relationship advice?
don’t.

@theartofmadeline

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occasionally subtle
i don't do bad sauce passes

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Mike Driver
One Nice Bug Per Day
tumblr dot com

shark vs the universe
Jules of Nature

Kaledo Art

PR's Tumblrdome
Claire Keane
cherry valley forever

oozey mess
KIROKAZE

ellievsbear
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

JVL

seen from Türkiye

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@hwhjsthetic
relationship advice?
don’t.
d͟eᥣׁׅ֪icꪱᜒou𝘀 sωe♡⃞e𝙩
˖ ♥︎ ۪ ࣪ jungwon x fem reader perv son!won dry humping scissoring making out
almost getting caught slight dubcon? dirty talking faxcest edging?
inspired by @hevanmade
don’t like, don’t read.
perv son!jungwon who just can't help himself around you!, he needed you.
Jungwon whined as he grinds his hips against your crotches as he looked up at you so needy, desperately wanting your attention so you could help him. "M-m-mommy, p-please...." He trailed off with another whine as he started panting like a dog in heat.
He rolled his eyes back slightly as you moved your hips against his, feeling your dripping panties against his own hardening cock underneath his pants. "I just wanna cum! So badly, pleaseeee" He felt like he was gonna start sobbing as he wanted to cum but your teasing made that impossible.
"stop teasing me, mommy!" He grabbed your hips and pulled them by force as he started moving them against himself harder and faster as his moans started getting louder and louder with each hip movement. "Just a bit more...so close...mmhh..." He leaned his head back, feeling himself finally get close.
Suddenly you heard the front door downstairs open, signaling that his father was home and was quickly walking upstairs as he whimpered from frustration and he had to pull away from your delicious heat against his own needy one.
OK FINE HEAR ME OUTTTT
sub!maki x sub!reader
you get me right.
I do...Specifically, Puppy!Maki.
He's just so desperate; he wants more than anything to make you feel good, and his tail is wagging so fucking hard because of all the pent-up energy in his system. He eats you out until you cry, turns you over and fucks you until you're dumb, but it's still not enough. Nothing will ever be enough until he can make you cum.
Lucky for him, it doesn't take much. You're soft. You go pliant and hazy after two rounds. However, comma, this doesn't stop Maki from continuing like you didn't just clench around him so hard that he popped a blood vessel. He wants nothing more than to give you the pleasure he thinks you deserve -- which is a lot, because he loves you.
Oftentimes, he doesn't even let himself be touched. He'll grind against the bed until he gets off (which he does....a lot) or just straight up cums by getting too lost in the sauce.
"I-Is this okay?" he asks, burying himself between your thighs for the nth time. Your combined releases are smeared all over his face, and you're shaking like a damn leaf. Maki's not intent on stopping, though. Not if he can still try to prove to you that he can be everything you want or need. "Baby?"
You're dazed and spent -- but you let him have his way. His ears twitch, and his pupils dilate once they fixate on your dripping center. He does not let up for hours. No one stop him...he does not want to be saved.
(credit)
the sexiest things for a boy to be are desperate and pathetic
deepen the shadows bro. it'll be ok
i meant art-wise but if any dark sorcerers see this. you do you
ever since i was a little girl i knew i didnt have a competitive spirit
JUNO — LEE HEESEUNG | part one
synopsis : living next door to lee heeseung has always been a nightmare loud, cocky, and impossible to ignore until one reckless night at a party leaves you waking up in his bed and running before it can mean anything you try to forget it ever happened, until two lines change everything, and suddenly the one person you can’t stand is the one you can’t escape.
pairing : basketball captain heeseung x neighbourf!reader
trope : accidental pregnancy + forced proximity
word count : 19.6k
warnings : heeseung is a an absolute asshole, accidental pregnancy, alot panic and guilt, abortion / termination discussion, fear of the future, alcohol use, one night stand, dirty talking, cursing, foreplay, dry humping, oral, drunk sex ( consent is present ) , unprotected sex, mild degradation, hair pulling, creampie
🗯️ JO’s NOTES < 🐻❄️ 3 ! : omggg finallyy juno part one is out, hope you have an absolute amazing time when reading. navi did the proofreading for me ilysmm <3333
The bass from the apartment next door was so loud it made your pencil roll off the desk for the third time tonight thump thump thump. Each beat vibrated through the thin wall like it was personally trying to ruin your life.
You stared at the half finished notes in front of you, frustration bubbling hot in your chest. Midterms were in two weeks. Two weeks and Lee Heeseung, the campus golden boy, basketball captain, and your personal nightmare of a neighbor was throwing another one of his legendary parties like tomorrow didn’t exist.
This was the nth time. The nth damn time since you’d moved in six months ago. With a sharp exhale, you shoved your chair back and stormed out of your apartment, not even bothering to change out of your oversized hoodie and sweatpants. The hallway reeked of spilled beer and expensive cologne.
You could already hear the chaos before you even reached his door. Laughter, glasses clinking, some girl’s high pitched giggle cutting through the music.
You banged on the door harder than necessary. It took a few seconds before someone inside yelled over the noise, “Yoo Heeseung! Someone’s banging at your front door!”The door finally swung open.
Heeseung stood there in all his infuriating glory tall, broad shouldered, black hair slightly tousled like he’d been running his hands through it. His button up was half undone, revealing a silver chain that rested on his collarbones and a glimpse of toned chest. Behind him, the party pulsed with red solo cups, dim lights, and at least half the basketball team.
A pretty girl with long hair and a tight dress was pressed close to his side, her hand resting possessively on his arm. He’d clearly been in the middle of charming her into his bed by the end of the night.
The second his dark eyes landed on you, that signature cocky smirk curved his lips.“Hi, miss morals,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, like he’d been waiting for this exact interruption.
You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Can you turn it down? The music is too loud.”
Heeseung didn’t move. Instead, he leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms in a way that made his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt. The girl behind him shifted, clearly annoyed at the sudden attention shift, but Heeseung didn’t spare her a glance now.
“Miss morals strikes again,” he laughed, the sound rich and mocking. It sent an unwelcome spark of irritation down your spine. “What’s the problem this time, neighbor? Come to bless us with your righteous presence?”
“I’m serious, Heeseung,” you said, voice sharp as you folded your arms tightly across your chest. “Not everyone has the pleasure of partying all night. Others have to actually study to pass their exams whereas others can just have daddy pay for everything when they fuck up.”The words hung in the air between you.
Heeseung’s smirk faltered instantly. His jaw tightened, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. For a split second, something raw annoyance, maybe even hurt flashed across his face before he quickly shoved it back into that indifferent mask. His eyes darkened, the playful glint gone.
“Whatever,” he muttered, voice suddenly flat and cold. “I’ll lower the volume.”He said, “Thank you,” you replied curtly, refusing to let the small victory show on your face even though your heart was hammering.
Heeseung didn’t say anything else. He simply stepped back and shut the door right in your face with a firm click that echoed down the empty hallway.
You stood there for a moment, staring at the closed wooden door, fists clenched at your sides. The music inside dropped almost immediately, not completely off, but low enough that you could finally breathe. Muffled laughter and voices still filtered through, but at least your walls wouldn’t shake anymore.
“Asshole,” you whispered under your breath, turning on your heel and heading back to your apartment.As you closed your own door behind you, you leaned against it for a second, eyes closed. Why did he always have to make everything so difficult? Why did one look from him always manage to crawl under your skin like this?
You shook your head, forcing the thoughts away. Back to studying. Back to pretending Lee Heeseung didn’t exist. But deep down, you already knew tonight’s silence between you two had just gotten a little louder.
You were halfway through rewriting your notes when your phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up with a new message.
yunjin : you know sunghoon righttt? he’s throwing a massive party after midterms and he personally invited me. pleeease come with me?? i don’t wanna go alone 🥺
You stared at the text, already feeling the familiar dread settle in your stomach. Another party of course. You typed back quickly
you : No thanks im good have fun tho
The two dots appeared immediately.
yunjin : babe come onnnn
yunjin : it’s after midterms!! you deserve to relax
yunjin : sunghoon’s parties are actually fun i swear
yunjin : there’ll be good music, free drinks, and i heard the basketball team is coming too 👀
You groaned, rubbing your temples. The last thing you wanted was to be anywhere near the basketball team especially not after tonight’s lovely encounter with their captain.
you : exactly why I’m not going pass
yunjin : please please please i really like sunghoon and this could be my chance
yunjin : i’ll owe you big time i’ll even help you study for the next round of exams i’ll buy you that expensive matcha you like for a month!!
You leaned back in your chair, biting your lip. Yunjin was relentless when she wanted something. And honestly she had been there for you through every late night breakdown this semester. Saying no felt a little cruel the pleading texts kept coming
yunjin : i won’t leave your side the whole night ( she is lying )
yunjin : we can leave early if you hate it , pretty please with cherries on top?? 🥺🍒
You sighed deeply, already knowing you were about to lose this battle.
you : fine, ONE HOUR that’s it if it sucks, we’re out.
yunjin : YESSSSS!!! you’re the best i love you so much
yunjin : we can dress up together at my place okay , see you tomorrow <33
You tossed your phone onto the desk and dropped your head into your hands. Great, just what you needed. Another night surrounded by loud music, drunk athletes, and the very real possibility of running into the Lee Heeseung again.
You glanced at the wall that separated your apartment from his. The music was still playing faintly, but at least it was bearable now. Just one party, you could survive one party right?
The next morning, the art history lecture hall was already filling up with the usual mix of sleepy students and last minute crammers when you slipped into your regular seat in the middle row.
The faint scent of fresh coffee and old books lingered in the air. Yunjin dropped dramatically into the chair on your right, her long hair still slightly damp from her morning shower, eyes bright with far too much excitement for a 9 am class.
On your left, Soobin settled in quietly, tall frame folding gracefully into the seat. He placed his neatly organized notebook on the desk and pulled out a perfectly sharpened pencil, offering you a soft, reassuring smile.
Soobin was always like this calm, steady, the kind of friend who showed up without making a fuss. He was the complete opposite of the loud, chaotic energy that seemed to follow Heeseung everywhere.
Yunjin, however, was already completely distracted. She was leaning forward, chin resting on her hand, openly staring toward the front rows where Sunghoon sat chatting with a couple of friends. Her gaze was soft and dreamy, a tiny smile tugging at her lips every time he laughed at something.
You nudged her arm with your elbow, voice low and teasing. “You’re oogling him again it’s getting embarrassing at this point.”Yunjin didn’t even pretend to deny it. “I’m not oogling, im appreciating art,” she whispered back, still not tearing her eyes away. “Look at him he’s literally perfect.”
Soobin let out a quiet chuckle beside you, shaking his head as he flipped open his notebook. “Sure ‘appreciating’ that’s why half your notes from last week were just little hearts around his name.” He teased her, to which she replied,
“Traitor,” Yunjin hissed playfully, finally glancing at both of you as her cheeks flushed pink. “You two are supposed to be on my side.”The light banter continued until Soobin turned to you, lowering his voice a little. “Hey, I heard there was a party at Heeseung’s last night, did you survive the noise?”
You let out a long, dramatic groan and slumped back in your seat, the memory of last night’s confrontation still fresh and irritating. “Barely. That idiot had the music blasting so loud my textbooks were literally vibrating on the desk. I had to march over there in my hoodie and sweatpants like some angry neighbor from a sitcom again.”
Soobin listened attentively, his expression patient and sympathetic. He never interrupted your rants or told you to just ignore it. He just nodded along, dark eyes focused on you, making you feel genuinely heard.
It was one of the many reasons you treasured his friendship he was thoughtful, kind, and never loud or arrogant for the sake of it. The polar opposite of Heeseung.
“And of course he answered the door half dressed with some girl hanging off his arm like a trophy,” you continued, voice dripping with annoyance. “Called me ‘miss morals’ like it’s the funniest joke in the world.
Then when I pointed out that not everyone has a rich daddy to bail them out when they party instead of studying, he got all pissy, sucked in this dramatic breath, and slammed the door right in my face. He’s such an entitled asshole.”
Soobin hummed softly, a small frown creasing his brow. “That sounds exhausting, you should’ve texted me you know, i could’ve come over with snacks and we could’ve studied together instead of dealing with his nonsense alone.”
You smiled faintly at the offer, warmth cutting through the irritation. “Next time, maybe at least someone in this building has basic human decency.”
Yunjin finally tore her gaze away from Sunghoon long enough to grin at you. “Heeseung’s just bored and likes getting a rise out of you if you stopped reacting, he’d probably get bored and stop.”
“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You don’t have to live next door to the human equivalent of a walking migraine.”The professor walked in moments later, cutting off any further complaints.
The next hour passed in a blur of projected slides on Renaissance techniques, quiet note taking, and the occasional whispered comment from Yunjin whenever Sunghoon shifted in his seat.
When class finally ended, the three of you packed up your things and joined the stream of students flowing out into the crowded hallway. The air was filled with chatter about upcoming midterms, weekend plans, and the usual campus gossip.
As you walked side by side, Yunjin suddenly looped her arm through yours, her excitement bubbling over again. “So, about Sunghoon’s party after midterms you’re definitely coming, right? And Soobin you should come too! It’ll be so much more fun with all three of us there.”
Soobin blinked, surprised, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Wait you’re actually going?” He looked at you, genuinely shocked. “I thought you hated parties, especially ones thrown by the popular crowd.”
You shrugged, already regretting your decision a little. “Yunjin begged a lot and guilt tripped me with matcha promises. One hour max, if it sucks, I’m dragging her out.”
Yunjin squealed happily and squeezed your arm. “See? She’s coming! So you have to come too, Soobinn please?”Before Soobin could respond, a familiar voice cut through the hallway noise from behind you.
“Can’t imagine miss morals at a party but I’m looking forward to seeing you there.” Your stomach dropped, you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.
Heeseung was leaning casually against a set of lockers a few feet away, arms crossed over his varsity jacket, that signature cocky smirk playing on his lips. He must have overheard the entire conversation.
His dark eyes locked onto yours with clear amusement, like he lived for these moments of catching you off guard.
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a verbal response. Heat crept up your neck partly from annoyance, partly from the embarrassment of him hearing your plans.
Yunjin stifled a laugh beside you while Soobin just shook his head quietly, a small, amused smile tugging at his mouth.
Heeseung’s low chuckle followed you as the three of you kept walking, but you kept your gaze fixed straight ahead, jaw tight. God, you really, really hated that guy.Midterms week stretched into a brutal two week marathon, and as an art curator major, you felt every single hour of it in your bones.
Your apartment had become a war zone of curated chaos towering stacks of books on museum exhibition design, printed slides from Art Conservation and Curatorial Practices, mood boards pinned to the wall for your upcoming gallery proposal project, and color coded flashcards scattered across every surface.
Late nights blurred into early mornings as you hunched over your laptop, drafting proposals for hypothetical exhibits while trying to memorize the intricate history of 19th century European collections. Sleep was a distant dream. Caffeine was your only reliable companion.
And then there was Heeseung.
He didn’t blast music or bring girls over every single night that would have been almost predictable. No, he was crueler than that. He chose random days, like he knew exactly how to keep you off balance, turning your already exhausting study schedule into a minefield of unwanted interruptions.
The first time hit on the second night of midterms. You were deep into analyzing a case study on museum ethics when the wall behind your desk started to vibrate faintly. At first it was just low music.
Then came the giggles two distinct female voices, breathy and flirtatious. Heeseung’s deep laugh cut through it all, followed by the unmistakable sound of bodies moving against furniture.
“Fuck, Heeseung you’re so good at this,” one of the girls moaned loudly, the words carrying crystal clear through the thin shared wall. The headboard started thumping a slow, steady rhythm against your wall rhythmic, insistent, growing faster.
You could hear the wet slap of skin, her exaggerated gasps turning into full throated cries every time he thrust.You yanked your noise canceling headphones on so hard the band dug into your temples, cranking the volume until classical music drowned most of it out.
But you could still feel it, the steady bang bang bang vibrating through your desk, through your chair, through your skull. Your cheeks burned with secondhand embarrassment and pure rage.
'Of course he’s fucking some random girl while I’m trying to memorize the difference between Baroque and Rococo curation techniques.' You thought bitterly, stabbing your highlighter across the page. Must be nice to have zero responsibilities except basketball and dick appointments.
It stopped around 2 a.m., but the damage was done. You only managed three hours of sleep before your 8 a.m. lecture.
The next morning, you were running on pure spite and too much coffee when you caught Heeseung in the hallway just as he was stepping out of his apartment. He looked annoyingly fresh — hair still damp from a shower, varsity jacket slung over one shoulder, that perpetual cocky smirk already in place.
You stopped right in front of him, arms crossed tightly. “Keep it down next time,” you said flatly, voice low but sharp. “Some of us are actually trying to pass our midterms instead of auditioning for porn.”
Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Aw, miss morals heard everything? Didn’t know you were such a light sleeper.” You glared at him, heat rising to your cheeks. “Just tone it down, the headboard banging is ridiculous.”
He chuckled lowly, the sound sending another spike of irritation through you. “Noted.” Then he leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “Though from the sounds of it last night, she seemed to enjoy the banging.”
You rolled your eyes and walked away without another word, his soft laugh following you down the hall.The next disruption came four days later. A random Thursday when you had a massive group project due on modern curatorial strategies.
You’d just settled in with your laptop open to a half finished exhibition proposal when his door slammed open down the hall. One girl this time, but she was even louder.
The moment they got inside, the sounds started again her high pitched whimpers, Heeseung’s low, cocky murmurs “Yeah? You like that? Tell me how much you want it” followed by the unmistakable wet sounds of them going at it on what sounded like his couch first, then migrating to the bed.
The headboard slammed against the wall so hard your framed print of Van Gogh’s Starry Night rattled. Her moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure, each one punctuated by Heeseung’s grunts and the filthy slap of bodies. “Harder fuck, right there, Heeseung don’t stop—”
You ended up studying in your bed instead, laptop balanced on your knees, pillows stacked around you like a fortress. Headphones on full blast. Still, every thrust made the wall tremble.
Every moan crawled under your skin and made focusing on your notes feel impossible. By the time they finally finished (or at least quieted down) around midnight, your eyes were burning and your proposal was only half done.
You hated how your body reacted sometimes not with attraction, but with pure, simmering resentment that made your stomach twist.That same night, after the noises finally stopped, you grabbed your phone in a fit of exhausted anger and texted him.
you : keep the noise down, some people are trying to study for actual grades, not coast on basketball talent and daddy’s money
His reply came faster than you expected. A picture popped up first. A close up selfie of Heeseung lying in bed, shirtless, messy hair, lazy smirk on his face, with the caption
heeseung : sorry, miss morals hard to stay quiet when they scream my name like that
heeseung : next time i’ll try to fuck quieter or maybe you can just join and tell me how to do it right?
You stared at the message, face flaming with a mix of rage and disbelief. You immediately blocked the image from your mind ( and definitely did not linger on the way his abs looked in the dim lighting ) before typing back a single furious reply
you : delete my number, asshole
The worst random night came during the final stretch, just three days before your last exams.
You were pulling an all nighter on your capstone project a full digital mock up of a contemporary art exhibit you’d spent weeks perfecting when the noises started again around 11 p.m. This time it was two girls.
Their laughter spilled into the hallway first, then straight through your wall. Heeseung’s voice was low and teasing, the kind of filthy charm that probably worked on every girl on campus.
Soon the bed was creaking loudly, headboard banging in a frantic rhythm while both girls moaned in tandem one breathy and high, the other deeper and more desperate.
“Heeseung oh god, yes fuck me like that—” mixed with wet, obscene sounds that left zero doubt about exactly what was happening next door. The wall vibrated so intensely your coffee mug slid an inch across the desk.
You sat there in your oversized hoodie and sweatpants, staring at your glowing screen, jaw clenched so tight it ached. Every moan, every dirty encouragement from Heeseung, every rhythmic thud felt like a personal attack on the one thing you actually cared about your future.
Your grades, your dream of curating real exhibitions someday. While I’m over here trying not to fail out of the only thing I’m good at, you thought, fingers flying angrily across the keyboard, he’s over there living his best life with a rotating cast of girls screaming his name.
You wore the headphones until your ears rang. You even tried white noise apps, earplugs underneath nothing fully blocked it. The sex noises went on for nearly two hours that night, loud and shameless, until they finally quieted around 1:30 a.m.
By the end of the two weeks, you were running on fumes dark circles under your eyes, caffeine shakes in your hands, and a permanent knot of irritation lodged in your chest whenever you passed his door.
The random nights had been spaced out just enough to feel like psychological warfare instead of constant chaos.Heeseung never once toned it down. Never once seemed to care that someone on the other side of the wall was actually trying to build a future that didn’t involve daddy’s money or NBA scouts.
When Friday morning finally arrived and your last exam was over, you dragged yourself back to the apartment building, shoulders heavy with exhaustion. The hallway was quiet for once. Heeseung’s door looked innocently closed.
You unlocked your own door, stepped inside, and immediately collapsed face first onto your bed, still in your clothes midterms were done.But the resentment toward the boy next door had only grown sharper and Sunghoon’s party was tonight. You groaned into your pillow one hour in and out. Just don’t kill Heeseung on sight.
You took the quickest shower of your life, and changed into the first comfortable outfit you could find—a simple black crop top that showed just a sliver of your midriff and your favorite pair of dark jeans—comfortable, practical, safe.
You texted Yunjin that you were ready to head over to her place to “get ready together,” secretly hoping she wouldn’t make a big deal out of your clothes—big mistake. Yunjin’s apartment was only two blocks away, and the second you stepped inside, she took one look at you and gasped like you had personally offended her.
“No no absolutely not,” she declared, hands on her hips, eyes scanning you up and down with pure horror. “You cannot go to Sunghoon’s party looking like that.”
You glanced down at yourself, confused. “What’s wrong with this? It’s cute it’s comfortable.”“Cute? Comfortable?” Yunjin repeated, already dragging you toward her bedroom like a woman on a mission.
“Babe, we’re going to a party, not the library. You just survived two weeks of hell tonight you’re supposed to look hot, not like you’re about to give a museum tour.”
Before you could protest, she flung open her closet and started pulling out clothes with frightening speed. She held up a black mini skirt dangerously short, made of soft leather like material and a sheer black button up shirt that was practically see through.
“Try these,” she ordered, shoving the hanger into your hands. You stared at the outfit like it might bite you. “Yunjin, no way, that skirt is barely legal and the shirt is see through i’m not wearing that.”
“Yes way, you are,” she sang, already pushing you toward the bathroom. “You agreed to come to the party that means you’re under my styling jurisdiction for tonight go change now”
You argued the entire time you were changing. “This is ridiculous! im going to freeze, people are going to stare i look like I’m trying way too hard—”
But Yunjin was relentless. The second you stepped out in the mini skirt and sheer shirt ( with a black bralette underneath so you weren’t completely exposed ), she clapped her hands and squealed.
“Oh my god, yes! Look at you!” She spun you around in front of her full length mirror. The skirt hugged your hips and ended high on your thighs, making your legs look longer.
The sheer shirt draped softly over your shoulders, the black bralette visible underneath in a way that was teasing but not outright scandalous. “You look insane like, dangerously hot.”
You tugged at the hem of the skirt, cheeks burning. “I feel naked. Can't I at least wear the jeans over this or something?”“No,” she said firmly, already sitting you down in front of her vanity. “We’re doing makeup now sit still.”
For the next twenty minutes, Yunjin worked her magic. Winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass, soft smoky eyes, a touch of highlighter on your cheekbones, and a bold red lip that made your mouth look fuller. She even styled your hair into loose, effortless waves that framed your face perfectly.
When she finally stepped back, she let out a satisfied sigh.“Anyone would worship the ground you walk on looking like this,” she said, grinning proudly. “Trust me tonight, you’re not the stressed out art curator girl who yells at her neighbor. You’re the girl who turns heads even Heeseung won’t know what to do with himself when he sees you.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small flutter of nerves mixed with reluctant confidence settled in your stomach as you looked at your reflection. The outfit was way bolder than anything you’d normally wear, but you had to admit it looked good.
“Fine,” you muttered, smoothing down the skirt one last time. “But if I hate it, we’re leaving early and if Heeseung says one word about ‘miss morals’ in this outfit, I’m pouring a drink on him.”Yunjin laughed and linked her arm with yours. “Deal now let’s go make Sunghoon’s party unforgettable.”
You and Yunjin barely made it out of her apartment before your phone buzzed with a text from Soobin saying he was already waiting downstairs. The three of you had agreed he would drive so none of you had to worry about getting home later.
The elevator ride down felt too short. Your heart was already beating a little faster than usual partly from the unfamiliar outfit, partly from the knowledge that you were actually going to a party after surviving two brutal weeks of midterms.
The black mini skirt kept riding up slightly with every step, and you kept tugging nervously at the hem while Yunjin wouldn’t stop complimenting how good you looked.
When you stepped out of the building into the cool evening air, Soobin’s car was parked right in front, engine idling. He was leaning casually against the driver’s side, scrolling through his phone, but the moment he looked up and saw the two of you approaching, his eyes widened noticeably.
Especially when they landed on you. Soobin froze for a second, his usual calm expression cracking into pure, genuine shock. His gaze traveled slowly from your loose waves and sharp winged eyeliner, down to the sheer black shirt that subtly revealed the black bralette underneath, then to the dangerously short leather like mini skirt that made your legs look endless.
He blinked once, twice, before quickly clearing his throat and straightening up, ears turning a light shade of pink.“Wow” he said, voice a little higher than his normal soft tone. “You both look really nice like, really nice.”
Yunjin grinned triumphantly, looping her arm through yours and squeezing. “See? Told you! Even Soobin is shook, she looks hot, right?”
You felt heat creep up your neck and quickly crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly hyper aware of how different you looked from your usual oversized hoodie and jeans self.
“It’s all Yunjin’s doing. She basically held me hostage in her room until I changed. I tried to wear my normal clothes and she acted like I committed a crime.”
Soobin gave a small, shy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he opened the back door for both of you like the gentleman he was. “No, it really suits you, you look great tonight.” His compliment was sincere and gentle, making the awkwardness feel a little softer. “Ready to go? Sunghoon’s place isn’t too far from here.”
The car ride was filled with easy, light chatter that helped calm your nerves. Yunjin sat in the front passenger seat, already buzzing with excitement about seeing Sunghoon, while you sat in the back, occasionally tugging at your skirt and staring out the window at the passing streetlights.
Soobin kept the conversation flowing comfortably, light complaints about how brutal midterms had been, predictions about how wild the party might get, and Yunjin’s endless teasing about how
Sunghoon had “personally invited” her. Every now and then Soobin would glance at you through the rearview mirror, still looking a little flustered whenever your eyes met.
Before you knew it, Soobin was pulling up to a large off campus house that was already pulsing with loud music and flashing colored lights. Cars lined both sides of the street, and groups of people were laughing and chatting on the front lawn, red cups in hand.
The three of you climbed out of the car, and the heavy bass from inside immediately hit you like a wave. The night air smelled like a mix of cheap beer, sweet perfume, and fresh cut grass. Yunjin practically bounced on her heels with excitement as the three of you walked up the pathway toward the front door.
Sunghoon was standing right at the entrance, playing the perfect host in a simple black shirt and jeans. His sharp, handsome features broke into a warm, genuine smile the moment he spotted your group approaching.
“Hey! You guys actually made it,” he greeted cheerfully, voice carrying easily over the noise from inside. His eyes lingered on Yunjin for an extra beat, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Yunjin, glad you came and you brought friends, nice.”
He gave Soobin a friendly nod and then turned his attention to you, eyebrows raising slightly in pleasant surprise as he took in your bold outfit. “Hey! you clean up really well. Welcome to the party, hope you guys have fun tonight.”
You managed a small, polite smile, still feeling slightly out of your element. “Thanks for inviting us.”Sunghoon handed each of you a red solo cup filled with something fruity and strong smelling a sweet cocktail that had a sharp kick of alcohol when you took your first cautious sip.
“Drinks are flowing inside help yourselves to whatever you want. There’s food in the kitchen, beer pong in the living room, and dancing. Pretty much everywhere enjoy!”
Yunjin thanked him brightly, her cheeks already a little flushed with excitement, and steered you and Soobin further into the crowded house. The interior was packed wall to wall with people.
Students were laughing loudly, dancing in the middle of the living room, playing intense games of beer pong, and making out in dimly lit corners. The music was loud but not yet overwhelming, colorful lights flashing across the walls and bodies.
For the first few minutes, the three of you stuck close together, weaving through the crowd while sipping your drinks. Soobin stayed protectively near your side, occasionally leaning down to say something quiet and reassuring whenever he noticed you looking a bit overwhelmed by the chaos.
Then you felt it. That familiar, annoying prickle on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. You turned your head slightly, and there he was.
Heeseung was leaning casually against the wall near the staircase, a red cup dangling from his fingers. He was surrounded by a small group of his closest friends—Beomgyu laughing at something on his phone, Jake with his usual bright smile, and Jay nursing his own drink while scanning the room.
Heeseung looked effortlessly good tonight in a black button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms, and dark jeans that sat low on his hips. His hair was styled in that signature messy but perfect way.
The moment his dark eyes found you across the crowded room, his conversation with the guys stopped mid sentence.
His gaze dragged slowly and shamelessly down your body, taking in the short black mini skirt that hugged your hips and thighs, the sheer shirt that teased the black bralette underneath, the way the outfit accentuated your curves before snapping back up to your face.
For once, his usual cocky smirk didn’t appear instantly. Instead, there was a flash of genuine surprise, followed by something darker, more heated, and appreciative.
He pushed off the wall and started walking straight toward your group, completely ignoring whatever Beomgyu was saying behind him.
“Well, well, well,” Heeseung drawled when he was close enough, his voice cutting smoothly through the music. His eyes were still shamelessly roaming over you. “Look who decided to show up. Miss morals in a mini skirt i almost didn’t recognize you damn.”
You felt your stomach twist with that familiar mix of irritation and unwanted warmth. Before you could even open your mouth to snap back, Yunjin jumped in defensively, stepping slightly in front of you with a bright but sharp smile.
“Excuse me, Heeseung? She looks amazing, and she doesn’t need your backhanded compliments,” Yunjin said, tilting her head with fake sweetness.
“Unlike some people who only know how to throw loud parties and bring random girls over during midterms, maybe focus on your own game instead of commenting on her outfit.”
Heeseung chuckled lowly, clearly amused by Yunjin’s quick defense, but his eyes never left you. Jake, Beomgyu, and Jay were now watching the exchange from a few feet away, Beomgyu smirking like he was enjoying the show and Jake looking mildly entertained.
“Relax, Yunjin,” Heeseung replied smoothly, taking a sip from his cup. “I’m just saying that she cleaned up dangerous tonight, didn’t think our neighbor owned anything shorter than ankle length. Beomgyu, Jake, Jay back me up here. She looks good, right?”
Beomgyu grinned and raised his cup in a lazy toast. “Yeah, she do be looking fire tonight.”Jake nodded with a bright laugh. “For real, new look suits you.”Jay just shook his head with a small smile, staying quiet but clearly entertained.
You rolled your eyes, lifting your red solo cup to your lips to hide the flush creeping up your cheeks. “Don’t start with me tonight, Heeseung i’m only here for one hour, and I’d rather not spend it dealing with your nonsense.”
Heeseung tilted his head, that signature cocky smirk fully back in place now as he took another slow step closer. The way he was looking at you made the noisy room feel suddenly ten degrees warmer.
“Gonna dance tonight, or are you just here to supervise everyone else’s fun like usual, miss morals?”
You didn’t even give Heeseung the satisfaction of a proper reply. Instead, you flipped him off with a sharp middle finger, turned on your heel, and grabbed Yunjin’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
Yunjin laughed loudly, clearly proud of your reaction, and let you drag her deeper into the crowded house while Heeseung’s low chuckle followed behind you. Beomgyu, Jake, and Jay were already teasing him in the background, but you refused to look back.
For the first half hour, the party actually felt manageable. You stuck close to Yunjin and Soobin, sipping from your red solo cup and people watching from a quieter corner of the living room.
The music was loud, the lights flashed in rhythm with the bass, and the alcohol slowly started to loosen the tight knot of stress that midterms had left in your chest. Then Sunghoon appeared again.
He approached your group with that easy, charming smile, eyes mostly locked on Yunjin. “Hey want to dance?”Yunjin’s face lit up like he’d just offered her the moon. She turned to you quickly, squeezing your hand. “You’ll be okay for a bit, right? I’ll be right back!”
Before you could even answer, she was gone, disappearing into the sea of bodies on the dance floor with Sunghoon’s hand on her waist, now it was just you and Soobin.
You tried to keep the conversation light, but the longer you stood there, the more the party energy started to pull at you. The drink in your cup was strong and sweet, and after two weeks of pure academic hell, the idea of letting loose felt dangerously tempting.
“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath. You downed the rest of your drink in one go, the burn sliding warmly down your throat. Then you grabbed another cup from a passing tray and started sipping again. Why not? Midterms were over. You deserved this.
Soobin noticed and raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t judge. He stayed beside you, chatting quietly, making sure you weren’t completely alone. But after a while, you started feeling guilty. He was sweet, always listening, always there and here he was babysitting you instead of enjoying the party.
“Go talk to your friends,” you told him, giving him a gentle push toward a group of guys waving at him from across the room. “Seriously, Soobin i’ll be fine, i don’t want you wasting your night stuck with me. Go have fun i’ll text you if I need anything.”
He hesitated, looking concerned, but you begged him with your best pleading eyes until he finally nodded. “Okay but stay safe, text me if anything feels off.”
Once Soobin walked away to join his friends, you let yourself drift toward the dance floor. The alcohol was hitting nicely now a warm, fuzzy buzz that made the music feel better and your body lighter.
You moved to the edge of the crowd first, swaying gently, then slowly worked your way deeper into the pulsing bodies.
You didn’t notice him at first. But Heeseung had been watching you the entire time. From the moment Yunjin disappeared with Sunghoon, his eyes had followed you. He watched you down your drinks. He watched you convince Soobin to leave.
And now he watched as you finally stepped fully onto the dance floor, hips moving to the heavy beat, the short black mini skirt riding up just enough to draw attention, the sheer shirt catching the flashing lights.
Heeseung set his cup down and started moving through the crowd toward you, slow and deliberate. When he was close enough, he didn’t just grab you like most guys would. Instead, he leaned in slightly, voice low and surprisingly respectful against the loud music.
“Hey can I dance with you?”
You turned your head, alcohol making you bold. Your eyes met his, and for once, you didn’t immediately snap at him. The buzz in your veins, the way he was looking at you like he couldn’t look away…it made something reckless spark inside you.
You nodded “Yeah okay.” Only then did Heeseung step closer. The moment he did, the space between you disappeared. His body pressed lightly against yours at first, hands hovering respectfully before you started moving together.
The music was sensual, slow and heavy, and your bodies naturally fell into rhythm. It didn’t stay innocent for long. Heeseung’s hands gradually grew bolder one sliding to your waist, the other brushing up your side, fingers grazing the sheer fabric of your shirt.
You moved closer, hips rolling against his, the short skirt brushing against his thighs. His touch grew hotter, palms sliding down to grip your hips, then slowly roaming over the curve of your ass, pulling you flush against him.
The air between you thickened. Your breathing grew heavier. Every brush of his body sent sparks through your skin. Heeseung leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, voice low. “fuck, not being able to kiss you right now is actual torture.”
The words hit you like a shot of pure heat. The alcohol, the weeks of built up tension, the way his hands felt all over your body everything crashed together in one reckless moment.
You didn’t think, you just acted. turning your head as you grabbed the front of his shirt, and crashed your lips against his.
The kiss was messy, desperate, and instantly wild. Heeseung groaned into your mouth the second your lips met, one hand flying up to cup the back of your neck while the other tightened possessively on your waist, pulling you even harder against him.
You kissed like you were angry at each other—teeth clashing, tongues sliding hot and deep, lips moving with raw hunger.
Heeseung kissed like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. His mouth was demanding, devouring, tilting your head to kiss you deeper. You moaned softly against him, fingers threading into his hair and tugging, which only made him kiss you harder.
The dance floor disappeared around you. The music faded into background noise. There was only the heat of his body, the taste of alcohol on his tongue, and the way his hands roamed greedily over your curves sliding up your back under the sheer shirt, gripping your hips, pressing you so close you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.
The makeout was crazy sloppy, passionate, breathless. You bit his lower lip, and he responded with a low growl, sucking on your tongue before kissing you even harder.
Your bodies moved together to the beat, grinding slowly while your mouths stayed locked in a heated battle.
When you finally pulled back for air, both of you were panting, lips swollen and shiny. Heeseung’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he stared down at you like he wanted to devour you right there on the dance floor.
“Shit” he breathed, forehead resting against yours. “You’re going to kill me tonight.”The kiss finally broke, both of you breathing hard, lips swollen and glistening under the flashing party lights.
Heeseung’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
His eyes were dark, pupils blown with want, and the way he looked at you sent another rush of heat straight through your body.
You didn’t think. The alcohol, the weeks of hating him, the way his hands had felt all over you everything made you reckless. You leaned in closer, voice low and breathless against his ear. “Wanna go back to your apartment?”
Heeseung pulled back just enough to look at you, a dangerous smirk tugging at his swollen lips. For a split second, surprise flashed across his face, but it quickly melted into pure hunger.
“Fuck yes”
He didn’t waste another second. His hand slid down to grab yours firmly, fingers lacing tight as he started pulling you through the crowded dance floor. People moved out of the way as Heeseung cut a path toward the front door, his grip on you possessive and urgent.
You barely had time to register anything else Yunjin and Soobin were somewhere in the house, but right now, none of that mattered.The cool night air hit your flushed skin the moment you stepped outside, but it did nothing to calm the fire burning in your veins.
Heeseung’s car was parked a little down the street. He didn’t let go of your hand the entire way, and the second you reached the passenger side, he opened the door for you with surprising speed before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.
The moment the doors closed, the tension exploded again. Heeseung started the engine, but you were already growing impatient. The short drive back to your apartment building felt too long. Every red light, every stop sign made the ache between your legs worse.
You kept stealing glances at him his jaw tight, hands gripping the steering wheel, the way his shirt was slightly undone from your earlier tugging. At the third red light, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.“Fuck this,” you muttered.
Before Heeseung could react, you unbuckled your seatbelt, climbed over the center console, and straddled his lap in one swift motion. The mini skirt rode up high on your thighs as you settled on top of him, your hands immediately cupping his face as you crashed your lips back onto his.
Heeseung groaned loudly into the kiss, his hands flying to your waist to steady you. The kiss was even wilder than on the dance floor desperate, messy, all tongue and teeth. You rocked your hips against him, grinding down slowly at first, then harder, feeling him harden beneath you through his jeans.
His hands roamed greedily, one sliding up under your sheer shirt to palm your breast over the bralette, the other gripping your ass and pulling you tighter against his growing bulge.
“Shit you’re driving me crazy,” he muttered against your mouth between kisses, voice rough and wrecked.
You moaned softly, grinding down harder, the friction sending sparks through your entire body. The car windows started to fog up as you moved together, lips never leaving each other for long.
Heeseung’s tongue slid against yours, deep and filthy, while his hips bucked up to meet your movements, the steering wheel pressing into your back.
You were completely lost in him hands in his hair, tugging, lips sucking on his bottom lip, hips rolling in desperate circles when the sharp sound of honking suddenly pierced through the haze.
Once, twice, then a chorus of angry car horns blaring behind you reality crashed back in.
You pulled away from the kiss with a gasp, lips shiny and swollen, breathing ragged. The light had turned green, and the cars lined up behind you were laying on their horns, some drivers shouting out their windows.
Heeseung let out a breathless laugh, his hands still gripping your thighs tightly. His eyes were dark, hair messy from your fingers, lips red and kiss bitten.“Fuck,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “We’re gonna cause an accident if you keep this up.”
You quickly scrambled back into the passenger seat, heart pounding, cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal.
Your skirt was hiked up dangerously high, and you tugged it down with shaky hands while Heeseung adjusted himself in his seat, clearly struggling to focus on the road.
He shot you a heated sideways glance, smirk returning as he pressed the gas pedal.“Almost home,” he said, voice low and promising. “Try not to jump me again until we’re inside or don’t. I'm not complaining.”
The rest of the short drive was torturous. The air in the car was thick with tension, both of you stealing glances, the memory of your grinding still fresh and electric.
When Heeseung finally pulled into the parking spot outside your shared apartment building, he killed the engine and turned to you, eyes blazing.
The second you were both out of the car, he grabbed your hand again and practically dragged you toward the entrance, the promise of what was about to happen hanging heavy between you.
The second the door to Heeseung’s apartment slammed shut behind you, all restraint vanished.He had you pinned against the wood before you could even catch your breath, mouth crashing back onto yours in a filthy, open mouthed kiss.
His hands were everywhere one sliding up under your sheer shirt to palm your breast roughly, the other gripping your ass and yanking your hips flush against the hard line of his cock already straining in his jeans.
“Been thinking about this since you walked in wearing that tiny fucking skirt,” he growled against your lips, biting your bottom lip hard enough to make you moan. “Look at you acting like such a good girl all semester and now you’re begging to get fucked in my bed.”
You didn’t deny it you couldn’t. The alcohol and weeks of pent up hatred had turned into pure, desperate need. You tugged at his shirt buttons, popping a few open in your haste, and Heeseung chuckled darkly before ripping the rest off himself.
The shirt hit the floor. Yours followed a second later, then your bralette, leaving your tits exposed to the cool air of his apartment.
Heeseung’s mouth was on your neck instantly, sucking a mark right below your jaw while his hands squeezed your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples until they were hard and aching. “So fucking pretty when you’re needy like this,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “Bet you’re already soaked for me, huh?”
You whimpered when he shoved the mini skirt up around your waist and cupped you over your panties. His fingers pressed against the soaked fabric, rubbing slow circles over your clit.
“Shit you are dripping already.” He smirked against your throat. “Such a dirty little secret you’ve been hiding, miss morals.”
You didn’t have time to snap back. Heeseung dropped to his knees right there in the entryway, hooked your panties to the side, and buried his face between your thighs without warning. His tongue dragged a long, nasty stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste of you.
“Oh my god—” Your head thunked back against the door as he licked and sucked like a man starved, two fingers sliding inside you easily because you were so wet.
He curled them perfectly, pumping fast while his tongue flicked mercilessly over your clit. The sounds were obscene wet, sloppy, loud and he didn’t care. He ate you like he wanted to ruin you.
You came hard on his tongue within minutes, thighs shaking, fingers yanking at his hair as you cried out his name. Heeseung didn’t stop until you were trembling and pushing at his head, then he stood up, lips shiny with your arousal, and kissed you deep so you could taste yourself.
“Bedroom now,” he ordered.
He didn’t wait for you to walk. He grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you like you weighed nothing, carrying you down the short hallway while your legs wrapped around his waist.
Your skirt was still bunched around your hips, panties shoved to the side. You could feel his cock pressing against your soaked core with every step.
The second he kicked his bedroom door open, he dropped you onto the bed. You barely had time to bounce before he was stripping the rest of his clothes off. His jeans and boxers hit the floor and his cock sprang free—thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip.
Your mouth watered at the sight. Heeseung climbed over you, caging you in with his arms. “You want this?” he asked, voice dark, one hand stroking his cock slowly as he looked down at you. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” you breathed, reaching down to wrap your hand around him. “Fuck me, Heeseung.”That was all it took.
He shoved your legs apart wider, lined himself up, and pushed in with one long, brutal thrust. You gasped at the stretch, nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out inside you, so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach.
“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, forehead dropping to yours. “Taking me so well already.”Then he started moving hard fast and filthy.
The headboard slammed against the wall with every thrust, the same wall that separated your apartments. The irony wasn’t lost on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Heeseung fucked you like he’d been imagining this exact moment for months.Deep, punishing strokes that made your tits bounce and your breath hitch.
He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, folding you in half so he could fuck you even deeper. The new angle made you cry out, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room.
“Look at you,” he rasped, eyes locked on where his cock was disappearing inside you. “Taking every inch like a good little slut, who would’ve thought the girl next door gets this fucking nasty?”
The degradation was light, just enough to make your pussy clench harder around him. You moaned louder, hips trying to meet his thrusts.
Heeseung’s hand slid between your bodies, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit while he pounded into you.
“Come on, baby. Come on my cock again, wanna feel you squeezing me.” You shattered for the second time, back arching, walls fluttering around his thick length as your orgasm crashed through you. Heeseung fucked you through it, hips never slowing, chasing his own release.
“Fuck— I’m close,” he growled, voice strained. “Where do you want it?” He asked, “Inside,” you gasped, still riding the high. “Come inside me.”
Heeseung cursed loudly, thrusting a few more brutal times before he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. You felt every pulse, every hot spurt filling you up as he groaned your name against your neck, hips jerking through the aftershocks.
For a moment the only sounds were both of you breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat.
Heeseung stayed inside you for a long minute, forehead pressed to yours, before he finally pulled out slowly. A trickle of his cum leaked out of you onto the sheets, and he watched it with dark, satisfied eyes then collapsed beside you.
Instead of pulling away, Heeseung immediately reached for you. He wrapped one strong arm around your waist and tugged you against his chest, your back flush to his front in a tight, warm hug. His other hand gently pulled the duvet up over both of you, cocooning your naked bodies in soft warmth.
You were still sticky with sweat and cum, thighs trembling, but the way he held you possessive yet surprisingly gentle made something soft flutter in your chest despite everything.
Heeseung pressed a lazy kiss to the back of your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.“Stay,” he murmured, voice already thick with sleep as he tightened his arm around you. “Just stay.”
Exhausted, fucked out, and strangely comforted by his warmth, you let your eyes drift shut. His steady heartbeat against your back and the heavy duvet wrapped around you lulled you quickly into sleep, safe in Heeseung’s arms for the night.
ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ. next morning !
The first thing you registered was the pounding in your head. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, the dim light filtering through unfamiliar curtains making everything feel hazy. The digital clock on the nightstand glowed red 4:28 a.m.
Your mouth was dry, throat scratchy, and a dull throb pulsed behind your temples the unmistakable aftermath of too many drinks and not nearly enough sleep. You shifted slightly under the heavy duvet, and that’s when you felt it.
A warm, solid body pressed against your back. An arm draped heavily over your waist, holding you close skin against skin. The faint scent of cologne, sweat, and something distinctly masculine filled your senses.
Your heart slammed against your ribs. Memories from last night crashed over you like ice water.
The party, the red solo cup dancing. Heeseung’s hands all over your body on the dance floor. The reckless invitation. The car ride where you’d climbed into his lap like you had no shame.
The way he’d pinned you against his door, dropped to his knees in the entryway, fucked you hard on his bed until you were crying out his name. The filthy sounds. The way he’d filled you up. The way he’d pulled you against his chest afterward, hugging you tight under the duvet as you both drifted off.
You had fucked Lee Heeseung
You had fucked your loud, cocky, insufferable neighbor the basketball captain you’d spent months complaining about, the one who called you “Miss Morals” like it was the funniest joke in the world.
Mortification burned hot through your entire body. Your stomach twisted violently. What the hell had you been thinking? The alcohol had stripped away every ounce of common sense, and now you were lying naked in his bed, his cum still faintly sticky between your thighs, his arm wrapped around you like you belonged there.
Heeseung was still sound asleep behind you, breathing deep and even, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back. His face was relaxed in sleep no smirk, no cocky grin but you knew the second he woke up, everything would change.
He would never let you live this down. The teasing would be relentless. “Miss morals” would turn into something far worse. He’d smirk every time he saw you in the hallway, make dirty little comments about how loud you’d been, how desperate you’d sounded begging for him.
The walls between your apartments were thin he’d probably bring it up every time you complained about his noise again. Your life next door would become a living hell.You couldn’t stay here.
Panic clawed up your throat. You had to leave before he woke up. Before this became real. Before he opened his eyes and looked at you with that knowing, satisfied smirk.
Carefully, so carefully, you lifted his arm from your waist. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake, murmuring something incoherent under his breath. Your heart hammered as you slowly slid out from under the duvet, the cool air hitting your naked skin and raising goosebumps.
You moved like a ghost around his room, gathering your scattered clothes as quietly as possible. Your sheer black shirt, the black bralette, the dangerously short mini skirt, your panties all crumpled on the floor where they’d been tossed in the heat of the moment.
You dressed as fast as you could, fingers trembling as you buttoned the sheer shirt and tugged the mini skirt down your thighs. Your hair was a mess, makeup probably smudged, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get out.
Barefoot, shoes in hand, you tiptoed toward the bedroom door. Every creak of the floorboards felt deafening. You glanced back once at Heeseung still asleep, one arm now stretched across the empty space where you’d been, dark hair messy against the pillow.
A strange, unwelcome pang twisted in your chest, but you shoved it down hard. This never happened.
You slipped out of his bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you. The living room was dark and silent. You navigated through the unfamiliar space, heart racing, until you reached the front door. The lock clicked softly as you turned it.
The hallway was empty and dimly lit when you stepped outside. The cool air felt like freedom. You didn’t even bother putting your shoes on yet you just hurried the few steps to your own apartment door next door, fumbling with your keys until they finally slid into the lock.
The moment you were inside, you locked the door behind you, leaned against it, and slid down to the floor, breathing hard.
Your body still ached in the best and worst ways. Thighs sore, a faint bruise forming on your hip from his grip, the ghost of his touch lingering everywhere. You could still feel him inside you, still taste the heat of his mouth.
You buried your face in your hands, mortified beyond words. What had you done?You had slept with the one person you couldn’t stand and now you had to live right next door to him, pretending it never happened.
Because if Heeseung ever found out you’d run away like this, the teasing would only get worse much, much worse. You spent the rest of that early morning in a haze of denial.
Your phone vibrated then again. You reached for it with a heavy sigh, squinting at the bright screen.
yunjin ( 3 new messages )
yunjin : babe where did u go?? one second u were dancing and then u disappeared 😭
yunjin : sunghoon said he saw u leave with someone?? pls tell me ur okay
yunjin : im worried call me when u wake up!!
soobin ( 4 new messages )
soobin : hey, you okay? you left pretty suddenly last night without telling both of us yunjin’s freaking out a bit
soobin : let me know if you got home safe
soobin : if you need anything or want to talk, i’m here no pressure
soobin : hope you’re resting well ❤️
You stared at the messages, throat tightening. The kindness in Soobin’s texts and Yunjin’s worried energy made fresh tears prick at your eyes. They had no idea what you had done. No idea you had spent the night in Heeseung’s bed, letting him touch you, kiss you, fuck you like you’d lost all common sense.
You typed back with trembling fingers, keeping it short and vague
you : got home safe, just drank too much and needed to leave early sorry for worrying you guys i’m okay, just tired talk later ❤️
You sent it and immediately turned your phone on silent, burying your face in your hands the memories wouldn’t stop replaying. Heeseung’s hands on your hips, his mouth on your neck. The way he had groaned your name when he came inside you.
How safe and warm his arms had felt when he pulled you under the duvet afterward. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push it all away this never happened.
After sliding down your front door and sitting on the cold floor for what felt like hours, you finally dragged yourself to the shower.
You scrubbed your skin until it was raw, trying to wash away every trace of Heeseung his scent, his touch, the sticky evidence of what you’d done between your thighs. The hot water did nothing to erase the soreness or the vivid flashbacks that kept playing on loop in your head.
By the time the sun came up, you had made a decision this never happened. You would bury it so deep that even you would start to believe it. No one needed to know. Not Yunjin, not Soobin, not even yourself on most days.
You would go back to normal go to classes, focus on your art curator projects, complain about the noise next door like always. And most importantly, you would avoid Lee Heeseung at all costs.
ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ. flashback !
Heeseung stepped out of his apartment with a half empty water bottle in hand, planning to grab the last box from his car before the evening practice. The hallway was quiet until it wasn’t.
A girl came rushing around the corner, arms overloaded with a massive cardboard box that completely blocked her line of sight. She collided straight into his chest with a startled gasp.
The box flew out of her hands and crashed to the floor, spilling books, notebooks, and what looked like art supplies everywhere across the hallway carpet. Heeseung instinctively reached out and grabbed her arms to keep her from stumbling backward.
She looked up at him, flushed and clearly annoyed, strands of hair falling across her face from the chaotic move. She was pretty, sharp eyes, determined expression the kind of girl who didn’t seem impressed by campus status.
A smirk tugged at his lips before he could stop it.“Easy there, neighbor,” he drawled, voice laced with amusement. “You always run into people like you’re trying to tackle them, or am I just lucky?”
She blinked, then quickly crouched down to gather her scattered belongings, avoiding his gaze.“Sorry,” she muttered, tone tight and clipped. “Didn’t see you.”
Heeseung crouched down as well, picking up a thick book on museum curation that had slid toward his foot. He turned it over in his hands, raising an eyebrow.“Art stuff, huh?” he asked casually. “You moving in next door?”
“Yeah just today,” she replied shortly, snatching the book back from him with a little more force than necessary.
He stood up first and leaned against the wall, arms crossing over his chest as he watched her struggle to reorganize everything into the box. Most girls would have smiled, maybe even recognized him as the basketball captain.
This one? She looked like she already wanted nothing to do with him.“I’m Heeseung,” he said, flashing his most charming grin. “Lee Heeseung, your new neighbor. Need help carrying that? Looks heavy.” He offered,
“I’m good thanks,” she answered without even looking up, standing quickly and slinging the tote over her shoulder.
Heeseung didn’t move out of the way. Instead, he tilted his head, studying her with open curiosity. There was something refreshing about her indifference that it made him want to push a little harder.
“Just so you know,” he added, voice dropping into a teasing tone, “The walls here are pretty thin, try not to be too loud when you’re studying or doing whatever it is, serious art curator girls do at night.”Her eyes finally snapped up to his, narrowing with clear irritation.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said flatly. “And maybe you can try keeping your parties down some people actually have to study to pass their classes.”
Heeseung let out a low, genuine laugh that echoed down the empty hallway. She had bite and he liked that.
“Welcome to the building, miss morals,” he called after her as she turned toward her door, the nickname slipping out naturally. She didn’t respond. She fumbled with her keys, unlocked her apartment, and slipped inside without another word, the door shutting with a firm click.
Heeseung stood there for a moment longer, still grinning to himself. The girl next door already hated him, and he hadn’t even thrown his first party yet. This was going to be interesting.
The gym echoed with the sharp squeak of sneakers and the rhythmic bounce of basketballs. Afternoon practice was in full swing, but during a water break, Heeseung leaned against the bleachers, towel draped over his shoulders, a cocky grin already plastered on his face.
Jay tossed him a bottle of water. “You look way too happy for someone who just ran suicides.”Heeseung laughed, taking a long sip before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can’t help it ran into the new neighbor again this morning.”
Beomgyu perked up immediately, spinning the ball on his finger. “The girl next door? The one who already hates your guts?”
“miss morals herself,” Heeseung confirmed, his smirk widening. “I was just leaving for practice when she came out, i told her the walls are thin and she should try not to be too loud at night. You should’ve seen her face, she looked like she wanted to throw her coffee at me.”
Jake, who was stretching nearby, let out a loud laugh. “Dude, you’re obsessed! that’s like the third time this week you’ve mentioned her.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Heeseung shot back, but his grin betrayed him. “It’s just too easy. She gets so worked up over the smallest things. Last week I had a couple of people over, nothing crazy and she banged on my door at midnight like the apartment was on fire, called me an entitled asshole who only passes because ‘daddy pays for everything.’”
The group burst into laughter. Sunghoon shook his head, amused. “She’s got balls, most girls on campus would be throwing themselves at you the second they find out you’re the captain.”
“Exactly,” Heeseung said, tossing the towel aside. “That’s what makes it fun, she doesn’t give a single fuck who I am. No flirty smiles, no asking for tickets to games, nothing. She just glares at me like I personally ruined her life by existing next door it’s hilarious.”
Beomgyu grinned mischievously. “So what’s your plan? Keep annoying her until she moves out?”
“Nah,” Heeseung replied, bouncing the ball once. “I’m just getting started, next time the music’s on, I might turn it up a little louder to see how long it takes before she comes marching over again. Bet she’ll have that cute little angry face on.”
Jake, who had been quietly listening while stretching his hamstrings, suddenly straightened up with a knowing look.“Don’t you think you’re in love with her or something?” he asked casually, but loud enough for the whole group to hear.
The gym went quiet for half a second before the guys exploded with laughter and teasing whistles. Heeseung nearly choked on his water. “What the fuck, Jake?”
Jake shrugged, completely unfazed. “Think about it, she’s literally the only girl who doesn’t give a shit about you no ego stroking, no chasing after the basketball star. She treats you like any other annoying neighbor and instead of leaving her alone, you keep poking at her like a kid with a new toy. That sounds like a crush to me.”
“Bullshit,” Heeseung scoffed, but his ears turned slightly red. He dribbled the ball harder than necessary, trying to play it cool. “I’m not in love with her, she’s just entertaining. It's fun watching her get all riled up, that’s it.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sure ‘Entertaining.’ that’s why you bring her up every single practice.”
“Exactly,” Jake added with a grin. “If she suddenly started being nice to you, you’d probably be bored in a week but because she ignores you and calls you out, you can’t stop thinking about her.”
Heeseung pointed the ball at Jake threateningly, though his smirk was fighting to stay hidden. “Keep talking and I’ll make you run extra laps, Sim.”
The team laughed again, but Jake just held up his hands in surrender, still smiling. “I’m just saying, man. One day you’re gonna realize you’re not annoying her because it’s funny, you’re doing it because you like the way she fights back.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes and turned away, dribbling the ball toward the court to end the conversation. But as practice resumed and he sank a clean three pointer, Jake’s words lingered in the back of his mind longer than he wanted to admit.
Maybe there was a tiny bit of truth to it. Or maybe he just really, really enjoyed getting on your nerves.
The laughter from the team slowly died down as practice resumed. Heeseung shook off Jake’s teasing comment, channeling the slight irritation into sharper shots. He sank another clean three pointer, the ball swishing through the net with satisfying precision.
For a few minutes, the court felt like the only place where everything made sense no annoying neighbors, no complicated feelings, just the game. Then the gym doors swung open with a loud bang.
Everyone turned as a tall, sharply dressed man in a tailored coat strode in, his presence immediately sucking the casual energy out of the room. Coach paused mid instruction, nodding respectfully.
Heeseung’s stomach dropped the moment he recognized the figure his father. Mr. Lee didn’t smile. He never did when he showed up unannounced like this. His eyes scanned the court with cold calculation, lingering on Heeseung with clear disapproval.
“Take five, boys,” Coach called out, sensing the shift in atmosphere. Heeseung wiped the sweat from his brow and walked over, jaw already tight. “Dad what are you doing here?”Mr. Lee stopped a few feet away, arms folded behind his back. His voice was low but carried easily across the quiet gym.
“I came to see if my son is actually putting in the work that’s supposed to get him into the NBA,” he said flatly. “From what I’ve been hearing, it doesn’t look like it.”Heeseung’s friends lingered nearby, pretending to drink water but clearly listening.
“I’ve been at every practice,” Heeseung replied, keeping his tone even. “Coach said my shooting percentage is up this week—”
“Don’t make excuses,” his father cut him off sharply. “Your brother Heedo was never this distracted at your age, he was laser focused top scorer captainfull ride to the best program in the country. And you? You’re out here laughing with your little friends during water breaks, probably thinking about parties and girls instead of the game.”
Heeseung’s grip tightened on the basketball until his knuckles turned white.“I’m not distracted,” he said through gritted teeth. Mr.Lee stepped closer, voice dropping into that familiar, cutting tone that always found its mark.
“You’re good for nothing if you can’t even focus on what matters. All that talent wasted because you’d rather play around and act like some campus king. You think the scouts care about your popularity? they don’t, you will never be enough if you keep this up and you will certainly never be better than your brother.”
The words landed like punches. Heedo — the golden child. The one who had already made it pro overseas. The one their father never stopped comparing him to.Heeseung’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. He wanted to snap back, to defend himself, but years of this had taught him it was useless. His father never listened.
Mr. Lee straightened his coat, expression unchanging. “Fix it or don’t bother coming home for the holidays, i didn’t raise a failure.”Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out of the gym, the heavy doors swinging shut behind him with a final, echoing thud. The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
Heeseung stood there for a moment, staring at the floor, chest tight with anger and something heavier he refused to name. The team slowly went back to practice, but the energy had shifted. Jake shot him a concerned look, but Heeseung ignored it, dribbling the ball harder than necessary as he moved back onto the court.
Inside, the familiar bitterness churned.His father’s words echoed louder than any cheering crowd ever could. You will never be enough. You will never be better than your brother. Heeseung sank another shot, but this time it didn’t feel satisfying.
All he could think about was how easy it was to annoy the girl next door because at least when she glared at him and called him an entitled asshole, he felt something other than this hollow, crushing weight.
The heavy gym doors swung shut behind Mr. Lee, leaving an awkward silence in his wake. The team tried to resume practice, but the atmosphere had soured.
Heeseung stood frozen for a few seconds, staring at the spot where his father had been. The familiar sting of those words good for nothing, never enough, never better than your brother settled heavy in his chest like lead.
Jake jogged over, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man don’t let him get to you, your dad’s always been like that you’re killing it out here.”
“Yeah,” Beomgyu added, spinning the ball on his finger. “Ignore him, you’re the one who’s gonna make it to the NBA, not Heedo.” Jay nodded. “Come on, let’s run some more plays we’ll crush the next game.”Heeseung forced a half smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah sure.”
He went through the motions for the rest of practice dribbling, shooting, defending but he was quiet. No cocky jokes no teasing his teammates no loud laughter. Every time someone tried to pull him into conversation or hype him up after a good play, he gave short, one word replies and kept his head down. The usual spark was gone.
Even Coach noticed, shooting him concerned glances but saying nothing.The moment practice officially ended, Heeseung grabbed his bag and left first, ignoring the calls from his friends asking if he wanted to grab food. He needed air. He needed to get away from the echoes of his father’s voice.
He walked aimlessly for a while, the cool evening air doing little to clear his head. Eventually, his feet carried him toward the small café just off campus the one with decent coffee and quiet corners where he sometimes went to think.He pushed open the door, the bell jingling softly, and scanned the room out of habit and then he saw you.
You were sitting alone at a corner table near the window, surrounded by textbooks, notes, and your laptop. Your hair was tied up messily, a pen between your teeth as you frowned at something on the screen. You looked focused serious and annoyingly cute in that concentrated way of yours.
A small, familiar spark ignited in his chest the one that always appeared whenever he spotted you. Before he could think better of it, Heeseung walked straight over and slid into the seat across from you without asking.You looked up, startled at first, then your expression quickly shifted into pure annoyance.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, voice sharp but low enough not to disturb the other customers. You closed your laptop slightly, glaring at him. “This is my table, go sit somewhere else.”
Heeseung leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms, that signature smirk slowly returning despite the heavy weight still sitting in his stomach. Seeing your irritated face felt lighter somehow. Easier than dealing with everything else.
“Relax, miss morals,” he said, voice teasing. “I’m not here to ruin your precious study time. Just saw you and thought I’d say hi to my favorite neighbor.”
You rolled your eyes so hard it was almost impressive. “Favorite? We barely tolerate each other and I’m trying to work unlike some people who can afford to slack off because ‘daddy can pay for everything.’”
The jab should’ve stung more, especially after his father’s visit, but instead it made Heeseung’s smirk widen. There, it was that fire. That complete lack of care for who he was or what people usually said to him. You didn’t tiptoe around him. You didn’t try to impress him. You just called him out.
It felt strangely nice. Not in a romantic way, just refreshing ( liar liar liar he is totally in love with her ) He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “Ouch straight for the throat today. What are you working on that’s got you so grumpy? Another museum thing? Planning to curate an exhibit called ‘Why Heeseung Should Shut Up’?”
You gave him a flat look, clearly not amused. “It’s for my capstone project and yes, if it helps keep loud neighbors quiet, I might include a whole section on it.”
Heeseung chuckled softly, the sound genuine even if it was quiet. For the first time since his dad had shown up, the tight knot in his chest loosened just a fraction. He realized something in that moment. Your company wasn’t bad.
In fact, sitting here watching you get all annoyed and snappy at him felt better than sitting alone with his father’s words ringing in his head. It was simple predictable in the best way. You gave him a reaction real, unfiltered and for a few minutes, it made everything else fade into the background.
He loved annoying you. Not because he wanted to hurt you but because when you pushed back, it reminded him he was still here. Still capable of feeling something other than pressure and disappointment.
“Fine,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though he made no move to leave. “I’ll behave for now but only if you tell me what that exhibit is actually about.” You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, clearly debating whether to kick him out or just ignore him. Heeseung waited, smirk still in place, secretly hoping you’d keep arguing with him a little longer.
ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ. heeseung’s pov !
Heeseung woke up to a heavy, unfamiliar silence.
His eyes opened slowly, the soft gray morning light filtering through the curtains. His body felt sore in places that reminded him immediately of last night a dull ache in his shoulders, the faint stickiness between the sheets, the faint scent of sex still hanging in the air.
He turned his head to the side the bed was empty. The spot where you had been lying was cold, the pillow slightly dented but untouched now. No clothes scattered on the floor no shoes by the door nothing.
Heeseung sat up slowly, rubbing his face with both hands. The memories came back in quiet, unflinching flashes the party you in that short black skirt.The heated dancing that turned into something reckless.The desperate makeout in his car while horns blared behind you.
How he’d carried you inside, how urgently you both had moved against each other against the door, then on this bed.The way you had moaned his name.The way he had finished inside you.
And how, afterward, he had pulled you close under the duvet, your back against his chest, both of you falling asleep in silence.
Now you were gone. He glanced at the clock. 7:23 a.m. You must have woken up in a panic sometime in the early hours and slipped out while he was still asleep. The realization settled in his stomach like a stone heavy, uncomfortable, and strangely final.
Heeseung let out a long, tired breath and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat there for a moment, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. This was a mistake, a stupid, drunken mistake.
You had always made it clear how much you couldn’t stand him. The constant complaints about his noise, the glares in the hallway, the way you called him entitled behind his back.
Last night had been nothing more than too much alcohol and bad judgment on both sides. You waking up and running away only confirmed it.He didn’t blame you. If anything, he felt a quiet wave of regret wash over him. He should have known better.
He should have stopped things before they went that far. Now things between you two were already tense, this was going to be even more awkward.
Heeseung stood up and walked to the bathroom. While the shower heated up, he looked at himself in the mirror. There were faint scratch marks on his shoulders and a small bruise near his collarbone. Physical proof that last night had really happened.
He stepped under the hot water, letting it run over his face and shoulders. It never happened, he told himself. That was the only way forward.He would forget about it. Pretend the entire night was a blur he couldn’t quite remember.
No teasing no comments in the hallway no bringing it up ever again. You clearly wanted to erase it, and honestly so did he. The last thing he needed right now was more complications in his life especially with someone who lived right next door.
After the shower, he got dressed in a simple black t-shirt and sweatpants. He made coffee in the kitchen, moving on autopilot. The apartment felt too quiet now.
Heeseung leaned against the counter, sipping the bitter drink, and stared at the wall that separated his place from yours.From now on, things would go back to normal. You would keep avoiding him like you always did.
He would keep his music at a reasonable volume when he remembered. And neither of you would ever speak about what happened last night. It was better this way, cleaner and simpler.
He finished his coffee, rinsed the mug, and set it in the sink. Last night was a mistake and as far as Heeseung was concerned, it was already forgotten.
For the next two weeks, you turned your life into a carefully orchestrated mission of avoidance while your body slowly started betraying you in ways you couldn’t ignore. The mantra remained the same this never happened.
Every morning began the same way. Your alarm went off at 6:15 a.m., pulling you from restless sleep. The moment you sat up, a familiar wave of nausea rolled through your stomach, not violent, but persistent and queasy, making the room feel slightly off balance.
You’d sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, breathing slowly through your nose, waiting for it to pass. Some mornings it did. Others, you’d rush to the bathroom and dry heave over the sink, nothing coming up except bitter bile and a metallic taste that lingered on your tongue.
Once the worst of it subsided, you’d quickly get ready, choosing simple, comfortable clothes that wouldn’t draw attention. Then came the listening part. You’d press your ear to the front door, heart beating a little too fast, straining to hear any sound from Heeseung’s apartment next door.
If you caught even the faintest click of his lock or the low murmur of his voice on a phone call, you’d wait sometimes ten minutes, sometimes twenty pretending to reorganize your bag or check your notes until the hallway was silent again.
Leaving became a tactical exercise. You slipped out as quietly as possible, taking the side staircase instead of the main hallway whenever you spotted his car in the parking lot. The fatigue hit hardest during these moments.
Your legs felt heavier than usual, and by the time you reached campus, you were already drained, needing to sit down in the library for a few minutes just to catch your breath. Coming home was even more stressful.
You started timing your returns obsessively. If practice usually ended around 6 p.m., you’d stay late at the library or in an empty classroom, working on your capstone exhibition proposal until you were sure Heeseung was either out with friends or already inside. One evening, the dizziness caught you off guard.
You had just turned the corner into your hallway when the world tilted slightly. You had to lean against the wall, breathing shallowly, while a strong wave of nausea made your stomach churn.
The faint scent of someone’s dinner cooking nearby sent you rushing the last few steps to your door. The moment you got inside, you barely made it to the toilet before vomiting actual, forceful vomiting that left you trembling on the cold tile floor.
You told yourself it was stress. The constant hyper vigilance. The lack of proper sleep. The emotional weight of pretending that night had never occurred. But the symptoms kept creeping in, growing harder to dismiss.
Smells became your enemy. The aroma of coffee from the café near campus, which you used to love, now made your stomach revolt. You switched to plain crackers and ginger tea, keeping a secret stash in your bag.
Even the scent of your own shampoo sometimes triggered a gag reflex. Food tasted strange too salty, too sweet, or completely off. You lost interest in meals altogether, surviving on small portions that you could keep down.
The fatigue settled deep in your bones. You’d come home from classes, collapse on the couch, and wake up hours later feeling like you hadn’t rested at all.
Your breasts felt tender and slightly swollen, brushing against your shirt making you wince. Mood swings hit at random. One minute you were focused on your work, the next you felt inexplicably teary or irritable. All of this made the avoidance even more draining.
One Thursday night, your timing failed you had stayed late at the library, hoping Heeseung would already be inside. When you finally dragged your tired body back to the building, the hallway lights felt blindingly bright.
Just as you reached your door, fumbling with your keys, you heard the unmistakable click of his lock opening.Panic surged through you. Your hands shook so badly that the keys nearly dropped. You managed to slip inside just as his door opened, pressing your back against the wood, heart hammering wildly.
You held your breath, listening to his footsteps pass by. The moment they faded, the nausea hit like a wave. You barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up again, knees weak, tears stinging your eyes from the force of it.
Afterward, you sat on the bathroom floor with your forehead resting on your knees, breathing shakily. This was getting worse.You were exhausted from the constant calculation when to leave, when to return, which route to take, how long to wait in the stairwell. The thin wall between your apartments felt like a constant threat.
You’d hear him moving around sometimes. The low sound of his music ( mercifully quieter these days ), the murmur of his voice when he was on the phone, the occasional laugh. Every sound made your stomach twist with anxiety and unwelcome memories.
You became hyper aware of everything. You avoided cooking anything with strong smells. You did laundry at 2 a.m. when you were sure he was asleep. You even changed the time you took showers, worried the sound of running water might coincide with him coming home.
Yunjin and Soobin noticed the changes. “You’ve been canceling plans a lot,” Yunjin said during one quick lunch. “And you look really tired, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a weak smile while fighting the nausea brought on by the smell of her food. “Just stressed about the capstone deadline it’s taking everything out of me.”
Soobin watched you quietly, concern clear in his eyes, but he didn’t push. Inside your apartment, the symptoms continued to build.
Mornings were brutal. You’d wake up with tender breasts and that persistent queasy feeling. Some days the vomiting was so bad you had to keep a small bucket discreetly by your bed.
The fatigue made it hard to focus during lectures. You'd find yourself zoning out, head heavy, fighting the urge to lay your head on the desk. Yet you refused to connect the dots .It’s just stress, you told yourself repeatedly. The avoidance the guilt the lack of sleep.
You pushed through, continuing your careful dance of avoidance. You timed every exit and entry with military precision. You became an expert at predicting Heeseung’s schedule ( she should become a dispatch employee )
You kept your headphones on to drown out any sound from next door. You buried yourself in your art curator work, sketching exhibition layouts late into the night until your eyes burned.Two full weeks passed in this strange limbo.
You were pale, exhausted, and constantly on edge. The nausea came in unpredictable waves. The fatigue made simple tasks feel monumental. And the fear of accidentally seeing Heeseung in the hallway kept you trapped in this self imposed isolation.
Deep down, a small, terrified voice in the back of your mind whispered that something was very wrong. But you silenced it the same way you silenced every memory of that night this never happened.
You would keep avoiding him. You would keep pretending everything was normal.Even as your body screamed louder and louder that nothing was normal anymore.
One ordinary afternoon, everything shifted. You were sitting in the small campus café with Yunjin and Soobin, the three of you squeezed around a corner table. Yunjin was dramatically slumped in her chair, one hand pressed to her lower stomach, complaining loudly.
“Ugh, my period is literally killing me today,” she groaned, stirring her iced latte with a pout. “Cramps are so bad, I can barely sit straight why does it always hit the worst during the worst season? I swear my uterus hates me.”
Soobin chuckled softly, offering her a sympathetic smile. “Do you want me to grab you some painkillers from the convenience store?” You tried to smile and nod along, but the words barely registered.
Her period is killing her…..
The sentence echoed in your head like a siren your own period. You mentally counted the days. It should have come a full week ago. Seven days late. Maybe more.
You had been so caught up in avoiding Heeseung, dealing with the constant nausea, fatigue, and vomiting that you hadn’t even noticed the date slipping by. Your heart started beating faster.
You pulled out your phone under the table and quietly opened your cycle tracking app. The screen glowed with the familiar calendar. A bright red notification stared back at you
period : 7 days late
You stared at the words until they blurred. No no, no, no. You tried to push the thought away immediately. It had to be stress. The irregular sleep, the constant anxiety of avoiding Heeseung, the vomiting all of it could easily throw your cycle off. That was normal right?
But then the symptoms started flashing through your mind like warning lights. The persistent nausea every morning. The vomiting that left you weak on the bathroom floor. The crushing fatigue that made it hard to stay awake in lectures.
The dizziness, sensitivity to smells, tender, swollen breasts. Your stomach dropped, could you be pregnant?
The word felt foreign and terrifying in your head. No. Absolutely not. You wouldn’t get pregnant from one night. One reckless, stupid night. People had unprotected sex all the time and nothing happened.
You were on the pill…wait, were you? You had been so stressed with midterms that you couldn’t even remember if you had taken it properly that week. The thought made bile rise in your throat again.
Across the table, Yunjin and Soobin were still talking something about upcoming assignments and a group project. Their voices sounded far away, like you were underwater.You couldn’t focus on a single word they were saying. Your mind was spinning, heart pounding so hard you were sure they could hear it.
Yunjin waved a hand in front of your face. “Hello? Earth to you! you’ve been spacing out the entire time are you okay?”You blinked, forcing yourself back to the present. Your mouth felt dry.
“I—yeah, sorry just tired,” you mumbled. “Guys, I think I’m gonna head home early today my head’s killing me.”Soobin frowned, concern clear in his eyes. “Do you want me to walk you back?”“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly, already standing up and grabbing your bag. “I’ll text you later promise.”
You left the café before they could protest, walking fast, then almost jogging once you were out of sight. The nausea was back, stronger now, mixing with pure terror. Your hands were shaking as you headed straight for the small convenience store two blocks away.
Inside the store, you felt like every camera was watching you. You moved quickly through the aisles, heart hammering, until you found the family planning section. There were several pregnancy test kits.
You grabbed the most reliable looking one with trembling fingers, not even reading the brand properly. The cashier gave you a neutral look as you paid, but you couldn’t meet her eyes.
Bag clutched tightly to your chest, you practically ran the entire way back to your apartment building. You took the side stairs again, praying Heeseung wasn’t around. The moment you were inside your own apartment, you locked the door twice and leaned against it, breathing hard.
You pulled the kit out of the bag with shaking hands. The box felt heavy dangerous. You read the instructions carefully, twice. Pee on the stick. Wait three minutes. One line = not pregnant. Two lines = pregnant simple but terrifying.
You went to the bathroom, heart pounding so loudly it echoed in your ears. You followed every step exactly, hands trembling so badly you almost dropped the test. When you were done, you placed the stick on the counter and set a timer on your phone three minutes.
You paced the small bathroom, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Every second felt like an hour. The nausea was back, but this time it had nothing to do with morning sickness. It was pure fear.
What if it was positive?
What if you were actually pregnant with Heeseung’s baby?
The thought made your knees weak. You slid down the wall until you were sitting on the cold tile floor, staring at the test on the counter like it was a bomb about to go off.The timer was still counting down.
Two minutes left. You hugged your knees to your chest, eyes fixed on the small plastic stick that now, held your entire future in two little lines. You were so scared.
The timer on your phone hit zero with a soft chime that felt deafening in the small bathroom. You stayed frozen on the cold tile floor for several long seconds, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the pregnancy test lying face up on the counter like it was a live grenade.
Slowly, you pushed yourself up on shaky legs and stepped closer. One line was already dark and clear the control line. The second line was faint at first, but unmistakable. A pale pink line slowly darkening right beside the first one.
two lines = positive
You blinked hard, once, twice, as if the result would magically change if you stared long enough.“No…” you whispered, voice cracking. “No, that can’t be right.”Denial crashed over you like a wave. You snatched the test off the counter and held it closer to the light, turning it at different angles. Maybe it was a faulty test.
Maybe the line was an evaporation line. Maybe you had read the instructions wrong. You grabbed the box again and reread the instructions three more times, your hands trembling so badly the paper shook.
But no matter how many times you checked, the two lines stared back at you, clear and undeniable. It was positive. You were pregnant. The reality slammed into you all at once.
Your knees buckled. You sank back down to the bathroom floor, the test still clutched tightly in your hand. A sob tore out of your throat before you could stop it. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as the full weight of what this meant crashed over you.
You were pregnant with Heeseung’s baby. The boy you couldn’t stand. The neighbor you had spent months avoiding. The one person you had sworn to pretend never touched you.
A broken sound escaped you half sob, half laugh of pure disbelief. Your free hand moved instinctively to your stomach, pressing lightly against the still flat surface. There was a life growing inside you right now. A tiny, real consequence of one reckless, drunken night.
The crying came harder. You curled in on yourself, forehead resting on your knees as sobs wracked your body. All the symptoms you had tried to blame on stress the nausea, the vomiting, the fatigue, the dizziness suddenly made perfect, terrifying sense.
You were going to have a baby. And the father was the last person on earth you wanted to be tied to. After several long minutes, the tears slowed, leaving you drained and hollow. You wiped your face with the back of your hand, staring blankly at the two pink lines.
You made a decision right there on the bathroom floor. You were not telling Heeseung anything, not a single word.He didn’t need to know. He would never know. Telling him would only make everything worse the teasing, the drama, the forced proximity, the endless complications with someone you already couldn’t stand.
You could barely handle living next door to him as it was. Bringing a child into that mess was unthinkable. This was your problem. Your body, your choice. You would handle it quietly. You would get rid of it.The thought made fresh tears sting your eyes, but you forced them back. There was no other option.
You were still in school, chasing your dream of becoming an art curator. Your life was barely stable right now. A baby, especially one with Heeseung as the father would ruin everything.
You stayed on the floor for a long time, clutching the test, letting the weight of the decision settle over you.
Eventually, you stood up on unsteady legs. You wrapped the test in toilet paper and hid it deep in the trash can under some tissues. You washed your face with cold water until the redness in your eyes faded a little.
You looked at your reflection pale, exhausted, terrified and whispered to yourself “This never happened.” You would schedule an. appointment. You would end this quietly.You would move on with your life and never speak of that night again.
But as you turned off the bathroom light and stepped into your silent apartment, the weight in your chest felt heavier than ever. You were pregnant. And for the first time since that night, the wall between you and Heeseung felt like it was closing in.
The decision sat heavy in your chest like a stone. You weren’t going to tell Heeseung. You were going to end this quietly and move on with your life. The very next morning, you tried to make the appointment.
You sat on your bed with your laptop open, hands shaking as you searched for clinics near campus that offered termination services. Your stomach was already churning with nausea again, but you forced yourself to focus.
You found a few options a women’s health clinic downtown and a Planned Parenthood branch about twenty minutes away. You clicked on the booking page for the first one. The form asked for your name, date of birth, contact number, and reason for visit.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time. You couldn’t do it. Every time you tried to type your real information, panic surged through you. What if someone recognized your name? What if the clinic called or sent confirmation texts while you were near Heeseung?
What if the appointment somehow got back to campus gossip? The thought of walking into a clinic alone, explaining your situation to a stranger, and going through with it made your throat close up.
You closed the laptop without saving anything. You told yourself you’d try again tomorrow when you felt calmer. But tomorrow came and went. Then the next day. And the next. Meanwhile, the symptoms grew worse.
The nausea was no longer just morning sickness it hit you at random times throughout the day. The smell of food in the cafeteria made you gag. Even walking past the coffee shop near campus triggered violent waves that left you rushing to the nearest bathroom.
You started carrying saltine crackers and a small bottle of ginger ale everywhere, but they barely helped anymore.
Vomiting became more frequent. One afternoon during a lecture, you had to excuse yourself midway through and barely made it to the restroom before throwing up.
You returned to class pale and sweaty, mumbling something about food poisoning when Yunjin looked at you worriedly.
Fatigue wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. You fell asleep in the library twice that week, waking up with your cheek stuck to your notebook. Simple tasks like climbing the stairs to your apartment left you breathless and dizzy.
Your breasts were constantly tender, and your mood swung wildly one moment you were numb, the next you felt like crying over nothing. Yunjin and Soobin started noticing. During lunch on Thursday, Yunjin set her chopsticks down and stared at you.
“Okay, something is seriously wrong,” she said, voice firm but concerned. “You’ve been looking like a ghost for days, you barely eat anything, you keep disappearing to the bathroom, and you look exhausted even when you say you slept are you sick? Is it stress? Talk to us.”
Soobin nodded, his gentle eyes filled with worry. “You’ve been canceling plans and spacing out a lot. If something’s going on, you don’t have to deal with it alone. We’re here.”You forced a weak smile, pushing your untouched food around your plate. The smell of it was making you nauseous again.
“I’m okay, really,” you lied, voice quieter than usual. “Just… really behind on my capstone. The deadline is stressing me out more than I thought. I’ll be fine once I catch up.”
They didn’t look convinced, but they let it drop for the moment. Still, you could feel their eyes on you for the rest of the meal. Even Heeseung started noticing something was off.
You had managed to avoid direct contact with him for weeks, but it was impossible to hide everything when you lived next door.
One evening, you were coming home later than usual after another failed attempt to book the appointment online. You felt dizzy and nauseous, moving slowly up the hallway with your keys already in hand. As you reached your door, Heeseung’s door opened.
He stepped out, wearing a simple black hoodie, hair slightly messy like he’d just come back from practice. His eyes landed on you immediately.
You froze for half a second, then quickly turned your face away and fumbled with your lock, trying to get inside before he could say anything. But Heeseung didn’t tease you this time.
Instead, he paused in his doorway, brow slightly furrowed as he watched you. You looked pale. Thinner. There were dark circles under your eyes, and the way you moved seemed off fragile.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. For once, the usual cocky remark didn’t come.“You good?” he asked quietly, voice lacking its normal edge.
You didn’t answer. You finally got the door open and slipped inside without looking at him, shutting it quickly behind you
Heeseung stood there for a moment longer, staring at your closed door with a strange, unsettled feeling in his chest. Something wasn’t right with you. He could see it.But after everything after that night you both had silently agreed to forget he didn’t know if he had the right to ask.
Inside your apartment, you leaned against the door, breathing hard. Fresh tears stung your eyes as another wave of nausea hit you. You slid down to the floor, hugging your knees. You still hadn’t been able to book the appointment.
The symptoms were getting worse every day, your friends were worried and now even Heeseung had noticed something was wrong. You pressed your forehead to your knees, whispering to yourself again and again
“This never happened… this never happened…” But the lie was starting to feel impossible to keep. Heeseung had noticed. For the past two weeks, it had become painfully obvious that you were avoiding him like the plague.
At first, he thought it was the usual the cold shoulder after that night you both had silently agreed to forget. But it quickly went beyond that. You timed your movements with military precision.
He would hear your door open and close at odd hours, always when he was either inside or already gone. You took the side stairs. You left earlier than usual in the mornings and came back much later at night.
Even at university, catching a glimpse of you had become nearly impossible. You seemed to disappear into the library or empty classrooms the moment practice ended.It was clear you were doing everything in your power to never cross paths with him.
Heeseung told himself it didn’t bother him. He had decided to forget that night too. No teasing. No bringing it up. Just normal or as normal as things could be when you lived right next door
But something was wrong. You looked terrible lately. He first noticed it in passing the dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders seemed to slump with exhaustion. Then it got worse you moved slower.
Your face was paler than usual. You barely left your apartment except for classes, and even then you looked like you were running on empty.
One evening, after a long basketball practice, Heeseung was walking back to the apartment building, gym bag slung over his shoulder. The sun had already set, and the streetlights cast long shadows on the path. That’s when he saw you.
You were a few meters ahead, heading toward the entrance. Your steps were unsteady, one hand pressed lightly against the wall for support.
Even from behind, he could tell something was very wrong. Your posture was slumped, your breathing looked shallow, and you looked like you were barely holding yourself upright.
Heeseung’s stomach tightened. He quickened his pace without thinking and caught up to you just as you reached the building door.“Hey,” he said, voice low and serious, no trace of his usual teasing tone. “Are you alright?”
You turned your head slightly, eyes glassy and tired. The moment you recognized him, your expression hardened.“I don’t have time for your teasing right now, Heeseung,” you muttered weakly, trying to push past him toward the elevator.
Heeseung felt a flash of annoyance, not because you were dismissing him, but because he was genuinely worried and you clearly didn’t believe it.“I’m not teasing,” he said, more sharply than he intended. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
You didn’t respond, just kept walking toward the elevator. Heeseung followed, stepping in right after you. The doors closed, trapping the two of you in the small space. The silence was thick and uncomfortable. He could hear your breathing too fast, too shallow.
When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out first. But the moment your feet hit the hallway, your legs buckled. You swayed dangerously, one hand reaching out blindly for the wall as the world spun around you. Heeseung moved fast.
He dropped his gym bag and caught you before you could hit the floor, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other supporting your back. Your body went limp against him for a few terrifying seconds.
“Shit—” he muttered, heart pounding. “Hey, stay with me.” You were half conscious, mumbling something incoherent about being fine. Heeseung didn’t waste time arguing. He adjusted his grip and lifted you carefully into his arms in bridal style, your head lolling against his shoulder.
Your apartment was right next to his. He fumbled for a moment with your keys ( which had fallen from your hand ) until he managed to unlock the door. He carried you inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and headed straight for your bedroom.
The room was neat but clearly lived in textbooks stacked on the desk, a half finished sketch on the table, a small trash can near the bed. Heeseung gently laid you down on the bed, pulling the blanket over you. Your face was pale, forehead slightly damp with sweat.
He stood there for a moment, unsure what to do. You looked so small and fragile like this. Nothing like the fiery girl who used to bang on his door and call him an entitled asshole.
Heeseung grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and placed it on your nightstand. Then he pulled up the chair from your desk and sat down beside the bed, watching you carefully.
Your breathing slowly evened out. The tension in your face relaxed as you slipped into a deeper sleep. Heeseung stayed there, elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what was going on with you.
He didn’t know why you looked so sick. He didn’t even know if you’d want him here when you woke up. But right now, leaving you alone didn’t feel like an option. So he stayed quietly waiting.
Until your breathing became steady and deep, and he was sure you were fully asleep. Heeseung stayed. He told himself he’d only wait until you fell into a proper sleep, but the longer he sat there watching your pale face and shallow breathing, the harder it became to leave.
You looked exhausted, truly exhausted in a way that went beyond simple tiredness. Dark circles under your eyes, lips slightly chapped, skin lacking its usual color. Something was clearly wrong, and the protective instinct he didn’t know he had kept him rooted to the chair.
After almost an hour, when your breathing had deepened into steady, even inhales, Heeseung stood up quietly. He couldn’t just sit there doing nothing. He moved silently through your apartment, careful not to make noise.
Your kitchen was small and neat, but the fridge was nearly empty a few bottles of water, some crackers, and not much else. Heeseung frowned. No wonder you looked so drained. He opened the cupboards and found rice, a couple of eggs, and some ginger.
Simple gentle on the stomach. He decided to make congee something light that his mom used to make for him when he was sick.
He worked quietly, chopping what little he could find, boiling water, and stirring the pot on low heat. The smell of ginger and warm rice slowly filled the small apartment. He hoped it would help when you woke up. Maybe it would make you feel a little better.
He kept glancing toward the bedroom every few minutes, making sure you were still resting. Almost two hours later, you started stirring.
Heeseung was just turning off the stove when he heard movement from the bedroom. He poured some congee into a bowl, added a bit of water to make it lighter, and was about to bring it to you when
You bolted upright in bed, eyes wide with sudden panic. The smell of the food hit you like a wave. Your face went even paler, hand flying to your mouth as nausea surged violently. Heeseung’s eyes widened. “Hey—”
You didn’t wait. You scrambled off the bed on shaky legs and ran straight to the bathroom, barely making it in time.
Heeseung followed right behind you, worry spiking through his chest. He reached the bathroom door just as you dropped to your knees in front of the toilet and started throwing up violently.
“Shit—” He moved quickly, kneeling beside you without hesitation. One hand gently gathered your hair, holding it back from your face. His other hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay I’ve got you, just breathe.”
You retched again, body trembling with the force of it. Heeseung stayed right there, murmuring quiet reassurances, his hand never stopping its gentle motion on your back.
When the worst of it seemed to pass, he reached over and flushed the toilet, then grabbed a clean towel from the rack and dampened it with cool water.“Here,” he said softly, handing you the towel. “Wipe your face.”
You took it with trembling hands, still breathing hard. Heeseung stood up briefly to get a glass of water from the sink and brought it back to you.“Small sips,” he instructed, crouching down again. “Don’t drink too fast.”
While you rinsed your mouth and took careful sips, Heeseung’s eyes wandered around the small bathroom, looking for anything that might help. His gaze landed on the trash can beside the sink. Something white and plastic was poking out from under some tissues.
Curious, he reached down and pulled it out, it was a pregnancy test. Two distinct red lines stared back at him clear, unmistakable, and positive. Heeseung froze.
His brain short circuited for a second. The test felt heavy in his hand as the reality sank in. Positive you were pregnant. He slowly turned his head toward you. You were already looking at him.
Your eyes were wide with pure terror, face drained of all color, lips parted in shock. You looked caught completely and utterly caught like the worst secret in the world had just been ripped open. The glass of water trembled in your hand.
Heeseung’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. His gaze flicked between the test in his hand and your terrified expression.
The pieces clicked together horribly fast the avoidance, the exhaustion, the vomiting, the way you looked like you were barely holding yourself together for the past two weeks.
This wasn’t just stress this was because of that night because of him. Heeseung swallowed hard, his voice coming out quieter than he expected.
“…Is this yours?” The bathroom fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. You were still staring at him, tears already gathering in your eyes again, looking like you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.
Heeseung didn’t know what to say. He only knew that everything had just changed. Heeseung stared at the two red lines on the pregnancy test for what felt like an eternity.
The bathroom was deathly quiet except for your shaky breathing. When he finally looked up at you, your face was pale, eyes wide with pure terror, tears already spilling down your cheeks. He swallowed hard, his throat tight.
“…Are you pregnant?” he asked, voice low and rough. You didn’t speak at first. Your lips trembled as fresh tears rolled down your face. Then you gave a small, barely noticeable nod.
Heeseung felt something twist sharply in his chest. He looked back down at the test, then at you again. His next question came out quieter, almost hesitant.
“Is the baby mine?” The moment the words left his mouth, your face crumpled completely. You broke into heavy, broken sobs, shoulders shaking as you tried to cover your mouth with one hand.
“I’m sorry…” you choked out between cries. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t want this to happen, i never meant for any of this, it was just one stupid night and I— I’m planning on getting rid of it. I won’t bother you with any of this, i won’t get in your way. You don’t have to worry about anything, i’ll handle it quietly.”
Heeseung’s expression shifted the instant you said those words. Hurt flashed across his face raw, unguarded hurt. His brows drew together, jaw tightening as he processed what you were saying.
The idea that you were planning to terminate the pregnancy without even telling him felt like a punch to the gut. His hand holding the test lowered slowly to his side. You kept crying, words tumbling out faster now, desperate and apologetic.
“I’m really sorry. I know you didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for this either, i’ll take care of everything. You can just forget about it…i promise I won’t drag you into anything.”
Heeseung stayed silent for a long moment, staring at you as you sat on the bathroom floor, looking small and devastated.
The hurt in his chest mixed with something heavier confusion, disbelief, and a strange ache he couldn’t quite name. Finally, his voice came out low and strained.
“and you didn’t bother telling me?”
PERMANENT TAGLIST : @wonscrchy @miniij @ni-kichromeheartzz @evansfangz @jakeycakeys @addictedtohobi @babydumplingpandabamboo @simjakeyjake @angelhyuka @nodoubtily @chanchamm @ni-k1ttie @yangw0ni3 @mystgene @enheenie
FIC TAGLIST : @fluveryss @st4g1rlies @lillotus17 @mel-reads @cherrilimae @reysblr @luvksnn @papichulomacy @imsojuliaaaa @deobitifull @ckline35 @ellushic @axfyl @gthae @enhypens-hoe @nithxhoon @en-stellar @sievenderz @yunkivamp @isa942572 @starfallia @jellykitti @darjeelinglemontea @graythecoffeebean @eirlyscloud @heehee67 @lawjakesim @vananas @fancypeacepersona @hoonlvrrz @thinkinboutbin @erehkinnie30 @encorp @satorus-slut @shreyanshii11 @cylinax @zoe1love @vissnipherwifeey @lanadellarry13 @simjaeyunslut @simjaeyunlvrclub @soraokkotsu
comments and reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏼
how i feel opening up tumblr to read x reader ffs at my big age
girl get off that c.ai and embrace the 'x reader'
How it feels logging onto Tumblr to read fics after joining a new fandom
THE BET - SJY ── .✦
Jake sim, one of the most popular boys in school makes it his goal to have you fall for him, a simple bet with his friends. Little does he know, he’ll be the one falling to his knees for you
sim jaeyun x fem!reader
content warnings: smut, angst, inexperienced reader x experienced jake, pussy drunk jake, pussy eating, fingering, dry humping, multiple makeout scenes, mutual masterbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of bullying & alcohol, jake is a massive giver, and a simp (begging), hyung line mentioned, porn with a plot..let me know if I missed anything!
word count: 16.8k
bonus scene here!
Going to a school where everyone around you got what they wanted was torture. Especially for someone like you. You don't come from a wealthy family like the other students do. Some people would call your home life unfortunate if they knew. Which is exactly why almost no one knows.
You only got accepted into this school because of a scholarship program, after endless studying, and trying to stay focused at your old school, that was your out.
It was hard though, with the bullying, the mean comments, trying to remain sane while everyone in your life pushed and pointed like you were some object for observation and critiquing.
But at your new school, people actually leave you alone. You've been attending here for a few months now. As a natural observer it only took 1 to understand the dynamic of the people here.
From the designer hand bags, to the freshly blown out hair, the girls here were not only gorgeous but also had the money to maintain things like that, it was obvious why they didn't bother you. Because you weren't a threat.
Just like any other school there's always those cliques, the groups of people who hang around the same circle. Yours happens to be you and two other girls, your first friends you made here, Lyla and Gigi.
You have a hard time telling if they pity you, they know your situation. How your mother constantly tries to live off the wealth of other men, they know you don’t live in a good area—
“Oh my gosh he totally looked at me, didn't he look at me?” Lyla says, eyes darting between you and Gigi.
“He quite literally looks at anything with boobs Ly..” Gigi says, taking a bite of the school cafeterias fries.
“Come on, at least feed into my delusions a little bit” She says, stealing one of your fries.
You turn your head slightly, three tables back sits the most known group of boys in the whole school. Football players. Typical.
“You’re talking about Heeseung right?” you say turning back to your friends. “Obviously! I mean with Gigi being Jay’s sister obviously he knows who I am right?” She says, eyes wide
“Yeah- im sure he does, don't they hang out a ton after school and stuff too?” You ask, playing with the salad on your plate with a fork.
“Yup! At Gigi’s too, most of the time, and especially after practice, when they're hot and sweaty-”
“Okay gross. my brother is on that team” Gigi says, gagging
You've been to her house a few times, whether it was for one of your group projects, or to help her out with some school work, Slept over often too, I mean her house was huge.
Her parents even offered to have you sleep in one of the 6 guest bedrooms. But Lyla said it doesn't count as a sleepover if we’re not all together.
“Incoming, 12 o’clock.” Lyla says looking past your shoulder at the group of boys.
“How much you wanna bet she’s gonna yell at him” Gigi says, making you turn around, you watch as a familiar blonde haired girl you've seen around campus storms into the cafeteria, heels clicking on the ground as she approaches them.
“Jake where the fuck were you!” She yells, glaring at the dark haired boy, number 15 on the football team. You only know that because Lyla made you go through the list of them to figure out which one Heeseung was.
You watch him, the way his eyes never leave his phone when he speaks. “God- What do you not fucking understand about where done?” He says finally looking up at her, the other guys around him look like they're watching a movie while they observe the interaction.
“But you didn't even-” she starts “Clara I don't want to hear your bullshit okay? Just leave me alone.” He says, tone irritated.
“Fine- you know you're just like all the other guys. Only talking to girls just to get your dick wet.”You watch the way her grip tightens on her designer bag.
“You didn't seem to mind.” He says, making the guys around him let out the laughs they've been holding.
“Fuck you- you’re so going to regret this!” She says, and you watch as he rolls his eyes and focuses back on his phone
“She looks like she's about to throw a tantrum” Gigi says, making your attention go back to your friends
“I mean Jake knew what he was getting into when they started..messing around" Lyla says.
You just nod, half listening before turning your head again to look at the group, they’re back to laughing, probably at the interaction that just happened.
“-and then we can order pizza or something, it’s the perfect night for it too! You in y/n?” Lyla says, and you look at them confused “Huh?”
“Girl, The Victoria's Secret fashion show duh, it's live tonight.” She says "Gigi's house obviously since you know, movie theater room”
“I love the way you volunteered my own place, But yeah, my house tonight” She says shrugging
“Um- I dont know guys..I kind of have to study-”
“Y/n it's friday night. Come on, you have all weekend to study, please!” She says looking at you with those infamous puppy dog eyes
“Fine, fine ill be there, what time?” You ask, picking up your phone.
“Like 7 ish?” Lyla says, looking at Gigi who just nods, “Yeah, Jay won't be home either, pretty sure him and his friends are going to some party.”
“Your parents are letting him?” Lyla asks, brow raising.
“They're not even home, they literally left for their anniversary trip not even 3 hours ago.” Gigi says checking her phone. “So it will just be us then? she nods.
The rest of the day is a blur, between trying to set up tutoring appointments with your counselor, because apparently it looks good to help other students, and trying to finish your own work so you can actually go to Gigi’s.
You mentally prepare yourself to ask your mom if you can go tonight, hoping she's in a good mood. Knocking lightly on her bedroom door “Mom?” you ask quietly and the door swings open, you take in her attire, the club dress, the really tall heels, her hair and make up done.
“You’re going on another date?” You ask brow raising
“Yeah, remember that guy from the bar I told you about, Chris?" She says smiling, you nod even though you don't remember her saying a thing about him.
“Right- um well I was just wondering if I can go to Gigi’s tonight? I finished my homework and stuff and its also friday so-”
“Sure” She says, and you pause. It must be because she's going on a date, because you would have gotten a whole lot more shit.
“Can you sleep over too.” It's not a question.
“Uh- I can ask” You say shrugging
“Well just try too okay? Im about to leave” She says, putting in her earrings and giving you a very rare kiss on your forehead before walking out the door, leaving you confused as ever.
Its like the universe was on your side when you opened your phone to see the group chat messages
Lyla: Gigi we should just have a sleepover
Lyla: It's already gonna be late when the live is done too
Lyla: Plus we haven't had one in so long
Gigi: yeah I was literally going to ask if you guys wanted to stay the night anyway lol
Lyla: YAY! Good because my bags already packed
Gigi: Y/n can u come too?
You: Yup! I'll be there
You set your phone down so you can focus on packing an overnight bag, you don't need to overdress either, so you settle on wearing some shorts, a hoodie, and fluffy socks with slippers, this is a sleepover after all
When you get to Gigi's house- no, mansion, because this can't even compare to your house. Lyla comes running out
"You're late!” She says, grabbing your bags from you “It's like 10 minutes-”
“And the show starts in 20!” she says frantically, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the house
You dont think you’ll ever get over how nice it is, from the high ceilings to the expensive paintings on the wall, and the pool in the backyard, probably way too big for a family of four.
You catch the faint smell of popcorn from the kitchen, as Lyla places your bags by the stairs, “Where's Gigi?” you ask
“Shes setting up in the movie room, im trying to finish the popcorn” Lyla says going to the kitchen
You walk down the hall you've grown familiar with, observing the pictures on the wall of Gigi's family
“Y/n- how do you disconnect a Playstation from the TV? Jay didn't even bother to.” She says, clicking random buttons on the remote. You laugh walking over to help her
୨♡୧
“Okay all I have to say is when I get married and stuff, im making my husband buy me that specific set.” Lyla says over the runway music, making you and Gigi laugh because she practically yells over how loud it is.
You open your mouth to speak but stop when all three of your eyes go to the door as it opens, Heeseung walks in pausing as his eyes go to the large TV screen “Holy shit- are you guys watching porn?” He says, looking at the model on the stage, the space instantly feels smaller as Sunghoon pushes past him to get in the room “We’re not watching porn!” Gigi says, pausing the TV
Lyla is just staring at Heeseung, Jay walks in next “Gigi what the hell are you watching-”
“Did we interrupt your group gooning session?” Heeseung says. You watch Gigi's face flush red, now clearly visible since Jay turned on the lights.
“Jay- You said you were going to that stupid ass party tonight!” She says walking over to him “Yeah well it got cancelled.” He says, rolling his eyes. “Bruh I've been wanting to play the ps5 all day” Sunghoon says before looking at the TV again
“Do we not literally have a room for you to do just that?” Gigi says, eyeing down Sunghoon, before looking back at her brother.
“Dude someone left a whole bag of popcorn in the microwave-” Jake walks in pausing when he sees everyone in here, his eyes land on you for a split second before looking at the TV “What are they watch-”
“Its not fucking porn! You all are so stupid!” Gigi says before her eyes snap back to Jay “I literally said I was having Y/n and Lyla over in our messages!”
“Yeah well I forgot” He rolls his eyes again, you cant help but observe the other four boys, you watch Heeseungs eyes, following them to Lyla.. that has to be considered eye fucking.
You can't help but look at Jake though, he's wearing glasses. Are they prescription? He’s looking at something on his phone. He just showed Sunghoon something on his phone that made him smile. Sunghoon looks at you for a second before nudging Jake's shoulder, Jake is looking at you- is he looking behind you? You turn your head slightly, before looking back at him, why is he smirking-
“Fine! You keep the movie room well just go in the living room. Just don't snitch” Jay pleads, not even embarrassed that he's begging in front of his friends, Gigi just beams proudly, knowing she's won when they walk out.
୨♡୧
“She’s a virgin?!” Jake practically yells, making Heeseung, and Sunghoon's eyes snap to him.
“You’re so fucking lucky the movie room is noise cancellation.” Jay says pinching his eyebrows
“And- I don't even know if it's true, I just over heard Gi talking on the phone with her and Lyla a few weeks back” Heeseung and Sunghoons attention on the movie long forgotten
“Are you talking about y/n?” Heeseung asks curiously
“There's no way, I mean yeah she's like quiet and shit but she has some experience right?” Sunghoon adds
“I don't know man, but her and Gi became friends at the beginning of the school year, she's been over a few times. She's pretty chill.” Jay says
“So she doesn't have a boyfriend?” Jake asks, brow raising
“I thought you liked them experienced Jake? You fuck with little virgins now or what?” Heeseung says smirking
“I mean she’s cute, nothing wrong with teaching her a thing or two” Jake says with a knowing look on his face
“She doesn't really talk to guys though–like at all. Gi always complains that she’s too busy studying. But she's hella smart, tutoring and shit-”
“Wait, she tutors?” Jake's ears perk up at that
“Yeah she came over to help Gigi with chem the other day.” Jay says casually, like he didn't just give him the golden ticket to your personal space
“Are you serious?” Sunghoon says looking at him
Heeseung glances between the two, picking up what they're hinting at. “It's kinda risky, I mean girls like that- they aren't like, easy you know? Plus you're literally one of the smartest on the team.”
“You think she's actually gonna be interested though?” Jay asks
“I bet she'll see through that shit the first tutoring lesson honestly” Sunghoon says, making Heeseung laugh
“You think I only pull the easy ones?” Jake watching the both of them
“Thats all you’ve done this whole time-” Heeseung starts
“Alright bet.” Jake says, making the three of them pause
“Bet?”
“Yeah, I'll get her to fall for me.” Jake says confidently
“Yeah right” Heeseung adds
“Shit- I mean what about Clara though?” Sunghoon asks
“What about her? Im not fucking her anymore”
“You realise the shit she's gonna give y/n if you actually go through with that?” Jay says
“You’re basically setting her up for failure, Claras fucking crazy.” Heeseung says
“I still dont know why you decided to fuck her in the first place” he adds
“Probably because of her personality.” Jay says through a laugh
“Nah fuck her, she wont mess with y/n like that, shes not that desperate.” Jake says, but deep down he doesn't know if it's 100% true. Is he really setting you up for failure with this?
He's pulled from his thoughts when you come walking out of the movie room, coincidentally.
He only saw you sitting down, but now he's taking you in fully. Hoodie, shorts, fluffy…cat socks.
You pause when you see them all staring at you before awkwardly smiling and going to the kitchen to grab more popcorn.
Lyla and Gigi sent you out because they got it last time, but that's when there wasn't a group of guys you hardly knew in the living room.
Jay nudges Jake's shoulder before glancing to the kitchen, hesitating a beat before standing up and walking over.
You're looking through the five different popcorn options, who even needs that much popcorn anyway.
He watches as you choose the ‘extra butter’ one before speaking “Good choice” He says, walking further into the kitchen
“Oh- um thanks, it's the best one” You say, opening the microwave to put the popcorn in, he looks down at your legs, then back at your face when you turn around
“Y/n right?” He says, watching your face
“Yeah, I know who you are already though.” fingers toying with the end of your hoodie
“Oh? You've been to a game?” He says, taking a step closer
“No- I mean, I don't really watch football like that or anything- or sports” You say, looking back at how much time is on the popcorn, 50 seconds.
50 more seconds of this extremely weird interaction between you and one of the most popular guys in school.
He notices, he doesn't like that. “Y’know we have the same 3rd block.”
“Oh- AP Anatomy & Physiology?" You ask, but you know exactly what he's talking about, how could you not. He’s the 9th one to arrive in class everyday, everyone swarms his desk like a bunch of baby ducks just to talk to him.
“Yeah, I sit in the third row-” He's pauses when the beep of the microwave interrupts him, you silently thank the universe before pulling the popcorn out and mumbling something like “enjoy your movie” before practically running back to the movie room, leaving Jake confused, but also intrigued, most girls fall to their knees the second he gets within a 5 feet radius, so why did you just run away..
He walks back to the living room, sitting down, “Told you, easy ones only” Heeseung says through a laugh
୨♡୧
You're the first person to walk into AP Anatomy & Physiolgy on Monday, as always. You take your usual assigned, unassigned seat in the back row by the window, unpacking your bag, getting settled.
Your teacher walks in shortly after, she’s gotten used to you being here first. “Y/n” she says over the silence “Yes?”
“Are you okay with talking about how you're offering tutoring?” setting her own stuff down
"I'll have you do it at the end of class.” she adds. “Oh- yeah, I printed flyers for it too.” You say, and she smiles.
The students slowly file in, your eyes flick up to the door when the 9th person comes in. Jake.
The second he walks in his eyes are on you, you don't know why you feel hot all the sudden, like someone turned up the heater when he looks at you
Barely having any time to take in his outfit, you tap your pen on your paper, hoodie and jeans maybe?
You stop when you see the familiar frame take a seat next to you- Why is Jake sitting next to you, does he not always sit in the third row- You don't look at him, instead looking down at his shoe in your peripheral vision, because it would be weird to look at him. Even if you do feel his eyes on you.
The class flies by, you write down whatever your teacher puts on the board, trying not to be distracted by the noticeable presence beside you, if he had an aura around him, it would be clashing into yours because this whole time you've been weirdly affected by his close proximity.
“..And y/n has something to say as well.” Your teacher says, pulling you from your thoughts,you watch as everyone's heads turns to you before you stand up and walk to the front, clearing your throat
“Hi- im offering tutoring for anyone who needs extra help, any subject, um- here are the flyers if you're interested.” you say quickly before placing them on the teachers desk and walking back to your seat.
There's nothing you hate more than public speaking like that, you try to subtly calm your breathing. Jakes eyes are focused on you the whole time.
As soon as the bell rings you’re practically already out the door, Jake watches you stand up abruptly and rush out before he goes to the teachers desk to grab one of the flyers.
୨♡୧
“I don't know- she didn't even spare me a glance, like at all.” Jake says, setting his bag down on the bench in the locker room
“I told you, she doesn't talk to guys like that” Jay mutters, tying his shoe
“Pretty boy lost his charm huh?” Heeseung chuckles, shutting the door behind him
“Not completely” Jake says, pulling out your tutoring flyer from his bag
“You sneaky motherfucker-” Sunghoon eyes him, grabbing the paper from his hands
“Holy shit- you're actually going through with that?” Heeseung looks over Sunghoon's shoulder
“Just to prove a point?” Sunghoon asks
Jake doesn’t have time to reply before the Coach comes in, yelling at them to ‘get the fuck out the locker room’
୨♡୧
As soon as you get home, you pause when you see a suitcase by the door. “Oh y/n- took you long enough, you remember Chris right?” She say’s coming out of her room with a duffel bag
“The guy you went on a date with?” You ask, seting your backpack down
“Yeah, the rich one” She says with a smirk
“Anyways, he’s taking me to Boston for a trip!” She says excitingly
“Boston- what? Didnt you just meet him though?” You ask, brow raising in confusion
“I think he might be the one” She says smiling, the same smile she’s put on every time she says that.
“Um- well how long?” you ask, trying to register this whole thing
“Hmm- like 2 and half weeks-”
“2 and a half?! Mom- what the hell?”
“Calm down, I hate when you get like this y/n.” She says, putting her duffel bag on her shoulder
“Theres money for food, and whatever you need on the counter. It's not like I'm leaving you here to starve.”
“But-”
“Shit- I gotta go, ill call you when we land okay?” She says, giving you an awkward side hug before rushing out, leaving you confused as ever. This is what always happens though so you don't know why you're confused. She’s probably just doing it for the money anyway. Marry a rich man, use him to provide for us. It's pathetic.
The time was 9:46 when you receive the message. A number you don't know, you click on it
Unknown: Hey, Is this y/n?
You: Who is this?
Unknown: I got this number from your tutoring flyers
sitting up, this is the first person to actually text you about that
You: Oh yeah, what subject do you need help with?
Unknown: AP Anatomy & Physiology
You: Okay perfect, I have an A in that class so I can definitely help
You get your notebook out and a pencil
You: How soon do you want to start? And what's your first and last name
Unknown: Can we start tomorrow? I have practice everyday except Tuesdays
Practice? No way. You feel your heart beat pick up, This cant be–
Unknown: First names Jake, last names Sim.
The Jake Sim is texting you, about.. Tutoring. Is he not one of the top students though? You take a deep breath before typing back a reply
You: Okay, Tomorrow works. Does after school in the library work for you?
Jake Sim: Yeah im good with that
Jake Sim: I’ll see you tomorrow y/n
You shut your phone off, trying to ignore the way your palms are sweating a little too much right now, who even uses peoples names like that in messages?
Jake smiles down at his phone before swiping out of the chat.
୨♡୧
You're early. You're also early everywhere you go. You already set up your computer, and notebook with his name at the top, even after you erased it 3 times.
He walks in, you notice immediately, looking up from your paper, his hair is framing his face, no glasses today. White shirt with jeans. He smiles before sitting down across from you, you smile back, trying to seem less awkward.
You try to remind yourself, this is a mere tutoring lesson, so you'll act like it.
“So I just need to know what you're struggling on before we actually get into the teaching stuff.” you say looking at him, his eye contact is intense, it's hard to hold it.
He pulls out his own notebook
“Mainly muscle contractions,heart anatomy, and” He pauses before looking up at you “-Hormones.” You hesitate a beat before writing that down under his name. He notices.
“Okay, I can work with this- is there anything specific you don't understand? Is it a focusing thing?” You ask, genuinely concerned “I actually pulled up your average and you seem to be doing fine-”
“It's my memory” He says quickly “I have a hard time understanding, when the teacher talks it doesn't really comprehend well.”
“Oh- that's completely normal, are you more hands on?” You ask
He smirks “And visual.”
You look like you're actually deep in thought “Okay so, we would need to do more interactive studying, makes sense.” You say writing more stuff down
He watches you, the way your brows furrow in thought.
“Are you going to the game next Friday?” He says, your eyes flick up to him, confused at the sudden question
“I don't really go to football games or anything- Thats more Lyla and Gigi” You say, eyes traveling down for a split second when his tongue wets his bottom lip
“You should come” He says casually, like time has no affect on him
“We really should stay on task“
“If I pass the test next week will you come?”
Your caught off guard by the question, his heavy gaze on you making it worse
“Um- I’ll think about it” You say before writing more stuff down, he smiles slightly
୨♡୧
The next week goes by quickly, thankfully. Your mom has only called once, claiming she forgot to say she landed, even if it was a day later.
Home is lonely, its quiet but its good for studying. Your thoughts drift to Gigis family sometimes, even though her and her brother argue half the time, at least she has someone.
You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear your name being called, not by the familiar voice of your friends but by..Jake?
Lyla and Gigi both look behind you, eye brows raised as he comes closer, standing infront of your table in the cafeteria
You watch the way people look at him, the heads turning to you, the attention—it’s too much
“Y/n” He says looking down at you
“I might be a little late for tutoring today, coach wants to talk to us about the game.” He says, making Lyla and Gigi’s eyes flick between you two
“Um- Okay, But you couldn’t have messaged me that?” you say, trying to ignore the gazes on you from people you’ve never spoken to in your life.
“I mean you were already here so-“
“Yeah just text me next time okay?” You say, avoiding eye contact
He looks over at his friends, watching their snickers. Oh hell no.
You think he’s going to walk away by now but he sits down, right next to you. That makes Lyla's jaw practically drop
“Why? You don’t like talking to me?” He says, watching you intently
“I never said that- you just cause a lot of..attention.” You say, looking around before looking at him
“You don’t like attention?”
“Not from this many people.” You say standing up, grabbing your bag
“Where are you going-“
“I have to go.” You mumble before putting your bag over your shoulder and walking out the cafeteria, not looking back because you know if you do, everyones eyes will be on you.
As soon as the doors shut behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“Really?” Gigi asks, watching Jakes confused face
“You realize you’re like a magnet for attention right?” Lyla says
“And there’s nothing she hates more then that.”
“I was just asking her about tutoring.” Jake says, standing up to walk back to his friends
“Nice job man, you really do still got it huh?” Heeseung says through a smirk, making the others stifle their laughs
“Should’ve put money on it” Sunghoon adds, earning a glare from Jake
୨♡୧
Jake came in late like he said, 15 minutes to be exact. He looked out of breath, like he ran here.
The tutoring session was fine, you kept that professional exterior even if you were trying not to feel embarrassed about earlier, thankfully he didn't bring it up.
“Aren't hormones just when you're horny?” He asks, pencil raised above his paper, looking at you
You pause “Did you really just ask me that-” You didn't mean to say it out loud but you did, it makes him let out a chuckle, he bites his lip, something he does often, a little too often. To the point where you can't help your eyes follow when he does it.
“Okay um, let me think of how to word this” you say, looking down at your paper before back up at him “It’s not just what makes you- ‘horny’ but I guess that could be a way to describe it, a more..scientifical word is Steroid Hormones..”
He watches you talk, even if what your saying is hardly registering to him, because not only are you talking to him about sex hormones or whatever it is, but you're not wearing the same knit sweater you had on earlier, you must have taken it off, because he cant pull his eyes away from the way your tits look in that tank top-
“Jake?” Your voice cuts through his thoughts, his eyes find yours again.
“How are you supposed to pass this test when you can’t even focus?” You ask, completely unaware of how he was just looking at you
“Shit- sorry, what were you saying” He says a little bit more nervously than he intended, why is he so damn nervous, why do you even make him nervous?
“Hm, you need something to do with your hands.” You say casually, taking him by surprise
His mind races with what you mean, please, please ask him to finger you.
He pauses when you pull out a rubix cube, a fucking rubix cube and hand it to him- what the fuck is he supposed to do with this shit?
“You said you were more hands on, one of the other students I tutor is also like that. Whenever she uses that, it's like she’s more focused, you should try it.” You say smiling, encouraging.
He doesn't know why he feels relieved when he hears the word ‘she’, but he does.
He takes the object from your hand, fidgeting with it for a few seconds before you continue
The rest of the lesson is smooth, who knew a rubix cube would actually work. You try to stay focused yourself though.
The constant bounce of your leg to settle whatever your feeling when you watch the way his fingers work the object in his hand, it should be illegal to have that many veins in the first place.
Later that night, in one of your moments where you give yourself a break from studying.
Heating up the leftover pasta you made the other night, you get a text. Your body reacts before your mind does, heartbeat picking up
Jake Sim: I tried the practice test thing you showed me earlier
Jake Sim: Got a 100%
You smile, when he sends a picture of his laptop, the score on it saying just that
You: Good job
He frowns at his phone, that's all? No titty pic as a reward?
Jake Sim: Guess I'll be seeing you at Friday's game then :)
You: Well see if your studying shows then
Jake Sim: I'll make sure it does
୨♡୧
“Y/N!” you hear Jake yell after you, you stop to turn around, seeing him walking up to you, leaving Heeseung and Jay’s side as he comes into step beside you.
You’re still not used to the pointed looks you get from the people around you, but you're training yourself to pretend they aren't there.
Heeseung and Jay watch as Jake rushes to you like a damn puppy, looking at each other.
He hands you a paper, you take it looking down at the big 100% on the top “You actually did it!” You say smiling, before looking up at him beside you
He puts a hand on his chest, with a fake gasp “And to think you doubted me” He stops at the cafeteria door, pulling you aside before you walk in, facing you away from the people who keep looking at you. The nosy motherfuckers who can’t help but take attention to you ever since he’s became—friends? With you.
“So you'll come to the game then right?” He asks, doing that thing where he bites his lip
“Thats what we agreed on, plus Lyla and Gigi are going too” You say, watching the way his eyes light up
The last few people file in the cafeteria, leaving you and him alone.
“Y’know what the theme is right?” He asks, and this time you're genuinely caught off guard- theme? He notices your confusion right away
“Every game has a theme, pretty sure this one’s western, like cowboys and shit” He says watching your face, the way your eyebrows knit in uncertainty
“Lyla and Gigi didn't tell you?”, you shake your head softly
“Im surprised- they always go like all out for the themes” He says through a quiet laugh
Great. That only means they are going to make you go all out too.
You both pause when the final bell rings, walking in to the cafeteria like its the most normal thing, your steps falter when you feel the eyes on you, you look at your friends before glancing at Jakes group- why are they all staring at you-
“I’ll see you later y/n” He smiles before walking to his table, you sit down in front of Lyla and Gigi who are both looking at you knowingly
“What?” you say through an awkward laugh
“You know damn well what” Lyla says through a smirk
“Tutoring my ass” Gigi adds back
“Girl I do not look at my tutor like that” Lyla says, holding back a laugh
“Like what-?”
“Like I want to eat him the fuck up- because thats how The Jake sim was just looking at your ass-” You almost choke on your water, making her and Gigi laugh
You look down at the table to hide your blush “Well, you guys also didnt tell me there was a theme at the game.” You say, crossing your arms
“Okay when was the last time you checked the group chat y/n” Gigi asks, you pull out your phone
“This morning..” You say scrolling through the message thread
Lyla: Okay so what are we wearing tn
Gigi: Themes cowboy right?
Gigi: You know how much my mom and dad LOVE that costume shit
Gigi: I have so much stuff for it at my house
Lyla: Wow gigi inviting us over
Gigi: I can take u guys home after school
Lyla: YES
Lyla: We have to look GOOD, especially you y/n
Lyla: For you know
Gigi: Jake
Lyla: Okay shes probs not even on her phone
You swipe out, just to see if your mom said anything, you click on the messages to see a sunset picture and city buildings, typical.
“So, can you come?” Lyla asks
“Yeah sure- but we don’t have to go all out right?”
They look at each other before looking at you, the smile on their faces tells you everything you need to know
୨♡୧
“This feels like a lot..” You say looking at your outfit in her bedroom mirror
“No y/n- you look like, hot.” Lyla says, choosing one of the 7 cowboy hats Gigi brought out
“This is the final touch” She says before putting it on your head
This is quite literally the opposite of you, completely. It’s something you would never wear if it weren't for them, you wonder what your old self before you transferred schools would think. From the white fitted shirt, to the jean skirt, down to the—cowboy boots..
You adjust the red bandana on your neck so its not choking you uncomfortably
Gigi watches your worried face “I promise the others will be doing 10x more than us.” She reassures you, you look at them in the mirror, Lyla's shorts that hug her curves, Gigi’s shirt that compliments her body perfectly.
This feels very..them. You can't help but feel like an outsider trying to fit in.
“Jake will love it” Lyla says, hiding her smirk
“What- Jake?” The thought of Jake seeing you in this makes you nervous..but also exited? What would he think, would he expect you to wear this?
You're pulled from your thoughts when the man himself sends you a message
Jake Sim: Hey y/n were gonna grab food after the game
Jake Sim: Wanna come?
Jake Sim: Lyla and Gigi can come to
Jake Sim: I already told Jay not to bitch abt it lol
Your fingers hover over the screen
"Quadruple text is crazy” Lyla says through a smile
Gigi peaks over your shoulder “I do not want to hang out with my brother for fun.” She says, rolling her eyes
“Come on Gi! The others will be there too and! Heeseung’s fine ass” Lyla says, looking in the mirror to adjust her push up bra
Gigi just puts on her boots with a shrug
“Y/n say yes please!” Lyla says, practically jumping up and down
“Fine- fine”
You: Yeah sure.
“Um- Thats all?” Lyla asks
“What do you mean?”
“I don't know, maybe say something like ‘I'm so excited!’ or ‘good luck!- you know what just give me the phone.” Lyla says snatching it from your hand and sending a message
You: Good luck Jakey! I'll be cheering you on! ;)
“What the hell- is there a way to delete this, how do I-”
“Really Ly? He’s gonna know thats not y/n, she like never uses emojis” Gigi says cringing
“Maybe if he wins he'll give you good dick?” Lyla says shrugging
Your face goes red, this topic, talking about him-
Jake Sim: Haha thanks y/n :)
“See, completely normal!” Lylas practically beaming
“Yeah so that definitely wasn't her” Jake says putting on his cleats
“Jakey? Really?” Sunghoon mimicks
“I wouldn’t doubt if Lyla took her phone honestly.” Jay mutters
“Lyla's coming right?” Heeseung asks, putting on his jersey
His friends look at him “Why?”
“I mean shes hot as fuck dude, plus she totally looks at me all the time” He adds, fixing his hair in the locker mirror
“Yeah she's coming” Jake says, looking back down at the messages
୨♡୧
When you, Gigi, and Lyla get to the game a little earlier, they were not joking about people going all out. Compared to everyone else, your outfit was tame to say the least.
You three find a spot in the bleachers, your eyes scanning the field for one specific person.
You watch him, he’s drinking water on the side right now- his helmet is in his other hand, how can someone look so good drinking water.
You watch as Heeseung nudges Jake's shoulder beside him, and then Jake's eyes are on you
“Holy fuck” He says to Heeseung
You cant see what they’re saying
“I mean she looks like a cowboys wet dream” Heeseung says, smirking
Jake gives him a pointed look, before turning back to you, the distance is good enough for him to see the way your skirt clings to your legs, and how good that shirt looks on you, Fuck.
He waves at you, you look behind to see if it was someone else but there's no one behind you yet, you turn back to see him smiling at you before offering a small wave back
Lyla and Gigi are both watching from beside you, eyes flicking between you and Jake
You watch as Heeseung yells at him, and as he puts his helmet on before running over to him, a smile that wont go away ever since he saw you plastered on his face
“You sure you're not just doing this for the love of the game” Heeseung says, putting in his mouth guard
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A statement that might be right. Because this doesn't feel like some childish bet anymore.
The first half of them game goes well, you dont really understand much. But from the way Lyla, Gigi, and the rest of the students are cheering, thats definitely a good sign. “Im going to get water, do you guys want any?” you say, stepping off the bleachers
“Yeah- soda?” Lyla says, before looking back at the field where a very sweaty heeseung is spraying water in his mouth
You nod before walking to the concessions, the line isn't too bad, so you just pull out your phone to scroll, when two girls come behind you, you wouldn't care normally but its what they're talking about that makes your hand pause over your screen
“I mean he hasn't even looked at me this whole time, which is crazy because not even a month ago he had me sucking his dick!” One of the girls says, you look down to see pink cowboy boots
“His very big dick” Her friend says
“Ridiculously big. Fuck I miss it im not gonna lie.”
“Isn’t he fucking with a new girl now though?” You hear her friend say, you watch as the person in front of you takes way too long to order
“Yeah some nerd ass bitch, teachers pet apparently”
“I don't know Clara, she's like hella smart”
You shut your eyes for a second, Clara, you recognize that name. That's the same girl who yelled at Jake in the cafeteria that one time
“I don't care how smart she is, that's literally my man”
“Girl- he literally dropped your ass in front of the whole cafeteria..”
Your attention is brought back when it's your turn to order, you pay for the drinks before going back, doing your best to avoid turning around.
“Y/n?” Lyla says, when you hand her the sprite
“You look like you've seen a ghost, are you good?” Gigi asks, concern laced in her tone
“Yeah im good” You say offering a tight smile, the bandana on your neck suddenly feeling too tight.
It feels like someone has their hand around your heart, squeezing it, because why did hearing those things make you feel this way– Why is Jake even talking to you? Why did he even invite you in the first place?
You watch as the starting players go back on the field, but your mind can't focus when all these questions are flooding in. What does someone like him even want with you.
୨♡୧
You look down at your phone
Jake Sim: Hey me and the guys will be out in 5 mins
You read the message, before putting your phone in the pocket of your skirt, people are still hanging around, the players usually shower after a game apparently.
Exactly 5 minutes later Jake comes out, jeans, and a black zip up hoodie with a white shirt underneath, his bag is on his shoulder, his hair is still wet from the shower, and you cant help the heat that goes to your face when he waves to you.
You look past him to see the rest of his friends coming out behind him, you see Heeseung whisper something in Jake's ear that makes him roll his eyes.
“Good job- you were great out there” You say, fixing the cowboy hat on your head
“I had good motivation” He says, eyes on your face before they drift to your clothes, finally seeing you up close like this.
“Alright can we go now? Im hungry as fuck.” Jay says, interrupting the moment
You turn to Lyla, who's talking to Heeseung, then to Gigi who shrugs
“Y/n, I can drive us” Jake says, bringing your attention back to him
“Oh its fine I dont-”
“That's a great Idea!” Lyla says a little too loud, making everyone's eyes go to her
“Theres not enough room in Gigi's car for all of us anyway, so it works out” She adds, calculating smile plastered on her face, she ignores the pointed look you give her
“Alright yeah whatever can we just go now before I die of starvation” Jay says, making Gigi roll her eyes “fat ass.” She mutters before walking to her car
“You did not just call me a fat ass Gi- Weren’t you the one who ate all the fucking leftovers-” You and Jake watch them walk to the car, before you and him walk to his.
You curse Lyla for leaving you with him like this- when he smells so good and his hair is wet, and his hands-
“You look really pretty,” He says, putting his bag in the trunk before opening the passenger door for you. “Thank you-” You reply back quietly, trying to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest.
But how many other girls has he said that too- that girl Clara?
He gets in the Drivers seat, and starts the car, watching the way you look out the window. Immediately noticing the way you shift
“So, for the first football game you went to, how was it?” he says pulling out of the parking lot
You turn slightly to look at him, the way his face concentrates on the rode, but also managing to talk to you “It was fun” You smile before looking back out the window
“Did you get anything from the concessions? I heard they added slushies and stuff.” He says, tapping his finger on the steering wheel, trying to seem unbothered by the way your energy shifted the second you stepped foot in his car
The mention of drinks has your mind going back to the conversation you heard earlier, what if those girls had knew you where the one they were talking about–
“Yeah just some, um..water and stuff” You say, trying to avoid the way his eyes are pinned on your head
4 minutes of silence pass, except for the low music playing from the speakers, and the car's engine.
“Is everything good?” He asks, eyes flicking between you and the road ahead
“What– yeah of course, why wouldn't it be.” You say quickly, fingers toying with the hem of your jean skirt.
He doesn't buy it.
Your brows furrow in confusion when he pulls over, looking at him as he puts the car and park “What are you doing-”
“Tell me what's wrong” he says, hand still on the steering wheel, but eyes on you
“Nothing's wrong?” You feel that familiar heaviness on your chest
“Y/n. you can't even look at me, did I do something?” He asks, knuckles white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel
“You can tell me whatever it is-”
“Why do you talk to me?” You ask, finally looking at him
“I..I just don't understand– all the sudden it goes from you not even looking at me, and then you're asking to be tutored by me, and then you invite me to your game, and then im in your car-” you continue, your heart beat rising with how much words you're saying in one breath. He doesn't interrupt you.
“And I really didn't think you needed to be tutored, honestly, you're one of the top students in our class- no, in our grade. But I did anyway, it honestly just feels like you pity me. Because why would someone like you want to be friends with someone like me– It just doesn't make any sense.” You stop, breathing in heavy breathes, too aware of how close he is right now, how he's looking at you.
“I don't pity you y/n. I like spending time with you.” He says, watching your face
“Fuck- I mean, I took the flyer and the tutoring because I wanted to spend that time with you- whenever I tried to talk to you any other way you just– blew me off?” He says, contemplating his words
He looks down at his hands before back up at you, noticing the way your features slightly soften
He lifts his hand to take the hat off your head, so he can fully see your face
“Why would someone like me want to be friends with you?” He repeats your question, you didn't realise how close you two got, faces nearly an inch away from each other
“I don't want to be friends y/n. I want more than that–I fucking crave more than that” His gaze drops to your lips, a silent question
“Jake-” You whisper out before he presses his lips to yours,you instantly melt at the contact, your hand finds the collar of his shirt, attempting to tug him closer over the center console, his hand holds the back of your head, threading his finger in your hair, he moves his lips against yours, slowly, testing, you follow his lead, letting go instead of taking control. He feels the way you let him, unable to hold the small groan that travels its way to your mouth through the kiss.
You pull back, breathing hard, opening your eyes to look at him, his lips have a slight shine from your saliva, he licks them before looking into your eyes.
You don't know what you're doing, you've never even done anything like this before, but the way he’s looking at you, like you absolutely wrecked him gives you a new found confidence.
You sit up, before moving to get over the center console, he just watches you as you settle on his lap, his hands immediately resting on your waist “y/n-”
“just kiss me” You say, and he doesnt hesitate before pressing his lips against yours, this time its lessed controlled, he doesnt hold himself back.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, his hands are touching everywhere, sliding up and down your back, before cupping your ass in his hands making you gasp into his mouth, he swallows that down, tongue running over your bottom lip.
You feel the heat pooling between your legs, shifting slightly, which makes him let out a broken sound before looking down, the way your skirt is riding up, how you’re sitting right on his hardening cock, he looks back at your face, kissing the corner of your mouth before he pulls you on him more, the friction making you let out a quiet sound– he needs to fucking hear it again, and you need to feel it again.
It starts off slow, testing, in the way you roll your hips on him, you watch him throw his head back “Fuck, baby-” You grind down a little harder, in response to the name, he rolls his hips with you, the seam of his jeans catching your clit just right through your underwear, enough to make you let out small sounds that has his eyes rolling
He leans in to kiss you again, hands splayed on your ass to pull you impossibly closer, the kiss is desperate, frantic, tongues moving together in a rhythm like you were made for each other, there's no leader, no follower, this is just- the two of you.
“J-jake–” you let out, biting your lip when he grinds up, hitting the perfect spot, hes pulling you against him, controlling the way your hips move, fingers digging into the soft flesh through your skirt, He slides his hand underneath the denim fabric, to really feel you, groaning into your mouth at how warm and soft you are in his hands.
“You’re going to kill me-” You both freeze when a loud ringtone comes from his phone.
“Shit- I forgot about the plans” he says, looking at his phone
Jay: Dude where the hell are you
Jay: Im srsly abt to order with out you
Sunghoon: we got u and y/n waters
Jay: -Missed call-
“We should probably-”
“Yeah”
The warmth of your body is removed like a flash when you sit back down in the passenger seat, fixing your skirt, he tries to ignore the way his dick is throbbing in his jeans right now. Instead he watches you, the flush on your cheeks, the small smile that's barely noticeable
“What?” You say through a chuckle, noticing his stare
“Im just really lucky” He says, before putting the car into drive and getting back on the road, even when you two get out of the car, walking into the restaurant, you’re still thinking about what he said.
Because no one has ever told you they were lucky to have you.
୨♡୧
The next week of school is fun, and easy. You still decide to tutor Jake, because he said it really helped him.
Even if it did lead to small kisses, you definitely weren't complaining. People still look at you two when you walk together in the hallway, he even invited you to sit with him in the caferitria with his friendgroup, they are actually really nice to you.
The best part is seeing Gigi and Jay argue, it's like having your own show to watch while you eat
You don't miss the way Heeseung and Lyla look at each other, or when coincidentally the both of them are late for lunch.
Under the table, Jake's hand is splayed across your thigh, everytime he laughs he squeezes it slightly, which makes you try and close them, but he notices. He notices everything when it comes to you.
“..And not to mention Gigi’s parents bought the good ice cream” Lyla says, practically about to burst from excitement
“Okay so it's like a pool party then?” Sunghoon says, raising his eyebrow
“Well, just like with us though.” Gigi says
“Im not trying to have half the school trash the house, especially when mom and dad get back tomorrow.” She adds, you watch Jay nod
“Im in” Heeseung says, turning to watch Lyla “Perfect! What about you and Jake?” She says turning to you both
“Yeah im down” he smiles before looking at you
“Um- Ill have to check, but ill text you when I get home” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear
“Okay, perfect!” She squeals
“Just come over any time after school then” Jay says
You nod before glancing down at your phone, re reading the message from your mom
Mom: Me and Chris decided to stay a little longer, you have enough money for food still right?
Jake watches you “Are you okay?” he says, quietly so no one else can hear
“Oh yeah- im fine” You say, putting your phone down and smiling
୨♡୧
“I can't do this.” You say as soon as you close Gigi’s bedroom door behind you
They both look at you as you pull out the bathing suit from your tote bag, you watch Gigi cover her mouth to stifle a laugh
“You can’t be serious” Lyla says, standing up to take the middle school one piece swimsuit from your hands
“This thing is hideous” She holds it up in the air
“Im not one to judge but you absolutely cannot wear that y/n” Gigi says, standing up to look at it closer
You bury your face in your hands, sitting down on her bed
“I brought like 5 different bathing suits, plus Gigi has a shit ton, and you are most definitely borrowing one.” Lyla says, emptying her bag on the bed, you glance at the small strings, and shapes before looking up at her
“What? I wanted to bring my slutty ones, I thought Heeseung would like them” She says smiling proudly
“And im sure jake will” She adds, wiggling her eyebrows
“You’re so ridiculous Ly” Gigi mutters before tying her hair in a bun
You pick up a red triangle bikini top, and Lyla nods
“Good choice, these are the bottoms” She says, holding them up
“These are bottoms? Like swimming bottoms?” you say, taking them from her hand
“Yup! Just try it on at least” She smiles sweetly, waiting for your approval, you nod
“Come downstairs when you’re done okay?” Gigi says, opening her bedroom door.
You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, The bathing suit fits well, it's just..small. Like if you make one wrong move you'll definitely flash someone. You turn around to see how it looks from the back, not completely terrible- just a bit cheeky?
You think Jake might like it, not to mention the fact that you chose the red one because he mentioned he liked that color.
You pause when you hear the sound of male voices, they must be here. You take one last look at yourself before opening the door and almost getting knocked to your ass when you collide with something hard
“Shit- y/n?” You look up, Jake–Your eyes take in his form, the swim trunks, the white tank top perfectly stretched across his chest. His hair, messy, yet perfectly styled, before looking at his face. He’s smiling down at you
You're suddenly aware that you're practically half naked in front of him, You weren't even planning on going in the water, except for your feet–you need to grab your shorts and put them on “I was just uh, I just need my shorts–”
His hand trails down your shoulder, grabbing your hand before placing it on his chest, over his heart, you feel the fast beats of it, almost in sync with how quick yours is "You're making me nervous” he whispers, he takes a step forward so he's in the bathroom with you, shutting the door behind him softly
He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, testing to see your reaction before he pulls back to look down at you, you put your hands on his shoulders before leaning to kiss him again, he reacts immediately, hands on you the second you touch him, his hand starts at your waist before moving down to cup your ass in his hand, you gasp at the feeling, he kneads the flesh in his hands, squeezing it while kissing you deeper “You look so fucking good baby” He says through heavy breaths, looking at your face
He moves until your pressed against the counter, before lifting you up on it, your legs spread slightly to make room for him, while keeping your lips on his.
The kiss is messy, desperate, his hands are on your hips, and you let out a muffled sound when he presses his hips against you, you feel it, the hardness of him against your thigh, you pull back to see the desperate look on his face, the way his cheeks are slightly red, his lips looking even more plump from your kisses
He takes his right hand from your waist, splaying it on your thigh, before he looks into your eyes, you nod.
You watch his hand inch higher, grazing your inner thigh, his finger tip brushes your core, making you shiver at the contact, he watches you intently before pressing his fingers against you, making you let out a shaken breath
Leaning in to brush his lips across your jaw, before slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of the bathing suit bottoms, finally feeling your warmth “Fuck, you’re so wet–” He says, looking down before kissing your neck, softly, reassuringly
He starts with small circles around your clit, testing to see what makes you feel good, your legs spread wider when he does small figure eights on your clit, hands braced on his shoulders as he presses open mouthed kisses to your neck, trailing up to your ear
His middle finger brushes your entrance, lightly, while his other hand comes up to move the hair out of your face
“Have you ever been fingered y/n?” He asks, voice low, watching the way your chest falls and rises, you shake your head “Do you want to be?” He says, biting his lip “Y-yes, I want you to, Jake” He presses his hard cock against your thigh, groaning at the permission
He connects his lips to yours, you let him in instantly, tongues dancing together before he slowly guides his finger in your entrance, “breathe baby, you're so tight” he whispers against your lips, you close your eyes when his finger goes deeper, making you let out a quiet moan, his single digit stays there, embraced by your warmth before he curls it slightly making you whimper in his mouth “Jake– “ you let out through a wispy breathe
He moves his thumb to circle around your clit, in lazy motions “can you take another, baby? It’ll feel even better” kissing your cheek softly, you nod and he pulls out his finger, before inserting two digits, making you let out a desperate sound at the stretch.
He kisses you, in attempt to quiet you down, before moving his fingers in and out of you, curling inside, rubbing your clit with practiced ease
Seeing you like this, overhwemled by the pleasure he’s bringing you could make him come right now.
“You’re so perfect baby- this pretty pussy’s taking my fingers so well” He whispers, the filthy things making you clench around his fingers, he adds more pressure to your sensitive bud, “j-jake im gonna-“
“You gonna come for me baby?” slightly picking up the pace his fingers are moving, fucking them in and out of you.
Your moans are only getting louder, he move his other hand to cover your mouth, muffling them so the others don't hear down stairs, he feels your hole fluttering around your fingers, so he moves them even faster, making it his life fucking goal to have you come from this
His eyes dont know what to focus on, switching from the way your tits slightly bounce, to the way his fingers disappear inside you, or to the way you’re looking at him, the dazed half lidded look, he presses against your clit just right, making you clench hard on his fingers as you ride your orgasm out, moaning into his hand, your juices coating his fingers and dripping out, he brings his hand back down from your mouth, watching the way your breathing slows, before pulling out his fingers, the loss of contact making you whimper with how sensitive you are
He brings his fingers up to his lips, locking eyes with you before putting them in his mouth, sucking your arousal off, the sight makes you let out a breathy sound, you can feel your pussy throbbing at the sight from exitement
You’re blushing from the filthy act, he brings his lips to yours capturing you in a kiss, you can slightly taste your arousal on his tounge “You’re so beautiful–” you both freeze when a knock on the bathroom door slices the moment in half
“Jake are you in there man? We’re trying to choose pizza toppings– the girls said they dont care whats on the pizza, they just went outside claming they didnt want to ‘waste tanning time’ I dont know-” jay rambles on
“Yeah im in here, ill be down in a sec” Jake says, forehead resting on yours before he pulls back
“Alright- and if you find y/n tell her to come down too” Jay adds
You and Jake listen to the sound of retreating footsteps
“We should probably go down there” he says, pulling back and helping you get off the counter
“Yeah i just need to get some shorts-” You watch as he pulls your bottoms back up, adjusting them before leaning down to press one more kiss to your lips
“I’ll see you in a few minutes” He says with that familiar smirk on his lips, before walking out and shutting the door behind him, he leans against it for a second, still trying to process what just happened, before adjusting his extremely hard cock in his bottoms, and making his way downstairs.
You look in the mirror, pressing your fingers against your lips, the feeling of him kissing you lingering. Your body is still burning from the aftermath of your orgasm. You fix your hair in the mirror, going back to Gigi’s room to put on your shorts
And finally making your way down the stairs, you pause halfway when you hear Heeseung's voice
“Who y/n?” You hear him say
“Who else dumbass?” Sunghoon replies
They're talking about you. instead of going downstairs you stay there, just to see what they're saying
“Have you told her?” Jay asks
“No–I can’t fucking tell her that”
“Yeah you’re cooked” heeseung says flatly
Cooked?
“I really like her, And not in some casual hook up way okay? I don’t know whats going on, and im confused because ive never felt this way before about someone–” Jake says, breathing hard
“Shit-” You hear his friends say
“I dont give a fuck about some dumb bet, it was stupid of me–”
Your heart drops. Bet? What does he mean by that?
“God- Why couldn't you just go after her like a normal person” jay says frustratingly
“You realise she’s gonna fucking hate you if you dont tell her” he adds
You walk further down the stairs, watching the way all four of them look at you
“W-what bet” You let out, hating yourself for stuttering
Jake's face drops in realization that you heard that, you don't even look at his friends, the ones who made you think they actually liked you. You just watch him. It was all just some play–
“What bet Jake?” you say again, trying to calm your heartbeat, as he walks over to you, reaching for your hand
You swat his hand away “dont fucking touch me” and he flinches at that, hardly visibly. But he does.
“Y/n-” He starts, you watch as the back porch door slides open, Gigi and Lyla walking in, with confused looks at the way everyone’s frozen in place, before their gazes fall on you
“Im going home. I- I can't do this” You say, suddenly too aware of how everyone is looking at you, unable to even look in Jake's eyes, you turn around for the front door, Jake calls your name again but you don't hear it.
Not over the sound of your heart, not over the ringing in your ears.
You can't speak when it feels like someone has a wire around your throat and you can't breathe.
You shut the front door behind you, sitting on the stairs immediately, trying to calm yourself, trying not to cry. You can't cry. Not here.
You don't look behind you when you hear the door open and shut, please don't be Jake.
“Y/n do you want me to drive you home?” you let out a relieved sigh when you hear Gigi’s voice, before standing up and nodding.
Gigi knows you, she knows you don't want to talk right now, so instead of pushing you, she turns up the music, looking at you every now and then as you stare out the window.
“You all can eat shit” Lyla says looking at the four boys in the kitchen
“Espeicially you Heeseung, for not fucking saying anything.” She says before looking at Jake
“Ly-” Heeseung starts watching Lyla walk over to Jake
“How could you do that to her? You’re fucking terrible.” She says before storming upstairs, leaving the four of them
“I need to do something- I need to call her” Jake says pulling out his phone, Jay stop his hand
“She needs space Jake.” He says, watching him as he lowers his phone
“Fuck.” Is all he says, because Fuck himself for being so stupid, fuck him for hurting you, fuck him for not telling you sooner, if anything he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.
But the least he can do is try.
୨♡୧
You cried as soon as you got home. You held it until Gigi drove off, she offered to stay but you never have people actually come inside.
Part of you regretted it, because you wish you had someone to hold you, even as you crumbled to the floor as soon as you shut the front door.
But you have no one. Not even you’re own mother, whose out with her new boyfriend, living her best life and leaving you in the past, like always.
Later that night you try and rememebr anything—how could you not see through it, of course it was some bet. He didnt mean anything he said to you, and you were stupid to think the most popular guy in the school wanted to ‘spend time with you’
Even as you shower, the memory of his hands on you not even 24 hours ago is still jarred in your mind, the reassuring touches, the praise.. But it was all just fake.
You couldnt sleep. For good reason. Every time you tried to close your eyes, your mind kept going back, trying to over analyze the situation, trying to think of an excuse.
It was 12:49 when you got the message
Jake sim: Y/n, im so sorry
Jake sim: Don’t shut me out
Jake sim: Please
Jake sim: Baby
Your press your hand to your chest, like it would stop the painful feeling in your heart.
You never answered him. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you finally fell asleep, you didn’t bother checking the time you did, because you knew you would just pity yourself.
୨♡୧
On Monday, you’re not the first one in class. Jake was. He sat in his seat next to yours, eyes flicking from your desk to the door, waiting for you to come in.
As soon as you walk in, he sits up straight, watching you walk, not towards the seat next to him but to some random one in the second row, where the guy who never shows up would sit.
He watches you take your stuff out of your bag, he looks down at the way your leg bounces, he hates himself because he knows he’s the reason you’re so fucking anxious right now.
The teacher talks like its any other day. Of course she would, she’s not going to stop the school day because he fucked up. When the bell rings you’re the first one out, he goes to call your name but stops when you rush out of the door.
“I almost beat Jay’s ass, like actually.” Gigi says before taking a bite of the cafeteria sandwhich
“Mom and dad nearly crashed out when they came home and saw I already was pulling his hair” She adds
“Can he stop fucking staring already” Lyla says, looking at you then at the table 3 rows behind where Jake was looking right at you
“Im going over there” Jake says to his friends
“Uh no dude- you’re fucking not” Sunghoon says, tugging him back down by his shoulder
Jake shrugs him off before getting up to walk over to you, ignoring the exaggerated sighs from his table
“Oh shit” Gigi mutters
“He’s like actively walking over here y/n” Lyla adds
You turn your head slightly to see him walking towards you, before standing up
“Im going to the bathroom.” You say, grabbing your bag and moving towards the door
Jakes steps falter when he watches you get up, he wants to yell at you, tell you to stop walking away from him so bad. But he knows that would make it worse. He doesn’t look at Lyla and Gigi before turning around and going back to his table.
His friends are silent when he sits down, the usual snickers, or comments don’t come.
You set your bag down by the sink, bracing your hands on it, looking in the mirror, “don’t cry, don’t cry” you whisper to yourself
“I mean I don’t get whats so fucking special about her, shes just like normal-“ You pause when you see two girls walk in, blonde, Clara.
“Well look who it is” She says walking further in, her friend beside her
“Jakes little slut” She coos, looking you up and down judgementally
“Im not-“ You start but she cuts you off
“I want you to stop talking to him.” she says, crossing her arms over her chest
“Clara-“ her friend starts
“No, this bitch needs to fuck off my man”
“You can have him.” You say, voice low
They look at each other confused
“I said you can have him.” you say, louder
“Just leave me alone.” you mutter, putting your bag over your shoulder
“The fuck-“ she starts when you walk past her before pulling you by your bag strap
She pulls your bag off your shoulder, making it fall to the ground with a thud, you don’t turn around.
You wait for the hit. Because you’re used to this, You close your eyes, tight. Trying to block off everything, when you hear Lyla
“What the fuck are you doing Clara?!” She yells, Gigi following in beside you
“Just teaching this bitch a lesson to not mess with my man-“
“Your man?” Gigi says with a scoff
“You need a fucking reality check because he does not want your ass” She adds, picking your bag up from the floor
Lyla comes infront of you “Y/n are you okay?” you nod, not because you’re okay, but because you have to be.
You block out the sound of them arguing, taking your bag from Gigi before walking out. Of course this would happen to you, and of course you’re running away.
୨♡୧
You dont talk about what happened the next day, they dont bring it up either.
They were laughing at something on Lylas phone when you got a text
Jake Sim: Are we still on for tutoring?
Jake Sim: In the library right?
You look back for a split second, over your shoulder to see him looking at you, his phone in his hand, you turn back around almost immediately, typing out a response, deleting it and typing it again
You: -Sent contact-
You: If you need tutoring so bad, he does Tuesdays too. Stop texting me.
You shut off your phone, putting it in your pocket, he watches.
Its like everything around him is silent. He cant fucking focus, coach even gave him shit for not doing good at practice yesterday. He tries to act normal, but the affect you have on him isn’t something that can go away.
“Earth to Jake” Heeseung snaps in his face to get his attention
“Motherfucker thinks he’s Jeff buckley” Sunghoon says through a snort
“Brought it on himself” Jay shrugs
“I need to get drunk” Jake says, running his hands through his hair, something hes been doing often lately
“And laid” Heeseung adds
“I can’t think about fucking another girl right now” He says, checking his phone again in hopes you sent a message
“I mean I heard Jungwon’s throwing a party after the game on Friday” Jay says, looking at the group
“Who’s going?” Jake asks
“Shit—if its Jungwon then probably half the school” Heeseung says, rubbing his jaw
“You know what, why not. The alcohol better not be shit” Jake says, making them laugh
୨♡୧
“Please y/n! We can come pick you up and everything, I know you’re not going to be doing anything either” Lyla says through the speakers of your phone
“Yeah, Fuck him, you deserve to go out, for once?” Gigi adds
“We know you’re not all that party type but just this once! Plus Jungwons house is nice as hell”
“I don’t know guys—What if he’s there?” you say worried, unlocking the front door to your house and shutting it behind you
“If he was going, Jay would have said something. I know they have a game tonight so I doubt they’re gonna wanna go to a party.” Gigi says, opening a bag of chips
“Okay but what am I supposed to wear?”
“Do you wanna get laid?” Lyla asks
“What—no”
“Im just kidding, wear that one black skirt I let you borrow and those low rise jeans”
“I never even wore it though-“
“Exactly why its perfect! Well come get you at 10, love you bye!” Layla says quickly before hanging up
You listen for Gigi, but all you hear is the faint sound of her arguing, presumably with Jay, before you hang up and set your phone on the counter.
You dont go to parties, ever. But here you are stepping out of your comfort zone, maybe its good that you’re. Maybe you need a change.
୨♡୧
“Oh hell no.” Gigi says once you all walk into the house, it's almost as big as hers, but you're not paying close attention to it because right now. instead you're watching Jake take down a shot in the kitchen.
It smells like cheap alcohol and sweat. The place is packed, you take your eyes off him and look around, you recognize faces you've seen around campus, and some you haven't
You watch as Gigi storms over to the kitchen to Jay “What the fuck are you doing here?” She asks Jay who looks at her like she has 2 heads “What am I doing here? Jungwon is my friend” He says back, you and Lyla walk over to the kitchen, following her.
You don't look at him. You can't look at him, but you can feel his eyes on you.
“I’ll tell mom and dad you ass-” Gigi starts
“Oh but that means they'll know you were here too” He says, faking a pout
“Shit” She replies, looking at you and Lyla
“Fine, truce.” She says, grabbing 3 red cups
You watch Jay hold out his hand, but she swats it away rolling her eyes before pouring whatever is in the bottles on the counter into the cups
“Drinks?” She says, handing you and Lyla the cups
“Please and Thank you, I need to find a hot guy to make out with” Lyla says taking the cup
“Im right here babe” Heeseung smirks, stepping closer to her
“Literally anyone but you” She says, walking away from the kitchen, you watch as he follows her
You hesitate a beat before taking the cup from her hand, Jake doesnt miss the way your eyes flick over to him for a split second
“Y/n can we-” He starts before a familiar obnoxious voice flows in the kitchen, Clara.
You watch as she walks in the kitchen, wearing practically nothing before she comes to his side, wrapping her arm around his.
“I think you have your hands full Jake.” You say before walking over to the living room with Gigi
“Get the fuck off me Clara” He says, moving his arm
Sunghoon and Jay both look at him with annoyed expressions on their faces
“Why Jakey? She said I can have you” Clara says, words slurred from the amount of alcohol she's consumed
“What?” He pushes her back, not to hurt, but enough for her to get off of him
He walks over to Gigi, glancing at Lyla and Heeseung who are practically eating each others faces on the other couch “Wheres y/n” He says, tone serious in a way that has Gigi sitting up
“Why-”
“Tell me where she is Gi, im not fucking around.” he says, watching Gigi point to the back porch
You turn around when you hear the door behind you open, leaning against the railing
“What are you-”
“Y/n- Fuck, please let me talk okay?” He says closing the door, the music and talking inside becoming a sound in the distance
“Jake, I can't right now” You say, looking down at your shoes as he walks over
“Please” His voice comes out slightly whiner than intended
“Baby, please look at me” He pleads, his composure gone. He’s done acting like he's okay with you avoiding him
You shake your head
He lets out a defeated sigh, you think he's going to walk away, give up.
You watch him lower himself to the ground getting on his knees just so you will look at him instead of the ground
“Y/n please listen to me” He looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowed together, his pupils are blown. He can’t believe hes actually fucking doing this.
When you don't say anything, the words spill out faster than he can catch up
“Im so sorry baby– Im an asshole and I hate myself for what I did, I should have just told you from the beginning about the bet-” he cringes at the word “-It was selfish of me and I understand why you don't even want to look at me, let alone talk to me.-“
“-But I like you, so fucking much, Ive never felt like this before, but you changed that for me. You’re smart, you’re fucking gorgeous, you’re too kind for your own good, and I want you so bad, I want you so fucking bad my chest hurts at the thought of not having you. Everything I said in the car that night was true. I like spending time with you and I don't want to be friends, because what I feel for you isn't friendship–” He stops, trying to catch his breath, looking up at you, searching your face for any reaction, any response
Your hand is shaking when it comes up to his face, slightly brushing his hair out of the way “I..” You close your eyes before opening them again, “I really like you too Jake. But you hurt me, I let you in and it feels like it was all just some trick.” You say, trying to hold the tears threatening to fall from your eyes
“No baby–It wasn't a trick, please, everything I said to you I meant it–” He leans forward resting his head on your stomach before looking back up at you
“Every touch, I meant it.” His hand comes up to hold your waist, before he stands up, looking down at you, placing his finger under your chin, before running his thumb along your bottom lip “Every word” His other hand pulls you closer to him “Every kiss.” He whispers, leaning down, lips grazing over yours “I meant it all.”
You're breathing against his mouth, hearts beating the same rapid pace “And I want it all–so bad, I want all of you y/n, I don't want you to hide from me, I don't want you to run” He says, cupping your face in his hands, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours
“Please-”
“I want it too Jake” You whisper
His eyes fly open, searching yours, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, taking you slightly by shock with how desperate it is, his left hand slides from your face down to your waist, holding you close, like you would slip away if he let go.
He pulls back, just to see the look on your face, a single string of saliva keeping you two connected before he kisses your neck, whispering small “im sorrys” as he trails his lips along your jaw, making you let out breathy sounds that have him weak.
He captures your lips in a kiss again, tongue exploring your mouth in the way he’s been dreaming about ever since you started avoiding him.
He feels his cock hardening, he remembers the way he fucked his fist at the thought of having you like this again.
“Fuck–” He breathes out, before biting your lip lightly, making you let out a small whimper. “I.. I need you baby, please” He says, bringing his hand down to softly caress your ass in your jeans, you bring your hand up to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt to kiss him again before he pulls back “Not here.” He whispers, voice low, looking into your eyes with such intensity it has your knees weak.
With the way you're looking at him right now, he wants to do it now.
But he’s not having sex with you at some dumbass house party. He can't help the smirk on his face when you whine as he pulls away, grabbing your hand and leading you back inside, you don't look at anyone except him, as he guides you through the crowd, his hand clasping tight in yours, until you reach his car.
“What street do you live on?” He asks, looking at you, before pulling out onto the road, you hesitate, he notices “Y/n, no hiding” He says, putting his hand on your thigh. “167 EN drive” you reply back quietly, part of you hoping he wouldn't hear. But you remind yourself of the words he said earlier, he wants all of you, he said he craves it. So that’s what he'll get.
You watch his face as he pulls in your drive way, looking at your house. You don't see the look of hesitance, or disappointment you were expecting.
Your anxiety boils down when he steps out of the car, and comes to your side to open your door for you. “You’re not disappointed or anything?” You ask, voice slightly shaky
“Dissapointed?” He asks, genuinely confused
“I mean, my mom just doesn't make a lot– I know its not a good area to live in either-”
“Y/n, do you think I'd judge you for something as small as where you live?” He asks, shutting the passenger side door
“I just thought-”
“No. I’d be a fool to think like that. Nothing you do could make me judge you, the idea of doing that in the first place disgusts me.” He says, hand rising to brush his thumb on the side of your face, waiting for you to invite him in. He wants you to, he wants the reassurance that you trust him.
You walk to the front door, grabbing the key hidden under the mat before unlocking it, and stepping inside. You cringe at the slightly peeled paint on the walls, but also thankful that having the house to yourself means it's actually clean for once. He shuts the door behind him, watching the way you look around, the insecurity showing in your body language. He turns you around to face him, pulling you close before tilting your face up.
You look between his eyes and his lips before leaning up slightly, your lips grazing over his, before he speaks “tell me how bad you want this, tell me you want it as much as I do” He whispers, even though no one can hear him but you.
“I want it Jake– I want it so bad, I just want you..” you breathe out, and he closes the small space instantly, the feeling of your heart beating, the thrill of his lips on yours will never get old.
He lets you guide him to your room, before shutting the door behind him, he pulls back looking down at you. The needy look on your face as you try to catch your breath.
The room is dimly lit, the moon is bright from the clear sky, illuminating you, allowing him to see every emotion that flashes across your face.
He steps closer to you, hand coming to your waist, his thumb making small circles near the hem. You nod, and he slowly lifts your shirt above your head, eyes dropping to your chest, he can't help himself when his hand comes up to cup your tit in his hand, kneading the soft flesh through your bra. “Youre so beautiful” He says, guiding you until you land on your bed, He follows, on top of you in a second, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, it’s careful, timeless.
You kiss him back, lips desperately grasping onto each other as his hand trails down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans, your breath hitches, he pauses looking down at you “can I take these off?” He asks, “y-yes” you manage to let out, not sure how you can even get out words when he has you like this.
He unbottons your jeans, sitting up to slide them down your legs, throwing them on the floor before looking at you, taking you in, trying to savor this in his memory.
He watches the way your legs close, stopping them with his hand "Don't hide from me.” He says, pushing them open, looking down at the way your underwear sticks to your pussy, biting his lip at the sight, you let out a soft whine at being exposed like this, because no one has ever seen you this way, this vulnerable.
He presses a kiss to your neck, “Have you thought about this before?” He asks, tongue flicking on a new found sensitive spot under your ear, you nod. He lets his hand trail down your body before cupping your clothed cunt in his hand, you let out a quiet moan at the contact.
“Did you touch yourself thinking about it?” He kisses the spot under your ear, pulling the honesty out of you.
Your mind goes back to that night he kissed you in the car, how you made yourself come on your fingers at the memory of his hands on you later that night– “yes.” You say, the honesty makes him smile against your neck
“Can you show me?” He whispers, sitting up again, watching the way you willingly trail your hand down your body, slipping your fingers inside the waistband of your panties to brush your soaking clit, closing your eyes.
You open them again when the bed shifts, watching Jake as he takes off his shirt tossing it on the floor beside your pants, before removing his own, you press harder on your clit when your eyes meet the bulge in his boxers, there's no way that's fitting in you. He watches your reaction, "I'll make sure you're ready for it baby” He says, palming himself. You slide your underwear off your legs, the fabric was making it hard to really touch yourself anyway.
Your hand slides back between your legs, circling your clit, the same way he did that time in the bathroom. “Fuck–” He hisses, squeezing his dick at the way your hand comes up to toy with your nipple through your bra.
You watch as he climbs back in between your legs, leaning down to kiss your lips, trailing down past your neck, leaving a trail of wet marks until his face is hardly an inch away from your pussy.
You move your hand to grip the sheets beneath you “Jake..” You watch as he looks up at you from in between your legs. He blows on your clit, watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing. He presses small kisses to your thigh, grazing over your sensitive bud with his plump lips. “You have no idea how bad I've wanted to do this” He says before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your soaking cunt, you let out a moan at the contact, hands flying up to touch his hair as he repeats the motion.
You didn't even know you could be this vocal, but with him, eating you out like a starved man, how could you not.
He flicks his tongue over your clit, practically drooling onto your pussy, before pressing soft kisses “Tastes so fucking good” He mumbles into you, the vibration making your hips buck, his hand come up to hold your stomach down, so you dont squirm as much.
You watch him, his eyes are closed, face expressing true pleasure, your juices coating the bottom half of his face.
He looks up at you, burying his nose in your pussy, letting the bridge of it pressure your throbbing clit before he sucks on it, mouth clasped around your pussy, flicking his tounge, swirling it, you tug his hair harder, but he doesnt care because this is just too fucking good.
“Oh my gosh-” You let out when his finger comes up to collect your juices seeping from your hole before inserting the single digit inside of you, the sound of your pussy squelching, and him groaning into you has your back arches off the bed when he curls his finger, his tongue flicking over your clit, before he adds another, you've never felt this good in your life, you watch him, the way his brows furrow in concentration as he brings the most pleasurable experience upon you.
He fucks his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right, while his lips suck on your clit greedily, he looks up for a split second at the way your head is thrown back, before shoving his fingers deep, dick throbbing at the way you clench around them, taking your clit in is mouth, and sucking it, hard. You grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as you reach your orgasm, your whole body shaking “Jake!” You scream out through a moan as your juices coat his face, soaking the bed beneath you. He greedily licks, and slurps everything you let out, not letting anything go to waste, before looking up at you. He pulls his fingers out slowly, watching the way your body trembles.
You bite your lip as you watch him sit up again, your arousal coating his lips, he runs his tongue along them, savoring every drop.
He slides his boxers off, his dick hitting his abdomen, thick, heavy, and a bead of pearly white pre-cum at the tip, you watch as he spreads it on his tip, stroking himself in his hand. “You wanna know something?” He asks, watching the way your eyes flick between his face and his cock.
You nod quickly, making him smirk. “Ive dreamt about this moment almost every night. I remember waking up–” He looks down at your bare cunt, continuing “To see that I fucking came in my sleep.” You can't help the small gasp that leaves your mouth at the confession, "That's not all.” He says, pulling you closer, unclasping your bra and tossing it on the ground.
You bite your lip as the crisp air that hits your nipples, his finger comes up to toy with the sensitive bud, looking at your reaction, the little gasps that leave your lips “I fucked my fist so many times–everytime I imagined it was your pussy” He whispers, leaning down, letting his lips graze over your nipple, making you let out a desperate sound
“I thought about how you’d react when I did this–” He says before sucking on your nipple, his hand toying with the other one between his fingers making you moan, uncontrolled, you feel the way his cock rubs against your inner thigh.
He sits up, guiding his cock to your entrance, coating his tip with your juices from your previous orgasm. He slides the tip in slowly, letting your pussy adjust to the size, groaning, “Baby, I need you to relax okay? Can you do that for me?” He asks, finger rubbing circles on your inner thigh “mhm” you breathe out, before closing your eyes, trying to make yourself less tense as he slides more of his length in you
“Fuck- youre so warm” He says, hand moving to your hips to steady himself before bottoming out, a wrecked sound leaving his lips at the way your pussy clenches around him.
He leans down, head resing beside yours before lifting to look at you “Im going to move now, can you take it?” he asks, voice strained, but gentle “Please–” You let out through a whimper, he brings his lips to yours before pulling out halfway and thrusting back into you, making you moan into his mouth at the stretch. His cock reaching places you couldn't even imagine with your fingers, the feeling of being so full is almost euphoric.
“It's like this pussy was made for me baby–you feel so good” He whispers, sliding out of you again, and then back in, hips moving in an agonizing slow rhythm that has you holding onto his biceps and panting desperately in his mouth.
“F-faster?” you manage to let out, making him chuckle lightly “You sure?” he asks, looking down at you and the way you nod frantically. His lips suck at your neck as he picks up his speed thrusting in and out of you, hips rolling, enjoying every sound you let out.
Your nails dig into his arms, your pussy squeezing around him “You close baby?” he asks, the moan you let out is enough for him to understand, “I wanna come in you while you come on my cock, please?” the begging tone in his voice making you let out desperate pleas, his mouth is back on yours, both of you completely lost in the pleasure of each other, moaning against each other's mouths before he thrusts into you, hard, your pussy clenches around him, grinding up and down as you ride your orgasm out, at the same time milking his cock, making him whimper against you, saying your name though it all.
He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, before slowly inching his cock out, his cum spilling out of your pussy, you both wince at the sensitiveness, he pulls back looking down at you
“Where's your towels baby?” He asks, voice soft, you point towards the second drawer of your dresser, he grabs one coming back over to you, kneeling down to clean you up, you admire him, the focused look on his face, he looks up at you smiling “What?” He says through a chuckle
“You’re just really cute when you're focused” He climbs up till he's laid next to you, pulling himself closer to your warm embrace, resting his face on your chest, making you let out a giggle before he looks at you
“I want to be your boyfriend y/n” He says, emotion raw in his tone
“W-what?” You're caught off guard by the question
“Can I be your boyfriend?” He asks, voice low, almost shy
“Please?” he adds
You smile, biting your lip “yes, you can” You whisper, he tilts his head to kiss you again, embracing your warmth, you pull back
“You’re not going to get me flowers or anything?” You ask brow raising
“Oh, you just wait for tomorrow” He smiles against your lips
୨♡୧
Jake left your house that morning, kissing you goodbye, and saying to be ready by six at the latest, you were already dressed at 5.
The second you hear a knock at the door you rush to get it, swinging it open, heart beating fast when you see him, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, with a smile on his face
“Jake–They’re so pretty” You smile, taking them from his hand
“You’re prettier” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips before taking your hand and dragging you to his car.
He covers your eyes with his hands when he makes you get out of the car “Y/n you better not peak” he says, tickling your ear with his mouth, guiding you somewhere
“Shit- dont trip” He says, kicking a rock out of the way
You let out a laugh at how stressed he is right now
“Okay, three, two..” He removes his hand from your eyes, adjusting to the light you look around, at the open field, the sunset turning a pink/ orange hue in the distant, before your eyes fall to the setting before you, you cover your mouth with your hand, smiling against it as you look at the picnic before you
The Jake Sim set up a picnic for you at sunset. you can't help but giggle into your palm, turning to look at him
“Its perfect Jake” You say throwing your arms around his neck, pressing a light kiss to his lips
He smiles proudly, taking pride in the fact that he’s able to please you like this
He helps you sit down, before coming next to you, watching the way you glow from the golden light on you.
“You’re telling me Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon made these?” You say taking a bite of the small strawberry shortcake, the flavors melting in your mouth
“Yeah, they spent all day trying to figure out how, finding recipes and stuff” He says through a laugh
“Said it was their own way of apologizing” He lifts his finger to wipe frosting from your chin, bringing it up to lick it, smiling at you
“Tell them they're going to have to make me 10 more batches of this, because it might just be the best strawberry shortcake to date.” You say, completely serious
“They were considering opening a bakery” Jake says through a laugh, that has you join him
As the sun sets, you lean on his shoulder, you’re not thinking about the stressful things in your life like you normally do in quiet moments, right now it's you and him.
And you're at peace with that, because you feel like you've finally found your person.
“Thank you y/n” Jake says, turning his head to look at you
“For what?” you ask, voice barely a whisper
“Forgiving me, letting me in, it means a lot to me. And I'm really glad you did.” He says, moving a strand of hair behind your ear
“Thank you” You say so quietly, he almost wouldn't be able to hear it, he tilts his head in question
“For being there for me, and accepting me.” You say softly, he smiles before he cups the side of your face in his hand pulling you closer, and kissing you, gently..lovingly.
୨♡୧
And if I wrote reader giving him head for the first time and he actually goes insane
Okay sorry guys i'm just down bad as fuck
Thanks for reading! <3
@heebambilee @apriglw @nikimuraaa @fics-lovebot @hi00000234567 @h7llow @sooberriesx @jvngw0nlvr @middstape @vveebee @si3rren @ilovewomensbasketball @periwinkleandtwilight @rianzysworld @ligmqballs @liaviva @renatojr @ily6968 @jungwon67 @enhypen437 @guliexe @sunnysidesins @xoxoamadeo @p--j--s--j @rki7jaykewife @dulzuraaii @fancypeacepersona @supahintohoon @vmpwon @jimmiwuwaiting @woninlove @poopieboat @woonielvr
─────⋆˚࿔ ⋆ honey on ice ( psh ! )
✩ˎˊ˗ enhypen masterlist
⤷ pairing — sunghoon x fem!reader
⤷ word count — 18.4k ⤷ permanent taglist — open !
⤷ warnings — smut (minors dni), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), non idol au, dilf!sunghoon, single dad!sunghoon, ice skater!sunghoon, college!reader, nanny!reader, size kink, praise kink, slight dumbification (reader gets v babygirl-coded), manhandling, light nipple play, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, creampie, aftercare, soft dom!sunghoon, slight breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, fluff
✩ˎˊ˗ summary — you were supposed to save his daughter from loneliness—not him. park sunghoon has it all: medals, money, and a schedule too packed for bedtime stories. when his little girl starts closing off, he hires you—a broke college student with a bright laugh and quiet charm—as her nanny. you’re warm, young, and everything his cold, controlled world isn’t. or where saving him was never in the job description—but you did it anyway.
It was late into the night, the soft hum of the television filling the massive living room of Park Sunghoon’s estate. The faint glow of the screen cast light across the leather couches where Sunghoon sat slouched with a bottle of beer dangling loosely in his hand.
Chips and half-empty takeout boxes were sprawled across the coffee table—evidence of three hours spent yelling at football players they’d never meet.
Heeseung was nearest the remote, lazily clicking through channels until Sunghoon let out a deep sigh that made all three heads turn.
“I swear…” Sunghoon muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m trying to be a better father to Sooyun.”
Heeseung’s thumb paused on the remote as he shot him a knowing look. With a sigh, he lowered the volume. “Alright, here we go. Let’s all listen to Sunghoon complain about his miserable life again.”
“Fuck you,” Sunghoon said flatly, though his glare lacked any real heat.
Jay, sprawled casually on the loveseat across from them, smirked over his beer. “That’s mean. Let him vent. He’s sensitive.”
Jake, curled up in an armchair with one leg over the other, groaned dramatically.
“What now, Sunghoon? Did Sooyun draw a frowny face in her diary again? Or did she call you Mr. Park instead of dad?”
Sunghoon threw a chip at him—it missed. “I’m serious, assholes. Am I a shitty dad?”
Without hesitation, Heeseung and Jake chorused in unison: “Absolutely.”
Jay snorted into his drink, the sound muffled by the rim of the bottle.
“Goddamn it,” Sunghoon groaned, running both hands down his face as he leaned forward, elbows on knees.
“I’m trying my best for Sooyun. I give her whatever she wants. Toys, trips, dresses, a whole fucking pony if she asked—but it’s never enough. She’s always…” He trailed off, staring at his beer bottle like it held the answers.
“Sad,” Heeseung finished softly, voice surprisingly lacking its usual bite.
Sunghoon nodded, the crease between his brows deepening.
Jake leaned back with a sigh, swirling his beer lazily.
“Well, I mean… you’re always busy. Being a figure skating coach isn’t exactly a 9-to-5, dude. But let’s be honest—you’re out there looking after other people’s kids. Spoiled little heirs and heiresses whose rich parents don’t know how to raise them… sound familiar?”
The words hit harder than Sunghoon expected. He set his beer down on the table with a soft thud, staring blankly at the floor.
“Don’t turn into them,” Jay added quietly, picking up where Jake left off.
His eyes flicked briefly to Sunghoon before returning to the TV. “You’re not like those parents… yet.”
The silence that followed was thick, heavy with unsaid things. Sunghoon’s fingers tapped absently against his knee. “Okay, so what the hell do I do then?”
They all went quiet.
Then, Heeseung suddenly snapped his fingers with a grin. “I think I have a solution.”
“Oh boy,” Jake muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
“Shut up, this is genius.” Heeseung leaned forward like he was about to pitch the next big startup.
“Hire someone. A nanny. You know—someone young, fun, patient. Someone who can actually be there when you’re not.”
“A nanny?” Sunghoon echoed, eyebrows furrowed. “What am I, sixty?”
Jay chuckled under his breath. “You’re a single dad, Sunghoon. And your kid’s lonely. Don’t make this harder than it is.”
“Think about it,” Heeseung pressed, eyes gleaming now. “She gets someone to hang out with who’s not cold, distant, and dead inside like you—”
“Again. Fuck you.”
“—and you get peace of mind knowing she’s not sulking around this big empty house.”
Sunghoon rubbed his temple. “You make it sound so simple.”
Heeseung only grinned, leaning back into the couch as he took another lazy sip of his beer. “That’s because it is.”
Sunghoon shot him a flat look, his head lolling to the side against the leather. “What do you mean?”
“I know someone,” Heeseung started, his grin widening.
“Well—not me. My brother.” He paused, and the others immediately perked up.
Jake arched a brow. “This sounds suspicious already.”
Ignoring him, Heeseung continued, gesturing vaguely with his bottle. “He and his wife hire this college student. At least every month. Whenever they have to fly out of the country for business trips, she comes over to watch their kids.”
Sunghoon’s brow furrowed as he sat up straighter, resting his forearms on his thighs. “And I’m supposed to just trust some random college student with my daughter?”
Heeseung rolled his eyes, waving him off. “She’s not random. I’ve met her. She seems… sweet.”
Jay let out a low laugh from across the room, swirling his beer lazily. “Coming from you, that doesn’t say much.”
Heeseung’s grin dropped as he squinted at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jake, already biting back a laugh, didn’t even try to hide it this time. “It means you think every girl’s cute, Heeseung. A waitress smiles at you and you’re ready to wife her up.”
“Bullshit,” Heeseung scoffed, flipping Jake off.
“But seriously, she really is sweet. Like… good with kids, not annoying, and actually smart. She’s studying education or psychology or something. My brother’s wife raves about her.”
Sunghoon stayed quiet for a moment, fingers drumming against his knee. The idea was absurd. Entrust his daughter to some college kid he didn’t even know?
But then again, Sooyun’s sad little eyes flashed in his mind. The way she barely smiled anymore, how her room felt quieter lately even when she was home.
He let out a long breath. “I don’t know…”
“You don’t have to marry her, Sunghoon. Just meet her.” Heeseung tilted his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Talk to her, see if she’s a fit. If not, then fine. But at least try.”
Jay smirked, voice low and teasing. “Or maybe you’ll like her, and she’ll be Sooyun’s nanny and your emotional support system.”
“Fuck off.”
The room erupted with laughter. Jay nearly choked on his beer, Jake slapping his thigh as he doubled over, and Heeseung grinning like he’d just won some unspoken game.
Sunghoon leaned back against the leather couch with a groan, tipping his head up to stare at the ornate chandelier above.
“Send me her number,” he muttered, his voice low but reluctant. “I’ll look into it.”
Heeseung’s grin grew impossibly wider as he reached for his phone. “Look at you, Mr. Progress. Daddy of the Year.”
“Shut up,” Sunghoon grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Don’t fuck her on the first meeting, yeah?” Heeseung teased, typing something into his phone with a smirk.
The throw pillow flew across the room before he could even blink, smacking Heeseung square in the chest. He let out a surprised laugh as the pillow hit the floor.
“I’m not like you,” Sunghoon shot back, narrowing his eyes.
Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with an amused grin. “He’s right though. Heeseung would have her up against the counter by dinner.”
“Hey!” Heeseung protested, pointing a chip at Jake. “I have self-control. Sometimes.”
Sunghoon exhaled sharply, grabbing his beer again and swirling it in his hand. “I’m not hiring a nanny to flirt with her. This is for Sooyun. That’s it.”
“Sure,” Jay hummed, clearly unconvinced. “That’s what they all say.”
“Fuck all of you,” Sunghoon muttered, but there was no bite to his voice. He took a long sip, already dreading whatever setup Heeseung was planning.
Heeseung’s phone buzzed, and he waved it at Sunghoon with a shit-eating grin. “I already texted Heedo. Her name’s (Y/N). I’ll send you her number later. Don’t be an ass when you call her.”
“I won’t.” Sunghoon sighed again, staring at his phone on the coffee table like it had just become another thing to deal with.
Jake raised his beer in mock salute. “To Sooyun’s new nanny—and to Sunghoon hopefully getting laid for the first time in years.”
The throw pillow found its next victim.
The sound of animated singing drifted from the living room speakers as you gently tucked the two boys under their blanket, their small faces already soft with sleep.
The Disney movie credits rolled in the background, the room glowing with the warm light of the TV.
“Sweet dreams, Hamin. You too, Hyunmin,” you whispered, brushing Hyunmin’s hair back from his forehead.
“Night night,” Hamin mumbled sleepily, already clutching his stuffed lion tighter.
You smiled, your heart warming at the sight before you straightened up, quietly gathering the plastic plates and juice boxes abandoned on the coffee table.
You were halfway to the kitchen when a low voice called out from the hallway.
“(Y/N), can I talk to you for a second?”
Startled, you looked up to see Heedo, the boys’ father, leaning casually against the doorframe.
“Oh—sure,” you said, balancing the plates in your hands. “Just give me a moment.”
You carried the plates into the kitchen, setting them down carefully on the table.
But your eyes widened slightly when you noticed someone else sitting there—a tall man in a fitted black coat, sleeves pushed up just enough to show a luxury watch, his posture relaxed as he leaned back in the chair.
He gave you a lazy grin, one that was equal parts charming and mischievous. “Hey.”
You blinked at him, then at Heedo, and back. “Am I in trouble?” you asked cautiously, though there was a teasing lilt to your voice.
Both men chuckled.
“No, no trouble,” Heedo said, shaking his head. “Actually… Heeseung wanted to talk to you. So I’ll leave you two to it.”
You tilted your head slightly, brows furrowed in mild confusion, but nodded. “Uh… okay.”
Heedo excused himself with a smile, leaving you standing in the kitchen doorway with this stranger—well, not a total stranger. You’d heard of ‘Uncle Heeseung’ from the boys before.
Heeseung pushed off the chair slightly, arms crossing over his chest as he looked at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “(Y/N), right?”
You nodded quickly. “Yes, Mr. Lee.”
He barked out a short laugh. “Oh, no. Heeseung’s fine. Makes me feel old otherwise.”
You smiled politely, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Okay… Heeseung.”
“Better.” He gave a small nod of approval. “So. (Y/N). You regularly babysit Hamin and Hyunmin, right?”
“When they need me, yeah,” you replied, crossing your arms loosely. “Why?”
Heeseung leaned casually against the counter, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.
“A friend of mine needs help with his daughter. And, well, I’ve seen how you are with my nephews. You’re good. And they adore you.”
You tilted your head slightly, an eyebrow raising. “Why are you the one telling me this and not your friend? Does he not have a mouth?”
That earned you a full laugh this time. “Feisty.” Heeseung’s grin widened as he shook his head. “I like that.”
Your brow furrowed a little more. “Not sure if that’s a compliment or if I should be worried.”
Heeseung chuckled, uncrossing his arms to rest his hands on the counter. “Relax. I’m just the one who knows you, so it felt easier to ask. You interested?”
You hesitated, glancing back toward the living room where Hamin and Hyunmin were snuggled under their blanket.
“What about Hamin and Hyunmin?”
Heeseung waved it off with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll cover them. This won’t interfere.”
You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite your initial wariness. “Sure, I guess. I’ll help.”
“Atta girl.” Heeseung’s grin softened slightly. He reached for his phone, already scrolling through his contacts.
“I’ll give you his number. His name’s Park Sunghoon. Don’t let the cold exterior fool you—he’s not as scary as he looks.”
You raised a brow again, smirking a little. “Now should I be nervous?”
“Only if you’re afraid of handsome, broody single dads.” Heeseung winked.
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Noted.”
Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled out your phone and unlocked it, the screen glowing faintly in the warm kitchen light.
“Here,” you said, holding it out to Heeseung.
He took it without hesitation, his fingers flying over the screen as he quickly typed in a number.
You noticed the faint smirk tugging at his lips as he worked—like he knew something you didn’t.
“There,” Heeseung said finally, handing your phone back. “I’ll notify him soon. Probably tomorrow morning. Expect a call or a text.”
You nodded slowly, clutching your phone to your chest. “Alright…”
Heeseung’s grin softened as he pushed off the counter. “You’ll do great, (Y/N). Trust me.”
“Do I have a choice?” you asked under your breath, but he only chuckled.
“Not really.” He gave you one last wink before strolling out of the kitchen, his footsteps fading down the hall.
Left alone, you stood there for a moment staring at the empty doorway, your fingers tightening around your phone.
You glanced down at the screen where the new contact—stared back at you in neat numbers.
“What have I gotten myself into?” you muttered under your breath.
With a small sigh, you gathered the plastic plates again and carried them to the sink, the faint sound of water running as you began rinsing them off. Your mind was already racing.
“Please don’t let him be weird,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head as you set the plates aside to dry.
The sleek black car rolled to a stop outside the massive building, its chrome letters gleaming under the pale winter sunlight: ‘PARK ICE & CO.’
Heeseung snorted under his breath as he slammed the car door shut. “Yeah, okay, flex harder, Sunghoon.”
His eyes flicked to the row of luxury cars parked nearby—Porsches, Teslas, even a matte black G-Wagon.
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, Heeseung strolled toward the glass doors. The guard at the entrance straightened at the sight of him.
“Good morning, Mr. Lee.”
Heeseung nodded back with a lazy grin. “Morning.”
The first thing that hit him as the doors slid open was the sharp bite of cold air. It smelled faintly of ice, rubber, and hot chocolate—probably from the snack counter at the far end of the lobby.
But the next thing was louder: the sound of children laughing, skates scraping against ice, and a few harried babysitters watching nervously from benches lined along the rink.
Heeseung’s lips curled in amusement as he muttered to himself, “Rich people.”
His eyes scanned the rink until they found him.
Park Sunghoon.
The man stood out effortlessly—tall, lean, dressed in sleek black athletic wear as he moved fluidly across the ice. His voice was calm but firm as he instructed the group of young skaters clustered around him.
“Careful when stopping. Don’t let your weight pitch forward. You’ll hurt yourself if you tumble.”
Heeseung leaned casually against the glass, his arm brushing the cold surface as he watched Sunghoon smile at one of the smaller kids who nodded earnestly.
There had to be at least eighteen kids on the ice, their colorful jackets like moving confetti against the pristine rink.
“Coach Park,” Heeseung called out, his voice carrying easily over the ambient noise.
Sunghoon looked up instantly, his expression still calm, though his brow arched slightly. The smile didn’t leave his face—at least not yet.
Heeseung smirked, tapping the glass lightly. “Got a minute?”
Sunghoon turned to his assistant, murmuring something Heeseung couldn’t hear as he nodded and stepped forward to take over.
With a graceful push, he skated toward the edge of the rink, stopping neatly in front of Heeseung.
Leaning on the barrier, Sunghoon tilted his head, his dark hair slightly damp from the cold air. “What are you doing here?”
“I got you a babysitter,” Heeseung replied simply, his grin infuriatingly bright.
Sunghoon raised a brow, unlatching the small side door beside Heeseung. As he stepped off the ice, he crouched to remove the guards from his skates, his fingers quick and precise.
“What bribe did you offer Heedo to loan you his regular babysitter?” Sunghoon asked, standing tall again as he handed the guards to Heeseung.
Heeseung caught them with ease, shrugging. “I didn’t. I talked to (Y/N) myself.”
Sunghoon crossed his arms, the fabric of his jacket stretching slightly over his shoulders. “She said yes?”
“Yeah. Told her you needed one.”
“She agreed just like that?”
Heeseung leaned back against the glass, his grin widening. “Told you she’s a sweet girl.”
Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “What now?”
“I sent you her number a few minutes ago. That should do it.”
Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed slightly. “Are you sure about her?”
Heeseung laughed, the sound echoing faintly in the cold rink air. “Come on, Coach Park. What do you take me for?”
“A fuckboy with no morals,” Sunghoon said flatly, one corner of his mouth twitching.
“Wow,” Heeseung sighed, dramatically clutching his chest. “The disrespect. I’m banning you from my company building with the amount of insults you throw at me daily.”
“Good,” Sunghoon muttered as he pulled the zipper of his jacket up slightly, already moving back toward the rink door.
“Don’t scare her, Sunghoon!” Heeseung called after him.
“You’re not even sure if I’ll reach out to her.” Sunghoon shot back over his shoulder, crouching briefly to pull off the last skate guard.
He tossed it lightly to Heeseung, who caught it with a grin.
“Seriously. That guy,” Heeseung muttered to himself with a shake of his head, watching as Sunghoon stepped smoothly back onto the ice and glided away like he hadn’t just been volunteered for a life change.
Sunghoon didn’t know how long he’d been spacing out after that. He barely remembered finishing the class.
Didn’t register the polite goodbyes from the kids or their parents.
Couldn’t even recall the moment he stopped by a restaurant to grab takeout—though the faint smell of soup lingering in the car told him he had.
He didn’t remember the drive home either, his luxury sports car eating up the darkened streets until the familiar towering gates of his estate came into view.
With a sigh, he pressed his thumb to the scanner by the driver’s side, the gates sliding open with a soft mechanical hum.
The tires crunched against the gravel driveway as he pulled in, the headlights briefly illuminating the grand facade of the Park residence before fading as he killed the engine.
Leaning back against the leather seat, Sunghoon let out a long breath, staring at nothing.
His fingers drummed absentmindedly against the steering wheel before he finally grabbed his things from the passenger seat—the brown paper bag of food and his sleek leather satchel—and pushed the door open.
The warm light from the house spilled out onto the driveway.
The first thing he heard wasn’t silence.
It was chaos.
“No, sushi tomorrow!” Jake’s voice echoed from inside.
“Pizza. You literally ate sushi yesterday, you weirdo,” Jay countered, his tone dripping with mock irritation.
Sunghoon’s eyes flicked to the living room as he stepped in, taking in the sight of his two friends half-sprawled on the couch, bickering like teenagers.
But his gaze softened when it landed on the small figure curled up in the corner.
Sooyun.
She was lying across the couch in her pink pajamas, her tiny arms hugging a stuffed bunny to her chest, her lashes fluttering slightly as she teetered on the edge of sleep.
Quietly, Sunghoon set down his things and walked over. He pulled the soft blanket from the arm of the couch and draped it over her small frame before kneeling down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“Shut up,” he said without looking up, his voice quiet but firm.
Jake jumped slightly at the sound, his head whipping around. “Shit, you’re like a ninja—”
Jay chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, man.”
Sooyun stirred at the voices, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists as she blinked up at her father. “Hi, Daddy,” she whispered sleepily.
Sunghoon’s lips curved into a rare, soft smile. “Hey, baby.” He pressed another kiss to her forehead.
She reached out, her voice small. “Pick me up?”
“Of course.”
He scooped her up with practiced ease, cradling her against his chest as she buried her face into his shoulder. She still smelled faintly of baby powder and strawberry shampoo.
“Did you have fun with Uncle Jay and Jake?” he asked as he turned to face his friends, who were now watching with matching sheepish smiles.
Sooyun nodded, her voice muffled against his jacket. “They took me to eat nuggets after school.”
Sunghoon’s eyes softened again. He looked back at Jay and Jake, his expression unreadable at first before he sighed. “Seriously. You two… thank you.”
Jay waved him off with a small grin. “It’s nothing. I got off work early anyway.”
“Yeah, and it was my day off,” Jake added with a shrug.
Sunghoon arched a brow at them. “You two own your own companies.”
That earned him twin laughs. Jay ran a hand through his hair. “Exactly why we can sneak out whenever we want.”
“Yeah,” Jake said with a grin. “Plus, we love taking care of Sooyun, don’t we, baby?”
Sooyun peeked up from Sunghoon’s shoulder and beamed at them, her dimpled smile making Jake laugh and reach out to ruffle her hair gently.
“Seriously, thank you,” Sunghoon said again, his voice quieter this time, almost reluctant like the words didn’t come easy.
Jay picked up his jacket. “The stuff we bought for Sooyun’s in her room, by the way.”
“They got me stuffies!” Sooyun said excitedly, her tiny hands tugging at Sunghoon’s collar. “And they’re all pink, Daddy!”
Sunghoon couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. “You spoil her, don’t you?”
Sooyun nodded solemnly. “They do. And I love them.”
Jake and Jay exchanged grins like proud uncles as Jake said, “We better get going before she starts crying for us to stay.”
Jay laughed softly, adjusting his coat. “Night, Hoon. Bye, Sooyun.”
“Bye, Uncles,” Sooyun said with a sleepy wave, her voice small.
Sunghoon nodded at them, watching as they slipped out of the door, the house falling quiet again save for the soft hum of the heating system.
Carrying Sooyun upstairs, Sunghoon nudged open the door to her room with his foot. The pink night light glowed faintly, casting her room in a soft, comforting hue.
He gently laid her down on her bed, tucking her in with practiced care as she clutched one of her new stuffed animals.
“Night night, Daddy,” she murmured, her lashes already lowering.
“Night night, baby,” he whispered back, brushing her hair from her forehead. He turned on her night light fully before flicking off the main switch.
As he closed her door quietly behind him, he let himself linger for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. His mind drifted—not to work, not to the rink, but to a name flashing on his phone earlier.
With a heavy sigh, he turned and padded down the hall, his socks silent against the polished wood floors.
When he reached the double doors of his office, he pushed them open, the faint scent of leather and cedar greeting him.
The room was dark until he flicked on the lights, soft recessed bulbs illuminating the sleek space. The floor-to-ceiling glass walls gave him a view of the city lights blinking in the distance, but he barely looked.
He dropped his satchel onto the desk and sank into his leather chair, leaning back as his eyes flicked to the night outside.
One hand rubbed at the back of his neck while the other reached for his phone.
He unlocked it lazily, scrolling to Heeseung’s message.
heeseung [8:10 A.M.]: here. it’s (y/n)’s number. don’t be a dick.
Sunghoon snorted under his breath, his thumb hovering over the contact details.
“Don’t be a dick,” he muttered, repeating his friend’s words with a scoff. “Easier said than done, Heeseung.”
He glanced at the time on his phone screen—11:07 PM. A low hum left his throat as he drummed his fingers against the desk.
Too late? Maybe. But part of him wanted to just get this over with.
He tapped the number. The keyboard popped up.
His thumb hesitated above the letters.
“What am I even supposed to say…” he murmured to himself, frowning. “This isn’t a job interview.”
With a quiet sigh, he started typing anyway.
He stared at the message for a moment, his finger hovering over Send. It looked so… blunt. Cold. But what else was he supposed to say?
“Whatever,” he muttered. “She’s not here to be my friend.”
And with that, he hit send.
The message went through instantly, the little gray bubble staring back at him mockingly.
He leaned back in his chair, tossing his phone onto the desk like it had burned him. His eyes flicked back to the city lights outside, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“She’s probably asleep,” he said under his breath. “Or she’s going to think I’m some uptight asshole.”
Which—he realized grimly—wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate.
Across the city, you were in a completely different world.
You were sprawled out on your bed in soft pink silk sleepwear, the delicate fabric catching the warm glow of your desk lamp.
Your laptop was perched precariously on a pile of open textbooks and highlighted notes, pastel highlighters scattered around like candy.
A cooling eye mask clung under your tired eyes as you skimmed through another line of your chemistry review, highlighter in hand.
Your laptop screen was split in half: one side showing your study materials, the other side a video call where Sunoo and Jungwon were in the middle of their third heated argument over tomorrow’s exam.
“I’m telling you, it’s sodium hydroxide, not sodium carbonate!” Jungwon said, his voice rising slightly.
“Jungwon, no. You’re gonna fail if you keep thinking like that,” Sunoo countered, holding up a pen like it was a gavel.
You muted yourself, suppressing a laugh as you highlighted another sentence in aggressive pink.
Then your phone buzzed. A soft chime against your stack of books.
You glanced at it absently, thinking it was just a random group chat notification, but your brow arched when you saw the screen.
Unknown [11:11 P.M.]: Is this (Y/N)?
You froze for half a second, your highlighter hovering midair. Setting it down, you reached for the phone, unlocking it quickly.
you [11:11 P.M.]: yes. who’s this?
The typing dots appeared almost immediately, and you tilted your head slightly. Whoever it was, they weren’t wasting time.
Unknown [11:11 P.M.]: This is Park Sunghoon. You’re the babysitter Lee Heeseung recommended, correct?
You sat up straighter now, legs crossing under you as your brain caught up to the name. Park Sunghoon. The mental image of Heeseung’s lazy grin from earlier flashed through your mind.
You swallowed down the surprise and typed back quickly, keeping your tone polite.
you [11:12 P.M.]: oh! good evening, mr. park. yes, that’s me.
The typing dots appeared again—fast.
Unknown [11:12 P.M.]: Are you available tomorrow at 12 noon? I’d like to discuss the details and have you meet my daughter.
You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment, your eyes flicking back to the still-muted Sunoo and Jungwon, now arguing about molarity.
you [11:12 P.M.]: yes, i’m free tomorrow at noon!
Unknown [11:12 P.M.]: Good. Thank you. Have a good evening.
You blinked at the abruptness of it, lips twitching into the faintest smile. Typical rich guy energy. Still, you decided to add a little warmth.
you [11:13 P.M.]: you too, mr. park. good night!
The message sat there for a few seconds before the read receipt popped up. No reply.
You stared at your phone, laughed, then set it down beside your stack of notes.
Unmuting yourself, you leaned back against your pillows just in time for Sunoo to pause mid-rant and squint at you.
“Wait. Who was that? Why’d you mute?” he asked suspiciously.
Jungwon perked up too, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, you never mute. Was it your little situationship?”
You snorted, shaking your head as you swiped your highlighter across yet another sentence in your textbook. “You know I don’t do all that romance stuff. Situationships, flings, love letters—pass.”
Sunoo hummed, spinning his pen between his fingers before pointing it straight at the camera.
“I really hope you get married someday. Just so you’ll finally stop looking down at love like it’s a bad group project.”
You laughed, the sound soft and unbothered as you leaned back on your pillows. “Give me, what, ten years? Maybe then I’ll find a man who fits into my very selective standards.”
Jungwon snickered. “As if that’ll magically happen. Ten years from now, you’re gonna be rich, successful, and still babysitting other people’s kids for fun.”
“Sounds like a vibe, honestly,” you teased, clicking your pen closed with a little flourish.
But Sunoo wasn’t letting up. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing playfully. “But really. Who was that? You muted us and suddenly went all polite-girl mode. ‘Yes, sir. Good night, sir.’ Suspicious.”
You scrunched your nose, tucking your phone half under a notebook as if that’d hide the glow of the screen.
“Relax. It’s just a new babysitting job.”
Jungwon raised a brow. “What about those two boys you’re always babysitting? Hamin and Hyunmin?”
You set down your highlighter and stretched your arms above your head.
“Well, their uncle said he’s got it covered for now. Long story short? The uncle basically referred me to his friend who needed someone for his daughter.”
Sunoo tilted his head like a curious cat. “So… the one you were chatting with just now was the dad?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, picking up your pen again like you weren’t phased.
“Is he your type?” Sunoo asked bluntly, wiggling his brows.
You barked out a laugh, shaking your head with a grin. “I doubt it. He gives off serious businessman who doesn’t smile often vibes. Probably allergic to pink too.”
Sunoo clasped a hand over his mouth, scandalized. “Not the pink allergy! (Y/N), don’t do him like that.”
Jungwon smirked knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”
You groaned dramatically, burying your face into your hands. “Oh my god. You two are exhausting.”
“Not as exhausting as you pretending you’re not curious,” Sunoo singsonged.
You peeked at your phone screen, still faintly glowing with Park Sunghoon’s message.
A small smile tugged at your lips—one you quickly hid behind your highlighter as you said, “Focus on chemistry, you love-struck losers. I’m trying to pass.”
It was just past eleven-thirty when you slid your laptop shut and grabbed your tote, brushing off Jungwon and Sunoo’s twin pouty faces on the call.
“You’re ditching us for lunch?” Sunoo gasped, hand to his chest like you’d betrayed him personally.
“I have a meeting, geez.” You slipped on your shoes with a little huff. “I’ll make it up to you. Pinky swear.”
“Better be with free food,” Jungwon muttered. “And dessert.”
“Noted.” You flashed them a cheeky grin before ending the call.
Now you were tucked in the back of a taxi, your fingers tracing over your phone screen as the driver wove through the upscale neighborhood.
Every house looked like it belonged on a movie set—towering gates, marble fountains, neatly manicured hedges.
Your lips moved as you muttered the house numbers under your breath, watching them blur past the window. “52… 54… 56…”
The taxi slowed, and your eyes caught on a massive black-gated manor. You pointed. “Ah—I think we’re here.”
“Big place,” the driver remarked with a whistle as he pulled up.
You laughed softly, offering a polite smile as you handed over your payment. “Yeah… Thanks for the ride.”
As you stepped out, smoothing down the hem of your white skirt and adjusting the bow on your pink blouse, your eyes immediately landed on a familiar figure.
Heeseung.
Leaning against a sleek black car, sunglasses perched on his head, his posture was as casual as if he owned the place.
You raised a brow, clutching your tote tighter but choosing not to comment right away.
“Why are you here?” you asked as you approached, tilting your head in curiosity.
Heeseung’s lips curved into a grin. “I told Sunghoon I’d be picking you up.”
Your brows furrowed. “Picking me up? I literally took a cab.”
He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Didn’t want you to show up nervous. Thought you’d be more comfortable seeing my pretty face before dealing with my grumpy friend.”
You raised a brow, unimpressed, “Very funny, Mr. Lee.”
“Also,” Heeseung added, tapping his finger against his chin like he was pondering something, “figured you wouldn’t want to be stuck in a car alone with a total stranger. So… congratulations. You get a less intimidating escort.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t,” you said, tugging gently at the ribbon tied neatly in your hair.
He laughed at your bluntness. “Fair enough. You look cute, by the way. Very…” His eyes flicked over your outfit—soft pink silk blouse, delicate lace-trim skirt, and a little pearl bow clip in your hair. “…non-threatening.”
You let out a little laugh, shaking your head as you adjusted the strap of your tote. “I’m not here to impress, Mr. Lee. I’m here for the job.”
“Sure, sure,” Heeseung teased, his lips quirking into a knowing grin as he nodded toward the towering gates.
“Come on. Let’s not keep him waiting.”
You took a deep breath, clutching your bag a little tighter as you followed him.
The imposing black gates loomed taller with every step, the quiet hum of the fingerprint scanner filling the silence as Heeseung pressed his thumb to it.
With a sharp beep, the gates swung open.
The air seemed cooler here. You weren’t sure if it was the sheer size of the estate or the eerie calm that hung over it like a fog.
“Relax,” Heeseung said casually, glancing at you over his shoulder as you trailed behind him.
You let out another slow breath, nodding silently as you adjusted your skirt nervously.
The front door opened into a sleek, glassy expanse of a home—white marble floors, minimalist décor, sunlight spilling in from ceiling-high windows.
The faint smell of cologne and something sweeter—vanilla, maybe?—lingered in the air.
Heeseung led you past a spiraling staircase and into an open-plan kitchen-living room where someone was already sitting at the island counter, sipping from a mug.
“Hey, Sunghoon,” Heeseung called, clearing his throat lightly. “We’re here.”
The man turned.
You nearly froze.
He was tall—maybe just a shade shorter than Heeseung—but somehow his presence filled the room. Broad shoulders, perfectly tailored black dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms.
His dark hair fell slightly over his eyes, framing a face so sharp it could’ve been carved out of stone. His expression was unreadable, except for the slight furrow of his brows as his gaze flicked to you.
You swallowed hard, instinctively stepping a little closer behind Heeseung like his broad frame could shield you from the weight of Sunghoon’s stare.
Sunghoon stood and walked over, his strides purposeful and smooth.
“Did you seriously force her to get in your car?” he asked, voice calm but edged with faint disapproval, one brow arching.
Heeseung only shrugged, utterly unfazed. “Relax. (Y/N) came here by herself. I just happened to be by the gate.”
Sunghoon’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer—like he was sizing you up, calculating something.
Heeseung chuckled, giving your arm a playful nudge. “Relax. He won’t bite. Yet.”
You let out a nervous laugh, clutching your tote a little tighter as Heeseung stepped aside, leaving you standing there fully visible for the first time.
And Sunghoon—oh, Sunghoon—his sharp gaze faltered just slightly.
He’d expected someone more serious. The kind of college student who wore a pressed blouse and stiff slacks to interviews.
But you—standing there in your soft pink silk blouse, lace-trim skirt, and delicate bows—were not at all what he imagined.
You looked so bright. So warm. So young.
‘This is who Heeseung vouched for?’ he thought, the faintest flicker of surprise crossing his features before his usual stoicism slipped back into place.
“Mr. Park,” you said softly, offering a polite little nod, your voice sweet but steady despite the nerves fluttering in your chest.
Heeseung cleared his throat loudly, a grin playing on his lips. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve got a board meeting at twelve.”
“Of course you do,” Sunghoon said dryly without breaking his gaze from you.
Heeseung patted your shoulder gently. “You’ll do fine. He’s not as scary as he looks.”
You gave him a small, appreciative smile, even as your fingers curled tighter around the handle of your tote.
“See you around, (Y/N),” Heeseung teased, giving a little wave as he strode out, leaving you alone in the vast, quiet space with the man you were supposed to work for.
The silence that followed felt heavier.
You squirmed slightly, clutching your tote in front of you like a shield as Park Sunghoon’s gaze settled on you—slowly, almost painfully, dragging from the top of your pearl hair clip to the tips of your white Mary Jane heels. His expression gave nothing away.
He cleared his throat, his voice smooth but cool. “Let’s take this to the living room.”
You nodded quickly, trailing just a step behind as he walked toward the sunken living space.
His tall frame moved with precision, like everything about him had been rehearsed a thousand times over—posture perfect, steps silent even against the marble floors.
He gestured wordlessly to one of the black leather couches. “Please. Sit.”
You obeyed instantly, perching on the edge of the couch with your knees together and hands resting carefully on your skirt.
Sunghoon’s brow lifted ever so slightly at how quick you were to follow, but he said nothing as he settled across from you, one arm draping loosely over the back of his seat.
The silence stretched.
The faint ticking of a modern clock filled the room as your eyes flickered nervously around—the towering bookshelves, the marble coffee table, the floor-to-ceiling windows that let sunlight spill across the pristine floors.
Everything felt expensive. Too expensive for you to even breathe on.
“(Y/N), right?” Sunghoon’s deep voice broke the quiet.
You nodded. “Yes, Mr. Park.”
A deep, rich laugh rumbled from his chest. It was warm and low, catching you off guard as your fingers curled in your lap.
“Just Sunghoon,” he corrected, his lips tugging faintly at the corners.
You hesitated, testing it softly on your lips. “Okay… Sunghoon.”
Something flickered in his dark eyes—amusement, maybe—but it was gone just as fast.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” you answered quickly, your voice even but soft.
He nodded once. “College student?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your major?”
“Psychology.”
“Psychology,” he repeated, his tone unreadable as his eyes locked onto yours. “Interesting choice. Why?”
You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, then glanced back up at him with a small smile. “I like understanding people. And I guess I’ve always been the type to listen to others… it felt like the right path.”
He hummed, leaning back slightly. “Why do you babysit?”
You blinked at the abruptness of the question but answered honestly. “I love kids. There’s… something innocent about them. They’re so easy to make happy. You just have to listen, really listen.”
You smiled faintly at the thought. “I want some of my own someday.”
Sunghoon’s gaze softened for just a fraction of a second before his usual stoic expression returned. He nodded slowly. “I see.”
You shifted in your seat, trying to ignore how the weight of his stare made your heart thump harder in your chest.
“Do you have much experience?” he asked.
“Yes. I babysit my neighbor’s kids regularly. And Mr. Lee’s nephews sometimes. They’re…” You let out a small laugh. “A handful. But fun.”
“Mm.” Sunghoon’s fingers drummed lightly against his knee, his gaze still fixed on you. “And you’re sure you can handle Sooyun?”
You met his gaze for the first time, your voice steady despite your nerves. “I can. I don’t scare easy, Mr—Sunghoon.”
That faint smirk tugged at his lips again, and for a fleeting second, he looked almost impressed.
You didn’t drop your gaze—not yet. But he could see it. The slight quiver in your fingers where they rested atop your tote. The tiny shift of your knees like you were resisting the urge to fidget.
“(Y/N),” Sunghoon said suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the quiet.
You blinked. “Yes?”
“You’re hired.”
You froze. “…Just like that?”
A laugh escaped him—low, rich, and warm enough to catch you completely off guard. “You seem like a nice girl,” he said easily, one corner of his mouth curling upward.
“Smart. Calm. Polite. And…” his eyes flicked over your delicate blouse and tidy posture, “…you don’t look like the type to break things.”
Your lips parted slightly as your cheeks warmed under his stare. “O-oh. Thank you?”
He leaned back against the leather couch, his long fingers drumming idly on the armrest as his dark eyes stayed fixed on you. “Are you available every day?”
“Yes,” you replied, finding your voice again. “Most of my classes are online. I barely have to go back to campus except for the occasional exam or meeting.”
He nodded at this, satisfied. “Good. I’m always needed back at Park Ice & Co., my rink, and…” He trailed off slightly, his jaw tightening for a moment. “…as much as I want to spend more time with Sooyun—”
“You’re busy,” you finished gently, a small, understanding smile tugging at your lips. “Right?”
His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for the first time since you stepped foot in the house, his expression softened—not much, but enough to make your heart stutter.
“…Right,” he echoed, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
You didn’t think someone like Park Sunghoon—stoic, intimidating, poised—was even capable of that kind of smile. But there it was, fleeting and quiet, and it made your chest warm.
Just as you were about to ask another question, the soft sound of small footsteps echoed from the spiral staircase.
Sunghoon’s head turned instantly.
Peeking out from behind one of the carved pillars was a little girl—wide-eyed and hesitant, clutching a stuffed bunny almost as big as her head. Her pink pajamas were slightly wrinkled, and her short black hair was tousled like she’d just woken up from a nap.
“Sooyun,” Sunghoon called softly, his tone warmer than you’d heard all morning. “Come here. Don’t be shy.”
The little girl hesitated for a moment, then padded carefully across the marble floor.
She stopped just short of the couch before instinctively curling into Sunghoon’s chest, her tiny fingers fisting in his shirt as she buried her face against him.
Your heart melted at the sight.
For someone so sharp and poised, Park Sunghoon held her with a gentleness that didn’t seem possible.
One large hand cradled her head protectively, and his voice dropped to a low murmur as he brushed her hair back. “Hey, baby. Did you just wake up?”
She nodded shyly against him, peeking one wide brown eye up at you.
“This is (Y/N),” Sunghoon said, glancing down at her with a small smile that somehow made him look ten years younger. “She’s going to be spending time with you when Daddy’s working.”
You gave a soft smile, crouching slightly so you were eye level with her. “Hi, Sooyun. It’s nice to meet you.”
She blinked at you, then tucked her face back into Sunghoon’s shirt.
“Sorry,” he said with a quiet laugh. “She’s not usually this shy. She’ll warm up to you.”
You tilted your head, still smiling as you straightened up. “That’s okay. I’ll give her time.”
Sooyun peeked at you again from the safety of her father’s arms, her big brown eyes curious but cautious.
You met her gaze with a soft smile, your voice gentle. “Hi, baby.”
She blinked, her tiny fingers still clutching Sunghoon’s shirt. But then—hesitantly—her lips curved into a shy little smile.
“There she is,” you whispered like it was a secret, smiling even brighter.
Sooyun slowly uncurls herself from Sunghoon’s lap, her small hands gripping the edge of the leather couch for balance as she leaned forward slightly. “Do you… like pink?”
Your eyes lit up, and you nodded eagerly. “Mhm! It’s my favorite color.”
Her little face brightened. “Mine too!”
“Really?” you said, your grin widening. “It’s the best color, isn’t it? So cute and soft.”
She nodded enthusiastically, head bobbing.
But then she glanced up at her father like she was silently asking for permission. Sunghoon, still sitting back with an arm draped lazily over the couch’s armrest, gave her a single nod.
That seemed to be enough.
Sooyun carefully slid off the couch, clutching her stuffed bunny to her chest as she padded over to where you sat. She stopped just in front of you, tilting her head like she was examining you.
“You’re really pretty,” she said suddenly, her voice quiet but sincere.
Your heart melted instantly. You beamed at her, resting a hand over your chest. “You too, baby. You’re so, so pretty.”
That got her to smile—finally a genuine, little-kid grin that made her cheeks puff up adorably.
You patted the empty spot beside you on the couch as she made a small attempt to climb up, her tiny arms trying to pull herself up but failing with a soft huff.
“Do you need help, Sooyun?” you asked, giggling softly at her effort.
“Yes, please,” she mumbled.
“Okay, up you go.” You carefully slipped an arm around her small frame and helped her onto the couch. She settled beside you shyly, clutching her bunny tightly.
“What’s your name?” she asked after a pause, her big eyes curious.
“(Y/N),” you replied with a warm smile.
Sooyun turned to her father then, her little voice full of excitement. “Daddy… can I call her Aunt (Y/N)?”
You froze slightly, eyes darting toward Sunghoon in surprise. He raised a brow at you but didn’t seem as shocked as you. Instead, his lips twitched faintly like he was holding back a laugh.
“Only if she’s okay with it,” Sunghoon said, his voice low and smooth.
Sooyun immediately looked up at you expectantly, her small hands clutching her bunny tighter. “Can I?” she whispered.
You let out a soft laugh at her earnestness, reaching out to gently boop her nose. “Of course, darling. I’d love that.”
Sooyun beamed so brightly it nearly blinded you, her little legs swinging where they didn’t quite reach the floor. “Yay! Aunt (Y/N)!”
Sunghoon watched the interaction quietly, his dark eyes thoughtful. He wasn’t used to this—not to Sooyun smiling so fast, or to a stranger matching her energy so naturally.
Sooyun kicked her little legs slightly and tilted her head at you, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “Who’s your favorite Disney princess?”
You gasped softly, placing a finger on your chin in mock thought. “Hmm… probably Belle. Because she loves books, and she’s really kind. What about you?”
Sooyun’s eyes widened. She gasped so dramatically it made you giggle. “Mine too! I love Belle!”
“Really?” you smiled, eyes softening as you reached to fix the little flyaways of her ponytail. “Do you love books too, Sooyun?”
She nodded eagerly, hugging her stuffed bunny tighter. “I love picture books. We read lots of them at school.”
“That’s wonderful!” you said brightly. “If you don’t mind me asking… how old are you, sweetheart?”
Sooyun puffed out her cheeks proudly and raised six tiny fingers. “Six!”
“Six?!” you gasped playfully, clapping your hands together. “No way! You’re such a big girl already. Good job, baby.”
Sooyun beamed, leaning closer into your side.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon was still standing there silently, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the easy warmth between you and his daughter.
Finally, he cleared his throat.
“Well… I guess there’s no need for introductions,” he said smoothly. His deep voice startled you slightly, and you immediately straightened your posture, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear as your cheeks warmed.
“Oh—right. Sorry,” you murmured softly.
“Don’t be,” he replied, his tone softer this time. “Let’s go over a few things.”
You nodded quickly, and he gestured toward the kitchen. “Shall we?”
You stood, but not before Sooyun tugged gently at your sleeve, her big eyes staring up at you. “Can you carry me?” she whispered softly.
You melted on the spot, smiling as you scooped her up into your arms with ease. “Of course, baby. Come here.”
That earned you another shy grin as she tucked her little face against your shoulder, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck.
Sunghoon glanced at the scene, his brow raised slightly—not a word leaving his lips as his gaze lingered on the way Sooyun clung to you so effortlessly.
He said nothing as you followed him to the sleek, modern kitchen, Sooyun nestled comfortably in your arms. The space smelled faintly of coffee and citrus cleaner, the marble counters spotless.
He opened the massive stainless steel fridge with a quiet hum. “It’s usually stocked full like this since I don’t really cook… but I assume you do?”
“I do,” you said with a small smile, scanning the fridge briefly. It was neatly organized, full of fresh produce, bottled water, and neatly labeled containers. “It’s no problem at all.”
“Good,” he replied. “As for her routine—Sooyun eats almost everything except broccoli. She hates it, so don’t even try.”
You laughed lightly. “Noted. No broccoli. Anything else?”
“School ends at 12:00 PM. Her driver will bring her home unless I say otherwise. Bath time’s usually around 7:00 PM, bedtime at 8:00. She likes a story before bed.”
You nodded attentively, trying to commit each detail to memory.
“Good. That’s pretty much everything,” Sunghoon said, closing the fridge and leading you back to the living room.
He stopped near the couch, his dark eyes settling on you again. “I was going to ask if you preferred starting next week… but it looks like she already likes you.”
Sooyun, now leaning against your chest with her small hands clutching your sleeve, nodded eagerly. “I do!”
You laughed, smoothing her bangs with a fond look. “I wouldn’t mind starting early for this cutie.”
Sunghoon’s lips twitched—just barely—but it looked like the beginnings of a smile.
He stepped closer, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of Sooyun’s head. “Be good for (Y/N), baby.”
“I will!” she chirped. “We’re gonna have a blast, Daddy!”
Sunghoon straightened, meeting your eyes one last time. “Thank you.”
You nodded with a polite smile. “It’s no problem.”
He grabbed his coat from the armrest. “I won’t be too late. Call if anything comes up.”
“Of course,” you said softly.
“Good.” With that, Sunghoon strode toward the door, his presence somehow leaving the room a little colder once he stepped out.
It was already dark when the sound of laughter reached Sunghoon the moment he stepped into the manor. His brow furrowed slightly, a hand loosening his tie as he set his keys down by the door.
He followed the cheerful noise to the kitchen, and there you were—perched comfortably by the marble island, Sooyun sitting cross-legged on the counter in her little pink pajamas.
She giggled as you held up a tiny fork with roasted broccoli, your expression exaggeratedly sweet.
“Here comes the broccoli train—choo choo!” you teased.
Sooyun squealed before taking the bite with a grin. “Mmm! Cheesy broccoli is my favorite now!”
Sunghoon cleared his throat lightly from the doorway. “I’m here.”
You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning slightly to face him. “O-Oh! Good evening, Mr. Park—”
“Sunghoon,” he corrected smoothly as he strode closer, his voice warm but lined with exhaustion.
“Right… Sunghoon.” You gave him a sheepish smile.
“Hi, Daddy!” Sooyun beamed, kicking her little feet happily as she waved at him.
His gaze softened immediately as he stepped forward, loosening his jacket and leaning over to press a kiss to her temple. “Hi, princess. What’s all this?”
“Broccoli!” Sooyun declared proudly, lifting another piece from the plate.
“Broccoli?” Sunghoon blinked, his surprise clear. “You hate broccoli.”
“She likes them roasted with cheese,” you admitted with a small laugh, holding up the pan on the counter. “We did a little experiment. Turns out it’s all about the presentation.”
His eyes flicked to the pan, then back to you, something unreadable flashing in his gaze. “Huh. Impressive.”
You flushed faintly under his lingering stare, busying yourself with wiping your hands on a dish towel. “We also watched Disney movies and had spaghetti for lunch. There’s still some in the fridge if you’re hungry, Sunghoon.”
He raised a brow at the way you caught yourself but said nothing, only nodding faintly. “I’ll grab some later.”
“Daddy! Aunt (Y/N) makes the best spaghetti ever!” Sooyun chirped, her words making your heart skip.
Sunghoon’s brow quirked again. His lips curved—just barely. “I see.”
“Anyway, she’s already had her bath,” you added, eager to shift the focus. “Isn’t that right, missy?”
Sooyun lifted her little palm, and you leaned in to meet it with a high five. “All clean and ready for bed.”
“Good job.” Sunghoon’s voice was quiet as he watched the exchange, his dark eyes unreadable as they lingered on you holding his daughter like you’d been doing it for years.
You gave him a small, polite smile as you gently set Sooyun down on the counter. “Thank you. Um… it’s getting late. I think I should get going now.”
Sunghoon, still leaning against the counter, straightened slightly. “Do you have someone picking you up?”
You shook your head, trying not to sound sheepish. “No, but it’s okay. I’ll just call a cab or book a ride—”
“No.” His interruption was firm, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll drive you home.”
You blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Oh, no, really. I wouldn’t want to bother you—”
“It’s no bother,” he said simply, already moving to scoop up Sooyun who was rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Stay here. I’ll tuck her in first.”
Before you could protest again, he was already heading for the stairs, his tall figure disappearing up the hallway.
You stood there frozen for a moment, clutching your bag to your chest as the faint sound of his footsteps upstairs mixed with Sooyun’s sleepy murmurs.
He was back almost as quickly as he left, his sleeves now rolled up slightly and his hair a little tousled from leaning over his daughter’s bed. His dark eyes flicked to you. “Ready?”
You nodded slowly, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. “Uh… yeah.”
“Good.” His voice was unreadable as he strode past you, motioning toward the front door.
You followed him out to the driveway where his sleek black sports car gleamed under the soft glow of the porch lights. He walked ahead, reaching the passenger side first, and without hesitation, pulled open the door for you.
“Oh—” you stammered, startled by the gesture. “Thank you, Sunghoon.”
He didn’t say anything, only gave a faint nod, waiting patiently until you slipped into the seat. The leather smelled faintly of cedar and something else distinctly him—cool and clean.
By the time he rounded to the driver’s side and slid into his seat, you were nervously fiddling with the hem of your skirt.
He buckled his seatbelt with a smooth click and glanced at you briefly.
“Seatbelt,” he reminded gently, his tone softer now.
“R-Right.” You scrambled to pull it across your chest, cheeks warming as his eyes lingered for just a second longer than necessary before turning back to the road.
The car purred to life, the faint hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence.
“Is your address saved on your phone?” Sunghoon asked as he shifted gears, his hand resting casually on the wheel.
“Oh—yes! I’ll send it to you.” You quickly fumbled with your phone, trying not to let your fingers shake as you sent him your location.
“Got it.” He said, his eyes fixed ahead as he eased the car smoothly out of the driveway.
The car fell into a comfortable silence. The soft hum of the engine filled the space as you leaned your cheek on your propped-up hand, watching the world blur past through the window.
The streetlights painted fleeting golden streaks across your reflection in the glass.
The quiet didn’t last long.
“Thank you.”
You blinked, turning your head slightly to look at him. His face was calm, but his hands tightened around the steering wheel as he pulled to a stop at a red light.
“For what?” you asked softly.
“For taking the job.”
A small smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. “Sooyun’s a really sweet girl. You did a good job raising her, Mr. Park.”
He huffed out a laugh, low and dry. “If you mean my friends, then yeah.”
Your brows furrowed as you tilted your head. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, his eyes still fixed on the traffic lights as they shifted to yellow, then green. “Look—I’m not the sentimental type. So don’t expect me to burst into tears in gratitude.”
You chuckled lightly, your fingers tracing idle patterns on your skirt. “I’m not going to force anything out of you, Mr. Park.”
His jaw ticked as he clicked his tongue. “Sunghoon. Drop the ‘Mister.’ Makes me feel old.”
“Okay… Sunghoon.” You tested the name again carefully on your tongue, earning the faintest upward curve of his lips.
For a moment, you thought that was it. But then he spoke again, voice quieter now—almost like he wasn’t used to saying the words out loud.
“I’m… not the best father to my own daughter,” he admitted, his knuckles going a shade lighter as his grip on the wheel tightened.
“I’m always gone. Meetings, the rink, work—it feels endless sometimes. Without Heeseung and some of my other friends stepping in when I can’t, I’m pretty sure Sooyun would’ve started resenting me by now.”
You watched him carefully, your chest tightening at the rare vulnerability slipping through his normally calm exterior.
“She doesn’t resent you,” you said softly. “She adores you. Anyone can see it.”
He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Sooyun’s mom was never there either. Not even for the first year of her life.”
Your breath caught, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak at his own pace.
“We weren’t even together. It was… a one-night stand. She wanted nothing to do with Sooyun. And suddenly, there I was—with a week-old baby on my doorstep and no idea what the hell to do.”
His voice dipped lower, and you swore there was the faintest crack in it. “I didn’t think I’d ever figure it out.”
You fiddled with your fingers in your lap, then said gently, “But you did. She’s happy, she’s healthy, and she’s kind. That didn’t happen by accident, Sunghoon.”
He didn’t reply immediately. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, streetlights flashing across his sharp profile. After a moment, he let out a small hum—low and unreadable.
“I guess,” he murmured finally, his voice quieter than before.
You only smiled faintly, choosing not to press further as the car turned down another familiar street.
The silence settled again—not uncomfortable, but heavy, like there were still words lingering in the air that neither of you was ready to say.
The sleek black car slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building, the dim glow of the porch light casting a soft haze over the steps leading up.
“Oh—we’re here,” you said softly, unbuckling your seatbelt.
As you reached for the door handle, you hesitated, turning back to him with a polite smile. “Thank you for the ride, Sunghoon.”
His eyes met yours briefly in the darkness of the car, and for a moment it almost felt like time stretched. Then he gave a small nod, his expression unreadable.
“Get inside safe,” he said simply, his tone calm but firm.
You blinked at the unexpected softness before nodding. “I will. Good night.”
“Night.”
You stepped out into the cool night air, the faint sound of your shoes against the pavement filling the quiet. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you climbed the small set of stairs to your apartment door.
Sunghoon stayed parked, headlights dimmed, one hand on the wheel as he watched in his peripheral vision.
Only when he saw the door click shut behind you and the faint glow of your apartment lights flicker on did he finally let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Hmph…” he muttered to himself as he shifted the car into gear. The engine purred as he eased back into the road, fingers drumming once against the steering wheel.
“(Y/N), huh…” His voice was low, almost like he was testing the sound of your name on his tongue.
His lips twitched—maybe a smirk, maybe just a flicker of amusement—as he shook his head faintly to himself.
Sunghoon was used to the quiet. He liked it, even. It was the kind of silence that came from living in a house too big for just two people, where the only sounds were Sooyun’s occasional giggles or the faint hum of the fridge at night.
But these past three weeks? The quiet was gone.
And the strangest part? He didn’t mind.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he padded barefoot down the stairs, still in his plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He hadn’t even bothered to fix his bedhead—messy strands of soft black hair falling over his forehead—but he didn’t care.
The smell of pancakes hit him first. Sweet and warm, like brown sugar and childhood mornings. Then came the sound of soft laughter—your laugh.
His brow furrowed slightly, but there was no real annoyance in it as he stepped closer to the kitchen. He stopped at the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, and let himself watch for just a second.
You were standing at the counter, a pastel pink apron tied around your waist, sleeves rolled up as you held out a plate. Sooyun was carefully passing you strawberries from a little bowl, her tiny fingers sticky with juice.
“Thank you, baby,” you said with a bright smile, taking them and placing them neatly on a stack of golden pancakes.
Sooyun grinned, grabbing the next bowl—blueberries this time—and held them up to you like it was the most important job in the world.
“You’re such a good helper,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Sunghoon’s lips twitched—fighting off the smile threatening to tug at his mouth.
“Isn’t it a little early for you two to be this happy?”
Your head whipped around at his voice, eyes widening slightly before softening into a sheepish smile. There he was, leaning against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket, his dark eyes slightly lidded with sleep.
“Sorry,” you said with a small laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
He tilted his head faintly, his expression unreadable but not unkind. “Sooyun,” he drawled, his voice low and rough from sleep, “what time does your school start again?”
The little girl froze for half a second before glancing up at you like she was waiting for you to answer for her.
You crouched slightly to her level, smiling reassuringly. “It starts at seven, right, baby?”
Sooyun nodded quickly.
You straightened, giving Sunghoon a calm, practiced smile. “It’s only six twenty. We’ve got plenty of time, don’t we?”
Sooyun nodded again, her twin pigtails bouncing. “Plenty of time, Daddy.”
He let out a small huff of air—something between amusement and resignation—as he pushed off the doorframe and strode toward his daughter.
“Come here, princess.”
Sooyun’s face lit up as she waddled over to him, and he scooped her up effortlessly, settling her on his lap as he took a seat at the dining table. Her little arms curled instinctively around his neck.
“You’ve been busy this morning,” he said to her, brushing a crumb off her cheek.
“We made pancakes!” she declared proudly. “With strawberries and blueberries. Aunt (Y/N) said they’re healthy.”
Your cheeks warmed, but you managed a smile. “Hope that’s okay… she insisted.”
Sunghoon shook his head faintly, his lips pressing together—not in disapproval, but something unreadable. “I don’t,” he said simply.
You blinked, unsure how to take that, but before you could respond, Sooyun spoke up.
“Daddy, can you try the one with blueberries? Aunt (Y/N) made it so pretty!”
You used her distraction as a chance to lower your gaze, placing her plate gently in front of her before sliding Sunghoon’s across the table.
He murmured a quiet thank you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes, retreating slightly as you settled into the chair opposite him.
The three of you ate in near silence, the only sounds being Sooyun’s happy humming between bites and the faint clink of cutlery against plates.
Sunghoon sipped his coffee slowly, his dark eyes occasionally flicking toward you.
There was something different about you this morning, he noted. Something he couldn’t name.
You hadn’t been like this in the first week. Back then, you’d been polite but warm, exchanging small smiles and laughing with Sooyun easily. But over the past few days, there was a change.
You avoided his gaze now. You stepped away—barely noticeable, but enough for him to catch—whenever he got too close while reaching for Sooyun’s juice cup or helping her off the chair.
He wasn’t the type to care what people thought of him. Not with colleagues. Not with strangers.
So why did it irritate him now?
Why did it feel like you saw something in him—something dangerous or unworthy—and decided to keep your distance?
Was it the late-night confession in the car? The slip about Sooyun’s mother? He had let himself say too much, maybe.
He ran a thumb absentmindedly along the rim of his coffee cup, his jaw tightening as you rose from your seat to help Sooyun, who was now waddling toward the living room holding her little backpack.
“Aunt (Y/N),” Sooyun called sweetly.
You smiled and excused yourself softly, your chair scraping gently against the floor as you followed her out.
Sunghoon was left staring at the empty plates and the faint pink stain of strawberry syrup on his daughter’s now-vacant seat.
His fingers drummed against the table as he stared at nothing, mind racing.
Was he imagining it? Or had you already decided what kind of man he was and placed him in some unspoken box labeled keep distance?
He was still scowling at his coffee when Sooyun’s tiny voice floated back in.
“Bye, Daddy!”
He stood automatically, stepping out toward the foyer just as you were helping Sooyun into her little shoes by the door. The driver stood waiting patiently outside.
Sunghoon crouched slightly and pressed a kiss to Sooyun’s forehead, his voice softening in a way that still caught you off guard. “Be good, princess.”
She nodded eagerly. “I will! Bye, Daddy!”
“Bye, Aunt (Y/N)!” she added, beaming up at you.
You smiled, gently fixing the loose ends of her pigtails. “Bye, baby. Have fun at school.”
Together, the two of you watched as the car pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the road. Silence settled like a heavy blanket in the grand entryway.
You cleared your throat softly and glanced at him. “Don’t you have work today?”
His eyes didn’t leave the window. “It’s my day off.”
“Oh.” You nodded slowly, unsure what else to say. “That’s… nice.”
You hesitated for a moment before turning toward the kitchen. “I’ll just… clean up breakfast.”
Sunghoon didn’t reply. He only watched your retreating figure as you disappeared back into the kitchen, the faint sound of running water and clinking dishes soon filling the quiet house.
He ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. ‘What the hell is wrong with me?’
It had been another week.
Another week of you driving him absolutely insane.
At first, Sunghoon thought he could handle it—your soft laugh echoing through the house, your sweet scent lingering in every room you passed, your habit of brushing past him with a polite “excuse me” and never meeting his eyes for longer than two seconds.
But now? He was convinced you were doing it on purpose.
You avoided him like it was a sport—disappearing into Sooyun’s room, using her bath time or snack time as an excuse to flee any space where he happened to exist
And whenever you weren’t tending to his daughter, you were cleaning, reorganizing cabinets, folding laundry that didn’t even need folding.
It was late in the afternoon when he finally snapped out of yet another endless meeting, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes and sighing.
His glasses slid back on lazily as he stood, his shirt wrinkled slightly from hours of sitting. He pushed the sleeves of his black button-up to his forearms, exposing lean, veined arms as he rolled his shoulders.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
His bare feet made almost no sound against the polished stairs as he descended. He didn’t know why he went looking for you—not really. Maybe to scold you for avoiding him.
Maybe to—God help him—beg for a single conversation that didn’t involve Sooyun. Or maybe because he was weak, and he missed seeing you.
He didn’t expect the sight that greeted him in the kitchen.
You stood at the counter, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing across from you. Steam curled lazily from the kettle as you poured hot water into your mug, a little sigh leaving your lips as you stirred in honey.
The short silk skirt you wore rode high up your thighs, brushing dangerously against the tops of your socks—white knee-highs that looked so soft his fingers ached to tug them down slowly.
The oversized white sweater hung delicately off one shoulder, baring the smooth curve of your neck and collarbone to his hungry eyes.
Your hair was out of its usual bow, falling down your back in loose waves that made his hand twitch at his side. He wanted to thread his fingers through it, to pull it gently and watch your head tilt back—
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.
You jumped slightly at the sound of a deep voice cutting through your little bubble. When you turned, your eyes went wide.
“Mr. Park,” you said softly, the mug clinking against the counter as you set it down too fast. “I—sorry, I didn’t hear you come down.”
Sunghoon said nothing at first, just dragged the fridge door open and grabbed a bottle of water like he hadn’t just caught you wearing something straight out of his fantasies.
“Rough day?” he asked casually, his voice husky from hours of talking in meetings. He twisted the cap off and tilted his head back, gulping down a long sip.
His Adam’s apple bobbed with every swallow, and for some reason, you couldn’t look away.
You shifted your weight nervously. “You could… say that.”
He let the fridge door swing shut and leaned a hip against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. The way his muscles flexed under the rolled sleeves of his shirt made your breath hitch.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Your head snapped up. “I—I haven’t.”
“You have.” His dark eyes didn’t waver. “Every time I come into a room, you find a reason to leave. Is it something I did?”
You swallowed thickly. “No. It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?” His voice was quiet but dangerously low, the kind of tone that made heat bloom in your chest and rush down your spine.
You gripped your mug a little tighter, knuckles turning white. “I—”
“Do I make you uncomfortable, (Y/N)?” Sunghoon’s gaze sharpened, studying every twitch of your expression like he was dissecting you piece by piece.
You shook your head quickly. “N-No. Of course not. You don’t—”
You were already trying to excuse yourself, your voice tight, “I—I should check on Sooyun, I think she—”
He clicked his tongue, low and sharp, cutting you off mid-sentence. “She’s still at school.”
You froze.
“B-but—”
He stepped closer. Another step and the air felt heavier, thick with something you couldn’t name.
“You’ve been cleaning her stuff since morning,” he said, voice dropping lower, smooth as velvet but laced with something far more dangerous. “Folding, dusting, scrubbing… avoiding me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Another step.
Your back bumped into the counter, his shadow falling over you as his hands braced the countertop on either side of your hips, effectively caging you in.
You refused to meet his eyes, staring down at the mug like it might save you. But your breath came quicker, chest rising and falling beneath the loose sweater you wore.
“What’s your excuse this time, sweetheart?” His words came out like a low growl, soft but suffocating.
Your throat worked as you swallowed hard. “I… I don’t want to overstep.”
That made him laugh—a short, breathy sound that was more incredulous than amused.
“Overstep?” He tilted his head, his lips curling into something wicked. “I think we’re already past that, don’t you?”
You couldn’t answer. Your pulse was hammering in your ears, drowning out rational thought.
His long fingers reached for your chin, tipping it up gently but firmly until your eyes finally met his. The sharpness in his gaze nearly made your knees buckle—dark, hungry, and unbearably intense.
“Tell me, (Y/N)… are you here to be Sooyun’s babysitter…” he leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as his lips ghosted near your ear, “…or are you here to seduce me?”
Your eyes went wide. “I’m not—”
“Are you sure about that?” His voice was pure sin now, low and teasing as one of his hands dropped.
Fingers traced lightly along your thigh, stopping just where the hem of your skirt met your knee socks. He outlined the edge with the pad of his thumb, the touch feather-light but enough to make your stomach flip violently.
“You go outside looking like this every day?” His words were laced with mock reproach, his dark eyes sweeping over you again. “That little skirt, those socks…”
You nodded mutely, unable to find your voice.
“Do you know,” he murmured, his thumb brushing up slightly over your thigh now, “the amount of boys you’ve probably got hooked on you without even realizing?”
You shook your head, lips parting slightly as you struggled to catch a steady breath.
“Such a naive little girl.” The words dripped from his tongue, almost like a scolding. His fingers pressed just a little firmer at the top of your thigh, enough to send your head spinning.
“Mr. Park…” you whispered, voice trembling, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or a warning that you couldn’t handle what he was doing to you.
His smirk deepened as his other hand cupped your jaw fully, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.
“What am I going to do with you, huh?” he murmured, his voice dropping lower—silky, lethal, and so intimate it made your knees threaten to give out.
You met his eyes finally, heart pounding so hard it hurt. “Mr. Park… I’m not sure if this is a good idea…”
He clicked his tongue, the sound sharp and condescending as he leaned in closer, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.
“Tell me, (Y/N)… have you ever had a boy treat you right before?” His breath was hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
You hesitated, your hands tightening on the counter’s edge as you shook your head. “I-I’ve never… I’ve never had the time to.”
He chuckled darkly at that, a sound so low it vibrated in your chest. “Good.”
Before you could even process his answer, he surged forward. One strong arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you flush against his chest, while his other hand slid up to cradle your cheek.
You gasped at the sudden closeness, your mug nearly tipping over behind you. His scent—clean soap, faint cologne, and something distinctly male—flooded your senses.
“Mr. Park—”
Your words were swallowed whole as his lips crashed into yours.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t hesitant.
It was hungry.
His lips moved over yours with a bruising intensity, demanding and firm, like he’d been holding back for far too long.
Your gasp slipped between the kiss, and he groaned deep in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as his teeth nipped your lower lip, pulling just enough to make you whimper.
“Mr. Park—” you tried to say again, but it came out broken, caught between a gasp and his relentless mouth.
He pulled back just barely, his nose brushing yours as his eyes—dark and blown wide—held you captive.
“I told you to stop calling me that, sweetheart,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.
His hand left your cheek for only a second. You barely caught the flash of movement before his glasses clattered carelessly onto the counter beside you.
“Say my name.”
“Sunghoon—”
That was all he needed. His lips crashed into yours again, harder this time, his thumb tilting your chin just right so he could deepen the kiss. His other arm kept you caged against him, his hand splayed wide across your lower back like he was staking a claim.
You let out a small whimper as his tongue teased at your lower lip before slipping past, coaxing you to respond.
And when you finally did—tentatively at first, then with growing desperation—he groaned, low and sinful, like you’d just undone him completely.
“You have no idea,” he murmured hotly between kisses, “how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
Your head tilted back instinctively, a soft gasp escaping as his teeth grazed your skin.
Then, his voice—lower, rougher than you’d ever heard—broke through your daze.
“Jump.”
You blinked. “W-what?”
His hands gripped your thighs firmly, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. “I said jump.”
This time you didn’t think—you just obeyed, a startled sound leaving your lips as your legs wrapped around his waist.
“Good girl,” he muttered against your neck, his voice vibrating against your skin as he effortlessly hoisted you higher, your skirt riding up dangerously.
You could feel his strength in the way he carried you like you weighed nothing, his arms flexing beneath your thighs as his mouth never left you—kissing, nipping, leaving trails of heat down your throat.
“Sunghoon—” you gasped, hands clutching at his shoulders.
He didn’t answer. His only response was a low growl, his lips capturing yours in another searing kiss that stole every ounce of air from your lungs.
Somehow, he navigated through the hall with you clinging to him, barely breaking stride as he reached his bedroom.
The door swung open with a sharp shove, and before you could even glance around, it slammed shut behind him with a loud thud—his foot kicking it closed as he strode in.
You barely had time to catch your breath before you were laid down on the bed, his hands sliding from your thighs to your hips as he set you down with maddening care.
But the second your back hit the sheets, he was on you again.
Sunghoon braced himself above you, one hand cupping your jaw as his lips crashed back onto yours. The kiss was desperate now, his teeth tugging on your lower lip as if punishing you for every second you’d made him wait.
“You drive me insane, you know that?” he rasped between kisses, his breath hot and ragged.
Your fingers threaded into his hair instinctively, tugging gently, and the groan it pulled from him was nothing short of sinful.
“Do you have any idea,” he whispered harshly against your skin, his mouth trailing to your neck, “how hard it’s been—watching you walk around my house, in those little skirts, acting so damn sweet—”
“Sung—Sunghoon…” your voice broke into a moan as his teeth scraped lightly at your pulse point, his tongue soothing the sting a second later.
“Thought you were here to make my daughter happy…” he muttered against your neck, his voice low and full of something dark.
His hands slid up your thighs slowly, teasing the sensitive skin as your skirt bunched higher.
“…and you just had to drag me into it too, huh?”
Your breath hitched as his fingers curved around the swell of your ass, squeezing firmly. The sound you made—embarrassed, breathless—drew a low groan from his chest as his lips trailed down your neck.
“You’ve been playing with fire, sweetheart,” he whispered, his hands still gripping you possessively. “Walking around like this… looking at me like you’re innocent.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Arms up,” he interrupted sharply, his voice like velvet-wrapped steel.
Your eyes widened, but something in his gaze left no room for argument. You obeyed, raising your arms shakily.
“Good girl,” he murmured, the praise making your stomach flutter as his fingers hooked into the hem of your sweater.
In one fluid motion, he tugged it off, tossing it somewhere behind him without ever breaking eye contact. You felt the cool air kiss your skin, leaving goosebumps as you sat there in your lace bra.
Sunghoon stilled for a moment, his dark eyes sweeping hungrily over you.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice husky. “You’re so beautiful.”
Your cheeks burned under his gaze, but before you could speak, his hands reached behind you, fingers expertly unclasping your bra.
“Sunghoon—”
The garment fell away, and instinct took over. Your hands flew to your chest to cover yourself, but he caught your wrists gently but firmly, pinning them to the bed above your head.
“Don’t.” His tone was soft but commanding, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Don’t hide from me.”
You froze, your lips parting as he leaned down again.
“Let me see you,” he whispered, his eyes burning into yours.
His mouth descended, lips wrapping around one of your nipples while his hand moved to play with the other, fingers teasing and rolling gently. The sudden rush of heat shot through you so fast it made your back arch off the mattress.
“A-ah—Sunghoon—”
“You sound so pretty when you say my name like that,” he murmured against your skin, switching sides to give the same attention to your other breast.
You instinctively tried to close your legs, flustered by how exposed you felt, but his knee slid between them, pushing them apart effortlessly.
“Don’t do that either,” he muttered against your chest, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep them from closing.
You barely had time to catch your breath before his kisses began trailing lower.
Slow, torturous kisses down your stomach, his warm breath fanning over every new inch of exposed skin as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your skirt.
“Sunghoon—”
“Shhh.” His voice was low, thick with hunger. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”
With one smooth motion, he tugged your skirt down your legs, tossing it aside to leave you in nothing but your panties.
He paused for a moment, his dark gaze locked between your thighs like he was already imagining how you’d taste.
“Fuck…” he murmured under his breath, almost to himself. “You’re so pretty for me like this.”
You whimpered, instinctively trying to press your thighs together again, but his hands slid between them, pushing you wide open.
“Don’t hide from me,” he said again, firmer this time. “I want to see all of you.”
His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them aside just enough to bare you completely to his gaze. The cool air against your slick heat made you shiver.
“Already so wet,” he muttered darkly, his thumb grazing lightly over your folds. “You’ve been acting all shy, and this is what I find? Such a liar.”
“Sunghoon—please—”
“Please what, sweetheart?” His lips curved into a smirk as he kissed the inside of your thigh, teeth grazing gently. “Please stop? Or please keep going?”
Your back arched slightly, hands gripping the sheets as a whine slipped out.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.
Then, without warning, he dove in.
His tongue parted your folds in one slow, deliberate lick from base to clit, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.
“God—”
“Shit, you taste so fucking sweet,” he growled against you before latching onto your clit, his tongue flicking in slow, teasing circles that had your hips jerking.
“Sunghoon—ah—” Your voice cracked as his hands gripped your thighs, forcing them wider and holding you down like he wasn’t about to let you squirm away.
“Stay still,” he ordered roughly between licks. “Let me enjoy this.”
You felt his fingers join in, two of them sliding into your soaked heat with maddening ease as his tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit. The stretch made you cry out, your nails digging into the sheets.
“You’re tight,” he groaned, pumping his fingers slowly before curling them just right. “Bet you’d feel even better wrapped around my cock.”
Your walls clenched at his words, and he chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your most sensitive spot.
“Oh? You like the sound of that, sweetheart?” His tongue pressed flat against your clit before sucking gently, sending white-hot sparks shooting through your body. “You want me to fill you up, huh? Stretch this pretty little pussy until you can’t think?”
“S-Sunghoon—please—”
“Please what?” He smirked against your core, his pace unrelenting as your thighs trembled in his hold. “Use your words, baby.”
“I—I don’t—fuck—”
You couldn’t even finish the thought before your body locked up, heat flooding through you in a sharp wave as your climax crashed over you.
Your thighs trembled around Sunghoon’s head, but his strong hands kept you spread wide as his tongue continued its relentless assault.
“Shhh… there you go,” he murmured against your clit, his voice low and wrecked. “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me. God, you taste so fucking perfect.”
Your back arched off the mattress, fingers clutching desperately at the sheets as the pleasure spiraled, making you whimper his name over and over.
When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin were slick, his dark eyes glittering with pure hunger.
“You’re gorgeous like this,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss you. The taste of yourself on his tongue made you moan into his mouth, your body still shivering from the aftershocks.
As his mouth claimed yours, you barely noticed his hands working at the buttons of his black shirt, tugging it off his shoulders and tossing it to the floor.
He moved with purpose now—quickly unzipping his pants and pushing them down along with his boxers.
When he straightened back up, your eyes widened, lips parting in shock.
“Is… is that going to fit?” you stammered, staring at his length, thick and heavy in his hand as he stroked himself slowly, precum already glistening at the tip.
A low, deep laugh rumbled from his chest as he leaned forward, his thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip.
“It will, sweetheart. I got you,” he said softly, his tone dripping with reassurance. “We’ll take it slow, yeah? Let me take care of you.”
You nodded weakly, your thighs instinctively trying to press together again. But Sunghoon was already settling between them, his broad frame dwarfing yours as he lined himself up.
“Relax for me,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. “You’re so perfect. So fucking perfect.”
The blunt head of his cock rubbed through your folds, gathering your slick as he teased your entrance. The sensation made you whine, your hips twitching involuntarily.
“Shhh… it’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips. “Just a little stretch, yeah? I’ll go slow.”
Then he began to press in, inch by inch. The stretch burned slightly, your walls clenching instinctively around him as you let out a hiss.
“God—Sunghoon—”
“I know, I know.” His hand cupped your cheek tenderly as he stilled, letting you adjust. “You’re doing so good for me. So tight—fuck, I can feel every bit of you.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders as he kissed the corner of your mouth, his other hand stroking your thigh gently.
“Breathe, sweetheart. You’ve got me. I’m right here.”
When he finally bottomed out, buried fully inside you, he paused. His eyes softened at the sight of yours—glossy and overwhelmed, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Oh, sweetheart…” He cooed, thumb brushing your temple. “Take your time. Don’t rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
You nodded shakily, your hands gripping his shoulders as you whispered, breathless, “You… you can move.”
His eyes softened, his thumb stroking your cheek before his lips ghosted over yours. “You sure, sweetheart?”
“Yes…” you exhaled, your hips shifting slightly beneath him. “Please.”
That one word made something in him snap.
“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple as he slowly began to rock his hips.
The stretch burned at first, but then his thick length dragged against that perfect spot inside you, making your lips part in a moan.
“Fuck—you feel so good,” Sunghoon groaned, his voice husky and low as his pace stayed slow, deliberate. “So warm, so tight. Like you were made for me.”
The sound of skin slapping against skin soon filled the room, mingling with your breathy whines and his deep, guttural groans. Each thrust sent shocks of pleasure spiraling through you, your nails digging into his back as you struggled to hold on.
“Sunghoon—” you gasped, arching into him as his hips rolled deeper, the head of his cock brushing places that made your toes curl.
“Yeah, baby?” he panted, his lips pressing kisses down your neck between words. “Talk to me. Tell me how it feels.”
“So—so full—”
“That’s right,” he growled, his pace picking up slightly as your walls fluttered around him. “Taking every inch of me like such a good little girl.”
You raked your nails down his back at a particularly deep thrust, and he hissed, his hips stuttering for a moment.
“Shit—do that again,” he gritted out. “Mark me up. Don’t hold back, sweetheart.”
Your hands clawed at his shoulders, leaving angry red streaks in their wake, and Sunghoon’s groan turned into something feral.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered harshly, his pace now rougher, faster. “So fucking perfect for me. You hear that? Mine.”
“Y-yes—yours—”
“That’s it,” he praised, his thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip as his hips snapped harder. “Cum for me again, baby. Wanna feel you soak my cock.”
The knot in your stomach unraveled fast, your walls clenching tightly around him as you cried out his name.
“Sunghoon!”
“Fuck—there it is—goddamn,” he groaned, hips jerking as he buried himself deep one last time. His release spilled hot inside you, his breath ragged against your ear as his body trembled with the force of his climax.
He stayed like that for a moment, chest pressed to yours, both of you panting in the quiet room now thick with heat and the faint scent of sweat and sex.
“You did so good for me,” he murmured finally, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw as he slowly pulled out.
You whimpered at the loss, and Sunghoon hushed you gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I got you.”
Sliding off the bed, he disappeared into the bathroom, returning seconds later with warm towels. He cleaned you up carefully, his touch tender as his thumb brushed soothing circles on your thigh.
“Sunghoon…” you murmured, dazed and still trembling slightly.
“Shhh. Rest, baby.” He wiped himself down quickly before climbing back into bed with you, his fingers brushing stray hairs from your face.
You looked so perfect there—bare, flushed, glowing in the soft golden sunlight slipping in through the slightly open curtains.
He felt his chest tighten at the sight.
“You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, almost to himself, as his thumb traced your bottom lip.
Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, still hazy but soft. “Sooyun’s… almost done with school.”
A small smile tugged at his lips as he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.
“Do you want to pick her up together?” he asked softly, his voice warm and calm now.
You nodded, and he chuckled lightly, his fingers still stroking your cheek.
“Alright, sweetheart. But first…” He pulled you into his chest, tucking you against him as the sunlight bathed you both. “Let me hold you like this for a little longer.”
The sleek black car slowed as Sunghoon turned into the school’s parking lot, his hand casually resting on the gear shift. He parked smoothly, cutting the engine with a quiet sigh.
Without a word, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out. The afternoon sunlight caught in his hair, highlighting the strands of brown as he strode around the front of the car.
You fumbled with your seatbelt, but before you could even reach for the handle, the passenger door swung open.
“Come on,” Sunghoon said softly, his hand outstretched.
You blinked up at him, your heart fluttering at how natural this all felt. Sliding your hand into his, you let him help you out.
“Thank you,” you said with a smile.
His lips tugged upwards—barely noticeable, but it was there—as his thumb brushed against yours briefly before he let go to shut the door.
As he fell into step beside you, his presence steady and grounding, he gently placed his palm on your lower back, guiding you toward the parents’ waiting area.
But before either of you could even speak, the sound of quick, tiny footsteps broke through the hum of other parents chatting.
“Daddy! Aunt (Y/N)!”
You looked down just in time to see Sooyun barreling toward you both, her little backpack bouncing wildly with each step.
“Hi, baby!” you greeted, crouching slightly with a wide smile.
“Hi!” she beamed up at you, her little face glowing with excitement before turning her attention to her father.
“Daddy, carry me!”
Sunghoon’s expression softened instantly as he bent down, scooping her up in one arm with practiced ease.
“Gotcha, princess,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hairline.
Sooyun giggled, clutching her tiny arms around his neck as you straightened. Without thinking, Sunghoon’s free hand found yours again, fingers intertwining effortlessly as he started walking back toward the parking lot.
It felt natural. Like this was always meant to be. The three of you—together.
As you reached the car, Sunghoon set Sooyun down gently, ruffling her hair as she tugged her backpack straps back into place.
She looked up at you suddenly, her big eyes blinking.
“Can I sit with you at the front, Aunt (Y/N)?” she asked sweetly, her voice hopeful.
You glanced at Sunghoon, unsure if he’d be okay with that, but he gave you a single nod—subtle, approving.
Your heart warmed as you crouched again, holding your arms out. “Of course, baby. Come on, I’ll carry you.”
Sooyun squealed happily as she ran into your arms, and you lifted her with a soft laugh, adjusting her on your hip as Sunghoon opened the passenger door for you both.
“Let’s get you buckled up, yeah?” you said softly, kissing the crown of her head as she leaned against you contentedly.
Sunghoon’s eyes lingered on the two of you for a moment longer than necessary, his expression unreadable but warm.
And then, as if nothing had shifted—when in truth, everything had—he turned back toward the car, opening the door for you both.
The drive back was quiet, Sooyun’s little head resting against your shoulder as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through her hair.
Every so often, Sunghoon’s gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, catching glimpses of you two together, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips each time.
Now, hours later, the three of you were curled up in the living room. A thick knit blanket was draped over you and Sooyun, who had snuggled firmly into your side with her small hand clutching your sweater.
‘The Little Mermaid’ played softly on the TV, the bluish glow of the screen painting the room in gentle hues.
Sunghoon was stretched out on the other side of the couch, his long legs crossed at the ankle, a mug of tea cooling on the coffee table in front of him.
His hair was slightly messy now, his black sweatshirt hanging loose on his frame.
As Ursula sang her climactic reprise, Sunghoon leaned forward slightly, his brows furrowed as he whispered,
“How did Eric not notice that it wasn’t Ariel? I mean, her whole voice was gone, but come on…”
You stifled a laugh, pressing your lips together.
Sooyun, however, wasn’t as amused. She sat up slightly, her little brows knitted together as she shushed him fiercely. “Shhh! Watch, Daddy!”
Sunghoon raised his hands in mock defeat, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Okay, okay—my bad, princess. I’ll be quiet.”
You let out a soft laugh at the exchange, shaking your head as you said teasingly, “That’s not very nice, Sooyun. Poor Daddy.”
Sooyun’s stern expression faltered, her lips twitching as she sheepishly muttered, “Sorry, Daddy…”
“That’s better,” Sunghoon chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her bangs.
You smiled as you gently brushed her fringe away from her eyes, tucking it back as she settled in against your side once more, her attention glued to the screen.
From his spot, Sunghoon watched the way you handled her—so gentle, so natural. It pulled at something deep in his chest, a warmth he wasn’t prepared for.
“She really, really likes you,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the movie.
Your gaze flickered to him, the TV’s glow catching the sharp lines of his jaw, the softness in his eyes. You gave him a quiet smile, your voice equally tender.
“It’s a good thing I took up this job then, yeah?”
He huffed a quiet laugh, the sound low and warm as his eyes crinkled. “Yeah… yeah, it really is.”
There was a pause, something settling between the two of you like a secret too precious to name. Then he leaned his head against yours, his dark hair brushing your temple as his hand rested loosely across his stomach.
Sooyun yawned suddenly, the little sound pulling both your gazes down to her. Her eyes fluttered sleepily, her grip on your sweater loosening as she shifted closer to your side.
“She’s out,” you whispered with a small laugh, your heart melting at the sight of her soft, peaceful face.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. “And she looks perfect.”
You blinked back the warmth pooling in your eyes, brushing a stray lock of hair from Sooyun’s forehead as you whispered, “Should I tuck her into bed?”
Sunghoon’s gaze shifted from his daughter to you, something unreadable flickering across his face before he stood, stretching slightly.
“I’ll come with you,” he said quietly, reaching for the remote to pause the movie.
Carefully, you adjusted your hold on Sooyun, her little arms still loosely wrapped around your neck as she slept soundly against your shoulder. Standing slowly, you tried your best not to jostle her.
Sunghoon’s hand instinctively went to your lower back, steadying you as you moved, his touch warm even through the fabric of your sweater.
Together, you walked up the staircase, the soft creak of each step the only sound between you.
When you reached her room, Sunghoon pushed the door open gently, the faint glow of the hallway spilling across the pale pink walls.
You stepped inside carefully, the scent of her vanilla-scented nightlight already filling the space.
The little girl’s room was as dreamy as her personality—tiny stuffed animals arranged neatly on a shelf, her small bed framed by a sheer canopy.
Sunghoon moved ahead of you, switching on her pink bunny-shaped nightlight so the room was bathed in a soft, comforting glow.
You lowered Sooyun onto her bed as delicately as possible, tucking her under the pastel comforter. She shifted slightly, a little sigh escaping her lips, but didn’t wake.
You were smoothing the blanket over her small frame when her voice, sleepy and soft, broke the stillness of the room:
“Night night, Daddy… night night, Mommy…”
Your breath hitched.
You froze, your wide eyes darting to Sunghoon. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his hands resting loosely in his pockets. His lips parted slightly at the sound of her words, but then… a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
The look he gave you made your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. It was warm. Gentle. Almost longing.
He didn’t correct her. Didn’t laugh. Instead, he leaned down, brushing his lips softly against Sooyun’s forehead.
“Night night, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and tender.
You swallowed hard, willing the lump in your throat to ease as tears pricked your eyes. Slowly, you brushed your fingers through Sooyun’s hair, your voice coming out shakier than you wanted.
“Sweet dreams, baby girl,” you whispered with a soft smile, even as you blinked rapidly to keep the tears from spilling.
Sooyun moved again, already drifting deeper into sleep, her small hand clutching the edge of her blanket.
You lingered for a moment, staring down at her peaceful face before forcing yourself to step back. Sunghoon was waiting by the door, his dark eyes still fixed on you.
When you met his gaze, there was a softness there that made it almost impossible to breathe.
Sunghoon’s lips curved into the faintest smile as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
Without a word, his hand slid gently around your waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through your sweater.
You sat comfortably on the bleachers, one hand resting on the curve of your very pregnant belly while the other balanced a thermos of warm tea on your thigh.
Your eyes followed Sunghoon as he glided effortlessly across the ice, giving calm instructions to a group of young skaters. His voice carried even from where you sat—firm yet gentle.
But your attention drifted just a little as two very familiar figures hovered by the rink’s edge.
Sooyun—now fifteen and nearly the spitting image of her father—skated gracefully, her hand clasped protectively around the chubby fingers of her little brother, Sangwon.
At five years old, he was a carbon copy of Sunghoon: jet-black hair, doe eyes, and even that little furrow of concentration as he tried to balance himself on the ice.
“Careful, Sangwon,” Sooyun murmured, adjusting her grip as his tiny skates wobbled dangerously.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, the warmth spreading in your chest as you slowly stood, your free hand bracing the small of your back.
The weight of your belly made you move carefully, but there was a soft contentment in it now. You strolled toward the low door by the rink’s edge, calling out in a gentle tone,
“Be careful, you two. Don’t pull each other down.”
Sooyun looked up, her face brightening at the sight of you. She carefully guided Sangwon toward you, her long hair bouncing as she skated.
“Mom, don’t strain yourself,” she said quickly, eyeing your belly with exaggerated concern.
You laughed softly, smoothing a hand over the dress that hugged your rounded figure. “I’m not disabled, Sooyun. Relax.”
She pouted as she helped Sangwon step clumsily through the little door. His tiny arms immediately wrapped around your legs.
“Hi, Mommy!” he chirped up at you, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold.
You ruffled his hair, leaning down slightly with a grin. “Hi, baby. Were you skating like a big boy?”
Before Sangwon could answer, a familiar voice drawled behind you. “Careful there, pregnant lady. One fall and Sunghoon’s gonna kill all of us.”
You turned sharply, rolling your eyes at the sight of Heeseung strolling toward you in his oversized coat, hands shoved into his pockets, a smirk plastered across his face.
“Shut up, Heeseung,” you shot back playfully, though you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out.
“Uncle Heeseung!” Sangwon and Sooyun beamed in unison, their faces lighting up as two more figures appeared from behind him.
“Hi, Aunt (Y/N)!” chirped Hamin and Hyunmin—Heeseung’s twin nephews who were the same age as Sooyun.
“Hamin, Hyunmin,” you greeted them warmly with a smile, waving as the pair grinned back.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sooyun warned, narrowing her eyes at the twins as they exchanged mischievous looks. But it was too late.
With a yelp, Sooyun found herself being tugged back toward the ice by the two boys.
“What are you two doing?!” she shrieked, her skates scraping against the rubber mat as they dragged her through the little door.
“They’re gonna get it,” you murmured with a grin, watching the chaotic trio vanish back onto the rink.
“That’s what happens when they team up,” Heeseung said with a smirk, leaning casually against the small doorframe.
A sudden presence made you glance to your left—Sunghoon, holding his gloves in one hand, his brow slightly raised as he watched the three teens scuffle on the ice. “What’s going on with those three?”
You shook your head with a soft laugh, waving it off. “Let the kids be kids, yeah?”
“Yeah,” came another voice from behind, deeper and teasing.
All three of you turned as Jake sauntered in, scarf loose around his neck, and eyes crinkling with amusement.
“Uncle Jake!” Sangwon squealed, breaking into a run across the floor. Jake didn’t miss a beat, scooping the boy up with a practiced ease.
“My favorite nephew,” Jake declared dramatically, pressing a loud kiss to Sangwon’s cheek, making him giggle.
“Hey, what about us?” Hamin called out from the rink.
“Second and third favorite nephews,” Jake called back, earning a chorus of groans from the twins as Sooyun cackled at them.
Sunghoon’s eyes flicked briefly to you, and his lips curled into the faintest of smiles—the kind he reserved only for these quiet, domestic moments.
“You shouldn’t be standing too long,” he murmured, stepping a little closer as his hand brushed lightly against your elbow.
You looked up, cheeks warming as you let him guide you back to the bleachers. “I’m fine. Don’t fuss.”
Sunghoon only huffed, his jaw tight as he stepped off the ice and onto the rubber mat. His hand didn’t leave yours as he carefully eased you down onto the bleacher seat.
“You’re not fine. You’re eight months pregnant and acting like you’re still twenty-one with no responsibilities.”
You groaned, throwing your head back slightly as you adjusted your dress over your belly. “You’re so dramatic. I wasn’t even standing for that long.”
Before Sunghoon could retort, Jay approached with his hands shoved in his pockets, his brows raised in amusement at the sight of his brooding friend fussing over you.
Behind him, Heeseung and Jake exchanged knowing smirks.
“Careful there, Sunghoon,” Heeseung called out, his voice laced with teasing. “Don’t anger the pregnant lady. She might swing first.”
Jake barked out a laugh, clapping Heeseung on the back. “Or worse, she’ll make you sleep on the couch.”
Sunghoon shot them both a sharp glare that could slice through glass.
“Do you two want an angry punch to your faces instead?” His voice was calm, too calm, the kind of calm that carried a quiet warning.
Jake raised both his hands in mock surrender, laughter still rumbling in his chest. “Relax. If it wasn’t for us, you wouldn’t have met (Y/N) in the first place. You’re welcome for literally changing your life.”
Heeseung leaned casually against the railing, grinning. “Yeah, you should be thanking us. Maybe even buying us dinner for setting the wheels in motion.”
Still gripping your hand, Sunghoon glanced down.
His thumb brushed against the massive diamond engagement ring glittering on your finger—the one perfectly paired with the equally dazzling wedding band. His lips curved faintly, just enough to make you catch it.
“Yeah…” he muttered, his voice soft but laced with that usual edge. “I should thank you assholes. You changed my life.”
You looked at him then, meeting his gaze as your own cheeks warmed under the intensity of it. He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb tracing circles over your knuckles.
You smiled, tilting your head. “What?”
Sunghoon shook his head slightly, but there was the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nothing,” he murmured.
Then, louder, he turned to the men still loitering near the rink door. “Do you guys want to eat dinner at our place?”
Heeseung’s grin was immediate, bright and wolfish. “Sure, I’ll call Heedo and let him know he’s babysitting tonight.”
He was already pulling out his phone, scrolling like he’d been waiting for an excuse.
Jake smirked, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “Free food and I get to harass Sunghoon in his own house? Count me in.”
You chuckled softly, watching the easy banter as Sunghoon straightened up and called out, “Sooyun—come on, let’s go!”
From across the rink, Sooyun’s yelp echoed as Hamin and Hyunmin grinned devilishly, tugging her between them like she was some kind of prize.
“Let go of me, you little brats!” she scolded, though her laughter betrayed how unbothered she really was.
You couldn’t help but laugh, your hand resting protectively over your belly as the trio skated off the ice toward you. Sooyun’s hair was slightly messy, her cheeks flushed pink from both embarrassment and exertion.
“Keep your nephews away from my daughter, Heeseung,” Sunghoon warned, his voice low but edged with amusement as he watched the scene unfold.
Heeseung didn’t even flinch. In fact, his grin grew wider as he pocketed his phone. “Why? At least you’ll know she’ll have good-looking kids when she marries one of them.”
You nearly choked on your own laugh as Sunghoon’s brows shot up. He turned slowly to Heeseung, his hand tightening slightly around yours.
“Heeseung,” he said flatly, “do you want me to throw you into the rink? Because I will.”
Jake burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Oh man, I’m staying for this drama.”
Sooyun finally managed to break free from the twins’ grasp, rushing to your side as Sangwon hugged her legs.
And as Sunghoon’s eyes found yours across the commotion, that quiet, tender smile of his made your heart swell—it felt like home.
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© 2025 liuhsng — reblogs are highly appreciated and please don’t hesitate to request some fics here if you want me to write anything !
Upcoming work!! - want to read more?
anal & semi public with sunghoon (in dorms)
cannibal!jay x eater!reader [bones and all inspired]
somno & noncon with sub!jake (established relationship)
face fucking with heeseung
incest with sunghoon [victorian era setting]
feet worship with sub!jake
humiliation with jay (impact play, degradation, face fucking, ball sucking)
please note that these work are either not currently started or in progress and will be posted in random order. writing is a creative process that requires time and ideas. in a perfect world i'd love to be done with theses by the end of the year but it probably wont be the case :)
interact with this post to be tagged!!
the giver | s.jy
“ain’t no country boy quitter, i get the job done.”
📀now playing: the giver by chappell roan
❯ summary: Something doesn’t sit right when Jake hears his childhood best friend’s back in town. It’s worse when he finds out your city-boy boyfriend dumped you. But what really sends him over the edge is learning that the asshole never got you off once during your entire relationship. And as a self-proclaimed giver… Jake’s pretty damn set on fixing that himself.
❯ pairings: cowboy!jake x fem!reader
❯ genre: childhood best friends to lovers
❯ words: 6.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, slight jealousy, mentions of a break up, alcohol consumption, oral sex (fem!receiving), male masturbation, praise, pet names, hair pulling, just jake getting the job done yeehaw!
Two years ago, Jake would’ve lit up like a damn Christmas tree at the news that his best friend was back in town. He means, not to be that person, but he did always say city life wasn’t meant for a girl like you.
You. His ranch partner-in-crime. His middle-school mud-pie sous-chef. The girl who beat him in every horseback race. The country ran through your blood. There was no debate. That’s why he can still remember guffawing (and yes, he’s using that word on purpose, because his laugh was that loud and that ugly) the first time you told him you were talking to a guy from the city.
Because come on. This was you. The same girl who once swore you’d marry your horse before marrying any boy in your class. Jake remembers the way his chest went all tight that day. Though he didn’t have a name for that feeling at ten.
But at twenty-four, watching you talk to this city guy for over a year (a guy Jake met once on FaceTime and immediately pegged as a preppy, cologne-wearing asshole), he’s found the word. Irritation. Hot, stupid irritation because there is no punchline.
You and city boy Soobin are not a joke.
Which is ridiculous in his opinion. Truly. Because Jake knows, somewhere deep in that dusty, denim-covered chest of his, that Soobin is not right for you. But how exactly is he supposed to say that without sounding like the jealous cliché from every Hallmark movie you force him to sit through?
“Sorry, Y/N, but a girl like you doesn’t belong with a guy like that”?
Yeah. No. Jake might be a rough around the edges ranch hand with a tractor tan, but he’s not a complete idiot. He did graduate high school—not to brag. And he’s seen enough rom-coms against his will to know that the guy who says something like that is always the villain.
So, he’s kept his mouth shut. Literally. He’s opted to let his jaw tick like a bomb every time you mentioned getting serious with your city-boy fool. His mama always told him that if he didn’t have anything nice to say, he shouldn’t say it at all. And Jake has absolutely nothing nice to say about Soobin.
Not even when you said you were moving across city lines to live with the guy. He thought it was ridiculous. Not just because you hadn’t met him properly yet—in person, without a pixelated face and the chance to see if he's a bad kisser—but because you were moving a thousand miles away.
You might as well have said you were relocating to Mars. To Jake, it was all the same distance. Far. Gone. Apart. Because there had never been a version of his life that didn’t include you.
You both grew up in a town so small the high school graduating class barely filled a bus. What was he supposed to do without you—make friends with Jungwon? Please. He’s seen that boy ride a horse. Any kind of race against him would be light work, and Jake’s pride couldn’t take constant pity victories. He needed challenge. He needed you.
How was he supposed to function when you’d always just… been there? Like the creaky front porch. Like the crickets after dark. Like the coffee mug his mother refuses to throw out. You packing up and leaving felt like somebody scooped out a piece of him and mailed it straight to the city.
And now—like he said—two years ago, the news of your return would’ve made him happy. Finally, that missing piece would come back to the sender. But standing on his parents’ front porch, watching you climb out of that little rental car in your city jeans (tight as sin, might he add) with a wine bottle dangling from your fingers, strangely, he doesn’t feel happy.
He feels dread. A deep, gut-twisting kind of dread.
Because whatever brought you back here is bad. He can see it in the wrongness of your smile and your stiff shoulders. In your red, raw eyes that look like they’ve suffered too many sleepless nights.
You’re upset.
And Jake hates seeing you upset. Always has.
“You miss me, Amateur?”
Your voice carries across the gravel drive. Bright. Teasing. Far too sweet for someone who is visibly not okay. It’s the same tone and the same nickname you used to call him when you’d lap him at the summer fair barrel races. He used to hate that voice. But he’s missed it too. Probably more than he should admit.
“Still got that mouth on you, huh?” Jake snorts and drags a hand down his face, stepping down from the porch.
The board under his boot complains with that long, theatrical creak that’s been threatening to snap since you were kids. His parents really should get it fixed, but he loves that it still sounds the same. Reliable. Like it’s been waiting for the two of you to come back and stomp all over it again.
He stops at the bottom step. “How’ve you been, Hotshot?”
You shrug and walk toward him. When did he get taller? Or broader? Or whatever this new unfair configuration is? Two years shouldn’t make such a difference, but apparently it’s enough time for him to outgrow every mental snapshot you kept of him.
He’s filled out that black t-shirt to an unreasonable degree. The fabric is clinging for dear life, stretching across his chest, and his arms… his arms. His biceps have biceps. Who does he think he is? The Hulk? It’s not even like he runs the ranch full-time. He works part-time. There is absolutely no reasonable explanation for his forearms to look like that!
As if he can feel you staring—and judging—Jake shifts his weight. His mouth twitches into that half smile he does, the one that always looks like he’s trying not to laugh at you. It snaps you back to reality. To where you are. To who he is.
“Meh,” you say finally, lifting the bottle dangling loosely in your hand. “Been better. But I’d much rather talk about it over this.”
“Wine?” Jake raises a brow. “What’s the label—” he leans in, squints, “—Château Margaux? You gone posh on me, Hotshot?”
You scoff. Naturally. Then you shoulder past him and head up his porch steps, push open his front door without pausing, and march straight for his parents’ kitchen.
“If you must know,” you call over your shoulder, hearing him follow, “Gramps turned ninety last month, and this was the only alcohol left that I could find under the sink.”
Jake lets the screen door fall shut behind him. The loud thwap echoes through the empty house. “A birthday gift, huh? Must’ve been from someone who doesn’t know him. Your grandpa only drinks beer.”
You pause, fingers worrying the wine label. “Yeah,” you say after a moment. “But Soobin insisted we send it. Said it was more sophisticated than a six pack of Fosters.”
Continuing, you slip into a perfect city accent. Crisp consonants. Over-enunciated vowels. Jake’s jaw ticks like a clock.
“‘He’s ninety, Y/N. Your grandpa deserves something nice,’” you mimic. “Which is hilarious, because that was months ago and the bottle’s still untouched. My parents probably got a shock and a good laugh when they pulled it out of the gift bag.”
Jake huffs out a quiet laugh. “Bet they did.”
You hum and turn toward the window, starting to tug open his cabinets. You move through the kitchen like you never left. You remember everything: the sugar jar that’s actually filled with sweetener because his dad’s diabetic, the top cupboard with the squeaky hinge, the drawer that only opens if you give it two good tugs. (One tug if you’re built like the cowboy behind you.)
Jake leans a shoulder against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you rummage through his parents’ kitchen like it’s a scavenger hunt map. “You’re looking for what exactly?” He asks.
“Your ma has to have wine glasses somewhere,” you mutter, stretching onto your toes and checking the highest shelf.
Jake blinks. Then, unexpectedly, he breaks into laughter. It rumbles low in his chest, deep and easy. It should coax a smile out of you. But it doesn’t. And when you stay facing the cabinets, opposed to turning around and joining him, Jake frowns.
“Wait. You’re serious?”
Now you twist around, unimpressed. “Does she or not?”
“Y/N.” His voice dips into that familiar drawl. “We’re a beer family. Cans. Not fancy glasses. I don’t think my parents have held a wine glass since their wedding day.”
You sigh dramatically, even though your lips twitch with a nearly-there smile. Because he does have a point. Jake’s family have always been loud, rowdy, and unapologetically themselves. You spent half your childhood here, soaking it all in. Running barefoot in the dirt. Catching fireflies. Watching his parents slow dance on the porch with beer cans in their hands. You’re almost sure that’s where your own wild streak was born.
Though lately, you feel a little disconnected from that older version of yourself.
But even with that disconnected heaviness settling in your chest, you still find yourself cross-legged on his parents’ old, tattered couch. Drinking wine out of his mother’s favourite coffee mug—the one with the chipped handle and faded yellow zigzags—because, as Jake reminded you, country folk are not in the business of wine glasses.
The windows are cracked open, letting in the soft hum of crickets and the sweet, green scent of freshly cut grass. The TV murmurs in the background with a football game Jake isn’t even pretending to watch. And it’s nice. For the first time in a long while, you feel something you haven’t felt since leaving.
Steady.
You take your last sip of wine and set the mug on the coffee table. “Your ma should really throw this thing away before someone loses a finger.”
Jake chuckles, reaching for his beer—a can, obviously. “You sound like my dad. He hates that mug.”
You smile. “Where are they anyway?”
Jake’s nose scrunches up like he’s smelled something bad. “I really don’t like to think about it, but it’s their twentieth anniversary.”
You light up. “Shut up. Mr. and Mrs. Sim—twenty years? That’s adorable. Are they on a little romantic retreat?”
“Stop it, Hotshot.” He groans, grabs a throw pillow, and hurls it at your head.
You catch it, laughing as it settles in your lap. “You know, my Nonna always said sex was the greatest foundation for marriage.”
Jake nearly chokes on his beer. “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” he sputters, setting the can down before he drops it.
You dissolve into laughter—full-bodied, head-tipped-back laughter—and Jake can’t even pretend to be annoyed. He’s just staring. Watching you like he’s terrified you’ll vanish if he blinks. His heart does that stupid teenage thing it’s been doing since he was fifteen, tripping all over itself and beating too fast, too hopeful. Because you’re back. Really back. And for the first time in two long years, the ranch feels like it’s remembered how to breathe.
“I’m serious, though,” you say, still struggling to contain your giggles. A snort slips out, and Jake grins like he’s been waiting his whole life to hear that exact sound again. “She said good sex, like really good, can fix anything.”
“Funny,” Jake mutters, shaking his head. “My Nonna said good communication is what makes a relationship work.”
“Pfttt.” You wave him off. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be back in my childhood bedroom filled with One Direction posters, drinking wine with my best friend to get over my shitty ex.”
Jake’s entire body goes still. And just like that, the air shifts.
This is what he’s been dreading. The reason he hasn’t asked questions, hasn’t pushed, hasn’t even let himself think too hard. He knows you. Knows how quickly you shut down when someone pries. So he’s been waiting, walking on eggshells, pretending not to care, while every part of him has been dying to know what dragged you all the way home.
And now he has his answer. Soobin. That city-boy asshole has made you cry. Jake feels his grip tighten around his beer until the aluminium crumples beneath his fingers.
He clears his throat, nudging the floor with the toe of his boot. “That why you’re back, huh?”
You freeze. Colour blooms across your cheeks like you didn’t even mean to say it. Like you’d give anything to scoop the words out of the air and swallow them back down.
“It’s, uh… well—it’s complicated.”
Jake hums slowly. “Doesn’t have to be.” He tilts his head. “Nothing’s ever been complicated for us. If you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to?”
Your throat tightens. Because he’s right. He’s always been right. And him—this house, this couch, this quiet—is exactly why you came here first. When you landed and smelt the small town air and wild sage, you didn’t think. You didn’t stop at the corner store to grab his favourite beer. You didn’t even go inside your own house for more than thirty seconds.
You just grabbed a bottle and came straight here.
To your safe place.
To him.
Because even after everything (leaving, Soobin, pretending you’d outgrown this town) you never stopped needing Jake. And sitting here now, barefoot on his mama’s couch, drinking your grandpa’s birthday wine out of a chipped mug, you feel it deep in your bones.
You’re home. You can finally get it off your chest.
You suck in a slow breath, bracing yourself. “We broke up.”
Jake blinks at you, deadpan. “Thanks, Y/N. I had absolutely no idea. Glad you cleared that up.”
“Okay, smartass.” You grab the pillow in your lap—the one he threw earlier—and launch it back at him.
He catches it cockily with one hand before tossing it right back. And just like that, it’s there again. The old, effortless rhythm the two of you fall into like muscle memory. It’s why he’s your best friend. Because even now, with worry tightening his jaw, he’s trying to keep things light. Jake Sim has always hated the sight of you hurting.
“Okay… what I meant was…” You swallow hard. “He—uh. Dumped me.”
Jake’s expression changes instantly. His jaw flexes, muscles tugging tight at the hinge. You hear something suspiciously like “asshole” get muttered under his breath.
“What dumbass reason did he give you?” he finally asks. There’s something protective in the way he says it.
You hate that you notice it because it only makes this part (the part you’d hoped to avoid) more strenuous. You groan and bury your face in your hands.
“It’s embarrassing.”
The tension snaps right back into his shoulders. “Y/N?”
You peek out between your fingers. “I’m serious. If I tell you, it crosses like… every friendship boundary ever created.”
Jake’s lips twitch. “Even more than when I told you I got soft during my first blow—”
“LALALALALA!” You slap your hands over your ears. “I have that memory blocked out, thank you very much.”
Jake laughs, and then he shifts on the couch—closer, close enough that his knee brushes yours. He reaches out, takes your wrists gently, and pulls your hands away from your ears.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
You look up. He’s closer than you realised—so close you can smell the warm soap on his skin and that faint trace of hay that somehow never leaves him. He wets his lips, eyes softening as he lifts your hand. His fingers brush your palm, then start tracing slow, absentminded circles.
It’s something he used to do when you were kids during sleepovers, whenever nightmares pulled you awake. He’d take your hand, draw lazy circles until you drifted off again. Comfort. Safety. You’d fall asleep on the living room floor, curled side by side, his parents never the wiser. Which, in Jake’s mind, meant success—because it meant you didn’t have to go home.
“Come on, Hotshot,” he says gently. “Talk to me. You know this has always been a judgment-free zone.”
And damn him—because when Jake looks at you like that, pulpy and stable and understanding, you feel your guard buckle. It’s impossible to pretend you’re fine. Not with him.
Exhaling a long and shaky breath, you say: “Itoldhimhecouldn’tmakemecum.”
Jake’s eyes flash before his brows pull together. “Try again. Slowly this time, Y/N. You and I both know I didn’t catch a single word of… whatever that was.”
You glare. “I said—I told him he couldn’t…” You wave a helpless hand. “Makemecum.”
“Y/N.” His tone drops to a warning. Which is exactly why you blurt:
“For fuck’s sake! I told my boyfriend that in the three years we’ve been dating, he has literally never once made me orgasm. Ever. There. You got all that?”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Jake just…stares. Then his eyes flicker. Then he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but instead his brain malfunctions before words can properly form. Like a fish. It would be funny if you weren’t currently dying of mortification.
You reach for your mug out of sheer uncomfortable desperation, only to remember it’s empty—because obviously the universe hates you. You set it back down and force your spine straight, trying to reclaim what is left of your dignity with your chin lifted.
“He—uh—” Jake clears his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Not once?”
You shake your head. “Not unless I, you know…” You make a vague gesture between your thighs. “Played with myself a little too…while he was—”
“Yeah. I understand what you mean,” Jake cuts you off, voice suddenly rough. He shifts in his seat, rubbing his palms on his jeans—nervous, restless. It’s strange. Jake Sim does not fidget. At least, the Jake you knew didn’t.
He exhales sharply through his nose. “So what—he just… broke up with you after that? Didn’t take it as constructive feedback?”
You bark out a humourless laugh. “Obviously not. You men and your fragile egos—you're all so damn sensitive.”
“No,” Jake cuts in. “Not men, Hotshot. City boys.”
“Oh my God,” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Do not make this a city boy thing right now.”
“Fine,” he shrugs. “I’ll make it a ‘you have terrible taste in men’ thing instead.”
“Ex-fucking-cuse me?” you sputter. “How is this my fault? I was trying to be honest. Communicative. Isn’t that what everyone says? ‘Use your words,’ ‘share your needs,’ blah blah blah.” You throw your hands up. “You know, as much as I adore your Nonna, she can shove her advice up her—”
“Easy,” Jake’s laugh interrupts you. “That’s not fair and you know it.”
He’s smiling, but there’s something concerned underneath it.
“Look, I hear you, Hotshot. You were being a good communicator. That asshole just didn’t deserve the conversation because he wasn’t willing to listen.” His gaze lingers on your mouth for half a second too long. “Put it this way, if my girl told me I wasn’t getting her off…”
He pauses. Swallows hard. The air thickens.
“…I’d stay between her legs until we got it right.”
You freeze. The world tilts a little.
There’s so much to unpack in that single sentence, you don’t even know where to begin.
My girl hits first—warm, fuzzy, loving. Then the image—the idea of him being that focused, that attentive—with someone else. Someone not you? That thought stings. More than it should, probably. But naturally, your brain chooses the least helpful detail to respond to.
“Yeah, well,” you blurt, “Soobin never wanted to go down on me.”
Jake goes very, very still.
His eyes narrow—not confused. Angry. “What?”
You wince. “Heneverwentdownonme.”
In an instant, Jake’s hand is under your chin, tilting your face up. “We’re not playing that game, Y/N.” His voice is low. “Repeat what you just said.”
Your throat goes dry. He’s too close to your face. You see the tiny scar on his jaw, the one he got from falling off his horse at fifteen. The reason you call him amateur. You can feel his warm breath ghost against your cheek. And his eyes—those deep, warm, stupidly pretty brown eyes—pin you in place. It’s disarming to be seen like this. Really seen.
So you lie. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Really?” His mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. “Because I could’ve sworn you said your boyfriend of three years never ate your pussy.”
You choke on air.
[Okay. Slightly mortifying to admit, but hearing him say that—in that low, velvety drawl—nearly gives you your first orgasm from another man in three years.]
“Nope,” you squeak. “Didn’t say that. Must’ve been the wind.”
He tuts. “Stop trying to be cute, Hotshot.”
“I’m serious.” You straighten. “You still go to Chenle’s dive bar? The music was always loud. Maybe you’re going deaf.”
Jake’s patience finally snaps. His fingers slide from your chin to your wrist, snapping your attention to his face. To his eyes.
“Y/N,” he says, thumb brushing along your pulse point. “My hearing’s fine. And so far tonight, I’ve heard you loud and clear.”
You swallow hard. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
He leans closer. “That your ex is a pathetic man who doesn’t know a damn thing about your body.”
Your mouth opens. “Well, I didn’t exactly phrase it like that.”
“It was implied.”
“Well,” you pout, arms crossing in a flimsy attempt at self-protection. “It’s not like I asked him to go down on me.”
Jake scoffs. “Ask?” He shakes his head, muttering, “I think you just helped me develop my own marriage advice.”
“You’re not married,” you remind him. “Or… in a relationship?”
[Okay. That last part wasn’t technically necessary. But you’re just a girl drowning in selfish curiosity. Because, hello—he’s a cowboy with stupidly broad shoulders, workman hands, and a clear enthusiasm for oral sex. You’re only human.]
“No,” he says finally. “But if you have to ask your boyfriend to eat you out, he’s not the one.”
Your body goes genuinely, clinically warm.
Jake leans back slightly, running a hand through his hair. “That shit’s not a chore, Y/N. At least it shouldn’t be. A real man—someone worth keeping—wants to. Because he fucking enjoys it.”
Heat creeps up your neck. You’re melting. Absolutely liquefying. He’s not even touching you anymore, and still—every word feels like it lands on your skin. So you try and deflect with humour. Because that’s what you do when your insides are starting to dissolve.
“Do you even meet the requirements of your own standards, Jake?”
Something flickers in his eyes. “You asking me if I like eating pussy, Hotshot?”
The words hit you like a jolt. He has to be teasing. He has to be. Except… he doesn’t sound like he is.
“It was implied that you do,” you mumble, throwing his earlier line back at him.
“Not necessarily.” His lips curl and he leans back. “Ask me.”
You blink. “W-what?”
“Ask me what you actually wanna know, Y/N,”
The words hang between you because you both know what he means. You both know what you want to ask.
But—God. He’s your best friend. Asking that would cross a line you’re not sure either of you could come back from. And you’ve already smudged so many boundaries tonight. So you pivot, trying to act casual.
“Do you meet your own—”
He shakes his head before you can finish. “Wrong question.”
Your heart stumbles. “Jake—”
“Try again,” he murmurs.
“Do you…” You inhale, panic and want tangling in your throat. The rest comes out as a single mortifying syllable. “Eatpussy?”
This time, he doesn’t make you repeat it. He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t smirk. He just… looks at you, long and steady and measured, like he’s peeling you open.
Then, softly: “Do you want me to?”
Your stomach plummets. “What?”
“I said,” his fingers circle your wrist again, voice dropping an octave, “do you want me to eat your pussy, Y/N?”
Those boundaries you thought were blurred? Yeah. They don’t fucking exist anymore.
You stare at him, pulse thundering in your ears. You must’ve misheard him. Or you’re delirious. Or you’ve fallen into some kind of cowboy-flavoured fever dream where your best friend suddenly talks like this.
“Jake,” you whisper, and it comes out embarrassingly breathless.
“Yeah?”
“This is… this is insane,” you say, except it sounds more like a confession than an objection. “We’re best friends.”
He nods. “I know.”
“And this is…” You wave your free hand between you, trying to motion at the tension, the heat, the gravitational pull. “…whatever this is.”
“I know,” he says again, lips twitching.
“You can’t just—just offer something like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” you hiss, cheeks flaming, “you’re not supposed to… want that with me.”
That gets him.
“Hotshot,” he murmurs, leaning in until your noses almost brush, “you have no idea what I want with you.”
When you don’t respond, Jake tips his head, his expression gentling. “You’re shaking.”
You are. God, you are. Not from fear—at least not the bad kind—but from the dizzying realisation that this is happening. That he’s being serious.
“And you’re—”
You cut yourself off, because the alternative is blurting you’re looking at me like you’re going to eat me alive, and yes, you could mean that figuratively, but also… not figuratively.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says. “Not with me.”
You snort, high-strung. “Right. Because my best friend offering to go down on me is a totally normal, nerve-free scenario.”
“You think this is a joke?” he asks, softer than before.
“I—I don’t know.”
Jake leans in, slow enough that you could pull back, but you don’t. You can’t. His forehead nearly touches yours.
“No jokes,” he murmurs. “Not about this. Not about you. I’m offering because you deserve to feel good after three years of abysmal sex—”
“Hey!” you sputter, and he has the audacity—the absolute audacity—to smirk.
Then he bites his bottom lip like he’s trying not to laugh, like he knows exactly how much that expression is turning your bones to soup.
“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “Mediocre sex.”
You swat at his shoulder, but he catches your hand midair, fingers sliding between yours with ease. His thumb brushes the side of your index finger in a way that should not feel as intimate as it does.
“But if you don’t want that,” he goes on, voice lowering again, “that’s fine, Y/N. I’m a big boy. I can handle rejection, or feedback.”
The casual tone is at odds with everything simmering in his eyes. Heat. Intent. Restraint stretched thin.
“But…” His fingers tighten around yours. “I want to do this. I want,” he says slowly, like he needs you to absorb each word, “to eat you out.”
You swear the room tilts. Your heart, your ribs, your entire sense of self collapses into a singular point of focus: his mouth. The softness of his lips. The way his jaw flexes as he speaks. The way he’s looking at you like he’s imagining every sound he could pull from you.
“Jake…” His name comes out broken. Too thin. Too wanting.
“I need you to know that I’m not offering out of pity. I’m offering because I want to taste you. Because I’ve thought about it more times than I should. Because I know I can make you feel good.”
Your thighs press together involuntarily, and his gaze drops before snapping back to your face like he’s restraining himself with both hands.
Your voice is barely a whisper. “You’ve… thought about it?”
He lets out a breath that sounds like a confession. “You have no idea.”
Heat crashes through you, hot and whirling.
“Say something,” he murmurs. “Or I’m going to start assuming the answer’s yes.”
You swallow hard, pulse kicking so fast you can feel it in your fingertips. In your mouth. Between your legs.
“I…” You can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can’t look away from him.
Jake leans in, lips almost grazing your cheekbone as he whispers, “Do you want me on my knees for you, Hotshot?”
You do. God, you do. And Jake doesn’t wait for permission in the form of words—he just understands. Something in your breath, in the way you’re holding yourself with aching stillness, has him sinking to his knees anyway. Like kneeling for you isn’t a decision at all, but an instinct buried in his bones.
And the sight of him there—eager, focused, devoted in this quiet, devastating way—knocks the air from your lungs. Because it feels like he was made for this moment. Being on his knees for a woman is just in his nature.
His hands rise to your hips, fingers brushing the waistband of your jeans. There’s a low exhale from him, almost a laugh, almost a groan—because this feels like an odd victory. Getting to peel off these snug painted-on jeans that have been taunting him since you showed up on his front porch. His thumbs press into the button and zipper, tugging slowly.
When he finally works the denim loose around your ankles, he helps you step out of them, and you swear you feel each brush of his fingers in places far from where he’s touching. He rests his palms on your thighs, thumbs tracing idle paths along the soft skin just inside them. Then he looks up with those big, earnest puppy dog eyes full of a question he refuses to assume the answer to.
Is this okay? Are you okay?
And the sight of him kneeling on the worn rug of his parents’ living room, shoulders broad, chest rising and falling steadily, eyes molten, knocks the breath out of you.
Your voice has clearly abandoned you, so you nod. Hard.
Relief flickers across his features. “Good,” he murmurs, “Because I’m not stopping until you cum all over my face, baby.”
You actually cannot breathe. You’ve always been Hotshot, Y/N—never anything softer. Never baby. But the new term of endearment he uses goes straight to the centre of your body. It makes heat bloom low in your stomach in a way you can’t hide.
Jake’s lips curve, noting your reaction. He leans in, breath edging over your inner thigh, light and pleasant. But when he presses a slow kiss to the sensitive skin there, your legs instantly tense.
“Relax,” he whispers against you, another kiss trailing closer, “you don’t have to hold still for me. I need all your reactions to know I’m doing a good job for you, Y/N.”
Your fingers curl into the couch cushion behind you as he nudges your legs wider with his big hands. You let him. You open for him like it’s your own nature to be bare for him. His nose grazes the edge of your underwear, and he fucking inhales. Actually inhales you, until his throat pushes out a sound so low and guttural.
“Jesus, Hotshot…” His voice roughens. “You smell… fuck.”
Your thighs twitch, and he smiles against your skin.
“Lift your hips for me.”
You do—immediately, embarrassingly—because his voice leaves no room for anything else. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your underwear and pulls them down with agonising care, like he’s unwrapping a present. When they’re gone, he sits back on his heels for a moment.
He takes you in. Slowly. Thoroughly. Almost like just getting to look is a privilege. Almost like he’s getting off on it—which would have been unbelievable if his pupils weren’t dilating as he traces his eyes over you.
Eventually, his hands slide back up your thighs, thumbs brushing the inner edges again, and his breath hits your bare skin.
“Look at me,” he says softly.
You do, and his eyes are black, blown wide with hunger. He leans in, the tip of his nose grazing just above where you’re aching.
Quietly, he says: “I want you watching when I taste you for the first time.”
Your breath stutters.
Jake settles in between your legs, fingers spreading you for him, his thumbs opening you gently until he lowers his head and gives you one torturous, deliberate lick. His tongue drags from the bottom of your opening all the way up to your clit.
Your entire body jolts—knees buckling as a sound you’ve never heard yourself make stutters out of you.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, one hand flying to his hair before you can even think.
He smiles against you—actually smiles—before he does it again. Slower this time. Deeper. His tongue presses, tastes, claims. And god—god—he’s not fumbling, not figuring you out, not guessing. Other boys might need a map, but he doesn’t. He licks you like he’s known your body forever.
When he reaches your clit again, he closes his lips around it softly and gives the tiniest, most perfect pull. Your hips jerk, which makes his grip on you tighten instantly, keeping you right where he wants you.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against your pussy. “So fucking responsive for me.”
He drags his tongue through you again, savouring every twitch of your thighs, every shaky breath, every sound you’re too overwhelmed to swallow.
“Jake—” you gasp as a jolt cuts through your spine.
He groans when you tug on his hair. Not in pain. Not even in surprise. But like you just rewarded him. He noses lower, mouth opening fully against you, and he gives you a broader, wetter lick.
Your hips try to lurch away. You don’t mean to, it’s completely out of your control because it’s all too much, too good, too new. But none of that matters because Jake clamps his hands around your thighs.
“Don’t run from it,” he commands. “You’ve gone your whole life without anyone doing this right. Let me fix that.”
“I—I’m not—”
“Used to it?” he finishes, licking another slow stripe that makes your vision white at the edges. “I know. But you will be.” He lifts his eyes. “Because I’m not a country boy quitter, Hotshot. I finish what I start.”
Then his tongue pushes into you. A hot, thick glide that steals the air from your lungs. Your knees actually start to slide apart, chasing the pressure that pleases him.
“That’s it,” he mutters, fucking you with his tongue. “That’s how I want you. Open for me.”
You fist your hand in his hair so hard he groans again into your body. His tongue pushes harder. His nose nudges your clit. Your thighs close around his ears before you can stop yourself—but he only groans louder, hands sliding up to grip your hips and keep them apart again.
“Jake—fuck—Jake—”
He’s got you wrapped around his finger, and he knows it. Nothing about him is amateur at this. And with the sudden clarity of hindsight, the nickname you gave him as kids feels oh so stupid. Because whatever you thought you knew, whatever you thought oral was supposed to feel like… you were wrong.
It was never like this. It was never even close.
Heat floods your face, your chest, your entire body. You’re overwhelmed, undone, strung tight on a sensation you didn’t think you could want this much. And Jake doesn’t tease you for your reaction. He pulls back just long enough to speak, lips slick from you.
“Can’t believe that asshole didn’t want to do this to you.” His thumb strokes your hip. “You taste too fucking good to not have one good memory of someone’s mouth on you.”
Before you can respond, he dives back in—more eager, more urget. His tongue thrusts into you again, and the sound you make is so raw you slap a hand over your mouth.
Jake instantly reaches up and pulls your hand away.
“Don’t you dare hide those sounds from me,” he growls softly. “I want to hear what I’m doing to you. Those sounds are fucking mine, Y/N. Give them to me.”
You have no choice but to do just that when his mouth seals around your clit and sucks slowly, deeply, and devastatingly. Your back arches so hard you almost lift off the couch. Jake moans into you. You feel the vibration and then—
You hear it.
A faint, wet sound.
You look down, dazed, and your breath catches in your throat. Jake’s free hand is in his jeans, stroking himself, his knuckles brushing against the denim rhythmically as he eats you like he’s starving.
“Jake—” you choke out, heat flooding your face.
He lifts his mouth a fraction, panting against you.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “This is for you. Just you. Just take.”
“But you—”
He shakes his head and drags his tongue up your slit in one fluid, hungry stroke. His pace around his own cock doesn’t falter at all. There’s no shame in his voice, in his eyes, just pure unadulterated lust.
“Just let me get you there,” he murmurs. “Let me feel you cum on my tongue. That’s all I need. Please, baby.”
That has your thighs shaking around his shoulders. He notices. He loves it.
“Good girl,” he breathes. “Just be so fucking pretty for me and take it.”
Then he latches back onto your clit, sucking harder now, tongue teasing in perfect circles as his fingers slide beneath you and lift your hips into his mouth. You cry out, and Jake’s rhythm on himself quickens.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he growls against your clit. “Take it, Hotshot. Take every damn thing I give you.”
Your hand tightens painfully in his hair. He loves that too.
His tongue returns to thrusting into you matching the pressure on your clit, building you up to a euphoric edge. Each flick of his tongue hits a spot you didn’t even know you had. Your thighs shake. Your stomach tightens. Your breath comes in wild, uneven bursts.
“Jake—oh my God—Jake, I’m—”
His hands grip your hips hard, pulling you tighter against his mouth.
“Yeah?” He pulls you tighter against his mouth. “Give it to me. Cum on my tongue.”
And when he sucks again, the world explodes. Your orgasm tears through you so sharply, so powerfully, you can’t even form his name. Your body convulses, thrashing against him, and Jake moans—loud, broken, filthy—like the feel of you climaxing on his tongue is undoing him.
Because it is. Sucking you through orgasm, has his balls tightening. Flicking his tongue and drawing every pulse out of you until you’re shaking uncontrollably and collapsing back onto the couch, has him cumming in his pants like a teenager.
And he has no shame about it. Because you—his best fucking friend—have just cum all over his face. Only then does he ease up, barely kissing your inner thigh as you tremble.
“Good girl,” he pants. “I told you. I finish what I start. And I always get the job done.”
UNLEASHED — yjw
What could possibly go wrong when you bring home an adorable cat hybrid? He’s soft, cuddly, and loves attention—nothing bad about that, right? Right? In which owning a hybrid sounds fun, until his heat starts to fuck everything up.
content tags and warnings: cat hybrid jungwon x reader, animal isolation, ft. jay as jw former owner and jake as golden retriever hybrid, mentions of blood and injury, hybrid heat obv, possessive jungwon, he 's an indoor cat soooo. explicit content (smut): dub-con, masturbation, cum licking, pussy eating, overstimulation, squirting, not really that wild, but MDNI. WC: 5.2K
You knew the moment you saw Jungwon that you had to make him yours.
Those small ears twitching, that sleek black hair, the soft fur that looked like it would melt under your fingers—everything about him pulled you in. The shine of his well-groomed hair and the smooth glow of his skin made it clear he was taken care of, maybe even a little too well. The expensive collar around his neck screamed spoiled indoor hybrid. High maintenance or not, you didn’t care. You just knew you wanted him.
Convincing Jay to hand him over, though, wasn’t easy. You had begged, reasoned, argued, even tried to guilt-trip him. Why couldn’t he just say yes? It’s not like he didn’t already have Jake, that big golden retriever hybrid who followed him everywhere. Jay barely had time for Jungwon, always letting him sit quietly in the corner, waiting for scraps of attention that never came. It pissed you off. Jungwon deserved better—someone who’d actually give a damn, who’d spoil him the way he clearly wanted to be spoiled. And that someone was you.
“Do you even know how to take care of a hybrid? He’s still unneutered, for fuck’s sake.”
You just shrugged. How hard could it be? Feed him, give him a bed, maybe pet him when he looked sad—that’s what hybrids liked, right? You didn’t really care about the rules or the paperwork or whatever else Jay kept ranting about. All you knew was that Jungwon liked you. Every time you visited, he would curl up beside you, purr softly, and look at you with those sleepy eyes that made your stomach twist. He was sweet, warm, and completely irresistible.
So yeah, maybe you didn’t know shit about taking care of hybrids. But that didn’t matter. Because every time Jungwon leaned into your touch, you were sure of one thing—he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
“Okay, let me have him neutered before I hand him to you—”
“But I want him now!” You cut Jay off, you stomped your foot, frustrated like a kid. Jay was already glaring at you, jaw tight, trying to hold back his irritation. He just didn’t get it. You didn’t want to wait another damn day—you wanted Jungwon in your house, curled up on your couch, sleeping in your bed, right now.
The hybrid sat quietly beside you, flicking his tail lazily as the two of you argued. His ears twitched, catching every word, but he looked almost amused. When he noticed the tension building in your shoulders, he nudged your knee softly with his head. The touch instantly melted your annoyance. You pouted, reaching down to rub the soft spot behind his ear, and the moment your fingers touched him, a deep purr rumbled from his chest.
“See?” you said, looking at Jay with a grin. “What’s so hard about giving him to me? He likes me, right, ’Wonie? You want me, right?”
Jungwon’s tail swished once before he nodded, eyes half-closed as you scratched behind his ear again. A faint smile played on his lips, and his purr grew louder, vibrating against your hand.
Jay sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. You could tell he was giving up, though he clearly didn’t want to. “You’re annoying,” he muttered. But after a long pause, he finally said, “Fine. Take him.”
You didn’t even wait for him to finish before jumping up, excitement bursting out of you. You grabbed Jungwon’s things from the corner—his folded clothes, his pillow, his scratching pad, and that expensive bed that looked softer than yours. Jungwon followed behind you, tail flicking side to side as if he already knew he was going somewhere new.
While you shoved his stuff into a bag, Jay kept lecturing like an overbearing parent. “He’s very sensitive to food. Only this brand is good for him—don’t feed him any raw meat unless I say so. And no dry treats; they mess with his stomach. I’ll check on him every month to make sure he’s maintaining weight, and for God’s sake, get him neutered as soon as possible.”
You barely listened, nodding half-heartedly as you zipped up the bag. “Yeah, yeah, got it,” you said, rolling your eyes. You didn’t care about the boring details. You’d figure it out later. Hybrids weren’t that complicated.
Jay knelt beside Jungwon and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Be good, okay?” he said quietly. Jungwon smiled faintly, his ears twitching as he purred in response. Without hesitation, he turned to follow you out the door, his tail brushing against your leg as he walked past.
The sun hit his black fur when you stepped outside, and it shimmered like silk. You could feel your chest tighten just looking at him. He was yours now. The thought made you grin like an idiot.
“Bye, Jake! I won’t miss you!” Jungwon called out, waving lazily at the tall golden retriever hybrid standing near the gate. Jake just tilted his head, blinked once, he huffed and turned back inside, clearly unbothered.
You snorted, unlocking your car. “Guess he’s not much of a talker,” you said.
Jungwon climbed into the passenger seat, curling his legs under himself like a cat would. His ears perked as he looked out the window, curious but calm. When you started the car, he looked over at you and smiled—a soft, knowing smile that made your heart race all over again.
Jungwon turned out to be the most affectionate hybrid you’d ever met. He never slept on his own bed, no matter how soft or expensive it was—every night, he somehow ended up beside you, curled against your chest or tucked under your arm. People always said cat hybrids were distant, that they preferred their space and rarely craved touch, but Jungwon proved that wrong every single day. The moment you got home from work, he was there, tail swaying slowly, ears perked up as he waited by the door. Before you could even drop your bag, he’d be pressing his head into your neck, his fur brushing your skin, purring softly as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
They said cats absorbed bad energy. Maybe that was why you always felt lighter when he held you. Jungwon didn’t talk much, but his presence filled every empty space in the apartment. When you were gone, he mostly slept—curled up in the sunny spot near the window or sprawled across the couch, tail twitching as he dreamed. But the second you came home, it was like he’d woken up just to play. He’d grab your sleeve, drag you toward the floor, and make you chase after him until you both ended up laughing and breathless.
Despite his clinginess, Jungwon was curious—especially about the outside world. Sometimes, when you were watching TV or scrolling on your phone, he’d tug gently at your clothes and point toward the window. You’d follow his gaze to see a group of hybrids playing in the courtyard—dog hybrids tossing a ball around, a fox hybrid lounging in the sun. His tail would sway as his eyes followed their movements. He never said much, just looked up at you, silently asking for permission to go out.
You always gave him the same answer. “No, baby. Those hybrids outside probably have lice or something. I don’t want you catching that. You’ve got plenty of toys here, yeah?”
His eyes softened immediately, those big golden eyes full of quiet disappointment. For a second, guilt twisted in your chest, but you forced yourself to ignore it. Jay had drilled into your head how sensitive Jungwon was—his fur, his diet, his health. You weren’t about to screw that up just because he wanted to roll around in the dirt with a bunch of random hybrids.
Still, he tried. Every time.
One evening, as you were folding laundry, he came up behind you and tugged at your shirt again. “Please,” he whispered, almost trembling. His ears drooped, and his tail brushed weakly against your leg. “Outside?”
You sighed, trying to stay firm. “No, Jungwon. You’re an indoor cat. You know that.”
He frowned, lips pushing into a pout as his fingers clung to your sleeve. “Just a little? I’ll stay near you.”
You shook your head, placing the folded shirt down and cupping his face. “You’ve got everything you need here. You’ve got your shows, your games, your toys—and me. Isn’t that enough?”
He looked away, mumbling under his breath. You couldn’t quite catch what he said, but you could tell he was sulking. He flopped onto the couch, tail flicking in quiet frustration. You rolled your eyes, but deep down, part of you wondered if you were being too strict. You just wanted to keep him safe. That’s what owners did, right?
You walked over and sat beside him, brushing your fingers through his hair. His ears twitched under your touch, and though he tried to stay upset, he couldn’t help but lean into your hand.
“See?” you said softly. “You don’t need to go out there. You’ve got everything right here.”
You weren’t sure if it was just your imagination, but lately, he’d been... different. You didn’t know much about hybrids—honestly, you barely knew the basics—but you couldn’t help wondering if there was some kind of behavioral difference between indoor and outdoor ones. Did keeping him inside for too long mess with his head somehow? Because the longer he stayed with you, the moodier he seemed to get.
At first, you brushed it off. He was just bored, maybe lonely. You had work and errands; you couldn’t always give him attention. But then it got worse.
Like today.
You froze in the doorway, staring at your clean laundry now soaked in something that definitely wasn’t water. For a moment, your brain refused to process it. Then the smell hit you, and your stomach turned.
“Jungwon!” you snapped, your voice rising with anger.
He was lying on the couch, golden eyes half-lidded as he stared at you. His tail swayed slowly from side to side, and for the first time since you’d brought him home, his face was completely blank—cold, almost detached.
“What the hell is this?” you hissed, pointing at the pile.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just kept watching you with those eyes.
You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself that hybrids were still part animal. Accidents happened. Pets sometimes acted out for attention. Maybe this was just that. Maybe he was mad because you’d been gone late again. You could fix that.
So the next day, you came home early with a bag from the hybrid shop. “Wonnie, look!” you said, trying to sound cheerful as you knelt in front of him. “I got you a new toy. You’re gonna love this one.”
It was a soft scratching ball with catnip scent—the lady at the store said it was perfect for feline hybrids. You expected him to jump at it, to smile like he used to, but Jungwon just stood there, eyes flicking from you to the toy. His expression didn’t change.
“Come on,” you said gently, waving it a little. “Don’t be grumpy. I know you’re mad at me, but look, I got this for you.”
He walked closer, slowly and quietly, and then, crouched to sniff it. For a second, you thought it worked. His nose twitched, and his ears perked up—but then, out of nowhere, he ignored the toy completely and leaned in toward you, sniffing your shirt instead. His breath hit your neck, and his tail flicked faster.
“Uh, Jungwon?” you said, blinking in confusion as he pressed his face into your shoulder, inhaling deeply.
His ears flattened suddenly, and a low sound rumbled in his throat. Before you could say anything, he pushed you down onto the floor, claws gently but firmly gripping your arms. His pupils were blown wide, and when he hissed, the sound was sharp enough to make you freeze. Then he grabbed the toy, ripped it apart with a furious growl, and tossed it aside.
“Jungwon!” you shouted, startled. “What the hell’s wrong with you?!”
He didn’t answer, just stared at you, chest rising and falling fast. You could see the muscles in his jaw tense as he tried to control himself, his tail thrashing behind him. His breathing was heavier than usual, his ears twitching like he was irritated—or in pain.
You’d never seen him like this before. His usual warmth, his soft tone, the quiet purring—it was all gone, replaced by something wild and restless. He looked… agitated, like he was fighting something inside himself.
When you reached out to touch his arm, he jerked back, eyes wide for a split second before he turned away completely, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t make out. Then he stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.
You sat there for a long moment, staring at the shredded toy and the scratch marks on the floor. You didn’t understand what was happening—he had never acted like this before.
And that’s when you knew you needed to call Jay.
The phone rang twice before he picked up. “What now?”
“He started acting weird, okay?” you blurted out, pressing the phone between your shoulder and ear while fumbling with a bandage. “I just kept saying no to letting him outside because it’s dangerous, but then his behavior started getting worse."
Jay sighed so loud it made you roll your eyes. “Why would you not let him outside?”
“Because he’s an indoor cat, duh?” you said flatly, trying to dab some alcohol on the small cut near your collarbone.
There was a pause, followed by an irritated groan. “This is exactly why I shouldn’t have given him to you!” Jay snapped. “You’re such an idiot sometimes. Hybrids like Jungwon can’t be cooped up forever. They’re not toys, they need to socialize. When you isolate them, their instincts start to twist—they get anxious, restless, and it screws with their behavior.”
You frowned, trying to juggle the phone and the first-aid kit while listening. “I was just protecting him, okay? I didn’t want him to get sick or catch anything from those random hybrids outside. And now he’s peeing on my clothes, the sofa, the cabinet—everything! He even hissed at me earlier after sniffing me. Then he tore apart the toy I bought him. He’s acting like he hates me.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end before Jay’s tone changed completely. “Wait. What did you just say? He hissed after sniffing you?”
“Yeah,” you said, pacing across the living room. “It’s like he gets mad out of nowhere. His eyes go blank, then he just—snaps.”
“Did you…” Jay’s voice tightened. “Did you neuter him?”
You froze. “…No?”
The silence that followed was worse than the yelling you were expecting. Then, suddenly, it came—Jay cursing under his breath so harshly that you flinched and held the phone away for a moment.
“Pack his things right now,” he said through gritted teeth. “His clothes, bed, everything. Bring him to me. I told you to neuter him immediately, didn’t I? He’s a hybrid in pre-heat, for fuck’s sake! You have no idea how dangerous that is. He’s not just acting out—his body’s fighting him. His hormones are spiking and he doesn’t know how to control it. He’s probably confused, frustrated, and on edge. You can’t be near him like this.”
You winced, pressing your hand over your bandaged shoulder. “Jay, calm down—”
“Calm down?” he cut you off. “You’ve trapped a sexually mature hybrid in heat inside your apartment without supervision. He could hurt you! You need to get him out of there before it gets worse. Pack his things. Now.”
You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Jesus, Jay, you make it sound like he’s gonna kill me. Fine, fine. I’ll bring him over. You can deal with it.”
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were exhausted. Between work, lack of sleep, and Jungwon’s strange behavior, you were at your limit. Maybe it was better this way. Jay could handle whatever this “heat” thing was. You’d just pick Jungwon up after he calmed down.
You kept Jay on the line as you gathered Jungwon’s things—his folded clothes, his scratching pad, his blanket that still smelled like him. You were halfway through stuffing his bed into the bag when you heard the door creak open behind you.
“Jungwon?” you called softly, turning around. He stood there in the doorway, his expression is blank. His pupils were dilated, ears lowered slightly, and his tail was swaying. You offered a nervous smile, clutching the bag. “Hey, baby. I’m sorry, but… I have to take you to Jay for a while, okay? You’re not feeling well and—”
The second Jay’s name left your mouth, everything changed. Jungwon’s body tensed, and before you could react, he lunged at you. The bag fell from your hands as his weight slammed into you, knocking you to the floor. His claws gripped your shoulders tightly, and you let out a sharp cry when you felt his teeth sink into your skin.
“Fuck!” you shouted, your phone slipping from your hand and clattering onto the floor. You reached for it desperately, but Jungwon’s weight pinned you down. His breathing was ragged, his growls low and rough against your neck.
“Jay!” you screamed, your voice cracking as you tried to shove him off. “Help!”
Jungwon bit again, not deep enough to tear flesh but enough to make you cry out. His tail lashed violently, and his pupils were blown wide like a cornered animal’s. He was shaking, muttering incoherent sounds that didn’t even sound like words anymore. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you tried to push him off again, but he only pressed harder, his body trembling against yours.
“Jungwon, stop—please!” you begged, voice breaking as you felt his breath hit your skin again. That’s when you felt his hard length pressing against you, grinding through the thin fabric separating your bodies.
He leaned closer. “No, Jay. Mine. Only mine.”
Your chest tightened. “N-No, baby, we’re going to see Jay,” you stammered, tears stinging your eyes as you pushed weakly against him. “We’re going to help you, we’ll fix this—”
“NO!” he snapped. His hands shot forward, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. “You’re mine,” he growled again.
Your breath hitched when his hips rolled forward, the friction sending an involuntary gasp through your throat. His bulge pressed hard against your clothed core, and your body betrayed you—hips twitching, heat pooling low in your stomach. “J-Jungwon…” you whimpered.
He bent lower, his breath ragged against your ear, his words coming out in a broken chant. “Mine… mine… mine…” His scent filled your head, you could feel his instincts bleeding through, his control slipping completely as he buried his face against your neck, teeth grazing the soft skin there.
You cried out, not knowing if it was fear or desire that escaped you. His grip tightened, his muscles tense with a predator’s restraint. Then his mouth crashed against yours. You squeezed your eyes shut, a single tear sliding down your cheek as his tongue pushed deep, claiming your mouth in a messy, desperate kiss. He moaned into you, his sounds vibrating against your lips.
You tried to turn away, but he followed, his mouth crashing against yours again, harder, more desperate. His tongue pushing past your lips like he couldn’t get enough. When he finally pulled back, his chest was heaving, his pupils blown wide. He grabbed the hem of your blouse with shaking hands and tore it open, the sound of fabric ripping echoing through the room. The sudden chill on your exposed skin made you gasp and arch weakly as your body reacted to the raw force of it.
Your shoulders and neck burned, blood rushing under your skin from where his grip had been. Jungwon shifted, sliding down until he straddled your stomach, his tail twitching erratically behind him. His gaze trailed slowly over your body, pupils dilated so wide that the gold in his eyes had almost vanished. His breathing came in small, broken sounds—half whimpers, half growls.
He reached into his pajama bottoms and freed himself. Your breath hitched the moment you saw it—thick, flushed, the tip slick and red. Pre-cum was already dripping down his length, his hand trembling as he wrapped his fingers around it. He whimpered softly, the sound high and broken, and looked at you through his lashes.
“H-Hurts,” he said, his voice trembling as his hand began to move clumsily. “Please… hurts.”
You couldn’t look away. His hips twitched, his movements messy, his ears flattening against his head as he whined again. “H-hurts, hurts!” His voice cracked, and his tail lashed behind him as if his body couldn’t handle the tension building inside him. Watching him like that made your thighs clench together.
“Help… please,” he whimpered again, his breath stuttering, his hand moving faster but without rhythm. “Please, help me.”
Your chest tightened. “Wonnie…” you whispered, unsure if it was pity or desire making your voice shake. His head snapped up at the sound of his name, eyes glassy and pleading, his ears twitching toward your voice. Slowly, with trembling hands, you reached down and replaced his hand with yours.
The moment your skin touched him, Jungwon’s entire body jerked. His breath hitched, tail bristling, ears flattening tight to his skull. You stroked him once, twice—barely had the time to adjust your grip before his body went rigid. His head fell back, a strangled sound ripping from his throat as thick, hot ropes of cum spilled over your fingers and stomach. His hips twitched violently as he rode out the wave, muscles shaking, his moans dragging long and broken.
You froze, staring up at him as he trembled above you, ears flicking weakly. His claws dug into the floor beside you, the sound of his ragged breathing filling the silence.
“Shit,” you whispered under your breath, staring at the mess between you, unsure if you should pull away or reach for him again.
Jungwon’s breathing was heavy and uneven, his chest rising and falling with deep, shaky gasps. His eyes were still blown wide, the wild gleam in them refusing to fade.
Without a word, he caught your wrist, his fingers curling around it as he lifted your hand closer to his face. You froze when his tongue slid out, long and rough, dragging over your skin to lap at the mess that had splattered across it. You shuddered as the sharp, bristled texture of his tongue grazed your wrist.
A soft, helpless sound escaped you, and Jungwon’s ears twitched at the noise. His gaze met yours as he kept licking, each stroke slower than the last, his tail flicking lazily behind him as if he was calming down from the earlier frenzy. But the moment his tongue reached your palm, he gave a low growl, almost a purr—and then leaned forward again, shifting his position until his weight pressed you into the floor once more.
His nose brushed against your stomach, tracing a slow path downward. Every touch sent small tremors through your body. When he reached the waistband of your panties, he inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as if the scent alone was driving him insane.
Your body tensed. You were panting now, trying to steady your breathing, but when his pointed nose pressed against the damp spot between your legs, all sense of control vanished. He rubbed his face against you, nuzzling the soaked fabric. A small, helpless moan slipped from your lips, and his tail flicked sharply at the sound.
His tongue darted out, pressing into the thin fabric over your clit, slow and experimental at first. The sensation hit you hard and your hips jerked upward without meaning to. You gripped the floor beside you, fingers digging into the surface as you tried to hold yourself still. But Jungwon didn’t stop. His ears twitched as he listened to your shaky breaths, and then he repeated the motion, licking at the cloth again, this time with more pressure, more intent.
“J-Jungwon,” you breathed out, voice cracking. He hummed softly against you, his nose nudging the wet spot. The movement of his tongue grew firmer, dragging up and down until your thighs trembled and your body betrayed you again, spreading your legs wider beneath him. The smell of arousal thickened in the air, and he groaned low in his throat, his tail curling tight behind him as his cock twitched, already hard again despite just having come.
He pulled back for a second, panting, a thin strand of saliva connecting his mouth to your soaked panties. His eyes flicked up to meet yours and leaned in again, “smells so good,” he whispered, before his tongue pressed harder against you, dragging up the wet fabric until your breath hitched and your back arched from the floor.
He slid your panties aside before his tongue met your heat. The first touch made you gasp, a sharp sound that escaped your throat before you could hold it back. Your thighs trembled, the muscles in your legs twitching as his tongue traced slow, teasing circles over your folds.
Jungwon let out a low, needy sound against you. He reached up, guiding your trembling hand until your fingers rested against his ear.
“Please,” he whispered, then he dived back in.
You moaned, your fingers tightening against his hair as you tilted your hips forward, giving him more. “Just like that, 'Wonnie,” you whimpered, the words breaking apart on your tongue. His tongue moved rougher now, faster, his nose bumping your clit with every stroke. You couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from your lips — they came out raw and uncontrollable.
Every time he lapped at your entrance, your vision blurred. Your pulse raced in your throat, and a heat spread from your core to every part of your body. You rolled your hips, pressing harder against his mouth. He groaned in approval, his tongue responding eagerly.
“Ahh—fuck, Jungwon!” you cried out, grinding in slow, desperate circles. Your breath hitched each time his tongue flicked your clit, and your legs shook violently.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide with desire. The sight alone made your stomach twist tighter.
“Fuck, fuck—” you gasped, your voice breaking. The rhythm between you two grew frantic, unrestrained. His tongue matched your every move, his grip on your thighs were firm.
The pressure inside you snapped. Your body arched, your moans turning into sharp cries as waves of pleasure rolled through you. Jungwon didn’t stop. He held your hips in place, tongue still swirling inside you, dragging your orgasm out until you were shaking uncontrollably.
You could barely breathe, chest rising and falling as you tried to steady yourself. But Jungwon wasn’t done. He lifted you suddenly, his strength catching you off guard as he knelt on the floor and wrapped your legs around his waist.
“Jungwon—wait, I’m still—ah!” you screamed as he pushed into you in one deep thrust. The stretch was almost too much, your walls clenching tightly around him. Sweat dripped down your temple; your nails dug into his shoulders.
He groaned, his instincts taking full control. “So good,” he muttered before thrusting deeper, harder.
The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room. Every move sent another wave of pleasure up your spine, and every time you tried to speak, it came out as a moan.
“Too much—ahh, Jungwon!” you gasped, but he didn’t slow down. His pace quickened, his body moving wildly as his hips slammed into yours. You felt him everywhere — his grip, his breath, his rhythm — all of it. He lifted your hips higher, keeping your legs open for him, your back arching, the new angle making his thick tip hit deep inside you, right against your sweet spot.
“Fuck—right there,” you gasped, your voice cracking.
Jungwon grunted, pushing harder, deeper, until all you could do was scream his name. Your vision blurred again, stars bursting behind your eyelids as another orgasm ripped through you. Your throat was raw from the sounds spilling out of you.
Your ears rang, and your lower body hung in the air, helpless in his grasp. Each thrust made your head bump softly against the floor, your hair sticking to your damp skin. Drool escaped from the corner of your mouth, but you didn’t care. The pleasure had swallowed you whole.
His pace grew faster, pushing in, pushing out, pushing deeper, and deeper, and deeper until your body tensed again, trembling from the overstimulation, but Jungwon was so lost.
He only grunted, his thrusts growing faster until your walls fluttered around him for the second time. You could feel the way his muscles tightened, the tremor in his arms as he held you up.
Then you felt the deep pulse inside you, his release spilling into your warmth. He groaned loudly, his body shuddering as he pushed his cock deeper, as if trying to mold himself to you.
The heat spread through your core, his cum filling you until it was almost too much. But your body, still sensitive and trembling from the overstimulation, reacted on its own. Your pussy clenched hard, then force to pushed his length out, a gush of liquid following right after.
A sudden squirt splashed between you both. Jungwon froze for a second, eyes wide in confusion as his cock slipped free, still twitching and spilling the last of his release. He tilted his head, ears twitching, panting heavily, watching the way your hips twitched and how your slick, trembling folds pulsed with the aftermath.
He reached down, fingers spreading your folds as more liquid flowed out, dripping down your thighs and onto the floor. His expression softened, almost in awe. "Pretty," he muttered under his breath. His fingers traced the inside of your thigh, then slowly pressed them against your entrance again, testing your sensitivity. You flinched, whining at the overstimulation, but he couldn’t help himself.
Your hips twitched again as his thumb rubbed gentle circles over your swollen clit. You tried to catch your breath, still dizzy, your chest rising and falling fast. Jungwon leaned down, licking the side of your neck, his tongue dragging lazily over your skin before he nuzzled your jaw.
“Mine,” he whispered before his teeth sank gently into your nape.
Jay pushed the front door open and he stepped inside cautiously. Behind him, Jake followed silently, gripping a metal muzzle in one hand.
Jungwon was kneeling on the floor, his body pressed tightly against yours. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, his hands steadying you as his tongue dragged slowly across the fresh bite wound at your shoulder, as if he was trying to clean or soothe what he’d done. Blood glistened faintly against his lips before he shifted, nuzzling against your hair, low growls rumbling in his chest and he began to groom you with short, slow strokes of his tongue.
The bite mark was still fresh, crimson streaks tracing down your shoulder, and scratches lined your thighs and waist. Your eyes fluttered open weakly, half-lidded and glassy, lips parted as you breathed unevenly. You looked at Jay through the open door, your expression dazed.
The sound of footsteps pulled Jungwon’s attention immediately. His body tensed, his nostrils flaring as he lifted his head, his fangs visible when he bared his teeth. The once-soft glow in his eyes turned sharp and threatening. He hissed a warning sound and his grip around your waist tightened, dragging you closer until your back was flush against his chest.
“Mine,” he growled. “Don’t touch.”
harvest of purity — sunghoon [ 박성훈 ]
pairing ⦂ sunghoon ⨯ fem. reader
synopsis ⦂ au in which an innocent, shy, and faithful sunghoon takes a summer job as a farmhand. he’s never indulged on his desires until the farmer’s daughter shows him a taste of sin. although riddled with guilt, he cannot deny or escape the new rousing feelings that impurify him. especially when she's set on ruining him every chance she gets.
genre ⦂ smut, slow burn romance, strangers to lovers word count ⦂ 29k tags ⦂ fluff and angst, repressed desires, innocence loss, guilt and shame, exploring relationships, falling in love, southern gothic vibes, summer au, clingy down bad sunghoon, ‘mean’ morally gray reader, both are weirdo loser freaks content advisory ⦂ mdni ! dark-ish content ⚠︎ sexually explicit content in four scenes: handjob, oral (m. rec.), dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption!kink, degradation!kink, praise!kink, switch!hoon, he whines whimpers and cries; religious themes, concepts, corruption, and criticism; manipulation, animal death, blood, intense scenes, abusive parenting, gun mention and use
note ⦂ poured my heart out. i hope you love it as much as i do. dedicated to my other evil, off-putting, and/or weird girls┊reblogs and feedback encouraged ⇀ playlist ⸝⸝ masterlist 🌾
You’re not sure what life in your small town was like before you were born. You can imagine it’s not too different from what it is now though. The thing about old country towns is they never seem to change. Open fields and miles of farmland. Two gas stations, one grocery store, a few family owned vegetable stands or in-home produce product shops. Only one notable neighborhood where the majority of the townspeople lived if not hidden somewhere else in the countryside. And too many churches to keep track of if the abandoned ones were included in the count.
You like to think your parents were happy before you too. Hopeful and optimistic when offered to take over your uncle’s farm. Excited for the next step in their relationship after their marriage. They were the ideal family dream coming to life: high school lovers, engaged after graduation, married, a career handed to them through family with a large property of land and lovely farmhouse. All that was left was to grow that family. To have children to not only help tend the fields and animals but run around barefoot, all smiles, and wide eyed.
You were positive that it was something they wanted.
But life couldn’t have been that easy for them; it would’ve been too gratuitous of a blessing.
The day you were born, your father knew there was something greatly wrong with you. He claimed that on the day you ripped your mother open, screaming and crying, that God spoke to him for the first time. He called it divine intervention. Believing the birth of your soul was a red-herring of all that was set to come but God would show him the light, the truth: that you were nothing short of evil and needed saving.
That year on the farm there was nothing but death. It only furthered your father’s harsh thinking of you. The crops and produce either died or rotted before it had the chance to grow or ripe. The animals were dropping dead from unknown illnesses. Every female livestock that gave birth passed in doing so. Barely any profits were made that year. Taxes were rising and so were the prices of nearly everything. It was a huge toll for your family, especially when raising their first child. Before you were even conscious of the situation everything was already deemed your fault.
Through the harrowing struggle, your father’s optimism turned to resentment. He claimed that bringing you to the farm was not like bringing a daughter home, but a corrosive parasite. He believed that you were the reason for the life being sucked away from their perfect farm life. So, he turned to the only thing that he could trust to save the family from your curse: God. Begging and pleading through prayers every morning and night to the sky for a better season.
He studied religion here and there before taking over his brother-in-law's farm but with the farm failing for the first time, he took a change of career paths. He was already well known among the locals, close with the church goers in the community. And somewhere along the way, he managed to start preaching himself. Nearly every christian in your town moved churches to follow where he went. Like sheep to a shepherd.
If only they knew what you did, what he was truly like behind the closed doors of your home. How his devotion was turning to violence. Day by day, becoming uglier.
While your father busied himself with his new found family, often away from home on the farm, the crops and animals began to thrive again. Slowly but surely, growing and regaining health. He would say it’s God’s doing, a small taste of His salvation.
Your early years were mostly troubled by the relationship of your parents. Too young to fully understand their disputes, drawing at the kitchen table with their yelling sounding the house. It was always about you, that much you knew. Because you watch and you listen. Quick to learn that they tried for another child but never had any success. They wanted someone else to be their baby. Something that felt more like a blessing than you. Your father constantly spitting in your mother’s face that you were the rot to the fruit of her womb. And then he would always end up leaving by slamming the door and your mother would always join you at the table with tears and a bottle of wine. You always just watched, listening in silence. Perhaps just born resilient.
Growing up was different for you compared to most of the kids in your town. You never had the opportunity to make many friends being homeschooled. The only time that was spent around others your age was kindergarten. Kindergarten was short lived because of your behavior; the teachers at school were concerned about you. How you were mean, rough, and sinister with your actions towards others. Picking on the kids you were simply interested in because of how different from you they were. Drawing pictures of gutted cattle or dead, half developed baby chicks still in their shell and giving them as gifts to the teachers. Sharing to classmates the cruelty of farm life and why it was pretty with a smile.
Your father loved to find out about this, you could see it in his eyes. The way they were wicked and screamed I told you so to your mother. You didn’t understand why it was bad or caused trouble. You were only having fun for the first time. The way the kids ran away crying or the teachers wore faces of shocked horror, it made your insides light up in joy. A new feeling—a sense of excitement. You didn’t know it was sick. And of course, it was taken from you. You were removed from school and your mother became your teacher. Your classmates became stuffed animals and the real ones in the barns. It was hard for you to find that joy you briefly felt with others.
Sometimes you had a glimpse of it again when your father would punish you. But even that you grew sick of. The mess, the stench of it all. Sticky and red, worse in the heat of summer. He drilled the sick moto for his actions into your head, “I know no punishment, only mercy.”
Father took you both to church more often after that. He had a false image to uphold afterall, one of a happy, God loving family. In his ego he had to prove that his preaching and prayers could fix you, save you. But that was only admitted at home, loud and scary to your mother. Your poor mother, weak and defensive of you, eventually waved her white flag. You wished she kept fighting for you and that she wouldn’t begin to see you the way your father did.
Childhood and adolescence was a string of questions about yourself. Never quite finding out what made you so bad to be seen as devilish when all you thought of yourself was curious. Perhaps just unlucky to be correlated with negative happenings on and off the farm, always gone without a chance of understanding. Despite it all, you knew well enough the way your parents talked and looked at you was without unconditional love.
On your 17th birthday, the family dynamic made the biggest shift to be experienced.
At this age, you had such a strong sense of independence and with the lack of parental guidance and monitoring, you would leave town when you could. Ride your bike down the long road to the bus stop at the center of town and take the bus into the city over. Your mother was generous with allowance and you saved your money well, only spending it on books or trips to the movie theater. A form of escape that allowed you to learn more about the world and all the things your parents tried to keep hidden from you. A way to learn how to be human.
So when your father was tearing your room apart in search of the same gift he re-gifts you every year, he found some things that made his stomach churn. Every year for your birthday he rewrapped the same, first ever, bible he’d given you. Funny enough that he gave you anything at all considering he never even referred to it as your day, only his day of revelation. And to his disgust, on his sacred day, he found books and journals of explicitly detailed copulation and debauchery.
He almost fainted. Stumbling over his own feet, hands shaking as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the words on the pages. That was the only time you smiled on that day. Just for a second. And then a glimpse of hell broke loose.
In a rage, he destroyed everything. Your mother stood next to you in tears, telling him to stop and stop. Her hands covered her face but she saw everything through her fingers. You only watched in silence, hands balled in fists by your side. A silent hatred and anger coursed in you. He called you names that no man of God should, especially to his own daughter.
“You’re a disgraceful deviant of Satan! I should’ve known. My own day of revelation is a curse!” You watched him rip pages apart, his voice booming through the house. “Years spent praying for you and this is how you turn out?! Succumbing to nothing but a dreaming whore?!”
A part of you liked his mean words. It was so rare for him to use such colorful language.
You knew what would come next. He was going to have you ‘cleansed’. Something he always did when he discovered something new and sacrilegious of you.
But it didn’t come. Because there was no dying, old sheep on the farm at the time. He did make a promise to not forget though. A promise to have you washed in sacrificial, blessed blood on a day you least expected.
Your father left after that, leaving you and your mother behind. He moved to the city to continue his preaching at a larger church. He became known as the closest reverend to God for miles and miles. Lost in his ways, he only made visits when he needed to sort things out for the business of the farm.
You were content with his departure, yet couldn’t quite understand why your mother missed him. As far as you’ve seen, he was never kind towards either of you.
But now, it’s several years later. And although you’re free of your father’s heavy presence and homilies, he still makes his trips to the farm. You can feel the air change whenever he does, as if you’ve gained a sixth sense for his coming. Naturally intuitive to things having spent your childhood walking on eggshells in your own home.
And today, the air feels particularly chill for summer. The breeze sweeps in through your open window. The forecast called for nothing but sunshine all week, yet there’s an angry, dark cloud hanging over your farm. A foreboding feeling shivers through you, and you know he’s going to fulfill his promise today. You sigh and slide out of bed. “Let’s get this over with.”
You spend the morning doing your usual routine. Brushing teeth, washing your face, then dressing in farm work attire. Your breakfast consists of tea and your mothers homemade strawberry scone. Next is tending to the animals. Your mother usually takes care of the crops and gardening. It’s a quiet and early morning, as most are. The both of you keep to yourselves, just doing what needs to be done day by day.
The sound of a car is heard coming down to the long dirt road and you know who it is by the sound. It’s a fancier vehicle than the one he left this property with years ago. A meaner part of you likes to think his greedy hands got into that mega church’s donations but you’re too self aware of the successful farm your family owns.
Your father parks in front of the house and your mother is quick to rush over to him, presumably with many questions: How have you been? Are you hungry? Thirsty? What brings you here so early in the month?
You roll your eyes at her desperation to cling onto the relationship that clearly ended when you were a child.
You place a hand on your hip, leaning your weight to the side that isn’t carrying the heavy bucket of chicken feed. Walking away from the coops and back towards the shed by the house, you make eye contact with your father despite only taking a glance.
He watches you with narrow eyes from the lowered window of the car he’s still sitting in, very much not listening to a word your mother is saying.
He calls your name before you can open the shed. Spinning on the heels of your boots, you turn around with raised brows of questioning.
He mouths the words sacrificial tree as he exits the car. Your mother sees this. She wears pained disappointment as she scurries away. Presumably to the barn where the sheeps and lambs are kept. She might as well be a sheep too, you think.
The bucket slips from your fingers and drops to the patchy dirt grass by your feet with a thud, spilling over in a mess that will be cleaned later.
You don’t bother giving him a nod of understanding. You just turn around and begin your walk to the tree line where the man made path is. Knowing it would take some time for his preparations, you walk to the lake that’s hidden behind the farmland.
It’s a brief walk through your familiar woods. Once at the short wooden dock, you sit down at the end, taking in the gloomy summer scenery. A light fog hugs over the water. You bring your knees to your chest, in your sitting position, and hug yourself the same way.
This is your favorite place out of all the land your family owns. It’s serene, mostly. Always quiet. You’re the only one who comes here. And it’s nice to swim with when the weather warrants it. There’s a feeling here that’s hard to feel anywhere else you find yourself. Sometimes you imagine what it would be like with someone else, but you doubt it would be as nice. Trouble has a way of following you, it seems. You frown at the thought.
It’s silent like this for a few minutes, just you trying to find a sense of calmness before the impending chastisement. Then you hear some rustling of leaves, heavy footsteps following. You don’t turn around yet, you only wait for the call of your name. Your time of tranquility is too brief. You sigh before giving yourself a squeezing hug.
“It’s time,” the reverend calls out loudly, “quickly now, we have new farmhands arriving soon.” The sound of his feet walking away is when you stand. You wave a goodbye to the foggy lake before parting ways. Your feet move unconsciously, taking to where your body knows to go.
Leaves crinkle underneath your boots and twigs snap. The trees’ branches sway in the gentle morning breezes that pass.
In the mix of the small forest, man made crosses of sticks or plywood are spaciously scattered. Like a graveyard to all your bad doings. Most small but one large. Old rotted wood that stands crooked and begging to fall over right next to the largest, strongest tree. Your eyes, that are trained to ground, move upwards the cross and then to the tree. Your father stands there with a large knife in hand. Your mother waits cautiously not too far away. Her demeanor is frightful as if this is the first time. Coward.
An old sheep hangs by its hind legs from a sturdy tree branch. Unmoving and defenseless. Big beady, dumb eyes look in all directions but you. You think it must feel the same guilt as yourself, sorry that its life purpose is to embarrass you, make you hate what you are.
“God told me to make a sacrifice to prove my faith. He guides my hand in washing your soul clean of sin. So here I am with our blessed, dying lamb.” He’s said this every time. His voice is always miserably rehearsed and preacher-esque.
You thought long ago that this was their, the lambs, only use on the farm. It’s a shame. All that devotion has made him so ugly and violent.
You make small steps closer to the lamb. It’s whining in bleat baas and mehs. Does it know what’s happening? Is it scared? You like the lambs, sheeps. Pure white, soft, and docile. They never fight back. They just take it. I doubt they need restraints. You could hold them above me just the same and they’d never resist.
“Move faster, for the love of God. Yeah, stand right there underneath like you know how to.” He instructs you, annoyed. His patience running thin as the distant sounds of a truck makes way down the dirt road to the farm property.
“Okay…” You don’t fight him, with arms crossed behind your back and a hand squeezing around your own wrist, you move closer. Maybe you’re a lamb too.
Maybe all your father really was is the executioner.
He raises the knife as he begins to speak, it slides over its cotton, white throat but does not cut, “Revelation 7:13-17 Then he told me, ‘These are those who come from the great tribulation, and they’ve washed their robes, scrubbed them clean in the blood of the Lamb. That’s why they’re standing before God’s Throne. They serve him day and night in his Temple. The One on the Throne will pitch his tent there for them: no more hunger, no more thirst, no more scorching heat. The Lamb on the Throne will shepherd them, will lead them to spring waters of Life. And God will wipe every last tear from their eyes.’” He slits its throat in a quick, harsh movement. The blood spills just as fast, squirting spurts of red before it comes pouring down onto you. “Face up,” you obey even though it brings you rage, “it ought to cleanse those unholy thoughts I know that are still in there.”
Head raised to the sky with eyes and mouth squeezed shut, you let it consume you. Warm, thick and wet washes down from your head onto your clothes then down to your feet. The smell of animal, metallic iron covers you. It’s sticking to your hair, eyebrows and lashes. You can already feel your clothes clinging to your skin in the dirtiest ways.
You stand there, drenching in the its blood. Your father speaks again, firm and slow, “Say it with me now, ‘I know no punishment, only mercy.’” All you feel is the animal’s rain of life flooding you.
You open your mouth to speak but are quick to spit and cough out the blood that manages to get into your mouth. Smack.
“I don’t have time for this,” his voice sounds like an echo, your head is ringing from the harsh swing of his hand. The skin of your cheek stings. He hits like a bitch, you think. “Say it with me now, dammit!” You can feel him wipe his bloodied hand on the side of your shirt.
You step back from under the red shower. “I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your words align with his in the perfect paced harmony you’re trained to do so. Enunciated, slow and strong, through gritted teeth.
There’s a beat of silence before the sound of your parents footsteps walking away.
Standing there in red, yet to open your eyes, you breathe out a shaky sigh of defeat. It sounds more like a growl. With the mostly clean hands you kept safely behind you, you bring them up to wipe the blood from your face. You don’t dare to look at the dead animal in front of you. Being covered in it is enough alone to make you feel sick.
You think of going back to the lake, jumping in and letting the blood wash off you there, but knowing you’d either walk back with further drenched clothes or naked didn’t seem like options you wanted to deal with either. So you just head back to the house. It’s a slower walk than need be, but you just felt like avoiding the eyes of the newcomers, hoping they’d be off in the fields or in a barn by the time you walk through. You feel numb.
You’re wrong though, by the time you’re passing the barns and coops, the group of new farmhands are already lined up outside the horses’ stable. Your mother is talking to them, although not all are paying attention. Only a few pairs of wide eyes follow you. Catching the sight of you must really shock them but you can’t blame them. Something about this makes you excited. You stop in your tracks and look around to see if your father’s car is gone. It is. The realization feels like a wave of relief and it suddenly feels brighter outside already.
You take a glance down to your disheveled appearance. Shirt, pants, and boots painted like the barns. You look back to the group, brushing the soiled hair back from your face. Some pieces stay stuck, in the early stages of drying against your skin.
It’s safe to have a little fun.
You begin a slow walk over to the group. You take a headcount and there’s five of them. Two younger men, closer to your age. The other three look a bit older, not by much but definitely older. Your mother is yet to turn around from whatever rundown she’s giving them. Too dense to even recognize that now none of them were paying any attention to her.
You creep up beside her and open with, “Hello,” your voice is louder than even you’ve heard it be in a long time. It’s nice to be heard, noticed. You usually avoided the farmhands, but this summer was going to be different. You decided this on the walk over.
Being cooped up on the farm for so long made you different, it’s obvious to anybody. Not properly socialized in your developmental years caused you to be an anomaly to the ones who did come across you. Enigmatic from far away and up close. Now isn’t the greatest example though, the situation is too clear as to why.
Your mother turns to you, gasping and jumping back slightly in the shock of your gross state and sudden introduction. “My goodness, girl, whatta ya doin’ here like this?” Her voice is hushed, clearly unsettled with the situation.
They all just stare at you, open mouthed and bewildered. You take the time to get a good look at each of them up close. Your eyes follow their faces individually down the line. And then they stop.
At the end of the line is a man more beautiful than the ones you’ve seen in the movies. You feel stuck in time, left with parted lips, staring at the man before you. And far too intently for your character. He stands tall, sharp, pale, and elegant. What is a boy like this doing here? He averts his eyes from you, clearly uncomfortable by what’s before him. He looks uneasy, shifting his weight foot to foot with his hands behind his back. His pretty eyes glance around from you to your mother to the other men and the ground. He simply doesn’t know what to do with himself. You find it dangerously darling of him.
You don’t even realize the small smile that takes your lips. You step closer to him and he steps back, now looking at you with wide eyes of small fear. You extend your hand to him, it’s coated in drying blood. He gulps and the sight, his adam’s apple bobbing in such a biteable neck stirs something in you. This will be far more fun than you intended.
You say your name softly for introduction and step a little closer, “Nice to meet you," you feign cuteness as much as you can, looking up at him through your blood clumped lashes. It’s clear to everyone there is something off; there’s little to no real emotion behind your voice and face.
Your mother eyes you suspiciously as you corner the handsome man, but she says nothing. Sometimes she fears you too.
He looks from your eyes to your hand, having an internal battle with himself on what to do, “Ah, I am Sunghoon... Nice to meet you too.” His politeness must be stronger than his frighteness, because he takes his hand in yours and shakes it gently. His hand is large in yours, nearly covering it entirely. You squeeze it hard, your eyes never leaving his, trapping him in the scene.
He wants to look away, to hide somewhere. The way his skin crawls tells him he’s a prey already in the mouth of a predator. And you know he’s nervous under your intense gaze because your hand feels like a lamb is still bleeding above you. His palms are sweating, and it’s nowhere near hot enough for that yet. Your smile grows to a smirk.
Although you’re wearing the lamb, having Sunghoon’s hand in yours made you feel like a wolf.
Sunghoon’s first day of his summer job starts off duller than he imagined. The sun isn’t out this morning and it only intensifies his anxiousness, as if the grey skies reflect his inner emotions. He’s already new to the area, away from home and staying in an apartment not far from his college in the city. A private, christian school that he studied hard to get into with his friend. He wishes his best friend and roommate, Jake, was joining him in this job, but Jake already had plans to teach at a summer soccer camp for kids through their school.
He found this opportunity through the college church they attend together. A reverend from another church in the city came to visit one Sunday, handing out flyers to the young men in hopes of finding farm help. The pay is good and the bus fairs to the small town over where the farm’s located is covered. He’s never done work like it before, nevertheless was he going to let a simple offer pass him up.
Things are going smoothly to start, being told how to care for, clean, and feed the animals to crop preservation. Everyone would have their own specific roles on the farm. Sunghoon was assigned the easier of the tasks, either feeding animals or watering and fertilizing the vegetables and fruits crops. He learns there are already regular farm workers that would come throughout the week to collect produce, material, and use the machinery for the more laborious work. And if she wasn't around when needed then they could ask any of the regular employees for assistance or find her at the house.
As the farm owner is about to give details on the horses’ maintenance, a girl saunters in. And the anxious feelings become of Sunghoon all over again. His eyes are wide, taking in her appearance. The smell of the farm dissipates and putrid copper takes over. The worst part is how calm she appears, and the fact that she’s unbothered with all that she wears.
He thinks his brain short circuits, everything seeming muffled and unreal. He doesn’t even realize he introduced himself or touched her. It all was too quick and unfamiliar for him to grasp.
He watches as she walks away, back to the house that sits slightly over the hills and valleys of the property. His expression is blank, blinking slowly at the strange girl then down to his hand that’s stained red too.
“Don’t pay her no mind,” the woman speaks up, she sounds as if she’s warning them. “Just get yer work done and when everyone’s finished y’all can head back home. I won’t ask too much of ya in yer first month here, alright? That might be a different story later.” She tries to end the statements in humor with her forced laugh.
Sunghoon nods but his eyes don’t leave his dirty hand. The other men nod along too and give their ‘yes, ma’ams’ in return.
The woman continues walking them around the farm, listing rules and guidelines they must follow, along with advice and tips for the work they’ll be doing.
The day flows as easy as it can for Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much with the other farmhands. He also doesn’t know them well enough to be comfortable in their conversations, so he just exists in awkward silence, sometimes reacting. While they can joke around and find fun in the work, his mind keeps wandering off to the girl from earlier, to you. How your empty eyes held onto his and small hand even tighter. He thinks the palm of his hand still burns from the interaction.
Around the afternoon time, Sunghoon and the guys are sitting around a picnic table near the house. The sun is beating down on them all now while they chug down water and eat their lunch. The owner was kind enough to provide their refreshments and meals. They were all thankful.
She adds that there’s a small lodge up the dirt road. It’s a little old but homey and has space with two spare bedrooms if they need to wash up or rest at any time. It was originally built for the farm workers that worked late and needed a place to stay if need be.
Once done, the boys stand up and talk about what they have left to do. The next bus back to the city isn’t running for another two hours so they speak of taking some leisure time and exploring the farm property. Meanwhile Sunghoon is still sitting, watching them huddled in conversation. He wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as they begin walking towards the fields.
Sunghoon, taking what the farm owner had mentioned previously, decides that he’d like to stay inside to get away from the beating sun for a while. So he gathers his trash to throw away in the bin by the road near the house’s mailbox and begins his walk to the lodge.
Once inside he takes in the rustic, outdated furniture. It’s a little dusty and the floorboards creak beneath his feet but he finds it somewhat comforting. The living space has two couches by an old stone fireplace, a center table with board games and cards, a kitchenette, and a large dining table with enough space to seat six people.
The decor is very farmers-life-esque. From a cow print rug in the small kitchen area to the antlers mounted on the wall near the dining table. There’s scenic southern paintings hung up along with antique crosses and prints of bible verses, all adoring the faded and peeling floral wallpaper. Above the fireplace hangs a painting depicting Jesus healing a blind man.
He walks down the only short hall in the lodge to find the two spare bedrooms the woman had mentioned along with a bathroom. He takes this time to wash his hands thoroughly and splash some cold water on his face. With his hands resting on the sink, he stares at himself in the mirror. The cold drops of water slip down his face, jaw, and back into the sink.
In his mind he’s questioning whether or not he’s sure of this job. It’s all too different from what he knows and he can’t help but feel out of place here. With a sigh, he drops his head and watches the water slip down the sink.
He jumps slightly at the sudden sound of the front door opening and closing, not expecting the others to join him here quite yet. No noise follows the action for a moment, not even footsteps. Then there’s the sound of a click, like the door is being locked. He straightens his posture and peaks out the bathroom door, listening for their voices or any sound other than silence. It offers nothing to him so he begins to feel tense.
“Hello?” Sunghoon calls out skittishly, but there’s no response. His heart rate picks up a little and he starts to think the boys are trying to pull some sort of childish prank on him. He leaves the room and makes slow steps down the hallway to the main area of the lodging house.
As he rounds the corner he doesn’t find any of the boys there though, he just sees you. His heart jumps at the realization. Sitting on the couch, in overall shorts and nothing else. Bare legs crossed and hands against the couch by your sides as you watch him peer around the corner with apprehension. You’re just sitting there, leaning forward and waiting for him to come find you.
Cowardly, Sunghoon makes a half turn. He presses his back against the wall of the hallway as if he could hide away or disappear into it. He even closes his eyes, thinking of a quick prayer to save him from this circumstance.
“Are you pretending to be shy or are you really this cute?” Your voice is teasing, and he can hear the wicked smile in it without seeing.
Feeling caught, he just sighs and slowly makes his way to the living area. He tries not to look at you, thinking you are too revealing. So he looks everywhere else and then to large windows that give view to the farm; none of the guys are in sight. Most likely somewhere goofing off. All he can see is the fields and farm buildings standing large in the distance.
He doesn’t move and speaks softly, “I should probably go find the others-”
You speak before he can finish his attempt of an excuse, “Come sit with me.” You pat the space on the couch next to yourself. Your voice sounds welcoming but he knows there’s an undertone of mischief.
He makes a quick glance to you and sucks in a breath at the view of your body that’s exposed from your overalls. The glimpse of the curve of your breast disappearing under the denim already makes him feel like he’s seen too much of you. And he has. He’s never seen such bare skin on a girl and he’s never been alone in a room with one either.
“Come sit with me, now.” You’re more stern this time, demanding in a gentle way. Your hand makes small movements, soothing over the material of the couch like you’re warming the space for him.
He visibly swallows as he makes his hesitant steps over to you. His heart is racing and with every beat there is a question of his strength. He sits down on the same sofa but not directly next to you like you want. You smirk nonetheless and turn to face him, sitting with your legs criss-cross now.
With your elbows to your knees you hold your head in your hands, watching the side of his face. You’re again realizing how sculpted his features are. Dark thick hair on his head, eyebrows and lashes too. An array of moles sprinkle his pale face. A sharp nose that sits above pink, full lips. You wonder if he knows of his own beauty. It’s fascinating to see such a person like him in front of you.
He’s sitting with perfect posture, not relaxing into the couch. Alert like a deer that’s waiting for too sudden of movement to pounce away. His eyes just watch the table, reading through the names of the board games that lay there as a way of distracting himself. He’s awkward.
“Uhm… d-does your family own this farm?” he tries for small talk to break the silence. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he makes one quick look over to you. Luckily your overalls sit high up or he’d have a full view of your chest. He can’t help but think of the fact and it makes him shift uncomfortably.
“Do I make you nervous?” you question, seriously so. Brows pulled tight in a furrow with a straight face. You lean in even closer to him, watching for every change on his face.
“Yes,” his response is honestly quick and ends with a tight lip, like he’s holding his breath. He is yet to comprehend what is happening, still in a whirlwind of thoughts of what could—will—happen.
“Why?” Your head tilts slightly to the side, it makes him think of his roommate briefly. And man does he wish he were here to ease the tension.
He doesn’t want to admit that he’s never been in such close proximity with a girl alone before, so he just clears his throat and remains quiet after doing so.
Curiously, you bring a hand up with a pointed finger and brush the tip of it over the mole on the side of his nose. He jolts back at the sudden touch, his cheeks flushing a warm pink. His eyes now watch you with gentle confusion. He touches the same spot you did with a trembling hand.
“You have a constellation on your face. So many moles… Do you have a girlfriend?”
His face burns a little more, both from the observation and the question. He shakes his head, sitting himself further into the couch and further away from you. He can’t quite understand the situation. Are you messing with him? You seem too serious for such. Maybe you’re just weird like he initially thought. Either way he can feel his faith slipping; he is cupping holy water in hands during an earthquake.
“Did I do somethin’ wrong? Am I not pretty?” You pout to be playful with him, acting as if his actions are offending you. He takes it literally though.
“No!” his hands rest on his knees and he holds them hard, trying to find stability despite sitting down. “Y-you are… pretty,” his words grow quieter, like he’s sharing a secret. “I just don’t know you or why you want to talk to me.”
“Hm.” You lean your head back against the couch. With your eyes still on his face, you speak just as quietly, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.” After some beats of muted air you speak up again, but with more presence, “You came to work here. Why?”
“A man was handing out flyer ads at the church. I wanted a summer job.”
Is he always this direct and boring? And church, of fucking course. You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the back cushion and even closer to the man. Your knees touch the side of his body and his thigh. He looks like he’s trying to control his breathing, to feign lack of disturbance, but his face says everything you need to know.
You place a hand on his thigh and his whole body stiffens at the action. Your smirk to yourself. It’s only resting there on the top of his jeans. “You act like a girl has never touched you before.” You give him a soft squeeze and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Well? Has a girl ever touched you?”
He shakes his head quickly, “No,” he breaks, feeling overwhelmed and wrong, “and I don’t think you should be. It’s against the churches values-”
“At your age you still follow the rules?” Your hand slides lower and back up his thigh, it’s a slow and teasing motion. There’s enjoyment in how scared he’s becoming.
Sunghoon knows that this is only going to lead him down a path he swore to God not to take. And if his parents were to know that in his first year away from home in the summer since college was locked in a lodge with a promiscuous girl he’d have it handed to him. The thought of their wrath makes him shiver all the more.
“I just don’t want to sin.” His eyes close and he bites down onto his lip again. He no longer cares if a stranger sees him as a loser or prude. His virtue is being tested in real time, and he’s feared facing this battle many times in the night because even in his dreams he loses.
“I’m only touching you. How is it a sin?” The tone of your voice changes, it’s soft like the hand that moves closer to in between his thighs. Your fingertips press into his clothed skin here and there, curiously feeling him up. You just try to get a reaction out of him. There’s a warm feeling in your stomach that you don’t recognize; it’s faintly familiar.
“Your hand isn’t supposed to be… there.” He makes a strained sound, something like a low whine, as your hand ghosts over his cock.
You look down to your movements for the first time and realize he’s sporting a half chub. You snicker quietly, cupping him in your palm. “Then why are you getting hard, Sunghoon? Do you like the way I’m touching you? I bet you’ve thought about doing this before too.”
He makes another noise, a whimper. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes and accept what’s happening. He also can’t find it in himself to stop you, or get up and leave. This wasn’t just a struggle with evil’s temptation but his own biological nature. Something yet to be explored, something that’s been scratching at his ribcage for years to be fed.
There’s too much he can’t admit in this moment. Starting with how he enjoys the sound of your voice, the slight accent and dialect difference he picks up. How the way his name leaves your lips makes him want to crumble like a burning church. And how he silently likes the fact he can’t control the way his body is reacting to your hands on him.
It’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. And he is weak.
“Answer me, Sunghoon.” Your hand presses down on him, feeling the growing hardness under your palm. You give him a small squeeze, massaging over the bulge. To your surprise he feels big. Your eyebrows quirk at this and then you look back to his face. A single tear runs down his face and you find satisfaction in it. “Lying is a sin too,” you remind him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hands fist the couch cushions at his sides. He grips the material so tight that his knuckles turn pink through the pale of his skin. His chest rises and falls through slow and deep breaths.
“You shouldn’t feel sorry for something that makes you feel good.” You palm over him a few more times, drawing out little moans and whimpers from him. He’s struggling to sit still. You can even feel him try not to push his hips back up into you; if only he would admit that he wants it. He’s practically pulsing beneath you, like there’s never been such a rush of blood to his cock in his life. You sigh dramatically and pull your hand away from him, sitting back to give him space. “That’s too bad. A good dog will always be loyal, huh?”
His eyes shoot open when he feels your hand is gone. He looks at you desperately with wet eyes, a small pout to his lips. You make him feel sick for wanting to ask why you stopped, or if he did something bad for you to take away his short-lived pleasure.
You smirk at his expression, so pitifully beautiful with want. “Have you ever touched yourself?” you ask, placing your hand over his that hasn’t let go of the couch. It takes you back when he flips his hand around to hold onto yours, clingy and wretched. His thumb brushes over your knuckles. Repulsed, you react quickly and take your hand away from him at his impulsive intimacy. It makes him frown with a meek whimper.
He shakes his head slowly, looking down to his lap. “I can’t.” He knows he’s not allowed to. His father was adamant through his puberty that he mustn’t succumb to his body’s natural taste for sin. He was told that sometimes the devil had a funny way of sneaking into a man’s mind. That Satan would haunt boys in their sleep to wake them up with guilt of uncontrollable lust to be like him.
“But you like when I do it, right?” You rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. His eyes look from your face to the thin opening of your overalls where your chest can be seen from the angle. He bites down hard and nods slowly. You coo, moving your hand back to his still hard, clothed cock. “I can make it go away if you want. You want that?”
He’s battling all the repressed things he’s been too afraid to explore; fearful of the swing of his parents belt he felt once long ago after being caught in a misunderstanding. In spite of it, he nods again. “It hurts.. Please, help me.” His voice is so quiet. Even he doesn’t want to hear his own pathetic begging.
Your fingers find the zipper of his jeans then you tug it down slowly as you stare at him. “You have to pull them down for me, okay? I can’t help you with just this.”
Sunghoon freezes for a second knowing he has control over being the one to take out his own cock. Yet apprehension leaves in a breath. Then he’s pulling the clothing down to his knees with frantic haste. You didn’t expect him to take everything off so fast but there’s a sense of pride in how eager you’ve made him become in such a short time.
You weren’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. His cock is as beautiful as him. Pale and raging pink, crying at the tip much like his eyes. He’s also big, bigger than you knew dicks could be. You thought they’d be ugly, gross and worm-like. But his is clean and pretty. It’s your first time seeing one in person; you wouldn’t let him know that.
You take him bare in your hands, feeling him like a foreign object. More curious of his body than in his pleasure in the moment. His body tenses then relaxes against the couch. A shaky, breathy moan leaves his lips. His eyes flutter at the contact of skin.
You squeeze him, making his moan weakly again. It’s heavy in your hand. Truly just a stick of warm flesh. A part of you wants to squeeze him as hard as you can just to see if it can break, but you withhold on hurting him for now. Not wanting to scare him too much in hopes of exploring him further through the summer.
Your hand wraps around the length as much as it can, pads of fingertips brushing over every vein and curve as you slowly move your hand up and down. When your thumb circles around his tip and flicks the leaking hole, his body lurches forward with a loud cry of a moan from him. You wonder if he’ll cum in the next few seconds of simply touching him.
“I think you’re a slut for a little pleasure, Sunghoon.” You use your palm to gather his precum, circling over the tip to smear the thick cream around. Then you drag it back down himself, wetting his cock in his own prerelease. It slides easier now, your hand. You move faster, jerking him off in lazy, inexperienced motions. Not that he would know anyways. “You gave into lust so easily, didn’t you? Must’ve wanted this for so long. Your body’s nasty, eager for it.”
In his ears, you make the nasty words sound delicious. And he wants to devour more and more, like the starved man he is. His hips snap up into your hard, sudden and rough. You wrap your free arm over his shoulders, a hand sneaking up into his hair to tug aggressively on the thick dark locks. You’re pulling his head back, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t be a whore. I’m helping you. I didn’t say fuck my hand.”
“Ahsh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he whines, tears burning his eyes, “it, it f-feels good. I feel so good.” His head falls to lean against yours, face burying into your hair. His head makes little shakes as he begins to cry, telling himself no, no.
“Shut up...” You don’t like how close he is to you. You only like doing so to tease him, but when he does it, it makes you feel a fiery anger in your chest and belly. Uncomfortable. Smothering.
Your hand works in sloppy motions. Pumping his pulsing cock to reach his orgasm. At the tip your wrist makes flicks with your thumb, working him up further and further.
He stutters out incoherent apologies into your hair throughout his sobs of wanton, whimpering moans. Everything about his body is sensitive to the new sensations. He can’t help but move his hips up into your hand, humping the small fist that’s fucking down onto him.
Confused by the warm, tight feeling flexing of his abdomen he whines against you, “I can’t- I can’t take it. My body feels weird now. Mmph, ‘m sorry. I don’t know what’s h-happening.” His body feels volcanic, ready to burst.
You continue your movements, jerking his reflexing length until he’s cumming into your hand. It’s a heavy load of thick, creamy mess. His voice is too close to your ear as he moans a drawn out needy sound. Your face remains plain while you pump him until he’s milked dry. His body flinches and curls into yours through the aftershocks, clearly overstimulated and over-sensitive. His arms snake around your waist to pull you against him.
You stare down at your hand that was earlier covered in the blood of a lamb and now the cum of a virgin. It looks like fucking snot, you realize with repulse. Without thinking you bring your hand up and lick the strange release. Your face scowls at the unknown taste so you just wipe the rest on your overalls. “You are disgusting,” you mutter.
Sunghoon remains silent aside from his sniffles, eyes peeking through his bangs to watch what you’re doing. He still hasn’t stopped clinging to your side, as if you could save him from his first lustful sin.
You push yourself up and off the couch, his body slightly falls to the side where he was leaning on you but he catches himself. He watches you with sad, scared eyes. You stare blankly in return then look out the window to see the group of men walking around the picnic table they ate at earlier.
“Farmhands will be leaving soon. Clean yourself up in the bathroom.” You don’t spare him another look, you just walk to the front door, unlock it, and leave. You ignore the way he looked like a sad abandoned puppy. Something about it angered you in the same way he was being clingy.
You walk back to your house with a slight skip to your steps. As you step through your front door, you’re about to head upstairs to your room but stop in your tracks because your mother speaks.
“Hate him all ya want,” your mothers words slur, she speaks slowly and tired-like, “but he was a good man. He used to love me… And then you came along.” You turn to the living room on your left where your mother lays on the couch, wine glass in hand and eyes heavy lidded. “I know what yer capable of. I’ve seen the things ya do on this farm, in this home.. When ya think no one is watching.. He just might be right about you.” You glare at her now. “There is something evil in ya, child. Leave that boy outta yer wickedness.”
Her wine glass falls to the floor from her fingers and she groans, turning to her side. You stare at her for a moment before walking up to your room.
Meanwhile Sunghoon spends his next 20 minutes in a spiral of guilt and shame. He cleans himself up in the restroom like you told him to. Then waits, watching outside the window for when the boys are gathered around the truck they drove in from the bus stop to leave in. It was hard for him to get the tears to end. He fell right into sin’s lustful trap and it made him feel so- No, it only made him feel hurt. Stupid. Bad.
On his bus ride back into the city he prays. Sitting in back, alone with his indignity, and head bowed low so no one could see his red rimmed, glossy eyes. Time goes by so fast that he nearly misses his stop to get off.
He ignores his roommate when he’s home. Jake, excited and curious of Sunghoon’s first day, is left cold. Sunghoon showers for longer than usual. He scrubs so harshly at his skin he turns red; unable to feel clean no matter how much he washes. He doesn’t eat dinner because he feels he doesn’t deserve to. He gets into bed earlier than most days too. He tries to sleep but the day haunts him, keeping him awake.
He’s up all night in tears, face in his pillow with the blanket thrown over his head, trying to hide from He who watches. The begs of forgiveness seem endless.
“Dear God,” he whimpers, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He doesn’t sleep much that night because he can’t find it in himself to stop humping into his mattress in hopes to chase and achieve the feeling you gave him earlier. His hips rock his aching hard cock into the bed, anguished yet titillated. “Please, forgive me. Forgive me. I’m so sorry.” He continues to cry, drowning in his pillow, knowing he will do it again.
The next day on the farm is an early morning for everyone. Sunghoon sits quietly in the truck with the other summer volunteer farmharms. They talk amongst each other about the day’s schedule of duties and tasks. He struggles to keep his eyes open, head leaning against the window despite its bumps from the uneven dirt road. He thought about calling it quits on the whole job after yesterday, but couldn’t bring himself to. It’s for selfish reasons too. The ones that deepen his guilt.
The arrival to the farm is quicker than anticipated. Sunghoon forces himself to be more alert and awake, starting to pick up on the conversations between the others as he exits the parked truck.
“Do you think it’s still hanging there?” One says. “The lamb of slaughter?” Another dumbly asks with a snort. “Well yeah, dipshit. You guys think that girl did it? She was weird as hell.” A third voice chimes in, “Being covered in blood and then leaving a dead animal hanging from a tree is creepy as fuck. The lady was right, stay the hell away from her.” He laughs. The others walk away in continuous chatter, leaving Sunghoon by the truck.
Sunghoon is confused by this conversation and deeply disturbed. He doesn’t follow or press them with questions though. But it will give him much to think about for the day. He’s so exhausted from the lack of sleep, he wonders if he even heard them all correctly at all. Yeah, your whole introduction was strange but killing an animal and acting like nothing happened and then toying with him on the same day? Was all that really something a girl like you would do? He can’t say for sure because he doesn’t know you.
He goes about his morning tasks lazily. His mind is too busy with the thoughts of you. He thinks of when or if he’ll see you today. You haven’t shown around the farm all day. It’s only an hour before noon, he tries to rationalize with himself. He still ponders throughout his work. What time will you come? Will you mysteriously show up like yesterday? Will you touch him again? Will you let him feel good? Is he forgivable or going to burn in hell for wanting more?
He shakes his head to rid it of the thoughts. Perhaps he’s too hopeful. After lunch time he goes back to the farmers lodge to take a nap. At least that’s the realistic excuse he used. He struggles to even fall asleep because he’s so anxious about listening for any sound of you possibly coming back here.
His eyes, sullen and tired, just can’t stay open after half an hour of waiting. So eventually he does fall asleep. You never show up. When he wakes up from his long needed nap he somehow feels worse knowing you didn’t visit than he did committing his first sin.
The following day of work is a repeat. He doesn’t see you at all yet you occupy all of his thoughts. He thinks badly of himself for many reasons.
On the fourth day, you finally decide it’s time to check up on the poor boy. You watched Sunghoon mope around the farm for two days and it was cute at first but you’re getting bored again. You did like how his eyes were always searching around, hopeful that every sound he heard from behind or around corners was you. Knowing you had such an effect on him made you wonder how much more you could do to him.
From the window of your room, you watch when they all arrive. Your mother greets them like she does in the mornings and gives them all tasks that need to be completed for the day. It’s Thursday which means she’ll be out for a few hours to go into town and sort out business for products: cow and goat milk processing for cheeses and soaps. At least you assume considering you overheard her phone call about such the day prior.
You spend the morning around the house, reading and snacking on fruits, waiting for your mother to leave so you can proceed with your plan. There was some effort into your appearance today. You wear a spaghetti strapped white babydoll dress, lined at the bottom with sewn embroideries. It’s simple and flows nicely above your knees when you walk. You hate it because it alludes to soft purity but at least it feels good to dress light in the summer heat. And it might make you all the more approachable to feeble Sunghoon.
After about an hour, your mother finally leaves. You give it about 10 minutes before you’re shoving on your boots and leaving the house. Some of the blood from earlier in the week still stains the brown leather; you did clean them off but clearly not to the best extent. You’re okay with that though, it seems prettier this way to you.
Looking and walking around the property, you see the scattered farmhands busy with different things. The sun isn’t kind today, it’s piercing in brightness and temperature. The sweat begins to seep from your pores in a matter of minutes, making you feel sticky. You run a hand through your tangled hair, fingers getting caught in unbrushed knots that you yank through anyways. You don’t see Sunghoon anywhere that’s directly under the sun. You continue to search around the farm, gaining a few cautious looks from the other workers. As you walk past their gazes you wear a wry smile with a tilt to your head. They look away quickly after being caught staring.
Some wandering in and out of the different barns and coops are done. He wasn’t in any of them though. You greet the animals you pass by and give pats to some of the cows. “Have you guys seen him nearby? I’m not a fan of hide and seek.” You mumble to one of the goats, scratching lightly beneath its chin while it chews away at grains and hay. It maas in return. You pull your hand back out from the stable then leave to continue the manhunt.
It’s when you’re walking by the horses’ stables that you see they’ve already been cared for, telling you that someone was here already. You glance to the smaller shed nearby, having a suspicious inkling that it's where Sunghoon is. You walk to the shed and see yourself inside. And he is. He has his back turned to you, standing at a work bench table and cleaning something off.
You walk up behind him, the sound of your footsteps being dulled by the scattered hay on the wooden floors; he doesn’t notice that you entered the space, clearly lost in his own thoughts. You tap his shoulder which makes him spin around in surprise, dropping the brushes he was cleaning.
Sunghoon’s eyes are wide at the sight of you standing so close to him. You can tell he’s lost sleep by the dark circles around his eyes and how his complexion is impossibly paler. His mouth is stuttering to find words, opening and closing.
You step closer to him and he steps back, his backside now pressing against the table. It wobbles on the uneven wooden stilts that hold it up. Reflexively, his hands reach back to hold onto the table, but he’s using it for his own stability. You simply stand there in between his legs, staring up at his face and taking in all the details that differ from the last time you saw him. He swallows, quietly watching your face in return.
“I haven’t seen you around.” Sunghoon speaks first, his voice a soft surrender. You feel his breath on your face.
“I know. I saw you though. You missed me.” You state bluntly, taking note of the little fangs he has for teeth. He probably bites good, you think, licking the back of your own teeth.
“If you saw me then why didn’t you…” he trails off into a quiet again, closing his eyes for a moment with a sigh. “I wouldn’t call it that.” His eyes open again as he feels your hands on his chest, sliding up his white tank and underneath the sleeves of his denim jacket to his shoulders. He bites down, suddenly stiff.
Ignoring his response you continue, “How can you wear this when it’s so warm out?” Your hands slide over his shoulders and down his toned arms, the jacket slips down to reveal the toned limbs. Your eyebrows raise at the sight yet your face remains relatively blank. “You’ve got muscle. Good for farm work.” Small hands continue to run over the smooth milk-like skin, learning every curve of his lean built physique. It’s not sexual, just exploratory.
Sunghoon sucks in a breath, watching you inspect him. He begins to feel flustered, relishing in the contact of skin on his. You notice his tense body and ask him if it’s okay, to which replies a raspy stutter, “Y-yeah.” Your hands slide down his arms and back up to his shoulders. Then down his chest and body to stop at the waistline of his jeans. He has a nice body; he must be athletic. You don’t care to ask in what ways. Your fingers dip into his jeans just slightly to pull him in closer to you, he gasps, his growing cock pressing against your stomach.
“Sunghoon,” You ridicule him, tsking under your breath at the pressure you feel of his arousal. “Already?” You look up at him but he can’t meet your eyes, feeling embarrassed. You play with the waistline, your fingertips running back and forth between the denim and his skin. “Is this sinning?” It’s a soft question yet mocking. He only shakes his head, nervously gnawing at his bottom lip. “Do you want to?” He whimpers, slowly nodding his head. You take your hands off him, crossing your arms. “You have to tell me. Look at me and tell me.”
He looks back at you dispirited. He knows that you know what he wants. And here you are making him admit it outloud, both to you and God. “Please.” He begs quietly, hoping it only reaches your ears and not the sky’s. “I want you.”
There’s that feeling again. The lit match that falls from your throat to the gasoline of your stomach that erupts in flames. Fire to your abdomen and loins; it’s an angry feeling, sparked by his honest admit of want, and for you specifically. You watch him with narrowed eyes while mumbling, “you revolt me.”
He doesn’t reply to your venomous insult. It stings to hear the degrading words in both his heart and pants; he thinks himself disgraceful too.
You drop to your knees, hands finding place back on his jeans to undo his zipper. He stares down at you in bated breath, hands still gripping tight on the table behind him. His are pulled down slowly, purposely so. You watch him writher, body and face. “Did you do it again?” you question, looking up at him from below. He would never avow to how the sight of you on your knees alone makes him ache all the more.
He wants to tear his eyes away from you but he can’t. The image of you in your white dress on the ground before him needs to be burned into his memory. He stutters a mumble of words but you don’t catch anything, if he even said a coherent response at all. You ask again, pinching his thigh. He tries to hum over the strained noise in the back of his throat, “Yes.. I mean no! B-but I didn’t touch myself.”
You try not to giggle, biting the inside of your cheek. Knowing he wanted to feel that way again but couldn’t on his own gave you a funny sense of power over him. One of your hands traces the outline of his hard cock through his boxer briefs. “You make a mess?” He shivers at the feeling of your breath on his suffocating length. He breathes out a ‘no’ while you lick a strip over the material. “Why not? I showed you how.”
He moans softly, trying not to let his hips chase after the feeling that he’s been after for days. “You know I can’t,” he exhales. You roll your eyes, mouthing and licking at him languidly. Your hands are still half tugging at the material that keeps him hidden. A faint pool of precum quickly stains his boxers.
“Sunghoon,” you look up at him with your chin resting on the bulge. He swallows hard, acknowledging you with a hum. “You will never be free from it. The sin I let you taste will forever linger on the tip of your tongue, begging and licking to taste more in crave. No holy blessed water can possibly cleanse you even if you drown in it.”
His bottom lip pouts out with a little droning whine. He should defend himself, say that his faith is stronger than he is and that his soul is saveable by mercy. But a part of him also feels that doesn’t want to be. His eyes begin to well with tears.
“Not even a god could make you pure again,” you give him a small smile and pat his naked thigh before pulling down his underwear. His cock now free slaps his stomach to which he breathes out heavily. You grab him with both hands, giving him one last look before taking the leaking head into your mouth. Hands working on him steadily.
“T-that’s dirty!” he leans forward with a low sounding moan, his hands on your head and in your hair. Your eyes go wide at this. “Why would you put that in your mouth?!” he gasps, the warm wetness around his tip making him dizzy. “This is so vulgar, oh God, forgive me.” he cries, not pulling your mouth off of him but holding you there.
You circle your tongue around the tip and over his leaking slit, licking the beads of precum that leak out. It makes your grimace before you lean back, a wet pop as your mouth leaves. “Enough of your penitence, and take your hands off me.” It sounds like a warning to which he complies without question, only a hushed apology. He’s the one who wants to be touched anyways, not you.
You take him into your mouth again, your lips wrap around him in a painful stretch to accommodate his size. He sits heavy on your tongue that lays flat underneath, doing what you can with it. Your hands at the base work around him, jerking and squeezing him like you did before. You weren’t really sure what you were doing, mainly just mocking the actions you read about in books. It seems to be working for Sunghoon regardless because he can barely hold himself together. Whining and whimpering through fat tears, whole body shuddering from the overwhelming wet heat of your mouth.
His jaw goes slack, mouth hung open only to elicit a breathless moan. His head rolls back on his neck and his eyes flutter to a close. The feeling of your mouth wrapping around him is hot heaven. His body trembles with the new, sweeping sensation. Stomach already tight with contracting muscles. He thinks he could pass out.
Watching his face, him, discover and feel pleasurable sin is slightly euphoric to you. You’ve seen it in movies and read of it in books, but it was something you never quite fully explored yourself. There’s been a few instances that you did touch yourself; it always felt empty or like something was always missing. There’s little to no excitement when doing it alone in shameful hiding. Witnessing, causing such debauchery is different somehow. Safer in ways you didn’t dwell in thought on. You do wish he would stop crying about it, you find it pathetic of him in a provoked way.
Involuntarily, he thrusts himself down your throat with a guttural groan. You gag and cough around him, tears sting your eyes that make you squeeze them shut—refusing to let a single one dare to escape. Now it felt like a challenge. One to which you wouldn’t back down in fear of looking weak.
Your hands hold his thighs roughly, bruisingly so if you had the strength. You move his body in a small back and forth motion, encouraging him to continue his movements. You’re looking up at him with glazed over eyes and a slight nod. He chokes a sob at the sight, you on your knees not to pray but to devour him.
“Ah, I- I’m sorry. Your mouth is so wet, so warm.” He starts off with shallow thrusts, dragging his cock along your wet muscle. His hips stutter while his world seems to be crashing down. “This is so dirty. You look so dirty. And—ngh—it’s.. it’s so good. It’s so good,” he babbles, pushing himself as far down into your mouth as he can. His tip kisses the back of your throat making you gag around him. Your nails digging into the flesh of his strong legs. He can’t stop moaning and whimpering, becoming a slave to pleasure.
He watches your face. Hollowed cheeks sucking and swallowing around him, the tightness of your throat around him hugging and contracting through chokes that reverberate your body to his cock. The spit that leaks from your lips and all over him is obscene, such a sinful mess. He so badly wants to grab your head and force himself down further, but his nails dig into the wood of the table instead.
“Hm, I can’t—” he moans your name, thrusting rougher now. His whole body crumbling in on itself, chasing the feeling of release.
Then there’s the sound of footsteps and a few voices that follow. Sunghoon sucks in a deep breath, taking a fist to his mouth to bite down onto. He looks at you in fear because of the proximity of the other farmhands right outside. This only makes you smirk around him, a glint of evil in your eyes. He shakes his head hurriedly, stopping his movements—as if that would make you both disappear.
You push yourself off his cock, licking over your cracked and saliva covered lips. You bring a finger to your lips and shush him. “Be quiet or they’ll find out what a nasty whore you are. Unless you want that.” Your voice is quiet and raspy from the abuse of him fucking himself down your throat. You stare into his eyes intently before taking him back in. He glances from you to the door of the shed, his body shaking.
You slurp and suck him up, purposely loud and sloppy. A hand jerking off the base that doesn’t quite fit in your mouth. He cries quietly with his mouth open, meek and desperate sounds escape that he can’t withhold. “Please…” He’s whimpering, begging for something that he doesn’t know the context of.
“Do you think the extra feed is in this one?” A voice questions, the door being opened just a crack.
Sunghoon quickly tries to bend down for his jeans but you slap his hand away, pushing him back into the table. You grip his thighs and force yourself to take all of him down. You gag around him, eyes never leaving his panicky and fucked out face. His face silently begs for you that enough is enough but you don’t stop, because a part of you knows he doesn’t want you to either.
“It doesn’t hurt to check, does it?” The other replies with a light chuckle. “Could take a break for some shade too while we’re at it.” The door opens slowly with an agonizing creak, sunlight barely pouring.
Each passing second feels like an eternity to him. The door is still only cracked, not enough for them to see inside but it’s cutting it close. His cock twitches at the thought of being caught with his dick down the throat of the farmer’s daughter. A blazing adrenaline rushes through him.
Sunghoon can’t bear it any longer. His hands find purchase on the back of your head, pushing himself completely into your mouth. His hips stutter with a whimper on his lips as the hot cum pours down your throat. “Ah, sh- ngh!” You smack at his legs for him to release the hold, choking for air to breathe. You instinctively swallow around him, consuming his load of sin.
“You dumbass! The horses are already fed, let’s just go for a water break.” The door slams back on itself to a close. Their footsteps can be heard walking away.
Sunghoon breathes heavily, letting go of you. His body instantly relaxing back with his elbows on the table to support him. Meanwhile you fall onto your ass, a hand around your throat while you gasp for air through rough coughs. “What the fuck did I say about putting your hands on me?” You rasp before coughing again. The taste of him sits on the back of your tongue no matter how much you swallow.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “we shouldn’t get caught.” He pulls his pants and boxers back up then extends a hand to you, an offering to help you stand back up.
You scoff, ignoring his hand and stand up on your own. You brush the dirt and stray strands of hay from your knees. “Whatever. We both got what we wanted.” You start to turn for the door to leave the shed with the thought of brushing your teeth in mind.
Sunghoon, confused as to what you could’ve gotten out of helping him, just reaches for your hand. He grabs you and pulls you back to look at him. His eyes are sad, maybe even a little afraid by your haste to leave. “Y-you’re just going to leave me again?” He sounds broken by the fact.
“What?” You can’t help but breathe a laugh, “Did you expect me to do more?” You ask with raised brows.
“No! No, not like that.. But..” He swallows his pride, “I- I don’t know. Just don’t leave yet. Please.”
You blink at him, scanning his features like a robot in calculation. The pleading of his expression and his words aggravate you. A fiery burning to your insides and the skin that he touches, that he reached for. You look down to his tight grip on your hand before yanking it away. You don’t say anything more, and neither does he. He wipes his eyes from whatever salty wetness is still there.
A moment of silence solidifies your decision. You beckon him to follow you out and he does.
For the rest of his work day you remain. You try not to think about why. But subconsciously you know it’s because for the first time someone willingly wants to be by your side. At first you imagine it’s because of what you’ve done for him—gave him what any man desires: pleasure. A man falling into temptation is far too easy.
Though he doesn’t ask for more and he doesn’t bring it up. Almost like it never happened.
It seems like he really just wants to be around you. There’s little said between each other. It’s just idle farm work with company. And it’s more peaceful than you expected it to be. He didn’t touch you, question you, or do much at all to bother you in general.
Sometimes he stares at you, but you do the same to him. He even gives a sheepish smile when he catches you; it doesn’t get returned. That doesn’t bother him though. He thinks you look beautiful on the farm in your dress with dirt covered hands and hair messy from the wind. He hopes to tell you that one day but for now he stays shy, still weary and afraid.
The sun shines relentlessly unless a cloud mercifully passes by. The breeze is rare yet kind. The animals make their sounds to sing a collective song. The trees and crops sway like waving hands of hellos and goodbyes, depending on where you’re headed to or from. It’s not so bad.
Two weeks go by. Time flies by for both you and Sunghoon. He comes to work during the week, and he spends his weekends missing you. He doesn’t know what you two are to each other, and he’s too scared to ask. There’s definitely been changes to the dynamic, however. Subtly so. You still don’t smile, or let him touch you. You roll your eyes and insult him if he’s too emotional. But you’re there.
Certainly not everyday, but most, you spend his work days with him. It’s easier to be around one another. There can be small talk, usually about the farm or the weather. Still much to be learned about on a personal level, but he’s fine with the pace of the relationship (outside of the unholy acts that are committed). Sometimes you even end up helping him. Or at least he thinks of it that way. In reality you don’t like how he does things and take over to do it yourself.
You still tease him in your cruel ways. Always ending with him in a mess because he’s easily worked up by your handsy curiosity. He caves into you every time because he can’t fight the divinity that you show him.
There are other times where you confuse him. You suggest a water break knowing he’d gone hours without hydration under the summer heat. You insist on having him take a break under a roof away from the sun when his skin gets too sweaty or red. Which is followed by a reminder that sunscreen is important if he wishes to keep his milky complexion. It’s critical statements that you provide him, but he can’t help to think it’s a weird way of showing you care.
Sure, it could be seen as you selfishly saying these things because it’s what you want for yourself, but in the back of his mind he’s very aware of how you watch and cater to him. It makes his heart jump every time and butterflies swarm his stomach. He can’t help it. The little things, the small acts of kindness—that you might not even intend—make him delusionally overthink.
On the third weekend since starting his summer job, Jake can’t help all the questions he’s been building up and dying to ask. Jake doesn’t understand what Sunghoon has been going through, especially when his moods change so drastically. At first, Sunghoon was self isolating and pouty, clearly in his own head and sulking. But then he would come home from work beaming with an afterglow to his aura. And then on the weekends he was back to his reclusive, depressed state.
Sick of being left out of Sunghoon’s inner turmoil, Jake finally pesters his friend.
“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jake stands in the doorway of Sunghoon’s room, staring at his friend who’s laying face down in his bed.
“I don’t know…” Sunghoon’s words are muffled in his pillow.
Jake walks in with a sigh and sits at the end of the bed. He playfully slaps Sunghoon’s leg. “Dude, just tell me. You’re obviously going through something. You know I can keep a secret. I won’t judge.”
Sunghoon rolls over on his back, his hands clasped together over his stomach as he stares up to the ceiling. He confides in Jake, telling his story from the beginning of when he first met you. He stutters over his words when he admits to the sinful acts he partook in with you. He tells Jake of his guilty conscience and how he enjoyed indulging in the feelings. Then he tells Jake about how he simply likes your company even without the sexual circumstances involved. How he’s mystified by your complex personality and only wishes to know you more. However, he does leave out the viciousness of your nature, since a part of him doesn’t quite believe in it.
“It seems like you’re starting to develop a crush.” Jake laughs lightly, “And if it’s about religion, don’t overthink it too much. Nobody dies completely pure.” He reassures him. “You should show her more of you. That you like her too.”
Sunghoon groans and covers his face at the terrifying suggestion. If only you were that easy to approach in such a vulnerable way. “I guess… I’ll consider it.”
The next day is Sunday. Jake and Sunghoon attend church as normal. Sunghoon participates less in his prayers and songs than usual. His mind is too preoccupied with all he has going on in life. He feels guilt and frustration.
Sunghoon, lost in his own world, fails to realize that his best friend—Jake—battles something similar internally.
You’re never as alone as you think you are if you take a better look around. Everyone is riddled with their own self disgust, guilt, or shame. How else would the churches be so full?
Entering the fourth week of summer should feel easier than it does for Sunghoon. The work seems to be picking up regarding responsibilities. The weather is only becoming less forgivable. The peak is yet to hit, but that only means the seasonal storms are right around the corner. More care is needed in the fields and barns in terms of protection in case of unpredictable weather.
Aside from the work, Sunghoon is anxious because of you. He hasn’t seen you yet today and he feels nervous about it. Perhaps he has grown too clingy, finding close comfort in knowing you’re there with him on the farm. There’s a sense of safety when you’re in the line of sight; you make things easier for him and he enjoys the presence.
While he’s watering plants and checking the sprinklings through the fields, an older man approaches him. It’s a familiar face that he’s seen around a few times over the past month. The man waves with a smile and Sunghoon does the same.
“It’s amazing what you’ve done, boy.” The man begins, Sunghoon questions where he’s going with the start because he’s just an extra hand of help and doesn’t feel he’s accomplished or improved the farm in drastic ways. “I’ve worked here, hm, well I’ll be damned! Nearly 15 years! And I’ve never once seen that farm girl talk to anyone. Much less spend time.” the man chuckles.
“Oh!” Sunghoon blushes and hopes it’s only mistaken as feverish from the summer. He smiles small and stares down to the bundle of plants he brought with him to the farm today. He feels special knowing this much of you. “She’s something…”
“Sometimes I’d see her talk to herself and the animals.” The man pulls out a cigarette and lighter to smoke. “She’d walk around aimlessly like a ghost. Used to scare the hell outta me.” As he laughs, smoke escapes his lungs. He wheezes a little before continuing, “But now she follows and watches you like she’s worshipin’. If only she did the same with her daddy. Although with a face like yours, I can’t blame the girl.”
“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” Sunghoon, bemused, watches the man smoke and laugh between weak coughs. “She has a dad?” His last question is overroad by the man who speaks over him.
“You keep up your work, kid. I outta get back to mines too.” And then he’s walking away with a low chuckle, shaking his head to himself.
Sunghoon’s aware of your mother. He always thought it was just the two of you running things. He’s never once seen a man, your father, leave the house or so much so be around it. This gives him more to think about, especially on the fact that he still doesn't know much about you at all. You’re still an enigma to him, but he wants everything.
By the afternoon when all the guys are finishing up their break, you finally come out of the house. With the sound of the front door opening, Sunghoon is quick to straighten his posture and find your eyes. You’re already looking at him, watching him and his surroundings with no expression. His cheeks burn and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips.
Two and a half days without seeing you feels like so much longer.
He stands up from the picnic table, grabbing his newspaper wrapped bundle of greenery and shyly hiding it behind his back. He walks over to you, tripping over his feet as he approaches the porch steps to the house. You stand there in front of the door but at the top of the few stairs, arms crossed and amused.
He’s diffident, arms behind him and modestly attempting to hide how nervous he feels on the inside. His stomach is doing flips, his heart racing. On top of already sweating. He feels like he could throw up his lunch right in front of your feet. He swallows thickly before slowly bringing his hands out in front of himself.
“I,” he clears his throat, “ehem, I got these for you.” With outstretched arms, the bundle of flowers shake in his trembling hands. He suddenly feels he’s too nervous to even meet your eyes, so he watches the chipped paint wood of the front porch steps.
You just stand there, watching him with wide eyes and your heart in your throat. Your mouth is lost for words, glancing around at the few farmhands who haven’t left yet and are staring at Sunghoon’s exchange in a similar bewilderment. Some are trying to keep themselves from bursting out into laughter.
“Are you some kind of stupid?” You whisper harshly for only him to hear, snatching the flowers out of his hands. “Why the hell would you do this?” Your words like your tone are mean, but in your chest there’s a raging pounding. It’s a seething raw emotion that doesn’t know how to be dealt with. You’ve only just stepped out of the house and your body feels like it’s inside a furnace.
Sunghoon’s head shoots back up to look at you, his face and heart drop. “I-I’ve never had a girlfriend before so I wasn’t sure what to do.. This is what boyfriends do, right?” He takes a hand to scratch at the back of his head. Inner turmoil takes over and he thinks he’s fucked up. He bites at his lip, doing his best not to instantly cry in regret.
You notice this and sigh, irritated. You look from the neatly wrapped white roses and tulips and back to Sunghoon. “So you are stupid,” you mumble before taking your own bottom lip between your teeth. A part of you wants to sneer, but you spin on your heels to hide the warmth that floods your face in substitution. “I’m throwing them away,” you announce, opening the door and walking back inside your house.
Sunghoon, broken, just drops his head and turns back. A few of the farmhands are snickering from not too far away, chattering among each other and eyeing Sunghoon. He wishes God would smite him on the spot from the humiliation.
Wanting to avoid everything for a little while, he thinks of heading to the lodge to lay down in hiding. But before he can walk away, the front door of your house swings open once more. He glances back at you, meeting your eyes like he always seems to do.
“Done for the day already?” You call over to him, now leaning over the banister of the porch with crossed arms.
Sunghoon, unable to refute you, offers a weak smile and shakes his head. “No.”
He walks back over to you and you meet him halfway. You don’t say anything else. You don’t bring up the fact that he had bought you flowers or confused the odd relationship you share for dating. It’s cute in all its blind innocence, but that just goes to show you that you have more work to do with him.
You don’t think of messing with him today. He’s distinctly grown too clingy with how much time you’ve spent with him. Yet you can’t ignore him either. The two of you carry out the rest of the day’s farm work in silence. The inner fury you feel with him doesn’t seem to go away, despite how he hasn’t said much or even brushed skin with you.
You don’t know how you’re remaining pacific by his side. The rampaging of your heart strings tug like a screaming instrument just from being next to him. How he can keep walking tall, stare at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, or even smile at you is beyond what you know is capable of humans. Men like him only existed in books and movies. You wonder if he’s perhaps playing a game like you.
By the time he’s in the truck to go back to town to catch a bus into the city, you’re sitting at the lake dock. Criss crossed legs, a bouncing knee, and fingernails being ripped at by your teeth. You stare blankly at the water, hoping for that sense of serenity to encapsulate you. It never seems to come. It just feels cold.
So you decide on punishing him for making you feel this way.
You don’t leave your house for the next three days. You don’t make yourself known, heard or seen. However, you’re peeking out every window of your house to get any chance of a view of him. You hate yourself for being so curious of him in the first place. What was supposed to be good fun has only left you feeling angry. Taking his innocence was never going to heal you, or even make him like yourself. In fact, it’s making you sicker.
And on the night of the fourth Thursday, you’re laying in bed staring at your ceiling. A stuffed animal is hugged tightly to your chest. You can’t sleep and you can’t stop thinking about someone for the first time in your life. No amount of tossing and turning, counting sheep, or button presses to your distorted singing, stuffed bear made it easier.
Somehow, you ended up punishing yourself. You always had a knack for that, historically, but this time felt different. It actually kind of hurt. Being alone came naturally to you, but tonight it hits you just how lonely you’ve always been.
Friday, the farmhands are huddled on the front porch of your house. All the animals are safely away in their designated homes thanks to their help. It started to storm in a heavy downpour only minutes ago. What started out as a dark gray gloom and windy rain quickly turned into an early flooded property, illuminated by strikes of flashing lightning and roaring thunder.
You stand dry under the protection of the porch roof by the front door. Watching and listening to your mother suggest the shaking cold, soaked men take shelter in the lodge until the sky lets up so they can head home.
Sunghoon hasn’t spared a look to you all day, but you know that he feels his eyes on you. It’s in the way he shifts awkwardly amongst the men that ignore him. How his eyes are trained low and unfocused yet always trying to move in your direction. His wet hair falls over his face, concealing his emotions you wish to dissect. He comes off as stoic but you know he wears his heart on his sleeve; how his body language speaks volumes.
Your mother pushes past you to get back inside, saying she’ll check the basement for a spare heater that the boys could use at the lodge. There’s something in you that makes you move without thinking. Suddenly a hand is tugging at the bottom of Sunghoon’s damp jacket for his attention. The material is too thin for this weather and the thought of him becoming sick crosses your mind.
“It’s warmer here,” your words, for once, came out soft. Too much so, being lost in the cracking sound of thunder. He looks at you through his bangs. The wave of alleviation from whatever he was dealing with is palpable. His eyes and body almost look relaxed. You tug him towards you once more, insinuating that he follows you.
He does. Like whatever subconscious emotion made you approach him also made him follow you in. As he steps in, he notices the indistinguishable vibes of the farmer’s lodge. It’s updated and cleaner, but similar in aesthetics. A shotgun sits leaning up against the wall by the front door. His brows furrow and eyes narrow. “Those aren’t safe to have lying around…” he mumbles.
You tug him towards the staircase to walk up, “It’s protection. Only my mother and I are here,” is mumbled back as you lead him up the wooden, creaking stairs. Your feet move light and quick, like a mouse in a home not theirs. If your mother saw you, there would be unnecessary consequences. And the possibility of your father’s involvement would only worsen such.
Sunghoon cautiously steps into your bedroom, his body tenses at the sound of you shutting and locking the door. He feels on edge, wrapping his arms around his shivering body and soaked clothes. You move around him to sit on your bed, telling him to remove his sopping attire. He does so with shaking hands, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. He shyly looks around the room while using his hands to cover his manhoon.
His eyes scan over you, sitting quietly on your bed with a look of contemplation that stares past him. A wooden cross hangs on the wall above your bed, the dark wood matches the decadent bed frame. The nightstand nearby has a pile of books and journals with a low light lamp and unlit candle.
The large window has sheer white curtains drawn open and a vase on the windowsill. A glass vase filled with the flowers he gave you earlier in the week. His heart aches at the sight of the still healthy white roses and tulips, and a smile graces his lips. You liar! You kept them! Is what runs through his thoughts.
Without Sunghoon realizing, you got up to grab a towel and drape over the back of his shoulders. He’s taken aback by your ghost-like actions, but offers you a small smile of appreciation. “Thanks…”
You nod for response and glance from him to the vase of flowers he was lost in thought over. You didn’t have it in to explain yourself, mostly because you didn’t understand why you had done so either.
He dries himself off and finds a place to sit at the end of your bed. You’re on the other end with your back pressed to the headboard, watching him, counting every mole you can find on his pale canvas. The stuffed animal you sleep with is being mindlessly fumbled around in your hands.
Sunghoon turns to face you directly, he reaches a hand out, eyes shifting from your face and the winged bear. You shoot him a mean look at first, only holding it closer to yourself before your face softens to slowly extend it out to him.
He takes it with careful hands and looks down to inspect the old toy. Its cream colored fur is dirtied and matted with age. The holographic satin wings on the back have loose stitching and its halo is crooked. Across the chest of the bear reads ‘Jesus Loves Me’ but it’s obvious the sewn name Jesus has been ripped away at. One paw has a red heart embroidered saying ‘press me’. His thumb brushes over the button heart before pressing down. The bear sings in a distorted happy voice the lullaby of Jesus loves me.
“His name is Saint Michael,” you say quietly and he almost doesn’t catch it. Sunghoon can only breathe a laugh because he finds the dichotomy cute. You almost laugh too, but bite your tongue and look back to your empty hands. You don’t know it but he can see you try to fight your little smile. To him, this moment means more than anything; he’s starting to see you’re more tender than you realize. It brings him a sense of surety in knowing that he can break you like you to do him.
Silly as it may seem for a troubled girl, the bear was the only comfort you had throughout childhood. There was no kindness from your father, no solace from your mother, no guide in knowing life or love. But there was Saint Michael, the stuffed angel bear; he may not have defended you in battle but he hugged you back, and that was enough to cherish him like a deity.
Sunghoon crawls across the bed and sits himself next to you, too close for your liking, but you don’t push him away. He hands the stuffie back to you and you place it on the nightstand to face away from you. You lower yourself in the bed, shuffling under the covers of the blanket and he does the same. His skin naked bare yearns for more warmth, yours specifically.
You feel him turn on his side next to you, pressing up against you despite there being enough space on the bed. His movements are awkward and nervous like he is. You feel a certain pressure against your thigh that isn’t his bones or limbs. You spare him a glance, he doesn’t know if it’s a warning or dare.
“...Have I ruined you?” You wonder aloud, looking back to the ceiling.
“No,” he answers quickly, shaking his head against your shoulder. The way he’s missed you in his desire to touch you, hands tingling with want to snake around your waist and pull you in tight. “I think I just want you all the time now. I can’t help it, m’sorry.” He sounds ashamed in his soft mumbles.
“I’ll only keep stripping all that purity from you. Once it’s mine it’ll remain mine, you know that right?” You look back at him before brushing some of his drying hair from his eyes. He tries to lean up into the touch but your hand is taken back. “And I will pretend it’s healing all that’s missing from me. Do you really want to be mine, Sunghoon?” Your words are so gentle yet laced with threat.
“Yes,” he exhales, “I want to be yours. Let me be yours please.” It’s hushed, a secret prayer with hope. His hips push further into the skin of your leg, where the hip meets the thigh. He wouldn’t mind going to Hell if it meant more time with you.
“You beg like a needy barn animal in heat.” You use a hand to cup his face, he sighs into the hold as he eyes flutter to a close. You push your leg in between his, terribly close to his exposed and vibrating body. “So hump me like one.”
“W-what?” he stutters out before licking over his lips, his thighs squeezing around the plush of yours now trapped in his. His eyes already wet with desperate want, staring back at yours.
“Do it. Like it’s mating season and you want to claim me before anyone else.”
A cracked voice whine falls from his lips and he begins to roll his growing bulge against you. You watch as he sucks in breaths between quiet breathy moans. His pink, plump lips pursing and falling open. His eyes try to stay on your face, how close you are to him, but they fall shut sometimes in his basking of rapture. It’s a slutty sight of a faith-sickened boy.
He loves the little to no proximity that there is. His hands find place on your waist, and he’s aware of how that makes you feel, but he can’t stop it. He wants more and more of you. His hands slide up under your shirt, the feeling on your bare skin in his hands makes his body shudder. Untouched, warm flesh for his large hands to explore and learn every curve of.
Even you stiffen at his exploration, holding in your breath as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe. Your shirt lifts up more with his hands and the exposure is daunting like you’re revealing your insides.
The pit of your stomach lights up and you're frozen under his clutch. The pads of his fingers hold you so tight as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. His cock is raging and you can feel every pulse of blood that his heart beat floods to. He’s humping into you desperately, chasing the euphoria that he could never find on his own. Such a delicate, shy boy now driven by lust and longing.
“You’re pathetic and disgusting. You’re practically fucking me through our clothes,” you murmur while you try to push his hands down off you, but his grip won’t let up. Instead his nails dig further into you, a barely sounding broken noise escapes you from the pain. This makes his body collapse further into you, his head dropping between your shoulder and neck. His movements are sloppy and rushed.
“N-no, I’m still good. You make me feel good, I am so good,” he whines, tears beginning to fall from his eyes to your shoulder. You try to imagine his holy water is washing you clean but it only singes.
“Tell me that only I make you feel good, that you’re only good for me.”
“Only you—can only be you to make me good,” he cries against your warmth, rocking himself into you roughly. His leaking cock begins to twitch against you and his hips won’t quit their stuttered jerks.
You hum lightly and run a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He looks up at you with those desperate, wet, dark eyes and you can’t help but acknowledge how pretty he is like this. His puffy cheeks are flushed pink as the tip of his nose. “Only for me,” you mumble.
“Yes, thank you, I am yours. Yes.” His breaths are jagged and heavy. There’s a coiling in his abdomen that feels borderline explosive. You were right, he craves this feeling. It’s surreal to him how he’s gone so long without it. His arms wrap around you completely now, holding you down while his body rolls on top of yours, situated between your legs. His heart hammers against your chest; he wants to mold into you, to become a singular rot.
You squeak a gasp, being caged down by him. Your heart beats with the same veracity. One of your arms wraps around his waist to hold his back while the other holds the back of his head that hasn’t left the safety of your neck. He continuously sobs through meek moans. His hair tickles your skin like sparks while his lips brush over your jaw and neck making the tingle feel like crackling flames.
Under his weight you feel yourself slipping in both confidence and dominance, your body wanting to sink down in submission from the unknown comfort of his control. Your heart aches and you feel something you’ve never felt before. You think you’re scared of it, yet your body pulls him closer. Hand in his hair, tugging with fearful aggression. Nails piercing the skin of his shoulder blade. You’re pliant under his heavy thrusts and sounds of sin.
The rain pours harder outside with whips of harsh winds smacking the window. It’s almost like God’s wrath is screaming to be seen, to shout that He is watching.
Sunghoon’s hard cock is relentless against your core. The rough grind of him is stimulating in ways you’ve never felt before, your body sensitive and starving for more. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan within your closed mouth, hating yourself for feeling this way because it was never supposed to be about you. You are betraying yourself more than your fathers.
The sounds you try to withhold make Sunghoon weaker. He feels uncontrollable, only becoming needier and hungrier with his movements, “I can’t stop. I can’t stop.” He whines, begging for you to vocalize how you feel it too.
You feel like you’re breaking underneath him, and it feels shameful. Like every harsh word your father ever spat at you was true now that you’re a part of the experience and not just the cause. Everything is too much. It takes every ounce of strength you have to turn both of your bodies over. Now sitting up on top of his lap, you can finally breathe again, sighing in relief. He whimpers at the distance between you both but also from the view of you.
He moans your name softly as he grips your hips, pushing himself up into your clothed pussy like he’s fucking you. Your hands push down on his shoulders. You stare into his eyes with a plain expression and contrasting sharp eyes, grinding your hips back down on top of him. It’s hard to ignore the way it makes you feel, watching him fall apart beneath you as his pulsing cock fucks against you, but you manage.
“Cum for me,” you demand quietly, “make a mess and imagine it’s inside me.”
“Holy fu—ngh,” his entire body spasms and shudders with a low groan falling from his open lips. His movements slow down only to become lazier and uncoordinated. You can feel the warm wetness he spills soak through your thin pajama shorts and underwear.
“You’re right. You are good for me,” you coo softly, cupping his face and using your thumbs to wipe away the tears. Your hips circle and swivel slowly on him until his quivering cock finishes cumming.
Sunghoon has a sparkle to his wet eyes. The way the gentle praise left your lips makes him melt, and he can’t stop the flickering glance between your eyes and lips. He breathes heavily through his post clarity. Still he basks in your touch with a hopeful look in his eyes. His tongue slides over his lips before he’s leaning up towards your face, hands affixed to your waist to pull you closer to him.
This makes a wave of panic wash over you, knowing what he wants to do. You shake your head no and pull yourself away, slipping off of his lap only to turn away from him.
“None of that. It’s not what-”
And then there’s a press of lips to your cheek. Your face burns as if a hot coal was what kissed your face. Your eyes go wide, turning to see the boy sitting up next to you. He only wears a shy smile as he sees your reaction.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a week now,” he admits with a small laugh. “Not exactly there but that’s fine. I wish you would let me help you feel good too.” he whispers, looking back to the windowsill where the gifted flowers stood in their vase with the raging storm as their backdrop.
“That’s dumb and I don’t need to,” you reply, still watching him stare forward. Your chest feels painful; it’s an ache like shattered glass trying to piece together in the wrong ways. Stabbing but trying.
“I think you deserve to,” he argues. “But I understand if it’s not what you want. I was really touchy and I shouldn’t have been because you don’t seem like it. I was too caught up in the moment.” His mind goes to the mess he’s still sitting in and he feels self-conscious all over again. “Is it embarrassing how much I need you?”
You blink at him, swallowing the words that were never going to come out because you didn’t even know what they should or would be. So you settle with a simple, “No.”
You think it would kill you to admit how much you actually always wished to be wanted, needed, or loved. A bigger part of you didn’t think you were worthy of it, let alone capable. The world had such a way of saying otherwise. Until it brought Sunghoon to you; the boy who showed you feelings and experiences you never thought possible.
As if he could read your mind, he asks, “Why did you choose me out of everyone?” He falls back onto the bed, laying down and pulling the blanket over himself.
“I think you reminded me of a lamb.”
“Pardon?” His brows furrow.
You lay back down next to him, facing him like he is to you. “Pretty, white, and docile. You were so nervous when I first saw you—sometimes you still are.” You even laugh a little. “When you shook my hand I knew I could do anything to you because you’d let me.”
“You think I’m pretty?” He smiles wide, scooting closer to you.
You scoff with an eye roll, leaning further away from him. “Oh shut up, you’ve seen a mirror.”
And then it’s his turn to laugh a little. He looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises and falls. It kind of hurts you to see him like this because it reminds you of your initial rotten intentions and how they’re dissipating the more you’re with him.
Time passes faster than the two of you realize. There’s light banter and easy conversations. You learn more about Sunghoon. Where he goes to school, what he studies, and who his friends are. He tells you of the sports he used to do and what he does in free time with his best friend. The more you learn about him, the more you understand his naivety and how despite what you’ve done, he won’t change. There’s something lovely about it.
You don’t have much to share about your life the way he does, at least not in the same light. But you show him your favorite books, drawings you made over the years, and share the stories of movies you found interesting. He savors the moment of you simply confiding, enjoying the more he can know about you.
The storm passes later in the evening. So caught up in borrowing time, the rain has slowed down to a simple pitter patter. The clouds dispersed and the setting sun only came through to say goodbye to the day.
The sound of the truck that the farmhands use to take back to town is heard roaring to life, signalling you and Sunghoon that it’s safe and time to head out.
Sunghoon jumps out of bed but by the time he’s shoving himself into his still damp jeans and looking out the window, the truck is already speeding down the dirt, now mud riddled road.
“They just left without me,” he breathes out. “I’m used to them leaving me out, but t-this is.. How am I going to get home?” He looks back to you with sad eyes, not the light they had earlier. He’s not shocked by their actions, but he is disappointed. A hand runs through his hair in his stress.
“Should I kill them?” Your question is brazen, body and voice eerily still in your seriousness.
“W-what?!” he whispers in shock, freezing for a moment.
“I’m joking.” You sit up and watch Sunghoon resume getting dressed. “I think you should head back to the lodge for the night. There’s a washer and dryer for your clothes. And spare food for dinner too.”
Sunghoon nods slightly, “your jokes are weird, but okay.” He looks like he’s thinking of something, taking his bottom lip between his teeth in thought before speaking again. “Can you stay with me for the night at least?” he asks shyly.
“No,” comes out quicker than you intended. “...But I guess I can walk with you there.”
He nods again but now with his signature small dimpled smile. You almost forgot about being angry at the other farmhands for taking it away.
You have to make sure the coast is clear before leaving the house. You tiptoe down the halls and stairs, weary of where your mother is inside the house. To your luck, she’s in her usual state. She’s passed out on the couch with two empty bottles of wine on the floor. The television volume is low, playing a rerun of the reverend’s sermon; the devil himself of your childhood, preaching about how he lost his child to the otherside.
With a finger to your lips, you silently signal for Sunghoon to be quiet and to follow you out.
Once safely out of the front door, you take his hand in yours and start running for the lodge. The tall boy is behind you, so you don’t get to see the bright smile on his lips or in his eyes as you run through the light run towards the lodge.
Now standing in the front doorway of the farmer’s lodge, wet from the sky all over again and still hand in hand, Sunghoon bravely speaks up.
“I don’t like it when you disappear on me,” he breathes out shakily, honestly. “Nobody else sees me like you do,” he squeezes your hand tighter in his, feeling you begin to pull away. “Come with me into the city tomorrow. We can- I’m not sure yet, but I’m sure I want more time with you.”
His eye contact is unwavering, begging. Both of his strong hands hold onto yours. You glance from your hand then back to his pleading expression. He will always remain so sweet, no matter what you do to him.
“I felt less lonely before I met you,” you confess, eyes unblinking as you stare up at him for a long pause. “I’ll meet you here in the morning.”
In only seconds, he’s pulling you into a hug. His arms wrap around you so tightly as he holds you to his chest. You go stiff in his arms, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. What feels suffocating at first turns into a warmth you’ve become all too familiar with, and it was never anger. The indignation you always wear is just a hand me down from your parents; it doesn’t fit you right even though it’s comfortable.
With a shaky exhale, you wrap your arms around him too. The hug surrounds you like a blanket of unknown comfort. Your ear pressed to his chest listens to the sound of his racing heart. You can feel the pound throughout his entire body too. Every emotion held within is trying and fighting to be seen. It’s still so cold from the rain but he feels contrast, only warm. His lips press a kiss to the top of your head, making your body burn even more and your hold all the tighter.
True to your word, you meet Sunghoon at the farmer’s lodge the next morning. He seems happier than usual. Very giddy to be spending a weekend day with you without work in the way. No distractions or excuses to leave. Just the two of you and a new day with zero obligations.
Because you had a spare bike, you both are able to peddle towards town to the bus stop together. Having made these frequent trips alone, you’re familiar with the owner of the gas station at the stop. He’s a deaf older man, and it surprises Sunghoon that you know how to sign and ask him to hold onto the bikes until you’re back. You tell Sunghoon that you learned some basics from reading a book you bought a long time ago.
Stunned, Sunghoon realizes that you went out of your way to do so for one man who watches your bike while you endure solo trips. You, the odd girl who was mean and sinful, used your money and learned a language for one man who did a simple favor. He’s learning more to admire you for by the day, and it’s crazy to him how you don’t see your own charm.
Sunghoon pays your bus fares even though you insisted on being capable of doing so yourself. Sat in the middle of the bus that’s only barely half filled, he asks if there’s anything you’d like to do for the day while in the city. Nobody has ever asked you such an effortless thing, and you like it more than you imagined. Just uncomplicated curiosity of your wishes.
“The book store. The small yellow one on main street. Maybe see a movie if anything is worth seeing.” You shrug, spewing out the usual things you do. Looking around the taken bus seats, you notice some familiar faces.
“That sounds nice,” he smiles, “our first real date! I think there’s a cafe near that book store too. Do you like coffee?”
Your cheeks burn as you stare at him in bewilderment, “you think we’re going on a date?!”
“Of course we are,” he laughs like it’s obvious and wraps an arm around your shoulder, looking out of the window. All that the town can offer him other than you passes by. “I’m a fan of americanos. You seem like you’d take your coffee black.”
“I don’t even like coffee,” you mumble, turning your attention out of the window as well. “Tea is nice though.” You add in, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Hm. I can see that too,” he hums as he pulls you closer into his side.
So much can change in such little time. You’ve experienced this many times in one life. How one day can open a new door to a path otherwise not taken. Showing Sunghoon more of you has made him bloom into a larger ray of light. He seems more comfortable, and now you’ve become the awkward one.
The ride to the city doesn’t normally take this long, or at least you don’t think it does. Every second with him by your side makes the experience feel brand new. The theme of time being unreal is common with him, you’ve discovered. It’s when you’re in the bookstore and see a holiday sale that you realize it’s not even June anymore.
While Sunghoon looks for books for his upcoming college semester, you find yourself in genre sections you never really cared for before. The dark and racy ones were fun to bring home, sure. But innocent, cliche romance was always something cringey to you. Now if you change your perspective to that of research then it’s less daunting, right? Perhaps you’d make sense of all the things you’re discovering about yourself and him. Yeah, that’s convincing enough.
He teases you at the checkout counter when he sees what you picked out. Your face flushes in embarrassment and you can’t even bite back at him or defend your choices. So you smack him with the book on the way out while he laughs and makes jokes that aren’t very funny.
The two of you do manage to catch a movie. You honestly didn’t care to see one, but having to sit silently in a theater for at least an hour and half seemed like enough time for him to, hopefully, forget and drop the whole book situation. It’s a summer slasher film. A group of teens go camping and the plot is very ‘who done it’ style. Overall, it’s a fun choice. You have your turn to laugh and joke when Sunghoon gets jumpy or scared.
After the movie, you both end up at the cafe Sunghoon mentioned while on the bus. There was something painfully intimate about everything today. But especially sitting down to eat with him. Not even your mother could meet you at the table anymore.
“You seem softer today,” Sunghoon states, setting his half-drunk coffee down. “Almost nervous. Is it because we’re out together for our first date? Or just the people in general?”
You raise a brow at his brazen curiosity and observation. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me,” you play with your fork to move around the barely touched food in front of you. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both.”
“If you come to the city enough to know sign language for the man who watches your bike, do you like it better than the countryside?”
“Don’t know. I’m used to the quiet life, but leaving it behind and pretending it’s not there is nice too.”
“What keeps you there?”
“The scenery. The air. The lake. Being friends with the animals.” You look up from the plate to Sunghoon who is watching you like a lecture: attentive and learning. “I’m not very good with people, so I think it suits me alright.”
“You’re good with me though,” he argues softly.
“No, not really. I wish I was more like everyone else,” you inhale deeply as your eyes wander around the bustling cafe. There’s a choir of laughter, conversations, and social dynamics you would have to study to master. “If I were a good person, everything would be easier.”
“...but I like you as you are,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear, watching you shift in your seat. He doesn’t think you’re not a good person, and it hurts that you see yourself as such.
As Sunghoon speaks, there’s a chime that follows as the front door of the cafe is swung open. A disheveled man stumbles inside, heavy feet stomping the tile floor to attempt to stabilize his disorientation. The man burps obnoxiously loud, and many eyes find him with the grand entrance.
He scratches at his lengthy, unkept beard as he looks around. When his sunken eyes find you sitting at the table nearby his eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. His hand shakes with a pointed finger in your direction, “y-you! The girl from the reverend’s sermon!” He’s loud, capturing the attention of everyone now. His sloppy movements make way towards you and Sunghoon; you feel everything within you freeze, and your heart knocks at your chest fast and hard with anxiety.
He slams his hands on the table, causing your plates and drinks to rattle. He reeks badly of alcohol and his crazed eyes never leave yours. You swallow thickly, fight or flight mode still trying to understand the situation before you. Meanwhile Sunghoon, worried and confused, slowly begins to stand up and grab your bags.
But you, you’re frozen staring at the messy man who talks of your greatest hate. Your hands tremble on the table.
“I thought the reverend made you up for stories, but my God! You’re the real living thing just like the pictures; his only sin,” he laughs boisterously in your face and you try not to gag. “I saw him a little whiles earlier, ya know,” his voice goes quieter, it’s taunting even. You wish to remain calm but your eyes tremble and a frown takes your face. “I should go find him and tell him you’re here. He really-”
Sunghoon takes your hand, practically dragging you away from the table. You almost fall from your seat, like a baby deer just learning to walk, there’s little strength to your legs.
“It’s not too late! You can be on the right side of things!” his voice ricochets off the walls of the now quiet cafe. “If I can be saved by his preaching, so can you! Look at me!” His mad laughter follows you and Sunghoon outside.
Sunghoon watches you stand on uneasy feet, zoned out staring at the sidewalk. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together that the drunken man was talking about your father. Your father being a reverend who’s not in the picture gave him much to wonder about, but now isn’t the time. He just wanted to get you somewhere away from this memory.
He crouches down in front of you. You slowly blink back to reality, now looking down at his back. You don’t want to speak so you poke his shoulder in questioning.
“Hop on. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“What if I’m heavy?” you look at the bags he’s already holding, feeling that you too are a burdened weight he doesn’t need to hold.
“I’ve got good muscles, remember? Good for farm work,” he’s patient and calm with you while his eyes watch the man from outside the glass cafe windows. “Come on, baby.”
Without thinking, you end up on his back. He carries you on his back, strong arms holding your legs while yours are loosely around his neck. Your insides are a flared up hurricane but at least that allows your body to forget the empty ache you left at the cafe. With your chin hooked over his shoulder, you watch the many people and downtown stores that pass by.
Sunghoon doesn’t exactly know where he’s walking, but thinks it’s best to end the day here and return you to the bus stop. He’s never seen that look on your face before—the one you had when the man was loud in your face. He didn’t like it, and he’s sure you hated it. You looked intimidated, or afraid.
“Would you kill him for me?” you watch the side of his face, “the reverend, I mean.”
He stops in his tracks and turns his head to look back at you, “w-what? I can’t kill someone… and you should joke like that.” he panics, looking around to see if someone was listening to the wild conversation and request.
“Yeah, I know. I’m fucking with you,” you look away to hide your smirk, “and only half joking.”
“Did you believe him before?” He starts walking again, but this time at a slower pace knowing the bus stop isn’t too far now.
“Who? My dad or Our Father?” There’s a use of air quotes at the end of your question.
“Both?” his head tilts.
“Neither,” you confirm. There’s a pause for thought and Sunghoon waits for you to further explain. “My relationship with both is too similar. They’ve both known me my whole life, right? Seen all of my wrong doings and in return shown wrath through unnecessary punishments called forgiveness. In what good world is tolerance violent?”
“What do you mean? What did he do?”
“Sometimes, after my mother set the table for dinner, he would knock my plate to the floor. Tell me to eat off the ground like the animal I was or starve.” Sunghoon frowns at this, coming to a slow stop when he sees the bus shelter bench. “Sometimes I had days and nights locked in the barns, but he switched it up to the basement when I was too close with the animals.” You laugh a little, but he senses the pain behind it. “I watched him kill the animals, too, only to smother me in their blood. Beatings were rare, but I think only because he despised the thought of even touching me.”
Sunghoon slowly sets you down to the ground and breathes out your name safely, taking your hands into his. He looks at you with sorrow, like he was the one who endured it with you.
“God’s orders, am I right? My father, the church goers, speak of God like they’ve seen his face and heard his voice, but they haven’t. I would’ve by now too.”
If He was really in everything, all around, why did He always turn a blind eye? Why does He pretend to not know you? It only made it harder to believe in—something that would bring you here, torture you then watch you suffer for not living how it pleases. God wants to be believed in, but so do you. Only you would never beg for compassion.
Sunghoon squeezes your hands in his, “I don’t think you should stay there. You never deserved that… even if you’re volatile and strange… because you’re also kind and caring. It’s why I like you. It’s their fault for not seeing that,” he reassures. “I haven’t been through what you have, and I can’t understand. I-I mean I can try to, ya know… it’s not like I’d leave if I didn’t.” His words begin to stumble nervously, not confident in its sympathy reaching you where needed.
You laugh nervously, trying to tug your hands away from his grip that doesn’t let up. “Okay sure whatever, this is really embarrassing now…” You swallow hard and find difficulty in meeting his eyes.
That’s all that matters, what he said to you, but you didn’t have it in you to say it. He already knows it though, smiling small and holding your hands still. Without words or excessive displays he can still see it in your eyes, the subtle comfort of acceptance.
He could never blame you for your nature. He sees your anger as you just trying to be strong all while being sad. Whether you are his lover or executioner, he would accept you as you are every time with open arms, receiving hands. Even more readily, now.
Even more time has passed since knowing Sunghoon. Summer has never flown by so fast. The calendar doesn’t exist to you anymore. It’s only the days you see him and the days that you don’t. The season will be wrapping up in the next few weeks, but only for him. He has to return to his regular scheduled routine of pursuing education while you will stay here, on the farm. It’s rare for you to feel this emotion: fear. You are scared of losing him. And the concept is something you do your best to avoid thinking about because it makes your skin itch with anxiety. It crawls over you like something that needs to be cut out.
And then an idea hits you. Something far more deep-seated than everything else you’ve done with Sunghoon that would solidify that this summer is real and yours. Something that will always stay; a reminder that good things are possible despite how the world has made you.
It’s a damn near perfect day. The sun is so bright, and only peers down onto you both through the gaps of the trees. It’s just warm enough. Just quiet enough aside from the sound of Sunghoon’s gentle breathing and natural composition of the nature that surrounds. Rustling of leaves, chirps of birds, and scurrying of whatever life that wishes to not be seen.
You both sit criss cross at the wooden dock by the lake, simply enjoying the scenery and all it has to offer. His large knee is affixed to yours. If this was early June, you would have moved away. But now it’s a week into August and you wouldn’t have it anywhere else. Just like you always imagined, and secretly wanted, the view is nicer with someone else.
He didn’t bother asking why you never brought him here before, or why it is that you chose to now. He’s just happy that you decided to at all.
You slip a hand into your boot and pull out a pocket knife. You flick it open and do a brief inspection of the cleaned blade. The sun glints off the metal as you turn it.
“Sunghoon, do you trust me?”
His eyes flicker from your blank face to the blade. He nods slowly with a swallow, “of course.” There’s a subtle apprehension to him. You hand him the small blade and leave your palm facing up, open to him.
“Cut a diagonal line down my hand,” you point and draw a line down the middle of your palm.
“Huh, seriously?” he takes the blade confused and concerned with what you’re asking of him. “Why? I can’t hurt you.”
“Do it. Don’t think of it as hurting me, but still do it deep enough to leave a scar.”
He struggles to understand the situation, but you’re so serious and clearly waiting for him to do as you asked. He exhales deeply, taking your hand in his while the other holds the knife just above the bared skin. Hesitant and slow, the tip of the knife pressed down into your flesh. You wince a little, which makes him pause. You nod, encouraging him to continue and he does despite hating the act. He slices the palm of your hand open just as you wanted. You hate blood, but it’s not so bad when caused by him.
“Shit, it stings,” you swallow through the pain. The feel of open flesh burning and stinging. “Your turn,” you exhale while taking the knife back with your free, unharmed hand.
“My turn,” he agrees as if all logic has left him and readily displays his palm to you. Deep down, he feels guilty for hurting you, so to make it even he wants to feel the same.
Just as hesitant and careful, you create a matching wound in his hand. A deep enough, bleeding, lesion in his left hand to match your right one. He cringes at the sight and the pain before looking back to your face. Your expression is so soft yet attentive, almost awestruck.
“Even when you hurt me you’re gentle,” he remarks, watching you in amazement with a meek smile.
“I am not gentle. I have sullied you,” you remind him, your eyes attempt to glare but they’re too bright in his.
“In the softest way, why?” His voice is delicate and still like the lake that sits before you. You blink slowly at him because there are no words to be found. He continues, “I never thought of you as a bad person,” he pauses as you drop the red stained knife, unsure if he should continue at first but does regardless. “And, uhm, I’ve thought a lot about this summer. What I've learned from you. Purity is constructive—like something made to bring shame.” You don’t move, watching him. “I don’t have to be clean to be good…and your hands never made me dirty. Because they never were either.”
Like an excavator to your tall, strong built walls Sunghoon has knocked your shield down. The facade of your character is breaking down, crumbling into the broken pieces that made it. A single tear escapes your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s rare for you to cry and you’re disgusted with the reality as to why it’s now that you break. Simply falling apart from kind words.
You try to use everything in you to ignore the heat in your body, to show the anger you think you’re feeling inside. So your eyes remain sharp and strong, boring into his, as they still water. You swallow the dry lump in your throat and without a word, you take his hand into yours to join in a mix of blood.
At first, you had one goal; one similar to murder. The sparkle he had in his eyes, you wanted to eat—to make them empty—and see the world ugly and godless like you. Yet somehow, somewhere along the way, his eyes shone even brighter. You only wanted to take and take of the innocent boy, but in this moment you realize, maybe I just wanted to give him some of me.
You wipe the wet drop away from your face with haste, pretending as if it was never there. Whatever blood oath you’re making with Sunghoon allows you to feel something indescribable. You don’t know if it’s deserved, but you smile anyways. Because the indescribable feeling feels like it’s an unknown, unspoken promise.
He’s seen you smile before with insidious malice, but this time, for the first time, you are really smiling. It’s a raw expression of surfacing emotions, and he returns the emotion like the sun. He thought of you beautiful before but with your brightness finally peering through your clouds, he believes you to be heaven sent. A part of him always wanted to see you cry—usually it was him with tears in his eyes; which is funny, because he wasn’t much of a cryer himself. You just had that way of breaking him down. He knows now he does for you too. And he can tell that you’re probably the type of person who needs to cry the most.
His hand squeezes yours tighter, a grip so loving, as you bind in one. Neither of your eyes or smiles leave each other until the bleeding stops.
A week later, Sunghoon asks you on a date. The summer fair is in town. It’s something like a festival where all the locals from towns around the city come to visit and join in on festivities from carnival games, rides, food, and uncommon entertainments. You think of being mean, denying him the acceptance of the date, but you have always wanted to go. So you said yes without your words: took his scarred hand in yours and nodded.
The evening sky is a watercolor of warm tones as the sun begins to lay down for the night. The bright lights of the fair illuminate the large open field turned carnival. There’s a sea of people here tonight, and although it makes you nervous inside, having Sunghoon by your side makes the ordeal easier to handle.
The line for the ticket booth is lengthy but it passes by. You approach the booth, standing a little behind Sunghoon who takes out his wallet to buy your entrance wristband passes and tickets. You look around at the many people: families, friends, and couples, all immersed in their own experience as the music and sounds blend in the background of conversations.
“Oh wow! You’re really handsome,” the girl at the ticket booth gawks at Sunghoon. She straightens her posture and fixes her hair from her face, “one ticke-?”
Catching this, you step forward and snatch Sunghoon’s wallet from his hands, “he already knows that. Do your job or I’ll feed you to pigs.” You slap the cash amount for what you need down onto the table top with a straight face and mean eyes.
Her eyes go wide and she hushes an apology, quickly giving you both wristbands and tickets for the evening. She even threw in extra tickets as you stared her down.
Sunghoon watches you with a flushed face, even the tips of his ears burn red at your jealous threat. You both walk off into the fair, a sheepish smile on his face as he leads you through the crowd with an arm wrapped around your back and hand to your waist.
“Was that one of your jokes too?” he grins down at you.
“Nope,” you glance at him with a small smile. You weren’t sure what came over you in the moment, but it was something internally deep, and territorial. An innate reaction to someone trying to appeal to something that belongs to you. It felt ugly and you didn’t like it.
The idea that he could possibly be taken from you was a phenomenon you’ve thought of for a while now. Knowing he has an existing life outside you, outside of this summer, that he would return you made you sick. You’re far from perfect, or the right thing for him, and he could find a safer option if he ever pleased. Pushing the thoughts away is harder than you imagine, so you cling to his side even more.
You and Sunghoon use up your spare tickets for carnival games. You toss rings around bottles, shoot water guns into the mouth of a clown frame, and throw darts at balloons. The both of you aren’t very skilled at any of the games, but it's fun enough to enjoy the time without winning a prize to show for it.
Eventually, Sunghoon does find frustration within the ‘rigged’ set up of the games. He even pulls out his wallet for cash when the tickets are gone. You’re surprised at how competitive he is; his determined nature is something that stirs your insides around. You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled so much in your life.
After 3 rounds of throwing a ball to knock over a moving target, he does manage to win. Going 3 for 3 and not missing a single shot. The excitement you feel when he succeeds takes over and you’re proud, doing little jumps in place and clapping your hands together.
“You did it! You won!” you exclaim, hugging onto his side.
He can only smile down at your joyfulness. A fire burns in his heart and he hugs you back, kissing your forehead. “All for you. Which prize do you want?”
“It’s yours, you should pick it,” you blush, elbowing his side with a shy smile while your eyes keep looking up to the stuffed white lamb with a lace ribbon around its neck and a cushion gold bell adoring the throat.
Of course, that’s the prize he ends up choosing. It might not be Saint Michael the stuffed bear, but it’s something far happier, cleaner, and softer.
The stuffed animal never leaves your hold throughout the rest of the evening. It rides the many rides you and Sunghoon do. And sits at the picnic table with you both as you share fair snacks. Popcorn and cotton candy was never so sweet for either of you. Like contentment melting on your tongues.
Cliche as ever, Sunghoon wants to end the night there with a round on the ferris wheel. The line moves quickly and when it’s your turn to step into the carriage, he takes your hand and sits you down the seat next to him.
It moves slowly and rocks back and forth with shaky movements that have you gripping the side handles. With an arm around your shoulder, he holds you close to him. The array of flickering colorful lights and people below you feels almost magical.
Taking your eyes from the heightened difference between you and the ground, you look back to the boy beside you who is already looking at you. The reflection of rainbow luminescence glistens in his eyes. It’s even prettier than the view from the top of the little world you’re in. You give him a shy smile, finding it impossible to look away.
He says your name in a whisper, taking your chin between your fingers. “Thank you for choosing to let me in.”
Confused and wide eyed, you watch him lean into your face. You gasp when his lips meet yours before returning the notion. With eyes closed, you melt into his kiss. It’s sweet as all the things you’ve experienced today because of him.
It’s also as clumsy and messy as a kiss can be for two people who’ve never done so before. However, human nature and desire take over and ease the rest for you both. Lips move over another in a gentle waltz, careful and slow.
And as if the situation couldn’t get anymore cliche, fireworks light up the sky. At first you thought it was just your imagination and all the books you’ve read flooding your consciousness, but the booming sounds and cheers of the crowd are too loud to not be real.
You pull away from him first, and he’s already wearing a shit eating grin so wide that you can’t help but roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile back at him. Your face burns in both embarrassment and adrenaline from the kiss.
After that, you don’t leave the city like you should. The bus takes you both back downtown but neither you or Sunghoon feel it’s time for goodbye. So, for the first time, he takes you back to his apartment. You’ve never been to anybody else's home before, and it’s nerve wracking to say the least. The complex is large and somewhat modern, housing many of the second and third year private college students.
When you step inside, it’s quite plain but at least clean. You’re immediately greeted by a boy shorter than Sunghoon. He has a big mouth smile and shining dark eyes. His hair is shaggy but it suits him. He’s practically bouncing on his toes. You shift yourself behind Sunghoon and hold onto his shirt, hiding slightly from the excited puppy-like roommate.
“How did it go? Oh, and nice to finally meet you,” he rambles out quickly, “I’m Jake. The best friend and roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He shoots Sunghoon a wink before grinning back at you. He extends a hand for you to shake but you don’t reach out. Something about his eyes doesn’t sit right with you.
“She’s shy,” Sunghoon laughs a little as he guides you past Jake and towards his room. “It was fun though. I recommend going before it’s gone.”
“Ah, you got yourself a nice little angel, huh?” Jake leans over the kitchen island, watching you both. His smile falters. “I’ll have one of my own some day.” For some reason, you think of him as a secret pervert.
Sunghoon laughs his comment off and tells Jake goodnight before showing you to his room. His room is neat and as simple as a college boy’s room can be. A bed, desk, dresser, closet, and bathroom. One poster of a musician you’ve never listened to and a window with unopened blinds.
You sit yourself at the end of his bed and he sits down next to you. There’s some awkward silence as you look around, unsure of what you’re supposed to do. He feels similarly to your internal dilemma.
“I-I’ve never had-”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off. Of course he’s never had a girl over. And of course you’ve never been over to a boys house.
“Are you tired?” he asks, and you lie by nodding your head. So you both get ready for bed. He gives you a shirt to borrow for bed that change into in his bathroom while he changes into sweats and a t-shirt in his room.
In minutes you’re both laying in his bed under the covers and staring up at his ceiling in the dark room. Not a word is said as you both lay there wide awake and untouching. But you know he’s wanting to by the way his body is shifting and turning, inching closer with every minute movement.
And before you know it, although expected, his body is nestled closely to yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace. For the most part, he usually does keep his space. Knowing how you are when it comes to physical touch that feels too sudden or invading. But with barriers breaking down more over time, he thinks you’re learning to handle the comfort better.
“I thought you were tired?” he mumbles, head on your shoulder. His hands trace up and down your arms that are wrapped around yourself like a guard.
“I lied,” you whisper. Your eyes can’t look at him yet, so they remain aimless to the ceiling. Some moonlight slips through his cracked window blinds, giving you enough view of the spinning ceiling fan.
“I had fun today. Mostly because you did. I like seeing you happy,” he smiles after kissing your shoulder that’s exposed in the neckline of his shirt too big for you. “And… I liked when you kissed me back,” his voice is quiet and shy-like.
“Do you want to do it again?” Your eyes shift to him and you can barely see the warm flush to his cheeks. He’s cute.
Taken aback at first, he just blinks at you with a parted mouth. Then he nods his head slowly, licking over his lips.
You turn over onto your side to face him and his hands don’t leave your waist. Unsure of what to do with your own, you wrap them around his neck. Good thing they sit behind him and it’s dark in the room because it would kill you for him to notice the slight tremor in your fingers.
With a scarily racing heart and stiff, trembling body you surge forward to kiss him. His lips are quick to capture yours. Soft and pillow-like, they mold into yours in waves. What starts off as clumsy and unskilled turns into hunger. Something desperate and needy. His grip feels bruising to your hips but in a nice way. In a way you want it to hurt more.
His nails digging further into your flesh to keep you impossibly close make your lips gasp, or maybe it’s the lack of air, or just both. And instinctively his tongue is licking its way past your lips and into your mouth. He kisses you like he’s starved for it. His wet tongue drags over yours, and your teeth, then as far as it can inside of you. He whimpers, pressing his already hard cock to you as he licks and kisses you open.
Your stomach has never burned this way before, and you feel the hot sensation all over then down to your core that aches like it’s hungry too. You feel disgusted by yourself but can’t fight the hum you make as you devour him right back. You’re getting wetter every second he’s in your mouth.
This time, he pulls away first. Panting for air and staring at you with glazed over dark eyes. He licks over his wet lips again, savoring the taste of you on himself. He bites down onto it and a part of you wishes it was you he sunk his teeth in.
“Can I do what I did last time?” he breathes out, his hips involuntarily jerking up against you at the thought alone.
While trying to act like you’re not catching your breath too, you say quietly, “do whatever you want.”
He kisses you again but with more desperation. You try to do the same but you can feel your heart and your head preparing for battle. The way he’s feeling you up and grinding himself on you is in no way unwanted, and that’s part of the reason you’re struggling to maintain presence.
It’s so much happening so quickly, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine this happening eventually. Sex was inevitable. The way his body yearns to be one with yours makes you feel special almost. He’s already engraved into you but in his mind he has to be inside of you and it hurts so badly how you think the same.
But is the last thing that keeps him pure really yours to take? You’ve stripped so much away from him for all the wrong reasons before and now it feels strange. You are no good and that’s all he is.
The only thing keeping you here, in the moment, is him. His exploratory and gentle yet rough hands, his body grinding into you, his lips that can’t leave yours or your skin for even a second, and the weak wanting sounds that leave them.
“I need more, please. I want- I need to feel good with you. Please,” he’s whining into your ear. Then pressing kisses along your jaw and neck that are all so tender, slow, and deliberate. Large hands caress you like you’re breakable, as if not already just a body of fragmented pieces made whole and called a person.
Your still shaking hand reaches down between your two bodies and slips past his sweats. He had the nerve to go commando and you wish you could tease him, but you can’t. You’re lucky you’re even here right now and breathing his air. Your hand wraps around his aching length and gives him a few tugs to which he’s quick to moan. He kicks off his sweatpants while you bring him closer to you. The plush of your thighs trap him; he whimpers against the soft heat of your flesh.
Your hips grind up into him once, showing him what he should do too. He’s slow to start, rocking himself between your thighs. Slutty and hopeless sounds leave him in a string of his want. His leaking hard cock is so close to your core. Only the thin layer of your underwear keeps him from feeling your clear need for him too.
Wrapped in each other's arms, you bury your head to his shoulder. You can feel the pulse of his aching desire rubbing and grinding against you. It makes you shiver in sensitivity and cower further into his neck. You don’t bite down onto your lip, but his neck. There’s a sting to your eyes because you hate it—the wet warmth that pools out of you. Your sin sticks to your underwear and your skin like the red raining life of all the animals you made leave the earth; your haunting subconscious correlates with your growing pleasure.
You know you’re not religious yet every time Sunghoon touches you there’s a divinity to it and it makes your hands want to join in prayer to thank the universe for sending someone like him to you. Because his hands roam your body as if they have in every world; as if there is not one timeline where you have not been made for him. Like you were carved from his rib every time.
Your body smolders in that angry way it always did whenever Sunghoon got too close to you. Whenever his words were too kind, his touch too gentle, or god forbid when he just smiled at you. That fire is just the divine nature of your relationship, lighting up everywhere he touches and leaving flames in the wake. You thought it was your body rejecting his purity, but you were only denying the likeness. He made you feel good. And in the most ironic way possible. You just didn’t think you deserved it.
Yet an anguished moan leaves you, rumbling against his skin as you bite down harder. Regardless of it all, he is yours right now.
The feeling of your sinking teeth in him, the sounds you’re now making, and the damp heat between your legs he can’t stop chasing all makes his head spin. He bites down onto you just the same and it only makes you moan louder.
“Please,” he’s whining again through the bite. His voice a needy tremble while his hips stutter and thrust between your legs that only squeeze tighter together. The way the fat of your legs hug his raging cock through his desperate grinds makes him chase more and more for that feeling he just can’t seem to reach. The crying tip kisses and pushes up then past your leaking folds every time. It drives you both insane.
If your body is the fiery lake of creation's deepest pit, then he is the cleanest ocean of earth’s highest point. If anyone could extinguish you, and possibly make you feel whole, it was Sunghoon.
This is the most horrifying reality you’ve come face to face with. Not just intimacy, but a stronger driving emotion. You have to open yourself, rip open your chest and bare your beating heart in all its naked vulnerability. Let it scream out I like being with you. You have allowed this person into your world that nobody else has dared to step foot in. To see you in such ugly ways yet still extend their arms for you. It’s a terrifying level of closeness that you’ve never once experienced and you don’t know what to do with. You’re beyond perplexed by what he’s done to you, in both terror and awe.
You pull back from Sunghoon and he pauses everything for a moment to look at you, noticing your wet eyes. Before he can ask what’s wrong you reach down and slip off your underwear. You shift your body and maneuver him as best you can until he’s on top of you. Rattled with concealed embarrassment you remove his shirt and toss it somewhere to the floor, and he does the same.
You take a deep breath and reach back down to his cock, lining it up with your pussy. You blink and swallow away all the things trying to stop you from allowing yourself him. Pliant beneath him, you grab his shoulders and pull him down to you for a quick kiss. Foreheads now pressed together with lips ghosting over the others, you tell him, “I hate you.”
Sunghoon only smiles down at you before kissing you once more. With his arms caged around you, he slowly pushes himself forward. The fat tip of his cock fails to go through you, only sliding up and past the wet folds. He whines feeling the warm slick coat the head; his entire body shudders. He nearly cums from that alone.
He looks at you confused, and nod once while trying to shift your hips around for a better angle. It’s not like you to be so quiet during things like this. It only tells him that for once, you’re nervous about new things the way he was.
So he tries again, this time a little rougher. He thrusts his hips forward, the tip pushing past the tight walls but still barely in. You whimper at the intrusion and the feeling of you being stretched open. Your hands squeeze hold onto his biceps for purchase.
The tight sensation of your pussy squeezing his tip feels otherworldly to him. He can’t help but need to sink deeper into you. His cock pushes in further at an agonizing pace until he’s as deep as he can possibly go. His arms shake while he tries to maintain his strength and keep himself from collapsing onto you completely. The wet walls that surround him flutter and try to pull him further inside, making him feel lightheaded. His moans are so needy it’s almost like he’s crying from the feeling.
“Oh, f-fuck!” you whimper. Having Sunghoon completely inside of you feels so full. You’re stuffed with him and it hurts so good. “You gotta move, Hoon. Feels like you’re splitting me open.”
“You're so tight, mm.” His hips stutter from your words alone and he whimpers again. He pulls himself out halfway while your gummy walls kiss around him in an attempt to suck him back to be filled again. He begins to rock himself in and out of you. It’s inexperienced and awkward, but he gets the hang of it quickly. Doing what feels best for him and what seems to be the best for you too.
“I hate you. I fucking hate you,” you whisper harshly, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. It all burns while feeling like heaven. Never have you been so full, held so gently, or seen than this summer. You bite back the breaking moans and whimpers. You claw at his skin. You even begin to cry when your hips can’t stop chasing his thrusts.
“I love you too,” he whispers back. A kiss is pressed to your forehead as his cock pistons you. Sunghoon is smart enough to know you’re a liar. Your mean words that used to hurt him, he now understands. You’re not really a bad person. And you don’t hate him. You were just really damaged and if he’s damned for trying to heal that then he’s fine with that too.
“I mean it,” your body shudders, feeling his tip pound so far and deep in places inside you that you didn’t know reachable. His fat cock drags out and forces through your tight hole, making you cream all over him more and more. The sounds that leave your body, the sounds your bodies are making, it’s so obscene. Fighting off the disgust and focusing on how he makes you feel is war. It’s so hard for you to win.
“No you don’t,” he shifts himself to sit on his knees, taking your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He leans forward and kisses both of your cheeks before fucking himself into you again, only harder and faster than before.
“Ngh,” you moan again through broken sobs, blinking away the tears as you stare up at him. “I’m t-trying to.”
“I know, baby.” he mumbles before capturing your wobbling lips into a searing kiss. “It’s okay, haah, don’t cry. You’re good. You’re so good for me,” he says against your wet lips. You can only sniffle and try to turn your head away from him in your embarrassment. “No, no.” he takes your chin with his thumb and finger, forcing you to look back at him. His thrusts never letting up during his care. “Look at me. You’re so good to me.” He reminds you over and over. “We’re so good together. I’m yours. you’re mine.”
“Say it again,” you sniffle through little sounds of sin. Your hand finds a place on his cheek, and your thumb rubs over his lips that wear a smile.
“You’re so good, good for me. We are so good together. I am yours. And you are mine,” he says softly. His eyes are so filled with love, and if you could see your reflection in his then you would know yours are too. “Say you’re good, baby, it’s okay.”
“I’m good,” you sob through your whimpers, “I’m yours.”
To Sunghoon, the idea of sex was always sacred. Something that’s only done and shared between lovers bound by marriage of the church. But now, he thinks differently. He knows that there is no shame in him loving you now or years later. And he was more than happy to make love to you all night until you believed it too.
Perhaps there was a thing such as divine intervention and if God’s timing was alway right, he knew how to be evil with it too. Because the next day, when Sunghoon takes you home, he’s met with your maker.
Your mother, aware of the frequent trips you’ve been making and how close you’ve grown to the summer farmhand boy, is quick to make a call to your father the night you don’t return home. It wasn’t necessarily because she cared for your well being. You’re more than capable of handling yourself. But it was an excuse to try and get him to come back. Only it doesn’t go how she wanted.
When you see the reverend’s car parked in front of your house, your heart drops. Sunghoon picks up on your tension, He sees how you go blank at the sight and slowly turn back into the empty girl he met months ago. He tries to hold your hand but your fingers can’t move, can’t return the embrace.
When the reverend walks out of the house with his infamous weapon of sacrificial forgiveness, you know what to do. Your body moves on its own, leaving Sunghoon to reach out for you that walks towards the woods. He goes to follow you and the desolate man that stalks behind, but your mother stops him. She’s hysterical as she drags him towards your house saying, “it’s going to be okay.” But she’s crying.
Once out of their sight, the reverend takes you by the hair. He yanks your head around, pulling you towards that cursed tree. He’s uncharacteristically rough and your scalp screams for a release but you don’t show it. You don’t even look at the man. Not even when he’s tossing your body to the ground.
“So you’re whoring around with my employees now, huh? Was ruining this farm not enough for you?” His words mean nothing to you. You dust off the dirt and go to stand again, but he kicks you back down. You tsk under your breath as he speaks again, “I’ve seen all the things you’ve done. Seen you leave my barns with red hands and smile. Cut heads off chickens like an anatomy project. Is he next? That church boy?”
Now you look up to glare at him. Seeing the reverend was aggravating enough, but to say something about Sunghoon was infuriating to you. “I am not a killer. You are! And those animals were already dead.” You spit at his black leather church shoes.
“Oh, you disgusting little devient,” he laughs lowly, untying the rope from the tree. “Your cruelty shouldn’t bring you joy. Sick and twisted, I should’ve dealt with you sooner regardless of what your drunk bitch mother protested. I can save the boy when you’re gone.”
“What?” you shuffle backwards from him, angry and confused as he stalks closer to you until you’re backed against the tree. “All those things I did was because of you. Your righteousness made me rotten!” Your hands shake, gripping at the dirt ground for anything to make the fear stop. You glance up to the empty tree branch then the rope in his hands. Where is the lamb? You think briefly before it hits you. “You’re crazy,” you whisper, “I will not be your martyr… not now what I’m finally-”
“Condemn me to Hell for all I care,” he crouches down in front of you, “This is the last time I’ll be a killer.” He throws the rope to your lap and tells you to tether yourself.
“Why do you hate me?” The words scratch at your throat. When you were younger, you did want the reverend to hate you. It was when he noticed you most, and it’s all you really knew. But now you’re older, and his disdain never made sense.
You can’t bring yourself to move even if you wanted to. Was this His plan? To allow you one good thing in life before ending it? Was ruining Sunghoon your final sin?
The rope shakes with your fingers as you stare down at it. The twine of the rope burns over the palm of your hand where Sunghoon carved his promise. Your throat feels dry, tight and suffocating; choking on everything you’ve ever done. And your eyes still puffy from the night before well with tears all over again.
“I just do,” he thinks of slicing your neck open right there. So fuck tying you down, you were always secretly another lamb anyways. He raises his knife and the metal sits cold under your chin as he lifts your head up to look back at him.
“Okay…” you swallow.
Your eyes squeeze shut and so does your mouth, as you raise your head to the sky with an exposed throat. Why isn’t this easy? Unlike the animals, you do know what’s coming. And it’s scary. Scary not because of death, but because you aren’t ready. You haven’t told Sunghoon goodbye or that you love him back. And the thought of him finding something in this world to hate, is such an ugly feeling to die with.
And then there’s a loud noise. A booming bang, followed by unsteady feet falling back and the ground rumbling with a thud.
You open your eyes and your father is on his back clutching his abdomen. He coughs and gasps before raising his hand. It’s dripping in deep red. And you can’t help but smile with tears in your eyes as you exhale a jagged breath.
You turn your head and Sunghoon stands there with the shotgun in hand, open mouthed and wide eyed.
“Sunghoon!” you scramble to your feet and run over to him, taking the gun from his hands as he’s frozen in shock.
“H-he was going to- he was about to hurt you. I had to-!” he stutters, his eyes already crying and hands shaking, still feeling the weight and recoil of the gun.
“It’s okay,” you coo softly. “Just- go back to the house and I’ll be right there, okay?” You rush out. Still in shock and dazed, he blindly trusts you and does as you say.
When he’s no longer close by, you walk over to the reverend with a blank face. You stare down at him as he tries to crawl away, dirty and bleeding. The smile you make doesn’t reach your eyes.
You point the gun back down at him, and place your foot over the shot wound Sunghoon created. The man gasps and tries to swat at your leg but you only press the gun further into his face, making him surrender.
“Divine intervention, huh? Say it with me now. I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your voice is quiet, calm, and mocking of his tone. With the barrel to his forehead, you watch him writhe in pain and cough up a little blood.
“Go to Hell,” he spits his words like venom.
“If you say it, I’ll let you live. But if you show your face to me or Sunghoon again, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes.” Your foot presses down harder. You can feel that angry little girl inside of you jumping with joy.. Knowing his God demands to be bled for, and making him know the sacrificial suffering, well it feels good to say the least. “Say it. With me. Now.” Each word pronounced with the growing applied pressure to his shot wound. And then he begs for forgiveness. He’s never seen you smile the way you did when he was below you with those words. Empty eyes were never so alive for him either. He cries and chants ‘I know no punishment, only mercy’ over and over. It was like the most beautiful hymn.
There wasn’t much to be said about that day. Sunghoon and you just pretend you shared a nightmare. Neither of you talked about it. It was just another thing that tied you together.
Sitting there in the peak of summer’s heat. A day before Sunghoon returns to college classes. Birds chirp. The leaves of the tall trees thistle in the light breezes that pass by. Sunghoon sits criss crossed and while you have your feet hanging off the edge of the dock, kicking in the water.
“I’m sorry,” you break the silence. Shocked, he looks over to you. He never would have expected you to apologize for anything. “I was selfish when I approached you. I wanted to take all that goodness out of you and keep it for myself. I thought I wanted to hurt you, but after sharing all this time with you, I realized I was wrong. It’s weird to say it out loud,” you laugh small, awkward, “but I really am sorry. I love you more than even I know.” You stare down to your feet in the water that has gone still. A tear falls from your eye, and down to your cheek.
“I know. I love you too,” he wraps an arm around your waist. “But now the same sins bind us.” You hiccup silently and turn to look up at him. “Harvest all of my purity, farmer’s daughter.”
For the first time, you really laugh. It’s bright and loud like the big smile he’s seeing for the first time on his favorite face. It’s morning sunlight that whispers through trees to kiss the forest floor. Birds that sing songs of hope to awake life into a new day. Nostalgic, expansive days of childhood where the concept of time doesn’t exist. To him, you look like the epitome of summer; he doesn’t want this season to end.
You were never the lamb. Or the wolf. Not an animal at all. Nothing like the ones you grew up with. You were just a girl, scared and alone. But not anymore. Because it’s your last day on this farm, and tomorrow is the first with only Sunghoon.
“Your humor is poetry.” you continue to laugh until tears prick your eyes all over again. You love it.
“It wasn’t supposed to be funny.” he looks away shyly, blushing. It only makes your giggle more, but you stop to press a kiss to his cheek. He blushes harder.
“I’ll keep doing it, harvesting all of your purity, for as long as you’re good.” you say with a smile.
“Do you promise? I am always good, especially with you, so it could be a long while.” He bumps your shoulder playfully with a laugh.
You take his scarred hand in yours and you laugh like he did, pure and true, “I do.”
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