs slammed up against the wall with a sharp thud, a hand fisting in his collar. âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â Heeseung growls, jaw tight with fury. Your eyes widen. The guy holds his hands up, stammering, âI-I didnât mean anything-â Heeseung shoves him once, hard, then lets him go. âThen walk away before I mean something.â The guy bolts without another word.
And just like that, itâs quiet again aside from the music still thumping from the venue. You and Heeseung stand alone in the dim hallway, the silence heavier than it should be. Finally, he looks at you. âYou good?â he asks, but the words are mechanical. No concern in his voice. Just a blunt check-in. He doesnât soften his expression, if anything it hardens.
You nod. âYeah⌠I think so. Thank you.â You expect him to walk away, but he doesnât. Instead, he takes a slow step toward you. You feel the shift in the air like pressure behind your eyes. His eyes rake over you, not with hunger, not exactly. Almost like heâs trying to figure you out, and already doesnât like the answer. âI donât get it,â he mutters, almost to himself. You blink. âWhat?â He steps closer. âGirls like youâŚâ He chuckles once, humorless. âYou play dress-up for the night, think youâre bold for showing up to places like this. But itâs all pretend, isnât it?â
You donât respond, you canât. His voice is low and steady, but it cuts like a knife. âYou donât belong here,â he adds. âAnd you know it.â He moves in just a little more, close enough that you can feel the heat of him, his words brushing your skin.
âYou should stick to safe things, princess.â Youâre frozen, breath shallow. Heâs staring right at you, and for a moment, his eyes drop straight to your lips. The tension swells, thick and unbearable. Then his expression shifts. That edge of something cruel curling at the corner of his mouth. âBefore something bites back.â
He brushes past you without another word, his shoulder bumping into yours hard enough to knock you slightly off-balance, and he doesnât look back.Â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
You knew you shouldnât have come.
Jay had texted that it wasnât a party, just a small hangout with âthe guys,â whatever that meant. You figured youâd sit on a couch, maybe order some pizza, suffer through video games you didnât understand. Easy enough. But now youâre standing in Sunghoonâs living room, and the first thing you see is Heeseung perched low on the couch, head ducked, dragging a line of coke off the glass coffee table like it's nothing.
His hair is darker now, richer, nearly black. It hangs messily in his eyes, but you catch the flicker of them through the fringe as he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand and leans back, lazy and unbothered. You freeze in the doorway, a cold shiver crawling down your spine. You hadnât seen him since the concert. âYo,â Heeseung says, tossing a small plastic bag across the table to Jay without looking. âYou bringing her around now?â Jay catches it with one hand, unfazed. âShe wanted to come.â
Heeseungâs gaze lifts slowly, dragging up your legs, your torso, your face. Not like heâs checking you out, more like heâs dissecting you. âYou want a line, sweetheart?â he asks, voice dry, already knowing the answer. Your lips part in surprise. âNo. Iâve never done that. And Iâm not going to.â He snorts, ironically this time and leans forward, elbows on his knees, his grin a slow, sharp cut. âDidnât think so,â he mutters as he rubs the remaining powder from beneath his nose. âYou look like the kind of girl who cries when she gets a parking ticket.â
You stiffen, heart skittering in your chest. âJesus, Heeseung,â Sunghoon cuts in from the kitchen, cracking open a beer. âCan you chill for like five minutes? You donât gotta scare off every girl that walks through the door.â Heeseung just shrugs. âIâm not scaring her. Iâm educating her.â
âYeah, well, educate yourself on shutting the fuck up,â Sunghoon fires back, walking over and smacking the back of his head with the flat of his hand. Heeseung swats him away without real force, rolling his eyes. âTouch me again and Iâll break your wrist.â
âYouâd cry before you tried,â Sunghoon retorts, falling onto the couch beside him with a grin. You donât say anything, standing awkwardly at the edge of the room while Jay nudges your shoulder and gives you a small smile, like âsorry about themâ. âI vote for movie night,â Sunghoon announces, grabbing the remote and flipping through options. âUnless you all want to keep playing whoâs got the smallest dick.â
Heeseung slouches further down, arm thrown over the back of the couch, that same unreadable smirk still tugging at his mouth as he watches you take a hesitant seat across from him. Youâre quick avoid his gaze, but to your dismay, you feel it anyway.Â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The movie had been playing for a while, some half-serious thriller that Jay insisted was good, even though Sunghoon kept making snide comments about the plot holes every five minutes. Youâd nestled onto the couch between the two of them, a big bowl of popcorn resting in your lap. Mostly, it was Jay and Sunghoon grabbing generous handfuls while you only occasionally picked at the edges.
Now it was empty. Sunghoon let out a dramatic groan, slumping against the cushions like someone had just shot him. âNo more popcorn? Iâm gonna die.â Jay rolled his eyes. âYouâve had more than half the bowl.â
âExactly,â Sunghoon huffed. Then his eyes landed on you. ây/n. Sweet. Lovely. Beautiful y/n, would you be an angel and make some more before I shrivel up and perish?â You laughed. âYouâre so dramatic.â
âIâm hungry,â he whined, clutching his stomach. âCâmon, Iâll owe you forever.â You shook your head, grinning. âFine. Where are the packs?â He answered immediately, a victorious smile already painting his lips, âKitchen cabinet above the stove.â You stood, smoothing your hands over your jeans, and padded toward the kitchen. The lights in there were dimmer than the living room, quieter, more removed. You found the cabinet, pulled out a pack, unwrapped it, and popped it into the microwave. The hum of it spinning was oddly soothing. You stared at the digital countdown, absently brushing popcorn kernels from the now empty bowl.
A presence, heavy, and close pressed to your back like it belonged there. You immediately froze. Then his voice rang through your ears, low, rough. âI told you to stay away.â Your breath caught in your throat, it was Heeseung. âIâm not afraid of you.â You managed to get the words out, albeit quiet, but still firm. He laughed, his tone quiet and mocking, more like a breath than a sound. âYou should be.â You felt the edge of his nose brush against your skin, trailing lazily from the curve of your ear down to your jaw. âI donât like girls like you,â he said. âSo preppy. So perfect. Good grades, straight Aâs, praise from mommy and daddy for not being the family embarrassment.â His words werenât sharp, they were slow, and poisonous, like honey laced with something rotten.
âYouâre just a good girl whoâs playing pretend. Hanging out with people whoâll ruin you just by standing too close.â You stayed still, your heart pounding. But, you didnât give him the satisfaction of flinching. âYouâre wrong about me,â you said quietly. He didnât respond right away, instead he spun you so your back hit the counter with a dull thud. His hands barely touched you, but they didnât need to. The heat of him, and the intensity of his gaze was more than enough. âYou think so?â he murmured. âProve it.â
Your brows pulled in. âWhat-â He leaned in, just a fraction. His breath ghosted over your lips. âIf youâre not who I think you are,â he said, âkiss me.â Your lips parted but no words came out. You blinked up at him, heat rising in your cheeks, flooding your chest. âI canât,â you breathed. âTheyâre right there.â He didnât move, he just let his lips brush yours, soft enough to barely count, cruel enough to make it feel like everything. Then his voice dropped right against your mouth. âThatâs what I thought.â
Ding.
The microwave broke the silence with a loud chime. Heeseung stepped back with a lazy smirk, turned, and walked out without looking at you again. You stood there for a second longer, heart thudding in your chest, your palms gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you upright.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
You were curled up on your bed, legs tucked beneath you, a pillow hugged to your chest as Mina filed her nails at the desk and Koda nursed a half-empty iced coffee from the floor, where she sat cross-legged on the rug. The dorm room smelled faintly of vanilla and tteokibokki from earlier, a candle flickering on the windowsill, low music humming from Minaâs speaker. It was one of those quiet nights meant for decompressing after a long day.
Instead, your head was spinning.
âHe hates me,â you said flatly, staring at the wall like it held the answers. âI donât even know what I did. One second heâs saving me, the next heâs saying I donât belong. Heâs just.. ugh! Heâs so confusing.â Koda raised a brow. âYou mean Heeseung, right?â You nodded, clutching the pillow tighter. âI still donât understand why youâre hanging around them,â Koda muttered, pulling her sleeves over her hands. âLike⌠okay, Jay and Sunghoon seem nice enough, barely, but Heeseung? I donât get the appeal.â
âOh, come on,â Mina cut in, smirking as she leaned back in the chair, legs propped up on the desk. âTell me you havenât thought about it.â Koda blinked. âAbout what?â Mina arched a brow at you. âSleeping with him.â
âMina!â you yelped, your face immediately flushing. âWhat?â she grinned, unbothered. âYouâre clearly into him. And if heâs that hot and that frustrating, thatâs probably the kind of hate-sex that ruins lives in the best way.â Shaking her head, Koda muttered, âYouâre seriously insane,â
âMaybe,â Mina said cheerfully. âBut Iâm not wrong.â You buried your face in the pillow for a second. âI just donât get him. Like, he offered me drugs and then told me I should stay away. He gets in my space like heâs trying to start something, and then leaves like I disgust him.â
âThatâs because heâs probably bad news,â Koda said, serious now. âYou said it yourself he was high out of his mind. He was rude, cold, and clearly not stable. Why are you still entertaining this? Why are you still hanging around them?â You sat up a little straighter, defensive without meaning to be. âBecause Jay and Sunghoon arenât like that. I like hanging out with them. Jayâs sweet. Sunghoonâs funny. Theyâre not doing anything wrong.â
âOkay,â Koda said, slow and firm, âbut theyâre close to Heeseung. Like, really close. Donât you think that means something?â You opened your mouth, then closed it again. âIâm just saying,â Koda continued, âmaybe think about not going to these hangouts anymore. Just until you know what youâre getting into.â
âSheâs getting into Heeseungâs pants, hopefully,â Mina said under her breath.
âKoda has a point,â you said softly, ignoring Mina for once. âBut⌠I donât know. I feel like I want to understand him. Heâs not just cold. Thereâs something else.â
âTrauma,â Koda said flatly. Mina laughed, but you only sighed. Then Mina sat up straighter, snapping her fingers. âWait. I have an idea.â Koda narrowed her eyes. âOh no.â
âYou should go with her next time,â Mina said, pointing a glossy nail at Koda. âYou donât trust them? Go see for yourself.â Koda made a face. âAbsolutely not.â
âNo, this is perfect,â Mina said, grinning. âYouâre like, the judgment queen. If anyoneâs gonna get a read on those guys, itâs you.â Koda looked at you, visibly unimpressed. But you leaned in, hopeful. âKoda⌠would you? Just once? If you hate it, I wonât ask again.â She groaned, throwing her head back. âGod, youâre lucky I love you.â You smiled, warm and relieved. âThatâs a yes?â
âOne time,â she warned. âAnd if that Heeseung guy looks at me wrong, Iâm lighting him on fire.âÂ
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
Itâs Koda who hails the cab, you slide into the backseat beside her, a nervous excitement twisting in your stomach as she scrolls through her phone, totally unfazed. You, however, are still trying to wrap your head around why Sunghoon of all people invited you out tonight, not Jay. Koda raises an eyebrow as she tucks her phone away. âYou sure this is a good idea?â
âNope,â you say, giving her a faint smile. âBut weâre already on our way, soâŚâ She just sighs, shaking her head fondly. When the cab pulls up to the restaurant, the evening air greets you with the smoky scent of grilled meat wafting from inside. You spot them immediately, Sunghoon and Heeseung standing by the entrance, dressed down and looking effortlessly cool beneath the soft glow of the signage. âHey!â you call out, stepping forward with Koda in tow.
Sunghoon waves, flashing that easy grin of his.m as he greets you, âHey, you made it.â Heeseung meets your gaze for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets. âHey,â he says flatly. At least he acknowledged you. You turn slightly, âThis is Koda, my friend. Sheâs tagging along tonight.â Sunghoonâs eyes flick to her, and itâs immediate. The pause that feels a second too long. âHey,â he says, suddenly sounding a little different. âIâm Sunghoon.â Heeseung nods at her in silent greeting, but Sunghoonâs already gesturing toward the doors. âLetâs go in. Iâm starving.â
Inside, the place is buzzing, smoke curling above tables, the clatter of side dishes, laughter mixing with upbeat K-pop playing from overhead speakers. As you approach the booth, Sunghoon slips into the seat next to Koda without hesitation, sending you a smug little grin. That leaves you standing there with Heeseung.
You slide in beside him, stiffly at first, trying not to focus on the heat radiating off his body, or the way he hasnât even looked at you since you sat down. Koda and Sunghoon fall into conversation almost immediately, easy banter, shared music tastes, laughing over which side dishes are superior. You watch them with a small smile, heart swelling at how happy Koda looks. Itâs peaceful for a while, until it isnât.
You feel Heeseung lean toward you, his breath warm against your ear. âYou really donât know when to listen, do you?â You tense, eyes flicking to the grill in front of you. You keep your voice low, only for him. âMaybe you should tell your friends to stop enjoying my presence, then.â Thereâs a beat of silence. Then he exhales a quiet laugh, sharp and dry. âI forgot how much you like being wanted.â You blink at the burn in his words, jaw tightening. You donât respond. Neither does he. The rest of the meal is a quiet war zone, chopsticks clinking, laughter echoing from Koda and Sunghoonâs side of the table while you and Heeseung sit in a thick, charged silence. But you feel his eyes. The occasional glance, the flicker of attention he tries to make seem accidental. You steal them back.
When the billâs paid and youâre all stepping outside into the cool night, Sunghoon stretches, keys jingling in his hand. âIâll take Koda home.â Koda immediately steps forward. âNo, itâs fine, Iâll go with-â
âI insist,â Sunghoon cuts in smoothly, shooting her a crooked smile. âHeeseung can take care of Y/N.â Heeseung groans. âSeriously?â Sunghoon leans in, murmuring something only Heeseung can hear, likely a warning, something along the lines of Donât fuck this up for me. Heeseung exhales through his nose. âFine.â You turn to Koda, and despite the weird tension curling in your stomach, you offer her a reassuring look. âItâs okay. Go. Iâll be fine.â She hesitates, but Sunghoonâs already opening the door to his car like a gentleman. She gives you a subtle text me later glance before sliding inside.
And then itâs just you and Heeseung, standing outside the restaurant. The streetâs quiet, golden lights from the sign above casting a faint glow over him. He doesnât say anything at first. Just looks out at the empty street, lips parted like heâs about to sigh.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
Heeseung unlocks his car without a word, the click of the doors breaking the silence between you. You follow, half-expecting him to just drop you off like Sunghoon had asked. Instead, he mutters, âWeâre making a stop.â You blink, hesitating before opening the passenger door. âA stop?â Sliding into the driverâs seat, he doesnât look at you as he answers, âRan out of weed.â Your brow furrows. âDo you really need me to come with you for that?â He finally glances over, one hand gripping the wheel. âRelax. Itâll be quick.â
You huff but buckle your seatbelt anyway, crossing your arms as he pulls out of the lot. The drive is quiet, streetlights flash across his face, highlighting the soft shadows beneath his eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the brown hair falling messily into his lashes. Eventually, he turns into the parking lot of a gas station, the kind that like it shouldnât be open for business. Heeseung shifts into park and wordlessly gets out, hoodie up, posture casual in a way thatâs still somehow threatening.
You watch as he approaches a guy standing by the side of the building, hooded and slouched, hands buried in his coat pockets. They exchange a few words, you canât hear any of them before Heeseung pulls some crumpled bills from his pocket and the other guy produces a few small plastic bags in return.
Then, the dealerâs eyes shift. Heâs noticed you. Even from the car, you see the smirk that curls across his face. He nods toward you, saying something you canât make out but you see the way Heeseungâs entire demeanor changes. His back straightens, and his hand curls into a fist.
Then his voice raises loud enough for you to hear, âSay another word, and Iâll make you eat your fucking teeth.â The guy just laughs, hands raised like he means no harm, backing off with a mock bow before disappearing into the alley behind the station. Heeseung stomps back to the car and throws himself into the seat, slamming the door shut causing you to flinch at the sound.
âJesus,â you mutter under your breath. He shoves the little baggies into his jacket pocket, jaw still tight. âIâm closer to my apartment,â he says eventually, as he starts the car again. âJay can drive you home from there.â You donât respond, you just watch the city lights flicker by through the window, wondering how the hell this night went so sideways.
When the car finally rolls to a stop in front of an apartment building, Heeseung gets out first. You follow, unsure if youâre supposed to. The elevator ride is short, and when he steps into the hallway, he freezes. A sock hangs from the doorknob of his apartment. âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me,â he mutters. You look between him and the door, confused. âWhat⌠is that supposed to mean?â He turns, looking at you like youâve just asked him the dumbest question alive. âIt means Jayâs getting laid. And unless I wanna walk in on him butt ass naked, balls deep in some girl, Iâm not going in there.â
Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out at first. A strange pang of something twists in your chest. Discomfort? Curiosity? Youâre not even sure. You shouldn't say anything. You know you shouldnât. But the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. âYou can come hang out with me for a bit.â
Heeseung blinks like youâve just said something crazy. âYouâre not serious.â
âI am,â you say, trying to keep your voice steady like your heart isnât currently threatening to crawl up your throat. âItâs better than smoking in your car, right?â He looks at you for a long second. Then his tongue clicks against his teeth, and a crooked, almost disbelieving smirk tugs at his lips. âSure, princess,â he says finally. âLead the way.â And with that, you both turn and head back to the car, neither of you saying what youâre thinking.
That this is a bad idea.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The drive to your dorm is quiet. Neither of you speaks, and youâre oddly thankful for it. You already know Minaâs gone for the weekend on some family trip she wasnât thrilled about, so sneaking Heeseung in isnât necessary. You donât even hesitate as you unlock the front door and lead him straight to your room.
He steps inside like he owns the place, scanning the space with an expression that borders on smug satisfaction. Your room is exactly what he expected, soft colors, string lights, a clutter of textbooks, and the sweet scent of your perfume in the air.Â
Without asking, he drops into the chair at your desk, pulling a small bag from his jacket along with a metal grinder and rolling papers. You sit on your bed, wordless. Watching. Careful not to speak too soon, not to ask the wrong thing. He grinds the weed with practiced ease, rolling it all up into a neat joint before lighting it. The smell hits you fast and you wrinkle your nose as he takes a long drag, eyes flickering up to meet yours.
You hold eye contact, steady as you can, even as the smoke curls around his face like a halo of sin. He exhales, lazily. âYou want a hit?â You shake your head immediately. âNo thanks.â
âItâs just weed,â he says like thatâs supposed to reassure you. âWonât kill you.â
âIâve never done it before.â
âExactly why you should.â He shrugs, leaning back as he takes another drag. âYouâll be fine.â You hesitate. Heâs not pressuring you, but thereâs something about the way heâs looking at you, the sharpness behind the laziness in his tone, that makes your pride itch. âFine but only oneâŚâ you mutter, reaching for it before you can psych yourself out.
He watches with amusement as you take a cautious inhale and immediately dissolve into a fit of coughing. Heeseung laughs, full-bodied and unbothered, while you wave at the air and curse under your breath. âYouâre such an asshole,â you wheeze. âI knew that would be your reaction,â he says, taking the blunt back and drawing from it like a pro. âWeedâs gross, huh?â
âIt is.â
âYou get over that pretty quickly,â he mumbles through the smoke. You glare at him, still blinking the burn from your eyes. He exhales again, tapping ash into an empty coffee mug on your desk. Then he asks it, just casually enough to sting. âSo whyâd you invite me over?â You blink. âBecauseâŚyou couldnât go back to your place?â
âBullshit.â He fixes you with a look, sharp and knowing. You open your mouth, then close it. You donât have a real answer. Heeseung leans forward just a little, the curve of his smirk cruel and charming all at once. âIs it âcause youâre stupid and think Iâm hot?â
âNo,â you snap, instantly. He chuckles, standing from the chair. You stiffen as he crosses the room and drops onto the edge of your bed next to you, close enough to make your heart stutter. âYou sure?â he asks, voice low. You say nothing. You canât say anything. Your skin feels too hot. Your head swims, not from the weed, but from his nearness, the scent of him, the way heâs looking at you like he already knows the answer.
He sees your blush, and thatâs all the confirmation he needs. âYouâre too easy,â he mutters, shaking his head with mock disappointment. He stands again, this time strolling to the window, opening it halfway before flicking the burning joint outside. The end sizzles somewhere below. When he turns around, heâs already pulling off his jacket and tossing it over your desk chair. Then he drops to his knees.Â
You gasp as his hands grip your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the bed until youâre practically nose-to-nose. âTell me you want me,â he murmurs, voice low and husky. âSay the words, and Iâll give you what you want.â You shake your head, heart hammering, âI donât want you.â He scoffs, one brow raising. âSure. Iâm an asshole. Iâm repulsive. Youâve made that very clear.â
Your spine straightens, your jaw tightens. âYou are,â you bite. âYouâre an asshole, and youâre repulsive.â Something flashes in his eyes. Maybe he expected denial. Maybe he wanted it. Instead, he just laughs under his breath, dark and low. âYeah?â he says. âThen why are you still sitting here?â You open your mouth, but he cuts you off, his hand reaching up, fingers slipping under your chin and tilting your face up until thereâs nowhere else to look but at him.
His gaze is intense. Like heâs peeling you open with nothing but his eyes. âTell me you want me,â he says again, softer this time. âOne last chance.â The silence stretches. And then, barely audible, your voice cracked.
ââŚI want you.â
Itâs all he needs. He surges forward, crashing his mouth onto yours in a kiss thatâs messy and impatient, all smoke and heat and tension finally snapping. His lips moved against yours like he owned them, tongue sliding past the seam of your mouth before you could even catch your breath. His hands dug into your waist, pulling you against him as if he needed more. And you kissed him back with a kind of clumsy desperation that had him groaning into your mouth.
âYou kiss like youâve never done this before,â he said between breaths, smirking against your lips. You blinked at him, dazed. âI havenât.â That made him pause, just for a second. His eyes searched yours, dark with something unreadable. Then came the low, almost pleased laugh. âOf course you havenât.â His tone was laced with something cruel. Not surprise. Satisfaction. âI knew you were a fucking virgin,â he said, pressing his forehead to yours for a brief second. âYouâre so fucking obvious.â
You tried to pull away, but he caught you, dragging you back in with a hand curled around your waist. âAnd so desperate,â he added, voice velvet-wrapped venom. âYou let me touch you like this, let me get in your head, just because I smiled at you for two seconds?â
âI didnât-â
âYou didnât what?â he cut you off, his hand sliding up your spine, fingers pressing just beneath your bra clasp. âDidnât fantasize about me when I cornered you in that kitchen? Didnât think about what itâd feel like to have me ruin that perfect little image you try so hard to keep?â His mouth ghosted over your neck, not kissing, just breathing, and it made you shiver. âYouâre pathetic,â he said against your skin. âAnd I mean that in the hottest fucking way possible.â
Your whole body was trembling, but not with fear. It was something else. Something that couldnât be named anything other than desire.
He pulled back suddenly, just far enough to grab your hands and guide them to the hem of his shirt. âTake it off.â You hesitated for a beat. âBe a good fucking girl,â he said, voice rough. âDo what youâre told.â So you did. Fingers shaky, you pulled the shirt over his head, revealing smooth skin, inked ribs, and lean muscle that flexed with every breath. He looked sinful.
âGood girl,â he breathed, and for some reason, your stomach flipped. But just when things were spiraling faster than you could handle, his hands were on your hips, mouth back on yours, it was so overwhelming you couldnât help but pull back.
âI⌠I canât.â He stilled. âIâve never⌠Iâve never done this before,â you admitted, voice small, eyes locked on the space between you. There was a beat of silence. And then, to your surprise, he pulled back. Not with annoyance. Not even frustration. He just looked at you, unreadable again. âFuck,â he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood. âYou really are something else.â You waited for him to storm out, to curse, even to make a cruel comment.
Instead, he just leaned down again, brushed a thumb over your flushed cheek, and said, âYouâre lucky Iâm not a total piece of shit.â And with that, he grabbed the rest of his clothes, tossed on his jacket, and muttered something about needing a smoke before he lost what little self-control he had left. You sat there, breathless and buzzing, completely unsure of whether youâd just made the best or worst decision of your life.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The music thrums low through the walls, bass pulsing like a heartbeat as laughter drifts in from Sunghoonâs living room. Youâre curled up in an oversized armchair with a ginger ale in hand, Kira and Mina arguing over which song to queue next while Jay and Wren are deep in a debate about movies that neither of them can name correctly. Somewhere across the room, Heeseung sits with a drink in one hand and a lazy smirk stretched across his face. His hairâs a little messy, pupils blown wide from whatever he snorted in the hallway earlier, and despite the chaos of the party, you can feel his eyes on you like a brand.
Itâs not obvious, no one else seems to notice. But you do. Every glance. Every slow rake of his gaze down your frame. Every time his tongue wets his lips like heâs tasting a memory. And even though you try not to, you glance back, too. Then your phone buzzes in your lap.
heeseung: bathroom. now.
Your breath catches in your throat. You donât even think, you simply mutter an excuse to Koda about needing to pee and slip down the hallway. The party noise fades behind the door when you step into the bathroom. Heâs already there, leaned up against the opposite wall with that same devilish glint in his eyes.
You blink. âAre we gonna talk about-â
âShut the fuck up,â Heeseung says flatly, pushing off the wall and closing the distance in one stride. His hands cradle your jaw and then his mouth is on yours, hot and aggressive and unforgiving. Thereâs no hesitation in his kiss, no slow build, just his tongue exploring your mouth, and the taste of liquor as he presses you back against the door. Your fingers fist in his shirt before you even realize it.
You pull back breathless. âHeeseung, what the hell are we doing? We need to talk about the other night-â
âI donât do relationships,â he says with a scoff like itâs a disgusting word. âSo if thatâs what you want, you better wait for hell to freeze over.â You blink at him, heart hammering in your chest, anxiety rising in your throat. âBut,â he adds, voice lower now, more dangerous, âI do want to ruin you.â You swallow hard at his words. He smirks, brushing his nose against yours. âSo hereâs the deal, princess. Youâre either in or youâre out. No strings. You wanna play with fire, or do you want me to walk away?â
Your brain screams run. But your bodyâs already betraying you, your anxiety fizzling away as his scent reaches your nose. You grab him by the collar and pull him back into a kiss, just as messy, just as desperate. His hands find your waist like theyâve been there a thousand times before, fingers curling tight. For a moment, you forget how to breathe. Heeseung groans against your mouth, then pulls away, forehead resting against yours as both of you catch your breath.
âWe should get back,â he murmurs. You nod, pulse still thundering. He opens the door, peeks out, then gives you a quick nod. âYou first.â You slip back into the party, lips still tingling as you slide into your spot on the armchair as if nothing happened.
A few minutes later, Heeseung strolls in, eyes scanning the room until they find you again. You go to look away, but itâs already too late.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
You werenât supposed to fall into this.
At first, itâs just sneaking around, his hands on your hips in the back of someoneâs house party, his lips slanted over yours in the shadows of a hallway, his messages short and demanding: Come over. Now.
It never goes further than making out. Not because he doesnât want to, but because you always stop it, and for some reason, he listens. But he toys with you. Pushes you to your limits. Tugs at your waistband just to hear you whimper and tell him no. He always listens, barely, but he never makes it easy.
Heeseung has fun with it. At least, thatâs what he tells himself.Â
But then something shifts.
You donât show up to one of the guysâ get-togethers and he spends the whole night pissed off. You donât answer his messages during midterms and he fights the urge to call you. And when you finally reply that youâve been studying, he just stares at the screen for a long moment, jaw clenched, fingers twitching with something he doesnât want to name.
Because thereâs one thing Heeseung promised himself heâd never do⌠develop feelings. Especially not for someone like you. But somehow, you become his. His little secret. His personal puppy. Always coming when he calls, even if it's just to follow him to meet a plug. You make him food after he gets too high and starts spiraling. You learn what bands he listens to, what kind of ramen he likes, what makes him laugh on those rare days when he lets his walls fall just enough.
And the worst part?
You never ask for anything back.
For months, he keeps choosing you. He stops fucking around with other girls, ignores his late-night calls from the ones whoâd been more than willing to drop to their knees. It didnât matter. The only lips he wanted on him were yours. And he hasnât even had that in weeks. Heeseung starts to feel like you belong to him and it terrifies him.
So he does what he does best. He pulls away.
You come over to his place one night, unannounced, because he hadnât answered your texts in two days and it made you worry. He doesnât look surprised to see you, just annoyed. You barely step inside when his voice cuts sharp and flat. âWhat the fuck are you doing here?â
âI was worried,â you say quietly, trying not to flinch. His laugh is humorless. âWorried? What the hell for?â
âYou werenât answering and-â
âI donât owe you shit, Y/N. I donât have to text you back.â
âI know that,â you whisper. âI just⌠I care, thatâs all.â
He sneers. âThatâs your first mistake.â
You donât fight back. You donât yell. You just stand there, eyes wide, shrinking under the weight of every bitter word. âI never needed you,â he says. âDonât know what kind of delusion youâve been living in, but this,â he gestures vaguely between you âwas never anything. Just convenient. You were easy.â Your throat burns. Your eyes sting. But still, you stay. âYou donât mean that.â
He steps closer, expression cruel. âI do. Get the fuck out, Y/N.â Youâre crying now, but you nod. âOkay⌠I hope you have a good night.â
Youâre halfway to the door when he throws in one last jab. âKeep crying, sweetheart. Shows just how fucking weak you really are.â The door slams behind you before you can blink away the tears. Jay is standing in the hallway. He freezes when he sees you, eyes wide.
âY/N? What happened?â You donât answer. You donât even look at him. You just keep walking, hand trembling as it wraps around the stair railing, the apartment door shutting behind you like punctuation at the end of a sentence you never wanted to write.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
A week passes. And itâs miserable. You barely leave your dorm except for class. You come back, bury yourself in textbooks or pretend to scroll your phone, hoping your friends wonât notice how much darker your eyes look now, how much quieter youâve become. But they do notice. Mina tries to talk to you, but you just keep saying youâre fine. Kira gives you looks full of concern. Wren keeps asking if youâre sick. Youâre not. You just feel hollow.
And Heeseung⌠Heâs no better.
Jayâs fed up with him. Heâs been smoking and snorting himself stupid. Heâs always high, barely coherent, lying around their apartment with bloodshot eyes and a shorter temper than usual. No girls, no snide comments. No joy.
Until tonight.
Thereâs a knock on your dorm door. Mina opens it, expecting maybe a neighbour or a classmate needing something. Instead, she finds Heeseung. He looks wrecked, eyes red, pupils blown wide, hair messy. Jacket hanging off one shoulder, reeking of weed. âWhat the hellâŚâ Mina starts, furrowing her brows. âWhy are you here?â He doesnât answer her. Doesnât care how insane he looks. âIs Y/N here?â
âUh⌠yeah?â
He brushes past her before she can stop him. He marches straight to your door and opens it. Youâre sitting cross-legged on your bed, startled as he walks in and shuts the door behind him like he belongs there. âHeeseung?â you breathe out, eyes wide. He doesnât say anything right away. Just walks over, dazed, and sits on the edge of your bed. You can instantly tell heâs high, and not just weed this time. His gaze is hazy, his voice low and hoarse when he finally speaks.
âCan I⌠lay with you?â Your heart twists. You donât know what to say. Youâre confused and hurt, but even so you nod.
He kicks off his shoes, shrugs out of his jacket, and slides onto your bed like itâs the most natural thing in the world. Then he curls behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist like it never left. His breath warms the back of your neck. You can feel his heartbeat against your spine. For a long while, neither of you speak. Then somewhere you work up and courage and quietly, you whisper, âWhy are you here?â He presses a soft kiss to your neck, another. His voice, when it comes, is slurred but raw. âBe quiet.â You shiver but stay silent.
âI hated it,â he mutters after a beat. âBeing without you. Hated knowing you were out there and Iâd pushed you away.â Your breath catches. You donât know how to respond. He nuzzles into your neck, pulling you closer, like heâs afraid youâll vanish. âYou belong to me.â And you should argue. You should push him away. But you donât, you just let him hold you.
âI didnât mean the shit I said,â he murmurs. âI was scared. Of how I feel about you. I didnât know what to do with it.â You stay still, soaking in every word, every slow beat of his heart against your back. âIâm not gonna push you away again,â he says quietly. âYou donât have to worry about that.â You donât say anything. You just reach down and thread your fingers through his, and you hold on.
You donât know how long you laid there. The silence is full but not uncomfortable. Just soft breaths and the quiet beat of something new blooming between you. Eventually, you shift in his arms and roll over, facing him.
Heeseung looks at you like he doesnât know whether heâs dreaming or hallucinating. His pupils are still blown wide, but theyâre focused on you. You lean in slowly, tentatively, and press the gentlest kiss to his lips. Itâs so featherlight it nearly doesnât land. But itâs enough.
Heeseung moves before you can pull away. His hand cradles the side of your face, and he kisses you back softly at first, almost reverent. But the longer your lips linger, the more the hunger seeps in. It grows, consuming, like itâs been building up inside him for the last week. The kisses get deeper, needier. Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as he shifts, pressing you down onto the mattress, his body moving to hover over yours. He cages you in without hesitation, kissing you like heâs starving and youâre the first thing thatâs ever made him feel full.
His lips bruise yours, but you donât care. You only kiss him harder. His hand trails down your side, gripping your waist as his body presses flush against yours. The way he moves, the way he kisses, itâs all too much. But you donât want to stop. You want more. And for once, the fear doesnât outweigh the ache. You pull away just slightly, your breaths tangled in the tiny space between you.
Your eyes lock, and his gaze is burning, pupils heavy and jaw tight, like heâs trying to hold back. And then, softly you say the words heâd been waiting to hear.
âIâm ready for more.â
His entire body stills above you. Then, slowly, he leans in until your noses touch, his voice rough against your lips. âSay that again.â You swallow. Your chest rises and falls with every shaky inhale, but your eyes donât leave his. âIâm ready,â you repeat, just as softly. âFor more.â
Your words are all he needs. The moment they leave your lips, he closes the gap, kissing you again, but this time, it's slower. More deliberate. Like heâs finally allowing himself to savor something heâs been craving for far too long.
Clothing falls away piece by piece, scattered carelessly to the floor. Thereâs no rush. Just quiet anticipation, mounting tension, and the weight of something neither of you wants to name. When youâre beneath him, completely bare and heâs left in nothing but his boxers, Heeseung just looks at you.
âYou look so beautiful like this,â he murmurs, the words low and genuine before he leans down, mouth trailing kisses along the curve of your neck. His lips brand you, soft at first, then hungrier as they dip lower. His teeth graze your hip bone, then your inner thigh, dragging a gasp from your lips.
This is the first time youâve ever let someone see you like this. So vulnerable and exposed. Your hands instinctively rise, trying to shield your face from the heat of his gaze. But Heeseung clicks his tongue and reaches up, fingers gently curling around your wrist. âLet me see that pretty face while I make you feel good. Can you do that for me, baby?â And really, how could you ever say no to him? You drop your hands to your sides, surrendering completely, and he smiles before dipping between your legs like he owns the place.
His tongue is confident, practiced, and devastatingly precise. You feel every deliberate flick against your clit like a jolt of lightning. He kisses you there, hungry and unrelenting, like heâs starving for every sound you make. You moan his name, loud and needy. âHeeseungâŚâ
His groan hums against your core, vibrating through you in the most sinful way. That one moan, the way his name rolls off your tongue, it spurs him on. He pushes your legs further apart, then back, just to hear your sounds more clearly, just to feel how wet and desperate heâs made you.
The pressure builds quickly. Itâs not gentle. Itâs overwhelming. Your body trembles under the weight of your pleasure, muscles twitching as your moans dissolve into shaky little whimpers. Youâre right on the edge and he knows it. His gaze lifts to yours, locking eyes with you just as you begin to come undone. Gone is the cold detachment youâve come to expect from him. Thereâs a glimmer of warmth now, mischief dancing in his eyes, his lips curved into a smirk as they press against your pussy again.
Thatâs all it takes.
You shatter beneath him with a broken cry, back arching, hips lifting off the mattress. Your orgasm crashes through you like a wave, hot and all-consuming, setting every nerve on fire. Itâs bliss and chaos wrapped in one, your chest heaving as you ride it out, moaning his name like a prayer, and Heeseung just watches.Â
He doesnât take his eyes off you as he lifts his head from between your thighs, lips slick with your arousal. His eyes are bloodshot and glassy from the high but they burn into yours with something heavier than lust. Hunger so deep it coils in your stomach and twists your insides.
Then he kisses you hard, desperate, a filthy blend of your taste and his need but the moment is short-lived. You feel it immediately, the thick bulge in his boxers grinding against your soaked core, the friction dizzying despite the barrier. A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest, and his lips hover just above yours.
âYou sure about this?â he murmurs, voice hoarse with restraint, his breath warm against your mouth. You nod, quick and breathless. âYes,â you whisper, eyes pleading. âI need you.â
He pulls back with a groan, sitting up on his knees as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. Your gaze drops, your breath catching when he tugs them down and tosses them aside. His cock springs free, long and thick, veins prominent, the flushed tip already glistening with pre-cum. It slaps against his abdomen with a heavy thud, and your thighs instinctively part wider.
Heeseung catches the way your eyes lock on his length, the awe, the need, and it pulls a slow smirk from his lips. âI donât have a condom,â he says, but thereâs no hesitation in his tone. He knows what your answer will be before you give it. âI donât care,â you breathe, voice trembling with desire. âI just want you.â His smirk deepens, dark and dangerous. He leans forward just enough to press his tip against your entrance, dragging it slowly through your folds, collecting the slick thatâs been pooling for him since the moment he walked through your door.
âYou keep saying shit like that, pretty girl,â he rasps, âand Iâm gonna start thinking you want me to put a baby in you.â The words are low and filthy, and they send a tremor through your body. He holds the base of his cock in one hand, teasing your dripping entrance, circling it, pushing just the tip inside and pulling back again. âIs that what you want?â he taunts, voice all mock-innocence, even as his jaw clenches from the restraint itâs taking not to bury himself inside you. You whimper, back arching slightly as you try to rock your hips forward, but his hand presses down on your thigh, keeping you in place. âHeeseung, please,â you cry, nearly breathless. âI need to feel you.â
Thatâs all it takes to break him. His eyes flash, the playfulness gone in an instant, replaced by something ravenous. With one smooth, powerful thrust, he sinks into you, stretching you slowly, inch by inch, letting you feel every part of him as your walls flutter and tighten around his thick length. A guttural moan rips from his chest. âFuck,â he hisses, eyes squeezing shut. âYou feel so fucking good.â
And for a moment time stalls. All that exists is the feeling of him inside you for the very first time, your nails digging into his shoulders, your legs trembling from the stretch, and Heeseungâs hands gripping your hips like he never plans to let go.
A sharp cry tore from your throat as Heeseung pushed deeper, stretching you open in a way youâd never felt before. The pleasure was overwhelming, laced with a faint sting that had your eyes welling with tears. Heeseung saw the tremble in your lips, the way your brows drew together and for the first time, the ever-composed boy above you froze completely.
âShhh,â he murmured gently, his voice too soft for the boy who usually only knew how to tease and taunt. His thumb brushed at the tears slipping down your cheeks, wiping them away with a reverence that left your heart aching. âI got you, baby. Youâre okay.â He leaned down, pressing featherlight kisses across your face. From your cheeks, to your jaw, to the corners of your mouth, almost like he was trying to kiss the pain away. Your eyes met his, and there was something new there, something fragile and raw. You gave him a small nod, and he didnât need anything more.
The moment you gave him permission, he exhaled a groan like heâd been holding it in for years. The restraint it took him to not completely unravel was evident in the way his arms trembled on either side of your head. He knew it was your first time, and for once, Heeseung wasnât out to ruin you. He was here to worship you. He started to move, slow and deliberate, his thrusts deep and steady, designed not to overwhelm, but to let you feel every inch of him. Every time his hips rolled into yours, you swore he carved a piece of himself into your body. He never looked away from you, not even for a second.Â
You wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as the pleasure slowly overtook the pain, and then eclipsed it entirely. Your moans spilled freely now, rising with each thrust, and Heeseungâs breath hitched at the sound of them. âYouâre mine,â he whispered, voice breaking against your ear. âYou hear me? This pussy is mine.â His lips brushed your throat, but his eyes were starting to flutter closed, head tilting back as the pleasure threatened to undo him. âGod, you feel so fucking good.â
He shifted suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pushing them forward, throwing your legs over his shoulders in one fluid motion. The angle had your breath hitching, your back arching up off the mattress as he buried himself even deeper, grinding against the spot that made your entire body tremble. His hands planted on either side of your head, caging you in as he began to fuck you in earnest, hips snapping forward with a brutal rhythm. You were a mess beneath him, moaning, whining, hands grasping at his forearms for something to hold onto. That knot in your stomach tightened fast and hard, your whole body going taut with it.
You could barely speak. âHee.. Heeseung, I think Iâm gonna-â But his pace didnât falter. âI know,â he grunted. âI can feel you, baby. But youâre not allowed to cum yet.â You sobbed at his words, a desperate cry breaking through your lips. âI canât.. I canât hold it.. please!â He growled low in his throat, his pace faltering just for a moment to lean closer, his lips right by your ear. âYou do what I say,â he hissed. âYou hold it until I tell you. You always do as youâre told, right?â
Your nod was frantic, broken by whimpers, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you as your walls fluttered around him, desperate to release. His own breathing was ragged now, sweat dotting his forehead, jaw clenched as he tried to hold himself back.
Then finally, like a reward he gave in. âCum for me,â he groaned. âNow.â Your release hit like a wave crashing over your body, your vision going white at the edges, back arching as your orgasm tore through you. The tightness in your abdomen snapped with a force that had you nearly screaming, shaking beneath him as the pleasure ripped you apart. Heeseungâs hands gripped your thighs harder as your pussy clenched around him.
âFuck.â he cursed, voice shaking, hips stuttering. âFuck, fuck, fuck-â
His own orgasm hit seconds later, spilling into you with a guttural groan as his body collapsed slightly over yours, his arms catching his weight just in time. He chanted your name like it was the only word he remembered, praises falling from his lips as he rode out the high with you. The room felt too quiet in the aftermath, filled only with the sound of your shared heavy breathing. Your skin burned, a soft glow spread across your body like youâd been touched by something divine. Heeseung didnât pull away immediately. He leaned in to kiss your shoulder, your jaw, your temple, anywhere he could easily get his lips on..
Eventually, he pulls out carefully, murmuring soft apologies at your wince. He cleaned you up with surprising tenderness, making sure you were comfortable before crawling back into bed beside you. No words passed between you. They werenât needed. Not with the way you curled into his chest, and the way his arms wrapped around you like he didnât plan on letting go.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
A few months had passed, and things between you and Heeseung had shifted but not in the way you'd hoped.
Word had spread quickly among your friends that the two of you were something. You were always together, always touching, always tangled up in some form of each other. Heeseung never bothered denying it, and though you werenât officially dating, he didnât let anyone so much as look at you the wrong way. You were his, even if you werenât his.
At first it felt like enough.
The two of you started going on double dates with Sunghoon and Koda, who had become disgustingly official. Public hand-holding, matching lockscreens, soft smiles traded when they thought no one was looking. It made something twist in your stomach every time you saw them together. Because you wanted that with Heeseung. Not just in secret, not just in the dark, not just in bed.
Youâd asked him about it more than once, about putting a label on whatever you were. Every time, he gave the same answer. âLabels are overrated.â
And somehow, every time, you let yourself believe him. Let yourself agree. Because what else could you do? Walk away?
Now the entire friend group was gathered at Sunghoonâs place, celebrating the unthinkable. Heâd gotten back into college. The same guy who once slept through an exam while tripping balls was suddenly clean, smiling more, standing a little straighter with Koda by his side.
Jay raised his red solo cup. âNo way youâre really quitting for good,â he snorted. Heeseung chimed in with a lopsided grin. âBet you relapse in a week.â Sunghoon only laughed, draping an arm over Kodaâs shoulders. âFor her? Iâd give up anything.â The room buzzed with soft awe, with that sticky sweetness of love that had you glancing at Heeseung out of the corner of your eye.
But he didnât look back.
Later that night, you were curled up in Heeseungâs bed, the city lights bleeding through the blinds in slanted strips of white and gold. He sat at his desk, rolling a bill between his fingers, lining powder up with mechanical precision. You bit your lip. Waited. Then finally, quietly, âWould you ever quit⌠for me?â
He paused, just for a second. Then he laughed. âDonât be stupid.â The words hit like a slap, and your stomach sank. âIâm not being stupid,â you said softly. âIâm asking.â He didnât even look at you. âIâm too deep in, princess. You knew that from the start.â You sat up, sheet clutched against your chest. âYeah, but maybe you could want more. Maybe you could try for us.â That made him turn. He swiveled slowly in his chair, coke still untouched, eyes bleary with something unreadable. âUs?â he echoed. âWhat us, Y/N? We're not married. We're not even actually dating.â
The words landed like stones in your chest. You blinked at him, stunned, your voice breaking as you whispered, âThatâs so mean, Heeseung⌠how could you say that after everything?â He rolled his eyes. âI didnât mean it like that.â
âThen what did you mean?â He shrugged, looking away. âI just donât think about the future. I never have. Shit like that doesnât work for people like me. Whatever happens, happens.â You were silent for a moment. Then, with a quiet sigh, you turned away from him and laid back down, facing the wall. You didnât cry, not this time. But something inside you hardened.
Behind you, you heard the faint snort of his line. A few seconds later, the bed dipped under his weight as he slid in behind you. His arm draped around your waist like it always did. But tonight, it felt heavier. He buried his face into the crook of your neck. He smelled like sweat and powder. And though he didnât say it, you felt the smallest whisper of apology in the way he kissed your shoulder. Still, your eyes stayed open long after his closed. Because no matter how close his body was to yours, youâd never felt farther from him.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The next week, Sunghoon waited at the bottom of the steps, his hoodie half-zipped and a protein shake in hand. âDamn, you look like death.â You rolled your eyes, trying and failing to stifle a yawn as you adjusted your backpack. âDidnât sleep.â Sunghoon let out a small chuckle as he walked beside you, âLet me guess. Study bender?â You gave a tired half-smile. âSomething like that.â
The truth was heavier than you let on. You were burning the candle at both ends. Studying until your vision blurred, then sneaking off to Heeseungâs apartment in the middle of the night because he needed you. He always needed something. A distraction. A fix. A warm body. You never said no. Not once. Not even when your body begged for sleep and your brain screamed for rest. By the time you and Sunghoon reached class, your chest already felt tight. Your skin was clammy, your thoughts muddy and disjointed. You hadnât even remembered this essay was being handed back today.
The second your professor placed the paper facedown in front of you, your stomach sank. You flipped it over, and there it was, a huge, angry 57% scrawled across the top in unforgiving red ink. For a moment, your world stopped. You blinked at the number, uncomprehending. Youâd never seen a grade like that in your life. Never anything under a 93. Not even close. You remembered writing it, or rather trying to.
Heeseung had been pacing his apartment, high and impatient, asking how much longer you were going to be. âCome on, babe,â heâd said, already tugging at your shirt. âYouâll finish it later.â You shouldâve said no. You shouldâve finished it, you knew better. ây/nâŚâ Sunghoonâs voice was gentle beside you, too gentle, then you realized heâd seen the grade too. âIâm sorry-â You didnât let him finish.
Before the first slide even hit the projector, you grabbed your paper, shoved it into your bag, and bolted. ây/n?â your professor called out as the door closed behind you, but you didnât stop. The tears were already falling, hot and silent down your cheeks as your legs carried you on autopilot.Â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
Jay opened the door with a lazy grin. âHey, look who it is-â His expression dropped instantly when he saw your face. âWhoa, hey. Whatâs wrong?â
âIs Heeseung here?â you asked, voice hoarse. He shook his head, stepping back to let you in. âHe went out. Should be back soon, though.â You turned like you were about to leave, but Jay caught your wrist. âWait, come inside.â You hesitated, wavering on your feet. But then his arms opened, and your resolve broke. You fell into his chest, sobs wracking your body as he pulled you in close.
Jay guided you to the couch, settling in beside you without a word. His hand rubbed slow, steady circles along your back while you cried until your throat ached. âIâm so tired,â you finally whispered. âIâm tired of loving someone who doesnât want to love me back. He wants me to be his, but he doesnât want to be mine.â
Jay didnât respond right away. He let you speak, let your words settle between the two of you before he finally said, âYou know thatâs not fair to you, right?â You just stared at your hands, shaking in your lap. âI know. But I keep choosing him anyway.â You reached into your bag, your fingers clumsy, and pulled out the crumpled essay. âAnd now my lifeâs falling apart because of it.â You handed it to him, shame rushing up your throat. Jayâs brows knit together as he read the grade. âJesus. y/nâŚâ
âI was working on it that night and he kept trying to rush me so I could give him my attention. I was almost done, but he didnât want to wait.â
âAnd you dropped everything for him.â
âI always do,â you whispered.
He was quiet for a second, then gently nudged your leg with his. âHeeseung actually invited me out tonight. Some new bar opening nearby.â You looked over, startled. âJay, I canât.â His voice was calm, âJust hear me out. Come with me and just to talk to him.â You exhaled sharply, your head already shaking. âHe doesnât listen.â
âThen make him listen,â Jay said, more firm this time. âTell him what you told me. That youâre tired. That youâre drowning trying to hold up both of you. That youâre not asking him to change overnight but you are asking him to care enough to meet you halfway.â You swallowed hard. âWhat if he doesnât?â Jay shrugged. âThen youâll know. And I think deep down knowing is better than dragging this out in the dark.â He rested his hand on yours, âYou love him. Thatâs obvious. But love shouldnât break you down like this, y/n. Not over and over again.â
Your eyes welled again, but you held back the tears. Instead, you nodded slowly. âOkay. Iâll come.â Jay offered you a small, âGood, and hey⌠no matter what happens, I got you.â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The bass thumped through the floor of the bar, pulsing in your chest as you followed Jay inside. The space was crowded but stylish, with low amber lighting and a haze of laughter and smoke hanging in the air. You looked stunning but even with your makeup perfect and your dress hugging you in all the right places, something inside still felt off.
Jay leaned in close, his voice pitched low near your ear. âYou good?â You nodded, even if it was a lie. âLetâs just get a drink.â You posted up at the bar, side by side as you sipped your cocktails. You scanned the room absentmindedly, heart thudding against your ribs, wondering if tonight would finally be the night something changed between you and Heeseung.
Then Jay spotted him. âHeâs over there.â You turned as Jay nodded toward the far corner, where a group of guys lounged around a table with half-drunk beers and a few girls clinging to their arms. Heeseung sat relaxed and smirking until your eyes locked on the girl on his lap. She was curled against him like she belonged there, her lips attached to his neck, one hand teasing the hem of his shirt.
You froze. Jayâs jaw clenched. âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me.â Heeseung noticed Jay first, and he waved lazily, like nothing was wrong. It wasnât until you approached that his face dropped, and you didnât say a word.Â
ây/n..â
The girl was shoved off his lap without ceremony, confusion written all over her face. But you werenât looking at her. You were looking at him like youâd never seen him before. Like something inside you had finally snapped. You let out the smallest, most broken sigh, then turned to leave. Jay moved as if to follow you, but Heeseung reached for his arm and shook his head. âI got it.â Jay just stared him down like he might hit him, but he stepped back, lips pressed into a thin, hard line.
The air outside the bar was sharp and cool, biting at your skin as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to breathe. The muffled thump of bass inside faded behind you, but it couldnât drown out the sound of your heartbeat, loud and aching in your ears. You stood on the curb, phone pressed to your cheek.
âYeah⌠can you come get me?â Your voice cracked on the last word, barely above a whisper as you got Kira to come pick you up. The moment you hung up, you heard the door swing open behind you. ây/n.â You didnât turn, you couldnât. You kept your eyes on the street, watching headlights blur behind the film of tears already clouding your vision. âI didnât know you were gonna be here,â Heeseung said, his voice a little breathless. âShe meant nothing. I didnât even say two words to her before she climbed on top of me.â
You didnât respond, but your shoulders tensed. He noticed. âShe wasnât you,â he added. âShe never could be.â That got you to turn, enough to glance over your shoulder. Enough to let him see how wrecked you were, even beneath your makeup and perfect dress. âDo you even hear yourself?â you asked, your voice low and raw. âWhy was anyone on you in the first place?â He looked like he wanted to argue. Like he had excuses lined up. But instead, he stepped closer, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. âI was drunk. I was bored. Iâve been losing my fucking mind.â
You blinked, a tear slipping down your cheek before you could stop it. âIâm not good at this, Y/N. Iâm shit at it. But I swear I wasnât trying to hurt you.â His eyes searched yours, his voice a little quieter now. âIf Iâd known you were coming with Jay⌠I wouldnât have even looked at anyone else.â Your throat tightened. You hated how easily your heart twisted at his words. How even now, even like this, part of you still wanted to believe him.
âI didnât come here to fight,â you murmured. âThen donât,â he said, taking another step closer. âCome back inside, or come home with me. Let me fix this.â You turned to face him fully now, biting your cheek to stop the sob sitting at the base of your throat. âHeeseungâŚâ you started, but your voice faltered.
He saw it, the softening in your eyes, the hesitation in your stance. The way your hands twitched like you didnât know whether to shove him or hold him. He saw it all, and his mouth curved into the smallest smirk, hopeful and cocky all at once. âI knew you wouldnât walk away that easy,â he said under his breath, stepping forward again, close enough now that you could smell him. Close enough to pull you back in. But before he could reach you, headlights flashed across both your faces.
Kiraâs car.
You wiped your cheek fast, hoping she didnât notice. As she pulled up to the curb, you turned back to Heeseung, taking one shaky breath. âIâm not done with this conversation,â you admitted. âBut I canât do this right now.â
He opened his mouth again, ready to talk you down, smooth things over, maybe even kiss his way out of the wreckage but the door to Kiraâs car swung open with a quiet click, and the moment slipped through his fingers like smoke. You slid into the passenger seat without another word, not even looking back as Kira pulled away. Heeseung stood on the sidewalk, watching the car disappear, jaw tight and eyes glinting with the ghost of a grin. Because for better or worse, he knew it wasnât over.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The morning was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt heavy rather than peaceful. You stood outside Heeseung and Jayâs apartment, your arms crossed against the early chill, uncertainty churning in your stomach like a storm on the brink. You didnât even remember the walk here. Your legs had carried you on instinct, like some pathetic magnetic pull that wouldnât let you stay away.
You raised your hand and knocked softly on the door, almost like part of you hoped he wouldnât answer, but he did.
Heeseung opened the door looking like he hadnât slept, eyes red, hair a mess, the fabric of his hoodie wrinkled and worn. For a second, he just blinked at you, as if unsure you were real. Then he stepped back silently, letting you in. You didnât speak as you made your way to his room, the familiar scent of his cologne and faint smoke clinging to everything around you. You sat on the edge of his bed while he shut the door behind him. The air felt thick, like it could snap under the weight of whatever you were about to say.
He sat beside you, a little too close. âI donât know how much more of this I can take,â you said quietly, hands resting in your lap, fingers digging into your own skin. âIâm tired, Heeseung. Everything in my life is falling apart, and I donât even recognize myself anymore. And itâs not fair. I shouldnât feel this⌠pathetic.â He didnât say anything at first. Just let your words hang in the air between you. Then, finally he whispered, âI know.â You turned to look at him. âDo you?â
Heeseungâs jaw tensed. âI know Iâve hurt you. Iâve been selfish, and Iâve dragged you into my mess. But I meant what I said last night. I wasnât trying to hurt you, Y/N. I justâŚâ He trailed off, shaking his head. âIâm not good at this. Iâm scared of needing someone like I need you.â You stayed quiet, heart hammering in your chest, desperate for something real from him. âIâm not ready,â he admitted, voice low. âNot for the kind of love you deserve. Not yet. But I swear to God, Iâm trying. And I donât want you to leave me before I figure it out.â Your throat tightened. You hated him a little for saying the right things. For always knowing just how much honesty to give to keep you hanging on.
âI canât keep putting my life on hold for someone who wonât choose me,â you whispered. âI am choosing you,â he said, reaching for your hand. âJust not in the way you want. Not yet. But I will.â You looked down at your joined hands. His thumb brushed softly over your knuckles, slow and reverent, like maybe he knew how close you were to walking away. âI need time,â he said again. âBut I donât want to lose you. Please donât make me lose you.â
Your heart ached with how badly you wanted to believe him. And then, he leaned in and placed a genuine kiss on your lips. Not rushed, not greedy. Just a kiss. Sweet and gentle, which was rare for Heeseung. It didnât burn like normal, you completely melted into him, and that was the problem. When he pulled back, your eyes were still closed. You breathed in slowly, âOkay,â you whispered. âBut I canât keep waiting forever.â
âI know,â he said. âI wonât make you.â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
It had been months since that night at the bar. Somehow, Heeseung had surprised you. After that, he showed up. Not in grand, sweeping gestures, but in smaller ways. Less disappearing, fewer girls, and a real effort to be present. He still got high more often than you liked, but he wasnât the same careless version of himself. There were even days he stayed sober just for you. He still refused to label what the two of you had, but there was no denying it anymore, you were his. And despite everything, he was still yours.
Finals came and went in a blur. You buried yourself in your notes, slept less, ate less, and practically lived in the library. Heeseung didnât love it. He was pissy about the time you spent away, complained under his breath, picked little fights but when you reminded him how important this was to you, heâd try to pull it back. You knew he didnât mean to be cold. It was just that being second to anything, including your future, never sat well with him.
So when your final marks came in, high scores across the board, including a ninety-six on the rewritten essay that had nearly broken you, you practically floated to his apartment. You didnât knock anymore, you hadnât for months. Jay barely looked up from the couch when you breezed in. âHeeseungâs in his room,â he mumbled through a mouthful of chips.
Your heart pounded with something close to glee as you padded down the hallway. For once, it felt like things were right again. The pressure was off your shoulders, and all you wanted was to share this victory with the person who made you feel like magic even on your worst days. You pushed open the door, and he was on the edge of his bed, hunched over, dollar bill between his fingers, a thin white line in front of him on the desk. He didnât flinch when you walked in. Just looked up, red-eyed and lazy-smiled. "Youâre here," he said, voice low and drowsy. You didnât hesitate. You were in his lap before he could blink, cupping his face and pressing your lips to his. "I did it," you whispered between kisses. "I killed those exams, and got the makeup essay back too, your girl got a ninety-six."
His hands landed on your waist. "Of course you did. Youâre brilliant." You kissed him harder, and he returned it, sloppier than usual but still full of heat. Then, somewhere between his hands gripping your hips and his lips trailing up your jaw, he murmured, âYou deserve better than me.â You froze. Just for a moment. âWhat?â
He pulled back, brushing his thumb across your cheek. âYouâre up here,â he said, motioning vaguely upward, âand Iâm down here, snorting lines off my goddamn desk.â You gave a breathless laugh, like heâd just told a bad joke. âStop. Donât ruin this.â
âIâm not trying to,â he said. âIâm just being real.â The air in the room shifted. He kissed you again, slower, deeper, more tender, and when he pulled back, his voice was barely a whisper. âYou can do better than me.â
âNo,â you said immediately, pulling yourself off of his lap, âDonât say that.â
âI mean it.â He breathed out, lips pink from the kiss you two had just shared. âHeeseung..â
âYouâre the kind of girl who makes it. Full ride, top of your class. Everyone sees it but you. And Iâm the guy who drags you out of study sessions to fuck, who gets high instead of helping you write your essays.â The tears start to form in your eyes, the feeling of whats about to come claws at your throat and shakes your entire body. âI donât care. None of that matters to me. I donât want any of it without you.â
And thatâs when he breaks. Itâs not loud. Not dramatic. Itâs subtle in the way his jaw tightens, the way he blinks a few times too fast, the way his breath hitches and his eyes gloss over, but you see it. He doesnât cry, not fully, but the tears are threatening to fall. âYou donât want this life,â he says, voice low and brittle. âYou think you do now, but you donât know what itâs like to drown in it. Youâd ruin yourself trying to save me.â
âI want to ruin myself for you!â you scream, throat sore from the truth of it. âI would do anything just to keep you. I donât care what it costs me.â And itâs like a switch flips in him. His expression twists, darkens. He stands suddenly, turning away from you like he canât bear to look. âThatâs the problem,â he snaps, voice sharp now. âYouâd throw everything away. Your future, your mind, your fucking soul for me? What kind of person lets someone do that for them?â He spins back toward you, breathing heavily. âYou say I donât hold you back, but I do. I already have. Look at you.â
You flinch like heâs slapped you. His chest heaves, while yours trembles. The room feels too small for the storm youâre both creating. âYou think I want you to end up like me?â he says, quieter now, but with just as much heat. âSnorting lines in the dark because itâs the only way I know how to function? Youâre not built for this, y/n.â You take a step forward, desperate. âThen help me understand it, let me in, HeeâŚâ
âNo!â he shouts, eyes wide now. âI canât let you in. You donât belong here with me.â Your voice cracks as you plead, âThen let me love you, please, youâre my life.â Heeseung stares at you like youâre breaking his heart just by standing there. And maybe you are. Then, something in his eyes shifts. The fight drains out of him all at once. His shoulders fall. His brows pinch like heâs physically in pain. He steps forward slowly, and he presses the softest, most painful kiss to your forehead. His lips linger there longer than they should. As if trying to memorize the way your skin feels before he forgets what warmth is.
âIâll probably never love anyone the way I love you,â he murmurs into your hair. You shut your eyes tight. âThen donât let me go.â He pulls back, and this time when he looks at you, itâs like heâs already saying goodbye. âI have to.â Your hands fall limp at your sides, you donât protest again. Thereâs no grand door slam. No final dramatic words. Just the sound of your footsteps as you walk out of his room and down the hall.Â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
It had been a month. A month since Heeseung kissed your forehead and told you to leave. You hadnât left your bed much since it happened. Your sheets still smelled like him, and you refused to wash them. The air in your room was stale, but you didnât open a window. You just laid there, still, like a corpse.Â
Every single one of your friends had tried. Mina was the first. Sheâd climbed into bed with you in the early days, stroking your hair while you stared at the wall. She ordered in your favourite food, but you hadnât touched a bite. Kira had shown up next, with a playlist titled âHealing Shit (or at least trying)â and a bag full of overpriced face masks. But your face stayed buried in your pillow, unmoving, no matter how gently she whispered your name. Koda and Wren came as a pair. They took turns talking to you like it was a script they rehearsed, one soft and hopeful, the other blunt and real. But even they couldnât pull you from the hollow place youâd sunk into. Not even Kodaâs dumb jokes could summon a smile.
And now it was Jay and Sunghoon. You heard the front door creak open from your spot in bed. You knew it was them before they even reached your room. Something about the heaviness of their footsteps. The way their voices dropped in the hallway like they were already mourning what they were about to see. ây/n?â Jay said your name softly, like he wasnât sure youâd still respond to it, but you didnât. Sunghoon stepped in behind him, his brows creased with concern. âHey. Can we talk?â
Your body curled deeper into the mattress, a feeble attempt at self-preservation. You didnât look at them, didnât blink, just stared at the nothingness in front of you. Jay approached first. âCome on,â he murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed. âWe miss you. Just... say something.â When you didnât, he laid beside you, hesitantly at first. One arm slid around your trembling frame as he tucked you into his chest, like maybe he could hold your pieces together before they shattered again. Thatâs when it hit. The sob tore out of you like it had been clawing up your throat for days. A horrible, guttural sound, ugly and loud and drenched in everything you hadnât said. Jay just held you tighter, his jaw clenched as he buried his chin in your hair.
Sunghoon sat down on the floor beside the bed, leaning against the frame. His voice was low, soothing. âYouâre not alone, y/n. Weâre here. We all are. And weâre not going anywhere.â You still didnât speak. Couldnât. You just cried until your chest ached and your tears soaked through Jayâs shirt. You didnât know how to live without Heeseung, and you werenât even sure you wanted to. You cried until your mind shut off and you drifted into a tear induced slumber, you didnât notice when they finally left.
Back at the apartment, Jay shut the front door behind them with a sigh, tossing his keys into their key bowl. Sunghoon didnât say anything until they reached the kitchen, and when he did, it wasnât lighthearted. âSheâs not okay,â he said quietly, grabbing two glasses out of the cupboard. âLike, not at all.â Heeseung was sitting on the couch, slumped low, eyes glassy. The remnants of a high clung to his skin with a thin sheen of sweat, and faint tremble in his hands. He didnât look up or didnât speak up. He just listened.
Jay leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his voice laced with worry. âI donât even recognize her anymore, Hoon. She used to be the brightest one out of all of us. Now she wonât even look at me. Just lies there like sheâs waiting to disappear.â Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. âSheâs not eating. Mina said she hasnât left her room in almost a week. I saw like five unopened water bottles on her nightstand. Sheâs not okay, man.â
âShe's not even y/n anymore,â Jay added. Heeseungâs throat went dry. He stared blankly at the coffee table, at the rolled-up bill and the near-empty bag of coke. His chest caved in around the weight of their words. His stomach churned. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth, trying to breathe. They were talking about her. He destroyed her, and now she was unraveling exactly the way he thought she would if he stayed with her. He stood up slowly, barely steady on his feet, and disappeared down the hallway. The door to his bedroom shut quietly behind him. And for the first time in weeks, maybe even months, he didnât reach for the coke. He just sat there on the edge of his bed, face in his hands, and tried to figure out how to live with the ruin heâd made of the only person who ever loved him like he was worth saving.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
It took everything you had just to lift your body out of bed. You moved like youâd been underwater for weeks, every motion slow, unsteady, and heavy. Your legs shook beneath you as you shuffled toward the bathroom. You didnât even register the mirror hanging on the wall, you didnât want to see yourself. You just turned on the shower, stripped out of clothes that smelled like you hadnât changed out of them in days, and stepped under the scalding stream.
You stood there longer than you needed to. By the time you emerged, your skin was red and raw, your eyes already puffy again. You dried off in silence, tugged on your hoodie, well his hoodie, and slipped your wallet into the front pocket. When you walked into the living room, Mina and Kira were curled up on the couch. They looked up at you like they were seeing a ghost slowly reassemble itself. âIâm going for a walk,â you murmured, barely above a whisper. Kira straightened. âWant us to come?â You shook your head in response. âJust need some air. Iâll be back in a week.â They blinked. âWhat?â You forced a faint, brittle smile. âKidding.â But your tone was unconvincing, you just walked out before they could press further.
The late afternoon wind cut at your cheeks as you walked aimlessly, hood up, headphones in, playlist on loop. The same seven songs youâd been playing for the last twenty-eight days. Lyrics you could mouth with your eyes closed, melodies that buried themselves in your bones.
You didnât know how long you wandered before you reached your destination. One of the countless places he used to drag you to. A forgotten street, somewhere between two buildings that always looked like they were on the verge of collapse. You hung back near a busted fence, pretending to scroll on your phone while keeping an eye out. Eventually, you saw him. Heeseungs dealer. You made your way over slowly. He looked up as you approached, and recognition flickered in his eyes. âHeeseungâs girl,â he smirked, and you didnât respond.
âI want a bag,â you said plainly. âWhatever youâve got.â The man looked you over. âYou ever done this before?â You didnât answer, causing him to chuckle to himself like it was all a joke. But he still handed you the small plastic bag. You passed him two crumpled twenties from your hoodie pocket. He pocketed the cash and gave you a lazy nod.
âDonât take the whole thing at once,â he muttered. âItâs strong.â You didnât care. You walked until your feet hurt. Until you found a lonely curb near some graffiti covered alley, and you sat down. Your hands trembled as you opened the bag. You watched the powder shift. It looked like nothing and everything at once. Just like him. You shook a little onto the back of your hand, like youâd seen him do a hundred times. Tilted your wrist. Bent forward. But the second the powder neared your face, something inside you cracked. The tears came hard, you couldnât stop them if you tried.
You pulled your hand away, the powder falling across the asphalt. You clutched the bag with shaking fingers, stuffed it back into your pocket, and stood up like your legs were no longer yours. You didnât even realize where you were walking until you were standing in front of his apartment. The air felt thinner there. You knocked once, and the door swung open quicker than you expected. Jay stood there, mouth parting as soon as he saw your face. You knew what you looked like. Your cheeks were blotchy, and your eyes glassy. You didnât even try to hide it. ây/n,â he said quietly. âPlease donât do this.â
âI need to see him,â you whispered. Jay glanced over his shoulder into the apartment like he was searching for an excuse. âYouâre stronger than this. Youâve made it this far.â You shook your head, a small sob catching in your throat. âI canât.. I just canât.â He looked at you again, really looked. His expression softened, falling into something helpless and hollow. You didnât need to say anything else, Jay stepped aside.
You donât even knock on his door, you simply turn the doorknob and step inside, the air heavy and quiet, thick with the scent of old smoke and something sharper, something chemical that instantly floods your chest with memories. Heeseung is on his bed, a half-empty glass in one hand, his phone in the other. But the moment the door creaks open and he looks up and he freezes like heâs seen a ghost.
His entire face drops as your eyes meet his. The weight of everything youâve been holding in for the last month finally collapses. You burst into tears. ây/n?â Heâs already standing, his voice strained with disbelief. âWhat the hell are you doing here?â
But you donât speak. You just walk toward him, your legs barely steady, and reach into the pocket of your hoodie. You pull out the small bag of white powder, trembling fingers clenched around it like it burns to hold, and you drop it into his palm like itâs evidence. His expression shatters instantly. âNo⌠no, baby, what the fuck is this?â he says, panic rising in his voice. He grips your wrist, gently but firm, and steps closer, cupping your face in both hands. âDid you⌠did you take this?â
You shake your head, eyes wide and streaming. âI couldnât.â His thumbs brush over your tear-soaked cheeks as he tilts your head up, examining your nose like it holds the answer. When he sees itâs clean, he exhales in relief and closes his eyes, forehead falling against yours. Neither of you speaks for a long moment. The silence is filled with your sniffles, his staggered breath, the steady beat of time holding its breath, then he pulls you into him.
You crumble against his chest, sobbing so violently your knees nearly give out. His arms wrap around you like heâs afraid of letting you go again. âI love you,â you cry into his hoodie, fists clutching the fabric at his back. âI love you and I canât live without you, Heeseung. This past month⌠I wasnât living, it was torture. It still is.â
âI love you too,â he breathes against your hair, his voice cracking like something inside him is breaking open. âBut Iâm not good. Iâm not safe. Iâm a monster, and youâre⌠fuck, youâre pure light. Youâre everything good and I donât want to take that from you.â
âMy light doesnât exist without you,â you whisper, pulling back just enough to look at him. Your eyes are glassy and red-rimmed, your face flushed from the storm that still hasnât passed. He just stares at you, jaw tight, guilt swimming in every line of his expression. âYouâre my worst desire,â you murmur. âHeaven would be hell without you. And even if weâre doomed to it, Iâd still choose hell as long as youâre there.â
His brows knit together, like heâs trying to process your words and stop himself from falling into them all at once. âI donât want to live without you,â you say again, firmer this time. âMy love isnât conditional. I donât care about what youâve done or where you are or what you think youâre becoming. The only place anything feels right is with you.â His chest rises and falls, slow and heavy. âIâm torn, Y/N. Between you and this deeper desire I keep giving into. This path Iâm on⌠itâs dark and itâs fucked and I know itâs going to destroy me. And I donât want it to take you too.â
You reach up, fingers touching his jaw, gentle and warm. âBut I want you. Even through the dark times.â He swallows hard. âI want you. I want to be with you. I want to love you⌠but I never wanted to destroy you.â
âYou wonât,â you whisper, âunless you keep pushing me away.â The war behind his eyes rages on but then, slowly, it softens. His hand lifts to cradle your cheek again, thumb brushing just below your eye. âI donât know how to stop loving you,â he murmurs. âThen donât.â You donât know who moves first. Maybe you both do. But the second your mouths meet, itâs like something primal takes over. He kisses you like heâs been drowning and youâre the first breath of air heâs had in weeks. Thereâs nothing careful about it now, his hands in your hair, your arms around his neck, bodies crashing together like gravity had finally snapped.
Itâs a kiss born from heartbreak, from survival, from all the pieces of your souls trying to find home in each other again. His mouth is hot and desperate against yours, tasting of longing and regret, of everything youâve both wanted and tried to deny. When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen, your chest heaving, your heart pounding so loud youâre surprised he canât hear it.
Heeseung doesnât let you go, his lips hover above yours, breath warm and shallow, and for a moment neither of you speaks. You just stay pressed together, hands curled in his shirt, his fingers brushing along your jaw like heâs trying to memorize the curve of your face all over again. Then he kisses you again, slower this time.
His hands cup your cheeks, and your fingers tangle in his hair as he pours every unsaid word into your mouth. Itâs messy and a little frantic, but softer than before. Softer because this time, thereâs no desperation behind it, just clarity. âI love you,â he breathes against your lips, barely pulling away. âFuck, I love you so much.â You nod, tears still slipping down your cheeks. âI love you too.â He rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut like heâs trying not to fall apart again. âIâll try to quit. I swear to you, Iâll try. I donât want to keep losing myself and I canât live without you. Not again.â Your hands tighten around him. âI want to be yours,â he says. âLike really yours. Your boyfriend. I want to be better, for you. I want to try.â
Your breath catches in your throat, then youâre nodding, over and over, and your arms wrap tighter around his neck as you pull him into another kiss, this one slower, and sweeter, like the kind of kiss youâd always hoped heâd give you when it finally felt right. Heeseungâs hands slide beneath your thighs, and with no effort at all, he lifts you off the ground and carried you towards his bed. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, your face tucked into the crook of his neck.Â
He lays you down carefully on the bed, then slides in beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms like heâs scared youâll disappear if he blinks. You donât speak for a while, you just lie there, tangled up together in the dark, wrapped in sheets that still faintly smell like him. His hand strokes your hair, your back, the curve of your hip. You feel his lips press gently to your forehead, your cheeks, the bridge of your nose.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers between kisses. âFor everything. For leaving you. For making you feel like I didnât care. I was scared. I still am.â You reach up and trace his jaw with your thumb, your heart aching at how sincere his eyes look in the dim room. âItâs okay,â you whisper. âYouâre here now. Weâre here now.â He leans in, brushes your lips with his. âIâll be better for you.â
âYou already are.â You press your face into his chest and he holds you tighter. His heartbeat is loud beneath your ear, and for the first time in what feels like forever, it doesnât feel like your body is made of hollow spaces and shattered glass. It feels like safety.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
You wake up to the sound of his breathing. It was slow, steady, almost peaceful. For a moment, you let yourself believe that last night wasnât a dream. That the pain is over, the ache behind you, and this is the start of something real. His arm is slung around your waist, warm and heavy, anchoring you to the mattress. You barely slept, too afraid heâd disappear again. But now, in the soft haze of morning, wrapped in his arms, you let your eyes close just for a second.
Until he stirs behind you. You feel the subtle shift in his body. The way his breath catches in his throat. His arm retracts like your skin burned him. âWaitâŚâ his voice rasps, still thick with sleep, âwhat the fuckâŚâ Your stomach drops, as you turn slowly, blinking at him like maybe youâre the one whoâs confused. âWhat?â
His eyes are wide and bloodshot. Thereâs dried powder crusted faintly under one nostril and a tiny streak still smeared across the back of his hand. âWhat are you doing here?â he asks, genuine confusion etched across his face. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Youâre too stunned, too disoriented by the sharp contrast to the boy who held you like you were the only thing tethering him to the earth just hours ago.
âI came over last night⌠You said you loved me,â you finally whisper. âYou said you wanted to try. That you didnât want to lose me.â He stares, the silence between you gnaws at your chest like something alive. âI donâtâŚâ he swallows. âFuck, I donât remember that.â The words hit you harder than a slap. You sit up too fast, the sheets falling away from your body as you shake your head. âYou donât remember anything?â His eyes flicker. Guilt creeps in slowly. âI was coming down. Iâd done a lot before you showed up. I didnât know-â
âSo it didnât matter?â you cut him off, voice barely above a whisper. âNone of it was real?â
âI didnât say that,â he snaps, defensive now. âDonât twist my words.â
âIâm not twisting anything. You donât even remember me being here.â Your voice trembles. âYou donât remember kissing me. You said youâd try to quit. You asked me to stay.â He runs both hands through his hair like he wants to rip it out. âI meant it, okay? I meant it in the moment.â
âBut the momentâs gone,â you say bitterly, standing from the bed. âAnd now weâre here.â Heeseung gets up too, anger simmering under his skin. âWhat, you want me to magically fix everything overnight? You think itâs that simple?â
âI never said that.â
âThen what do you want, Y/N? You want me to turn into someone Iâm not?â
âI want you to have not been high last night!â you yell, the words coming out strangled. âI want you to care! I want you to stop making me feel like Iâm the only one whoâs trying!â Heâs pacing now, barefoot on the floor, frantic and twitchy. âYou donât get it. You donât know what itâs like in my head. Iâm not built for this shit.â
âI know youâre not,â you say, voice cracking. âBut I thought maybe youâd try. For me.â He freezes. His back is to you, shoulders tense. âI want to. I just⌠I donât think I can.â You feel it again, that collapse inside your chest. The same one youâve been patching together with hope and denial for months. âThen say it,â you whisper. âSay you donât want this. Say you donât want me.â He turns slowly, and something in his face softens. It almost breaks you. âI do want you,â he admits. âBut I want this too.â He gestures vaguely to the room, the remnants of his high, the destruction he clings to like a security blanket. âAnd that makes me a monster.â
You step back like the words physically hurt. âYou said I was your angel.â
âYou are.â His voice cracks. âWhich is why I need you to go.â You shake your head. âYou told me you loved me.â
âI do,â he breathes. âGod, I do. But Iâll ruin you.â
âYou already did. I just got you back, HeeseungâŚâ
The silence stretches thick between you. Then he takes a step forward, like he might try to hold you, but you back away. You canât do this again, not when he couldnât even remember the night before. He swallows hard, eyes glassy. âPlease,â he says, voice barely audible. âDonât make me watch you walk away.â You blink back tears, throat tight. âThen give me a reason to stay.â
But he doesnât. So you do the one thing you swore you never would.
You leave.
And like always, he lets you go.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
four months later
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
Four months pass in the blink of an eye. The day is warm, the sun soft and golden overhead as you stand with Mina, Kira, Koda, and Wren, all dressed in your black gowns and sashes, your caps still held in your hands. The air around you buzzes with excitement, laughter, and the kind of bittersweet energy that only comes with the closing of a chapter. The moment your names are called, one by one, a flood of emotions washes over you. Pride, relief, even a sense of sadness.
And then youâre all standing in a circle, diplomas in hand, faces flushed with joy, and on the count of three, you throw your caps into the air, the five of you screaming and laughing as they soar above your heads and fall like confetti. It should feel like the beginning of everything. And in a way, it does. But for you, itâs also the end.
After the ceremony, you spot Sunghoon weaving through the crowd, his smile blinding, a massive bouquet of deep red roses tucked under his arm. He beelines straight for Koda, scooping her up into a tight hug, lifting her right off the ground as she squeals in surprise. âProud of you, babe,â he grins, pressing a kiss to her temple. Then he turns to the rest of you, handing off flowers and congratulations like theyâre going out of style. He hugs you next, warm and genuine and it makes your eyes sting just a little.
Before you can blink, someone else wraps their arms around you from behind. âGraduated and still short,â Jay teases into your ear. You laugh despite yourself and lean into the embrace. âI missed you too, asshole,â you say, wiping your cheek quickly as if thatâll hide how emotional you are. He holds you for a second longer, then pulls back, flashing you that crooked grin. âProud of you. You did it.â You force a smile at his words, but it doesnât quite reach your eyes.
Later that night, you all cram into a booth at your favorite Korean BBQ spot, the table stacked with plates of sizzling meat, clinking glasses, and side dishes passed back and forth. Everyoneâs talking over each other, laughing too loud, singing along to whatever songs are playing overhead. Kira leans into you, whispering about how Wren made eyes at the waiter. Minaâs halfway into her second soju bottle. Koda is pressed into Sunghoonâs side like a missing piece finally clicked into place.
Itâs familiar, and yet you feel like youâre watching it from behind glass. When Jay offers to drive you home, you donât hesitate.
The apartment feels quieter than usual. Like the walls know something is ending. Youâre sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of your suitcase, folding your last hoodie with shaking hands. The corners donât line up properly, but you canât bring yourself to refold it again. Your fingers are trembling too hard. Jay stands by your desk, watching you in silence. Heâs been quiet since you let him in. He hasnât touched his drink. He hasnât touched anything.
You try to lighten the mood, forcing a soft chuckle as you zip your suitcase closed. âGuess thatâs everything.â Jay doesnât smile. âDoesnât feel like everything.â You glance up at him. Heâs staring at your suitcase like it just punched him in the gut. You swallow hard, âJayâŚâ
âAre you sure about this?â You turn away, pretending to check the zipper again even though itâs fine. âI wouldnât be doing it if I wasnât.â He takes a few steps closer. The floor creaks beneath his feet. âYou donât have to go, Y/N. You really donât. You could stay. Start over. We could help you.â Your chest tightens. You press your palm flat against the suitcase like itâll keep you grounded. âI canât stay here,â you whisper. âEverything here reminds me of him.â Jay exhales sharply, and itâs the closest thing to a crack in his composure youâve ever seen.
âY/NâŚâ He drags a hand through his hair and sits down beside you on the floor. He doesnât touch you, but you can feel the warmth of him beside you, like a question. âI thought leaving would make it easier,â you admit, voice trembling. âBut all I feel is like Iâm abandoning him.â Jay finally meets your eyes, and your resolve breaks.Â
The tears come without warning, hot and relentless, blurring your vision as you lean into him and bury your face in his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, holding you like heâs been waiting months to do it, like maybe if he holds you tight enough, he can keep you from slipping away. You sob into his hoodie, shaking like a leaf. âI donât know how to do this. I donât know how to leave him behind.â
Jayâs hand finds the back of your head, gentle, grounding. âYou donât have to leave him behind forever,â he murmurs. âJust long enough to find yourself again.â You pull back slowly, your cheeks soaked, your throat raw. âPromise me something?â He nods without hesitation. âLook after him. Please. I know heâs not easy. I know heâs⌠a lot. But Iâm terrified heâll destroy himself without someone watching.â Jayâs jaw tenses. âYou really love him, huh?â You nod. âWith everything. Even when I shouldnât.â
He reaches for your hand, squeezes it tightly. âIâll watch over him. I promise. But you have to promise me something too.â You look at him through watery eyes. âDonât disappear. Call sometimes. Text. Hell, send a postcard.â You let out a wet laugh and nod, then fall forward into his arms again, hugging him like itâs the last piece of safety youâll get to hold onto. âLet me take you to the airport tomorrow?â he says against your hair.
You nod into his chest. âYeah. Please.â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The blinds in Heeseungâs room are drawn, bathing everything in a murky shade of grey. His ashtray is full. The rolled-up twenty on his desk is crooked and frayed at the edge from too many nights like this. Heâs flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling like it holds answers. His jaw ticks, fingers drumming against his stomach. Thereâs a weight in his chest that wonât budge, no matter how many hits he takes.
The door creaks open without a knock. Itâs Jay. Heeseung doesnât look. Doesnât move. Just closes his eyes and lets out a long breath through his nose.
âSheâs leaving.â The words land like a punch to the ribs, causing Heeseung to blink his eyes open. âHuh?â
Jay steps further inside. âY/N. Sheâs moving. Tomorrow. âIâm taking her to the airport.â Heeseung sits up too fast, his heart dropping into his gut. âYouâre lying.â
âIâm not.â A long pause followed. Heeseung scoffs, running a hand through his already mussed hair, the tension rippling through his limbs like a pulled wire. âSo let her go.â Jayâs expression flattens. âAre you serious right now?â Heeseung shrugs, but his eyes donât match the indifference in his voice. âShe wants to leave. Let her.â
âShe doesnât want to leave, Heeseung. Sheâs hurting. Because of you.â
âWell, maybe she shouldâve thought about that before falling for a fucking loser.â Jayâs voice goes sharp. âYouâre not a loser. Youâre just a fucking coward.â Heeseungâs head snaps toward him. âYou think I donât know what I am?!â His voice cracks. âYou think I havenât been dying every fucking day since I told her to go?!â
âThen why didnât you stop her?!â
âBECAUSE IâM IN LOVE WITH HER!â Heeseung roars, pushing up to his feet with such force the chair beside his desk shakes. His chest heaves, eyes wild and glassy. Jay doesnât back down. âThen fight for her.â
âI did!â Heeseung yells again, slamming a hand against the wall hard enough to make a picture frame rattle. âI fought by letting her go. She was dying here! Dying because of me. She had everything in front of her and I kept dragging her back into my mess-â
âSo clean up the fucking mess!â
Heeseungâs fists ball at his sides. Jayâs breathing hard now, too. âYou sit here pretending youâre some tragic antihero who saved her by breaking her heart. But thatâs not love, Heeseung. Thatâs fear.â
The words hang heavy, and Heeseung doesnât respond. Jay stares at him a moment longer, jaw clenched, eyes filled with something halfway between rage and heartbreak. âYou still have time to fix this. But if you donât even try⌠then maybe you never really loved her in the first place.â Jay turned and storms out. The door slams so hard the walls shake. Heeseung doesnât move, barely breathes.
He lowers himself back onto his bed, collapsing like his body has nothing left to give. He stares at the ceiling again, but this time, his eyes burn. His thoughts race, every image of you, every soft whisper, every tear youâd shed, every moment he threw away playing like a reel behind his eyes.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The airport smells like burnt coffee and fresh paper. You stand beside Jay at your gate, your suitcase at your feet, ticket clutched loosely in one hand, passport in the other. Your hoodie sleeves are pulled over your knuckles, and your headphones hang useless around your neck, silent for once. Jay is quiet next to you, his arm brushing yours every so often in silent solidarity. He knows better than to fill the silence with small talk.
Then, the presence of your friend group livens up the airport. You hear them before you see them, but you couldnât mistake Kodaâs excited voice carrying over the low hum of travel noise. You turn and see her weaving through the crowd, pulling Sunghoon behind her with one hand, the other waving high above her head. Behind them are Kira, Mina, and Wren, all bundled in mismatched layers, like theyâd rushed out the door without checking the weather.
The sight makes your throat tighten.
They all reach you at once, surrounding you in hugs and laughter that feels too bright for how heavy your chest feels. Kira grabs your hands in hers and squeezes, her smile watery. Mina wipes her eyes before the tears even fall. Wren just hugs you so tightly your back cracks. âIâm proud of you,â Koda says, pressing her forehead against yours. âI canât believe youâre actually going,â Sunghoon mutters, voice quiet but sincere. You try to smile. âMe either.â
But as they all talk over each other, asking about your flight, telling you to text them when you land, suggesting a ridiculous group chat name, your eyes canât help but drift toward the crowd behind them, like youâre searching. Jay catches the glance. He doesnât say anything right away. Just watches you for a long moment before gently tugging on your sleeve. âHeâs not coming.â
You blink, startled by how calmly he says it. âI talked to him,â Jay continues, keeping his voice low so the others wonât overhear. âBut⌠I donât think heâll show.â You nod, eyes dropping to the floor. You expected it, you told yourself not to hope. But hope is cruel. Hope has a sharp edge.
âI know,â you whisper. âItâs okay.â Jay doesnât say anything. He knows itâs not okay. But he nods like it is, and youâre grateful for it. The loudspeaker crackles overhead, boarding group numbers being called. You glance down at your ticket. Thatâs you. âWell,â you say, forcing a bright smile, âthatâs me.â You start hugging everyone again, slower this time. Thereâs something about knowing itâs going to be the last one for a while that makes your arms ache to hold onto them longer.
âYouâll call, right?â Kira whispers into your shoulder. âEvery day,â you promise. Jay is the last one you face. His arms wrap around you with a familiarity that makes your heart ache in a different way. âThank you,â you murmur. âFor what?â He asks with a small chuckle to his voice. âFor everything.â He squeezes you a little tighter. âI got you. Always.â And still, your eyes flick one more time to the crowd, searching for dark eyes, messy hair, broad shoulders. One more time for the boy who made and broke your heart all at once, but heâs not there. So you pick up your bag, and you walk away, waving goodbye to your friends as you approached your gate..
And you donât look back.
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
The moment the plane touched down, a strange stillness settled in your chest. You were exhausted, emotionally rung out, and yet the moment the pilot announced your arrival in Sydney, Australia, your body moved on autopilot. New country. New air. New version of you.
You weave through the crowd in the airport, dodging people with overstuffed carry-ons and neck pillows clinging to their shoulders. Your headphones are around your neck now, but theyâre quiet. The music that once drowned everything out is replaced by the hum of unfamiliar accents and baggage claim announcements. Your heart is thudding a little too loud as you make your way toward the carousel, scanning for your suitcase. Itâs a sea of black and navy bags, all tumbling past with urgency, like they know where theyâre going.Â
Someone steps in front of you just as your bag slides into view, and you donât see them in time. The collision is instant and forceful, your shoulder hits theirs, your foot catches something, and the next thing you know, youâre both on the ground, bags and limbs tangled in a graceless heap of chaos.
âOh my god⌠Iâm so sorry, are you okay?â you gasp, sitting up and scrambling to gather your bearings. âNo, no, that was me, I wasnât watching, shit are you alright?â a voice responds, rushed and sincere. Your hand brushes his arm as you both reach for the same fallen backpack. And then your eyes meet. Warm brown eyes. Tousled blond hair. Sun-kissed skin. A dimple threatening the corner of his cheek as he smiles sheepishly. Thereâs a pause. A stillness. The universe, just for a moment, seems to exhale.
You blink, and then he extends a hand to help you up, fingers curling gently around yours with a touch that doesnât feel like a beginning, but like something inevitable.
âIâm Jake.â
Ë ŕźâĄ â･Ë
a/n ; omg guys I can't believe bad desire is finally here. I've been working on this fanfic for LITERALLY months, and then when bad desire came out I knew I had to find someway to incorporate it. but anyways, thank you so much for the love you gave the teaser and I hope you all like the full story! maybe there's room for a part two?
tag list ; @lostgirlysstuff @hoonprksung @nithxhoon @rayofsunshineeee @wooyugta @fancypeacepersona
