isa

https://lisie-luvs-u.carrd.co/

[lisie-loves-u]

𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕖

hi there! i'm lisie (or isa, whichever you prefer)!

i'm 20 years old, and usa based

i'm currently in uni studying social work! ^_^

my other socials can be found in my carrd! along with some basic info abt me

dni **important**

anyway on to the fun stuff:

masterlist

lisie's coming soon !!!

anons: open

perm taglist: @binneulton,

requests: open!!!

what i write: drabbles, hard thoughts, smut, fluff, angst

groups i write for: stray kids, p1harmony, enhypen, ampers&one, 1verse

stan list

schedule: sporadic updates on everything bc i am Employed and Educated and Human 😝

i welcome any sort of ask/ request whether its a question for me, or for my thoughts on something, a drabble, or just a life update from any of u!

request rules

boundaries

if i make a mistake

AI Policy

i reserve the right to turn down any request for any reason, not answer any request for any reason, or discontinue any wip.

okay that was a lot! if you read all the way down drink water and take 3 deep breaths (its the rule!)

okay have a good day, i love you!

dividers used in this post: @uzmacchiato

do not reuse without crediting artist.

[wonubug]

WHAT YOU NEED ⭑

PAIRING: Boyfriend!Jiung 𝓍 Retail Manager!Reader

SUMMARY: After a long day at work, your boyfriend decides to take matters into his own hands while you vent!

WC: 1.7k words

DISCLAIMERS: smut [ minors / ageless blogs dni! ] fingering, oral (f receiving! :P) , jiung just a loser who loves his gf idk. ur talking like the entire time and yeah. this was a random thought ok bye guys enjoy. also side note, im very jealous of all my retail worker friends that actually get to dress cute for work lowkey, cuz at my store it’s. Yeah ok. anyways bye.

You push open the front door of your apartment with a heavy sigh, the exhaustion of your day still clinging to your shoulders like weighted armor permanently bound to your body.

Your feet throb with every step, the oxford shoes you chose out of style and not comfort having rubbed blisters into your heels hours ago. The fluorescent lights from the store still seem to burn behind your eyelids, your jaw ached from forcing smiles at customers all day, and you can still feel the phantom weight of that promotion settling heavier on your chest with each passing shift.

The cute skirt you'd picked from the store racks and hid for yourself to buy after your shift weeks ago felt way too tight right now, and the fabric brushed uncomfortably against your thighs while you kicked off your shoes to collapse onto the couch without bothering to change.

The soft cushions cradle you, but your mind is still fogged with the irritatingly long day of running around the sales floor as customers chose to behave like it was their first day on the fucking planet, the registers glitching during peak rush, and all while your one coworker who somehow made everything worse just stood around doing what they do best…. Nothing!

Your boyfriend appears in the doorway to the living room, his eyes softening the moment he sees you sprawled out in your skirt. He crosses the room without a word, dropping to the spot beside you like muscle memory.

His hand finds your thigh, warm palm gliding up your skin in slow, soothing strokes. You start talking before he even asks, the words tumbling out in a frustrated rush.

"Today was actual hell." You mutter, leaning back against the cushions as you shut your eyes. "Ji, the minute we opened this morning, a woman came in demanding we reorder an entire line that's been discontinued for months, and when I told her we couldn't, she started yelling in my face.” You let out a groan.

“But it only gets worse because in the middle of the day our system crashed right when one of my cashiers was ringing up a huge transaction, and we had a line of twenty people staring daggers at me while I tried to reboot everything. And don't even get me started on—"

Your sentence cuts off with a sharp inhale as Jiung's hands slide higher, fingers hooking under the hem of your skirt and easing it up your thighs. He doesn't rush, but instead keeps a steady, comforting touch, thumbs rubbing small circles into your skin. You open your eyes and glance at him, brows furrowing slightly, but he meets your eyes with a calm, reassuring look.

“Go ahead," He murmurs, voice low and steady. "I'm listening."

You swallow, trying to pick up where you left off. "And then one of my other employees on the clock—hmmp, she deadass just stood there scrolling on her phone. Then I had to stay back to fix the inventory count because closing manager 'forgot' to do it last night, and by the time I was done, our district manager called and—

Jiung shifts closer, his shoulders nudging your side. His fingers trace the edge of your panties now, slipping beneath the fabric with deliberate slowness.

"Jiung—"

"Your district manager called.. And then what..?," He hummed, waiting for you to continue.

You swallow the lump in your throat, letting out a deep breath and shaking it off. “Y—yeah.” Your soft whimper betrayed you as his thumb finds your bud, pressing gently. "She wanted to know why our numbers were down this quarter.. hngh, then another customer tried to haggle us down on a clearance item idontknow—" Your words tumble faster now, frustration and arousal tangling together as his fingers dip lower, teasing your entrance.

"I stood there for ten minutes explaining our return policy while she got louder and louder, and everyone in the store was watching, and I—" You gasp as he applies more pressure, your hips shifting forward instinctively. "I-I just wanted to—Fuck, that feels good.”

He smiles softly. "Don't mind me, just get all your anger out, pretty." His words trickle out of his voice like honey before he shifts forward and gets on the floor between your legs.

You feel the heat of his breath against your inner thigh, and your words falter again as he tugs your thin material aside.

"Um…" You swallowed. "I.. I don't know." You breathe out, choosing your next words selectively. "Ever since I accepted the promotion as sales floor manager, I've been fighting for my lif—" Your breath hitches, voice climbing higher as his mouth makes contact.

His tongue drags a slow, wet stripe up your slit, and a soft moan escapes you before you can stop it.

"What are you doing?" You breathe, half-laughing, half-dazed, your hands gripping the couch cushions.

Jiung pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening. "Listening to you telling me about your day?”

He dives back in without waiting for a response, mouth sealing over your bud with a gentle suck that makes your hips twitch. His tongue works in lazy circles, lapping at your folds with wet, obscene sounds that fill the quiet room.

“Are you gonna tell me or no?” He pulls away, eyebrow raised as if he was being completely normal. Well, he was.. in a sense.

You let out a breathily before you try to keep talking, voice shaky as you force the words out. "Then I… I stepped in to deal with a return that wasn't even from our store, and the guy got so pissed he threw the bag at me. Then a new hire called in sick, so we were short-staf—"

Your voice breaks into another whimper while Jiung's tongue pushes inside you, fucking you with slow, deliberate thrusts. He hums against your core, the vibration sending sparks up your spine, and your thighs tremble around his head. When your words trail off into heavy breathing, he stops immediately, pulling back with a soft kiss to your inner thigh.

"I don't want you to stop talking." He says, voice muffled against your skin. "Go on."

You groan, half in frustration, and in need, but you push through, words spilling out between gasps. "The fitting rooms were a disaster, then someone left an old drink hidden behind a display shelf, and it was so disgusting. Customers complained about the smell all afternoon and my goodness my feet hurt so bad from standing all da—“

Jiung's mouth continued with renewed focus, sucking your pretty cunt between his lips while two fingers slid slowly into your dripping mess. He curls them just right, stroking that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

Your head falls back against the couch, a string of curses mixing with the details of your day as you struggle to keep going. "Lord, you don’t even wanna know about the fucking bathroom—"

He doesn't let up this time, tongue flicking rapidly over your swollen clit while his fingers pump in and out, slick and steady. Your legs shake, skirt bunched up around your waist, and you can feel the orgasm building low in your belly, heat coiling tighter with every wet lick as you gripped onto the cushions as hard as you could.

Jiung's free hand grips your thigh, holding you open as he devours you, saliva and your arousal mixing on his chin.

You're babbling now, barely coherent. "And honestly I’m …mmpph-shit—! I’m just hating just to hate but the music in the store has been so ass, it was giving me a headache, and I—fuck, Ji, I'm so close—"

He doesn't stop, nor does he even slow down. His tongue worked you through it as you came with a broken moan, your pussy clenching around his fingers. He keeps licking softly, drawing it out until your hips stop twitching and your breathing evens out.

Only then does he pull back, pressing a final kiss to your clit before tugging your panties back into place and smoothing your skirt down.

You look down at him, flushed and sated, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. He rests his chin on your thigh, eyes warm and satisfied as he watches you come back to yourself. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, and let out a soft, contented sigh.

“Honestly," You murmur, voice still a little breathless and anything else the least of your worries now, "Maybe today wasn’t that bad."

He grins, pressing one more kiss to your inner thigh before settling back on his heels. "That's what I'm here for."

💌 mika’s message! yooooo.. was she a sloppy rushed mess? Maybe……. Heh. idk i just wanted to post smth. can u hear me or see me Lmk. leave a comment , smash the like button , and don’t forget to subscribe.

gorgeous baddies get tagged: @seobmoji @chccnne @wdcsvt @aesprn @wonwounds @ericlvr @xionvlog @kamxstar @archiveofandy @alienslostinworld @hardbeingcasual @theosflower @applewormz @kyoluvrs @seomisaho @lilmiyavmiyav @dreamerliya @kateseobie @raraseobie @jiumeow @kyoteas , hiiii did u miss me

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P1ECEBUGS!!!! 🧩💖🪲

[lisie-loves-u]

scrumdiddliumptious everybody enjoy right tf now.

[conleches]

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

body language masterlist

a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

550 words to say instead of fuckin said

638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

some more body language help 

[bellero]

REBLOG TO SAVE A WRITER

[pluvial-lake]

Reader who has a real job and actual bills. Reader who prioritizes her own peace over his feelings. Reader who has hobbies that don’t revolve around a man. Reader who actually has a life outside of him. Reader who says “no” and means it. Reader who isn't easily impressed. Reader who’s petty. Reader who has trust issues. Reader who chooses her girls every single time. Reader who has a body count and isn't ashamed of it. Reader who is exhausted by male fragility. Reader who holds grudges. Reader who’s a mess. Reader who’s mentally ill. Reader who makes mistakes. Reader who’s manipulative. Reader who’s selfish. Reader who’s morally gray. Reader who’s awful. Reader who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck.

[lisie-loves-u]

thetak x reader fic coming soon.....

[lunenet]

yuma ✶  𝑓. reader  ───  ᛫‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎warnings. rough sex , unprotected sex , pnv , dirty talk , multiple positions , marathon sex , creampie , multiple positions , multiple orgasms , overstimulation , degradation ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎𓋰‎‎  ‎‎word count. 1076 ┊•⠀‎‎  masterlist  ‎‎ ‎‎

( custom order  🧾 ' ) i got this as a request and it immediately made me think of jas ,, so this is kinda dedicated to the birthday girl hehe ! thank u nonie for idea

you weren’t close.

that was the first thing anyone in the group would say if asked. you and yuma existed in the same orbit—harua’s orbit, mostly—because harua collected people the way other people collected stamps. you’d known each other for almost two years through group dinners, late-night convenience store runs, and the occasional karaoke disaster. you knew he took his coffee black and disgusting. he knew you always stole the last piece of karaage. that was the extent of it.

until the complaining started.

it began as background noise.

one night at the izakaya near campus, three beers in, you’d muttered into your glass about how you were going to lose your mind if you didn’t get laid soon. high sex drive, no patience for apps, zero interest in catching feelings with strangers. yuma, two seats down, had snorted like he related a little too hard.

harua had just stared at both of you.

the next week it happened again. different izakaya, same complaint. you’d been half-joking about how your vibrator was starting to feel like a roommate. yuma had groaned into his hands and said something about his right hand developing carpal tunnel.

harua’s eye had twitched.

by the third time—sunday afternoon, everyone’s living room floor covered in empty chip bags and half-watched anime—harua finally snapped.

“i swear to god,” he said, pointing a chopstick at both of you like a weapon, “if i have to listen to either of you whine about being horny one more time, i’m going to lock you in a room together and throw away the key.”

yuma laughed. you laughed.

harua did not.

two days later harua texted the group chat:

harua

y/nnie~~ come study with me at me n yuma’s pleaseeee. 7pm >.<

you couldn’t deny harua so you showed up expecting the usual chaos. instead the apartment was quiet. only yuma’s shoes by the door. only yuma on the couch, scrolling his phone, looking just as confused as you felt.

harua appeared from the kitchen with two bottles of water and the most unrepentant smile you’d ever seen.

“i have a date,” he announced. “don’t wait up. keys are on the counter. try not to break anything. or each other. actually—break each other. i don’t care. just stop complaining.”

and then he left.

the silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

yuma was the one who broke it. he leaned back against the couch, arms spread, looking at you with that lazy half-smile that always made him look like he knew something you didn’t.

“so,” he said. “you as desperate as you’ve been pretending to be?”

you should’ve denied it. should’ve laughed it off, grabbed your bag, left.

instead you sat down on the other end of the couch and said, quiet and honest, “worse.”

his eyes darkened immediately.

“same.”

that was all it took.

the first time wasn’t gentle.

it wasn’t supposed to be.

you were both wound too tight, too hungry, too tired of pretending your bodies weren’t problems. clothes came off in a messy, impatient scramble—his shirt somewhere near the tv, your bra hooked on the arm of the couch. he kissed like he was starving, all tongue and teeth and low sounds in the back of his throat that made your stomach clench. when he got his mouth on your neck he bit, not hard enough to mark but hard enough to make you gasp, and the sound he made when you dragged your nails down his back was filthy.

“fuck—yeah, just like that,” he muttered against your skin. “been thinking about this longer than i should admit.”

you didn’t ask how long. you just pulled him closer.

he ate you out like it was the only thing keeping him alive—messy, greedy, two fingers curling inside you while his tongue worked your clit in tight circles. you came the first time with your thighs shaking around his head and his name breaking on a moan. he didn’t stop. just kept going until you were oversensitive and pushing at his shoulders, and even then he only pulled back far enough to grin up at you, mouth shiny, eyes half-lidded and dark.

“still good?”

you nodded, breathless. “more.”

he fucked you on the couch first—slow at the start only because he was thick and you needed a second to adjust, then hard and deep once you wrapped your legs around him and told him to move. the angle was perfect. every thrust dragged against that spot that made your vision white out. he talked the whole time, low and filthy, telling you how tight you were, how wet, how good you felt taking him. when he came it was with a punched-out groan against your neck, hips stuttering, filling you in hot pulses that made your toes curl.

he stayed inside you after, breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours.

“fuuckk—please tell me you’re on birth control…” he panted, voice rough.

“isn’t that something you should ask before cumming in a girl…?”

“please just answer the question, babe.” he whined, burying his face in your now sweaty neck.

“yes, i am…now keep going, please?”

Yuma’s laugh was low and wrecked against your neck.

“fuck. you’re perfect.”

he didn’t pull out. just rolled his hips in a slow, deep grind that made both of you hiss, his cum already starting to slip out around his cock with every movement. the wet sound of it was filthy. he clearly liked it—his hands tightened on your thighs and he kept going, lazy and relentless, fucking his own mess deeper into you until you were squirming.

“look at that,” he muttered, glancing down between your bodies. “already leaking. goddamn.”

he finally pulled out only long enough to flip you onto your stomach, yank your hips up, and sink back in with one smooth thrust. the new angle punched a broken moan out of you. yuma groaned like he’d been punched too.

“there it is. take it. fuck—you’re still so tight.”

he set a brutal pace after that. one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise, using your body exactly how he wanted. every thrust forced more of his cum out of you, dripping down your thighs onto harua’s couch. neither of you cared. you came again with your face pressed into the cushion, sobbing his name, and he just kept going through it—overstimulating you until your legs shook and you tried to crawl forward just to get a second of relief.

he dragged you right back by the hips.“nuh-uh. you said keep going.” his voice was pure filth. “so you’re gonna take it until i’m done. yeah?”

“yes—fuck, yes—”

“good girl.”

he came a second time with his chest plastered to your back, teeth sunk into your shoulder, filling you all over again. the noise he made was almost pained. you felt every pulse.

even then he didn’t stop completely. just slowed into deep, lazy rolls of his hips while both of you caught your breath, his cock still half-hard inside you, keeping everything in.

“bedroom,” he rasped eventually. “before we destroy harua’s couch any more than we already have.”

you barely made it.

you barely made it.

yuma half-carried, half-dragged you down the short hallway, both of you still dripping and sticky and laughing under your breath like idiots. the second the bedroom door shut behind you he had you against it, mouth crashing into yours, hands everywhere at once. you could feel how hard he still was against your stomach even after two rounds. greedy. relentless. exactly like you.

“bed,” you managed between kisses. “now.”

he walked you backward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you both went down in a tangle of limbs. yuma didn’t waste time. he shoved your thighs apart, looked down at the absolute mess he’d already made of you—his cum still leaking out of you, thighs shiny with it—and made a low, punched-out sound like the sight physically hurt him.

“jesus christ.” he dragged two fingers through the mess and pushed them back inside you, slow and deep. “look at you. stuffed full and still dripping. fucking nasty.”

you clenched around his fingers on purpose. his eyes flicked up to yours, dark and hungry.

“do that again.”

you did.

he fingered you open like that for a while—lazy, filthy, scissoring and curling until you were rocking down onto his hand and whining. every time you got close he slowed down, watching your face with that half-lidded stare that made your stomach flip. only when you were actually trembling did he pull his fingers free, lick them clean without breaking eye contact, and finally line himself back up.

he sank in with one long, smooth thrust and both of you groaned like you’d been holding your breath.

“fuck—still so wet for me,” he muttered against your mouth. “still taking me so deep. you were made for this, huh? made to get fucked stupid and filled up.”

“only by you,” you breathed, and the way his hips stuttered told you that landed exactly how you wanted it to.

he set a deep, rolling pace after that. not the brutal pounding from the couch—something heavier, more thorough. every thrust dragged against that perfect spot inside you until your eyes were rolling back and your nails were leaving red lines down his back. yuma talked the entire time, voice wrecked and low, telling you how good you felt, how pretty you looked with your legs spread for him, how he could feel his own cum squelching out around his cock every time he bottomed out.

you came with a broken sob, clenching so hard around him that he cursed and had to still for a second. he didn’t give you time to recover. just kept going through it, fucking you through the overstimulation until you were crying again and trying to squirm away and he just pinned your wrists above your head and growled,

“take it. you asked for this. so fucking take it.”

you did.

he flipped you onto your side next, hiked one of your legs up, and slid back in from behind. the new angle made you choke on a moan. yuma’s mouth found the side of your neck, biting and sucking marks while his hips snapped forward in short, mean thrusts. one of his hands slipped down between your legs to rub tight circles over your clit and you shattered for a third time with his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer.

only then did he let himself go—burying himself as deep as he could and coming with a long, low groan that vibrated against your skin. you felt every thick pulse. felt him filling you all over again until it was leaking out around him even while he was still inside.

he stayed there for a long time after, breathing hard against the back of your neck, one arm locked tight around your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

eventually he pulled out with a wet sound that made both of you shiver. you felt the immediate rush of cum following, sliding down your thighs. yuma watched it happen with dark, satisfied eyes, then reached down and pushed two fingers back into you just to keep it in a little longer.

“messy girl,” he murmured, almost fond. “look what you did to my sheets already.”

you laughed, breathless and wrecked. “your fault.”

“yeah.” he pressed a slow kiss to your shoulder. “worth it.”

“think you can go for another?” he murmured against your shoulder, already half-hard again inside the mess he’d made of you.

you didn’t even answer with words—just arched your back and pushed your ass back against him in a playful wiggle.

yuma’s laugh was low and dark.

“greedy fucking girl.”

he pulled out just long enough to deliver a sharp smack to the side of your ass. the sound cracked through the quiet room and you jolted with a soft gasp, heat blooming under his palm. he rubbed the sting in with his thumb, almost soothing, before spanking you again—harder this time—right as he pushed back in with one long, wet thrust.

both of you groaned.

“shit—you're made for me—mm—i fuckin' swear—,” he muttered, gripping your hip with one hand while the other slid up your spine to fist in your hair. he tugged your head back just enough to make your back arch deeper, the pull sharp and perfect. “still so fucking full of me. look at you just taking it. greedy slut."

he started moving in deep, grinding thrusts, not even pulling out all the way—just rocking into you like he was trying to carve a permanent space for himself. every drag of his cock forced more cum out around him, the wet filthy sounds of it loud in the quiet room. you could feel it dripping down onto the pillows under you. every few thrusts he added another firm spank, the sting blooming hot across your skin, making you clench around him on instinct.

“you should see yourself right now,” he rasped, voice rough as he tugged your hair again, forcing you to look back at him over your shoulder. “ass red, dripping my cum, still begging for more with your body. nasty little slut.”

you pushed back to meet every thrust, shameless. “nngh—mhm—your nasty little slut.”

the sound he made was almost feral.

he leaned over your back, chest flush to your spine, and reached around to rub tight, mean circles over your oversensitive clit while his other hand stayed buried in your hair, keeping you exactly where he wanted. the dual stimulation ripped a broken cry out of you. your third orgasm had barely faded and already he was dragging you toward a fourth, relentless, talking filth against the shell of your ear the entire time.

“c’mon, baby. give me one more. milk my cock while i fill you up again. i know you can.”

you came hard—shaking, sobbing, clenching so tight around him that he cursed and had to still for a second just to keep from following you over. the second your body started to relax he was moving again, chasing his own high with short, brutal snaps of his hips, hand still fisted in your hair, another sharp spank landing across your ass right as he buried himself as deep as he could.

when he came it was with a long, broken moan muffled against the back of your neck. you felt every thick pulse, felt him pumping even more cum into you until it was overflowing, sliding down your thighs in messy streaks.

he collapsed half on top of you after, both of you panting, sweaty, completely wrecked. his cock was still twitching inside you. neither of you moved for a long time.

eventually yuma pressed a soft, almost sweet kiss to the bite mark he’d left, then soothed a gentle palm over the warm, pink skin of your ass.

“…okay,” he breathed, voice ruined. “okay. maybe we take five minutes.”

you laughed weakly into the sheets. “liar. give you three and you’ll be hard again.”

he didn’t even try to deny it. just nuzzled into the back of your neck and mumbled, “two minutes. tops.”

you stayed like that for like 6 minutes max—him still buried inside you, both of you sticky and trembling and already half-thinking about round whatever-this-was—until his breathing evened out a little and his hands started wandering again, slow and lazy over your stomach, your breasts, the insides of your thighs.

“think you can go for another?” he murmured against your shoulder, already half-hard again inside the mess he’d made of you.

you didn’t even answer with words—just arched your back and pushed your ass back against him in a slow, deliberate roll.

yuma’s laugh was low and dark.

“greedy fucking girl.”

he pulled out just long enough to deliver a sharp smack to the side of your ass. the sound cracked through the quiet room and you jolted with a soft gasp, heat blooming under his palm. he rubbed the sting in with his thumb, almost soothing, before spanking you again—harder this time—right as he pushed back in with one long, wet thrust.

both of you groaned.

“shit—still so soft and open for me,” he muttered, gripping your hip with one hand while the other slid up your spine to fist in your hair. he tugged your head back just enough to make your back arch deeper, the pull sharp and perfect. “still so fucking full. look at you just taking it.”

he started moving in deep, grinding thrusts, not even pulling out all the way—just rocking into you like he was trying to carve a permanent space for himself. every drag of his cock forced more cum out around him, the wet filthy sounds of it loud in the quiet room. you could feel it dripping down onto the pillows under you.

“ahh—fuck—” you whimpered, pushing back to meet him. “yuma…”

he clearly loved it; his breathing got heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair until your scalp tingled.

“you should see yourself right now,” he rasped. “ass pink from my hand, hair in my fist, stuffed full and still pushing back for more. such a greedy little slut.”

you clenched around him on purpose and let out a broken little moan. his hips stuttered.

“fuck—do that again.”

you did, gasping, “nnh—like that—feels so good—” and he rewarded you with another sharp spank that made you cry out and tighten even harder. the sound he made was pure filth.

“yeah. that’s it. my nasty girl likes it when it stings, huh?” he leaned over your back, chest flush to your spine, and kept the grip in your hair while his other hand slipped down between your legs. two fingers found your swollen clit and rubbed tight, mean circles right as he snapped his hips harder. “look at you. dripping all over my cock and still begging for it with this pretty little body.”

“ahh—ah, fuck, yuma—please—” the dual stimulation ripped a high, shaky moan out of you. your last orgasm had barely faded and already he was dragging you toward another, relentless, talking filth against the shell of your ear the entire time.

“c’mon, baby. give it to me. milk my cock while i fill you up again. show me what a good slut you are.”

“i—i’m gonna—ahhh—” you came hard—shaking, sobbing, clenching so tight around him that he cursed and had to still for a second just to keep from following you over. the second your body started to relax he was moving again, chasing his own high with short, brutal snaps of his hips. every thrust forced more of the mess out of you. every few strokes he spanked you again, the sharp crack of his palm mixing with the wet sounds of him fucking his own cum deeper into you.

“nghh—yes—ah—keep going, don’t stop—” you moaned, voice wrecked and needy, pushing back even as overstimulation made your thighs tremble.

when he came it was with his teeth sunk into the back of your shoulder and a long, broken moan muffled against your skin. you felt every thick pulse, felt him pumping even more into you until it was overflowing, sliding down your thighs in messy streaks. a soft, punched-out noise slipped out of you at the feeling.

he collapsed half on top of you after, both of you panting, sweaty, completely wrecked. his cock was still twitching inside you. neither of you moved for a long time.

eventually yuma pressed a soft, almost sweet kiss to the bite mark he’d left, then gentled the hand that had been twisted in your hair, stroking through the strands like an apology and a promise at the same time. his other palm soothed slowly over the warm, spanked skin of your ass.

“…okay,” he breathed, voice ruined. “okay. maybe we actually take five this time.”

you let out a soft, breathless laugh against the sheets. “five minutes. then shower.”

yuma hummed in agreement, still nuzzling the back of your neck, but his hands never really stopped moving—slow, lazy strokes over your stomach, your hips, the warm pink skin of your ass. true to form, it was closer to three minutes before you felt him hardening again inside you.

“shower, yu” you reminded him, voice still a little wrecked. “we’re disgusting.”

“mhm yeah,” he murmured, pressing one more open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder before finally pulling out with a wet sound that made both of you shiver. “c’mon.”

the walk to the bathroom was unsteady. the second the water was warm enough he pulled you under the spray with him, crowding you against the tile. you barely had time to tip your head back and let the water run over your face before his mouth was on yours again—hungry, deep, hands sliding down to grip your thighs and lift you.

“ahh—yuma—god—you are insatiable” you gasped as he sank back into you in one smooth thrust, the heat of the water mixing with the heat of him. your legs locked around his waist on instinct.

“can’t help it,” he muttered against your mouth, starting to move in steady, powerful rolls of his hips. the wet slap of skin on skin echoed off the tiles. “you feel too good. always so fucking tight for me.”

you moaned into his shoulder, nails digging into his back as he fucked you against the wall. every thrust forced soft, punched-out sounds out of you—“nnh—ah—yes—” until he had to clap a hand over your mouth when your voice got too loud.

“quiet, baby. neighbors.” but he was grinning against your temple, clearly loving every broken little noise you made for him.

he came with a low groan buried in your neck, filling you all over again while the water rinsed some of the mess down your thighs. you followed right after, shaking in his arms, a muffled whimper trapped behind his palm.

you didn’t even bother getting fully clean.

still dripping, still naked, still sticky with each other, yuma half-carried you out of the bathroom and straight into the kitchen. the second your back hit the cool counter he was between your legs again, spreading you open and sinking in with a shared, shaky moan.

“one more,” he panted, forehead pressed to yours. “just one more—fuck, you drive me crazy—”

“then stop talking and fuck me,” you breathed, and the sound he made was pure filth.

he did. hard and deep, one hand braced on the counter beside your hip, the other gripping your thigh to keep you open for him. the wet sounds of it were obscene in the quiet apartment. you came first this time, crying out against his mouth, and he followed almost immediately, burying himself to the hilt and pulsing inside you with a broken “shit—”

somehow you made it back to the bedroom after that.

yuma dropped onto the mattress and pulled you down on top of him, still inside you, both of you too spent to do more than grind lazily together until the last sparks faded. eventually he softened and slipped free, but neither of you moved to clean up. you just stayed tangled, sticky and warm and completely wrecked, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your spine while your breathing slowly evened out.

you were half-asleep when the front door opened.

there was a long, heavy pause.

then harua’s voice, exhausted and deeply unimpressed:

“…it smells like a fucking sex den in here.”

another pause. the sound of him kicking his shoes off harder than necessary.

“i’m going to taki’s. don’t wait up. and open a window, for the love of god.”

the front door slammed shut behind him.

yuma’s chest shook under your cheek with silent laughter. you smiled into his skin, too tired to do more than mumble,

“…oops.”

he pressed a slow kiss to the top of your head, arm tightening around you.

“worth it.”

© lunenet 2026 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱.  𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾  𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌  𝖺𝗋𝖾  𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅  𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽.  𝗎𝗇𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽  𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,  𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,  𝗆𝗈𝖽𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,  𝗈𝗋  𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇  𝗂𝗌  𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗁𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 & 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗿 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱!

[ikeuzito]

SUGARCOATED

(박종성) ✶ fem!reader

synopsis: you're moving into your college apartment when a handsome guy helps you with your heavy boxes on the stairs. He turns out to be Jay, your older neighbor — a lawyer who quickly becomes part of your new life. He listens to you ramble for hours but never offers much about himself, and you tell yourself it's fine, that everyone has boundaries. Being with him feels too right to question, so you let yourself fall anyway, completely lost in him and blind to what's right in front of you until it's too late.

includes: student!reader x lawyer!jay, age gap (not specified), neighbors to lovers (?), lots of domestic fluff mixed with rough sex, slow-burn buildup before the smut, explicit sexual content (mdni), big dick jay, size kink (emphasis on thickness, length, belly bulge, stretching, etc.), cockwarning, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, multiple orgasms, spitting in mouth, overstimulation, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, riding, missionary, spooning sex, car sex, doggy, spanking (punishment), manhandling, dirty talk, nipple play, soft dom!jay, brief mean dom jay, aftercare, pet names (princess & baby).

wc: 19.2k ─ a/n: ngl i'm so insecure about this... it took me forever to finish because i was running out of creativity and kept giving up, but i finally did it! really hope you guys like it anyways. i'd really appreciate any feedback! happy reading <33

comment here to join the tag list! .𝜗𝜚 ݁˖

You have been waiting for this moment for months, even years. You are finally moving out. It is because of college, but still, it is a new beginning far from home — a brand-new chapter in your own space. A mix of excitement and nervousness settles in your chest, because living alone requires a lot of responsibility, and you are not sure if you are ready to handle it all.

For the past five minutes, you have been staring at the mountain of boxes crammed into the trunk and backseat of your car like a game of Tetris. You are wondering how you are going to carry so many boxes up to the third floor where your apartment is. With a deep breath, you finally grab one of the boxes, and immediately stagger under its weight.

"Maintenance. Sorry for the inconvenience" reads the sign taped to the elevator doors.

Drops of sweat form on your temples, down the back of your neck, and pool on your spine, making your shirt stick to your skin. Of course it would be hot as hell on the day of your move, and of course the elevator wouldn't be working — talk about lucky.

You take another deep breath, hug the box against your chest, and begin climbing the stairs slowly, careful not to lose your balance.

Your arms are trembling and your breathing is almost as heavy as the box by the time you finally reach the first floor, forcing you to set it down for a moment to rest. But just as you pick it up again, mentally preparing for the next flight of stairs, the sound of footsteps coming down from above catches you off guard.

A man is coming down the stairs. He’s tall, wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the prominent veins on his forearms. His jaw is sharp — probably sharper than any knife you’ve ever seen. He looks so put-together that you suddenly feel embarrassed by your sweaty face and disheveled state.

Seeing you, he stops immediately, his eyebrows furrowing with mild concern. "Whoa. Let me help you with that." His voice is low and smooth, the kind of voice that sends a shiver down your spine before you can stop it.

You blush, heat rising from your neck to your cheeks. "Oh, you don’t have to. I can manage—"

"I insist," he replies gently, waiting with his hands hovering, giving you the choice. You let him take the box, and the relief is immediate — your arms practically sing in gratitude. He lifts it as if it weighs nothing, cradling it against his chest with just one arm — the same box you were struggling to carry with both. "I’m Jay, by the way."

You quickly wipe the sweat from your forehead and try to fix your hair because you want to look at least a little presentable for the incredibly good-looking man helping you. "Thank you so much. I’m y/n. I’m moving in today, to apartment 3B."

Jay’s expression softens, and a warm smile spreads across his face. "3B? That’s interesting. I live right next door, in 3A." He nods toward the stairs. "Looks like we’re neighbors." He gestures ahead. "After you."

You both climb the remaining stairs together and your heart still pounding. You can’t tell if it’s from the physical effort earlier or from his company. Because of the nerves, the words start tumbling out before you can stop them.

"I’m starting college this week. I got accepted and everything, and I was so excited when I found this apartment. It’s the first time I’ve ever lived away from home, so I’m really thrilled… but also kind of terrified? Like, what if I get lost on campus? What if my classes are way harder than I expected? I brought way too much stuff, I’m kind of attached to my things, you know?" You let out a breathless laugh. "Sorry, I’m probably talking too much. I get really chatty when I’m nervous."

Jay glances at you as you walk, the box still balanced effortlessly in his arms. He doesn’t look annoyed — in fact, he seems amused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You’re not talking too much. It’s a big change, but you’re doing great."

You bite your lower lip, watching him as you climb. There is something intriguing about him that sparks your curiosity. "And you? Are you a student too, or…?"

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "No, I’ve already graduated. I work at a company downtown." He says it casually, offering no further details — which only makes you even more curious.

You reach the landing of the second floor and have to stop to catch your breath, while Jay doesn’t even seem slightly winded — it’s honestly impressive. "My parents helped me pack my bags, but they’re hours away now. It’s exciting, though. New city, new people. I just hope I don’t ruin everything."

"You won’t," Jay says gently. "Everyone feels like that at the beginning. The nervousness is normal. Besides, you seem like you have a good head on your shoulders. You’ll find your rhythm." He sets the box down carefully in front of your door. "Ready for another round?"

The words hit you like a spark. "Ready for another round." And before you can help it, your mind immediately drifts, imagining Jay on top of you, his strong body pressing you into the mattress, that same low voice murmuring the question against your neck while his hands pinned your wrists above your head. Heat flooded your face and settled lower in your belly.

You quickly shake your head, trying to push the thought away, desperately hoping your blush isn't too obvious. "Yes, let's do it."

He carries the rest of the boxes for you, going up and down the stairs multiple times. Meanwhile, you keep rambling nonstop about what you are studying, where you are from, and how you are feeling about this new phase of your life. He listens as if he genuinely cares, and even though you can’t quite place the age difference between you two, you feel surprisingly comfortable with him.

When the last box finally makes it through the door, you stand in the hallway with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Jay. Honestly. I don’t know what I would have done without you."

"Glad I could help. Moving is a big step. If you need anything else, I’m right next door." With that, he returns to his own apartment, leaving you surrounded by a sea of boxes that will clearly take hours to unpack.

A few days pass. You unpack — not everything, just the most important things. Your first classes are overwhelming. You get lost twice, accidentally walk into the wrong lecture hall, and sit through an entire lecture on quantum physics before realizing your mistake. But as embarrassing as it was, that mistake ended up leading you to a guy named Jake, who turned out to be incredibly nice and cute.

Now you are standing outside Jay’s door with a plate of cupcakes in your hands, ready to properly thank him for helping you with the move. The thing is, you can’t really bake; you tried making the cupcakes yourself but ended up burning the batch, so you had to go to the bakery on the corner to buy a box of them instead. They look a bit too professional, but since he doesn't know about your complete lack of kitchen skills, you're confident he won't suspect a thing — especially since you took them out of the box and arranged them nicely on a plate just to be extra safe.

You knock on his door, your heart pounding hard in your chest. He opens it a moment later, and his face lights up when he sees you. "Hey, neighbor," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "How are classes going?"

"Good," you reply, pushing the plate forward with a little too much force. "Great, actually. I only got lost twice today, which is an improvement." Your smile widens. "I brought these for you. For helping me with the move. I made them myself."

He looks at the cupcakes, then back at you, this time raising an eyebrow. "You made these?"

"Yes," you say, nodding firmly with your chin held high, trying to look confident. "From scratch. All by myself. I’m pretty good at baking."

He picks up one of the cupcakes and examines it, narrowing his eyes as he brings it closer to his face. You feel your determination starting to crumble.

"Really?" he asks with a smile, clearly testing how long you will keep up the lie. "From scratch?"

You hold his gaze for three whole seconds before you look away in embarrassment. Your shoulders drop and your face turns as red as a tomato. "Okay, fine. I bought them at the bakery on the corner. I took them out of the box so you would think I’m a functional adult who knows how to bake." You laugh at yourself. "I tried making them the other day, Jay. I set off the smoke alarm. I’m a danger to this entire building."

He throws his head back and laughs — not mocking you, but with a genuine, warm laugh that makes you feel less embarrassed about pretending you had baked the cupcakes. "Oh my God, you actually burned them?"

"I once burned noodles. I’m a total disaster in the kitchen."

He steps aside, still smiling, and gestures for you to come in. "Alright, come in. I’ll split one of these ‘homemade’ cupcakes with you. It’s the least I can do for someone who put so much effort into the task."

Your mom’s voice whispers in the back of your mind: "Don’t talk to strangers and definitely don’t go into their apartments, sweetheart." But is he really a stranger? He is your neighbor who carried all your boxes without complaining, and the way he stands there holding the plate of cupcakes with that smile makes you not hesitate at all.

You follow him inside. He leads you to the kitchen, grabs two small plates, and carefully unwraps a vanilla cupcake, splitting it in half before sliding one piece toward you.

"Have a seat," he says, pointing to the stool by the kitchen island.

"So, you mentioned you work downtown? What exactly do you do?" you ask as you sit down.

"I’m a lawyer," he replies, taking a bite of his half and nodding in approval. "Good choice of bakery, by the way."

You laugh, biting into yours. "A lawyer. That makes a lot of sense. You have this… I don’t know how to say it without sounding weird, but you have this organized vibe. Like you’re really good at arguing without even raising your voice."

His smile widens. "People have definitely told me that before that I have a ‘courtroom voice.’ It’s just my normal voice, only lower and slower. People tend to listen when you don’t yell."

"You’ll have to show me someday. If I ever get in legal trouble, I’ll know exactly who to call."

"Please don’t get in legal trouble. But if you do, I’m your guy."

The conversation flows just as easily as it did on moving day, and before you know it, you’re venting about your annoying professor, how massive the campus is, and all the times you’ve already managed to get lost. Between all the talking, the cupcakes completely disappear, leaving the coffee he made to sit cold and barely touched in your mug. There’s just something about him that instantly puts you at ease.

Despite the age gap, he never talks down to you or makes you feel small, which makes talking to him completely effortless. It’s just so comforting to have someone around who listens to you with that much care and attention — especially when he happens to be incredibly good-looking, leaving you totally hooked since the very first day.

As he walks you to the door when you finally get up to leave, he snatches a pen and a post-it note to scribble something down. Before you know it, he’s pressing the paper into your palm, his fingers brushing lightly against yours and sending a sudden warmth to your cheeks as he says, "Here’s my number, in case you ever need anything."

"Thank you," you say, smiling a little too wide.

He nods. "Anytime. Seriously. Don’t be a stranger."

────────

The grocery bags dig painfully into your fingers as you stand in the lobby, staring at the elevator doors that are still under maintenance. You look at them as if a miracle might happen — maybe if you stare for one more second, God will take pity and finally fix it. Nothing happens, of course, which makes you let out a long sigh of frustration. It has been days since you moved in and the elevator is still not working.

Your arms already hurt from carrying way too many bags. You definitely should have made two trips, but stubbornness won.

Reaching the second floor is pure torture; your arms are burning, those plastic handles are digging right into your palms, and the bags keep swinging awkwardly against your legs. Trying to stop and adjust your grip only makes things worse, to the point where you're seriously considering just sitting right there on the stairs and crying.

You finally collapse against the wall at the third-floor landing, letting the bags slide to the floor just to catch your breath. Right then, the door to 3A clicks open and Jay steps out — perfectly dressed for work with that annoyingly handsome lawyer look that instantly makes your stomach do a little flip.

He sees you immediately. For a second, his eyes take in the whole scene — your flushed face, the many overloaded bags, and the way you are leaning against the wall breathing heavily. A light, amused laugh escapes him. It is not mocking, just genuinely entertained, as if he expected nothing less from you.

"Carrying heavy stuff again?" he asks, walking toward you. "You really don’t learn, do you?"

Before you can even open your mouth to protest, he is already reaching for the bags, picking them all up at once as if they weigh absolutely nothing. His strong arms support the weight so effortlessly that his biceps press against the fabric of his dress shirt, making it completely impossible for you not to stare.

He turns and walks toward your door, carrying everything like it is nothing.

At your doorstep, Jay sets all the bags down carefully against the wall and turns to face you. His expression is calm, almost unreadable, but there is something more in it. You understand it the moment he starts speaking in a gently scolding tone. "You really shouldn’t carry so much at once," he says, crossing his arms. "It’s not safe and it’s clearly too heavy for you. Make two or three trips next time. Look at your hands, they’re all red. You were hurting yourself. Why? Because you’re way too stubborn, huh?"

You glance down at your palms, and they are red where the plastic handles dug in. "I was fine," you say, though even you do not believe it. "I almost made it."

"Don’t be stubborn."

"You sound exactly like my dad," you reply, crossing your arms to mimic him. "He’s always telling me I’m too stubborn for my own good."

Jay’s lips curve into a small smile. "Because you really are," he says with so much certainty that you cannot even argue back. "I’m serious. Next time, make multiple trips or just text me. I’d rather help than watch you struggle like that."

There is a protective tone in his voice that makes your cheeks warm with a mix of embarrassment and something else stirring low in your stomach. He is lecturing you like a child, but somehow it sounds kind of hot coming from him.

Then he glances at the grocery bags again. Now that the scolding is over, he seems to actually pay attention to what is inside them. He picks one up and looks inside — it is full of frozen meals, instant noodles, ultra-processed food, and canned goods. "Look, I know you’re in college now, but that doesn’t mean you have to live on processed food. It’s quick, sure, but you need real fresh stuff, not just things that come out of a can. Eating like this long-term isn’t good for you. You could get sick."

You blink, caught off guard by the extra lecture. He is fully in dad-mode now, and there is something strangely attractive about how seriously he takes it, like he is genuinely worried about you. "Okay, okay. I get it… I already told you I’m a disaster in the kitchen, so I just grabbed whatever is easiest so I don’t starve."

Jay’s expression softens a little. "I’m not trying to scold you. I just know how easy it is to fall into bad habits when you’re living on your own for the first time." He pauses and adds in a gentler voice, "If you ever need help in the kitchen, you know where to find me. I’m not exactly a chef, but I know how to make real meals."

Your mind wanders again because you can’t help it — you picture him in your kitchen, standing right behind you while teaching you how to cook, his hands guiding yours, the warmth of his body against your back…

"I’ll try to do better, I swear. Thanks for helping again. I think I owe you something now. How about brownies as a thank you this time?"

Jay shakes his head, chuckling softly. "You don’t owe me anything. Just be more careful next time." He glances at the heavy bags one more time. "Need help carrying these inside?"

You shake your head quickly. "I can handle it from here. I bet you’re busy, you look like you’re heading to work."

He checks the watch on his wrist. "Yeah, I have a meeting soon, but the offer stands anytime." Before turning to leave, he gives you one last firm look. "Take care of yourself."

After he leaves, you drag the bags inside, one half first and then the other, just like Jay suggested.

That night, you are sprawled on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when you open your contacts. You saved Jay’s number, of course, but you have been telling yourself you don’t need to text him. It is an emergency-only number, but then you think about him carrying your groceries, the effortless way he took them from you, and the gentle scolding in his voice. Before you can overthink it, you are already typing a message to him.

────────

It is already past midnight and you have been staring at the same page of your textbook long enough for your vision to blur. Your brain has officially given up — it is impossible to absorb a single word more after hours of studying.

You are about to slam the book shut to take out your stress on it and drag yourself to bed when a soft knock sounds at the door. Your heart jumps slightly because you were not expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.

Another knock.

You get up slowly, stretching your sore muscles, and walk to the door. When you open it, Jay is standing there, looking different tonight without his formal work clothes and lawyer posture. He is wearing a simple white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and is barefoot. He looks relaxed, holding a bottle of red wine — as if he made the sudden decision to knock on your door and came straight over without even putting shoes on.

"Hey," he says, his low voice making your stomach flip. His eyes scan over you, taking in your tired face, messy hair, and pajamas. Something in his expression softens.

"Hey," you reply softly, matching his tone.

"Hey," he repeats, then laughs when he realizes what he just did.

"Hey," you answer again, this time with a small smile. "You already said that."

"I know." He laughs again, shaking his head. "I just… it’s late."

"Very late."

"I know." He lifts the bottle slightly. "I bought this earlier today but… it’s no fun drinking alone."

You look at the wine, then back at him. The way he is standing there — messy hair, ridiculously handsome, and a little too soft — makes going back to bed suddenly seem like a very stupid choice. "Are you inviting me to drink with you?"

"I’m asking if you want to take a break. From everything."

The way he looks at you with those inviting eyes makes the decision easy, but you decide to tease him first. "I don’t usually drink with strangers."

"We’re not strangers," he says, his voice soft. Your teasing does not seem to faze him.

"We’re not exactly friends either," you reply, tilting your head and studying his reaction.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a small, almost lazy smile. "Then let’s change that."

You pretend to consider it for a moment, even though you were already fully committed the second you saw him at your door. "Mmm, okay. But let’s do it at your apartment. Mine is a mess."

His smile widens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Alright, whatever you want."

You grab your keys and follow him, also barefoot, to the door next to yours. His apartment is clean and organized as always, which makes the space feel strangely comforting. In the kitchen, he pours two glasses of wine and hands you one, his fingers brushing against yours for half a second and sending a spark through your body.

"Cheers," he says, raising his glass.

"Cheers," you repeat, gently clinking your glass against his.

You take a sip and let out a small, involuntary hum of appreciation — it is much better than you expected, probably the most expensive wine you have ever tasted. He gestures toward the living room. "Come on, let’s sit," he says, leading the way to the couch. You follow and settle onto his couch, trying to look more relaxed than you actually feel.

"This is nice," you say, taking another sip.

He sits on the other end of the couch — close enough to talk comfortably, but far enough to be polite. "It’s just wine." He takes a sip, watching you over the rim of his glass.

"I mean relaxing… not thinking about classes for the first time."

He nods, understanding. "You think about classes a lot."

"It’s pretty much my entire life right now," you admit with an awkward little laugh, taking another sip.

"I remember going through that too. Everything revolving around exams, assignments, and exhausting responsibilities."

You tilt your head, studying him. "You make it sound like ancient history."

"Sometimes it feels like it." He takes a sip, not breaking eye contact. "I still remember when I was in college. I used to think a bad grade would ruin everything." A dry laugh escapes him as he shakes his head. "There’s so much pressure."

Suddenly you find yourself wanting to know more about him, drawn by the experienced tone in his voice and posture. The wine is already loosening your tongue, so you ask. "How old are you, anyway?"

A small, playful smile appears on his lips. "I’m old enough."

You narrow your eyes, trying to hold back a smile. "That’s not an answer."

"It’s the only one you’re getting." He takes another sip.

"That’s annoying," you say, leaning forward slightly and resting your elbows on your knees.

"Maybe I am annoying." He shrugs, but there is a sparkle in his eyes that tells you he is enjoying this.

"You’re avoiding the question," you accuse, pointing a finger at him.

"I’m protecting my privacy."

"From what? Your neighbor?" You laugh, raising an eyebrow.

"Especially from my neighbor."

You pout, pretending to be hurt. "Fine. Keep your secrets."

"Everyone has secrets," he says, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone.

"I don’t." You are not even sure why you say it. Maybe it is the wine, or the way he is looking at you right now.

"Everyone does." He holds his ground. "You have secrets too."

Your pulse quickens. "I don’t."

"Yes, you do."

You swallow hard. The air between you feels thicker now, charged with something you can’t quite name. You shift slightly on the sofa and notice how easy it would be to reach out and touch him. "So you have a lot of secrets, huh?" you ask, curious.

"Yes. Quite a few."

"Like what?" you press, wanting to see what he will give you.

"If I told you, they wouldn’t be secrets anymore." His lips curve into a slow, almost predatory smile.

"Touché." You raise your glass in an ironic toast, making him laugh.

A comfortable but heavy silence settles between you for a moment, thick with tension as you exchange glances and take slow sips. The wine is definitely doing its job — making your words come out slower, your laughter easier, and your body warmer.

"How old are you?" he asks, breaking the silence.

You blink, caught off guard. "Me?"

"Yes, you." He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "You asked me, so I’m asking you back."

You smile, deciding to play his game. "I’m old enough."

A low, surprised laugh escapes him — rich and genuine. "That’s my line."

"I know." You take another sip to hide your smile.

"You stole my line."

You just shrug. "I borrowed it."

"That’s not how borrowing works."

"Yes, it is."

He laughs again. "You’re impossible."

"Am I? What else?" You raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

"You’re something," he says, his voice dropping again.

"What?" You are not sure what he means by that.

"I don’t know yet." He keeps his eyes fixed on you. "But I’m figuring it out."

You feel your cheeks heat up and take another sip of wine to try to hide your reaction. Jay, however, keeps watching you, and you can tell he noticed.

"You know what I’ve noticed?" By now your voice is a little slurred, so you have to be careful with the words that come out of your mouth.

"What?" His wine glass is almost empty. He sets it on the coffee table and turns all of his attention to you.

You lean back on the couch, turning to face him more directly. Your knee brushes against his thigh, but neither of you pulls away. "You don’t talk much about yourself."

He tilts his head, frowning slightly. "Don’t I?"

"No. You listen, but you don’t share. Like, you’re dodging right now. You give answers, but you don’t really answer."

"Well, I’m trying to protect myself," he says simply.

"Protect yourself from what?" You lean forward, genuinely curious now.

"From getting too attached." The words are honest, and you definitely were not expecting them.

You stare at him, your hand frozen halfway to taking another sip. "From what?"

"To you." His voice is almost a whisper, making your pulse race and your skin flush.

"Why would you get too attached to me?"

He stays silent for a moment, his eyes tracing over you as if he wants to memorize every detail. "Because it’s easy to get attached to you."

"No, it's not," you say, shaking your head as a small, incredulous laugh escapes you.

"It is." His voice is gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. "You just don’t see it."

You look away, feeling your entire body grow warmer. "You’re dodging again."

"I’m being honest." He leans forward slightly, and you can smell him now — a masculine scent mixed with the light sweetness of the wine.

You set your glass on the coffee table and turn to face him completely, the wine making you bolder. "You’re giving me half-answers. You’re telling me just enough to make me curious, but not enough."

He stays quiet for a moment, thinking. "What do you want to know?"

You hold his gaze. "Something real. Truly honest."

Silence stretches between you, thick with something heavy and suffocating that you can't quite name. Then he whispers, "I think you’re beautiful."

Your breath catches, and for a second you are not sure you heard him correctly. "That’s not—" you begin, but he interrupts you.

"It’s honest."

"You can’t just say that," your voice barely comes out as a whisper.

"I just did." His gaze doesn’t leave yours for even half a second.

"It’s too… direct."

"You asked for it." He says it simply, like it is the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re a tease," you say, not sure if you are complaining or not.

"Wait until you find out what else I am. You want to know me? Then make sure you’re ready."

You do not know what to say or what to do, so you look away, your face burning.

When he finally walks you to your door, you are a little unsteady on your feet. He steadies you with a gentle hand on your waist, and the touch is enough to send shivers through your body. "I’m fine," you murmur, even though you are swaying slightly.

"You’re drunk," he says, smiling at your messy state.

"I’m a little tipsy," you reply, giving him a blurry-eyed look.

"You’re drunk."

"It’s the same thing," you mutter dismissively.

"No, it’s not." He is looking at you with that warm, steady gaze that makes your knees feel weak.

You smile, light and tipsy. "Yes, it is."

At your door, you miss the lock twice. He laughs softly before helping you. "Thank you," you whisper. "For this, for the wine, the company, and everything."

His lips curve into a small, warm smile. "Good night, old enough.:

You smile again — you seem to always be smiling when he is around. "Good night, old man."

You step inside, close the door, and lean against it with your heart racing and your whole body warm from the wine and his words — still smiling like an idiot.

A few minutes later, you are curled up in bed when your phone buzz on the nightstand.

────────

You have been tossing and turning on the mattress for what feels like hours — shifting positions, turning to the other side, but nothing helps. You can’t fall asleep — you mind refuses to stop, racing with thoughts about exams, deadlines, and the weight of all your responsibilities pressing down on your shoulders. You need air, you need to feel like you are not suffocating in that apartment, surrounded by boxes you haven't even had the time to unpack yet. There are several unfinished notes on your desk that constantly remind you that you are not doing enough, no matter how hard you try.

So you go up to the rooftop. The cool night air hits your face and lets you breathe again.

The city is an endless sea of lights — countless tiny glowing points in the darkness that remind you how small you really are. You sit on the old bench near the edge of the roof, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them like a shield.

Your thoughts slowly begin to calm as the minutes pass, and the knot in your chest loosens just a little.

Then the door creaks open behind you.

You turn quickly, your body instantly on alert and your heart racing. And there he is — Jay. He is wearing sweatpants and a black shirt, something about this casual, almost domestic look makes your heart skip a beat. He sees you immediately and stops. Surprise flashes across his face for a second before it turns into that familiar half-smile.

"Can’t sleep either?" His voice is low, almost intimate in a way that makes you shiver.

You shake your head. "I have too much on my mind right now…"

He nods as if he completely understands — and he really does. Walking toward you, he stops at a respectful distance before sitting on the bench beside you — close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, but not so close that he invades your personal space. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." You shift over a little even though there is already enough space.

He leans back, looking up at the sky, which is beautiful tonight with a full moon and stars shining brightly. The silence stretches between you. He doesn’t force conversation; he simply sits there observing the sky and the city with you. The silence is not awkward — it is actually comforting, especially when you are with him.

"I can’t sleep," you admit, breaking the silence with words that slip out before you can stop them. "I try, but my brain just won’t stop. Every time I close my eyes, I start thinking about all the things I have to do, all the things I haven’t done, and all the ways I’m probably going to mess everything up."

"What’s on your mind?" His voice is gentle and patient as always, showing that he is ready to listen.

"Everything." You let out a shaky sigh. "College, exams, being away from my family for the first time… It’s a lot. I thought I was ready, that I could handle it. But sometimes it feels like I’m drowning and I don’t know how to swim. Literally."

"I know how that feels," he says after a long moment of silence. His eyes stay fixed on yours, and there is something raw in them — something honest. "I remember feeling exactly like that. Like everything was too much and I was too small to handle it."

"You’re talking about yourself. That’s new," you say softly. "You always ask about me, but you never—"

"You already have enough on your plate," he cuts in gently.

You blink, caught off guard. "What?"

"You’re stressed about college, adjusting to a new city, and far from your family," he keeps his gaze steady on you, his expression sincere. "You don’t need to hear about my problems too."

"That’s not how it works." You shake your head as something warm and confusing blooms in your chest. "We’re supposed to share things. That’s what—" You pause, searching for the right word. "That’s what friends do."

"I don’t want to burden you when you’re already dealing with so much, and I certainly don’t want to make it worse."

You stay quiet for a moment, his words stirring something you cannot quite name — but it feels good. "That’s really… kind," you finally say.

"I try." He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips.

The silence settles again, and you sit together quietly for a while longer. Then, out of nowhere, he tilts his head and asks, "How’s your succulent doing?"

You laugh at the unexpected question. "You’re asking about my plant?"

"I remember you mentioned it." He turns toward you — fully turning his body — with a small playful smile on his lips. "I bet you gave it a name."

You shake your head, still smiling. "I haven’t named it yet… but it’s still alive, which is honestly impressive."

"You’re supposed to water it," he says in a gently scolding tone.

"I know." You look away, feeling a little guilty about slowly killing a plant.

"But you forget." There is no judgment in his voice, only warm amusement.

"I forget." You laugh — something you always do when you are with him. "I have a lot on my mind, okay?"

"You’re a plant killer." He smiles, making you grin even wider.

"I’m not a plant killer! I’m just… forgetful. It is surviving, which is more than I can say about myself sometimes."

Something in your words changes his expression. It is still gentle, but now there is a hint of concern. "You’re doing better than you think."

You don’t know what to say, so you just look at him, with the words stuck in your throat.

"Does the succulent at least have company?" he asks after a moment, his voice light as always.

You blink, confused by the sudden question. "What?"

"Other plants, maybe some flowers, something to keep it company. Plants get lonely too."

You laugh, shaking your head. "I don’t think it gets lonely. It’s just a plant, after all."

"All living things have feelings. It definitely feels lonely," he says with so much conviction that you almost believe him.

"That’s not scientifically accurate," you reply, not entirely sure if what you are saying is accurate either.

"I never said it was." He shrugs. "I’m a lawyer. I deal with arguments, not facts."

"They’re the same thing."

"Not at all." He shifts closer to you on the bench, making sure you are listening. "Facts are objective. Arguments are subjective. I make a living turning subjective arguments into something that sounds like objective facts."

"That’s… something. And you’re so weird."

"I’m just concerned about your plant’s loneliness." His voice is incredibly serious, showing that he is taking this very seriously.

"You’re worried about my plant," you say, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, just like I worry about you."

You don’t know what to say again — Jay has a way of leaving you speechless. Your cheeks flush and you look away. "I’ve never received flowers before, anyway…" you say softly, the secret slipping from your lips.

Jay is not sure he heard you correctly. "What did you say?"

Even though you hesitate, you repeat it, louder this time. "I’ve never received flowers." You look down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. "I had a boyfriend before, but he was an idiot. He never did anything romantic like giving me flowers or taking me for dates."

He stays silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you while your heart pounds loudly in your ears. He is thinking about something — you can tell by the way his jaw tightens. "Would you want to go on one? With me."

You stop breathing the moment you hear his words and everything around you seems to freeze. "What?"

"A date. A real date where I pick you up, open doors for you, and take you somewhere nice. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. It can just be two people spending time together. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

Your heart is beating so hard you are sure he can hear it, your mouth is dry, your palms are sweaty, and the words feel stuck in your throat again. Jay is asking you out on a date — a real date. The age gap has been on your mind since the day you met — he is a lawyer and you are still trying to figure out how to live on your own, but every interaction with him feels safe, like he truly sees you.

"Jay, I—" You stop, taking a shaky breath.

"You don’t have to answer right now," he says gently, giving you time to think.

"No, I—" You take another deep breath, and this time the words come out steady. "Yes. Yes, I want that."

His face transforms — a slow, warm smile spreads across his lips and reaches his eyes, making your stomach flip and your heart race just like always.

"Great," he says softly. "I’ll plan something."

A shy laugh escapes you as the reality of it sinks in. "What do you like to do on dates? I’m sure you’ve been on plenty."

He leans forward a little, resting his elbow on his knee. "I want to know what you like. That’s what matters right now, tell me your preferences so I can plan something good for you."

As you think for a moment, you suddenly feel embarrassed by how limited your preferences are. "I’m kind of picky, honestly. I like pasta, I hate anything too spicy, and I don’t like overly sweet desserts. Oh, and I’m not a big fan of seafood unless it’s fried. Is that too much?"

Jay listens attentively, nodding as if he is absorbing every detail. "Not at all. Being picky isn’t a problem, it actually makes it easier to get it right." He pauses, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. "You know, for someone who’s a disaster in the kitchen, you have very specific opinions, princess."

The nickname lands softly between you — affectionate and teasing, with a hint of warmth. Your breath catches, your face flushes instantly, and you lower your head to hide the redness in your cheeks and the smile forming on your lips.

"I… You can’t just say that," you murmur, looking at him through your lashes.

"Why not?" He is smiling even more now, clearly enjoying your reaction. "It suits you. You have high standards and you know exactly what you want, even if you pretend you don’t."

You cover your face with both hands for a second, peeking through your fingers. "You’re going to make me regret saying yes."

"Too late," he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate. "You already said yes."

You lower your hands and meet his gaze, your heart racing in the best possible way. Jay stands up suddenly and offers you his hand. "Come on, it’s getting late and you have class tomorrow. Let’s get you back inside before you freeze."

You take his hand — which is so much bigger than yours — and let him help you up. He doesn’t let go afterward, his fingers stay intertwined with yours as you walk together toward your floor. The elevator is no longer broken, but you both take the stairs anyway, wanting to prolong the moment a little longer.

Stopping at your door, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand. “I'll text you about the date,” he says softly. "We’ll pick a night that works."

You nod, still feeling a little shy about everything. "Okay… Good night, Jay."

"Good night, princess."

────────

The next day, you are more nervous than you have ever been. Every notification on your phone makes your heart skip a beat, terrified that it is Jay confirming the date. Your stomach is in knots with a mix of panic and hope, even though you want to go on this date, you are still incredibly nervous about it.

Your phone buzzes while you are in the library trying to study. "Friday at seven? I’ll take care of everything. Just be ready for a proper night out."

The words "proper night out" send a shiver through you. He is taking this seriously, treating it as something special, even though he said it didn’t have to be romantic. Still, it means something. Smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt, you text back agreeing.

When Friday finally arrives, the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. In fact, they become even more restless as the time of the date gets closer. Hours before, you start getting ready — taking your time as you choose an outfit that makes you feel confident and beautiful. You spend extra time on your makeup, keeping it natural but enhancing your eyes and lips, making sure everything is perfect.

Exactly at seven, you take the elevator down. Jay had insisted on waiting outside the building instead of knocking on your door. "I want you to have the full experience," he had texted earlier, and the gesture made you smile despite your nerves. The moment you step out onto the sidewalk, you see him leaning against his sleek black car parked at the curb. He looks unfairly handsome in a tailored dark shirt and pants.

For a moment, he simply looks at you — slowly scanning from your face to your dress and back up again as his smile widens. "You look beautiful," he says, taking a step closer. "Really, truly beautiful."

Your cheeks flush quickly and a smile forms on your lips. "Thank you. You look really handsome too."

Before you can say anything else, he reaches inside the car and pulls out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. "I remembered what you said on the rooftop…"

The bouquet is perfect, wrapped so beautifully that it makes your chest tighten. "Jay…" you whisper as you reach out to take the flowers. "They’re beautiful. I don’t even know what to say."

Without thinking, you give him a grateful hug. His arms wrap around you immediately, one hand resting on your lower back while the other gently caresses the nape of your neck. "You don’t have to say anything. Just enjoy tonight. That’s all I want."

When you pull away, still smiling widely, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and asks, "Ready to go, princess?"

You nod, holding the flowers like a lifeline. He opens the car door for you, waiting until you are settled before closing it gently. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he looks at you with a playful smile. "Seatbelt, please. Safety first."

You laugh and buckle up. "Such a gentleman."

"Only for you."

The drive starts peacefully, soft music playing in the background as you talk. He asks about your day and teases you lightly when you admit that you spent half of your class daydreaming about tonight and that it took you forever to choose what to wear.

You can’t stop stealing glances at him — the way his hands rest easily on the steering wheel, those large hands with long fingers, and the way he looks at you at red lights as if making sure you are still real.

After a few minutes, you notice the city lights fading and buildings giving way to trees. "Where are we going?" you ask curiously, realizing he has been driving for a while — much farther than you expected. "This is pretty far from our building. Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"

Jay laughs, keeping his eyes on the road. "I’m not going to kill you. I’m just taking you to a place I love, and I think you’ll love it too."

The drive takes about thirty minutes, but when you finally arrive, the restaurant leaves you breathless. You immediately understand why he chose it — it is cozy and elegant, with a stunning view of the city. He reserved a intimate corner table with the perfect view.

He pulls out the chair for you, and as soon as you sit down, he leans in slightly to whisper in your ear, "Relax, okay?"

The dinner unfolds perfectly. You order pasta — creamy, exactly the way you like it — and he chooses a steak dish, offering you a bite from his fork with a raised eyebrow that feels far more intimate than it should. You talk a lot, and he listens as always, head tilted and eyes focused only on you.

You tell him about the friendships you are making in college, about the strange noise your AC is making, and absentmindedly mention the doorman. "He’s nice, I think… but sometimes he looks at me like he knows something I don’t."

Jay’s expression shifts with something unreadable for half a second, but he quickly covers it with a soft chuckle. "He’s probably just in a bad mood. Or maybe he sees how much you’re distracting your poor neighbor."

You laugh. "Poor neighbor? You seem to be handling it pretty well."

His foot brushes against yours under the table. "Barely."

In the middle of the conversation, Jay’s phone buzzes on the table. He glances at it, frowns, and silences it, slipping it into his pocket.

But a few minutes later, it buzzed again. Jay sighs. "I need to take this. It’s probably an emergency with a client. I won’t be long. I’m really sorry."

"Go ahead. I’ll be here judging the dessert menu."

He leans in and gives you a quick kiss on your temple before standing up. "I’ll be right back, princess."

The casual display of affection makes your heart race as you watch him walk away. While he is gone, you take a sip of your wine, observe the people around you, and study the dessert menu.

He returns after about five minutes, sliding back into his seat with an apologetic smile. "All sorted. Where were we?"

When the check arrives, Jay pays without hesitation, even though you offered to split it. Outside, the night air is cold, so he drapes his jacket over your shoulders when he notices you shivering. Then he pulls you closer for a moment, wrapping his arms around you. "Thank you for saying yes," he murmurs against your hair.

You look up at him, smiling. "That was the best decision I’ve made in a long time."

The drive back feels shorter than the trip there, unfortunately — you wish this moment could last forever. Jay keeps one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles that send shivers down your spine. You arrive at the building sooner than you would like, but instead of stopping at the curb, Jay drives into the underground garage.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thank you, Jay. For everything, the flowers, the dinner, the evening… I had a really great time."

He turns to you, that slow smile playing on his lips. "I’m glad, princess."

You reach for the door handle, but his hand moves quickly, wrapping around your wrist and stopping you. Your breath catches at the unexpected contact. "Wait, aren’t you going to thank me properly?"

You blink, confused. "I just did? The hug outside the restaurant and just now."

Jay chuckles, and his gaze shifts into something hungrier. "That was sweet, but I was thinking of something a little more fitting for the end of a perfect night."

Without overthinking it, you lean across the console and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," you whisper again, pulling back to see his reaction.

His smile widens. "Still not enough, princess. Come here."

He cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer. The kiss starts soft, his lips meeting yours hesitantly, and you quickly melt into it, which makes him deepen the kiss while still keeping a slow, deliberate pace. His tongue traces your lower lip, and you part for him with a small sigh.

What begins as one kiss turns into many, you lose count as they grow more intense, hungry, and urgent.

Somehow, you end up climbing over the console. His hands guide your hips until you are straddling his lap in the driver’s seat. The space is tight and the steering wheel presses against your back, but you couldn't care less right now. His hands roam along your sides, sliding up your dress until they rest on your thighs, his thumbs drawing circles that make you whimper against his mouth.

You kiss him again and again, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging gently, which draws a low groan from him. That only encourages you — hips start moving on their own, pressing against the growing hardness beneath you. The friction makes you gasp, and Jay clearly loves the sight — he squeezes your thighs, encouraging your movements.

"God, you’re incredible," he whispers against your mouth between kisses. "So responsive… so perfect."

Jay pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, breathing hard. "You deserve better than this, princess. Our first time shouldn’t be in a car like a couple of impatient teenagers."

You kiss him again, more intensely, nipping at his lower lip. "I don’t care, I want you right here."

He groans, sliding his hand into your hair to pull you into another hungry kiss. "You’re so eager, princess… and so perfect grinding against me like this."

His mouth moves down to your neck, sucking lightly and drawing more whimpers from you. Your movements become restless, rubbing harder, chasing friction. "Jay…" you whisper between kisses. "I need you, please."

His hands find the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it up inch by inch with clear appreciation until he discards it onto the passenger seat. "Beautiful," he murmurs reverently as he stares at your tits. "So beautiful." He leans down, pressing hot, wet kisses along the soft skin, then his tongue circles one nipple before sucking it deeply into his mouth.

You arch your back, a moan escaping your lips. He gives the same attention to the other tit, licking, sucking, and grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth while his hand massages and caresses the first. “You taste so good,” he praises, his voice muffled. "These perfect tits in my mouth… you’re already trembling. So sensitive for me."

He kisses lower, along your sternum and ribs, then back up — worshipping every inch of you while you keep grinding against him. Your panties are soaked, and the friction against his hardness only turns you on more.

He waits until you’re trembling in his lap before he finally moves. Reaching between you, he lowers his pants and boxers just enough to free himself, and when he does, your eyes widen. He is big — thick and hard. The sight makes your mouth water and heat pool low in your belly.

Jay reaches into the glove compartment, fumbling for a condom. He tears it open and rolls it down his length with surprising skill while you watch, hypnotized and a little intimidated by his size and thickness. "You’re… really big," you say softly.

Jay notices your nervousness and caresses your cheek, trying to soothe you. "We’ll go slow, princess. I’ve got you. My good girl can take it."

He helps you shift your panties to the side, guiding you as you sink down onto him. The stretch is intense but delicious — you take him inch by inch, breathing deeply as he fills you completely, murmuring praises nonstop. "That’s it, princess… so tight, so good for me… so fucking perfect around me."

You bury your face in his neck as you sink all the way down, taking him completely until your ass is pressed firmly against his lap. "Oh God… you’re so, so big," you moan, still adjusting to the intense stretch.

The age difference flashes through your mind — he is older, more experienced, probably used to women who knew exactly what they were doing. You want to be good for him, so once you feel ready, you start moving — bouncing with almost frantic energy, desperate to please him. Your hips move and grind fast, determined.

"Easy, princess," Jay groans, gripping your hips to slow you down. "Slow… just like that. You feel incredible, but there’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere."

You moan, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. "I just… you’ve probably been with so many others who were better at this. I want to make it good for you. I want to be the best—"

He cuts you off with a deep kiss, then pulls back to look into your eyes while still guiding your movements into a slower, deeper rhythm. "Hey, none of that. It’s just you right now, and you’re already the best, baby. Look at how perfectly you take me." He thrusts up gently to emphasize his words, drawing a moan from you. "You’re my princess."

You relax into his words and the rhythm he sets, moving your hips in deep, grinding motions instead of frantic bouncing. It feels even better this way — his thickness brushing against every sensitive spot inside you. "Like this?" you ask breathlessly, your voice shy but needy.

"Just like that," he praises, his voice rough. "So good for me. So wet… so tight. You’re perfect, listen to those pretty sounds you make."

You keep whispering to him the whole time — shy confessions and soft, breathless questions. "You feel so good, Jay… I feel so full. Does it feel good for you? Tell me if you’re enjoying it."

He groans, his hands roaming over your back, squeezing your ass, then returning to your tits so he can lick and suck them while you ride him. "I love it. I love everything you do. The way you squeeze me… the way you say my name. You’re ruining me, princess."

The pleasure builds uncontrollably, intense and overwhelming, leaving both of you sweaty and breathless. He slides a hand between you to your clit, circling it with his thumb in time with your movements. You tremble hard, moaning and gasping, telling him how close you are, how good he feels, and how much you have wanted this since the day you moved in.

When you come, your walls pulse tightly around his thickness and your body shakes as you cry out his name. Jay follows right after, holding you firmly against him as he finishes into the condom with a deep groan, murmuring endless praises. "That’s it, come for me… so beautiful giving yourself to me completely… my perfect girl."

You collapse against his chest, both of you breathing hard. He wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing your temple while his hands gently caress your back. "You okay?" he whispers after a while. "Was it too much?"

"It was perfect," you murmur, nuzzling into his neck. "Better than I imagined. Thank you for slowing me down when I got too excited. I probably embarrassed myself, right?"

He shakes his head lightly and laughs, then he gives you one last kiss on your temple and helps you climb back into the passenger seat, watching as you slip your dress back on. "Don’t forget these," he says, reaching for the bouquet.

You take it with a happy smile. "I wouldn’t dare."

He walks around the car to open your door and intertwines his fingers with yours as you walk toward the elevator. Once inside, he pulls you close and kisses you the entire way up to your floor.

"Your place tonight?" you ask against his lips.

Jay’s hand slides to your lower back, pulling you even closer. "Yes, because I’m not done with you yet. I need you in my bed. The thought of you in my sheets, smelling like me when you wake up… it drives me crazy."

The elevator doors open and he pulls you down the hallway toward his door, unlocking it effortlessly. The moment you are both inside, he takes the flowers from your hand, sets them on the counter, and turns to you with hungry eyes. "Come here," he growls, pulling you into a deep, desperate kiss. His hands cup your face first, then slide down your body. "Let me take care of you properly this time."

He leads you to the bedroom and there, he undresses you slowly, admiring and kissing every inch of exposed skin. When you are completely naked, he steps back and looks at you with pure admiration and desire. "Fuck, look at you… so perfect. Every curve, every inch… all mine tonight."

He removes his own clothes and guides you onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. His warm palms caress them, spreading you open even more. His mouth is on you immediately, licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit before circling the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, savoring you. "Mmm, already so wet," the vibration of his voice makes you gasp. "You taste so sweet, princess. Like you were made for my mouth."

You let out a shaky moan, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer. "Jay… that feels incredible. Oh God—"

He slides a finger inside you, curling it against that sweet spot while his mouth continues sucking and licking. The suction around your clit, the rhythm of his finger stroking that perfect spot deep inside — it all turns the pleasure into something deliciously overwhelming. He adds a second finger, then a third, carefully stretching you as he pumps them in and out.

Your hips move against his face as the pleasure intensifies. "Don’t stop… please, Jay, just like that," you moan, your voice breathless and desperate. He eats you out like a starving man — licking, sucking, and thrusting his fingers into you until your thighs shake around his head and you fall apart with a long, loud cry. You clench and pulse around his fingers as the orgasm crashes through you.

Jay doesn’t stop right away, he keeps licking and fingering you through it, prolonging every sensation until you are limp and panting. Only then he drags his mouth up your body, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, between your breasts, and up your neck. "You taste like heaven," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I could do this all night, make you come on my tongue until you go stupid."

He grabs a condom from the nightstand and rolls it on quickly over his hard, leaking cock. You reach down, wrapping your hand around his thick, hard length — stroking him slowly, feeling the weight, the pulsing heat, tracing the veins with curiosity. "I want it raw, Jay… I need to feel you, please."

He groans deeply, his hips pushing forward into your fist. "Baby… protection first, remember? I’ll still make you feel good even with the latex between us, I promise." After kissing your forehead, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes in inch by inch, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. You feel a burning stretch as your walls slowly give way to him, every thick pulsing vein dragging against your sensitive insides. When he’s halfway in, you look down between your bodies and see the clear bulge pressing out against your lower belly.

He notices it right after and quickly slides a hand down to press against the bulge, feeling it move under his palm as he sinks deeper. "Fuck, look at that. You see how deep I am? My cock is rearranging your insides, princess. Stretching this tight pussy so you can see it from the outside."

Your hand joins his, pressing against the visible outline, feeling him move inside you from both the inside and the outside. He teases you mercilessly, thrusting slow and deep so the bulge shifts under your combined touch. "You’re taking me so well, like this pussy was made for my cock. So greedy, swallowing every inch."

He sinks the rest of the way in with a guttural groan, bottoming out completely. "Shit… so tight, so hot. You’re already milking me."

His thick cock fills you so completely that every movement presses against sensitive spots that steal the breath from your lungs. His thrusts start controlled and incredibly gentle instead of brutal force. One hand stays intertwined with yours above your head, while the other caresses your cheek, squeezes your breast, and lightly pinches your nipple before soothing it with his thumb. "You look like pure sin wrapped around me… My beautiful princess, creaming all over my cock, taking every inch like a good girl. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else."

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Jay… it feels so good. You’re so deep, I can feel you everywhere." He leans down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss as his hips move faster in a devastating rhythm that pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

You come hard around him, your walls fluttering and clenching tightly as you cry out. He does not stop, thrusting deep and steady, prolonging your orgasm until you are shaking. "Fuck, that’s it, come on my cock, baby."

Jay follows right after, burying himself as deep as possible with a long, broken groan of your name as he cums, pulsing inside you. He stays buried deep for long moments afterwards, holding you close and covering your face, neck, and shoulders with soft kisses until both of your breathing steadies.

Eventually, he pulls out carefully, discards the condom, and returns from the bathroom with a warm, damp cloth. He cleans you both gently, murmuring more praises the entire time. "You were perfect, princess. So responsive, so beautiful when you come for me." He pulls the sheets over both of you and wraps you in his arms.

Your head rests on Jay’s chest while his fingers trace a lazy path along your spine, down to the curve of your waist. Without a word, you shift, turning onto your side. Jay follows naturally, molding his body against yours from behind in a perfect spoon. His chest presses against your back as he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. You can already feel him half-hard again against the curve of your ass, sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

He nuzzles into the back of your neck, placing soft kisses there. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and rough in the quiet room.

"More than okay," you whisper back, pressing lightly against him. "I like feeling you close like this."

Jay reaches for another condom from the nightstand. You hear the faint rustle as he puts it on, then his hand returns to your body, tenderly caressing your side and hip. He lifts your top leg slightly, hooking it over his, opening you up for him. The thick head of his cock brushes against your entrance before he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, until he is buried completely inside you.

"So good," he whispers against your neck, sliding a hand up to caress your breast. His fingers massage gently, his thumb circling your nipple until it hardens under his touch.

He starts moving — slow, deep rolls of his hips, thrusting unhurriedly so you can feel every inch of his thick cock dragging against your walls. While he fucks you, his hand on your breast never stops worshipping it — squeezing, rolling your nipple between his fingers, occasionally pinching lightly before soothing it with gentle caresses. And his mouth keeps placing open-mouthed kisses along the back of your neck, back, and shoulder.

You reach behind you, running your fingers through his hair as you move with him. "Jay… deeper like that feels so good."

His thrusts become a little deeper, but still controlled. "You take me so well every single time. Look at how perfectly you fit around me. I could stay inside you forever." His mouth finds the sensitive spot on your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark while he continues playing with your breasts — pinching, rolling, and caressing until your nipples are deliciously sore. Only then he slid his hand down to your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. The combination of sensations is overwhelming and pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "You’re so close… I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me again, princess."

And you do. Your walls contract rhythmically around his thickness as you moan his name, your body trembling in his arms. Jay follows right after you, burying his face in your neck with a deep groan as he comes, filling the condom.

You turn your head slightly to capture his lips in a lazy kiss. "I feel so safe with you," you whisper. "And so wanted."

He stays inside you until the aftershocks fade, then carefully pulls out, discards the condom, and cleans you both once again with gentle care. He pulls the sheets up around you both and draws you back into his arms, spooning you again.

Jay’s hand rests tenderly on your stomach, tracing small circles there. You feel deeply in love and completely at peace as you start to drift off to sleep, safe in his arms.

Sunlight is already filtering through the curtains by the time you slowly wake up the next morning —.only to realize the space beside you is empty, even though the warmth of Jay’s body and the faint scent of his cologne still linger around. You stretch and sit up to look around the room, noticing one of his shirts draped over the back of a chair. Slipping it on, you pad barefoot out of the bedroom toward the kitchen, drawn by the rich aroma of coffee and food already filling the air.

Jay is at the stove, flipping eggs while a plate of toast and cut fruit waits for you on the counter. You walk up to him and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back. "Good morning."

He turns off the stove and turns around, settling his hands on your hips. His gaze softens instantly when he sees you wearing his shirt. "Good morning, princess. You look way too good in my clothes."

You laugh softly and tilt your face up, expecting a kiss. He leans in but pauses with a playful look. "Ah, but you haven’t brushed your teeth yet. No good-morning kisses until after breakfast."

You pout and dramatically pull away. "Not even a kiss on the cheek? You’re so cruel."

With a sigh, he gives in — pressing a long kiss to your cheek, then another to your forehead. Before you can say anything, he effortlessly lifts you and sits you on the edge of the kitchen counter, standing between your knees. "There. Now I can look at you properly while I finish this."

As he moves around the kitchen, your eyes wander until they stop on the refrigerator. Something catches your attention — photos are held up by magnets, but one in particular stands out: a Polaroid of Jay smiling with his arm around a woman’s shoulders. You hadn't noticed it on your previous visits to the kitchen — you had been too focused on him. "Who is that?" you ask curiously, nodding toward the fridge. "The woman in the photo with you?"

Jay glances over while sliding a plate toward you. "That’s my sister. We don’t look much alike, I know. We’re actually half-siblings."

You tilt your head, studying the photo for another second. They really do not look very similar, but that is not unusual for half-siblings. "She looks nice," you say lightly, accepting the plate he offers. "Breakfast looks delicious, by the way. You really didn’t have to."

"I wanted to," he replies, stepping between your knees and stealing a quick peck. "After last night, it feels right to take care of you this morning… and maybe every other morning too."

You smile shyly. "Speaking of last night… it was incredible. You made everything feel so good, so right. I keep replaying every part of it in my head."

He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "You were perfect, baby. I loved every second of it." He leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth. "You’re so beautiful when you let go for me."

"You’re going to make it really hard for me to focus in class today." You take a bite of the toast, savoring it. "Oh, by the way, I’m going out with some new friends from college tonight. They invited me to a party, it’s a chance to get to know each other better outside of class."

Jay nods, resting a hand on your thigh and stroking it lightly. "Sounds fun. Just be careful, okay? Text me when you get there and when you’re heading back."

"I will," you say, stealing another quick kiss from him. "I won’t stay out too late anyway. I have an early class tomorrow."

He picks up a piece of fruit from the plate and brings it to your mouth, brushing his fingers teasingly against your lips. "You deserve to have fun… I’ll be here if you need anything when you get back."

You stumble out of your friend’s car a little after 1 a.m., waving goodbye as you sway on your feet. You make your way toward the building entrance and suddenly remember that you promised to text Jay — which you didn’t. So you call him to let him know you arrived and are heading up. In response, he says he is waiting for you.

When you reach the third floor, Jay’s door is already open and he is waiting for you. "Heyyy," you say cheerfully, immediately wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. "I’m back. Just like I promised."

Laughing Jay’s arms wrap around you automatically as he looks at you more closely. "You’re pretty drunk, princess. How was the party?"

"So much fun," you ramble, clinging to him tighter as he guides you inside and closes the door. "We danced, there was a shot game, and my new friends are so funny. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt." You tilt your head up, puckering your lips. "Kiss?"

Instead of a proper kiss, he gives you a quick one on your forehead. "You smell like a distillery and your shirt is soaked, what happened?"

You look down at the sticky stain on your shirt and pout. "Someone spilled on me. It’s gross. But I still want kisses, real kisses." You try to pull his face down, standing on your tiptoes. "I missed you all night. I kept thinking about you during the party… about how nice you were last night. We should do that again right now."

Jay gently holds your wrists to stop you. "Not tonight, princess. You’re drunk."

"But I want you," you beg, pressing closer, but he doesn’t give in at all. "You’re so hot, so gentle, and… big. Please?"

He shakes his head and guides you toward the bathroom. "No. Only when you’re sober and can remember everything clearly. Right now, I’m just taking care of you, okay?"

"Let’s get you cleaned up," he says gently once you reach the bathroom. Reaching for the hem of your wet shirt he carefully pulls it off, followed by the rest of your clothes.

"You’re always so gentle with me," you murmur, watching him adjust the shower temperature. "No one has ever been this gentle. I really, really like you, Jay."

He smiles softly and helps you into the shower, joining you still fully dressed so he can take care of you. Jay keeps one hand on your waist to steady you while the other runs soapy over your shoulders and arms.

The alcohol in your system makes your emotions spill out easily before you can stop them. "I think… I think I’m falling for you," you confess, your tongue loose, making your cheeks flush. "Is that crazy? It feels too fast. I know I’m younger and still figuring everything out, but being with you just feels right. You make me feel safe, wanted, and special."

Jay pauses for half a second, processing what he just heard, but then continues washing you carefully — lathering the floral-scented body wash over your skin. "This smells like… girl stuff," you say, a little curious. "Is it yours?"

He looks away for a moment before answering. "It’s my mom’s. She left some things here the last time she came to visit."

"Ah," You rest your forehead against his chest as the water runs over both of you. "I meant it, though. About falling for you. Even if it’s too soon… I can’t help it."

Jay wraps his arms fully around you under the spray of water, holding you close — voice is full of affection when he finally replies. "Hey… look at me, princess." He gently lifts your chin. "What you’re feeling… I feel it too." Softly, he kisses your forehead, then the tip of your nose. "We don’t need to rush or label anything right now. Just know that I’m here and I care about you a lot."

Even in your alcohol-fueled haze, his words calm the part of you that was worried you were moving too fast. "Really? You feel it too?"

"I do." He continues washing you carefully — your arms, your back, your sides — just taking care of you. "Being with you is easy. Natural. So let’s just enjoy it, okay? One day at a time."

Jay finishes rinsing you off and helps you out of the shower. Wrapping you in a towel he dries you gently before dressing you in one of his shirts. By the time he guides you to bed, you are already sleepy. He helps you lie down and you snuggle into the sheets, murmuring one last "I really like you" before falling asleep.

────────

The following days feel almost too good to be real.

You wake up in Jay’s bed, wrapped in his arms and wearing one of his shirts. He always wakes up before you to make breakfast and greet you with a good morning kiss and that smile that still makes your heart flutter. But on some mornings, you pull him back into bed to cuddle before classes and work, and without any argument, he makes time to make you feel loved.

When you get home from class, tired, Jay is already there to greet you cheerfully despite his own exhaustion. He texts you during the day, asking how your classes are going and reminding you to eat. When you are together, he pulls you in for slow, affectionate kisses — the kind that make your legs weak. Some nights you cook together as he tries to teach you how to make proper meals. Other nights he orders takeout and you eat on the couch while you tell him every detail of your day. He still doesn’t share much about himself, always dodging the subject, but you do not push — you don’t want to be invasive.

The sex is frequent — sometimes slow and worshipful, his mouth and hands adoring every inch of you until you are trembling and coming apart. Other times it is faster and more urgent — against the kitchen counter, in the shower, on the couch, in his home office. One night you try baking cookies together, ending up covered in flour and laughing as he kisses the mess off your cheek. Another night you start watching a movie cuddled together, but the movie is forgotten halfway through when clothes come off and he fucks you right there on the couch.

Suddenly everything feels so domestic — he now keeps an extra toothbrush for you, your notebooks are on his coffee table, and some of your clothes are scattered around his apartment. It is undeniable that you are falling deeper and deeper in love.

On a Sunday afternoon, you are studying on his couch while Jay is in his home office, working on a complicated case that demands his full attention. After hours buried in books and notes, concentrating is almost impossible. At this point, your mind keeps wandering to him without permission. When your brain finally gives up, you close the book with a dramatic sigh.

You walk down the hallway and peek into his office. Jay is sitting at his desk with his sleeves rolled up, looking unfairly attractive as he concentrates on reviewing some papers. "Jay?" you call, walking in without waiting for an answer.

He looks up, and the moment his eyes meet yours, the tension in his shoulders softens. "Hey, princess. How are the studies going?"

Boring." You take a few steps closer and don’t ask for permission — you simply climb into his lap, settling on his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a trail of kisses along his jaw, then his cheek and lips. "I missed you. Pay attention to me? Just for a little while?"

One of his hands rests on your waist while the other continues organizing the documents. "I’d love to, baby, but this case is a nightmare. There are documents everywhere. I’m going crazy with these."

You nuzzle into the curve of his neck and kiss him there. "You’ve been in here for hours… you deserve a break." Your hips move subtly against him, restless, the friction sending a spark through both of you. You feel him twitch beneath you, already starting to respond to your movements.

Jay’s grip on your waist tightens. "Princess…" There is a warning tone in his voice, bordering on frustration. But as you grind against him, you can feel him beginning to harden, and that gives you hope — you think he might give in.

"You’re really testing me today." He pulls you into a kiss, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. When he pulls away, it is with a frustrated sigh.

"That's the point," you whisper, smiling proudly against his lips as you continue grinding, slower this time, feeling him get even harder.

Jay curses under his breath, gripping your hips more firmly. No matter how hard he tries to hold back, he can’t, the desire is uncontrollable. He reaches between you and unzips his pants. "Fine, but you’re going to behave." He frees his hard, throbbing cock and pulls your panties and shorts to the side. This time there is nothing between you — no latex barrier, just him.

You sink down onto him slowly, and the new sensation hits you immediately — it’s different, hotter, more intimate. Every ridge and vein is raw against your walls, the skin-to-skin contact sends a shiver through your entire body and makes you moan as you settle fully onto him. The stretch feels deeper and more overwhelming than ever.

For a moment, it feels perfect — connected, raw.

But then his hands close firmly on your hips, holding you completely still. "Don’t move," he commands, his voice noticeably deeper and rougher. "Stay just like this. No grinding, no whimpering. I’m serious."

His cock pulses hot and heavy inside you, and you can barely focus on what he said. "Jay… oh my God, you feel—"

"I said don’t move," he interrupts, repeating it more harshly this time. His free hand returns to the stack of papers while the other arm stays wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place.

At first, you try to obey — resting your head on his shoulder and breathing deeply every time his cock twitches inside you, but the longer you sit there, the harder it becomes. You let out a soft moan as your hips twitch involuntarily. "Jay… please, just let me move a little bit."

"I told you not to move. Jesus, you’re really pushing it today." The irritation is clear in every word now, and his grip on your waist tightens even more. "I have a deadline. I can’t afford to get distracted like this."

Again, you try to stay still — you really do, until frustrated tears prick at your eyes — but your body betrays you with small, involuntary movements of your hips. "I’m sorry… I can’t help it. This is driving me crazy. I need you to move, please."

Jay’s jaw is tense and his breathing comes in heavy bursts — clearly fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You think I don’t want to? You’re so tight and wet around me right now, but I can’t. I have work to do and you’re not letting me focus." His tone grows even harsher. "Stop squirming. Be a good girl for me and just sit there.”

But you do not listen — you roll your hips again, letting out a moan as he rubs against that sensitive spot inside you. "Jesus Christ. I told you I have work and this is fucking important."

"But I missed you and this is torture. Please, please just fu-"

He cuts you off sharply. "You always miss me, always need something. Kisses, hugs, my cock, my fucking attention. You practically live here now, your things are all over my apartment, you sleep in my bed like it’s yours. Isn’t that enough attention? You know what? I need you to get off so I can actually finish this case."

The words hurt, making your chest tighten — tears of frustration turn into something heavier and spill down your cheeks. "I didn’t mean to be annoying… I just wanted to be close to you."

"Yeah, well, wanting to be close to me doesn’t magically make my deadline disappear. I’m already behind because of distractions like this." His hand on your hip tightens even more, holding you completely still, the pressure bordering on uncomfortable. "You have your own apartment right next door. Just give me a few hours alone, for once."

You stare at him in disbelief at what you just heard. Suddenly the intimate position feels humiliating — the way you are still stretched around him while he looks at you like you are nothing but am annoyance. "You want me to leave? Like this… right now"

"I’m telling you to give me some space." With no patience left, he lifts you off him, leaving you empty and trembling. "Go to your place, take a nap, study, whatever. Just let me work."

You stand there with shaky legs, wiping away your tears, feeling small, vulnerable, and unwanted. With a quiet, trembling breath, you whisper, "…Okay."

It's past 9 PM when Jay finally steps out of his office, having finished dealing with that pile of papers. The silence hangs heavy now, normally you would be humming, curled up on the couch waiting for him, or laughing at something silly on your phone. Without you, the space feels too empty. He had been rude — way too rude — and he sees that now. He owes you an apology, so he walks over to your door, but just as he is about to knock, he notices the door is not fully closed — it’s slightly ajar, allowing him to hear low murmurs of voices.

Frowning, he pushes the door open a little more and steps inside, finding a guy standing right at the entrance to your living room, putting on a jacket. The guy turns at the sound of the door, his expression quickly shifting to surprise. "Ah, hi. You must be Jay. She talks about you a lot."

He looks over the other guy’s shoulder toward the couch where you are sitting with your knees pulled up. The guy cleans his throat, sensing the tension between the two of you. "I was just leaving… It was really nice talking to you." He gives you a small wave. "Text me if you need anything else, okay?"

You smile and wave back. "Yeah. Thanks, Jake. Drive safe."

As Jake heads for the door, Jay blocks his path. "Wait. What exactly were you doing here?"

Jake blinks, surprised by the sudden question. "She seemed pretty down when we texted, so I decided to stop by and check if she was okay. Anyway, I’m heading out. Nice to meet you, man."

He steps aside, letting Jake pass. The door closes behind him, leaving just the two of you in the suddenly too-quiet apartment.

You stand up, hugging yourself. "Jay… what are you doing here?"

The regret he felt for being so harsh with you is quickly replaced by jealousy and irritation. "I came because my place was too quiet without you. I started thinking maybe I was too hard on you earlier, but clearly you didn’t waste any time finding company."

You frown, confused by what he means. "He’s just a friend. I told you about him before, we met during my first week on campus when I accidentally walked into the wrong lecture hall. I was upset after you basically kicked me out, so I texted him. We weren’t doing anything, just talking."

Jay lets out a short, bitter laugh and steps closer. "Talking late at night like it’s a casual visit. You mentioned him before, of course, but I didn’t know you two were close enough for house calls."

The hurt from earlier mixes with frustration now. "You were so rude, Jay. You made me feel like I was an annoying pest who can’t function without your attention. I understand you’re stressed with work, but you didn’t have to push me away and kick me out like that. I felt embarrassed."

He closes even more of the distance between you, standing close enough that you can feel the jealousy radiating off him. "You’re the one who can’t sit still for five minutes without demanding something, climbing into my lap while I’m trying to meet a deadline, whimpering and squirming like a spoiled brat because you ‘missed me’."

You take a step back, but the couch hits the back of your legs. "I just wanted to be close to you."

"But the world doesn’t revolve around your need for attention. I love having you around, but today? You made it impossible for me to concentrate, and the second I ask for a few hours to actually get things done, you run straight to this Jake guy?" Jay doesn’t care that nothing happened — the image of another guy in your space, late at night, while you were upset, makes his blood boil.

"I didn’t run to him! I was crying when he got here and he just listened. Unlike you, who basically told me to leave because I’m too much."

Jay’s laugh is harsh this time, completely humorless. "Too much. Yeah, that’s one way of saying you’re a spoiled brat who demands attention every second, and the moment things get difficult, you replace me with whoever is most convenient."

Neither of you speaks for a long moment. You look away, Jay’s jaw clenches, and soon his gaze drifts from your face to the way you are hugging yourself, then lower, lingering on your bare legs. The jealousy is still burning in his chest, mixed with the memory of you sitting on his cock earlier, demanding attention, all needy.

"Come here," he says, nodding toward the couch.

You hesitate, biting your lip, which makes Jay exhale sharply and close the distance. His hand wraps around your wrist, guiding you toward the couch. "We’re not done talking about this."

He sits on the couch and pulls you closer until you are lying across his lap, your stomach pressed against his thighs. Your shirt has ridden up naturally, but he is not satisfied. "This is in the way." His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them down and tossing them aside — leaving your ass completely bare for him.

Jay’s palm rests on one of your cheeks, squeezing the flesh possessively. "You’ve been pushing all day… needing attention, teasing me, and then Jake shows up at your place, and I’m supposed to just swallow that?" His fingers dig harder into the flesh. "You’re mine, and it’s time you learn what happens when you piss me off this much."

His hand makes slow circles over your skin, almost soothing. "How many spanks do you think you deserve for acting like this?"

Your heart races as you try to process his words — head turning slightly to look at him. "What? Are you serious?"

He meets your eyes with a firm, dark expression — one you have never seen from him before. "Very serious. You’ve been spoiled all day, teasing me on purpose. So tell me, how many do you think you deserve?"

You swallow hard, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I don’t know… Five? Maybe?"

Jay lets out a mocking laugh. "Five? That’s way too low, baby. You’re going to take twenty, and you’re going to count each one out loud. If you lose count or mess up, we start over. Understood?"

You hesitate but eventually whisper, "Yes… okay."

"Good girl." His hand lifts and the first spank comes without warning — firm and sharp, the sound echoing through the silence. You jolt, a surprised moan escaping you — heat spreads instantly across your bare skin, the sting stronger than you expected.

"One," you gasp.

He immediately rubs the spot in slow, soothing circles, calming the hot skin where he struck.

"Two," you say after the next spank lands on the other cheek.

Jay keeps a steady rhythm — delivering hard spanks followed by almost tender caresses. Then his fingers slide lower, tracing your wet folds, spreading them teasingly, brushing against your entrance, lightly circling your clit before pulling away.

"What a spoiled little brat," he murmurs during one of the pauses, rubbing your reddened cheeks while two fingers tease your slit again. "You’re already getting so wet… You like this, don’t you?"

You moan instead of answering, which earns you another sharp spank. "Five."

He continues, the spanks leaving marks and building heat across your ass. Now his fingers are dip inside you, moving with slow, shallow thrusts, curling just enough to brush that sensitive spot and make you clench around him desperately. But he always pulls back before you can get close to the edge.

"Six… seven… ah!"

By ten, tears prick your eyes, your thighs trembling as the sting turns into a pulsing heat.

Jay pauses longer this time, massaging your sore ass and spreading your cheeks so he can tease your entrance again. "You’re mine. When you need attention that badly, you come to me, even if I’m stressed, even if I tell you to leave." A finger pushes deep inside you, staying there while his thumb brushes your clit.

You lose track amid the overwhelming sensations and he makes you start over, just as he warned. "Back to one." During the restart, two more fingers slide inside you, moving in a torturous rhythm. "You feel how wet you are? This is what happens when you forget who you belong to."

"You’re mine. Your time, your attention, this body. I don’t share it." Spank. Soothe. Tease. "Say it."

"I’m yours," you moan.

"Louder." Another spank.

"I’m yours, Jay!"

When he finally reaches twenty, you are a trembling mess with tears streaming down your face. Jay finally pulls you up and turns you so you are sitting in his lap. His hands stay on your ass, carefully massaging the sore flesh and you press yourself against the hard bulge in his pants, burying your face in his shoulder. "You did so well, my good girl."

Jay lifts your chin, meeting your eyes. For a moment, he just looks at you — really looks at you — taking in your flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. Then he leans in and kisses you. One hand remains on your sore ass, squeezing gently, while the other slides into your hair. He kisses you like he needs to claim every part of you — hungry, insistent, his tongue tracing your lower lip before sliding inside. You melt into him, moaning against his mouth as you start slowly grinding your hips.

He pulls back just enough to trail his mouth along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive spot below your ear. "Still so needy… even after all that." Then he kisses you again, deeper and hungrier, tongues sliding together with fervor. The hand on your ass slips between your bodies to tease your wet folds with light circles and shallow dips — keeping you right on the edge.

When he pulls away, a thin string of saliva connects you for a second before breaking. "On your knees, princess."

Obediently, you slide off his lap and kneel between his spread thighs. Jay looks down at you, one hand lazily stroking your hair as he frees himself from his pants — his cock springs out, thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip.

"Open. Tongue out," he says, tapping your lower lip with two fingers. You open your mouth and obediently stick your tongue out. He leans forward and spits directly into your mouth. The warm, viscous saliva lands on your tongue, degrading in a way that makes you shiver. "Swallow that first," he instructs. You swallow while keeping your eyes locked on his. He nods with a satisfied hum. "Now show me how sorry you are for pushing me today."

You start with kisses along his length before dragging your tongue from base to tip. Jay groans, his fingers tightening in your hair, but he doesn't force you — not yet. His thickness stretches your lips as you finally take him into your mouth. He is big enough that you can only take about half before he hits the back of your throat. Your hand wraps around the base, stroking what does not fit in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck… that’s it," he murmurs, tilting his head back for a moment before his gaze returns to you. He doesn't want to miss a single second of this. "Look at me while you suck it."

You do, looking up at him with teary eyes, and the sight makes his cock twitch in your mouth. When you pull back to catch your breath, he slaps his cock against your tongue a few times, leaving strings of saliva connecting you, before guiding you back down. "Yeah, just like that… good girl."

Between bobs, when you pull back to breathe, you say breathlessly, "I’m sorry for distracting you and for Jake being here." Then he guides you down again.

Jay’s hips start moving, pushing a little deeper and testing your limits. Tears continue to prick your eyes from the stretch, but you keep going, hollowing your cheeks and moaning around him.

When he finally gets close, Jay’s grip tightens, his thighs tense, and his breathing becomes ragged. "I’m going to come. Don’t waste it, swallow everything." You nod around him, doubling your efforts and with a deep groan, he comes down your throat — thick, hot pulses that you swallow eagerly, not letting a single drop escape.

He pulls out slowly, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the tip before it breaks. "Open your mouth. Show me."

You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to prove you swallowed everything. “That’s my good girl.”

He helps you up, pulls you back into his lap, and kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue. Your hips start moving on their own, pressing against the growing hardness beneath you that makes Jay groan into your mouth, one hand sliding down to grab your bare ass and guide your movements.

"Still not satisfied? Such a greedy little thing." Even though he just came, his cock is already stirring again, hardening beneath you as your wet pussy slides along his length.

You gasp against his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders. "Jay… I need you so bad."

He answers by kissing you again, but soon pulls back to meet your eyes. "Then take what you want."

You don’t hesitate, not even for a second. Rising on shaky knees, you reach down and align the thick head of his cock against your entrance, and slowly you sink down, gasping at the stretch and every inch that fills you. The lack of a barrier makes him feel impossibly thicker than the last time in his office — hotter, more intimate. The spanked skin of your ass burns as you settle fully against his thighs.

"Fuck," Jay hisses, his head falling back against the couch for a moment as his hands grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you fully impaled on him. "So wet… so fucking tight like this."

You start moving, rolling your hips in a slow, deep rhythm, the angle letting you feel every ridge and vein raw inside you, pulling broken moans from your throat. One of his hands slips under your shirt to caress one tit while the other stays on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in time with your movements. The mix of pleasure and stinging burn makes everything more intense.

"That’s right," he growls, thrusting up to meet you. "This is what you wanted all day, isn’t it? My attention. My cock." You lean forward, kissing him messily while you bounce, moving your hips faster.

With a low curse, he wraps his arms around you and suddenly flips you, laying you down on the couch cushions, driving him even deeper which pulls a sharp cry from you.

Now he is on top, pinning you beneath him — one of your legs hooked over his shoulder as he starts thrusting into you with deep, powerful strokes — hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt each time and the lack of a condom lets you feel every raw inch.

Clinging to his back, your nails dig in as the pleasure borders on overwhelming. Jay’s face hovers above yours, his hair damp with sweat falling into his eyes. Rhythm falters for a second as he looks at you, something darker flashing across his face, the jealousy from earlier — the image of Jake leaving your apartment — has not disappeared. "Are you on the pill?"

You shake your head, breathless, barely able to form words between moans. "No, I’m not."

He thrusts harder, hitting deep against your cervix as if to emphasize the point. "Good," he growls, eyes locked on yours. "Actually, fucking perfect. Maybe I’ll knock you up tonight, put a baby in you so you won’t even think about another guy like Jake. You’ll stay right here with me, we’ll have a beautiful family, me, you, and our kids. No more distractions."

The words should have shocked you, but in the heat of the moment — with him fucking you raw, his body claiming yours completely — they only send a fresh wave of arousal through you. Moaning loudly, your legs tightening around his waist. "Jay… fuck—"

He groans at your reaction, his hips moving harder. "You like that idea, don’t you? My cum deep inside you, getting you pregnant so everyone knows you’re claimed." One of his hands slides down to press lightly against your stomach, as if he can already imagine it.

The couch creaks beneath you both, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet noises of him fucking you filling the room. Jay’s earlier irritation fuels every deep thrust, but so does possessiveness — the need to claim you completely after the stressful day. He presses you deeper into the cushions, his hips moving in a way that grinds against your clit with every stroke.

When you finally come, it is intense — your walls contracting tightly around his cock as you scream his name. Jay follows right after, burying himself as deep as possible, and you feel the hot pulses of his cum filling you, thick and warm.

For long minutes, Jay simply holds you — kissing your neck, your jaw, your swollen lips — his cock softening slowly inside you, but as the minutes stretch on, you feel him coming back to life, pulsing against your sensitive walls. "Already?" There is a playful tone in your voice.

"I can’t help it." He moves, pressing one last kiss to your mouth before slowly pulling out. You moan at the loss, feeling his cum start to leak out of you, but his hand quickly reaches down to push it back inside you with two fingers. "Don’t waste it."

He leans back on the couch, stroking himself until he is fully hard again. "Turn around. Hands on the backrest."

You obey, your body trembling as you shift position, kneeling on the cushions, gripping the top of the backrest and arching your back slightly while Jay moves behind you, his gaze fixed on the evidence of the earlier spanking — your cheeks still red with visible handprints — as one of his palms smooths reverently over the heated skin before squeezing firmly.

"Fuck, look at this… Still so red from your lesson." His cock brushes against your entrance before he thrusts deep inside you in one powerful stroke, the new position letting him sink even deeper as the head of his cock presses against spots that make your toes curl drawing a loud moan from you while you grip the backrest tighter as he bottoms out.

Jay starts fucking you with firm, powerful thrusts — deep and deliberate, the couch creaking beneath you both — as every thrust makes your sore ass bounce and the red marks darken even more with the impact, his eyes unable to leave them while his thumbs press into the soft flesh, pulling you back onto his cock repeatedly.

"These marks… they look so good on you." Without warning, he lands a hard, stinging spank on your right cheek, the already sensitive skin making you cry out and clench hard around his cock as Jay groans at the sensation, his hips stuttering for a moment before he resumes his deep rhythm.

He gives your left cheek another spank, making you writhe and moan again as you push back against him desperately despite the burn — or maybe because of it — the mix of pain and pleasure making you even wetter, the previous creampie turning everything obscenely wet and messy.

"That’s it," he praises, smoothing his hands over the fresh marks he just added. "Squirm for me. I love how sensitive you are right here." He gives you one more spank, lighter this time but still enough to make you shudder, and immediately soothes the area with his hands, massaging the sore flesh while he continues thrusting deep and hard from behind.

Jay leans over you, bracing one hand on the back of the couch beside yours while the other reaches down to rub tight circles on your clit. His chest presses against your back, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks between thrusts. "You’re going to take every drop again, princess. I’m going to give you my babies, keep you so full you won’t even think about anyone else."

When you come again — hard, your vision blurring from the overwhelming sensations — Jay follows right behind, burying himself deep with a groan and flooding you with another load of hot cum. He stays inside you for a long time afterward, thrusting slowly through the aftershocks.

Finally, he pulls out carefully and pulls you into his arms, stroking your back in slow, gentle movements. "You’re a mess, princess. Come on, let me take care of you."

He stands up with you in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. Once inside, he turns on the shower, adjusts the temperature, and removes the rest of both your clothes before guiding you under the hot spray with him where the water cascades over you both. Jay takes his body wash, lathers it between his hands, and runs them over your skin — being extra careful around your sensitive ass, massaging the foam in light circles that ease some of the sting.

"Maybe I was a little too rough tonight," he says, his hands moving along your thighs, cleaning away the evidence of the many rounds. "Work stress got to me, and then seeing Jake… I took it out on you more than I should have. You handled it really well, but I’m sorry if it was too much."

You lean back against his chest, letting the water rinse off the soap as you tilt your head to look at him. "It hurt… but it also felt good. In a weird way. I just hated feeling like I was bothering you earlier. I didn’t want to annoy you while you were working. I just… missed you a lot."

After rinsing you, he turns off the shower, wraps you in a towel first, then himself and dries you carefully, paying extra attention to your ass and rubbing some soothing lotion he finds in the cabinet. "There. Better?"

"Much better," you admit, reaching up to touch his face. "Thank you for taking care of me like this."

He leans down and kisses your forehead. "You make it easy to want to take care of you." Pulling you closer, his voice shifting to something even calmer and more sincere. "I don’t know what I’d do without you around. I can’t imagine coming home and not having you here like this. You just… fit. Right here with me."

You hug him tightly, burying your face in his chest. "I feel the same. I always want to be close to you because you make everything feel better."

Smiling against your hair, Jay guides you to the bed and pulls the covers back, lying down beside you to pull you close against his chest. One arm wraps around you securely, his hand rests gently on your ass — not squeezing, just warm and protective over the sensitive skin.

You snuggle even closer, your leg draped over his as exhaustion finally takes over completely. "Stay the night?" you ask sleepily.

"Wouldn’t dream of leaving," His fingers trace lazy circles on your back until your breathing evens out and you fall asleep.

Next morning you stir slowly, feeling the pleasant ache in your muscles and Jay’s heavy arm draped over your waist, his body curled protectively against your back. He feels you waking up and trails lazy kisses along your shoulder before moving up the side of your neck. "Good morning, baby," he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep as his hand slides to your stomach. "Sleep well?"

You turn in his arms, smiling despite the slight soreness when you move, and reach up to brush the messy hair from his forehead. "Yes… thanks to you."

He leans in and kisses you properly — slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that makes you melt. At this point, he couldn't care less that neither of you had brushed your teeth yet. "You were incredible last night. Let me make it up to you a little more with breakfast."

Jay borrows a pair of your sweatpants that look comically tight on his incredibly nice ass, making you laugh as he models them. In the kitchen, you work side by side like so many mornings before — he cracks eggs for scrambled eggs while you toast bread and slice fruit. Small touches are stolen throughout: a hand on your lower back as he reaches past you, a quick kiss on your temple when you hand him the salt shaker, a playful bump of his hip against yours.

"You’re in a good mood today," you tease, leaning against the counter while he plates the food.

"I can’t help it when I wake up next to you." He sets the plates on the table and pulls you in for another kiss before you both sit down.

After eating, you start getting ready for college and he for the office. Jay kisses you one more time before heading back to his apartment next door to get ready for work. You take a long shower and, once dressed in jeans and a comfortable blouse, you step out into the hallway at the same time he does, looking impeccable in his work clothes.

He quickly pulls you in for a proper goodbye, hands gently cradling your face as he kiss your forehead, lingering there for a long moment. "Have a good day at class. Text me when you’re done." With one last soft kiss on your lips, he pulls away with a smile. "See you later, princess."

College passes in a whirlwind of classes and notes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Jay — the way he holds you, the sweet words, the kisses. He has not sent many messages during the day, which is a little unusual, but you figure he must be busy at work.

When you finally get home in the early evening, you step into the elevator and press the button for the third floor. Just before the doors close, a woman you have never seen in the building before enters, but something about her face seems vaguely familiar.

The woman smiles politely as the elevator starts moving. Curiosity gets the better of you and before you can stop yourself, you ask, "Hi… do you live here? I’ve been in the building for about two months and I don’t think I’ve seen you around."

She nods, laughing lightly. "Yes, I do, but I’ve been away on a work trip. I’m a lawyer and a complicated case kept me out of town longer than expected. I actually got back this morning."

"Wow. That sounds intense… By the way, my name is y/n. Nice to meet you."

The woman’s smile widens. "Nice to meet you too. Jay has already told me about you. He’s mentioned his sweet neighbor a few times."

Your heart flutters with joy — Jay talked about you to the neighbors. It feels special, like proof that you are really becoming a bigger part of his life. "He did? That’s nice to hear."

The elevator dings on the third floor and you both step out together. A small flicker of confusion crosses your mind — she is going the same way — but you don’t think much of it. Maybe she lives farther down the hall.

Then you see Jay standing there and your face lights up immediately. He hadn't texted you all day, and seeing him now makes excitement bubble up inside you. You walk toward him with a radiant smile.

At the same moment, the woman also walks straight up to him. When she reaches him, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him — a deep, familiar, affectionate kiss. Jay’s hands settle on her waist automatically as he eagerly kisses her back.

The world stops.

Your feet freeze mid-step and everything inside you turns cold and numb. It takes a moment for your brain to process what you are seeing, but then the pieces fall into place with painful clarity. That was Jay’s wife. The woman in the Polaroid photo he casually said was his "sister." The late-night calls he claimed were from the office. The feminine body wash he said belonged to his mom. The distant restaurant he took you to on your first date, probably so no one nearby would recognize him. The way the doorman sometimes looked at you with that judgmental expression, like he knew something — he did. All the small inconsistencies you had ignored because you were so blinded by how gentle and attentive he seemed.

Every sweet word, every touch, every promise of "you’re mine" had been built on lies. He was married. His heart already belonged to someone else, and you had been nothing but a convenient distraction from the apartment next door — blind, eager, and so in love with the version of him he showed you that you never saw the truth.

Jay’s eyes meet yours over his wife’s shoulder, and for a fraction of a second, something like panic or guilt flashes across his face. The shock turns into pure pain, making you practically run to your door as you fumble for your keys while hot tears blur your vision.

You lean against the door, sliding down to the floor as sobs begin to escape you. Your chest hurts as if someone had ripped a hole in it. All the cute moments — the kisses, the touches, the date, the bouquet — turn ugly and humiliating in your memory.

You cry hard, knees pulled up to your chest, as disappointment turns into shame for having fallen so completely for the man who made you feel special, desired, and loved… and it was all a lie.

The thin walls allow you to hear muffled voices — his wife asking about his day, the normalcy of their conversation only making everything worse. You press your hands over your ears, trying to block out the sound, but the damage is already done. Your heart is shattered.

The man you had grown so attached to — the one who held you so tenderly after sex, who made you breakfast and promised more comfortable days like that — was someone else’s husband, and you had been the other woman without even knowing it.

thank you for reading.

[lisie-loves-u]

holy shit. i need another part to this ASAP. so fucking good

[lisie-loves-u]

lwk, you should do a fic abt jay making reader take it after a long argument or day of practice ✋😏✋

a/n: ugh kissing ur brain rn anonie... this is absolute cinema

18+, mdni obviously

warnings: smut, very little plot. short and not-so-sweet. penetration (p in v), meandom!jay (obviously), mentioned fingering, mentioned multiple orgasms (f. rec), rough sex, spitting, name calling (slut, whore, filthy, fuckslut, good girl), overstimulation (f. rec), assumed previously discussed safeword, mentions of safewording out (doesn't happen), mentioned future aftercare, mentioned comfort at the end. anything else i might have missed. not proofread.

--------------------------------------------------------------

you honestly don't even remember what the argument even started over. it could've been anything between jay's long hours at work without texting you not to wait up, or your habit of forgetting to tell him you're going out with friends, or even the toilet seat being left up.

but it doesn't matter now, because all you can focus on is his hips, slamming into the backs of your thighs, the grip his hands have on your tits as he uses them as leverage to rail into you, and how fucking good the violent pounding of his cock feels inside you.

"'such a messy fuckin' cunt. so bratty, just needs to be taught a lesson, hm?" he growls out, throat scratching from the yelling earlier in the night. he's been fucking into you for god knows how long, and fingerblasted you to orgasm twice before even taking his cock out. your tears have run dry now, and your voice is near gone. the only sounds escaping you are sharp but shaky little gasps. you hope he doesn't make you beg, because you don't think you could even if you wanted to.

"jay, p-please—oh fuck—'s too much, too much, too much—", you manage to croak out.

"shut the fuck up, and take what i fucking give you. i'll decide when it's enough." he knows that's not you tapping out for real, and you know you could if you wanted to. you both know you don't want to. he grips your jaw, prying your mouth open with his fingers, and he spits in your mouth.

"swallow it. c'mon, swallow it, i know you can. filthy little slut." he grins, wide and mean, as your eyes roll back, and your body starts to tense. this isn't your first time having sex with jay when he's pissed and mean, but you never quite get used to it.

"j-jay...—" you gasp out, dragging your nails down his shoulders, digging them into his biceps. you can feel it coming again, that tight thread in your core tightening. your body can't even process it, all you can feel is heat and pleasure, all over your body.

Jay chuckles darkly, and brings a hand down to rub circles and slap at your clit, not breaking pace for even a second. a drop of sweat beads on his forehead and drips down onto your chest, mixing with your own. he leans down to lick it up, and the gesture is so obscene it brings you even closer to the edge within seconds.

"y'gonna cum for me again, hm? gonna cum from your boyfriend making you take him 'til you can't anymore, you filthy little whore? you love it don't you, being my perfect little fuckslut. bet you pissed me off on purpose huh, just so you could get treated like this. go on then, slut. cum again. cum right fucking now."

and like he's got you trained on command—which honestly, he might as well—you shatter. you don't know if you've ever cum this hard. your vision whites out, and your jaw goes slack as you convulse underneath him. he doesn't stop pounding you through it, chasing his own high relentlessly.

"Mm—fuck, thats right baby—take it. taking it like my perfect little slut. you're so good, so good f'me. squeezin' around me—." his brow furrows, and you just lay there watching him with a dazed look as you come down from your peak. you can't feel anything below the waist, so you get to watch your sexy, angry, loving boyfriend use your spent body like a fleshlight. it's a sight you'll never get sick of.

"f-fuck—right there baby, i'm right there. i'm cumming, fuck. take it, take it, take it. take it all, good girl." He finally falters, thrusting once, twice, before emptying himself in you with a groan. he stills, and collapses on top of you, not pulling out yet, just letting your shared cum leak out around his softening cock.

you know in a few minutes, he'll pull himself out of you, and go start a bath for the both of you. he'll gently clean you both off, and you'll have a conversation about what caused the argument in the first place, and both of you will apologize, but for now, you just want to bask in the closeness.

a/n: hihiii i hope it's something like what you were picturing! i had a lot of fun writing it, so thank you for the request! ok, bye, i love you!

[lisie-loves-u]

just remembered i wrote this......

[eu4mi]

bro i fucking hate people sometimes 😭😭 this whole mark situation got me RAGING because why the fuck would he even wear that if hes going to back down saying that it was a VINTAGE shirt ???? vintage MY ASSSS 😭😭😭😭 that is a grown ass mannnnn like bro if you fucking support this shit then so fuckibg be it and have your own dumb as shit audience, next thing you know hes gonna be posted up with a maga hat and later saying that he just likes the color red ❌❌❌❌❌❌ got my european ass mad

no literally and i just know there’s still gonna be braindead people who support him

and its just insane that an asian man who has been in the kpop industry for well over a decade wears a confederate flag shirt when the confederate flag and its beliefs were against the civil rights movement

oh and guess who was involved in the civil rights movement !!! BLACK PEOPLE, LATINO PEOPLE, ASIAN PEOPLE, PEOPLE OF COLOR.

let’s have a WILD guess as to who these white supremacists targeted the most, black people

and and and kpop is quite literally based on black culture, it always has been

so you’re telling me a CANADIAN KOREAN 26 year old man who is a decade deep into the kpop industry, has no idea what the confederate flag is

it’s literally so fucking stupid

[gentleivory]

I Like a Look of Agony

Pairing(s): Byun Euijoo/Reader

Summary: Because I know it's true. Or, Euijoo meets you crying, a little drunk, and freshly broken up with and makes some interesting decisions.

Warning(s): Mandatory Implied/References to Suicide Ideation, Fake Dating, Implied/References to Cheating, I've dubbed this The BIPOC look of Confusion, oral (f & m receiving), edging, overstim, p in v (wrap it before you tap it folks!), creampie, breeding kink, idc idc idc euijoo is a FREAK, mating press | 19.5k

Note(s): there is...a lot of sex in this,

Fuma had disappeared somewhere in the club, Nico was on the dance floor, and K was…somewhere and the club was hot and stifling. It's not that Euijoo didn't enjoy going out and dancing, it was just…a lot all of a sudden. The sounds, the smells, all overwhelming him until he stumbles his way out to get some fresh air. He almost turns around when he hears the sound of a clang and some choice expletives in both Japanese and english.

"Stupid fucking piece of shit." You're full body sobbing, hands on knees as you heave and seem to try to get some air. "Can't believe he would do this shit to me. Moved back out to this stupid fucking country for him and—"

It's a stupid idea, but Euijoo has a hard time watching people have a bad day. He crouches slightly, holding a hand out to show he's harmless and you startle, looking at him. He knows he is not, by any means, a short guy. Though he's not particularly broad, he's doing all he can not to stand in a way that would scare you off. "Is everything okay?" You breathe out puffs of air in heavy heaves before you quite literally crumple in front of him, sobbing.

"No," you wail, covering your face. Your eyeliner is not water proof, he can tell, because it's streaking down your cheeks and he drops a bit lower to press a hand to your shoulder. "My stupid fucking boyfriend broke up with me and then invited me to his wedding all in the same spiel. And I can't tell my cousins because they all have the perfect life. And now I'm crying in the back of the club because I'm gonna die alone."

Euijoo could understand maybe every third word that came out of your mouth when you devolved into sobbing english. It's not like he didn't understand it, Nicholas and Maki spoke it enough around him that he could understand what people were saying. But between you sobbing and covering your face, he was kind of in the dark.

"Eh…" he sucks in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I can't really understand you."

It only causes you to cry harder and he feels horrible for it, pulling you into his chest as you repeat yourself, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. "And now I'm in this stupid fucking country, at a job I hate for a guy who was cheating on me. And I can't even say he was cheating on me because apparently this whole time he's had a fiance. So he was cheating with me and then had the audacity to break it off and invite me to the wedding."

Euijoo gently buries his finger in your braids, damn there placing you on his lap. "That's fucked."

"That was mean, I don't think Japan is stupid. I love japan," you hiccup, nuzzling into his chest, "my grandparents are from Japan. I love Japan. Oh god." You rip yourself away from him. "I'm gonna be sick."

And this isn't where Euijoo thought his night would be: holding a drunk and grieving girls hair as she vomits off to the side. But, out of all the things he could be doing he doesn't hate it, oddly enough. The situation is gross but thankfully your vomit just smells like slightly more acidic alcohol, and you fumble with your purse, pulling out a small container of mouthwash.

"That was gross," you mumble after gargling, looking up at him with big brown eyes and full lips curled into a soft pout. "Sorry."

"No." Euijoo shakes his head. "No, it's okay. I'd rather have found you than someone else." He hesitates. "Are you…do you need help getting home?" When you shake your head, he's only slightly disappointed and you pat his chest, a little gently, a little cutely, the corners of your lips lifting slightly into a soft smile. "At least let me know you got there safe?"

"You're sweet," your say softly, tucking a braid behind your ear before gesturing for his phone, telling Euijoo your name. You type your number in, texting yourself nice guy from the bar.

"EJ."

"Cute."

You do text him when you get home. A picture of your bed before you probably pass out and he's relieved. You seemed like a nice person, and maybe he's thinking too hard about it that night. The way you looked while you cried. No one is truly that cute when they're sobbing but you're too pretty to not notice it and then he remembers what made you cry and it's another stupid idea.

It's dumb as shit.

Truly he knows, when it takes hold, you're probably going to tell him it's stupid. Who wants to go to their cheating exes wedding? He wouldn't. But…well, it won't leave him. This idea to show up to your piece of shit exes wedding with him, and make the man think you'd been with Euijoo this whole time. That you could one-up this guy because Euijoo knows men like that. They like to humiliate women. They cheat on or cheat with and then invite you to these places to show that they hold all the pieces. And sometimes women feel so downtrodden that they keep going back and he may not know you, but you don't deserve that.

You didn't deserve to be crying in the alleyway of a club without being able to tell your family what happened. You didn't deserve to feel that horrible. And also, Euijoo hates men like that. You deserve to, at least, get the last laugh when it came to your ex.

He also just might be projecting his personal feelings about situations like this, but he stands by it. So when he wakes up the next day he sends you a i think you should go

?

to the wedding

that's insane who is this?

He should've seen that one coming. You were very drunk last night. And crying.

EJ

From the bar?

From the bar

I gave you my number? Oh that is… SO embarrassing Thank you for holding my hair back when i threw up

don't worry about it Can I call…?

Probably should come over since we're saying and doing insane shit location pin

"You want me to go to my shithead exes wedding?" you ask flatly. You're even prettier when you're not crying. You let him into your apartment with little fanfare, and he steps over a suitcase to settle in and it takes a second for him to focus on your question.

"Just hear me out."

"It's a batshit insane idea, Ej," you say, bending over to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge sitting by your counter. Your pajamas are…distracting. Euijoo is a gentleman through and through, and it takes all his self control to avert his eyes from the way your shorts cut off a little higher than normal. It's not your fault, probably all genetics, the way you ass strains against the fabric and he clears his throat.

"I know. I know." His voice goes up just an octave, cheeks reddening as he fully turns around as if not to be tempted. "But what he did was wrong. And I dunno…I think you deserve your revenge."

"You don't even know me." Your eyebrow lifts in amusement. "We met last night."

"I know." Euijoo smiles awkwardly when you stand in front of him, hands on hips. You're so pretty it's distracting and the way you fill out your pajamas is harrowing. You're all soft skin and pretty doe eyes and lips that are in a perpetual pout and his vision blacks out for a second with an image he has to shake away. "But still."

Your head tilts to the side, squinting as you take him in. Under your gaze he feels like he's being analyzed. He finds himself straightening up to his full height, clasping his hand behind his back. Whatever you see relaxes you, and you cock your hip to the side. "You always this nice to people you first meet?"

"I've been told I'm a very kind person," he says with a shrug. Euijoo isn't sure how accurate that is. The reality is, he just hates seeing people be mistreated, and all he's ever wanted to do is be the gentleness in the world he's wanted to see. If that makes him kind, so be it.

"Why?"

How does he explain it to you? How does he put into words the feeling in his chest seeing you sobbing inconsolably in a back alley with your family somewhere in the club having fun? How to describe the thought that the only reason you should be crying is from happiness and pleasure? He can't, so he doesn't.

"Because you didn't deserve that," he says softly, "nobody does. People like that like to keep you on a leash so that you're always an option and that's not fair." Euijoo rocks on his heels, shoving his bangs out of his face for a moment while he thinks: You're too pretty to cry over things like that. "And you deserve to get the last laugh."

There's a flash of ivory, your bottom lip tucked between teeth before you nod. "Okay." He feels the pressure of your finger pressed against his clothed chest. You are so pretty, he thinks again, heart beating through his skin. He's sure you can probably see his heart palpitations through bone and flesh. "This is insane, but okay." You smooth the wrinkle in his shirt and he smiles, head ducking into his shoulder. "So what's the plan?"

Euijoo hadn't gotten that far. lips flattening out in thought. "When's the wedding?"

"Two months."

He nods with a soft hum. "Get coffee with me?"

The line of your neck tempts him, your head thrown back with your laughter. "You're an odd man, EJ."

"It's Euijoo," he says cheerily, "Byun Euijoo. But all of my friends call me Juju or EJ."

Big eyes crinkle at the corners with your smile and you look away. "Well if we're dating now," you say, taking a step closer to him, your body heat wafting off you the closer you get, "you should know I always call my significant others by their actual name." He feels the softness of your hand as you press your thumb against his knuckles, telling him your full name. "But please, just call me Starlight. Everyone does."

Euijoo flips your hands around to press his pointer into the center of your palm, gently tracing a line against the skin. When you shiver, Euijoo smothers a smirk with a soft breath before looking at you. Pretty. "I think I'd prefer to call you Darling or Baby. That okay?"

Your throat bobs with a hard swallow. "Y-yeah, that sounds okay. Good. Great, even." You turn swiftly on the balls of your feet, the tips of your ears flushing. "I'm gonna get dressed. You should sit. Relax. Uh." You don't finish the sentence, escaping into your room.

Your apartment is cute. Cozy. All the things you have decorating your space are some variation of a jewel tone. The space is decorated with a dark brown couch, an emerald green chair, deep red drapes, candelabra's of various sizes decorating the coffee tables among other things. There are dishes in the sink, almost like you didn't get a chance to do them the day before and Euijoo finds himself tidying up the small mess (from the night before he's sure). The sound of rustling alerts him to your presence as he finishes the rest of the dishes.

"You didn't have to do that."

He doesn't mind, not even in the slightest, shrugging while drying the last plate. "I don't mind," he murmurs.

Euijoo could practically feel your eyes on him, trailing down the length of him. From his peripheral, he sees the way you hold yourself, a little shy, a little anxious but your facial expression is awed, like you can't quite believe someone like him exists, and he feels himself preen under the emotion.

"Kind guy, indeed," you say softly, grabbing the hand towel to wrap around his hands. He could take it from you, but you're so focused on patting his hands dry he lets you. Euijoo could see it now, how hard you love, giving bits of yourself to the person you've chosen. Loving them with every action you take, every glance you bless them with. It must be hard for most people to get under your skin, and burrow their way into your bloodstream. But once someone is there, he sees, that's it.

"Thank you."

Brown eyes peak at him from long lashes, pupils suddenly dilating in real time when you two make eye contact. Just as quickly as your eyes meet, you avert your gaze back to his hands. "Don't mention it." The towel makes a fwap sound as you air it out and put it back in its place. "C'mon. I know a really good coffee shop."

—

"You're kidding."

The way you laugh is soft and sweet. You hide it behind a hand and a ducked head, a stars light hidden behind a cloud. "No, I'm serious. If we're going to do this, we might as well go for it, y'know? I—" you sigh, rolling your eyes— "I like physical touch. A lot—Oh shit."

"What?" Euijoo looks around, eyes darting back and forth through the cafe to see what has you losing color and turning around.

"Oh god, I forgot Takeshi comes here to." You pause. "The ex. He's coming over here, fuck." He spots the man a second later. Dark hair, decent height, wide and the kind of handsome that left a bad taste in Euijoo's mouth. The kind of handsome that reeks of never having to try hard for things and it irritates him immediately.

Lips twist to the side in thought, his hand circling your waist as he dips down. "Do you trust me?"

"Well, I met you last night, so—" you look at him from the corner of your eye— "sure."

"Good." When Euijoo kisses you it feels like a supernova or the inevitable clashing of star dust and a nuclear fusion birthing a new star. Your lips taste like artificial strawberry, and it's completely addicting as he pulls you in closer. Your back arches, your hands bunch his shirt wrinkling it and someone clears their throat. Doe eyes look up at Euijoo damn there with sparkles in them, lips just slightly puffy from the kiss. It was no makeout session, more similar to an absent minded kiss of affection, but clearly its enough to piss the man in front of them off.

"Takeshi." Your voice hits a nervous pitch, fingers tucking a braid behind your ear. "Hey."

"Hi." The man's voice is flat, unimpressed, sizing up Euijoo from his feet to the tip of his head. Euijoo is not vain by any means, but he's also not a liar. One can only get called attractive so many times before they learn to accept it as a fact, and Euijoo has accepted that he is very attractive to many people. Up close, Takeshi is tall, but not taller than him. He clears your ex with many inches to spare, and he can tell even Harua is a bit taller than him. You're not tall by any stretch of the imagination, you're not so short that the height difference between you and Euijoo would be too awkward, but the height difference between you and Takeshi seems comfortable. Maybe that's what attracted you to the man at first. In order to talk to Euijoo you have to crane your neck just a bit further than what would be strictly comfortable, but not entirely unwanted.

Takeshi dips his head, brown eyes still on you as he greets Euijoo. It's clear to him the other man does this as a means of disrespect with plausible deniability. It's just respectful enough that if he got angry it would seem odd. Someone like Nico would have corrected him with a sharp gaze and a sly tongue, and Euijoo wishes he was similar to his friend in this way. But he's not, so instead he smiles and bows back. Neither men offer their name, both looking at you just as you tuck under the taller of the two as if to shield you from the awkwardness of this situation.

"Oh!" You clear your throat. "Takeshi, this is Euijoo, my boyfriend. Euijoo this is Takeshi."

Takeshi raises an eyebrow just as Euijoo goes, "Oh, this is Takeshi. I've heard a bit about you."

"You have?" I've heard nothing about you, goes unsaid and he watches as Takeshi's fingers twitch as if to grab hold of you just as Euijoo delicately twirls your braids around his finger as he hums. "I'm surprised you have a boyfriend." It's a challenge if he's ever seen one. "When did you start dating?"

Euijoo doesn't recognize this feeling in him, ugly and venomous. His smile is…sharp and possessive as he says, "A year and a half ago. Though, I'm not surprised you haven't heard of me. My baby can be pretty private." A pause and he can see the way the man is seething and how your eyes widen. "Isn't she?"

Takeshi lets out a harsh breath, his smile going strained and brittle. "Yeah." When your ex looks at you, you've fixed your face, looking up at Euijoo. "Yeah she is."

"Can't be any worse than not telling anyone that you're getting married," you say, and you do such a good job at keeping any bitterness out of the words, Euijoo can't help but to squeeze your side in acknowledgment. Even if Takeshi wanted to, he would not be able to read into your words with how light and unbothered they sounded. "Well, I'll see you at work, Takeshi. And give your fiance our best." The way you turn to head to the counter is so final, Euijoo presses his lips together to smother an amused smile.

He's not sure if you know this but he's never seen someone's kindness be so sharp and cutting before. You might not think it, but you are the kindest person he has ever met.

So, can you come with me to a wedding?

? I thought I was already coming to a wedding?

Yeah so! Haha, funny story I forgot that my coworker/friend is having a wedding In 2 weeks That I never RSVP'ed for But now she knows we're dating So…

2 weeks? I should be free. Let me confirm :)

You're nervous, Euijoo can tell. Your hand shakes just a bit as you try to smooth out the wrinkles of your dress, and you can't seem to take a deep enough breath to settle.

"Are you okay?" It's a dumb question, but it's the best one he can offer as he slides his fingers between yours to lift your hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine." A pause as his fingertip trail a line down the back of your hand before you let out another sharp breath. "I'm so fucking nervous, Euijoo."

You look at him, a flush of nerves coloring the tips of your ears, full lips pressed into a straight line with big eyes that beg for stability, and he smiles gently.

"Don't be." Your eyebrow twitches and he laughs. "I'm serious. You trust me right?" You probably shouldn't, he knows, but he hopes you do. Euijoo likes to think he's a pretty trustworthy guy, and he would never want you to feel unsafe around him. But three weeks of off and on communication does not make trust, and he knows this. He watches you, waiting for whatever you seem to be searching for, and sees the way the nerves leave your tight shoulders.

"Yeah." Your head tilts and you smile at him soft, and sweet, and Euijoo reaches up to cup your cheek. He's not sure if you even recognize you do it, but you nuzzle into his palm, a delicate sigh filling the air before you straight up. "Okay, let's go before I change my mind."

The wedding is extravagant. Your leg never stops shaking throughout the entirety of the ceremony. The table shakes with it's bouncing and he reaches down, gripping your thigh between his fingers, and squeezing tightly. You settle, though it is not without a shiver and a sharp inhale from his touch.

Euijoo knows who he is. He knows what people see him as. He's kind, likeable, and soft. His members call him Ponyo, and he's well aware of the fans often calling him Sweet Juju. And he is all those things, he likes to believe, even if he's not too sure about the kindness people impress upon him. But there is something beneath it all, something he has had many years to settle with. Something that the few people he has slept with have had varying reactions to. Perverse, weird, intense were just some of the words that had been assigned to him. At first it had been hard. There had been a shame Euijoo had felt as he was learning himself and his sexual appetite.

The intensity could be too much, it had scared away one too many people over the years. Fencing had helped some of it, he likes to think, settled him and focused his intensity throughout middle school and long before he had a word for what was bubbling under his skin. But it had been many years since then. Enough years that he's learned to be okay with it, learned to accept this aspect of himself. His head tilts in thought, leaning down to nuzzle the side of your head, burying his nose into the curls there.

"You okay?"

You pull away just a bit, looking at him with eyes so wide they shone. He watches as your pupils dilate, engulfing the center.

"You've asked me that already," you huff.

"And I'm asking again," he murmurs, a rough squeeze to your thigh. Something harsh slithers to the surface, his disappointment at your petulance displayed simply through the way he holds you. Just as quickly, Euijoo glides his thumb soothingly across your leg. "So, are you okay?"

Your eyes dart to the side, and he makes a noise, a low hum of discontent when you stop looking at him. Like you can't help yourself, you drag your gaze back and he squeezes twice.

"Anxious," you mutter shyly, "that's all."

Euijoo tracks the people around you two in the venue. People are dancing, drinking, and all the ways of having fun. He can feel your exes gaze on you from somewhere, and he stands, grabbing your other hand and pressing a kiss against it.

"Let me help?"

"I—" you cut yourself off, the tips of your ears darkening with your anxiety— "how?"

Euijoo says nothing, parting through the crowd to find the door he had seen some odd hours ago when you had first entered the space.

"Euijoo?"

His gaze dart from side to side, pulling you through the open door and closing it behind him. "Do you trust me, Darling?"

He crowds you against the door, pressing his hand against your jaw when you look away to tilt your gaze back up. It's a darker repetition from before, an intensity that didn't exist when the two of you were planning on heading in. His pointer taps your cheek three times, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Darling?"

"I…" It seems you're tongue tied, his free hand bunching up the fabric of your dress. His fingers drag against the softness of your skin and Euijoo, in a gentleness that hides his intensity, shakes your head from side to side.

"I…?" He stops suddenly, the edge of your underwear stopping his movement for a moment. "Words."

His pointer tucks under the elastic of your underwear, pulling it away from your skin before letting it go so it snaps against your thigh.

"Y-yeah." You nod, "yeah, I trust you, Euijoo."

He grabs your hand, curling your fingers around your dress. He squeezes once, then twice, slipping to his knees. "How do you like it?"

"Huh?"

Euijoo peers up at you from his eyelashes, kissing your knee, then your thigh before lifting your leg and placing it over his shoulder. "How do you like getting fucked, darling?"

You smell good. Tangy and sweet and his mouth waters at the thought of tasting you. "I, uhm, I like it s-soft."

He hums to himself, cupping the back of your thighs to hold you up as he nuzzles into you. "Soft." The way he says the word has an almost has a musical note to it. Euijoo wants to taste you, kiss your lips, feel you dripping against his tongue, but he's patient (a saint really) and licks you through fabric. The fabric clings to you, the wet patch spreading as his nose nudges your clit.

His tongue presses against you, lips sealing around where you're hidden, and he hears the thump of your head hitting the door. Your free hand flies to cover your mouth, hiding the delicate moan you let out. Your hips twitch and he holds you tighter humming against you. Impatience takes hold of him, and Euijoo pulls away just long enough to slip your underwear to the side to slide his tongue across your slit. You're tangy, bursting on his taste buds as he drags it up to your clit. He hooks your underwear over his pointer, his tongue catching just under your nub.

Your moans are soft, muffled by your hand, and he wishes he could hear you. It's okay, though, there's a better time and place to fuck you and listen to you moan. He traces the edges of your slit and your knee buckles, your hand suddenly digging into his hair.

"N-no," you groan, and his eyes fly to yours. You can barely keep them open, fingers shaking with the effort it takes to talk and feel good at the same time. "No, uhm, I'm s-sorry. I, hngh, can't have—" You're so shy and cute, Euijoo's head tilts to the side even as he retreats to suck your clit into his mouth. No penetration, he thinks to himself, adjusting accordingly, because above wanting to taste you, feel you, and make you feel good, he also wants you to know you're safe in his hands as he does so. "H-hurts sometimes."

His hum has you twitching, your fingers tightening in his hair. You're so sensitive, getting wetter by the minute with each movement of his tongue. Euijoo learns you with each motion. The flat of his tongue does nothing but give you a well needed break from being overwhelmed. But when he flicks the tip of his tongue against the underside of your clit, scooping it into his mouth and sucking your body tenses, legs shaking, and back arching with pleasure.

He's steady in his movement, keeping a gentle but firm pace, and he can tell you're getting closer and closer by the way your stomach clenches and your fingers tighten. You're starting to babble, your leg tightens where it's tossed over his shoulder, body curling into itself. "Euijoo, Euijoo, Euijoo," you chant, fingers spasming around the fabric of your dress, "I think I'm going to cum?"

You're cute, he thinks, watching the way your nose scrunches with each stroke. You're questioning the feeling you have in your bones, bubbling in the pit of your stomach as it tenses. "Fuck, fuck—hah." Your knees buckle with your orgasm. He feels you pull his hair, a slight twinge of discomfort that he relishes in as he helps you ride through the wave of pleasure. Your breath is labored, eyes squeezed shut when he flattens his tongue against your clit in a soothing motion. He slides it across your slit, your sweetness coating his tongue while he cleans you up. Your hips twitch away from his mouth, and he pulls away, pressing a kiss against your thigh.

It's quiet for a moment while he unhooks your underwear from his finger so it covers you once more. Euijoo presses a kiss against you through the fabric, taking a deep breath of your smell before gently unfurling your fingers from where they were wrapped around your dress to keep it up so it could fall easily. He smooths the wrinkles from the fabric, and then stands. You haven't let go of his hair, though your grip had loosened significantly since your orgasm, and he cups your cheeks, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and then your lips. Gentle, as always, his thumb pressing against the underside of your chin so your head tips back.

"You, you…" you've barely gotten your bearings, trying to form words with the aftershocks of pleasure still racing through your veins. He kisses you again, a gentle brush before tilting your head to the side and pressing his lips to your jawline.

"I…?"

He's waiting. Euijoo is patient, he can wait all night for you to form words, but he hopes whatever sentence you're trying to put together is kind. Instead, your hand slips out of his hair and rests against his neck, fingers shaking with effort. "T-Thank you."

His laugh is relieved, forehead resting against your collarbone as his shoulders shake. "No need to thank me," he says softly, pulling back to look at you. Your eyes meet his, a little glazed but otherwise present, and Euijoo can't help but kiss you again. The thing inside of him is satiated for the time being, the hungry waters calm for the first time in a few months. "I wanted to help."

You're shy, he can tell, but you scoff, lightly shoving his face away from yours. "You always this hands on when you're helping?"

He hums, watching while you attempt to fix your hair. When you're finished, he grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles, and opening the door. "No," he says with a smile, "I just couldn't help myself. You looked like you needed it." A pause. "And I enjoyed it."

And it's clear he did help. Your shoulders are looser, tension having disappeared from the way you hold yourself. He thinks your ex could walk up on you right now and you wouldn't even care. Still, your ears color, and you hide your face in his shoulder as you mutter: "Shut up."

Why didn't you tell me you were an idol??

Wasn't that important to be honest

Well my coworker said her daughter has a picture of you on her wall Seems pretty important to me

Ehhh I guess! Didn't seem super important to me is all Are we still on for that company dinner this weekend?

You are so aggravating! Yes. Thank you by the way

:) I'm going to be in practice tonight but let me know when you're going to sleep okay?

What if I don't want to?

Darling Be good for me

"Wait, where are you going?"

Euijoo barely spares Maki a glance while he ties his shoes, though he wonders how he should answer the question. He could just say out, but Maki would get nosy, and then he'd have to explain everything, and Euijoo just doesn't feel like explaining everything right now. His tongue glides against his teeth as he thinks to himself before shrugging. "Going on a date," he says, and Maki takes it easily enough.

"Everyone is too busy for me," the younger boy whines, tossing himself on Euijoo's bed in good humor.

"Fuma?"

"Sneaking around with his friends with benefits," Maki says easily, and he feels his eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Oh, Juju, you have no idea, do you? I'll tell you after your date."

"O-okay? What about Nico?"

"On a long distance date."

"Jo then?"

"On a date at the park. But he's too shy to call it a date."

"Is everyone dating someone right now?" Euijoo asks in bemusement.

"No, Harua, Yuma, Taki and I are still painfully single," Maki says, tossing Euijoo's pillow in the air. When he gestures for the youngest to go to any of those options, Maki pouts. "K hyung and Taki are doing a live right now." A slight pause as the boy curls his lips. "And we haven't hung out in a while."

If he wasn't running behind schedule, Euijoo would stay, but he can't. So all he can do is ruffle Maki's hair, tipping the slightly shorter boys head back. "I apologize. I've been so busy lately during our down time." His smile is bright and fond as he stands, and puts his jacket on. "I'll make sure we can hang out tomorrow, yeah?"

Maki blows out a raspberry, but agrees nonetheless, and Euijoo heads out.

He wants to text you that he's close, but you are so bad at responding that he knows you won't look at it until, maybe, tomorrow morning and apologize for the delay. Some days you respond faster than expected, but you had admitted to him, quite embarrassed when he called the other day, you have your phone on Do Not Disturb and you don't check your messages often enough.

("To be completely honest, I've been avoiding talking to my family and they love texting," you had said quietly in the night when he had called you after practice. "I feel so silly avoiding them so much. They're great, I swear. I just have never quite fit in and it's just awkward trying to connect with them when they all have these inside jokes that I don't quite understand.")

When you answer the door his heart stutters to a stop, and he feels his breath freeze. You're a vision in your dress. Your makeup is done, and you're hair is in a style he's never seen before but frames your face beautifully.

"You know you're early right?" The door closes behind him, and he leans against it. Euijoo can feel it, bubbling up from the center of his chest into his minds eye. The sudden hunger that slithers across his spine, blackens his vision is familiar. He's spent so much time having control, holding his wants tightly against his chest that it surprises him. It's more than a loss of control that begins to grip him, when he steps closer to you. "Euijoo?"

"Mhm." He nods, eyeing the way your dress brushes against your thighs. Hanging over a chair, he spies your coat, shoes, and stockings and makes a mental note to remind you to take a picture for later.

"Euijoo."

His hand wraps around the curve of your waist, his arm tucking under the bend of your knees to lift you. You make a little noise, arms wrapping around his shoulder. "Euijoo, what the fuck?" He deposits you on your couch, lifting your dress and practically ripping your underwear off, tossing them in the direction of your tights.

"You look pretty," he murmurs, tossing your legs over his shoulders.

"Euijoo—ah," you hiss when he licks a strip against your cunt. "Euijoo, we have to leave—"

"In an hour and thirty minutes," he says, flicking your clit with the tip of tongue, "we'll be fine." Euijoo kisses his way up your tummy, your legs slipping from his shoulders to his waist, before licking his fingers to press against your clit, and caging your head with his free arm. "At the wedding you said nothing inside, that it hurts?"

"I, ah, yeah." You nod, a soft moan as he lazily rubs against clit. Your hips twitch, thighs tensing as you grab at his wrist. Euijoo tilts his head to the side, a question in his gaze while he toys with you. "Uhm, hmm, I can't feel much d-digitally—ah." He tsks when your eyes close, and you force them open. "Uhm, it's k-kind of embarrassing."

He shakes his head, a soft coo in his voice as he slowly increases his pace. "No its not. I like knowing what makes you feel good." He stops suddenly when your eyes close again, waiting until they open to begin again. "Tell me."

"Oh my god." Your nails dig into his forearms, and you take a deep breath. "Uh, I j-just. This is good, great—fuck, fuck, Euijoo that feels so good." You gulp, trying to find the words, and he's amused by how difficult it seems for you to focus. "'M sensitive, s-so I don't n-need a lo—t. I don't need a lot. No, no, Euijoo, why?"

He stops again, just as you seem to get closer to your orgasm again. He waits for a few moments before starting up again. "But nothing digitally?"

You shake your head, legs shaking while he traps your clit between two fingers.

"Sex?"

"Mmm, need lube," you moan, "but I like it. F-feels good."

—

The two of you make it to the dinner with time to spare. Though, your legs were shaky after 40 minutes of being edged. You hadn't cum, much to your vocal dismay, but Euijoo knew you wanted nothing more than to be good for him. You hold on to him, pressing your forehead into his bicep in moments when want, and need makes you ache.

Your co-workers are nice, Hana, the one who had apparently been the one who told you he was an idol, greets you two in excitement.

"Well speak of the devil!" she tosses her arms around your shoulders, shaking you side to side before tipping her head to Euijoo. "Me and Takeshi were just talking about when you would get here!"

"Oh?"

"Well you know Takeshi," she says, waving a hand in the air, "you're his favorite coworker. Between me and you." Hana leans in conspiratorially. "Takeshi has had a crush on our girl here, and now he's mad she's not readily available. Crazy, considering he's getting married. But whatever."

"Does he?" Euijoo asks, rocking on his heels, and Hana laughs as you try to shush her.

"You should've seen him when she first started! He used to glare at all the male coworkers who would talk to her." She rolls her eyes. "I love him, but he's annoying as hell."

Euijoo looks down at you, watching the way your skin flushes with the gossip Hana gives him and he smiles brightly. "I'm not worried," he says, reaching up to lightly rub his thumb against your chin, "I'm surprisingly possessive."

He didn't think it was in him. Kind Juju. Gentle Juju. Ponyo Juju. Possessive Juju, who wants you to himself, who wants to be the only one who hears you moan as you cum, and watch as you curl upon yourself in pleasure. Euijoo is a simple man, he knows what he wants, he works to get what he wants, and sometimes he gets what he wants.

Sometimes he doesn't, and he has to be okay with that. But he's used to working hard, and he's willing to work hard for this. You press your shoulders together with his words, and Hana grins, elbowing you hard. "Possessive, huh?"

Euijoo smile grows larger when he sees your ex make his way towards you. His head dips slightly, and Takeshi is forced to offer him the same greeting as not to be disrespectful, and your ex looks at you. "Nice of you to join us."

You hum, leaning against Euijoo with a soft sigh. "You act like I'm late," you say with a laugh, "we're still early."

"Later than usual," Takeshi says, and Hana nudges him with an eye roll as if to say: See.

"That's my fault," Euijoo says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "we got a bit…sidetracked."

Takeshi's jaw clenches and Hana pulls you away from the two of them to save your spot near wherever it was she decided to sit. Euijoo does nothing for a moment, the two of them watching as Hana does so, but when you're far away enough Takeshi turns towards him.

"So, you said your name was Euijoo?"

He hums. "Most people call me EJ, though."

"Euijoo…that's Korean, right?"

"Yep."

"What's got you so far away from home?" Whatever Takeshi is trying to do is not working, and it's clear because Euijoo is not the type of man who takes this type of bait easily. He's not jealous or overly aggressive in any capacity. Instead, patience, his natural disposition made better by fencing is what people like Takeshi gets. Euijoo is slow to anger. So much so, it's damn there impossible to get him there. He can count on one hand how many times he's gotten angry enough to cause a scene, and Euijoo isn't the type to cause a scene to begin with.

He's not particularly talkative, and he's not extroverted. The irony of that is not lost on him, because he keeps attracting some of the most extroverted people out there. Except you.

You're certainly not as quiet as he can be, but you're not outgoing. You like to spend your time inside, and you keep to yourself. He likes the quiet way you hold yourself. He likes subconscious tactility that indicated your need for physical touch. And oh how he enjoys how much you needed to be touched.

He hates that he shared this with Takeshi. Takeshi who lied to you. Takeshi who didn't deserve your sweet moans, gentle touch, and dazed expression. Euijoo's lips press together, head rocking on his neck as he thinks.

"I'm a singer," he says, lips parting into, what he hopes is, a smile belying a gentleness that he does not feel in his bones. If the way Takeshi suddenly tenses is any indication, Euijoo probably did a shit job seeming friendly. It was odd, he'll admit. He's not a particularly angry person. He wears kindness on his skin as if he was born with it (and he was). But something about the man before him brings out a nastier side. A side Euijoo, seldom has to wrangle but, knew he hypothetically had.

"A singer?"

Euijoo hums, nodding slowly. "Mhm. We go back and forth to Korea every once and a while. I do, at least," he says, tipping his head so he can look at Takeshi from the corner of his eyes. A condescension eating his kind expression, and he watches your ex grit his teeth.

"Oh."

Yeah, Euijoo thinks, oh. She moved on. She found better. She found me. You're but a footnote in the grand scheme of her life. It eats away at you, doesn't it? That you don't have access to her anymore. That she's mine.

From your spot across the room, you look up, meeting his eyes with a small quirk of your lips. You don't tilt your head, you don't crook a finger, but he can read you. You want him over where you are. You want him right beside you. He pats Takeshi on the shoulder, sliding past him. "Excuse me," he says, barely hiding gleeful possession, "My baby is calling."

He saddles right next to you, tucking his hand against the small of your back, absently brushing his thumb across the fabric of your dress in a vain attempt to feel your skin. A shiver races up your spine as you tuck into him, and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. You raise up to press your lips to the shell of his ear, and he leans down so you don't have to strain too much.

"Fun conversation?"

A chuckle leaves him, and he pulls back to look at you, tipping his head with his shrug. "It was a conversation," he murmurs. His free hand cups your jaw, tilting your head to the side so he can spare you the embarrassment from his next words. "It's much more fun listening to you moan for me."

You go rim-rod straight, cheeks heating under the palm of his hand, though he can hardly see it under your complexion. "Euijoo."

"I'm just saying."

ej, please don't

don't what?

make it a big deal

okay i won't

ej ej oh my god

i don't know an ej So it's fine :)

Your 29th birthday is a small affair, Euijoo makes sure of it. He reserves the restaurant, sending your best friend the details, sends a small bouquet of lily's, and orders your lunch. You're not too keen on huge gestures, but Euijoo is aware of the way he would celebrate his significant other (intense, he thinks), and more than that, it was important that Takeshi didn't think he could somehow get under your skin with snide comments.

To say he didn't like your ex was an understatement. Euijoo didn't hate people very often, but he hated Takeshi, and for good reason. The more comfortable you get with him, the more you reveal of your previous relationship. Underhanded comments about you that presented themselves as reassurance, making you doubt your desirability. You would repeat his words with an air of casualty that belied the way your shoulders hunched closer to your ears, and he wasn't a particularly violent man, but for a moment Euijoo thought about finding where Takeshi lived and cold clocking him.

He didn't, obviously, but he fantasizes about it every once and a while. In any case, your birthday found it's way into his calender at the same time he was set to go to Korea, which was annoying.

Don't get him wrong, Ej loves being an idol. He loves his job, truly. But his job getting in the way of being with you? That was annoying. His phone vibrates, and he turns it over just to see that you've texted him. An image of you with Hana illuminated by the glow of candles on the cake he had ordered for you. You're smiling, your cheek resting in the palm of your hand. The atmosphere of the restaurant darkens your eyes, but it also creates a subtle sparkle that has him saving the image.

thank you image.png

no need to thank me

you say that a lot but im not going to listen so thank you <3

it's my job as your boyfriend to make sure your birthday is fun

fake boyfriend

the point remains

Euijoo turns his phone over in frustration. Fake boyfriend, he thinks, knee bouncing in annoyance, right. You weren't…wrong. You two had only been fake dating for a month or so, and after then what? What will he have to do or say to continue this farce? Could he even convince you to really date him? That was the most annoying part.

He wanted you in a way he's never wanted anything before, and he feels a little stupid. A month. A month, and that's all he needed to have fallen into a hole of want and need. He wants you so bad it lights him up from the inside. He wants the way you moan, the way your legs tremble under his fingers. He wants the way you laugh, the way you toss your head back, eyes crinkling on the side with your joy.

He wants you.

And he gets you sometimes. Through sex, through this pretend dating. But it wasn't enough. Hundred of miles away from you, he wants to be in your skin. He wants you walking by so he can grab your waist and pull you down. He wants to introduce you to his family, to his members, and enmesh your life with his. He wants to kiss you all the time, taste you whenever he can. I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you, he thinks just as his phone rings. 10 minutes before getting on stage, he answers anyways when he sees your name, rushing out the door to a quieter place.

"Euijoo!"

Your drunk, but your voice is like a breath of fresh air, and he breathes out your name.

"Hey, darling," he murmurs, toeing the tile underneath him. "Good birthday?"

"Oh the best—" he can hear the sound of your clothes rustling as you take them off— "thank you for not making it a huge thing."

"You asked me not to," he says, leaning against the wall, "why wouldn't I listen to you?"

"People don't, usually. Takeshi never listened to me," you say, and he can hear the pout in your words, "I don't think he was a good boyfriend. Oh! Thank you for the gift. It's so pretty, I'm half tempted to wear it right now."

Euijoo groans, covering his face in want. His pants tighten slightly, and you giggle. "Are you drunk, darling?"

You hum, your bed creaking under your weight. "L'il tipsy, but not drunk." A pause. "I like it when you call me that."

"Darling?"

The sound you make is erotic, and he would rub his eyes if he didn't have makeup on.

"Yeah," you whisper, shy suddenly. God you're so fucking cute. Just so delicate, and soft, and he wants to press you between his hands, mold you into a needy, whiny thing, and then put you back together again. His eyes catch on of his members from the door, tapping their wrist and Euijoo nods.

"I have to go—" you groan in protest and he laughs gently— "can you do me a favor?" When you voice your affirmation, his fist clenches in want. "Can you wear it for me?"

"Y-yeah." He can imagine you nodding, and he's almost taken out by the image of you wearing his gift. "Do you want pictures, too, Euijoo?" He swallows.

"Only if you want to."

A moment as you mull it over. "I do want to."

If he could, he'd fly back right now and fuck you. Instead, he has to perform with a half chub, and heat in his veins, with only the knowledge that when he gets back, there will be a picture of you in his phone, wearing the soft lilac set that he'd bought you. The same set you'd offhandedly mentioned, because you had a taste for cute girly things, and it's been a while since I've been able to wear something like it. Takeshi thought it was stupid, and I guess I started molding myself into a different person for him.

"Baby, I have to go."

"Mmm, good luck Euijoo. I know you guys are going to kill it." Now your words are only slightly slurred, and it takes almost all his strength to hang up. When he makes his way back to where his members were, him and Maki make eye contact, the younger man wiggling his eyebrows after a moment. His face flushes, and he tosses the phone into his bag.

Much later, when he's washed the sweat off his body, and changes into his sleeping clothes, he opens his phone. There you are, in all your glory on his screen. Sheer fabric, lace and frills draping over soft skin. You look like sin incarnate, and he shoves his fist into his mouth. He wants to spread your legs, slide his cock right between your thighs and fuck you in the baby-doll pajamas. He can see himself sliding the fragile fabric of your thong to the side to do so, cum deep inside so that it takes, and then you'd have no choice but to stay with him.

You're sat on the bend of your knees, the top sits delicately over your hips, covering where your thong presses against you.

you look pretty darling

he takes a moment, tapping his thumb against the side of his phone.

i miss you

i miss you, too is that weird to say? we've only known each other for a month

no no i don't think it's weird you're sweet i think about it all the time i think about how sweet you are and how you deserve to be treated gently

euijoo

im sorry you're just so pretty

you're really nice to me i don't think i deserve it half the time

that's not true you deserve all of that and more you're much sweeter than you give yourself credit for

pathetic you mean?

He thumbs the message down.

no, sweeter I didn't stutter

well…we're texting, so you can't stutter

… I come home in three days I'm gonna get you

wait no i was joking! EJ image.png

The image loads, the plush of your thighs hiding a pretty cunt, legs curled beside you. You've lifted your top slightly, and he can see the lilac string of your thong before it disappears betwixt the bend of your knees.

forgive me?

i was never mad to begin with you know, you don't have to send me photos like that if it makes you uncomfortable.

yeah i want to, i think i don't feel pressured to do it but i can stop…?

please don't as long as you're sure god, you're so pretty and sweet

shut up

—

The flight home fills him with jitters. Euijoo is restless, impatient because he wants to be with you right now. Fuma's hand settles on his knee, making his leg stop.

"What's gotten into you?"

He mulls it over, running his tongue across his teeth, unsure if he wants to talk about it. Euijoo is not particularly private, so he doesn't know why he's hesitating so much.

"I've been…seeing someone."

Fuma's eyebrows raise, and Euijoo waves a hand in front of him.

"Kind of. I'm kind of seeing someone," he says, "it's complicated."

"Do you like them?" Fuma says kindly. He's always kind, Euijoo can always depend on that. He depends on Fuma in many ways, not just as a co-leader, but as a person he can trust. "The person you're kind of seeing."

Quiet, again, as he thinks to himself.

"Yeah…yeah." He nods to himself. "It's only been a month, is that crazy?"

"It's not like you're saying you're in love with them," Fuma says with a shrug, "I'd be worried if you were saying that. But having feelings for someone?" He shakes his head, raking his fingers through his hair. "That's normal."

Whatever was holding himself back loosens with Fuma's words. A breath leaves him in relief, hand pressing against his chest.

"I've been sleeping with someone for exactly that long myself," Fuma says casually, knocking their shoulders together, "I think I like them, too. It's supposed to be casual but…" His friend shakes his head. "I don't think I can do casual, actually. I thought I could, but I'm enamored with them. That's not weird, right?" The look he gives Euijoo is sardonic.

"No," Euijoo says, looking out the window as the plane continues to pass over the ocean, "no, I don't think so. If you were saying you were in love with them then I'd be worried."

They share a laugh, settling into silence.

A long two hours later, Euijoo doesn't even remember landing, just that the next thing he knows he's knocking on your door with his duffel bag and his heart in his ass.

"One sec!" He can hear you stumbling to the door, and he has to cover his mouth to smother his laughter. He can bet money you're looking for a pair of pants, maybe even a shirt, so aware is he of the state of undress you like to be in when you're lounging in your apartment. When you open the door, it's in a state of slight disarray that tells him he was spot on in his assessment. It takes you a second to realize it's him and not some random person knocking on your door, your expression brightens immediately. "Euijoo, hi."

"Hi."

You move so he can make his way in, toeing his shoes off and dropping his bag to the floor. The fabric of your pajama pants sit tightly across your hips, and thighs and he straightens slowly.

"What are you doing here?" Your hands flutter in the air uselessly, like you want to touch him but can't. He wants to tell you that you are more than allowed to touch him. He wants you to stop holding yourself back, allow yourself the level of attention and care you wish to give. "Aren't you tired?"

"Mhm, very." He grabs your hand from the air, pressing his lips against your knuckles.

"Euijoo?"

"I missed you," he says softly, reaching out to tuck his hand against your neck.

"I missed you too."

He grins, dipping down to kiss you, sweet, gentle, and soft. Exactly how you deserve to be treated, to be touched, to be loved.

"Good." He scoops you up, and, instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist. You kiss him back, fingers in his hair. I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you.

"I really missed you, Euijoo," you whisper again, curling a loose strand of hair behind his ear as he walks to your bedroom.

"I really missed you, too, Darling."

you gotta stop buying me things

i like to you like pretty things i see a pretty thing i buy you the pretty thing

at least let me get you something please?

no :)

you are infuriating

This is his favorite part of the day when he's with you. Don't get him wrong, he enjoys the way you taste and sound when he's taking you apart. But this, your head in his lap as you absentmindedly scroll on you phone, is intoxicating. He worries sometimes, how fast everything seems to be moving, how comfortable the two of you have gotten with each other. How fast he has fallen into baser wants, and how easily you seemed to agree with it. But, as Fuma had said on the plane, it's not like he's professing his love, so it's fine. He twirls a lock of hair around his finger, the tv set to a low decibel as the two of you relax.

He watches you scroll past something idly, before you place your phone on your chest.

"You're quiet."

"I'm always quiet," he says in amusement, grabbing your phone off your chest and placing it on the coffee table beside your couch. "What are you thinking about?"

You're quiet for a moment, thinking about something that you clearly have trouble putting the words together. "I…like this," you say slowly, "I think."

"You think?"

You nod, pursing your lips petulantly. "Yeah, I think."

Euijoo shifts, covering your face with the palm of his hand and shaking your head. It's silly, and you giggle trying to push his hand off your face in futility. You grump and groan, but he knows if you wanted him to stop, you would tell him straight.

"You want to know what I think?" He slides his hand down, pressing his thumb against the plush of your lips. "I think that you know you like this. Isn't that right, Darling?"

"Euijoo!"

His thumb dips into the crevice of your mouth, petting your tongue gently, before locking your jaw between his fingers, shaking your head from side to side.

"You're always whining," he says jovially, "Always grumbling, making such cute noises all the time, you know that?" You'd cover your face if his hand wasn't holding your mouth ajar. "It's like you're begging for something to keep that pretty mouth occupied."

He watches the sudden onslaught of arousal takes you over. Your pupils blow out, taking over the color of your iris. You make a small sound, wanton and needy, and he slowly pulls his thumb out of your mouth to grip your jaw.

"Is that what you want?"

You scramble to your knees, a wanting in your gaze as you pull the zipper of his pants down. It's not rushed, but there's a frantic energy to your movements that Euijoo wishes to calm. His hand settles gently on yours, eyes wide and searching as whatever frenetic energy that is humming under your skin soothes. He watches intently, gently running his fingers over the skin of your forearm as you settle. You pluck at his pants with a pout, and he chuckles.

"Color?"

Your eyes roll up as you think, lips pursing before nodding. "Green," you say, waiting for him to move his hands, "very, very green."

My pretty, baby, he thinks, letting you pull him out. He rests his hand on your head, groaning softly as your breath hits his head. Plush lips press delicately against the tip, when you pull back, your lips glisten with precum, tongue darting out to lick them. Euijoo shudders, finger reflexively tightening when you wrap your hand around the base of his dick, leaning back in to press kisses down his shaft. You alternate between soft kisses and kitten licks, causing his hips to jerk.

"Are you teasing me?"

The look you give him is innocent, eyes darkened in lust, eyebrows lifted to give a doe eyed affect. If it wasn't for the way you were fighting a smile, he would've fallen for it.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You punctuate this by licking his from the base to tip, the heat of your mouth covering his head. He groans, his head falling back on the couch, as you lick his slit. His grip tightens again, this time harsher than before jerking your head back to pull you off.

"You're teasing me." This time it's not a question, and he licks his lip. His throat is dry, but it's there, the dark want of something rougher, something more intense. He wants to watch you swallow around the length of his cock. He wants to use your mouth, bury himself into the wet cavern until he cums down your throat. Euijoo pushes your hands out the way to grip the base of his dick, peering down at you with something harsh but gentle. "Open."

You do, and he taps his cock once, twice, three times against the flat of your tongue, as you brace against his thighs. It's gentle, though the two of you knew that whatever is about to happen will be far from gentle. He proves you right, sliding his dick against your tongues he pushes your head down. Euijoo expects resistance the lower your get, and no matter how rough he wants to be, he also doesn't want to push you too much. But then you look up at him just as he bottoms out, and swallow. He can feel your throat contracting around him, and he moans.

"Fuck." He needs a moment, breathing deeply. You swallow again, and he squeezes his eyes shut. "Fuck, baby. This is what you want?" You whine and he can feel it, pleasure causing his hips to buck and force him impossibly deeper. "So fucking, hah, perfect. My perfect girl."

He uses you then, the hand in your head steadying you as he fucks into your mouth. Your mouth is perfect, hot and wet, your tongue pressing against the underside of his cock with each thrust of his hips. Each time he pulls away you breathe in, each time he pushes back you breathe out, swallowing. "You just, mm, wanted s-something to fill your mouth, huh, darling? Need—fuck, fuck, your mouth feels so good."

He doesn't know how but you somehow swirl your tongue and he shoves your head down even further until your nose presses against the hair there and he hears, and feels, you choke. "Fuck, sorry, baby. Feels—god, keep fucking doing that." He can't even move, he wants to cum, and you're sucking him off so well he's almost frozen in pleasure. If his grip is uncomfortable, you don't do anything to indicate it, moaning around his cock that sends a zing up his spine.

"Jesus—hngh—gonna c-cum, baby." His body tightens as he does, toes curling as you swallow his orgasm down. You swallow twice, letting some cum spill over before slowly pulling off him. Euijoo collapses into your couch, bones liquid as his grip loosens. All he can hear is the sound of your combined panting, and he absentmindedly pets your head as you rest your cheek against his clothed thigh.

It's a full minute or two before he can speak, eyes struggling to open to look at you. When you both make eye contact, he feels a rush of affection, dragging his hand down to touch your cheek.

"C'mere." As you stand, he tucks himself back in his jeans, and then tucks you into his arms, your nose pressed against his neck.

"I take it a did a good job?"

He snorts, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Darling, I'm gonna be honest, I think you sucked the soul out of my dick." You giggle, nuzzling closer to him, and lacing your fingers together.

you want to come over? i've got your favorite snacks

uhhhh i wish my sister is having a crisis rn something about liking her situationship?

…. what's your sisters name again?

we all call her yana why?

baby you will never believe this

Euijoo has said this before, but he really does not like your ex. And, like, yeah, he's thought about it before, but he cannot stress enough how much he does not like that man. He hates the way Takeshi talks to you, talks about you, talks around you. He hates the way he thinks leans in when you're talking like he's free to do so, even when Euijoo is right next to you. He hates that Takeshi thinks he still has access to you.

Case and point: right now.

Euijoo thinks you're too nice. Which is saying something because people think he's too nice sometimes too. But you're letting this (piece of shit, waste of space, should've been a stain on a rag) guy talk to you and laugh with you. The only reason he knows you're uncomfortable is the way you've angled your body just slightly away from the man.

If anyone were ask him, he'd say that he thinks your ex is stalking you, trying to test the stability of your relationship. He keeps trying to poke and prod the foundations, looking for holes to slide himself in and get you again. But, regardless of how kind you are, you're giving him absolutely nothing.

You're sitting pretty in your sundress, and despite his ire at Takeshi having popped up on this outing, Euijoo relishes in any time he gets to spend with you. He's got another flight to Korea in the works to deal with, and he wants to spend as much time with you before he's gone. Following that, he's aware, is the wedding and it's all Euijoo can do not to stress over the fact that whatever happens after the wedding this facade he's grown to enjoy will be no more.

There will be no more excuses to come over, no more reasons to kiss you, touch you or fuck you. Not that the sex was the part he enjoyed the most. (He enjoyed everything that had to do with being in your presence.)

He slides in easily, placing his hand at the small of your back. You jump, startled for a second, twisting to see who touched you. When the two of you make eye contact, you relax, settling into the breadth of his chest. "Euijoo." Your tone has a musical note to it, and he watches as Takeshi tenses.

"Hey, Darling." He presses a kiss to your forehead, taking in the scent of you as he does so. "You didn't wait long, right?"

You hum, shrugging. "I dunno, five minutes is quite a long time to wait," you joke, smiling up at him, and he laughs.

"Oh, is it?" He presses his thumb into the softness of your waist, and you jolt away from him, giggling. "I apologize for having you wait for an eternity, then."

Your ex clears his throat, clearly unhappy with being blatantly ignored. Euijoo sighs, closing his eyes, before looking to his side.

"Takeshi." Nothing more nothing less.

"Euijoo."

Before Euijoo can correct him, you chime: "He really doesn't like when random people call him that. It's EJ." He watches as Takeshi's right eye twitches, and the man take a deep, deep breath. "I'll be right back, I think I see Hana and if I don't greet her she will have a conniption." You run off before he can say anything, but he gets the feeling it's because you know he can handle your ex in a way that you could not. Despite your heartbreak, there is a piece of you who still loves him, who still molds yourself after the way Takeshi likes you.

He watches the way you greet Hana, standing next to Takeshi for a moment despite the mans grumbling. "She really does run off before anyone can finish speaking to her," Takeshi grumbles, crossing his arms. He's prodding at something he hopes is a spot that he can bring back to you, to create wounds that no longer exist. Euijoo can see it now Even that boyfriend of yours doesn't like how you run off, he'd say, but I don't. Not anymore. I've missed it. I've missed you.

Euijoo has never truly felt a way about it because you don't run off with him, unless you're escaping Takeshi, so he shrugs. "I wouldn't know," he says jovially, "she doesn't run off often with me."

Your ex grinds his teeth, fist clenching where it sits tucked between his chest and forearm. He seems to mull something over, turning to look at Euijoo with something close to hate, but not vitriolic enough to be so.

"E…" Takeshi trails off, almost as if he was going to overstep but then corrects himself, "EJ, come on. You know how Starlight can be. She's always running off." The man waves a hand in the air. "Doesn't talk much. Though her voice is…pretty when she does." An innuendo if there was ever one. "I mean, everyone enjoys listening to her when she talks, of course." He's trying to cover it up and it irritates Euijoo to no end.

"She does have a certain air to her when she's speaking," Euijoo agrees, trying to keep his tone light. He doesn't, if the way Takeshi seems to hide a smug grin behind agreement. "She's cute, for sure. But I think I like her the most because of how kind she is. I've never met a person so giving before. Not the way she is." A pause. "I truly feel lucky." Euijoo goes to leave before turning around to look at Takeshi once more. "Thank you, by the way."

The man startles. "For?"

"For keeping her company for the last year and a half." He watches as your ex freezes, caught, and unsure because he wasn't expecting him to say that. "Did you think I didn't know?"

"I didn't…I mean, we had been seeing each other for over three years." Still in this moment Takeshi wants to have the upper hand.

"Oh, I'm aware. When we first started seeing each other she told me about you, and I can't say I cared much at the time, but—" Euijoo shrugs— "when we started to get serious she was going to end it. But at the time I was really busy. Not in the same way I'm busy now, of course, but my job took me back and forth from Korea to Japan more often than not, and you know how she is, my darling needs someone to come home to. She gets…lonely." Euijoo takes a step to Takeshi with a grin that's more akin to baring teeth than a smile. "So, I told her that she should keep seeing you. At least until I'm much more settled, and can be here more often." When Euijoo leans down, it's to demonstrate the sheer difference in the two men. A moment to show you could never be me, Takeshi. "So thank you, really. I would have worried otherwise. It really was the perfect timing when you ended it, she was really stressed trying to figure out how to tell you it was over. I can only hope your future wife is as aware as I was."

Euijoo doesn't give Takeshi a chance to talk, mouth agape as he walks away and tucks you just under his arm and greets Hana.

pretty

shut up

i'm being honest the dress is pretty, too

yk, this is what tf i be talking about you've got everyone fooled but i know the truth

i didn't realize it was a crime to compliment my girlfriend consider me reprimanded won't do it again, darling

i definitely didn't say that you are so aggravating

You're nervous again, fidgeting with the straps of your dress. You're so pretty, Euijoo knows he thinks about you like this often, but good god you're pretty. The cut of the dress sits on your hips, the way the fabric drapes pulls his eyes to the curve of your body, and the color brings out the depth of your skin. He finds you more than pretty, he finds you absolutely enticing, a greek goddess sitting with mere mortals who have forgotten who you were. He wants to drop to his knees and worship the alter between your thighs, showing you how loyal he truly is to you.

He watches as you tuck, untuck, and then tuck again a lock of hair behind your ear, like you can't figure out the best way to present yourself. He presses a kiss against your temple, as more and more people pour into the venue. "Are you okay?"

"I'm," you pause, trying to figure out where your feelings sit, "I don't know. I thought I would still be hurt, but I'm not? No, I'm not hurt, I'm not anything. Nothing, actually." When you look at him this time, it's softer than before, gentle in a way that he only catches glimpses of when you think he's not looking. He can faintly hear the sound of your phone vibrating in your purse, and he watches as you fumble for the zipper before unlocking your phone. Your head tips to the side, eyes narrowing before you scoff. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"What's wrong?"

He sees you hesitate, closing your eyes in annoyance and handing him the phone.

come see me i just want to talk to you i love you this is a mistake

Euijoo's vision blacks out for a second, completely missing you waving someone down. His grip tightens on the phone, dragging his gaze from the screen over to you, gesturing as, it looks like, the wedding planner looks at you, a bit scandalized, before pointing down the hallway. She says something to you and you roll your eyes, though he can tell its not in annoyance, but in something else, a mutual understanding as you lean in and say something in her ear. She pats your shoulder, and you smile at the woman brightly.

You gesture to Euijoo, holding your hand out before dragging him along.

"What, uh—"

"You asked me earlier how I felt," you mutter, pulling him through the crowd, down the hallway and to a door, "I'm angry. I'm angry and no one deserves to be married to a piece of shit who lies to them." You stop short, staring at the door, before looking at Euijoo again, and you look scared once more. You take a deep breath, pulling your phone out of his hand with a smile that read more as terrified than confident. He watches your fist hover over the door, and he can't help but press his hand to your lower back.

"You can do this." Whatever the this was. Though, he was sure he could take a guess by your expression. Your chest inflates with a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it go.

"Fuck this." When you knock on the door, it takes a second before the bride, pretty in a modern wedding dress, opens the door with wide eyes.

"C-can I help you?"

"Kasumi, right?" It takes her a second to nod, and you tuck some hair behind your ear. You say your name and Euijoo can see a type of vague recognition enter her eyes, like she knows of you, but not why. "We need to talk." She nods, and he squeezes you hand before letting you disappear into the room.

He's not sure how long he stands outside, but he hears a shout of Are you fucking serious? at some point, but it doesn't escalate from there, and you're not getting kicked out, so he can assume everything was going…well (?). When the door finally opens, the bride-to-be is seething in rage, and you shrug with a genuine clueless look of concern.

"I cannot believe that son of a bitch," Kasumi says, eye twitching and regardless of how badly Euijoo has wanted to cold clock Takeshi, he gets the feeling that his (most likely ex-bride-to-be) will be turning him every which way but lose. Her makeup is ruined, tear streaks, and mascara on her cheeks, but she sucks in a deep breath, holding your shoulder. "We should get drinks some time."

You blink once, twice, three times before nodding slowly. "Y-yeah. Yeah, if you'd like." Your voice is soft, and Kasumi looks at Euijoo, looks at you, looks at Euijoo again, and then looks back at you and points. When you nod, she marches up to the man.

"She is a treasure," she says fiercely—

"K-Kasumi!"

"—I know I've only known her for twenty minutes, but you better treat her well or I'll have my dad kill you." She says it so seriously, and so firmly Euijoo has to smother a laugh. "Now, I have to go and cancel this wedding, and maybe kick that piece of shits ass." And like a calm before the storm, Kasumi marches back into her dressing room and shuts the door.

It takes a minute, but you lean against him, sighing softly.

"So—" fingers press against your waist— "productive conversation?"

"Exhausting conversation," you correct, pulling your keys out of your purse, "Can we go home now? I think I want to sleep for 40 days and 40 nights."

He laughs, bending down to lift you up by the bend of your knees. Your little squeak is adorable as you scramble to hold on to his shoulders, and he carries you to the car. Now is the perfect time to say that Euijoo really regrets not having a license, because you look tired and he wishes he could just drive you home. But he can't, so the best he can do is settle you in the car.

When you back out, you look him dead in the eye and say: "It's insane that you don't know how to drive."

"Shut up." Euijoo can feel his cheeks heat, and you throw your head back and cackle. You don't laugh like this very often, though he knows 2 months, despite how natural everything feels, is not a lot of time to truly know someone. But, Euijoo truly thinks he knows you better than he's known anyone else, and he wants to keep getting to know you. He wants to know you down to your very core, which, he hopes he gets to continue to do so.

As soon as the two of you step in the door, you fall into each other. He lifts you, pressing you against the door, and your fingers slip into his hair, tugging gently.

"Bed?"

"Too far—" he peels you off the door and drops to the couch— "here." He unzips your dress, and you lift it over your head, tossing it somewhere. Your hips shift just as Euijoo cups your breast, leaning down to wrap his lips around your nipple. You press down harder, moaning as he nips at the bud, a broken little moan that has him pulling away to kiss you again. Your hands shake as you pull the zipper of his dress pants down, and he grabs your wrists with one hand, lifting you up so that you're hovering over him.

"Euijoo, please?" The way you sound slides heat down his spine and he lets go of your wrists to take his pants off, and slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

"You're so cute," he murmurs, watching you watch him. "So, so cute. My cute baby."

"You're so embarrassing," you grumble, and a breath leaves him in amusement. He pulls you in then, sitting you directly on top of him, trapping himself between the two of you. Without prompting, he pushes your hips back, then forth, the slide of you, hot, wet and wanting enough to have his grip tighten. Your hands scramble for his shoulders, looking for something to hold on to, and he laughs into a moan.

"Pretty thing," he says softly, pushing and pulling you against him. The sounds would be disgusting if he wasn't so turned on by the auditory proof of how much you want him, and his right hand trails from your hips, up, up, up, until he presses his thumb to your nipple.

You jerk in his hold, nails digging into the skin of his shoulder as you follow the rhythm Euijoo has set yourself. You're always so quiet, even when you're in the throes of passion, but the slightest hitch of your breath lets him know how good you feel. He can feel you getting wetter with each glide of your pussy against his cock.

"You're so perfect," he mumbles, mouth drying from the pleasure clouding his mind. You moan out something, but it's completely intelligible, your hips moving faster, resting your forehead against his. Eyelids flutter in the struggle of keeping them open, but you do such a good job, Euijoo coos, letting go of your nipple to fist your hair.

"Look at you," he groans, hot pleasure tugging common sense, "so pretty. So, so pretty. Fuck, keep doing that baby."

You nod, quickening your pace and Euijoo finds himself babbling things he's never once let out of the far recess of his mind. Sweet things at first—"Keep using me like that. So perfect f'me." Then darker wants, things he knows make no sense after only two months, not really, but things he knows he only wants with you, two months be fucking damned.

"Wish I could fuck you properly." Your breath hits his face in short pants the closer the two of you get to cumming. "Fuck, baby. Fuck, I don't want anyone but you." His eyes search yours, hazy in pleasure but cognizant in a way that he knows should scare you, but hopes it doesn't. "Wanna ruin you for other men, wanna cum so deep you're dripping with it."

Your punched out moan is needy, fingers spasming on his shoulder. "Is that what you want baby? You want me to cum inside of you? Want me to fuck a baby inside of you?"

He jerks your head back as your thrusts get sloppier the closer you get, he's holding off his own orgasm through sheer determination alone.

"Euijoo," you chant, your words slurring on the bottom half of his name turning it into an elongated moan. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum."

"Cum for me, baby—" he lifts his hips to meet you thrust for thrust until you tense in his hold— "there we—ah—there we go. Fuck." Cum splashes on his stomach in three long spurts that causes his toes to curl, and his grip in your hair to tighten.

For a moment, all the two of you can do is breathe, every breath that leaves you, he takes in, and every breath that leaves him, you inhale. Something settles in this moment, not necessarily a goodbye, but something he knows he will mourn for however long it takes before he can get over it (probably never, he knows). A revelation, an epiphany that can only exist when being with someone feels kismet and yet too early.

You peel your fingers from his shoulders, looking down with a scoff.

"So unfair." You swallow dryly, and Euijoo wants to grab you a glass of water, but he can't because he genuinely feels like he has no bones.

"What?"

"Your waist," you grumble, catching the cum lazily dripping down his skin with your pointer, "'S so tiny." You slip your finger into your mouth, and he feels his dick give a half hearted jump from it. He'd fuck you again if he could, but his recovery time isn't immediate, no matter how turned on he is. Euijoo squints, squeezing your waist.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious!" You snag your underwear from where they seemed to hang on the edge of the sofa to wipe his cum off his stomach. "You've got like the sluttiest waist I've ever seen on a man."

A bark of laughter escapes him slipping into a moan as you shift on top of him. He brings his hand down to hold you still, eyebrows furrowed when you giggle. His head tips to the side, dragging his gaze to meet yours. "Thank you," a pause, "I think?"

When you try to move again, he hisses out a sharp Stop and you do, though your look of amusement never fades. A breath leaves Euijoo in fond exasperation. "You can be a little bit of a brat."

"I've no idea what you're talking about." You curl into him. "You know how to speak in, like, 3 languages right?"

"Two. Japanese and Korean."

"Okay, so teach me something in Korean."

"Like what?"

"Like, uhm, how to greet someone."

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb against the small of your back as he does so. Your pronunciation is a little clumsy at first, but you get the hang of it, the smile on your face bright, even as you hide it in his shoulder.

"Okay, now tell me something in Korean. Anything you want."

He thinks for a moment, squinting at your ceiling before settling on something. He whispers it in your ear, feeling you shiver at his words.

"What's it mean?"

He hums softly. "It's a secret." I'm going to fall in love with you.

—

We need to talk

"Shit."

Maki turns to look at him, eyebrows raising in confusion. Euijoo runs his hand down his face as the younger man kicks at him.

"What's wrong?"

Euijoo's phone dangles in his hand, and he rolls his head over to Maki with a sigh.

"I'm getting broken up with," he grumbles, tossing the phone on the bed. Maybe if he ignores your text he can prolong it. Maybe he'll be able to find the words to convince you to let him stay for one more minute, one more day or month until eventually you give up. But that wouldn't be healthy, would it?

"Were you two even really together…?" Maki looks as confused as the situation is, and Euijoo lets out a tired laugh, rubbing his eyes.

"Uh, no technically?" Euijoo grimaces. "But also, yes technically."

"Wait." A pause. "Wait, I'm really confused."

Euijoo sighs, rolling so he's laying width wise on Maki's bed. "I was seeing someone to get back at her ex."

"Ah, she got him back?"

"Well, her ex also cheated on her, so that's kind of how it all began."

"So, no she didn't get back with him?" Maki's face twists into something even more confused. "I think I'm more confused than I was before. Start over."

"Uh, okay, uhm." Euijoo's face scrunches up trying to sum everything up. "Met a girl at the club."

"Right."

"She was crying."

"Right."

"Turns out she just got broken up with and found out her boyfriend was also using her to cheat on his fiance and invited her to the wedding."

"Holy shit," Maki says, and Euijoo points nodding.

"Right."

"Okay so I get the technically no part—" the younger of the two nods— "Technically yes?"

"She invited me to a wedding, then that time you caught me on the way out—"

"Oh, that date. That makes sense."

"—and we started, I mean, I." Euijoo clears his throat and Maki's amused expression stretches into a grin.

"Oh. Was this after the date?"

"At the wedding, actually." He flushes, avoiding Maki's gaze.

"At the wedding? Damn, Wiju, you move quick!"

"A-anyways." He claps his hands together. "We went to The Wedding a few weeks ago, so…"

"Oh," his voice turns understanding, "got it." The two of them are quiet for a moment as Maki tries to figure out what to say. Euijoo looks for his jacket in the mean time, movements slow because he wants to push it off for as long as possible. "I don't know them, but I'm sure she wouldn't sleep with you if she didn't like you at least a little?"

Euijoo shakes his head with a small chuckle. "The problem isn't that I don't think she likes me. I know she does. I just…don't want to give it up? I like her."

"God, you and Fuma are…hopeless," Maki says laughing, and Euijoo swats at him with a soft chortle.

"You know about Fuma?"

"I caught him the other day staring at his phone hoping his situationship would text him back," Maki says seriously, "I'm telling you, hopeless."

"You wanna know something that makes it even worse?" Euijoo ties his shoe, sending an omw text when he stands up, "The people we like are sisters."

He watches Maki fucking blue screen at his words, and his head tilts back as he laughs. Just as he closes the door, Maki shouts: Wait, what?

When he eventually makes his way to your place, he hesitates to knock on your door. Just get it over with. Just rip the band-aid off Euijoo, he thinks, it'll be fine. It'll be fine. Everything will be fi—

You open the door, eyes wide and out of breath. "Hi."

"H-hi."

You gesture for him to come in, and he tenses just as the welcoming familiarity of your apartment engulfs him. He's never going to have this again. Is it silly to think he will never have feelings like this for someone again? Maybe. People say all the time you fall in love once, you can fall in love again, but Euijoo knows himself, so it won't matter if he does fall in love again. He will never have this again, and he has to be okay with it. He's not sure he ever will be, to be honest. Euijoo thinks he will always mourn that you were the right person at the wrong time.

"You wanted to t—"

"I really like you," you blurt out, wringing your hands, swallowing thickly, "I really, really like you."

"I like you, too." He reaches out, flipping your hand over to run his finger down your heart line. "I thought you were breaking up with me."

"Oh, I absolutely am breaking up with you," you say, and he feels his heart drop.

Right.

"But I think I owe you something more than just an it's not you, it's me line."

"You don't owe me anything," he says, trying to pull his hand away. You wrap your free hand around his wrist, pulling his hand closer to your chest.

"I do actually," you say, rubbing your thumb over the grooves of his knuckles, "I very much do owe you something. So let me just…get this out before you tell me to fuck off, okay?" You take a deep breath. "I really like you, Euijoo. Like, it's insane how much I like you for it only being two months. But, uhm, I don't think it would be a good idea for me to go from a…a pretty bad relationship to another relationship." You pause, looking past him as you gather your words. "I-I lost myself while I was dating Takeshi. To the point where my family didn't even recognize me, and I cannot even begin to unpack the weird relationship I have with my mom, and me and Yana are just now starting to talk to each other again, like actually talk, and—"

"Breathe, darling."

You suck in a deep breath and offer him an apologetic smile. "Let me start over. Euijoo, I really like you, but I think that before I can get into another serious relationship again, I'm going to need some time with myself. Actually, if I'm going to be completely honest? I need to go to therapy. I need to learn who I am as a person, and I'm realizing I never really did that when I was supposed to. Which is insane because I'm 29, but whatever. And I know this is, like, selfish, and you don't deserve that; you could date anyone you want. You should date anyone you want, especially someone closer to you in age—"

"Darling." He corrects you again, stopping your spiral in it's tracks.

"Sorry."

He gestures for you to finish what you were trying to say. "Ask."

"Okay, uhm." You take a deep breath, tucking your nose against his hand. "I don't want you to wait for me. But if in, let's say—" you look up calculating some numbers in your head— "a year, maybe, if you still have feelings for me, would you like to try this again?" Before he can answer you rush out. "No pressure, by the way. I totally understand if—"

He kisses you, pressing your entwined hands under your chin to tip your head back. It's soft, and sweet, speaking words he could never truly articulate well.

"Okay, I'll wait."

"Euijoo, at least think about it."

"I just did," he says, kissing you again, "I'll wait. I want this." He forces you to look at him then, so you can see how serious he is. "I want you. I want to wait."

"If you're sure."

He makes a face. "I'm pretty sure."

6 Months and 5 Days

Euijoo puts all his effort and energy into his day to day. Variety shows, YouTube shorts, TikTok's fill his schedule. Being an MC for MNET takes chunks of his time, fills his planner, and manages to distract him for hours at time. He does his best not to think about you during the first few months, and fails horrifically. And if he were to be honest? He never truly settles into it.

He wants to text you all the time. Sometimes, he has to turn his phone over because it feels like it's talking to him. Once, Euijoo had to beg Maki to take his phone so he wouldn't cave and reach out to your first. Which, yes, he knows that's a little embarrassing. But he can't be embarrassed if he feels justified. When something particularly interesting happens, he reflexively goes to text you before remembering he can't and it causes a pang of loneliness light his chest up. He's waiting, but whose to say that if you do text him you'll want anything.

Is it embarrassing to say that he'll wait for you forever?

It's when he's scrolling through an old conversation that he gets the notification. The message auto-scrolls down, and Euijoo feels his heart beat in his ass.

I know it can be a bit gimmicky sometimes But the cherry blossom festival is happening and if you want to, I have two tickets

He watches the ellipses pop up for about a minute of two.

i'll be there at 7:30 no pressure!

He flies off the bed to look for something to wear when Fuma walks into the room. He says nothing for a while, watching Euijoo leaf through outfit after outfit before vetoing it.

"What…?"

"I…I—" he wheezes out, before pointing at his phone for Fuma to read.

"Oh, is this?"

"Yes," Euijoo nods, grumbling to himself when he pushes another outfit to the side, "very much yes." When he looks at Fuma it's with anxiety. "I…don't." He can barely put words together, and Fuma tilts his entire body back to check and see if anyone is coming before closing the door.

"Okay." He nods, pushing Euijoo out of the way to help him find an outfit. Almost an hour later, Euijoo is dressed in something he feels comfortable in. Fuma places his hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently.

"Everything will be fine."

"Everything will be fine."

"You can do this."

"I can do this," Euijoo repeats, voice breaking over this, and Fuma raises an eyebrow in amusement.

"Say it again."

"I can do this."

"Again."

"I can do this."

"You can do what?"

The two of them jump in surprise, turning to look at the door. Maki's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Uhm."

"You can do what?" Maki repeats, squinting at the two of them. Fuma and Euijoo make eye contact before the latter shrugs helplessly.

—

The blossoms sit on your curls delicately as the two of you trek through the venue. It's silent for a while, his fingers twitching in want. The fabric of his jeans are itchy beneath the palm of his hand, wrinkling the denim as he tries to get his head in the game, mouth opening and closing each time he wants to say something. He struggles with it sometimes, the ease the two of you built suddenly much more stilted. You reach out, wrapping your hand around his wrist in the silence.

His shoulders drop in that moment, a breath leaving him as he shifts closer to you.

"I'm glad you came."

The crowds chatter wafts around you the two of you, flowing up and down like the waves of an ocean as day turns to dusk.

"I'm glad I came, too." Whatever thoughts that had been racing in his mind stop with your touch, and the sound of your voice. "You look really good."

"Thank you." Your smile is bright, uncovered unlike how it was before. Way back when, you would have covered it up with a dip of your chin or a hand over your mouth. You seem settled, comfortable in your skin in a way you weren't 6 months ago. A piece of Euijoo mourns the fact that he was not around to watch you make this change, but another part of him is in awe of how much can change and remain the same in such little time. "You look good with the red—orange?— hair, by the way."

Your hand slides into his with a surety that has him blink down at your joined hands. Fingers lace together, and you drag him over to a vendor with a soft Ooh, that looks good. Euijoo is too busy staring at your hand in his to pay attention to what you order and hand him. He wants to, he can't even put the words together, ask you if this means what he thinks it means. He wants to open his chest and hand you his heart on a silver platter so you know it still beats for you. He wants to—

"Euijoo?"

"Sorry." The hanami dango, he finally looked down long enough to see what you handed him, is mildly sweet on his tongue, and it reminds him a bit of you. "Uhm, how's work been?"

You startle, as if suddenly struck with the fact that this is something he might not know, and Euijoo feels good knowing that he can still read you well. "I, uh, I quit, actually," you say, tucking hair behind your ear, "I work somewhere else. It's much better."

"Oh! Uh, c-congratulations."

It's quiet again as Euijoo searches for the words to describe what he's feeling. Happy, for sure. But sad that he wasn't around for it. He watches you look around for something before dragging you to a spot that seems untouched by the many people at the festival. It's hidden just so that it's private, but still connected enough to the event.

"I, uhm—" you close your eyes, taking a deep breath— "I really wanted to text you, but my therapist advised me against it. But I thought about you. A lot. And, I'm not gonna hold you, I thought you wouldn't even come, let alone text me back. Six months is a lot of time to not talk to each other, and I didn't want to assume that you would still want to…see me."

He can tell that whatever you were going to say at the end changed, but Euijoo truly prides himself on still being able to understand all your little idiosyncrasies. So, he takes a step, wrapping his arm around your waist, and lifting your hand to his mouth. He presses a kiss against your knuckles and smiles.

"I think I will always want to…see you," he says, "that won't change. Ever, really."

He watches you smother a smile, your eyes dipping to the floor as you do so.

"Last time we kind of went a little—"

"Fast?"

"Exactly." Your little chuckle is cute, and he pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. "I just want to move a bit slower?"

"I can do slower," he says, "how slow exactly? Like…can I kiss you?"

Your eyebrows furrow, eyes brightening as you look at him in amusement. "I dunno, I have to think about it."

Euijoo's eyes narrow at your look of mischief, and before you can say anything else, he swoops down and kisses you.

i can't focus

lol

don't laugh it's your fault! what about these pictures are going slow? I think I'm gonna pass out

you are one of the most dramatic men i have ever met

you know other men?

Even being nominated for a Daesang is exciting. Everyone hopes to win at least one, but the nomination is always incredibly steep and Euijoo was well aware of it. So it was safe to say that winning one is…exhilarating. The speech, the performance, hell even the photographs after are a blur to him. He feels…grateful? But impatient because—

Holy shit Holy shit HOLY SHIT EUIJOO HOLY SHIT

—he has someone he wants to celebrate with more than anything.

"Oh, I know that look," Maki says, wiggling his eyebrows, "Euijoo is about to leave us."

His fist presses against the curl of his lips, covering a smile as he slips his phone in his back pocket. Life is easier now that everyone knew about you. Now that he wasn't pretending to be okay with a fake relationship that was turning much too real much too fast, Euijoo gets to have you in a way he didn't before. He gets to talk about you to his members, and have his home screen a picture of your gentle smile on a date. He gets to bring you to Korea and introduce you to his parents (who loved you), and show you all his favorite places, and know that you will always be within arms length for him to reach and love.

He also gets to ditch his members without having to overly explain himself.

"Damn," Nico shakes his head, "you get a girlfriend and we're chopped liver, huh?"

His eye twitches in fond annoyance, checking his watch to see the time. 10 PM, he thinks, nice. Not too late, you won't be tired by the time he gets to the hotel.

"I'm sorry who ditched us last week for a facetime date?"

Nico flushes, grumbling in good nature as the rest of the group erupts in laughter. When the car stops in front of them, Fuma reaches out, stopping Euijoo for a second. He watches as his co-leader search for what exactly he was trying to say before settling on: "Be careful." He shoves Euijoo into the car, slamming the door shut and patting the roof to signify the driver to go.

They both know what Fuma means by be careful, and Euijoo has to stop a chuckle from leaving him. He has no intention on being careful. In fact, he's been thinking about this, about you in ways he feels like it thrums under his skin sometimes. Moving slow meant things were different than before. Moving slow meant not much sex, something you and Euijoo both talked about at length. Something you both agreed to, saying that when the time was right it will happen (though, he must admit, all times feel right in his want).

The car drops him off in front of the hotel you're staying at, and he feels himself start to get tunnel vision. I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you, circles his head over and over again. When he unlocks the door, you're seated comfortably on the bed, ratty sweats, and a shirt you stole from him as your pajamas.

He's never been more attracted to you.

"Euijoo? I thought you were going to celebrate with the rest of your members," you say, watching as he hooks his finger in his tie and loosen it. That goes first, then his suit jacket, then his button up, belt and finally pants. Is it too cocky to admit that he bought lube for this exact occasion? He'd hid it in your suitcase, having watched earlier the way you flushed when you saw it, your eyes darkening in arousal when he had said Just in case.

Just in case indeed.

He says your name then, caressing each syllable, and walks over to you.

"We'll celebrate tomorrow," he murmurs, grabbing your ankle and dragging you to the edge of the bed. Euijoo undresses you slowly, methodical in the way he pulls your sweats off, groaning when he sees you had went without underwear in the comfort of the hotel room. He kneels down, pressing his thumb against your clit, circling it absentmindedly causing your hips to jerk and your mouth to open. "Can I?"

Can I fuck you? Can I love you? Is this okay? Do you want this?

You read him just as well as he's been able to read you, and you nod quickly, tossing your shirt somewhere in the room. "Y-yeah. Yes."

He seals his mouth around your clit, flicking his tongue under the hood with a moan. You taste like his favorite snack. You are his favorite snack. He can stay here forever, swallowing your essence, allowing it to sustain him for years and years. Euijoo doesn't think that there is anything as tasty as you. I want you, I want you, I want you, he thinks, looking up at you as you slide your hand into his hair.

Your moans are a symphony to his ears, thighs tensing each swipe of his tongue.

"That, ah, feels so good," you moan, hips rocking against his tongue, "please don't stop. Please, please don't stop."

Not that he was going to. It's been so long since he's touched you that the swiftness of your approaching orgasm is unsurprising. Doesn't take much, you had said recently, when it's been a while. You gush on his tongue as you cum, and he watches as you tense, orgasm washing over you. It's a little thing, barely anything to take the edge off, but he kisses your thigh, slowly standing up so he hovers over you.

"Color?"

Bleary eyed, and particularly affectionate, you pet at his chest.

"Green," you say, scooting back with his movements, "Very Green. Bright fluorescent green. I've never been greener in my life."

He lifts your legs up, up, up expecting resistance and getting none. His breath leaves him in want and you giggle, shifting side to side so that your legs rest comfortably on his shoulders.

"That's ridiculous," he mutters, gripping your thighs tightly, trying to control himself.

"I'm flexible."

I can see that, he thinks, reaching over to grab the bottle of lube. The cap opens with an audible pop! squeezing the lube onto his hands to wrap his hand around his dick. He pumps himself once, twice, three times, guiding himself to your entrance and shuddering. You're warm and wet, and if he wasn't aware how slowly he needed to go, Euijoo would bully his way in to feel your cunt wrap around him.

He begins rubbing your clit again, slowly pushing past the ring of muscle. Your hand shoots up, gripping his bicep in slight discomfort, and he coos softly. "It's okay, just breathe, darling. Just breathe."

Your chest expands, following his breathing and he inches deeper and deeper with each breath. Your whimper is pained, eyes squeezing shut just as he bottoms out, but he's happy he had the wherewithal to bring lube, remembering the conversation you two had 7 months ago. He keeps rubbing your clit, walls pulsating around his dick with each pass over your bundle of nerves.

He watches as your shoulder loosen, hips twitching, moans shifting from slight pain to pleasure. "Fuck Euijoo," you groan, nails digging into his biceps. Your pussy flutters around him faster and faster and he laughs, just a little, and you whine. "Euijoo, god, fuck—I can't?"

He ignores you, fascinated by the way your stomach jumps, and tightens the closer you get. "Pretty." It feels good, the way your cunt spasms around his dick, so good, in fact, that he feels himself somehow grow harder. "Just give me one more, pretty baby. One more and I'll fuck you nice and good."

Your toes curls, thighs tensing as you cum around him, damn there pushing his dick out from how tight you seem to get. He shuffles closer, hips flushed against yours, watching as you turn your head into the pillow, eyes scrunching shut. Euijoo gives you no time to recover, pulling back and thrusting, first shallowly, then harder.

"You look so pretty when you cum," he murmurs, folding you in half, your knees to your ears and the whimper you let out sounds like fucking sin. Your hands press against his chest trying to push him away with the little strength you have left.

"W-wait! Wai—fuck."

"Wait?" He laughs, a little enamored, but very mean. as he fucks into you, the movement of his hips hard and sure. "You want me to wait, darling?"

You can't say anything, hands shaking as you struggle to find purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging down the length of his back. Skin slaps against skin in rhythmic movement, an erotic song of filth.

"I asked you a question, baby," he coos, foreheads pressed against each other. "Do you want me to, ah, wait?"

Your eyes are barely open, and he taps your cheek firmly. A gasp echoes in the room, and you clench so tightly, he has to bully his way deeper into you. When Euijoo looks down he sees the press of him in your belly and groans. With effort, he moves your hand to press against the print, and your fingers twitch. He gives you no respite, fucking you harder his name leaving you in hoarse whispers, the tail-end of his name a song.

"No, you don't want me to stop," he moans, cupping your breast in the palm of his hand, "you want me to keep going, don't you?" You nod, helpless to his movement. You can't meet him thrust for thrust with your legs by your head, left to the mercy of pleasure.

Euijoo could stop right now, but he won't. He doesn't want to. He wants to fuck you into tears, and he says as much, watching the way your face scrunches in pleasure, overwhelmed and overstimulated from being fucked through an orgasm. When you cum again it's with a sharp whine, one of your hands covering your face.

"Oh darling—" he pulls your hand away— "don't hide. Let me see you." You do, tears running down your cheeks from pleasure, and he licks the salty tracks up as you whine.

"T-too much. Euijoo too much-ah."

His eyebrows furrow, his hand pulling away from your breast, curling under your legs to grip your shoulders from behind. It pushes him impossibly deep, folds you up so much more, and you sob. He doesn't slow as he asks you the color, so sure is he that you don't want him to stop.

He's right, of course, your voice breaking as you say Green, half moan, half cry.

"Gonna cum deep inside," he moans, "gonna make these heavy with milk." Your pussy gives a pitiful clench, wet hot heat with your clit rubbing against the heat of his stomach where he's pressed against you. His thrusts are shallow but deep, puffs of breath mingling, as he fucks you to another sharp orgasm. "You want that, huh? Yeah, you want me to fuck a baby in you don't you?"

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. He talks you through it, feeling his own orgasm creep up his spine. "Gonna make sure it t-takes, darling. God." He cums sharp, hard and intense, his vision blacking out as his thrusts become sloppy. But he makes good on his promise, making sure you take ever single drop of his orgasm before he loses all strength and collapses on top of you.

After a while, he kisses your forehead and starts the bath. You grumble, even as he picks you up, depositing you in the bath and sliding behind you.

"Think my ass hurts," you gripe, voice hoarse causing him to snort.

"My poor baby." The skin of your shoulder is soft against his lips as he kisses it, and you elbow him half-heartedly. "What?"

Euijoo's laughs in amusement, adjusting with you as you press your back into his chest. He can't see your expression, but he's well aware you've pursed your lips in annoyance. He trails kisses up the expanse of your shoulder to the curve of your neck that has a content sigh escaping you.

"You're annoying is what," you say, head leaning back to get more comfortable.

"Mm, maybe," he hums in thought, running his hand across the softness of your stomach under the warm water. "But you like it."

"Against my better judgment." You tip your head to the side, reaching up with pruny hands to kiss him. Euijoo returns the kiss with fervor, feeling himself harden from the way your tongue runs against his bottom lip. He opens his mouth, pressing his tongue against yours, hand tracing the silky smooth of your skin to hold your breast again. You pull back with a gasp, eyes closed, tongue sliding against your lip to pull it between your teeth. "I'm too sore to even try to have sex right now."

His laugh is more a breath of air than anything else, eyes closing in his amusement as he shakes his head. "My apologies. I should have been more gentle."

"Nobody said any of that," you sound aghast, turning to be able to look at him better. Euijoo leans down, nuzzling your noses together, eyes darkening. "I just said I'm too sore to have sex right now."

"You liked it then?" Maybe you two should have talked about this before, but Euijoo was too focused on other things to think about checking in ahead of time. The tips of your ears darken, and you hide your face. Usually, Euijoo would pull your face out of your hands and make you meet his gaze, but he's feeling nice so he lets it be.

"Yeah," you mumble shyly, "I liked it. 'S not like I didn't expect it from you, anyways."

"Rude!"

"True," you say back with a soft laugh, "I told you, I know you. You may have everyone else fooled, but not me. I see you."

Your words cover him him with understanding, the terrifying feeling of being seen for who he truly is, and Euijoo gets shy, gaze averting to the ceiling of the bathroom. In the silence, you shift to rest against him again, back against his chest, water and bubbles rippling with your movements before you settle.

Much later, when the two of you have tucked in for the night, Euijoo pulls you closer so that neither of you can see where you end and he begins.

"I see you, too," he whispers in the dark, and you make a soft, sleepy noise that he reads as you agreeing with his words. A nebula of emotions fill his chest, something that reads as love, want, and everything in between. In your slow drift to sleep, you press your face deeper into his chest, and he kisses the top of your head.

I love you, I love you, I love you, he thinks. Euijoo has always been particularly good at knowing what he wants and working for it. He doesn't have to think about wanting you, it's embedded in his very being, the birth of a star that needed the right conditions and got it. When he talks to Nico tomorrow he has to ask him a good place to buy a ring.

He's pretty sure about you.

tag list: @kjjupilled @itzhbu @eiffeltowerdaydream @inlovew-themoon uh if i forgot anyone idk im at work yall

[lisie-loves-u]

i hate when i FINALLY find the fic that fits everything ive dreamed of..... and the author has no grammar or spelling skills. and its not to say that people who aren't good at grammar, or punctuation, or spelling or even english as a language shouldn't write—i am just unnaturally picky about that sort of thing and i simply can't read fics with multiple grammar errors, it drives me CRAZY, just my own personal problem. and its kinda sucks that the only fic ive seen that checks every box plot wise, length, pacing, etc. is something i can't even make myself read.

[whoisthisnobody]

I genuinely am so angry someone who isn’t me gets to crack nishimura riki

[cherryw0n]

im going the FUCK to bed.

[jiuchip]

ᯓ YOU WANT HIM, TOO? — keeho & jiung (18+)

℘ — fuckbuddy!keeho (기호) x reader x jiung (지웅) ▸ ⌜ 3k ⌟

synopsis ▸ your current fuck buddy plays matchmaker for you and your longtime crush—but an attempt at sabotage leads to something much, much messier

δ — nsfw (mdni), f/m/m, m/m (yes more yaoi), threeway, dom!keeho, sub!jiung, sub!reader, light angst, making out, dry humping, thigh riding, oral (f. rec), unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, degradation

ᯓ an — “jiung will be put on hold after this fic” i said, like a liar. but keeho is in this one too so it doesn’t count… nevermind that jiung was in the last fic with intak too… okay yeah i have problem sue me

“You know, staring at him any harder won’t get him to fuck you.”

Your gaze hesitates to pull from Jiung, who stands across the club at the bar looking unbelievable in all black under strobing lights. 

You turn to glare at Keeho across the booth. Your glare sharpens even more when you realize just how insufferably good he looks in that black tank and bomber jacket slipped low on his shoulders. 

“You sure?” You raise a brow. “It worked with you.”

Keeho snorts, pointing the lip of his beer bottle accusingly at you. “Hey. We were both desperate and lonely that night.”

Well, he’s not wrong there. Jiung had introduced his new girlfriend to your group that night at the pub, the very girl that Keeho had been crushing on for months. 

One look at him, at that dejected looking in his eye mirroring yours had led to a wordless, frantic night where you’d poured your frustrations out into each other. 

And multiple nights after that… to this day. 

To your defense, Jiung still hasn’t reflected any interest back at you even though he’s single again. How else are you supposed to spend your lonely nights?

You look back to where Jiung waits for drinks, thrumming his hands awkwardly on the counter as he glances around. 

You’ve been working up the courage to go up to him for a few minutes now. You don’t understand why it’s so difficult for you—if you weren’t such a coward, maybe something would have happened by now. 

“Fuck it,” you huff before tossing back the last of your martini, slamming the glass back down with vigour. “I’m going in.”

Keeho beams at you, raising his bottle. “That’s my girl!” He yells a little too loudly, voice a tad too liquor loose. “Go get him.”

You roll your eyes despite your smile, his cheer infectious as you rise to your feet. But then you see the situation unfolding at hand and sit your ass right back down. 

There’s a girl sidled up in Jiung’s space. Short, dainty, cute.

“What is it?” You can hear Keeho asking but you can’t bring yourself to answer him. 

Jealousy burns hot and ugly in your gut when Jiung points his awkwardly charming grin down at her, answering whatever flirty question she was surely throwing at him with those batting eyelashes. 

You quickly turn back to stare at your empty glass, trying to keep your fraying heart together. It doesn’t matter how many times this happens, it never gets any easier. 

And Keeho can’t stand it, that defeated look on your face. 

He stands abruptly, bumping the table on the way and you jump at the sudden sound, eyes snapping up to him. 

“What are you doing?”

“You a favour,” Keeho says with a grin, leaning down on his palms to hover over your face. “Gotta wipe that pout off your face somehow.”

You blink, forcing your expression to smooth. “What? You don’t have to—“

“I’ll do it for a price,” he interrupts, his grin growing wider. “Meet me in the bathroom in ten?”

You can’t help your grin. Of course he wouldn’t willingly have a conversation with Jiung without a price. Not a charge for helping you, but more so because he can’t really stand the guy. 

Which speaks to how far Keeho is willing to go just for you.

Your smile sobers into something more grateful. “Just don’t scare him away.”

He flicks the tip of your nose affectionately and straightens. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Keeho takes a breath, rolls his shoulders back and marches in. He hones in on Jiung’s shy, giggly expression as he closes in from across the bar, his own expression souring. 

It makes him sick to his stomach, to watch Jiung put on his nice guy facade and make all the girls fall for it. It sometimes feels to Keeho like he’s the only one who sees past the smoke and mirrors for what Jiung really is—an emotionally detached control freak. 

What the hell do you see in this guy anyway?

Whatever it is, it’s not his business. He has one job—to sabotage, and he does it well. And if it gets you to stop feeling shitty about yourself, he will gladly butt in there and make a situation wildly uncomfortable. 

You watch from your shrouded seat as Keeho intercepts the conversation smoothly, throwing his arm around a miffed Jiung who stares at him befuddled and a little angry. 

You can’t tell what Keeho’s saying, gesturing animatedly and jostling around a helpless Jiung, but the girl’s smile slowly fades away as she subtly steps back. 

You have to bite down on your lip to smother your smile. It’s horrible, you know it, but you’re not above being selfish. 

The girl leaves shortly after, and only when she’s gone do you see Jiung’s expression drop to something cold and angry as he pushes Keeho off of him. 

It takes you aback—to see his pretty face twisted up so unfamiliarly. 

But you don’t get the chance to mull over it or see what happens next because Taeyang and Intak crowd your vision and butt into your space. 

“You’re still sitting here?!” Cries Intak, his hands clamping down on your shoulders as he shakes you. “Come dance!”

“Intak,” Taeyang warns, elbowing him. “Don’t subject these poor people to that.”

You glare up at Taeyang’s snickering grin, shoving Intak’s sweaty hands off of you. “Fuck you,” you snap, leaning back to look past his tall frame to continue watching the scene you’d unwittingly incited—only to see that Keeho and Jiung are no longer there. 

“Where’s ever’one else?” Intak asks as he slips down onto the seat beside you, his body swaying under his alcoholic spell. 

You shove him off when his body slumps against you. “I don’t know,” you grumble, glancing down at your phone when it lights up with a Pokémon GO notification to see if there were any messages from Keeho. 

There’s none, but the clock tells you it’s time to meet your end of the deal with Keeho. 

“Bathroom,” you announce as you grab your phone and slip out of the booth, Intak’s body thumping down onto the seats without your body to hold him up. 

“Don’t drown!” Taeyang calls noncommittal after you as you swerve through the swarming bodies. 

Your mind reels with what might have gone down with Jiung, but you suppose you should save your questions for after you blow Keeho. 

But you get stopped short at the door of the bathroom when you hear low, familiar grunts through the barrier. 

You blink. Did Keeho find another girl? That might be record time. 

You’re about to step away and leave him in peace when you hear another voice, higher and whinier and… masculine?

You blink again. Oh, you think to yourself, good for him. 

You turn to leave again, but then you’re stopped again at the words you hear. 

“…you knew she’s been into you this whole time,” you hear Keeho say, his voice rough and breathy. “And you didn’t do a damn thing. It’s fucking pathetic.”

Your heart pounds. Is he talking about…

“Well maybe if you were fucking her I would have.”

Your heart stops, the words not even processing in your head. That’s Jiung.

“Ow, fuck!” You hear him hiss, and you’re hit with the sudden realization that the noises you heard were them fighting.

And you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Because there they are, Jiung and Keeho, the two people in your friend group always at each other's throats, trying to shove their tongues down each other’s throats.

Your brain has stopped working. The image doesn’t quite process in your mind, of Keeho pushing Jiung harder into the grimy wall, of him pulling Jiung’s head back by the hair to dig his teeth into his lips, of Jiung’s eyes rolling back as he lets out a guttural moan, his hips rocking up to the thigh Keeho has shoved between his legs. 

Of pushing hands and biting kisses and choking fists. 

You consider shutting the door and turning around and throwing yourself into a vat of acid. 

Instead,

“What the fuck?”

Jiung bristles immediately at your voice, ripping away from the kiss with a startled noise as he tries to push Keeho away without success. When he sees it’s you though, he freezes completely, his fists tightening at Keeho’s shoulders, watery eyes going wide. 

You stare at him. That’s all you can do with the storm of confusion, betrayal, and a hint of unprecedented arousal swarming messily in your head. 

Keeho is the last to react, lifting slowly from where he’d started mouth at Jiung’s jaw. He looks at you with a lazy grin, if a little sheepish. 

“Surprise?” He says, scrunching his nose. “Turns out Jiung’s not only into you but he’s—“

Jiung slaps his palm over Keeho’s mouth, glaring at him. “Can you not?!”

Keeho stares back. “It’s a little late, don’t you think?” He muffles against his hand. 

Jiung’s gapes, mouth opening and closing as he tries to put together something to say, anything really, but he comes up short. 

So he opts instead to look at you again, at your indifferent expression, and prays that you don’t completely despise him now. 

“So let me get this straight,” you start slowly, putting the staggered pieces together because you need to make some sense of… of whatever this is. “Jiung… you like me?”

Jiung can’t do anything but give a meek nod, unable to look you in the eye. 

“…and you like Keeho?”

Keeho winks at Jiung when he looks up, to which Jiung squeezes his hand tightly around Keeho’s face getting a pained grunt in return. 

He nods again, keeping his gaze averted. “Yes,” he finally says, his voice thinning out. “But—but I figured you guys were together and I just thought…” He trails off when Keeho slips away from Jiung’s hand and leans back in, pressing a low, warm kiss to his neck. His train of thought gets completely derailed as the presence lingering in his gut reminds him again of what almost was. “I-I didn’t…”

He trails off with a soft moan as Keeho takes his hips again and rocks his aching cock down on his muscled thigh, his brain completely rewiring to focus on the pleasure instead. 

You watch, almost entranced as Jiung shudders and wraps his arms around Keeho’s broad shoulders, taking over and starting to grind himself down at a more eager pace. 

You lose your train of thought too, quickly forgetting whatever it was you were so wound up about. Does it even matter now when you get to see him all blissed out like this, cheeks flushed and hair messy and making out with your fuck buddy?

Keeho’s voice snaps you out of it. 

“C’mere,” he beckons you with a hand stretched out for you, that sly smile on his just a little warmer as he points it to you. 

You step forward and take his hand, letting him pull you into their tangled bodies. 

You can’t really focus when Keeho pulls you into a slow, indulgent kiss. You try for his sake, pressing back half heartedly, but your eyes are open and stuck on Jiung as he mouths at the hinge of Keeho’s jaw, panting into him as he keeps rutting needily against Keeho’s leg. 

Your attention gets pulled when Keeho nips at your lip, making a dissatisfied grunt that finally gets your attention on him. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you give into his pull; you came here to pay him back in the first place. Though you're not sure if it even counts anymore, you’re not one to go back on your word since he did technically succeed. Whatever, you can figure it out later. 

You lose yourself quickly to the kiss as it grows hungrier and more frantic by the second, Keeho’s tongue sliding against yours in a familiar, heady rhythm, his hand sliding down to your ass to hold you firmly into his side. 

You nearly forget the other presence—Keeho has a good way of melting away every other thought but him when he’s with you—until you feel a pair of lips, soft and light, brushing timidly against your cheek. 

You break from the kiss with a soft gasp at the sudden touch, turning to see Jiung startling away and burying his face into Keeho’s other shoulder. 

“S-Sorry,” he says quickly, his body trembling. Though whether it’s from the arousal or nerves, you don’t know. 

Keeho pays you both no mind as he starts trailing his mouth down your neck, like it’s his way of giving you two a little privacy, ridiculously enough. 

Jiung peeks out at you before quickly looking down again, and it fills you with such a sudden force of aggression from how fucking cute he really is like this, that you grab his chin and pull him into you. 

He grunts as his lips crash painfully into yours, mouth parting with a gasp when you immediately bite down on his lip. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling against his lips at the wide eyes he watches you with. “You can make it up to me.”

And make it up he does, on his knees in front of you moments later with his mouth buried into your cunt while Keeho fucks you from behind. 

It was a blur leading up to this predicament, with your hands braced against the dirty walls, bent over Jiung on one leg with a knee propped on his sturdy shoulder while Keeho holds you in place by your hip and pounds his cock into you with no mercy. 

His thrusts are brutal as his hips snap into yours, punching noises out of you each time that go muffled into the tight hand he has over your mouth. 

“You’re so fucking loud,” Keeho hisses into your ear, pushing his cock all the way in and rolling it as deep as it can go with a low grunt. “You want the whole club to know what you’re doing right now?”

You whine into his hand, shaking your head rapidly as you heave at the little reprieve you get. But then he starts up again, even harder this time, pushing your clit right over the tip of Jiung’s nose with each thrust. 

Your eyes roll back and fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation.

Your sobs go unanswered as Jiung wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, his round eyes peering up at you over your short skirt and watching every little twitch in your expression. 

He wants to be the one fucking you right now. But he can settle for this, fisting his aching dick as he lets his tongue unravel you on Keeho’s cock. 

“Pretty,” he muffles without much thought, his brain too filled with pretty moans and the sweet taste of you on his tongue. “Sound pretty,” he says again, before fixing back on rapidly flicking his tongue over your throbbing clit. 

You moan needily, legs trembling as your body struggles to keep upright. 

Keeho laughs over your shoulder, slowing down to deep, grinding thrusts that don’t help you in any way. 

“Doesn’t she?” He coos. “To think you could’ve had this a long time ago if you didn’t have such a dumb little brain.”

Jiung whines at the words, faltering against you, but you hear the slick sounds of his hand fisting his cock start speeding up. 

Keeho chuckles, low and amused as he reaches around to grab Jiung’s hair and push his face further into your heat. He sighs when he feels the wet slide of Jiung’s tongue flick momentarily against his cock as he starts to lap at where he’s connected to you. 

“Don’t cum yet, Jiung,” he warns, giving his head a short pat before he takes your hips with both of his hands, pulling out until the swell of his tip stretches your entrance. 

He preens at your pained whine spilling freely into the air when he starts to just tease his tip in and out of you, just toying with your hole. 

“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he says, then slams in right against that gummy spot in your walls that makes you scream out, see stars, and come all over Keeho’s cock and Jiung’s face. 

Jiung only laps faster at your dripping cunt, drinking up your arousal that seeps out with Keeho’s cum as he spills into you with a choked grunt. 

Keeho fucks into your pulsing cunt a couple more times to ride out his high, letting out a shuddering breath as he slips out of you. 

Through his own haze, he preens when he hears the slick sounds of Jiung’s eager mouth fire up even more, and he takes advantage of your state of pure, mindless euphoria to reach down to your cunt and scissor you open, letting your mixed arousals pour freely onto Jiung’s seeking tongue. 

His head spins at having you both reduced to this; animalistic, filthy, fucked out and brain dead to everything except pleasure. 

If Keeho had known that insulting Jiung to his face and dragging him into a closed corner would get the both of you like that in his bed every other night, he would’ve done it ages ago. 

But then again, he wouldn’t change a damn thing.

taglist: @jellyybelly, @jseobbie, @tintedsvn, @fixonfreak, @stxrxyyz, @hxraiiii, @peachy-x-k33n, @choxochip, @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta, @boptak, @peonyjoo, @kittyshotak, @oyasumiaikko, @straystar-8, @meow4seonghwa, @evemds, @willowedjelly, @velvetjoong, @seonghwaswifeuuuu, @delicatechris, @orchidves, @lycxee, @girlcrushd, @halaziasupremacy, @chandlxa, @soulssnucky, @snyngjhn, @jiungs-wednesdaygirl, @kyoluvrs, @princessthelsa, @nichozzystuffs, @mo8ny4951, @rockstartaeyang, @shmooooo, @cherryyberry1 @keymeadoww @p1issocool @tikfreakingtak @nota10butadefinite8 @snuckyyyy @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kha0sblossom @sstrawbxrry @momochips @mydearandy @seomisaho @fairylix @ericlvr @kisseobies @saranghoeforanton

𓆩⟡𓆪 check out my masterlist for my other works

comment to be added to my taglist!

1 reblog/comment = 1 virtual kiss <3

© jiuchip

[xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx]

Some of y’all are way too quick to call people (especially idols) allies just because they aren’t disgusted by someone bringing up homosexuality, I fear that is just default living.

[guppiechuu]

baby, baby, baby 𓂃🧸۶ৎ ˚ʚɞ˚ l.h.

exboyf idol!heeseung x youngmom!reader

length: 12.1k

contains: angst, hurt/comfort, abandonment issues, second chances, gaining back trust, ot7 hangouts, lots of teasing (of reader and heeseung), flirting, slow burn, co-parenting, mild explicit language, therapist jungwon, happy ending

warnings: none really... mentions of young single mom and absent father

synopsis: you never planned on seeing Heeseung again, let alone with another man's child on your hip. but when a run-in at the grocery store turns into an evening at your messy, toy-strewn apartment, you're forced to face everything you left unsaid. you're not the same girl he left behind all those years ago, and he's not the same guy that did the leaving. so where does that leave you now?

the question: how much are you willing to bet on second chances? the answer: everything.

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ finally posting this monster oh my god. this was meant to be a <1k word oneshot, but turned into a full-on fic. excuse me and my indulgences, i just have daddy issues and am in love with lee heeseung. 

⤷ 💌 i edited this a ton and added like 1000 words cuz i needed more hehe so enjoy!

——

You cursed under your breath as your shopping bags began to slip through your fingers. From your hip, Hana fussed unhappily, tiny hands clawing at your face as you struggled to adjust your grip on her.

“S’cuse me,” A woman said, giving you an annoyed glance as she stepped around you. The others behind you made sounds of frustration as you struggled to wrangle your babbling child and groceries out of the store’s entrance.

“Would you mind getting out of the way?” A man asked impatiently as one of your bags slipped.

“I’m sorry,” You said, face burning with embarrassment.

Hana began to cry, her tiny body impossibly strong as she twisted in your arms, trying to escape your grasp.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, pushing past you.

You bit your lip, hair falling in your face to hide the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Everything was so hard. Ever since your ex had moved out, you’d had no one to help you.

No one to stay up with Hana when she was fussy, no one to entertain her so you could sneak a quick shower in, no one to get groceries while you washed, and fed, and tended to her.

Your parents were a state away, your friends busy with work or travel—none with kids of their own. No one who understood what you were going through. Standing in the doorway of the grocery store, you felt, for the first time since Hana's father left, the true gravity of how alone you both were.

Another exasperated sigh came from behind you as Hana began to cry in earnest, her shrill voice piercing the air of the store.

“Should’ve left her at home with dad,” An older woman said, tsking as she stepped around you. “New moms these days, thinking they can do it all on their own. That kind of attitude kills marriages, you know."

You opened your mouth to defend yourself—to tell her that you couldn't kill a marriage that didn't exist, to even just curse back at her—when the paper bag you’d managed to hold onto split open, the contents spilling out onto the floor.

“For fuck’s sake,” A man said, shoving past you. His shoulder caught yours, knocking you off balance.

Hana’s weight threw you off-kilter, and you stumbled to the ground, holding her tiny wriggling body to your chest.

You wanted to cry.

Beside you, someone stooped to the ground, hastily grabbing the groceries that had fallen out of your bag. You looked up, the apology already forming on your mouth. As your eyes landed on them, the words died in your mouth. 

Heeseung.

Your heart skipped. 

He didn’t say anything as he gathered the rest of your things, giving you a hand up. His eyes were glued to the squirming toddler in your arms. 

With your groceries collected, you were able to step to the side, Heeseung’s hand still on your arm. The customers who’d gathered behind you filed past, one man glaring at you as he did. 

“Finally,” He muttered. 

Heeseung’s head snapped in his direction. “Fuck off,” He shot back. Then, looking from Hana to you, he chuckled nervously. “Sorry.”

You were speechless.

How long had it been since you’d seen him? Three years? Three years since he boarded the jet that had carried him out of your life forever. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday—ENHYPEN was going on tour, he wasn't sure when he'd be back, or when he'd have time for you again. The group had just started to take off. This was the big break, he’d said. The one that would start the rest of his life.

Going with him was out of the question. Long distance was brutal. Fans were possessive of their favorite members, and a girlfriend was a risk that management couldn't afford. It took all but a few hours for him to be cut from your life. Gone. Erased. Entirely. 

And now, here he was. Lee Heeseung, the great heartbreak of your life, standing in the middle of your friendly neighborhood grocery store, eyes darting back and forth between you and the one-year-old clinging to your hip. 

Hana made a noise, reaching a hand out at him curiously. He glanced at her, his expression softening. He smiled as he leaned forward, cooing gently while she fiddled with the earring that dangled from his ear.

Your chest tightened.

“Here,” He said, taking the bags from your hands. “Where did you park?”

——

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Heeseung said quietly as he put the last of your things into your car.

He looked just as you remembered him—tall, handsome, soft-faced, and even softer-voiced. He carried a bag of his own, full of items that sent you back to your school days with him—glossy packages of instant ramen, cling-wrapped kimbap, and those energy drinks he always liked.

You tore your eyes from them, trying to shake the memories of late nights in his dorm from your mind.

“No,” You said, meeting his eyes. God, his eyes. Just as deep and intense as you remembered them. “I should be thanking you. Back there,” You gestured awkwardly, “I was… It’s been a long day.”

His eyes darted to Hana again. You could practically see the question forming on his lips, but he was still the Heeseung you knew, far too polite to outright ask.

“Hana,” You said, smiling at the pink-faced toddler in your backseat. "She's one," You added quickly, watching for his reaction.

He nodded, his expression conflicted, like he was working through his thoughts. “I didn’t know…” He said slowly, looking back at you.

“I know. I… didn’t want you to,” You admitted. “You had a lot going on."

His face dropped. “Y/n, I want you to know, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” You said simply, looking down. “You had a life to live. Dreams to chase.” You smiled at him, genuine, although something deep in your heart had begun to ache, starting the moment you’d locked eyes with him. “I was always proud of you for going."

“I shouldn’t have left like that. I know you wanted me to go, and I’m glad I did, but I…” His fingers toyed with the strings of his bag nervously. “…I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”

You shook your head, pushing the memories away. “Don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge.”

From the car, Hana began to cry again. It was well past her dinnertime, which meant she’d be inconsolable until you got her home and into her high chair, which was… still broken.

You bit back a curse, remembering that you’d needed to run to the store to replace it today. A week of trying to feed her without it had proven nearly impossible. Especially now that you were alone.

You turned back to Heeseung, trying not to feel disappointed that reality was sweeping you two apart again. What was that phrase? Right person, wrong time? Well, this was two for two.

“Anyways," You said. "Thank you. Seriously. I was losing it in there.”

“You headed home now?” He asked, looking between you, as if trying to keep the conversation going. Hanna was bawling, fists clenched angrily.

You nodded, pulling a snack pack from your bag and tearing it open, hoping it’d be enough to satiate her until you got home. If you could get her fed, maybe you’d have time to take care of all the other things that were piled on your to-do list.

There were dishes waiting for you, and sticky counters, and laundry. So much laundry. The light in your room had gone out and needed replacing, but you barely had enough time to sleep there, let alone perform a maintenance job on it.

You sighed out a tired laugh, rubbing your face with your hand. “Um, yeah. She needs to be fed and put to sleep, and there’s some housework stuff. You know, never a boring day,” You joked half-heartedly.

Heeseung hummed. Then, hesitantly, asked, "Where’s her dad?”

The question knocked the wind out of you.

He gazed at you curiously, a hint of concern in his eyes. It made your stomach twist uncomfortably. This was the one thing you didn’t want coming up.

The baby? Sure. Your embarrassing moment in the store? Fine. Even the state of your hair and clothes, covered in stains and baby powder and spit-up, whatever.

But the fact that you were alone, that the person you’d chosen to father your child was nowhere to be found, that stung in the back of your throat. Nothing had changed. You were still the one being left behind. 

Heeseung read the look on your face. “Oh,” He said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” You cut him off, not sure if you could take the awkwardness of this conversation any longer. “But, yeah, I should go. I have… a lot to do at home. Everything’s on her schedule these days.”

“Can I help?”

You felt your breath catch for a second time. “What?” You laughed nervously.

Heeseung nodded at your groceries and at the squawking baby in the back seat. “Can I help you? We’re on break. Been doing pretty much nothing but sitting around the house, gaming all day. I’ll come over.”

“Heeseung…” You started, images of your messy baby-proofed home springing to mind. As if he needed to see any more of the disheveled single mom life. “You don’t have to do that, really, you’ve helped enough—”

“Y/n, we've known each other for a long time. I can tell you’re up to your neck right now. I want to help,” He said earnestly. “Will you let me?”

You held your breath, searching his face for some clue as to what this meant for you two. Ten minutes ago, you had no idea he was even back home. And now... he was asking for a step back into your life.

The inside of your cheek stung as you chewed on it. Finally, you sighed. "What the hell. Fine. Here, let me write down my address for you."

There, at the corners of his eyes, you caught it. That glimpse of joy in his expression, of hope. It confused the fuck out of you, but you just waved to him, climbing into your car and wondering what this meant for you.

——

It was practically impossible to walk across your house without tripping over one of the toys that littered the ground. There were dishes all over the kitchen counters, soup stains on the wall behind Hana’s highchair where she'd thrown her spoon, dirty laundry spilling out of your closet and across the floor.

Heeseung didn't seem to care at all.

In fact, the only thing he seemed to care about was your daughter. Her small fists, the rosy color of her cheeks, the bubbling sound of her laughter. You'd known Heeseung liked kids—you'd talked about having them once—but what you didn't know was how much they loved him.

He and Hana hit it off immediately, faster than you'd ever seen her take to anyone before.

Without a high chair, you’d been struggling to find the best way to keep her stationary long enough to feed her. Heeseung, however, only propped her on his leg, one hand around her stomach, the other holding her plastic pink Hello Kitty spoon.

It was like magic.

No crying, no spitting. No throwing or hitting. You watched in wonder as she sat there, hands resting on his forearm. The perfect little angel you always bragged about back in full swing.

Her preoccupation with him gave you a chance to not only make her dinner, but get her pajamas out and set up her bath for later. It was the most you'd managed to get done in a single hour in weeks.

Having Heeseung there wasn’t just helpful, it was... overwhelming. His presence filled your senses—the smell of his cologne intermingled with Hana's baby lotion, the feeling of him moving around the kitchen behind you, his voice mixing with her giggling nonsense in the living room.

It was intoxicating. It was dangerous. Because part of you wished—had always wished—desperately and against all reason, that this was what your everyday looked like.

You tried to dissuade that wish as you bent over the kitchen sink, elbow deep in soapy water and dirty dishes. Heeseung came in from the dining room, holding Hana's little bowl and matching spoon in one hand, her bib in the other.

"All done," He said, placing them on the counter. "Finished the whole thing." He sounded proud. It made your chest tighten.

"That girl sure can eat," You said lightly, grabbing the dishes and submerging them under water.

"Mmm, just like her mom, then," He joked.

Being there with him, joking with him, it stirred something in you. Something you'd spent a long time trying to forget. Your throat closed as he came up behind you, dry hand sliding over your soapy one.

"What—" You started, but he was already pulling the bowl from your hands, nudging you out of the way.

"I got this. Go finish up with her."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, ignoring the fluttering sensation that crawled up your throat. He was helping, just like he said he would. It was meaningless.

Still, the feeling of his palm on the back of your hand had your heart stuttering.

In the solitude of the bathroom, you rested your chin on your hand, watching as Hana dunked her plastic horse under the soapy bathwater. She held it up to you, babbling through the bubbles on your face.

You sighed. "What d'you think? Should we let him stick around?"

She slammed her horse back into the water with a squeal, sending water over the edge of the tub.

“Yeah,” You muttered, half to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

You looked over at yourself in the mirror, leaned against the edge of the bathtub, your clothes and hair damp from your daughter’s splashing. So different from the girl that Heeseung had left behind all those years ago. The one he once swore he’d come back for.

You felt childish for even remembering that. Everything was different now. He could have anything he wanted. The girls around him were exactly what you weren’t, what you’d stopped being the moment you found out you were pregnant. They might have been your age, but they weren't saddled with motherhood.

You, on the other hand, would never be able to escape it again.

All anyone seemed to talk about with you was the baby. How old she was now, if she’d started talking yet, how well-behaved she was.

Even running into Heeseung, the first thing he looked at was her. It was like watching yourself fade from existence, all trace of what once made you you vanishing into nothingness. 

You weren’t fun. You weren’t spontaneous. Not anymore. Motherhood had drained you of all that youthful vitality Heeseung had once loved so much about you. You felt bland. Boring. Nothing to call your own except for your daughter, who seemed to be the most interesting part of your life nowadays. 

Looking at Hana now, you knew there was no way that Heeseung was going to make a permanent return to your life, not when there was a child involved.

And yet.

And yet, Heeseung was still around when you were done with Hana’s bath. 

He’d finished the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. He’d put the rest of your groceries away and tossed all of Hana’s toys back in their bin. He even took the trash out, and was offering to fix the light in your room when you stopped him.

“Are you gonna make me kick you out?” You said, hands on your hips.

The corners of his mouth quirked, his brow lifting. “You really are someone’s mom, huh?”

“Heeseung.”

“Come on,” He laughed, “I’m already here, I might as well fix it. You really want me to go?”

No, of course you didn’t. Of course, you wanted him to stay and help you with your light, and fix your leaky shower head, and make your daughter laugh herself all the way to sleep.

Of course, you wanted him to find a million other things to help you with, and to let you keep imagining what life would be like if he were to be there. To really, truly be there.

What, were you supposed to say no to all that?

By the time the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Hana was dozing off in Heeseung’s arms, her cheek flat against his shoulder.

You watched from the kitchen doorway, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of them. He swayed slightly, bouncing up and down with a hand to her back.

No one held her like that. Not even her dad. He’d wanted almost nothing to do with her. The diapers, the crying, the mess. He’d decided enough was enough before she was even born. But Heeseung…

“She’s incredible,” He said, glancing back at you. His face was soft, shoulders relaxed. It looked almost like she was as comforting to him as he was to her, with her hand wrapped around the fabric of his shirt.

Your throat was tight. “She is. Takes after me, you know,” You joked, trying to ease the effect that this scene was having on you. Your face was warm.

He chuckled, pursing his lips as she stirred gently. After a moment, he said, “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

You leaned against the doorframe. “It wasn’t something I wanted you to hear from someone else.”

“Yeah,” He said. “Still.”

Still.

He finally looked up at you, and you saw it—how much he was holding back. How hard this was hitting him, all at once. Sure, it had been a long time, but the emotions on his face were like a second language to you. You could read them in your sleep.

“I’m not asking for anything,” You said quickly, maybe too quickly. “I’m not—bringing you here because I want something from you.”

“I know,” He said. But he kept holding Hana anyway, and when you laid her down in her room for the night, he was still in the living room, waiting for you.

“You do all this on your own?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

“Every day.”

“You’re amazing,” He whispered.

“Thanks,” You laughed.

He followed you into the kitchen. “I always knew you’d be a good mom.”

The comment sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“What?”

“Yeah, didn’t I ever tell you that?”

You stared at him. “No.”

“I’m sure I did.”

“I think I’d remember if you did. So, no.”

He flashed that smile, the one that used to make you weak in the knees. Still made you weak in the knees. “Then I was an idiot.”

You scoffed, eyeing him skeptically. “Whatever. My house is a mess, and I have literally no social life. Look at me, I’m covered in baby food, and I’m not even the one who fed the baby.”

“Yeah, well,” He shrugged, that stupid smile on his face. “You make anything look good.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

He gasped. “What? No, I’m just a very supportive friend who happens to know that you manage to make everything look sexy, even being covered in baby food.”

Friend.

“Heeseung.” You used to be the love of my life. 

“What!” He grinned. “You’re the one who keeps blushing.”

“I am not blushing.”

He shook his head as he laughed, the sound light and pure. “I missed you. God, I missed you a lot.”

You tensed.

“That first year of tour was hell,” He reminisced, leaning back against your counter. “We hardly slept, or ate, or got any moments to ourselves. It was just go, go, go. All day, every day.” He glanced at you. “But being away from you was by far the worst part.”

“Whatever,” You said quietly. There was a lump in the back of your throat.

He hovered as you finished putting the dry dishes away in your cupboard. “It was hard without you there. You know, you’re the reason I debuted in the first place. Because you believed in me.”

Did you ever believe in me? You wanted to ask. Lingering resentment was seeping from the back of your mind, coloring those happy memories a shade darker. How was it so easy for you to leave me?

“It was hard looking out for everyone without you there,” He chuckled. “You always made that part easier. That’s how I know.” 

“Know what?” You said, eyes on the plates in your hands. 

“That you’d make a good mom. You were already halfway there with me.”

You froze. “Heeseung,” You said slowly, “Don’t.”

“What? I’m just saying—”

“No, you’re not. You’re flirting.”

He gave you a lopsided smile. “Is that illegal now?”

You stared at him. “We can’t do this.”

His smile faltered, just slightly. Enough that you knew he’d heard the part you didn’t say aloud: Not again. I can’t do this again.

“I’m not trying to mess anything up,” He said quietly.

“But you do, Heeseung. You walk in, and you smile, and she adores you, and then what? You go back to your life, and we’re left here pretending this never happened? I’ve been there, done that, okay? And I can’t— I won’t let it happen again.”

He opened his mouth, but no answer came.

“Look, I get it. You were gone for a long time. Being back home carries a lot of weight, I’m sure. But you can’t…” You looked at him, chest aching. “You can’t just come in here and make me feel like nothing’s changed when it has. I mean, look around. I have a kid now. I can’t— I’m not like you. Not anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, a look of hurt flashing behind his eyes.  

You ran your hand over your hair anxiously. It was late, you were exhausted, and you were letting your emotions get the better of you. You knew you should stop talking and just send him home, but you couldn’t.

“You have your whole life ahead of you,” You said. “You get to pack up and travel the world, do whatever you want, meet whoever you want. I don’t. That ended for me the second I had her.”

“Y/n,” He frowned, but you cut him off.

“I thought…” Tears pricked behind your eyes. “I thought that maybe things would just be a little different. That I’d still get to—” You caught your breath, the weight of everything you’d gone through rising suddenly, knocking the breath from your lungs. “And then it ended all over again. When her dad left.” 

You saw the way his face hardened, a look you hadn’t seen in years. Hurt. Angry. Protective. 

“I’m alone, Heeseung,” You whispered. 

“That’s not true—”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s not! You have me—”

“Then where were you!?”

His face fell. You didn’t want him to see you cry, but you were dangerously close. Being near him, seeing that god forsaken look in his eyes, like he was angry with himself, it killed you. 

“I didn’t know,” He said quietly. “If I had—”

“You would have, what? Cancelled your tour? Come racing home to help your ex with some other guy’s baby? That’s not true and you know it.” 

“I would have found a way to be there for you.”

“Really? You could have called. Once, even. You could have checked up on me, but you didn’t. You packed your things and you left. That’s all anyone ever does, is pack up and disappear.”

“Don’t, y/n. It’s not the same thing. I never would have left you with our kid like that,” He said seriously.

Our kid. The words seemed to burrow into your chest, curling up around the part of you that was still so angry, so hurt, so betrayed. 

“No,” You said bitterly, wiping your eyes roughly with your sleeve. “You just left me. Not as big a deal, right?”

He flinched, those big, sad eyes of his wincing painfully.

You knew it wasn’t fair. You knew you were being cruel now, prodding a wound that was clearly still open in both of you, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted, just once, for someone to tell you that you were worth fighting for, that the way he and Hana’s dad had both abandoned you wasn’t your fault. That you weren’t defective. Disposable. 

Heeseung held your gaze, brows creased. “I deserved that,” He finally said.

You looked away, jaw clenched. 

He took a step toward you, slow, like he was scared you might push him away. “You’re right, I did. I left. I let you believe that I didn’t care about you. I thought… walking away would make things easier. That it would hurt less, instead of dragging it out, making you wait for me. You had a life of your own waiting. I couldn’t do that to you,” He reasoned. “And look at you! You brought a kid into the world, y/n. You never needed me, or anyone else. You’re strong.” “I’m not,” You argued. 

“You are,” He said firmly. 

You shook your head, arms tightening around yourself. “I’m not strong. I’m surviving. That’s not the same thing.”

Heeseung didn’t argue this time. He gave you an apologetic look, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t mean to come here and upset you. I wanted… I really did want to help, y/n.”

“You have,” You said, not meeting his eyes. It was hard to speak without your voice shaking, and you didn’t want him to see you cry. 

His voice softened, gaze dropping to the floor. “I know I can’t change the past. And you don’t trust me. But we’re back home until the next album’s finished.”

Your chest tightened. So, he was sticking around. Great, you thought to yourself. Just what you needed on top of everything else you had going on. 

“If you need me, you can call me. You know that, right?”

You said nothing. Heeseung got his things and left, mumbling apologies as the door closed behind him. You had to catch your breath against the doorframe as the sound of his car faded down the street. 

Here you were again. Watching the door swing closed behind him, wishing you were brave enough to ask him to stay. 

That night, you went into Hana's room and curled up in the chair beside her crib. Looking at her—the soft fat of her cheeks, the way her tiny chest rose and fell so steadily without a care in the world—was the only thing that kept you from breaking down completely. 

You watched her silently, the occasional rogue tear slipping down your cheek. Three years worth of emotions had bubbled up to the surface, crashing over you like a tidal wave of memories and regret. The house was empty again. You were alone. 

For the first time, you confronted the hard truth you’d been trying to ignore: no one was coming to save you. You were on your own.

——

Heeseung must have looked upset, because the moment he got back to the dorm, the others were on him.

“Where were you?” Sunoo asked, looking up from his game.

Beside him, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jungwon were sprawled on the couch. Jake watched from the floor, stretched out on his stomach. Niki was curled up in the chair, half asleep. 

“Nowhere,” Heeseung mumbled, kicking his shoes off. 

“You look like shit,” Jay said bluntly.

“Thanks.” 

“I thought you were just stopping at the store?” Jake turned to look at Heeseung over his shoulder. “Geez, you really do look terrible.”

Jungwon looked at him curiously. “Are you okay?”

Heeseung’s mind was still spinning. He could barely form a coherent thought, let alone answer their questions. He brushed them off, wanting nothing more than to disappear into his room in solitude. 

But these were his group members, his best friends, and they always knew when something was wrong. They switched the game off and trailed after Heeseung as he made his way to his room, shoving his door open. It bounced against the wall loudly. 

Heeseung winced, dropping onto his mattress. His body felt worn, his mind foggy, like he’d spent all day on stage instead of laughing with you in your kitchen. He still couldn’t believe he’d spent the day with you. In fact, he could hardly believe anything about what had happened. 

There were no words to describe what Heeseung had felt, seeing you again for the first time. It was like every one of his senses dialed in on your figure crouched in the door, your hair falling over your shoulders. His throat had closed, his fingers curling into his palms by his side. 

His heart had nearly leapt out of his chest completely. 

And then, there was Hana. 

He hoped he didn’t look as surprised as he’d felt, but he knew the chances were small. You’d always been able to read his emotions. You’d been the one to ask him out, after all—sick and tired of how painfully obvious his feelings for you were. No one else had ever came close to understanding him the way you did, not even the guys.

You probably saw right through his easy attitude, straight to the heart of his reaction: seeing you with Hana had scared him shitless. 

He pressed a hand to his face. I’m never offering to go to the store for the others ever again, he thought hopelessly.

Jungwon appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. The others poked their heads out from behind, waiting for him to say something first. Jungwon might have been younger, but he was their leader, through and through. 

He always knew what each member needed in moments like these. For Heeseung, it was space. And time. Jungwon just stood there for a while, not saying anything. 

Heeseung’s voice was rough when he finally spoke. “I saw y/n.”

More silence. 

He hadn't talked about you in a long time, mostly because it brought his mood down every time someone so much as mentioned your name. Years later and he was still upset about the way you'd left things. 

And now he knew that you were, too.

“I ran into her at the store,” He continued. “Her bag had ripped so her stuff was everywhere, and people were getting pissed.” Fucking assholes. “I couldn’t just— turn the other way, pretend I didn’t know her.”

No one argued with that, but Heeseung still felt the back of his neck go red. 

"So I went up to her. I helped her grab her things. She..." He trailed off. "We went back to her's after." 

Jake shoulders dropped, looking relieved. "So, what's with the long face? Haven't you been dreaming about this since, like, we left?" 

“Yeah, I’m surprised you’re back here,” Jay smirked. “She didn’t want you to stay the night?”

"She has a kid." 

That shut them up. 

She has a kid. The words sounded foreign in Heeseung's ears. He still hadn't fully wrapped his head around it. The girl he’d been hung up on for years was a mom.

Jungwon’s eyebrows shot up. “Like.. has has?”

Heeseung nodded. “A little girl. Her name’s Hana.” 

“So that means she’s…”

“Single,” Heeseung said incredulously, falling backwards onto his mattress. The entire situation was mind boggling. “Hana’s dad isn’t around. Not sure why. All I know is that it was sudden. He just packed up one day and… left.” 

Just like I did, He thought bitterly. God, he’d made a number of mistakes throughout his life, but that had to be the worst of them all. 

“Damn,” Jungwon said under his breath. “That’s a lot.”

Sunghoon shifted his weight anxiously. “How did she seem?” 

Heeseung swallowed. “Tired. She looked so tired. And sad. I could see it in her eyes, even though she was trying not to show it.”

“She didn’t ask for anything?” Jake asked.

“No. She doesn’t want anything from me. She made that pretty clear.” Heeseung dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know what to do. I thought I’d moved on, or at least that I was done holding onto her. But seeing her like that…” His voice cracked, and he looked away. “It’s like everything I’ve been trying to forget just—came back all at once.”

Jungwon finally stepped into the room, going to sit beside Heeseung. The others trailed in after him. It was crowded with all of them there, but Heeseung was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that they were with him. That he didn’t have to spend the night alone with his thoughts.

Like you were now. He thought of you alone in that house, working through the motions of your reunion by yourself. It made his chest ache.  

“Shouldn’t have left her,” He mumbled, mostly to himself. 

“Are you going to see her again?” 

“I don’t know,” He mumbled. “We argued. I think she doesn’t want to believe I could ever be there for her. That I’m just going to leave again.” His throat tightened. “I can’t blame her for feeling that way.”

“Are you?”

“I— no, I don’t want to. But she’s afraid to trust me. And I’m scared, too! What if she’s right? She’s always right. I don’t wanna cause her more trouble…” 

Now that he was talking, he couldn’t stop. The others listened intently, nodding along, humming sounds of understanding. 

“I’m scared that the more I try to get closer to her, the further I’m going to push her away. She has enough shit going on in her life right now. I don’t want to add to that. But I can’t just let her be. Not when I know she’s too proud to ask anyone else for help.” 

“No, not y/n.” Sunoo hid a laugh behind his hand. “That girl would rather die than rely on anyone else. She’s always preferred to figure it out on her own.”

“I know. I don’t want to fuck up her life anymore than I already have.” 

“Hey, at least you’re not the asshole who knocked her up,” Jay said lightly.

Heeseung bit his lip, suddenly worried he was going insane.

Worried because the smallest part of him almost wished that he was. He would have never left you alone. And… Well, he’d always liked the idea of you with his kids. He meant what he said earlier—if anyone was going to make a good parent, it was you. 

A baby would have killed his career for sure, but… he almost preferred that to the idea of you struggling through parenthood alone. 

“So what are you going to do?” Jungwon asked. 

“I don’t know,” Heeseung sighed, sitting up. “What if I try to be there for her, and I make things worse? What if she’s right not to trust me? I don’t want to—” He ran his hands through his hair anxiously. “I can’t hurt her again. I’d rather never see her again than have that happen.” 

Jungwon pursed his lips, thinking. “It is true that you’ll have to leave again when the next album is finished.”

The others nodded, murmuring in agreement.

“Tour life isn’t exactly fit for a kid.”

“There’s always the chance that people find out about you two.”

“You’d have to be apart for a long time.”

Jungwon nodded. “But… do you love her?”

Heeseung’s face went red. “What?”

“Quit acting embarrassed. We had to listen to you go on about her for a year straight after we left. I think you can tell us if you’re still in love with her.”

He pursed his lips and frowned, mulling the question over. Was he still in love with you? 

Who was he kidding, of course he was. How else could he explain the way the world seemed to blur when he caught sight of you in the store? How his body was moving to help you before he even had time to think about it?

Heeseung was in love with you. As in love with you as he was the day he left. Why else had he spent all day at your house doing chores, enjoying every minute? The way you moved around each other, the sound of Hana’s voice responding to yours, the way he could see pieces of you in her. God, he’d only known that girl for a day but he was already feeling protective of her.

Of both of you. 

He sighed. “Yes… I do. I am.” He pressed his thumb into his palm, where he’d brushed the back of your hand. “I really missed her,” He mumbled. “But I’m scared to mess everything up. Again.”

 “You’re not gonna do that,” Sunghoon said, leaning against the wall. 

“Yeah, come on. I’ve never seen you make the same mistake twice.”

“Thanks,” He muttered, still unable to shake his fears. 

“If you really love her, you’ll find a way to make it work,” Jungwon assured him. 

Hearing that brought a small amount of relief to Heeseung’s anxiety, but he still wasn’t convinced. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?” He asked quietly.

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic. If she doesn’t want to see you, she’ll tell you. Did she?”

“No… not explicitly…” 

“Then you still have a chance. Don’t screw it up.” 

Heeseung chuckled lightly, feeling slightly better. “I’ll try not to.”

“Screw your feelings, we miss having her around,” Sunghoon joked. 

“Yeah, I wanna meet this kid,” Jake said eagerly. “If she’s anything like y/n, she’ll fit in just fine with us.”

Niki hummed in agreement. “Yeah, we never agreed to your break up.” 

“Mm. Very inconsiderate of you,” Jay said. 

Heeseung laughed, for real this time. He felt his chest untighten for the first time in hours, his shoulders dropping, his jaw unclenching. God, he was grateful for his friends. They were right. 

Heeseung had been losing his mind over what he should do when there was really only one option in front of him: to prove to you how serious he was about you. Whether or not you were able to fix things between you two, that didn’t matter to him. 

All he cared about was showing you that you could trust him. That you weren’t alone in this, no matter how long you’d spent believing otherwise. 

Seeing you today confirmed what he’d known the second he’d left all those years ago: you were the only one for him. And meeting Hana—feeling the warmth of her against his chest, smelling your perfume on her skin, noticing the way her lips curved up in the same shape that yours did—it was the final nail in the coffin. 

His life would never be complete without you in it, one-year-old and all.

——

Heeseung’s reappearance in your life didn’t happen immediately.

In fact, it was a few weeks before you heard from him again. Lost in the throes of trying to find a babysitter so that you could pick up an extra shift at work, his text was left buried in calls from your landlord and notices about upcoming bills.

Heeseung Are u busy this weekend? I have some overexcited friends who are anxious to meet that baby of yours.

It sat unanswered for a day. 

You didn’t know it, but every single one of the 24 hours that passed before you got back to Heeseung was like knives in his skin. The day dragged by, long and torturous, as he sank deeper and deeper into the belief that maybe he’d been wrong, and you didn’t want to hear from him after all. 

He was relieved when his phone buzzed on his desk, your name popping up on his screen for the first time in three years. 

Y/N Oh god.

Y/N Are u really gonna bring them over here??

Heeseung Not if you’re not okay with it.

Y/N It’s not that I’m not okay with it. it’s just… weird

Y/N Never thought I’d be introducing your group members to my kid.

Heeseung Definitely weird.

Heeseung Always figured they’d meet ours first but this works too.

Y/N Heeseung.

Heeseung What? Just saying.

Y/N 🙄

Heeseung I’ll be good. I promise. Saturday?

He chewed the edge of his nail as he watched his screen, heart racing at the base of his throat. Your text came in and he couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. 

Y/N Yeah right.

Y/N See you then.

You had precious little time to clean up before they got there. When you heard Heeseung’s knock at the door, you were part-way through clearing Hana’s things out of the living room. 

Sweaty, hair a mess, sticky toddler on your hip, you pulled the door open to a group of faces you hadn’t seen in years. 

The guys stood there for a second, taking you in. Sunoo was the first to break the silence, his face widening into a grin. “Wow,” he said, “Motherhood really does suit you.”

You rolled your eyes, your face warming as you shifted Hana on your hip. “Shut up, Sunoo.” 

Hana peeked out at them, fists clutching your shirt nervously. 

Jake’s eyes went wide as he crouched down, level with her. “Hi,” He said, his voice going soft. “You’re so cute, oh my god. Mind if we come in?”

Hana smiled shyly, burying her face in your shoulder.

“Sorry about the mess,” You said, stepping aside to let them in. “Can never seem to keep anything clean these days.”

“You should’ve called us,” Sunoo pouted. “We could’ve helped.”

“No way. You guys are busy enough as it is.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jay said. “You should see how these guys live”

“Oh, shut up, Jay. Your room is disgusting. I don’t know how you live in that filth.”

“My room is disgusting!? Should we talk about how you keep the living room—”

“Get out of the way!” Jungwon complained, pushing past them. 

Heeseung was the last to come in, messy-haired and bare-faced. He looked nervous, but his shoulders droppe when he caught sight of you.

He paused in the doorway. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” You said. “It’s fine. Just… don’t expect her to start doing tricks or anything.”

“Are you sure?” Sunghoon asked, peeking at Hana. “I heard kids can dance these days.”

“Please,” You scoffed. “She can barely get a spoon from her plate to her mouth.”

They laughed as they filed in, avoiding the toys that were scattered around the floor. For a moment, no one wanted to sit down. They crowded around you, pulling funny faces to make Hana laugh, reaching out to pinch her face. 

Heeseung hovered beside you, eyes flicking to yours. It felt good to have him close. You’d never had this many people in your house before, not since having Hana. His presence was steadying. Reassuring. 

You found yourself wanting to stick close to him as well. 

They followed you into the living room, pointing at the photos and finger-painting scribbles hung up on the walls. You noticed Heeseung from the corner of your eye, bending down to grab things from the floor as he went, tossing them into Hana’s toy chest the same way he had when he first came over. 

It was instinctual, that desire to help you, to take some of the load off your shoulders. Always had been. 

“How are you, y/n?” Jungwon asked, “Besides the cute baby and messy living room.”

“Um,” You sighed, “I’m… managing. Getting used to doing all this on my own. It’s hard but rewarding, too.” You smiled at Hana, pressing your lips to her head and breathing in the soft, sweet baby smell of her hair. “She makes it worth it.”

Your voice was easy, your face relaxed, but Heeseung could see the fatigue in your body. Your shoulders drooped, Hana’s weight sagging in your arms. 

Getting used to doing all this on my own. You’d never know how sad it made him to hear you say that. 

“I can’t imagine how tired you are,” Jake said, watching as Hana curled a hand around his finger.

You laughed lightly. “I definitely don’t sleep the way I used to. Or, at all, really,” You admitted. “You don’t even want to know how long it’s been since I’ve showered.” 

“I can see that,” Sunoo teased, gesturing at the myriad of stains across your shirt. “I like the baby food. It’s a good look on you.”

“Glad to know it’s working on you, jerk,” You said playfully. God, you missed having these guys around.  

“Do you want me to take her?” Heeseung asked. The question caught you by surprise. He seemed so easy about it, like it was something he did every day. “You can take a quick shower… if you want.”

“What? No way. You guys are friends, not my babysitters.”

“Not yet,” Niki said, leaning down to coo at Hana’s face. 

“Seriously, we don’t mind,” Heeseung insisted.  

You bit your lip sheepishly. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely. We’re professionals.” Sunghoon said seriously. 

“I mean, we are terrible at music,” Jake added, “But picture books and stuffed animals? I think we got it.”

“Go,” Heeseung insisted softly. “We’re here. Let us help.”

You hesitated. It was such a small thing—showering, putting on a fresh t-shirt—but it felt huge. Like accepting their help would mean finally admitting just how worn out you were. 

There was also your protectiveness over Hana, too. You’d never left her with anyone but your parents before. It was why finding a babysitter had become such an ordeal—trusting anyone with your child took an incredible leap of faith.

But then you saw the look in Heeseung’s eyes. The hopeful, almost desperate need to do something for you. He held your gaze, steady, solid. 

As if in answer, Hana reached out for him, squirming away from your grasp. She’d always been good with faces, and he was wearing the same jacket he’d worn the first time he came over. She stretched towards the familiarity of his arms and you surrendered, allowing her to climb into them.

“She likes you,” Jungwon said, a big grin on his face. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, unable to hide the pride in his voice. “I like her, too.”

Seeing her in his arms again brought back the same feeling from before. The one that made you want to see Heeseung with your daughter all the time. 

They just looked so… at home together. Like Hana had known him since the start. You hated to admit it, but you were starting to wish that she had.

“All her toys are in there, and there’s snacks in the fridge if she gets fussy. If she gets really upset I’ve got a pacifier in her room—”

Heeseung nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up at your rambling. “She’ll be great.”

You sighed. “Okay, but if she starts crying—”

“We’ve got it,” Jay reassured you.

Sunoo shot you a wink. “Go on, mama. We’ll look after her.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and slipped down the hall, feeling, for the first time in a long while, that you had people in your corner. It was a good feeling.

——

“She sorta looks like you, Heeseung.”

“Oh, stop teasing him. He’s not gonna let us come back with him next time.”

“You’re so full of it. They don’t look anything alike.”

“She’s got a real Shin Min-a look to her. Old school.”

“She looks like her mom,” Heeseung said, only half-listening to what his idiot friends were debating about. 

His attention was mainly on the tiny human balanced on his thighs, her hands tangling in his hair. She was a stout little thing, skin slipping under the slippery fabric of her shirt as he kept a firm grip on her. 

A Laker’s jersey. Your guys’ favorite team. 

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions rising in him. Just being there—with Hana, with you—it was enough to make him crazy. He tried not to feel dizzy as Hana’s hands moved to his face.

“She missed you,” Jungwon said quietly, fidgeting with a plastic airplane in his lap. 

For a second, Heeseung thought he was talking about Hana, but no. He was talking about you.

Heeseung glanced at him. “You think so?”

“You should’ve seen the way she was looking at you when she opened the door.” 

Jay snickered at him, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Yeah, she was totally checking you out, man.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” Niki chimed in, tossing a stuffed rabbit at Sunghoon. “Don’t act like you didn’t notice.”

Heeseung just shook his head. “She’s just… It’s been a long time.”

Jay shook his head. “Nah, man. You’re still important to her.”

“It’s obvious,” Sunoo agreed. “If Jay noticed it, it’s real.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Well, you’re not the most observant of people, are you?” He said, side-eyeing him.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. He hoped they were right.

——

The guys started coming around more often after that. They always insisted that they were restless at the dorm and liked having somewhere else to hang out, but you knew it was more than that. 

It became something of a tradition to have a big meal at yours at the end of the week, and as time passed, it became easier to rely on them. It felt good to have a kitchen full of noise, a table that wasn’t empty, a house that shook with laughter and music.

They’d bring bags of groceries over and cook these huge, chaotic dinners to share in your dining room. The kitchen was left a mess but they always cleaned up. 

Weeks went by and Heeseung stayed behind more and more often, tidying up the rest of the house with you, even helping to put Hana to bed. 

Despite your reservations, you liked having him there. You liked the way he’d come through your door unannounced, toting drinks for you and a snack for Hana in his bag. You liked the way he’d get up from the couch when he heard her fussing, and how the others teased him about it in front of you.

“Is that your baby now or what?” Jungwon would laugh, eyes flicking between you and Heeseung with that knowing look.

You’d turn red and Heeseung would just shake his head, smiling. 

Even in your hardest moments, he was still showing up for you. Providing you with the comfort and stability that you were trying so hard to give your daughter. You tried to remind yourself not to get too used to his support, but there was no denying it—it was easier to take care of Hana when there was someone taking care of you, too.

“I don’t know what to do,” You sighed, reaching down to pick her back up from her crib. Your phone was tucked between your cheek and your shoulder, Heeseung on the other end of the line. “I’ve tried everything. She just won’t settle.”

His voice came through rough and scratchy with sleep. It was late, and he probably should’ve been asleep hours ago, but you’d started calling each other. A lot. If he wasn’t there in person, he was on your speaker phone, talking to you and keeping Hana entertained. 

“Do you wanna try feeding her again?” He asked, yawning. 

“I’ve tried. She doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want anything.” You sighed as Hana let out another ear-piercing wail. Her face was red and blotchy from crying. It looked like another all-nighter for you. 

“Can you take her to your bed? I think she just doesn’t like being away from you.”

That was certainly true. Hana was getting clingier and clingier these days, spoiled by all her uncles constantly wanting to hold her. 

“I can’t, I’m scared that I’ll fall asleep,” You said. 

Countless horror stories about parents falling asleep with their babies in their bed had left you anxious to bring her to yours. It was moments like this that you wished her dad was there—that you had someone to take turns staying up with.

“I’ll let you go,” You sighed. “I’m gonna try walking her around the house or something, maybe another bath. Sleep well, okay?”

He hummed as you ended the call, the vibration tickling your ear through the phone. Almost like he was there with you. At least one of you would be able to get some sleep, you thought enviously as you pulled Hana to your chest. 

Only, ten minutes later there was a knock at your door. 

“Heeseung?” You stared at the man in your doorway. Hana scratched at your face as she wailed up at you. “Are you crazy? What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “Wanted to make sure she was okay,” He said, as if that was a reasonable explanation for showing up at your house at 2 a.m.

“She’s fine,” You said, half-stunned as you shut the door behind him. 

Hana let out a disgruntled whine at not having your attention. You raised a brow at her, shaking your head. “You’re such a little drama queen. Look, you’re not even upset anymore.” 

It was true. Hana’s cries had slowed to a sniffle as she gazed at Heeseung with wide, glossy eyes. He held a hand out for her to grab onto.

“Had to make sure mom was okay, too,” He said quietly, thumb brushing over her knuckles.

You looked up at him, your chest tightening. His hair was a mess, poking out from under the hood of his sweatshirt. A rush of emotion washed over you at the sight of him, at the dark circles under his eyes, the tired smile on his mouth. The way he was trying—really trying—to be there for you both.

“You didn’t have to,” You mumbled, averting your eyes. 

God, even in his most sleep-deprived state he was gorgeous. Eyes burning into yours in the low light. His body hummed with that quiet power that had drawn you to him in the first place—that confidence, that steadfastness. How he seemed perfectly at ease no matter where he was or what he was feeling inside. 

Standing next to him, you felt slightly less exhausted. Like simply being around him was enough to energize you. 

“I know,” He said softly, “But I wanted to.” 

He stepped forward, hands slipping under Hana’s arms with a tenderness that made your heart sting. She let out a giggle as he lifted her up, hands smacking against his chest as he settled her against him.

“She’s always happier with you,” You said quietly. It wasn’t a complaint. Hana really was calmer around Heeseung, and that brought you a sense of peace that you weren’t quite sure how to explain. 

He looked at you, his expression softening. “She’s happier when you’re okay,” He murmured. “Come on, let’s try this again.”

Despite his best efforts, Hana was still unhappy in her crib. She clung to his arm as he tried to place her down, voice going up several octaves. You winced at the volume, grateful that you didn’t share walls with your neighbors. They’d have lost their patience hours ago. 

Heeseung didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t even flinch as she shrieked, clawing at his hands in frustration. He just scooped her back up, resting her against his shoulder and muttering reassurances over her cries. 

You tried for an entire hour—walking her around the house, reading her favorite books and making sure to do all the funny voices, swaddling and unswaddling her, over and over and over. The best luck you had was in your room, like Heeseung had suggested, which both heartened and annoyed you at the same time. 

How were you supposed to deny a man with such good instincts? 

“You are so dramatic.” You shook your head as Hana hiccupped from your pillow, smiling like she’d never been crying in the first place. 

“I wonder where she gets it,” Heeseung said lightly, sitting down on the other side of her. 

You tried to stifle a yawn as Hana stretched out, both of your eyes drooping. 

Heeseung couldn’t help but smile at the both of you. He’d never met your ex—hadn’t even seen a picture—but he didn’t need to know that Hana hardly took after him.

 Her smile, her mannerisms, that was all you. She was yours, through and through. 

“Come here,” He said, pulling Hana closer to him to make space for you to lay next to her. 

“I’ll fall asleep,” You protested. 

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Anyone else, and you would have said no. Anyone but him, and you’d have insisted they leave, resigning yourself to another brutal night of no sleep. 

But it was Heeseung. He propped himself up on one elbow, his arm curved over Hana’s head. 

You sighed in resignation as you settled in on the other side of her, your hand resting over her stomach gently. His hand came down to brush the hair away from your face. His fingers were soft against your temple, the same gentle touch that you used to love so much. 

Anyone else and you would have turned them away, but it was Heeseung, and he watched the two of you sleeping like you were the most precious things to him in the world. 

——

When you woke the next morning, the sun was peeking through your window, filtering through your blinds and washing your room in soft, white light. 

In front of you, Hana was still sound asleep, her fists clenched by her head. On the other side of her, Heeseung was there. Still on his side, shoulders curved inwards protectively. His arm was still stretched out above you both, his hand resting gently against your hair. He’d fallen asleep that way, holding you both like you were his to care for. His to protect. 

And waking up that morning, you realized that maybe you were. Maybe you wanted to be. You slipped out from under his hand, trying not to disturb either of them as you rolled the ache out of your shoulders. 

You padded into your kitchen, warm light spilling across the floor. Leaning against the counter, you finally admitted to yourself that you had a problem. 

Heeseung was doing it. He was making you believe.

You let out a breath. 

The nightly calls, the small gestures, the way Heeseung was there for you, it was working. Are you really falling for this? You thought stubbornly, trying to reason your way out of the way you felt about him. How much of it was real, anyways? And how much had you made up in your desire to have him close? Your mind screamed at you not to trust any of it. 

He was an idea. You didn’t need him. 

But you wanted him so bad. 

Your heart warred against this truth, desperate for something—anything—to convince yourself otherwise. But it wasn’t easy to do. The life he’d painted around you in just under a month was like something out of a dream. One you’d had before the baby, before the breakup, when you still felt like dreams like this had merit.

It was everything you’d ever wanted, and that made you suspicious. What reason did the universe have for giving this to you? When it had been so intent on taking things away? 

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hana came crawling into the kitchen, slapping her hands on the cool floor. Heeseung trailed in after, looking exceptionally tired with his hair sticking up in awkward places. He yawned, scooping Hana up with practiced ease and perching her against his chest. 

“Hey,” He said, bringing her over to you. “Did you sleep well?”

You took her grabbing hand in yours, kissing a good-morning into her hair. “Thanks to you. You’re so good with her,” You said, trying to keep your voice even. Your stomach was fluttering nervously. “I don’t know how you do it.” 

He shrugged, giving her a little bounce that sent her squealing with laughter. “It’s easy. She’s a charmer. Just like her mom.”

Your heart stuttered, and you looked away, fighting the stubborn burn in your chest. Heeseung saw it, though. He always saw it.

“I’m glad I came, y/n. Seriously. I slept great.”

“You slept terribly.”

“Alright, fine, I slept pretty badly, but it was worth it,” He insisted. “And I’d do it again. And again, and again, and again,” He laughed, nuzzling his face into her chest. “Can the guys come over today? Unless you want the day to yourself… I know we’ve been over a lot. I can go home if you want.”

Words could not describe how badly you wanted him to stay. “Yeah, of course. I like having you guys around.”

I like having you around, is what you should have said, but you didn’t have to say it for Heeseung to know what you meant. The smile on his face told you that he understood completely. 

It was already the beginning of the end for you when the other members came over and started teasing you both mercilessly. Weeks of hanging out at yours had made them bold—and it was clear that they wanted you to address what was going on between the two of you.

“Should we start packing your room up?” Sunoo asked, side-eyeing you both as he came in.

“You might as well just move in, bro,” Jay said, clapping his hand on Heeseung’s back.

You scoffed. “Yeah right, not until he starts paying rent.”

Jay smirked. “He’d do it.” 

“Shut up,” Heeseung mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Their banter might have embarrassed you once, but it felt natural now. The way they spilled into your living room, fighting over who got to hold Hana and which toys she wanted to play with more more—it was hard not to feel like this was how it had always been. 

You clung to whatever thin resolve you had left as you watched them all with your daughter. No matter how much you tried not to, your gaze always landed back on Heeseung. The way he lifted Hana into the air, blowing raspberries into her stomach until she was screeching with laughter. The way he handed her off to someone else and insisted on helping you get her lunch ready. 

Things between you and Heeseung became… different. 

It didn’t fluster you as much when the others teased you for being attached at the hip anymore. And you didn’t mind when he’d sit with his arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers brushing the back of your neck.

For every inch you gave, he seemed to take a mile. Eventually, it became commonplace for him to collapse on the couch right next to you, thigh brushing yours, arm stretched behind your shoulders.

The others stopped asking if Heeseung was leaving with them. They knew he’d choose to stay with you. 

“Are you just gonna stand there staring at me all night?” You asked, your back turned as you put your dinner leftovers into the fridge. You could feel his eyes on the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“Maybe,” He said, “I like watching you.”

“You’re insufferable.”

He smirked, eyes glinting. “You didn’t seem to mind earlier. When I put my arm around you on the couch, you didn’t move.”

Caught. 

“That was different,” You managed, keeping your voice even. He didn’t need to know how much of a rise that simple touch had gotten out of you. 

“Was it?” His voice was low as he came to lean against the counter beside you, arms crossed. “Felt pretty natural to me.”

Weeks passed and lines got blurrier. He touched you. A lot. Practically couldn’t keep his hands off of you—brushing a strand of hair from your face, a hand on your lower back, a stroke of his thumb against your temple. 

By the time you realized it was happening, that you were really, truly falling for him again, it was too late. 

Waking up with your head on his chest, Hana curled between you—it was too late. 

His arms resting on either side of you against the counter, his chest to your back as Hana sat on top of it—it was too late. 

His hand running back through your hair in front of everyone as he tried to find the scar you’d gotten from hitting your head on his dorm door all those years ago—it was too late.

As much as you tried to manage your affinity for him—remind yourself that he had always been friendly, that this was just a passing thing for him while he was bored at home—it was during your weekly dinner as a group that your feelings became impossible to deny any longer. 

You were in the kitchen, putting the dishes away when you heard a sharp crash from the other room—the sound of glass breaking.

Your heart skipped as you dropped the bowl you were holding and ran towards the living room. Someone had knocked a cup from the table, the shards spraying across the floor. 

Heeseung was on his feet in a second, scooping Hana up away from the broken pieces, stepping away as the others got up. 

You paused in the doorway, your breath catching as you watched him. The others stepped around him to clean up, bickering lightly about who was to blame, but Heeseung’s focus never wavered. He murmured something in Hana’s ear, pointing at the broken cup, bouncing her gently as they swept up the shards.

He looked up and caught your eye, and it was suddenly so clear. 

You’d been an idiot. 

Looking at Heeseung now, it was impossible for you to deny any longer. Heeseung loved you. How had you managed to convince yourself otherwise?

Old grudges rose in the back of your mind—he left you. he left like it was nothing, like everyone else does, and he’s going to do it again—but for the first time, you pushed them away with ease. 

They were words. 

And what use were words when there you had actions to prove them otherwise? 

Something about that moment, the way Heeseung had gone for Hana first, letting the others handle the mess while he made sure she was alright, made your doubts melt away. His first instinct wasn’t to scold whoever had knocked the glass over, or even to help clean it up.

It was to keep your daughter safe. 

You spent the rest of the day with a lump in the back of your throat, the awkward ache of all the things you wanted to say to him. He seemed to notice your change in attitude, that something was bothering you, and he stuck even closer than he usually did, stopping to ask you if you were okay multiple times.

“Will you stay behind?” You asked, glancing up at him. “After everyone goes.”

He looked surprised, but nodded. “Of course.”

The others eventually left again, wanting to go out for dinner. Heeseung promised he’d catch up with them but they just rolled their eyes, not believing him for a second. 

With the house empty again, it was impossible for you to dance around it anymore. 

Hana was down for her nap—eased to sleep by Sunghoon and Jake’s rendition of her favorite bedtime story. Heeseung was leaned against the counter, as if half-expecting you to say something. And your words sat heavy in your throat, aching to come out.

“You don’t know how much it means to me,” You murmured finally, looking up to meet his gaze, “Having you and the others here. I don’t know how I’ll ever make it up to you.” 

“You don’t have to make it up to us, y/n. We’re happy to help.” 

“No,” You said, shifting uneasily. “I dont know how I’ll make it up… to you.” 

His eyes widened slightly, but you went on before he could answer, afraid that if you didn’t talk now, you’d never be able to again.

“I know…” You started, cringing internally at how difficult this was for you. Your feelings were so strong, why was it so hard to explain them? “I know I was harsh on you when you came over the first time. You were being kind, and I got defensive. I’m not proud of how I behaved at all,” You admitted. 

“Y/n…”

You stopped him. “Just—let me finish.”

He closed his mouth, but you saw the anxious twitch of his brow.

“You didn’t have to come back. You didn’t owe us anything, not after the way we left things and definitely not after the way I spoke to you. But you did anyways.” You crossed your arms, feeling self-concious. “I didn’t think that I would ever have this again,” You said, gesturing at the things left over from their visit. “I really thought I was going to do this by myself. And that was fine, I’d made my peace with it, but now…”

You paused, your eyes flicking to the picture Hana had drawn with the others—a mess of scribbles that resembled a house, and a group of people standing in front of it. “Now it’s different. And that’s hard for me.”

Heeseung swallowed, as if gathering every ounce of his strength to keep his voice steady. “It’s okay if… if you don’t want me here, y/n.” He held your gaze bravely, but you could tell the idea hurt him. “If this is too much, if you’d rather… I can go—”

“I don’t want you to go.”

He blinked, startled. 

“I know I’ve been guarded, and I’ve been pushing you away. But… but seeing you with her, and with me—it’s made me realize how much I’ve missed this. How much I’ve missed you.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed as if he didn’t quite believe you. You almost smiled. He was so reserved, hands clenched at his sides, braced for what you were going to say. 

“I know I talk a big talk but… I don’t want to do this alone, not if you’re willing to be here. Not if you’re willing to… to be with us. I don’t want you to go.”

“You don’t want me to go.” He said it slowly, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. 

You bit your lip, laughing a little bit at the look on his face. “No, I don’t.” 

Then, his face broke into a grin. His shoulders dropped and he was stepping towards you, pulling you into his chest like he’d been waiting to do it for years. 

And he had. He really had.

His touch was overwhelming. His arms wrapped around you, the heat of his throat warm against your cheek. You buried your face into his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne and the lingering smell of kid that was all over him. All over both of you. 

You pulled away, giddy with nerves and relief. “Happy?”

“Happy,” He breathed. “So… what now?”

“I don’t know… what do you think?”

He quirked his head, lips twisting into a smile. “I think… I’ve been waiting a long time to kiss you again.”

Your heart skipped. “Then what’s stopping you?”

He smiled lazily, like he was half-dreaming, and brushed his nose against yours before pushing his lips onto yours. You melted against him, so happy you could hardly think straight.

Heeseung pushed you back against the counter, his hands on your waist as yours threaded through his hair. 

“I was an asshole,” He mumbled against your mouth. “I’m sorry” 

You shook your head, breathless beneath his lips. “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

Besides, you thought, that was years ago. And the Heeseung in front of you now was not the same one that had left you behind. 

Not by a longshot.

[stwryun]

JUNO — LEE HEESEUNG | part two

ꪆ୧ now playing JUNO by sabrina carpenter ⌢ !

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 : 30.3k

warnings : blowjob semi public ?? , fingering, breast play, sex during pregnancy missionary, cowgirl, against the wall, abortion / termination discussions, anxiety, panic attacks, crying, self-doubt, identity crisis, fear of the future, toxic family dynamics, threats, pregnancy symptoms mentioned nausea, vomiting, fatigue, dizziness, mood swings, heightened libido/sexual needs, and body changes

🗯️ JO's NOTES < 🐻‍❄️ 3 ! : and here it is the long awaited part two, have fun reading >.< also listen to the playlist while reading

“and you didn’t bother telling me?”You looked up at him through tear filled eyes, still crying softly.“I I thought it was better this way,” you whispered, voice breaking. “You don’t have to be involved. I didn’t want to ruin your life or your future with the team or anything. I was going to handle it alone.”

Heeseung ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. The congee he had cooked for you was still sitting forgotten on the kitchen counter, its smell now making you look even sicker. He set the pregnancy test down on the sink counter carefully, as if it might break.He didn’t know what to feel.

Part of him was angry that you had planned to go through this without saying a single word to him. Another part understood your fear he knew how much you hated him, how hard you had tried to pretend that night never happened. But the hurt lingered.

The realization that you were carrying his child and had already decided to end it without giving him any say it stung more than he expected.He crouched down slowly so he was closer to your eye level, though he kept some distance.“You were just going to do it and never tell me?” he asked, voice quieter now, but still carrying that edge of pain. “That’s my kid too, you know.”You didn’t answer. You just cried harder, curling in on yourself.

Heeseung stayed there on the bathroom floor with you, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you. The silence between you was heavy, filled with everything neither of you had said since that night.For the first time since he found the test, he didn’t know what to do next.

Heeseung remained crouched on the cold bathroom floor, the pregnancy test long forgotten somewhere . The two red lines seemed to burn into his vision no matter how many times he blinked. The weight of what they meant pressed down on him heavily, making it hard to breathe normally.

You were sitting right in front of him, knees drawn up to your chest, face buried in your arms as quiet sobs continued to shake your shoulders. Your breathing was ragged, broken by hiccups, and your entire body looked small and fragile under the harsh bathroom light.Heeseung swallowed the lump in his throat. He set the test gently on the edge of the sink, then slowly shifted closer until he was sitting cross legged on the floor beside you.His voice came out quieter than he had ever spoken to you before.

“I support your decision,” he said carefully, choosing every word with caution. “If you really want to end this, then I support it. I won’t fight you on it. But I want you to think again, okay? Don’t make the choice right now while you’re scared and exhausted. Just give yourself a little time to be sure.”You lifted your head slowly. Your eyes were red and swollen, tears still streaming freely down your cheeks. Your voice cracked when you finally spoke.

“I don’t know if I can take the responsibility of a child,” you whispered, the words trembling. “I’m still in school my capstone project is due soon, I have exhibitions I want to curate one day I can’t do this. I’m not ready for any of it. I never asked for this. I never wanted this to happen.”

The raw fear and despair in your voice hit Heeseung harder than he expected. He watched as another wave of tears spilled over, and something inside his chest twisted painfully.Without thinking, he opened his arms.“Come here,” he murmured. You hesitated for only a second before you leaned forward and collapsed against him. The moment his arms wrapped around you, you broke completely. Heavy, gut wrenching sobs tore out of your throat as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, hands clutching desperately at the front of his hoodie.

Heeseung held you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed slow, soothing circles along your spine. He could feel every shudder that ran through your body, every shaky inhale against his shoulder. Your tears soaked through the fabric of his hoodie, warm and wet, but he didn’t pull away even for a second.

This wasn’t the Heeseung who loved teasing you in the hallway.Right now, he was just a boy holding a girl who was falling apart in his arms the same girl who had spent months hating him, and the same girl who was now carrying his child.

“I’ll book the appointment,” he whispered against your hair, his voice low and steady despite the storm of emotions inside him. “I’ll find a good clinic and take you there myself, okay? I’ll be right there with you the entire time in the waiting room, during the consultation, whatever you need. You aren’t alone in this. I promise you that.”

You cried even harder at his words, your fingers tightening in his hoodie as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your sobs echoed softly in the small bathroom, raw and heartbreaking.Heeseung continued holding you, rocking you ever so slightly as he rubbed your back. He pressed his cheek gently against the top of your head, breathing in the faint scent of your shampoo mixed with the salt of your tears.

“I know you’re scared,” he murmured. “I’m scared too. But we’ll figure this out whatever you decide you don’t have to carry it by yourself anymore.”You stayed like that for a long time curled against his chest on the bathroom floor, his arms wrapped securely around you. Your crying gradually slowed into quiet, exhausted sniffles, but you didn’t pull away. For the first time since that reckless night, the wall between the two of you didn’t feel like a barrier anymore.It felt like something you could both lean on.

Heeseung didn’t rush you. He simply held you, letting you cry until your body grew heavy with exhaustion against him. His hand never stopped its gentle motion on your back, offering the only comfort he knew how to give right now.In that quiet, heavy moment, Heeseung wasn’t the campus king or the arrogant basketball captain. He was just Heeseung and for the first time, you allowed yourself to lean on him completely.

The next few days passed in a strange, heavy blur. After that night on your bathroom floor, something between you and Heeseung had quietly shifted. You had cried yourself exhausted in his arms, and he had stayed holding you without any cocky remarks or teasing. When your sobs finally slowed, he helped you back to bed, made sure you drank some water, and only left after you fell asleep.The following morning, he texted you.

Heeseung : Appointment booked. 7th September, 4:00 PM at the women’s health clinic downtown. I’ll drive you there

You stared at the message for a long time, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You wanted to tell him not to bother. That you could handle it alone. But you were too drained, too scared, and too nauseous to argue. So you simply replied

You : okay

The week leading up to the appointment was one of the hardest you had ever experienced.Your symptoms got significantly worse.The nausea was almost constant now. You threw up multiple times a day sometimes so violently that your throat burned afterward. Smells were unbearable even walking past the campus bakery made you gag. The fatigue was bone deep. You fell asleep in lectures twice, and once you had to excuse yourself from a group meeting because the dizziness became too strong.

Your breasts were painfully tender, and you felt emotionally fragile crying over small things like a sad song or a missed bus.Yunjin and Soobin were growing more suspicious.“Babe, you’ve lost weight,” Yunjin said one afternoon, frowning as she looked at you. “And you look exhausted. This isn’t just capstone stress. Tell us what’s really going on.”

Soobin nodded, his usual soft eyes filled with worry. “If you’re sick, we can help. You don’t have to keep saying you’re ‘fine’ when you clearly aren’t.”You forced a tired smile and gave them the same answer you’d been repeating all week.“I’m alright really just a lot on my plate right now. I’ll feel better soon.”They didn’t fully believe you, but they stopped pushing after a while. Still, you could feel their concerned glances every time you excused yourself to the bathroom or declined food.Through all of it, Heeseung showed a side of himself you had never seen before.He texted you every day.

Heeseung : Did you eat anything today?

Heeseung : How are you feeling this morning?

Heeseung : I’m heading to practice. Text me if the nausea gets bad

You had told him multiple times not to worry.

You : You don’t have to do this im fine

You : Please stop checking on me

But Heeseung ignored your protests completely. Every morning, he waited outside your door to walk with you to the university. When you told him it wasn’t necessary, he simply replied, “I’m going the same way anyway,” and continued doing it. In the evenings, he offered to pick you up from the library if you stayed late. You refused most of the time, but on two occasions when the dizziness was especially bad, you quietly accepted.

He also started cooking for you.He would knock on your door in the evenings with containers of simple, gentle food plain rice porridge with ginger, mild chicken soup, steamed vegetables, and light broths that didn’t trigger your nausea. At first, you felt awkward accepting them, but the meals were the only things you could keep down without throwing up immediately afterward.One night, after he brought over a bowl of warm congee, you finally muttered a quiet “Thank you” while sitting at your desk.Heeseung just shrugged, leaning against your doorway.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly. “Just eat.”You watched him leave and felt a confusing swirl of emotions gratitude, guilt, anxiety, and something warmer you didn’t want to name. This was not the loud, cocky Heeseung you had spent months hating. This version was quiet, patient, and surprisingly caring. It made everything feel even more complicated.As the 7th of September drew closer, your anxiety skyrocketed.You kept having second thoughts.

What if I’m making a mistake?

What if I regret this later?

What if I can’t go through with it?

You would lie awake at night, hand resting on your still flat stomach, tears silently sliding down your cheeks. The fear and confusion were overwhelming. On the night before the appointment, Heeseung sent you one last text

Heeseung : I’ll pick you up at 3:30 tomorrow. Try to get some rest. I’m here if you need anything

You stared at the message for a long time, heart heavy with emotions you couldn’t even begin to untangle.You were terrified.You were grateful.And you had no idea what you were going to do.

The 7th of September arrived faster than you wanted.

You had decided to skip all your classes that day. The thought of sitting through lectures while pretending everything was normal felt impossible. Instead, you stayed in your apartment, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, heart racing every time you checked the clock. Anxiety sat heavy in your chest like a stone. Your hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and the nausea was especially bad today though you couldn’t tell if it was from pregnancy symptoms or pure terror.

You barely ate. You barely moved. You just sat there, staring into space, wondering if you were really about to go through with this.At exactly 3:30 PM, a soft knock sounded on your door.You jumped slightly, even though you’d been expecting it. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened the door.

Heeseung stood there, dressed in a simple black hoodie and grey sweatpants. His hair was still slightly damp, like he’d showered after practice — or maybe he hadn’t gone at all. His expression was calm, but his eyes held a quiet seriousness.“I skipped practice today,” he said simply, as if it was no big deal. “Ready to go?”

You nodded wordlessly, grabbing your bag and stepping out. The walk to his car was silent. The ride to the clinic was even quieter.You sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, but your hands betrayed your nerves. You kept fidgeting twisting your fingers, picking at your nails, clenching and unclenching your fists in your lap. The anxiety was eating you alive.

Heeseung noticed after a few minutes.Without saying anything, he reached into the glove compartment, pulled out a small star shaped squishy toy, and held it out to you.“Here,” he said gently. “Squeeze this instead of hurting your hands.”You looked at the soft, pastel yellow star for a second before slowly taking it from him. It was surprisingly soft and satisfying to press. You mumbled a quiet, “Thank you,” barely audible, then started squeezing it rhythmically in your lap.

The small gesture made your throat feel tight.

For a while, the car was silent again, only the low hum of the engine filling the space. Then Heeseung spoke, keeping his voice soft and casual, clearly trying to distract you.“How are you feeling today?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Nauseous tired scared.”He nodded, eyes fixed on the road. “That’s understandable. You don’t have to be strong right now, you know. It’s okay to be scared.”

You squeezed the star toy harder. After a moment, you asked quietly, “Did you really skip practice for this?”“Yeah,” he answered without hesitation. “Coach wasn’t happy, but I told him it was important. He’ll get over it.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you stayed quiet. Heeseung didn’t push. Instead, he continued with light, careful small talk asking about your capstone project, telling you a harmless story about Beomgyu messing up a drill during practice yesterday, even mentioning how the weather was supposed to cool down next week. His voice stayed steady and low, never teasing, never cocky just there.

Before you knew it, the car slowed down.

You blinked and looked up. The clinic building stood in front of you modern, discreet, with a small sign that made your stomach drop. You hadn’t even realized how fast the drive had gone.Heeseung parked the car smoothly and turned off the engine. For a moment, neither of you moved. The silence returned, heavier this time.You kept squeezing the star toy, knuckles turning white.

Heeseung turned to look at you, his expression gentle but serious.“We’re here,” he said softly. “Whenever you’re ready I’ll go in with you. Or I can wait in the car. Whatever you want.”Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. The reality of why you were here hit you all over again. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you forced them back.You whispered, almost to yourself “I don’t know if I can do this”

Heeseung didn’t reply right away. He simply reached over and gently placed his hand on top of yours, the one still squeezing the star toy grounding you for a moment.“You don’t have to decide everything right now,” he said. “Let’s just go inside first. One step at a time.”You nodded shakily, still clutching the squishy star like a lifeline.The appointment was finally here.

And you had no idea what you were going to do.You and Heeseung walked into the clinic together.

The moment the automatic doors slid open, a wave of cool, sterile air hit you. Your heart was hammering so hard you felt dizzy. Heeseung stayed close beside you, not touching you, but near enough that you could feel his presence like a quiet anchor.The waiting room was brighter and softer than you expected. Soft beige walls, comfortable chairs, and gentle lighting. But what really hit you were the other women.

Several pregnant women were sitting around the room. One was gently rubbing her rounded belly while smiling down at her phone. Another was showing ultrasound pictures to the woman beside her, both of them laughing softly with pure joy on their faces. A third woman, quite far along, was resting her hands protectively over her bump, looking peaceful and content.You froze for a second, taking it all in.

These women looked happy excited ready.

You, on the other hand, felt like you were walking toward something terrifying. Your hand tightened around the star-shaped squishy toy Heeseung had given you in the car, squeezing it hard.Heeseung glanced at you but said nothing. He simply stayed by your side as you both approached the reception desk.

You cleared your throat, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi… I have an appointment at 4:00. My name is [Your Name].”The receptionist smiled kindly and checked her computer. “Yes, I see you here. Please fill out this short form and have a seat. The doctor will call you shortly.”You quickly filled out the paperwork with shaky hands while Heeseung waited beside you. Once you handed it back, the receptionist nodded politely.“You can wait over there. It won’t be long.”

You both moved to two empty seats in the corner. The moment you sat down, your leg started bouncing anxiously. You kept squeezing the star squishy toy over and over, the soft pressure somehow helping you stay grounded. Heeseung sat quietly next to you, elbows resting on his knees, saying nothing but staying close.The silence between you two was heavy but not uncomfortable.

Every few seconds, your eyes would drift back to the pregnant women around the room. One of them laughed softly as she showed her partner an ultrasound photo. Another woman caressed her belly lovingly while reading a pregnancy magazine.

You felt a sharp pang in your chest.They look so sure so happy.You, on the other hand, felt nothing but fear and confusion.

Your hands were trembling again. You squeezed the star toy even harder.Heeseung noticed. He leaned slightly closer, voice low so only you could hear.

“You’re doing okay,” he murmured. “Just breathe.”

You didn’t reply. You just kept squeezing the toy.

A few minutes later, a door opened and a nurse stepped out.“[Your Full Name]?”You stood up on unsteady legs. Heeseung rose with you.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked quietly.You hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. You didn’t think you could do this completely alone.The nurse led both of you down a short hallway and into a clean, warmly lit consultation room. A woman in her mid-forties with kind eyes and a gentle smile stood up from behind the desk as you entered.

“Hello,” she said warmly, extending her hand. “I’m Dr. Kim. It’s nice to meet you.”You shook her hand weakly. “Hi I’m [Your Name].”

Dr. Kim’s gaze shifted to Heeseung with the same kind expression. “And you are…?”“Heeseung,” he answered. “I’m here with her.”The doctor nodded understandingly, not pressing for more details. She gestured for both of you to sit down on the chairs in front of her desk.

Once you were seated, Dr. Kim folded her hands on the desk and looked at you with gentle patience.

“So, tell me what brings you here today,” she said softly. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”You clutched the star squishy toy tightly in your lap, staring down at it. Your throat felt tight, and your eyes were already burning with unshed tears.You opened your mouth, but it took a few seconds before any words came out.

“I… I took a pregnancy test last week,” you whispered. “It was positive. I’m… I think I want to terminate it.”

Dr. Kim nodded calmly, her expression full of understanding and zero judgment.“I see,” she said gently. “Thank you for trusting me with that. We can talk about all your options today. First, let me ask how have you been feeling physically? Any symptoms?”

You took a shaky breath and started listing them the constant nausea, vomiting, fatigue, dizziness, tender breasts. Dr. Kim listened carefully, occasionally nodding and writing notes.

Heeseung sat silently beside you the entire time, a quiet but steady presence.Dr. Kim’s voice was calm and professional, yet warm in a way that felt intentionally soothing. She leaned forward slightly on her desk, folding her hands as she looked at you with gentle eyes.

“Since you mentioned your symptoms and the positive test, I’d like to perform a quick ultrasound today. This is just to confirm the pregnancy, see how far along you are, and check for a heartbeat. It’s completely external no discomfort. We’ll use this wand on your lower abdomen. Would that be alright with you?”

You nodded slowly, your throat too tight to speak properly. Heeseung stayed quiet beside you, but you felt him shift slightly closer in his chair.

Dr. Kim led you behind a pale blue privacy curtain to the exam bed. The paper sheet crinkled loudly under you as you lay down. She asked you to lift your shirt just below your ribs. The gel she squeezed onto your skin was shockingly cold, making you flinch.“Sorry about that,” she said with a small smile. “It’ll warm up soon.”

She placed the ultrasound wand on your lower belly and began moving it slowly, pressing gently. The screen beside the bed flickered to life with gray, blurry images. Dr. Kim adjusted the angle a few times, her eyes focused.You stared at the monitor, barely breathing.After a few moments of silence, Dr. Kim’s expression softened.“Here we are,” she said gently. “This is the gestational sac and right in the center do you see that little flicker?”

She pointed to a tiny, rhythmic pulsing on the screen.

“That’s the baby’s heartbeat.”The moment you saw it that small, steady flicker of life something inside your chest cracked wide open. Your vision blurred instantly as hot tears flooded your eyes. A choked sob escaped your throat before you could stop it. The tears spilled over, running down the sides of your face and into your hair.

“I can’t do this” you whispered, voice trembling. Then louder, more broken, “I can’t do this I can’t”

Dr. Kim immediately lifted the wand and set it aside. The screen went dark.Heeseung was already moving. He stood up so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. In one smooth motion, he was at your side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up into a tight embrace. You buried your face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably as your hands clutched the front of his hoodie.

“Hey shh, it’s okay,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thick. One of his hands rubbed slow, steady circles on your back while the other cradled the back of your head. “Breathe. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

You shook your head against him, crying harder.

“I want the baby ” you sobbed, the words spilling out between shaky breaths. “I thought I could do it but I can’t… I can’t get rid of it. That’s my baby. I can’t do this to my baby”

Heeseung held you even tighter. You felt his body tremble slightly, and when you pulled back just enough to look at him, you saw tears streaming silently down his own cheeks. His eyes were red, his jaw tight, but he didn’t try to hide it.“You don’t have to force yourself to do this,” he whispered, voice cracking. He gently wiped some of your tears away with his thumb. “Not to yourself and not to the baby. I’m here. I’m right here, okay? You’re not doing this alone.”

Fresh sobs wracked your body. Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, his own tears falling onto your shirt as he continued speaking, soft and raw.

“We will have this baby,” he said, the words heavy with emotion. “I will do everything and anything for you and the baby. I promise. Whatever you need I’ll be there. Every appointment, every late night, every single thing. You’re not alone anymore. I’ve got you both of you.”

You cried into his shoulder, overwhelmed by fear, guilt, relief, and a thousand other emotions you couldn’t name. Heeseung held you through all of it, rocking you gently, his arms strong and steady around you even as his own tears continued to fall.Dr. Kim stayed respectfully quiet for a long moment, giving you both space. When your crying finally quieted into soft sniffles, she spoke gently.

“There’s no rush to decide anything today. If you’d like to continue with the pregnancy, we can start discussing prenatal care, vitamins, and scheduling your next scans. You can take all the time you need.”

You stayed pressed against Heeseung’s chest, exhausted but no longer feeling completely alone.

For the first time since you saw those two pink lines, the future felt a little less terrifying.Dr. Kim gave you both a moment to collect yourselves after your breakdown. She handed you a tissue box and waited patiently until your sobs quieted into soft sniffles. Heeseung never let go of you again one arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb gently brushing your arm in soothing strokes. When you finally calmed down enough to sit up properly, Dr. Kim spoke in a gentle, professional tone. “Since you’ve decided to continue with the pregnancy, let me walk you through what comes next.”

She turned the monitor slightly so both of you could see it better and pointed at the image again.“You’re approximately six weeks along. Everything looks good so far the heartbeat is strong. We’ll schedule a more detailed scan around 8 to 10 weeks to check development. For now, I’m going to prescribe prenatal vitamins. You need to start taking them daily they’re very important for the baby’s neural development.”

She slid a prescription paper across the desk.

“Folic acid is especially crucial in the first trimester. I’ll also recommend a gentle prenatal multivitamin. Try to eat small, frequent meals if the nausea is bad. Ginger tea, crackers, and hydration will help. Avoid raw fish, unpasteurized dairy, and limit caffeine.”Dr. Kim looked at both of you warmly.“I know this is a big adjustment. If you experience severe vomiting, dizziness, or bleeding, come back immediately or go to the ER. I’d like to see you again in two weeks for a follow up. Do you have any questions?”

You shook your head, still overwhelmed. Heeseung, however, spoke up for the first time since your emotional outburst.“What should she avoid? Like food, activities, anything?” His voice was steady but serious.Dr. Kim answered patiently, explaining everything in detail while Heeseung listened carefully, nodding and even pulling out his phone to take notes. You watched him quietly, still surprised by how seriously he was taking all of this.

Before you left, Dr. Kim printed out a small ultrasound picture and handed it to you with a kind smile.

“Here’s your baby’s first picture. Congratulations.”

You took the small black and white image with trembling fingers. The tiny bean shaped spot with that flickering heartbeat was now printed in your hand. You stared at it, throat tight with emotion.

Heeseung helped you stand up. His hand stayed gently on your lower back as you both thanked Dr. Kim and left the room.

The car ride home was quiet. You clutched the ultrasound picture tightly in your lap, staring down at it the entire time. Heeseung drove carefully, one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally flexing like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy. Now that you had decided to keep the baby, the reality of the situation began sinking in for both of you.

Heeseung was going to be a permanent part of your life forever. No more avoiding him in the hallway. No more pretending that night never happened. This baby would tie the two of you together whether you liked it or not. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His jaw was tense, eyes focused on the road, but there was something softer in his expression something you had never seen before.

What you didn’t know was how deeply this was already affecting him.Heeseung’s heart felt like it was going to burst. From the moment he saw that tiny heartbeat on the screen, something inside him had shifted irreversibly. This baby was his baby it already meant more to him than he could put into words. Despite all the pressure from his father, despite his complicated life and uncertain future in basketball, the thought of this child filled him with a fierce, protective kind of love he had never experienced before.

He already loved this baby.More than he imagined was possible.The car finally pulled into the apartment building parking lot. Heeseung turned off the engine but didn’t move to get out. The silence stretched for a few more seconds.Then he spoke, voice low and serious.“We need to sit down and talk when we get back.”You looked at him, still clutching the ultrasound picture. Your voice came out small.“…Okay.”

Heeseung nodded once, then got out of the car and walked around to open your door. He stayed close as you both walked up to your floor, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you.For the first time, the two of you were about to have a real conversation.And the beginning of whatever this new future was going to look like.“Let’s talk at your place,” he said softly. “If that’s okay with you.”

You nodded. Your legs felt heavy as you both walked up to your apartment. The ultrasound picture was still clutched tightly in your hand. Once inside, you kicked off your shoes and sat down on the couch, exhausted. Heeseung closed the door gently behind him and sat on the armchair directly across from you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.For a few seconds, the silence was thick.

Then, without any warning or buildup, Heeseung looked you straight in the eyes and said “Marry me.”

You stared at him, completely frozen. The words didn’t register at first. When they finally did, a shocked, disbelieving laugh escaped your lips.

“…What?” You let out another nervous laugh, shaking your head. “Heeseung, are you serious right now?”He didn’t smile. His expression remained dead serious, almost solemn. “I’m serious,” he repeated. “Marry me.”

You blinked rapidly, still trying to process what he had just said. Your heart was racing, confusion and shock swirling inside your chest. “Why would you want to marry me?” you asked, voice rising with disbelief. “Heeseung we don’t even like each other. We’ve spent the last few months hating each other. You used to call me Miss Morals and enjoy annoying the hell out of me. Why are you saying this?”

Heeseung didn’t look away. His gaze stayed steady on yours.“Because you’re carrying my child,” he answered plainly. “This baby is mine too. I don’t want to be a part time dad. I want to be there every single day. So marry me.”You let out a shaky breath and shook your head, tears already pricking at your eyes again.

“That isn’t how it works, Heeseung,” you said, voice cracking. “Marriage isn’t something you do just because there’s a baby. It requires trust and love and actually knowing the other person. We don’t have any of that. We don’t even know each other. Not really. All we’ve ever done is argue and avoid one another.”

Something painful flashed across Heeseung’s face a deep, raw hurt that made his eyes darken and his jaw tighten. He looked away for a second, swallowing hard, before forcing himself to meet your eyes again.

“We can make it work if we try,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “People build marriages on less. We can learn to get along. For the baby’s sake.”You felt your chest tighten. The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over.“What if I haven’t met my person yet?” you whispered, voice trembling. “What if I meet the person I’m actually meant to be with while we’re married? What if you do? I don’t want to be bound to you, Heeseung. Not like this. Not when we started all of this hating each other.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you saw it again that same flash of hurt, deeper this time. Heeseung’s shoulders dropped slightly. He looked genuinely wounded, like your rejection had cut him far more than you expected.He stayed silent for a long moment, staring at the floor. Then he let out a slow, tired breath.“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I understand.”

You frowned, confused by the clear pain on his face. You didn’t understand why he looked so hurt. You two had spent months being enemies. He used to thrive on annoying you. So why did your refusal to marry him seem to affect him this badly?Heeseung stood up slowly, running a hand through his hair.“I should go,” he muttered. “You need rest.”He paused at the door for a second, back facing you.

“I’m still going to be here,” he added without turning around. “For the baby. Whether we get married or not I’m not going anywhere.”Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.You stayed seated on the couch, ultrasound picture still in your lap, feeling more lost and confused than ever before.The silence after Heeseung left the room didn’t last long. Barely ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on your door again. When you opened it, he was standing there, looking exhausted but determined.

“Can I come back in?” he asked quietly.You nodded and stepped aside.Heeseung walked in and sat on the same armchair as before. You returned to the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. The ultrasound picture was still lying on the coffee table between you two.Heeseung rubbed his face with both hands before speaking.“Look even if we’re not getting married right now,” he said slowly, “we need to at least pretend to date, right? For the baby. So people don’t ask too many questions. So it doesn’t look like some random hookup.”

You thought about it for a moment, then gave a small, tired nod.“Yeah that makes sense.”Heeseung looked relieved. “Okay good.”He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “And about money I’m going to take care of all the expenses. Doctor visits, vitamins, food, whatever you need yours too you don’t have to worry about that.”You immediately frowned and sat up straighter.“I can take care of myself, Heeseung. I’ve been doing it this whole time.”

“I know you can,” he said gently but firmly. “But you’re carrying my child. Let me do this please I want to.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but the exhaustion in your body and the look in his eyes made you close it. You eventually gave a small, reluctant nod.“…Fine.”Heeseung looked a little more relaxed after that. Then you asked the question that had been weighing on you.

“Are we going to tell everyone that I’m pregnant?”

Heeseung shook his head slowly.“It’s totally up to you,” he said. “You decide who you want to tell and when. I won’t say anything to anyone unless you’re okay with it.”You thought about it for a while, fingers tracing the edge of the ultrasound picture.“Soobin and Yunjin,” you said quietly. “I want to tell them. They’ve been really worried about me. And you can tell your close friends. Beomgyu, Jake, Jay and your coach, I suppose. They’ll probably notice eventually anyway.”

Heeseung nodded. “That sounds fair.”You hesitated, then continued.“What about our parents? We should let them know, right?”Heeseung’s expression changed slightly. He looked more tense.“Are your parents going to be okay with this?” he asked carefully.You gave a small, tired smile.“Yeah I think so. My mom and dad have always supported me no matter what. They might be shocked at first, but once they hear they’re getting a grandbaby they’ll probably be over the moon. They’ve always wanted grandchildren.”

Heeseung smiled faintly at that, but it didn’t reach his eyes. When you looked at him expectantly, he let out a long breath and leaned back in the chair.

“I don’t know how mine will react,” he admitted, voice quieter. “My dad he’s complicated. If he finds out I got someone pregnant while I’m still trying to make it to the NBA” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

You watched him carefully. For the first time, you saw the weight he was carrying the pressure, the expectations, the fear of disappointing his family.

The conversation settled into a heavy but honest silence. So many things were still uncertain. Your future, your relationship (or lack of one), how you were going to navigate this together.But at least now, you were talking. After the heavy conversation, Heeseung stood up slowly, running a hand through his hair. The air in your apartment felt thick with everything that had just been said and everything that still remained unsaid.

He looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but tired.“I should go,” he said quietly. “You need to rest. It’s been a really long day.”You nodded, too drained to argue. Heeseung walked toward the door, then paused with his hand on the handle. “Take care of yourself, okay?” he said, glancing back at you. His voice was gentle, almost hesitant. “Eat something light if you can drink water text me if the nausea gets bad or if you need anything. I’m right next door.”

You gave him a small, tired nod. “Yeah I will.”He lingered for another second, like he wanted to say more, but eventually just offered a faint smile and left, closing the door softly behind him.The moment the lock clicked, the silence in your apartment felt suffocating.You were alone.You curled up on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest and hugging them tightly. The ultrasound picture was still on the coffee table, staring back at you. You reached out and picked it up, tracing the tiny bean-shaped spot with your fingertip.

Tears blurred your vision again.Now came the hardest part figuring out how to tell the people you loved.

Your mind immediately went to your parents. Strangely, that felt almost easy.Your mom and dad had always been incredibly supportive. They had raised you to be independent, but they’d also made it clear that no matter what happened in life mistakes, heartbreaks, unexpected turns they would stand by you. You could already imagine your mom’s initial shock turning into tears of joy once she processed that she was going to be a grandmother.

Your dad would probably go quiet at first, then start asking a million practical questions while secretly being over the moon.Telling them felt scary, but safe. You knew they would love this baby. They would support you no matter what path you chose.But Yunjin and Soobin?That felt terrifying.They were your best friends. They had watched you complain about Heeseung for months. They knew how much you couldn’t stand him. They had seen you avoid him like the plague. How were you supposed to tell them that you had gotten drunk at a party, slept with the neighbor you hated, and were now keeping his baby?

Yunjin would probably scream then cry then demand to know every single detail while spiraling with worry. Soobin he would be quiet at first, shocked, but then his concern would kick in. He would worry about your health, your future, your capstone, your dreams. You hated the idea of disappointing them or making them feel like they had failed to notice how much you were struggling.You buried your face in your knees, letting out a shaky breath.

How do you even start that conversation?Hey guys, remember how I disappeared at Sunghoon’s party? Yeah I slept with Heeseung. And now I’m pregnant.

The thought alone made you want to crawl under the blankets and never come out.You placed a protective hand over your stomach, still flat but no longer feeling empty.

This baby was real now. You had chosen to keep it. And that choice was going to change everything your friendship with Yunjin and Soobin, your relationship (or lack of one) with Heeseung, your entire future.

You stayed curled up on the couch for a long time, ultrasound picture still in your other hand, heart heavy with fear and quiet determination.

Telling your parents felt like something you could survive.Telling your best friends felt like walking into an emotional battlefield.But you knew you couldn’t keep this secret forever. Not from the people who loved you most.

The next morning, you woke up to soft, hesitant knocks on your door.Your eyes fluttered open, still heavy from crying and restless sleep. The ultrasound picture was lying on your pillow beside you you must have fallen asleep clutching it. Your body felt sore, your eyes puffy, and your hair was a complete mess. The nausea was already simmering in your stomach, a cruel reminder that nothing about this was a dream.

The knocking came again gentle, almost careful.You dragged yourself out of bed, wrapped a loose cardigan over your oversized sleep shirt, and padded to the door. When you opened it, Heeseung was standing there.

He looked freshly showered, wearing a simple black hoodie and sweatpants, hair still slightly damp. In his hands was a paper bag and two cups of what smelled like warm tea.The moment he saw you messy hair, swollen eyes, tired face you suddenly became painfully self conscious. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to smooth your hair with one hand, cheeks heating up.Heeseung’s expression softened.

“I got you breakfast,” he said quietly, lifting the bag a little. “Something light. Ginger tea and plain rice porridge with a bit of egg. Thought it might help with the nausea.” He paused, looking almost nervous. “Can I come in and eat with you?”You hesitated for a second, then nodded.“Yeah okay. Just give me a minute to freshen up.”

Heeseung gave you a small nod and stepped inside as you retreated to the bathroom. You quickly brushed your teeth, splashed cold water on your face, tied your hair into a messy bun, and changed into a loose sweater and comfortable pants. When you came back out, Heeseung had already set everything up on your small dining table.Two bowls of warm porridge, the ginger tea, and even a small side of fresh fruit he must have brought along. He was waiting for you, standing awkwardly by the table.

You sat down across from him. The silence was soft, not uncomfortable.You both started eating slowly. The porridge was gentle on your stomach warm, lightly seasoned, and easy to keep down. For the first time in days, you actually managed a few proper spoonfuls without feeling like you’d throw up immediately.

After a few minutes of quiet eating, Heeseung spoke.

“I can drop you at university every morning,” he said, eyes on his bowl. “I’ll adjust my practice schedule if I need to. But I can’t always promise I’ll be able to pick you up in the evenings because of team practice and meetings. Still I want to take you in the mornings at least.”You looked up at him, spoon paused halfway to your mouth.“You really don’t have to do that, Heeseung. It’s not necessary.”He shook his head gently but firmly.

“It is necessary,” he replied. “You’re carrying my child. Taking care of you and the life growing inside you that’s my responsibility now. Whether we’re together or not.”His words hung in the air between you. There was no cockiness in his tone, no arrogance, just quiet determination. You stared at him for a long moment, a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest, gratitude, confusion and fear.And something warmer you weren’t ready to name yet.You looked back down at your bowl, stirring the porridge slowly.

“…Thank you,” you whispered.Heeseung gave you a small, almost shy smile the softest you had ever seen from him.“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “Just let me help. Okay?”You nodded, too tired and overwhelmed to argue.For the rest of breakfast, you both ate in relatively comfortable silence. Every now and then Heeseung would glance at you, making sure you were actually eating the quiet felt new different not quite friendly yet.But no longer hostile.

You both finished breakfast in a surprisingly comfortable silence. The porridge had settled well in your stomach, and for the first time in days, you didn’t feel like you needed to run to the bathroom immediately after eating. Heeseung cleared the bowls and cleaned up without being asked, moving around your small kitchen like he was trying not to overstep.

When he was done, he turned to you.“I’ll wait for you downstairs in my car,” he said gently. “Take your time getting ready. No rush.”

You nodded, still a little dazed from everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Heeseung gave you one last look soft, almost careful before heading out and closing the door quietly behind him. As soon as he left, you hurried to get dressed. You chose something comfortable: an oversized hoodie, loose jeans, and sneakers. You brushed your hair into a simple ponytail and splashed some water on your face, trying to look at least a little presentable. Your hands were still shaking slightly as you grabbed your bag and the ultrasound picture (which you tucked safely into your notebook).

When you stepped outside, Heeseung’s car was waiting right in front of the building. You slid into the passenger seat, and he gave you a small smile before pulling out of the parking lot.The drive to university started off quiet, but Heeseung eventually broke the silence.“So…” he started, glancing at you. “I realized I don’t actually know much about you. Other than the fact that you hate loud music and call me an entitled asshole.”

You let out a soft, surprised laugh despite yourself.

Heeseung’s lips curved into a gentle smirk. “What do you like? Favorite food? Favorite artist? Anything.”

You thought for a moment, squeezing the star shaped squishy toy he had given you yesterday, which was still in your hoodie pocket.

“I like quiet places,” you said. “Museums, art galleries, bookstores with big windows. I love matcha, but lately it makes me nauseous so maybe not right now. I like soft music acoustic stuff and I really love curating imagining how paintings and sculptures would look together in a room. It’s calming.”Heeseung listened attentively, nodding.“What about you?” you asked, surprising yourself by actually being curious. “What do you like when you’re not being loud and annoying?”

He chuckled lightly. “Basketball, obviously. But I also like late night drives. And ramyun the kind that makes your nose run. I’m terrible at drawing, but I like watching you sketch when you’re focused. You get this little crease between your eyebrows.”You glanced at him, cheeks warming. The conversation flowed easier than expected. He asked about your favorite movies, what kind of exhibitions you dreamed of curating one day, and what you hated most about university (early morning lectures and group projects with lazy people).

You teased him lightly about his loud parties, and he admitted that he sometimes turned the music up just to see if you’d come banging on his door.By the time he pulled into the university parking lot, you were both surprised at how easily the conversation had come.But the moment you stepped out of his car, reality hit you like a truck.Everyone was staring.

Students walking by slowed down. A group of girls near the entrance openly gawked. Whispers started almost immediately. You were very aware of how it looked you, leaving Heeseung’s car early in the morning, him leaning over to say something to you before you closed the door.

Your face burned with embarrassment. This was a bad idea a very bad idea.You didn’t even thank him. You just lowered your head, pulled your hood up, and walked away quickly, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the ground. You could feel hundreds of eyes on your back as you hurried toward the main building.

Heeseung watched you go, his expression unreadable. He stayed parked for a few extra seconds before driving off to find a spot.

You kept your head down the entire way to your first class, heart racing, already regretting how public this was becoming.The secret was no longer just yours and his.And campus was about to get very interested in the sudden shift between the girl who hated Lee Heeseung and the basketball captain who was now driving her to university.

Your heart was still pounding wildly as you hurried across campus toward the Art History lecture hall. Every few steps, you felt like someone was staring at you. Whispers seemed to follow you like shadows “Was that Heeseung’s car?”, “Did you see them together?”, “I thought she hated him?” making your skin crawl with embarrassment and anxiety.You kept your head down, hood pulled low over your face, walking as fast as your tired legs would allow without breaking into a run.

The ultrasound picture hidden safely inside your notebook felt like it weighed a ton in your bag. By the time you pushed open the door to the lecture hall, your breathing was slightly ragged and a fresh wave of nausea was threatening to rise.Yunjin and Soobin were already in your usual seats middle row, near the window. The moment they saw you approaching, their expressions shifted.Yunjin’s eyes widened dramatically. “Oh my god, what happened to you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or ten ghosts.”

Soobin turned in his seat, his gentle face immediately filling with concern. “Are you okay? You’re really pale.”

You forced a weak, tired smile as you dropped into the empty seat between them, trying your best to look normal even though your hands were still trembling slightly.“I’m fine,” you said, voice quieter than usual. “I was just running late this morning. Rushed here from the other side of campus.”Soobin glanced at his watch, then back at you with a small frown. “We still have like fifteen minutes before class starts though.”

You froze for a split second, heart skipping. Your mind scrambled for an excuse.

“Yeah I know,” you mumbled, quickly pulling out your notebook and flipping through the pages as if you were looking for something important. “I thought I was way later than I actually was. My brain’s been all over the place lately with the capstone deadline.”

Yunjin wasn’t convinced. She leaned closer, studying your face like a detective. “Are you sure that’s it? You’ve been acting weird for weeks now. Disappearing, not replying to texts, looking exhausted every time we see you”

You swallowed hard and kept your eyes fixed on your notes, refusing to meet their worried gazes.“I’m alright, really,” you insisted, forcing another small smile. “Just been super busy and stressed. You know how it is with this project.”Before Yunjin could push further, Soobin spoke up again, his tone soft but clearly concerned.“You didn’t reply to any of our messages yesterday evening or night,” he said. “We were both really worried. Yunjin was about to go knock on your door at midnight.”

Your chest tightened. You had seen the string of worried texts from both of them asking if you were okay, if you needed anything, if something was wrong. You had read them all but couldn’t bring yourself to answer.“I was just really busy,” you repeated, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “Got caught up with work and forgot to check my phone. Sorry for making you guys worry.”

Yunjin opened her mouth again, clearly ready to interrogate you more, but right at that moment, the professor walked into the lecture hall carrying his usual stack of papers and laptop. The room gradually quieted down as he set up at the front.“Alright, everyone. Let’s dive straight into today’s topic the evolution of museum curation practices in the late 19th century…”You let out a silent breath of relief as the lecture began. You kept your head down, pretending to take diligent notes while your mind continued to spiral.

The ultrasound picture hidden in your bag felt like it was burning a hole through your notebook. Heeseung’s words from last night and this morning kept replaying in your head. The weight of your new reality pressed down on you harder with every passing minute.Yunjin kept throwing concerned glances your way throughout the class. Soobin, ever observant, stayed quiet but you could feel his worried eyes on you from time to time.

You knew you couldn’t keep dodging them forever.

But for now, as the professor’s voice filled the room, you clung to this temporary escape, squeezing the star shaped squishy toy hidden in your hoodie pocket for comfort. The lecture hall felt unusually stuffy today. You tried your best to focus on the professor’s voice as he discussed 19th century museum practices, but your mind kept drifting. Your phone vibrated quietly in your lap for the third time. You discreetly glanced down, hiding the screen from Yunjin and Soobin.

Heeseung : Hey, just checking in. How are you feeling right now? Nausea any better?

You stared at the message for a few seconds, then typed back with slightly shaky fingers.

You : I’m okay still a bit nauseous but it’s manageable

Not even a minute later, another message popped up.

Heeseung : Good. What do you feel like eating for dinner tonight? I’ll make something light that won’t upset your stomach. Maybe porridge again? Or soup?

You bit your lip, thinking. The idea of him cooking for you again felt strangely comforting, even if it also made everything feel more complicated.

You : I’m not sure. Anything is fine, really I don’t have much appetite these days

His reply came quickly, as if he had been waiting.

Heeseung : Alright. I’ll go with mild chicken porridge with ginger and some steamed vegetables on the side. Easy to digest. Let me know if you crave anything specific, okay?

You read the message twice. A small, unconscious smile crept onto your lips without you realizing it. The simple thoughtfulness behind his texts remembering what your body could handle right now felt unexpectedly warm. Your thumb hovered over the screen as you considered how to reply.Yunjin, who had been side eyeing you the entire time, suddenly leaned over and whispered loudly enough for Soobin to hear, “Why are you smiling at your phone like that? You look suspiciously happy for someone who’s been acting like a zombie for weeks.”

You startled and quickly locked your screen, shoving the phone into your bag.“It’s nothing,” you muttered, avoiding both of their curious gazes. “Just a funny meme I saw.”Yunjin raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “A meme? Since when do memes make you smile like you just won the lottery?”Soobin chuckled softly beside you but didn’t push. Still, you could feel both of them watching you more closely for the rest of the lecture.

When the final class of the day finally ended, you packed your things slowly, hoping the crowd in the hallway would thin out. But the moment the three of you stepped out of the lecture hall into the bustling corridor, you knew something was wrong.

Eyes were everywhere.Students who usually walked past without a second glance were now openly staring. A group of girls near the notice board pulled out their phones as you passed. Whispers rippled through the hallway like a wave. Someone even pointed discreetly in your direction.

Yunjin noticed immediately and linked her arm with yours. “Okay, what the hell is going on? Did we suddenly become celebrities overnight?”Soobin moved to your other side, creating a small protective barrier. “It does feel like we’re in one of those high school drama scenes where everyone turns to look at the main characters,” he joked lightly, though his voice held clear concern. “Did you do something scandalous without telling us?”

You kept your head down, cheeks burning with embarrassment. You knew exactly why they were staring. The news of you getting out of Heeseung’s car this morning had clearly spread like wildfire across campus.You didn’t respond to their teasing. You just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

Just as you turned the corner toward the main exit, Soobin’s phone buzzed loudly. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression changed instantly from amused to shocked.

“Uh… guys?” His voice was unusually serious. “You really need to see this.”He turned the phone toward you and Yunjin.It was a notification from Decelis Confessions the infamous anonymous campus Twitter account that loved stirring drama.The post had already exploded with likes, retweets, and comments in a very short time.

Decelis Confessions : “Plot twist of the semester 😳

Spotted this morning basketball captain Lee Heeseung personally dropping off the girl who has publicly hated him for months. They looked pretty cozy getting out of his car together. What happened to ‘I can’t stand him’? 👀

Picture attached.”

Below the caption was a clear, well timed photo of you stepping out of Heeseung’s car this morning. Your face was visible enough for people to recognize you, even with your hood partially up. The comments were already spiraling out of control

• “Wait… wasn’t she the one who always complained about his parties???”

• “Enemies to lovers speedrun 💀”

• “Heeseung finally got the girl who hated him the most”

• “This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all semester”

Yunjin’s eyes widened dramatically as she read it. “What the actual fuck is this?!”Soobin looked at you with deep concern, his usual calm expression cracking. “Is this real? You came to school with Heeseung today?”You felt your stomach drop violently. The nausea you had managed to keep under control all day came rushing back with full force. Your hands started trembling as you stared at the post, frozen in the middle of the busy hallway while more students walked past, whispering and checking their phones.

The secret was no longer contained itwas public.

And it was spreading faster than you could ever hope to control.The three of you stood frozen in the middle of the busy hallway, Soobin’s phone still held out between you. The Decelis Confessions post glowed brightly on the screen, the photo of you stepping out of Heeseung’s car crystal clear for everyone to see. The comments were flooding in so fast the numbers were climbing by the second.Yunjin’s mouth fell open. “This is you this is literally you this morning.” Soobin looked at you with wide, concerned eyes. “You came with Heeseung today?”

You felt your face burn with embarrassment. The nausea that had been simmering all day surged violently, and you had to swallow hard to keep it down. Your hands were trembling as you clutched the strap of your bag.You forced yourself to speak, voice shaky but trying to sound casual.“He just dropped me because I was running late this morning,” you said quickly, repeating the excuse you had given them earlier. “That’s all. I told you guys I was in a rush.”

Yunjin wasn’t convinced. She crossed her arms, staring at you intensely. “Running late? Since when does Lee Heeseung play taxi for someone he supposedly hates?”

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, avoiding their gazes. The whispers around you were getting louder. More people were stopping to look.“I… I have something to tell you guys,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible over the hallway noise. “But not right now. I’ll tell you when the time is right. I promise.”Yunjin’s eyes narrowed. She stepped closer, refusing to let you dodge this.“No way you can’t drop a bomb like that and then say ‘later.’ What is going on? First you disappear at the party, then you look like death for two weeks, now you’re getting out of Heeseung’s car like it’s normal? Spill it.”

Soobin placed a gentle hand on Yunjin’s arm, trying to calm her down.“Yunjin,” he said softly but firmly, “she said she’ll tell us when she’s ready. We should respect that. She’s clearly going through something.”

Yunjin huffed, clearly frustrated, but she backed off a little. Still, she couldn’t resist one last sarcastic jab.

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Don’t tell me you’re secretly dating Heeseung now and you’re pregnant with his child or something.”She laughed at her own ridiculous joke.You, however, froze.

The words hit way too close to home. Your stomach twisted violently. For a split second, you felt like the entire hallway was spinning. You let out an awkward, strained laugh too loud, too forced trying desperately to play it off.“Haha… yeah, right,” you managed, the sound hollow even to your own ears. “As if.”Yunjin raised an eyebrow at your weird reaction but eventually shrugged it off, linking her arm with yours again as the three of you continued walking.

“Whatever but seriously, you better tell us soon. We’re worried about you.”Soobin gave you a small, reassuring smile, though the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. “Whenever you’re ready. No pressure.”You nodded weakly, forcing another smile as you walked with them toward the exit. Inside, your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst. The ultrasound picture hidden in your bag suddenly felt ten times heavier.

Yunjin’s sarcastic joke had been way too accurate.

And you had no idea how much longer you could keep pretending everything was fine.The rest of your classes dragged on painfully.You kept your hood pulled up the entire day, even indoors, trying to hide your face as much as possible. It didn’t help. Everywhere you went walking through the corridors, sitting in the library during break, or moving between lecture halls people stared some whispered some openly pointed a few girls even took subtle photos as you passed by.You felt incredibly small.

Like you had shrunk to the size of an ant under a microscope. Every glance made your shoulders curl inward. Every whisper made your stomach twist with nausea and anxiety. You kept your head down, eyes fixed on the floor or your notebook, clutching the star-shaped squishy toy Heeseung had given you like a lifeline. You barely spoke in group discussions. You barely ate during lunch, pushing the food around your plate while Yunjin and Soobin exchanged worried glances.Soobin noticed everything.He stayed close to you the whole day, walking on the side where more people could see him, subtly shielding you from the worst of the stares. During breaks, he tried his best to lighten the mood with his usual gentle humor.

At one point, while you were sitting on a bench between classes, he nudged your shoulder lightly.

“You know,” he said softly, “if everyone’s going to stare anyway, we should give them something worth staring at. Maybe start doing dramatic poses every time someone looks?”You let out a small, tired laugh despite yourself. Soobin smiled, pleased that he managed to get even that out of you.He kept it up throughout the day sharing funny memes, telling light stories about his roommate’s failed cooking attempts, and reminding you of that time the three of you got lost during a group project trip last semester.

His quiet, steady presence helped more than he probably realized.When the final class ended, Soobin didn’t even ask he simply fell into step beside you.

“I’ll drop you back to your apartment,” he said gently. “No arguments.”You were too drained to protest. The walk to your building was quiet, but Soobin made sure to fill the silence with easy conversation, never pushing you to talk about what was really going on.

When you finally reached your door, you turned to him with a small, grateful smile.“Thank you, Soobin. For today and for walking me back.”

He gave you that soft, warm smile of his. “Anytime. You know that, right? If you need to talk I’m here.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I know. Thank you.”Soobin waited until you were safely inside before waving goodbye and heading off.The moment the door closed behind you, you leaned against it, letting out a long, exhausted breath. Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Heeseung : Did you reach home safely?

You replied quickly.

You : Yes Soobin dropped me back

There was a slightly longer pause than usual before his next message came in.

Heeseung : Oh good that he was there. I’ll bring dinner over later if you want

You stared at the message. It was polite. Normal, even. But something about the “Oh.” and the brief delay felt off. Like a tiny flicker of something unspoken.You didn’t reply right away. You just slid down to the floor, still wearing your hoodie with the hood up, feeling the weight of the day crash over you.

The stares the whispers the rumors spreading like wildfire.Everything was changing so fast.You pulled out the ultrasound picture again and stared at the tiny flicker of a heartbeat, hand resting gently on your stomach.This little life inside you was already turning your world upside down.And now, even Heeseung’s messages carried a quiet weight you couldn’t quite name.

That evening, Heeseung showed up at your door right on time with dinner.He carried a paper bag filled with carefully prepared containers mild chicken porridge with ginger, steamed vegetables, and some fresh fruit slices. Nothing strong smelling. Nothing that would trigger your nausea. He handed it over with a quiet “Eat slowly,” waited until you took a few spoonfuls in front of him, and then left without lingering too long.

From that point on, the next month slowly settled into a new, surprisingly comfortable rhythm between the two of you.

Heeseung became a constant, quiet presence in your life. He was nothing like the loud, arrogant neighbor you had spent months disliking. He was attentive in ways that quietly surprised you. Some mornings, he would knock softly on your door with breakfast already packed simple things like rice porridge or toast with a little honey that your stomach could handle. Other times, he would show up in the afternoon with electrolyte drinks and medicine when he noticed you hadn’t left your apartment all day. On particularly bad nausea days, he would bring over warm ginger tea without you even asking.

He started staying over more often too. Sometimes he would sleep on your couch after bringing dinner, especially on nights when your anxiety kept you awake or the nausea was relentless. You would wake up to find him already making plain toast in your kitchen or folding the blanket he had used. His loud parties had almost completely disappeared. The music was rare now, and when it did play, it was kept low and ended early.

He was there for the small things too. When your favorite hoodie got a tear, a new one in the exact same oversized style appeared at your door the next day. When you mentioned in passing that the smell of your old shampoo made you sick, he came back with a new, scent free one. On days when the fatigue was overwhelming, he would quietly sit with you on the couch, not pushing you to talk, just keeping you company while you rested. You were now two months pregnant.

Your bump was still small enough to hide under loose hoodies and oversized sweaters, but your body was changing in ways that were impossible to ignore. The nausea came in unpredictable waves. The exhaustion made even simple tasks feel heavy. Your emotions swung wildly one moment you felt determined, the next you were crying over nothing. And yet, you still hadn’t told Yunjin, Soobin, or your parents.

Every time you tried to find the right moment, it never felt perfect. The fear of their reactions, their questions, and the overwhelming reality of it all kept stopping you.

This evening, Yunjin was coming over for a group study session. You had already texted Heeseung earlier in the day

You : Yunjin is coming over tonight for study. Can’t do dinner together sorry

His reply had been simple and understanding

Heeseung : No worries lmk if you need anything

At 6:45 PM, there was a knock on your door. You opened it expecting Yunjin.Instead, Heeseung stood there holding a small bag.“I know you said no dinner,” he said softly, “but I brought some light snacks in case you get hungry later. Ginger cookies and cut fruit. Just keep them in the fridge.”You took the bag, feeling that familiar warmth spread through your chest again. “Thank you,” you whispered.Heeseung gave you a small, gentle smile. His eyes lingered on you for a second longer than usual, like he wanted to say more, but he simply nodded.

“I’ll be next door if you need me.”He turned to leave just as Yunjin appeared at the end of the hallway, carrying her bag and laptop. The moment she saw Heeseung leaving your apartment, her eyebrows shot up.She waited until he disappeared into his own door before stepping inside yours and closing the door with a dramatic click.“Okay,” she said immediately, crossing her arms. “What the hell was that?”You froze for a split second at Yunjin’s question, then forced a casual shrug, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“He just had some extra fruits and snacks,” you said, avoiding her sharp gaze. “He was being a good neighbor, that’s all. No big deal.”Yunjin stared at you like you had grown a second head. She let out a loud, disbelieving scoff and crossed her arms tighter. “A good neighbor?” she repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Heeseung? The same guy who used to blast music until 3 a.m. just to piss you off? The one you called an entitled asshole for months? Since when does he randomly bring you snacks like some thoughtful boyfriend? Come on. He’s never been good to you. He’s an asshole, and we both know it.”

Her words hit harder than you expected. You felt a pang of defensiveness rise in your chest, even though part of you knew she was right or at least, she used to be.You rubbed your temple, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Yunjin, can you please calm down? It’s really not that deep. Let’s just get our books out and start studying, okay? I’ll go get the snacks and cut fruits he brought.”You didn’t wait for her reply. You quickly moved toward the kitchen area, grateful for the excuse to escape her intense stare.

Your hands were slightly shaky as you took out the containers Heeseung had brought the ginger cookies, fresh fruit slices, and some light crackers. You arranged them neatly on a plate, trying to buy yourself a few extra seconds to collect your thoughts.

Yunjin muttered something under her breath behind you, but you ignored it and focused on the task.

Two minutes later, you returned to the living room with the plate of snacks, forcing a small smile.“Here, I brought—”Your words died in your throat.

Yunjin was no longer sitting on the couch.She was sitting on the edge of your bed, holding the ultrasound picture in her hands. The same one you had left on your nightstand earlier, half hidden under a notebook. Her eyes were wide, completely fixed on the small black and white image. The room felt like all the air had been sucked out of it. You froze on the spot, the plate trembling slightly in your hands. Your heart slammed against your ribcage so hard you thought it might break.

Yunjin slowly looked up at you, her expression a mixture of shock, confusion, and dawning realization.

“…What the hell is this?” she whispered, voice barely audible.The snacks suddenly felt too heavy. The plate nearly slipped from your fingers as the weight of the moment crashed down on you. You had imagined telling her a thousand times, but never like this. Never with her accidentally finding the proof before you were ready.Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You just stood there, frozen in the middle of your apartment, staring at your best friend holding the ultrasound picture of the baby you were still too scared to fully talk about.

Yunjin’s eyes flicked back down to the image, then back up to your face. Her voice cracked slightly when she spoke again.“Is this… yours?”You stood frozen in the middle of your room, the plate of snacks still trembling in your hands. Yunjin’s eyes were wide, locked onto the ultrasound picture she was holding. The silence stretched for what felt like forever. Finally, you gave a small, shaky nod.Yunjin’s reaction was immediate.

“Oh my god—” She dropped the picture onto the bed and rushed toward you, nearly knocking the plate out of your hands. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, pulling you into a fierce hug. “Oh my god, congratulations!!”You were completely taken back. Your body stiffened at first, but the warmth of her hug and the genuine joy mixed with shock in her voice broke something inside you. Tears welled up in your eyes instantly. You hugged her back, burying your face in her shoulder as both of you started crying.

Yunjin was sobbing softly, rocking you gently. “I can’t believe this You’re pregnant? You’re actually pregnant? Oh my god, I’m so happy for you but I’m also so mad you didn’t tell me sooner!” You cried harder into her shoulder, the relief of finally being seen of not carrying this secret completely alone anymore washing over you in waves. The two of you stood there in the middle of your apartment, hugging and crying for a long minute, the plate of snacks long forgotten on the table.

Eventually, you both pulled back, wiping your tears. Yunjin’s mascara was slightly smudged, and she let out a watery laugh as she cupped your face with both hands.“Tell me everything,” she whispered, still emotional. “When did this happen? How far along are you? Are you okay?” You sat down on the edge of the bed together. You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “We we’re dating,” you said first, the lie slipping out carefully. “Me and Heeseung. It started after Sunghoon’s party.”

Yunjin’s eyes widened, but before she could react fully, you continued, dropping the bigger truth.“And he’s the father.”The words hung in the air.Yunjin froze completely. Her mouth fell open in pure shock. For a few long seconds, she just stared at you, processing.

Then she let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh.

“I I suspected something was going on between you two,” she admitted, still looking stunned. “The way you’ve been acting lately, disappearing, looking exhausted, and then suddenly getting out of his car this morning I thought maybe you were secretly seeing each other. But him being the father? Holy shit.”

She grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly, her expression shifting rapidly between shock, worry, and tentative happiness.“Are you okay? Like, actually okay? This is a lot. And with Heeseung of all people” She trailed off, searching your face. “Do you want this baby? Are you keeping it?”You nodded slowly, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks.“I’m keeping it,” you whispered. “I saw the heartbeat and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get rid of it.”Yunjin pulled you into another tight hug, rubbing your back.

“Oh babe I’m here whatever you need. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

You clung to her, crying quietly into her shoulder again. The relief of finally telling someone, especially your best friend, was overwhelming. But the fear was still there.Because now that Yunjin knew telling Soobin, your parents, and the rest of the world was going to be the next terrifying step.

Yunjin pulled back from the hug but kept her hands on your shoulders, staring at you with wide, teary eyes. She looked like her brain was still trying to catch up with everything you had just told her.“Okay okay, wait,” she said, wiping her own tears. “Let me process this. You’re pregnant. With Heeseung’s baby. And you’re keeping it.”You nodded, sniffling.Yunjin took a deep breath, then launched into full best friend interrogation mode. “Is he taking care of you? Like, actually taking care of you? Or is he being his usual asshole self and making this all about him?” You shook your head slowly.

“He’s been really good, actually,” you said quietly. “He’s been showing up without me asking. He brings me food that doesn’t make me throw up ginger tea, plain porridge, light stuff like that. He checks on me every day. He even skipped basketball practice to take me to the clinic. And when I was crying in the doctor’s room he held me and he cried too.”Yunjin stared at you, completely stunned. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

“…Heeseung? Lee Heeseung? The loud party guy who used to piss you off on purpose?” She looked genuinely shocked. “You’re telling me he’s been nice? Supportive?”You nodded again, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. “He wanted to keep the baby,” you added softly. “When I told him I was thinking about terminating, he said he supported whatever I decided. But he also said he would be there for me and the baby no matter what.”Yunjin leaned back against the headboard, looking completely floored.

“I… I don’t even know what to say. That’s not the Heeseung I know. I thought he was going to be a total dick about this.”

You let out a watery laugh. “Me too but he’s been really different.” Yunjin was quiet for a moment, processing everything. Then, suddenly, her entire expression shifted. The shock melted away into pure excitement. Her eyes lit up as she grabbed your hands again. “Oh my god,” she squealed, voice rising. “We need to come up with a nickname for your baby! Right now!” You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden mood shift, but her energy was contagious. A small, genuine laugh escaped you.

“Already?” you asked, wiping your tears. “Yes! We have to!” Yunjin grinned, scooting closer. “Okay, okay what about ummm Bean? Because they’re bean sized right now!”You wrinkled your nose. “Too basic.”

“Peanut?”

“Even more basic.”

Yunjin tapped her chin dramatically. “Hmm what about Sprout? Little Sprout!”You giggled. “That’s kind of cute.” “Or or Bubbles!” You both laughed, the tension in the room slowly easing as you brainstormed together.Then Yunjin gasped. “Wait what about Bambi?”You paused. “Bambi?” you repeated, testing the name. A soft smile spread across your face. “Like the deer?” “Yes! Because they’re tiny and cute and probably really gentle and soft Bambi.” Yunjin bounced a little on the bed. “Eeek, I love it!” You looked down at your stomach, gently placing a hand over it.

“Bambi…” you whispered. The name felt warm. gentle and right.You looked back at Yunjin, tears still in your eyes but now mixed with a small, hopeful smile.

“I think I really like Bambi.”Yunjin squealed again and pulled you into another tight hug.“Bambi it is! Our little Bambi.”For the first time in weeks, you felt something other than fear and anxiety.You felt a spark of hope. And even though everything was still terrifying and complicated at least now you had Yunjin by your side and a little nickname for the tiny life growing inside you.

After the initial shock and tears settled, you and Yunjin barely touched your books.The notebooks and highlighters lay forgotten on the table while Yunjin sat cross legged on your bed, eyes sparkling with excitement. She was fully in planning mode, talking a mile a minute as she gestured wildly with her hands.

“Okay, first things first I’m calling dibs on being the godmother,” she declared dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m going to spoil this baby so much. They’re going to love me more than you.” You let out a soft laugh, wiping the last of your tears. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious!” she grinned. “And I’m team girl all the way. It’s definitely a girl. I can feel it. She’s going to be so cute, with your eyes and maybe Heeseung’s stupidly good hair. We’re going to dress her in tiny dresses and put little bows in her hair—” You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “I don’t know I feel in my gut that it’s a boy.” Yunjin gasped, looking personally offended. “A boy?! No way this baby is a girl. I refuse to accept anything else.” You both laughed, but it quickly turned into a tiny, playful argument.

“You’re just saying that because you want to buy cute dresses,” you teased. “And you’re saying boy because you want a mini Heeseung running around,” she shot back, poking your arm. The lighthearted bickering felt normal, even. For a few minutes, the heavy weight of your secret lifted, replaced by giggles and Yunjin’s dramatic declarations. Eventually, she leaned back against the headboard, looking thoughtful. “I’m going to be in charge of the baby shower,” she announced. “And the gender reveal. And the nursery theme. All of it. You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

You smiled softly, but then your expression turned serious. “Yunjin nobody can know yet,” you said quietly. “Not Soobin, not my parents, not anyone. Not about the pregnancy and not about me and Heeseung att least not right now.” Yunjin nodded, understanding immediately. “Of course. I won’t say a word.” You continued, “Maybe in a month or two, we’ll start publicly ‘flaunting’ the relationship to make it look real but right now we need to keep things quiet.” “Got it,” she said, squeezing your hand. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Yunjin stayed the night, just like old times. You both changed into pajamas, turned on a comfort movie in the background, and talked for hours about baby names, nursery ideas, how you were feeling, and how Heeseung had been acting. She listened without judgment, only offering support and the occasional teasing remark. Later that night, while Yunjin was brushing her teeth in the bathroom, you picked up your phone and sent Heeseung a message.

You : Yunjin found out about the pregnancy tonight. She kind of discovered the ultrasound picture on her own. She’s staying over right now. We also came up with a nickname for the baby Bambi >.<

You stared at the message for a moment before sending it. A few minutes later, Heeseung replied.

Heeseung : Bambi? I like it

Heeseung : How did she take it? Are you okay?

You smiled faintly at his concern.

You : She took it surprisingly well she’s excited cried a lot. Declared herself godmother already and yes I’m okay just tired

Heeseung : Good tell her I said hi and get some rest. I’ll bring breakfast tomorrow morning

You put your phone down and looked over at Yunjin, who was now sprawled on the other side of your bed, already half asleep. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel completely alone in this. You still had a long way to go telling Soobin, telling your parents, figuring out how to navigate this fake relationship with Heeseung, and actually becoming a mother.

But tonight, with your best friend beside you and a tiny nickname for your baby, things felt just a little bit lighter.

The next morning, you and Yunjin were still half asleep when there was a soft knock on your door.

Yunjin groaned dramatically from her side of the bed, burying her face deeper into the pillow. “If that’s Heeseung, tell him I’m interrogating him before I let him leave.” You smiled tiredly and dragged yourself out of bed, still in your oversized sleep shirt. When you opened the door, Heeseung was standing there holding two large paper bags and a tray with drinks.

“Morning,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “I brought breakfast for both of you. Figured Yunjin might be hungry too.”

He stepped inside after you let him in. The smell of warm food, mild porridge, fresh fruit, and ginger tea filled the apartment without being overwhelming. Yunjin sat up in bed, hair messy, eyes narrowing the second she saw him. “Oh, perfect timing,” she said, suddenly wide awake. She crossed her arms like a judge about to deliver a verdict. “Sit down, Lee Heeseung. I have questions.” Heeseung didn’t even look surprised. He set the bags on the small table and pulled up a chair, calm and composed. “Ask away,” he said simply. Yunjin didn’t waste a second.

“Are you actually taking care of her or are you just playing nice because she’s pregnant?” “I’m taking care of her,” he answered steadily. “Every day. I bring food she can keep down, I check on her nausea, I make sure she’s resting. I was with her at the clinic yesterday.”

Yunjin narrowed her eyes. “And you’re not being an asshole to her behind closed doors?” Heeseung shook his head. “No I'm not. I know how I used to act but things are different now.” She fired off more questions, one after another.

He answered every single one patiently about how he was adjusting his practice schedule, how he was handling the pregnancy emotionally, whether he was pressuring you about anything. He never got defensive. He just answered honestly and quietly.

After nearly ten minutes of intense questioning, Yunjin finally leaned back, looking slightly impressed.

“…Okay. You’re not as much of an asshole as I thought,” she muttered. Heeseung gave a small, tired smile. “High praise.”

Before he left, he turned to you. His expression softened as he stepped closer. He gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be telling my coach and close friends about us and Bambi today,” he murmured against your skin. “Just so you know.”

Your heart melted into a puddle at the gentle gesture. The warmth of his lips on your forehead sent a flutter through your chest. This wasn’t the first time he had done this.

You remembered the night a week ago when the anxiety had hit you particularly hard. You had been crying uncontrollably, overwhelmed by fear and hormones. Heeseung had shown up without being asked, held you close on the couch, rubbed your back, and kissed your forehead repeatedly while whispering that everything would be okay until you finally fell asleep in his arms. The memory made your cheeks warm. Heeseung pulled back, gave you one last soft look, and quietly left the apartment.

The second the door closed, Yunjin let out a high pitched squeal and flopped back onto your bed.

“OH MY GODDDD!” she screamed into a pillow. “That was so sweet! The forehead kiss?! The ‘Bambi’?! I’m actually going to throw up from how cute that was. Heeseung?? Doing all of this?? I’m in shock.” You sat down on the edge of the bed, still feeling the ghost of his kiss on your forehead. Your heart was doing strange, fluttery things you weren’t ready to examine too closely.

Yunjin sat up again, grinning widely. “Okay, I take back half the things I said about him. He might actually be good for you and for Bambi.” You didn’t reply. You just smiled softly, fingers brushing over the spot he had kissed. For the first time, the future didn’t feel quite as terrifying. Even if everything was still complicated, Heeseung was proving, day by day, that he wasn’t going to run away from this and neither were you.

ꪆ୧ heeseung’s pov ─── ドラマ.

The day you decided to keep the baby, Heeseung felt something he had never experienced before.

It wasn’t just happiness. It was bigger than that overwhelming, almost frightening in its intensity. When you broke down in the doctor’s room and sobbed that you couldn’t go through with the termination, that you wanted to keep the baby, something inside him cracked open and flooded with warmth. He was over the moon. That same evening, after you had both returned to your apartment and the dust had settled a little, the words had slipped out of him before he could stop them.

“Marry me.”He had meant it. In that moment, with the image of that tiny heartbeat still fresh in his mind, he wanted nothing more than to do this properly to stand by you, to give the baby a real family, to prove he could be more than the guy you used to hate.

But you had laughed at first, then looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. You told him marriage wasn’t something you did just because of a baby. You said it needed trust, love, and knowing each other things you didn’t have.The rejection stung more than he wanted to admit. It hurt.

Not because he was arrogant enough to think you’d say yes immediately, but because for a brief moment, he had let himself imagine a future where you chose him too. Where this wasn’t just about responsibility, but something real.Still, he respected your decision. He couldn’t force you to love him. He couldn’t force you to marry him. He wouldn’t do that to you, and he refused to do that to himself either. That night, after he left your apartment, Heeseung couldn’t sleep. He sat on his couch in the dark for hours, staring at the wall that separated his place from yours. Then he opened his laptop and started researching.

He read everything. Early pregnancy symptoms morning sickness management prenatal vitamins. What foods to avoid. How the baby developed week by week emotional changes postpartum care. He spent hours going down rabbit holes articles, medical websites, forums where parents shared their experiences. When the sun started to rise, he moved on to parenting books. He ordered nearly twenty of them in one go everything from What to Expect When You’re Expecting to guides on co parenting, single parenting, and building healthy relationships after unexpected pregnancies. He even bought books on newborn care, baby sleep schedules, and how to support a partner through pregnancy.

By the time he finally closed his laptop, the sky was bright. He leaned back on the couch, rubbing his tired eyes. His mind was racing with information, but beneath all the facts and statistics was one clear, undeniable feeling he already loved this baby. More than he thought was possible in such a short time.

Even if you never loved him back, even if you never wanted to marry him, even if this ended up being the most complicated co-parenting situation in the world he was going to be there.

He was going to be a good father.

He refused to be anything less.

Heeseung glanced at the wall again, wondering if you were awake yet. He thought about texting you, but decided against it. You needed rest. Instead, he whispered to the empty room, voice rough from lack of sleep “I’ve got you both.” And for the first time in a long time, despite the pressure from his father, despite the uncertainty of his basketball career, despite the complicated feelings he had for you, Heeseung felt a quiet sense of purpose settle over him. This baby was going to change everything and he was ready.

Ever since the day you decided to keep the baby, Heeseung had been living in a state of quiet, overwhelming happiness. It wasn’t the loud, flashy kind of joy he was used to winning games, hearing the crowd cheer his name, or the temporary high from parties. This was deeper steadier. It settled in his chest like a warm light that never quite dimmed, even on his hardest days. He had no idea where he was finding the time, but somehow he was doing everything.

He woke up earlier than usual now, going for runs before practice, then pushing himself twice as hard during training sessions. His shots were cleaner, his focus sharper, his stamina noticeably better. Coach had even pulled him aside last week and said, “Whatever fire you’ve got under you lately keep it going.” Heeseung just smiled and kept working.

In the evenings, after practice, he studied harder than he ever had. He reviewed game footage, worked on assignments, and still found time to cook for you.

Simple, gentle meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach ginger porridge, steamed fish with mild seasoning, fresh fruit, warm soups. He enjoyed it. The rhythm of chopping vegetables, stirring pots, plating everything carefully it grounded him. But what made him happiest wasn’t just the baby it was you. You were slowly opening up to him.

What used to be nothing but sharp arguments and cold avoidance had turned into real conversations. Some nights he would cook in your kitchen while you sat on the counter or at the small table, watching him. You’d talk about your capstone project, about the art exhibitions you dreamed of curating one day.

Sometimes you’d ask him about basketball, about his dreams of going pro. He would catch himself smiling for no reason while stirring the pot, just because you were there, talking to him like he wasn’t the guy you used to hate. He often found himself thinking about you even when he wasn’t trying to.Did she eat today?

Is the nausea better this morning?Did she remember to take her vitamins?What is she doing right now?

These thoughts would sneak up on him during practice, during lectures, even late at night.

And instead of feeling annoyed by how much space you took up in his mind, he felt warm and content.

His friends and coach had started noticing the change too. During one practice, Jake had jogged up to him during a water break, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Dude, you’ve been weirdly chill lately,” Jake said, grinning. “No more wild parties. You barely hang out with us after practice anymore. What’s going on? You got a secret girlfriend or something?” Heeseung just shrugged with a small smile. “Just focused.”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “Focused? You look like you’re glowing, man. It’s creepy.” Even Coach had commented once, “Lee, you’ve been showing up with better energy lately. Whatever you’re doing outside of here keep doing it.” Heeseung didn’t tell them the truth yet. Not fully. He had quietly told his closest friends and coach that he was seeing someone seriously and that things were complicated, but good. He left out the pregnancy part for now. That was something you both needed to navigate together first.

His partying had almost completely stopped. The loud nights, the random girls, the chaos it all felt pointless now. He preferred quiet evenings cooking for you, or sitting on your couch while you rested your head on his shoulder, too tired to talk but not wanting to be alone. He was happier than he had ever been.

Even on days when the pressure from his father weighed on him, even when he worried about the future and how he was going to balance basketball, fatherhood, and whatever this was with you he was still happy.

Because for the first time in his life, Heeseung felt like he had something that truly mattered. Something worth working hard for. Something worth becoming better for.And that something was you and the tiny life growing inside you. Heeseung had no real reason to be near the Arts Building that afternoon. Practice had ended early, and he told himself he was just going for a walk to clear his head. When Sunghoon asked where he was headed, Heeseung casually mentioned something about needing to ask Sunghoon about a shared assignment. It was a weak excuse, but Sunghoon didn’t question it.

Deep down, Heeseung knew the truth. He wanted to see you. He didn’t fully understand why. Maybe it was the way you had started smiling at him more often when he brought you dinner. Maybe it was the quiet nights where you let him stay over on your couch. Or maybe it was the tiny life growing inside you that made him feel inexplicably drawn to you. Whatever it was, he found himself walking toward the Arts Building, hands in his pockets, pretending it was completely normal.

They were halfway there when he spotted you. You were walking out of the main entrance with Yunjin and Soobin, laughing at something Yunjin was saying. The late afternoon sunlight caught your face perfectly your warm brown eyes sparkling with amusement, the natural soft pink flush on your cheeks, the way your hair moved as you tilted your head back in laughter. Heeseung stopped in his tracks. God… were you always this pretty? He couldn’t look away. The carefree smile on your face, the lightness in your step, the way you looked so alive and bright despite everything you were going throughit hit him square in the chest.

For a moment, the entire campus faded into background noise. It was just you. Sunghoon walked a few steps ahead before realizing Heeseung had stopped. He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yo, what are you—” Sunghoon followed Heeseung’s gaze and smirked. “Oh? Staring at someone?” Heeseung blinked, snapping out of it. “What? No.” Sunghoon’s smirk widened. “Sure you were practically frozen. Who is she?” Heeseung quickly looked away and grabbed Sunghoon’s arm, dragging him in the opposite direction. “No one let’s go. I don’t even know why I came this way.”

Sunghoon laughed, letting himself be pulled along but still glancing back curiously. “Alright, whatever you say. But you were definitely staring.” Heeseung didn’t reply. He just kept walking, ears slightly warm.

His heart was still beating faster than usual.

He had no idea when you had gone from being the annoying neighbor he loved to tease to someone whose laugh made him stop dead in his tracks like an idiot. But one thing was becoming clearer every single day he was falling for you and he had no idea what to do with that.

Heeseung had always been honest with himself about one thing girls had never meant much to him beyond a night of fun. It was never emotional, never deep. To him, it was all about sex, release, and moving on the next day. No strings, no feelings, no complications. That was how he liked it, simple and easy. But you you were different. From the very beginning, even when you were banging on his door calling him an asshole, something about you had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had. And now, after the pregnancy, after seeing that tiny heartbeat, after holding you while you cried he realized it wasn’t just about the baby.

It was about you. He cared about you. Not because you were carrying his child, but because it was you. The girl who didn’t care about his status, who called him out without hesitation, who had dreams bigger than campus popularity. He loved how different you were from the other girls how real, how stubborn, how unapologetically yourself. It might have sounded cliché as hell, but it was the truth. He was falling for you hard.

That evening, when you texted him that Yunjin had found out about the pregnancy and that the two of you had come up with a nickname for the baby, Heeseung had been in the middle of cooking.

You : Yunjin found out. We came up with a nickname for the baby Bambi

He had stared at the message for a long time, heart suddenly pounding Bambi.The word hit him like fireworks exploding in his chest. He whispered it under his breath, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Bambi”He loved it. He loved it so much it almost scared him. The image of a tiny, gentle little life, his child being called something so soft and precious made something warm and protective bloom inside him. He was starting to fall not just for the idea of being a father, but for the reality of building something with you.

The next morning, when he had dropped off breakfast and kissed your forehead in front of Yunjin, he had felt his cheeks flush with warmth. The way you had looked at him surprised, soft, a little flustered had done something dangerous to his heart. He had to practically run out of your apartment to hide the stupid smile threatening to break across his face.

He loved kissing your forehead. He loved the quiet nights when he held you close until you fell asleep. He loved pulling you into his arms when you cried because of hormones or fear or exhaustion. He loved being the person you leaned on now.

And the scariest part?He was starting to realize he didn’t just want to be there for the baby.He wanted to be there for you.Even if you didn’t feel the same way yet.Even if you had rejected his impulsive marriage proposal.Even if this whole thing was messy and complicated and terrifying.Heeseung leaned back on his couch that night, staring at the ceiling with a small, private smile Bambi.He whispered the name again, letting it settle in his heart like a promise.He was falling in love with you.And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t running away from it.

That same day, Heeseung made up his mind.

He was going to tell them.Not everything, not the messy parts, not the fact that you two weren’t actually dating yet but the important truths. That he was seeing you. That you were pregnant. That this baby was his.He arrived at practice with a strange mix of nerves and resolve settled in his chest. For once, his mind wasn’t entirely on basketball. Every drill, every sprint, every shot he took felt secondary to the conversation he knew was coming afterward.

Practice went surprisingly well. His focus was sharp, his movements clean. He pushed himself harder than usual, and it showed. Coach noticed, giving him an approving nod at the end but saying nothing more.

When practice finally ended and most of the team started heading toward the lockers, Heeseung raised his voice.

“Coach guys can you stay back for a minute? I need to talk to you.”The group Coach, Jake, Jay, Beomgyu, and a couple of other close teammates exchanged curious glances but stayed. They gathered near the benches, wiping sweat from their faces, water bottles in hand.

Heeseung stood in front of them, heart pounding harder than it had during any game. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure how to start.

“I… uh, I’ve been seeing someone,” he began. His voice was steady, but his hands were clenched at his sides. “It’s serious. And she’s pregnant.”The silence that followed was deafening.Jake’s water bottle froze halfway to his mouth. Jay’s eyebrows shot up. Beomgyu’s mouth fell open.Coach was the first to speak, voice low and serious. “Pregnant?”Heeseung nodded. “Yeah two months along. It wasn’t planned but we’re keeping the baby.”Beomgyu let out a stunned laugh. “Holy shit, Heeseung. You’re going to be a dad?”

Jake stepped forward, eyes wide. “Wait who is she? Do we know her?”Heeseung hesitated for half a second, then said it.“It’s the girl next door. The one who used to hate me. We had a thing after Sunghoon’s party. And now she’s pregnant with my child.”The reaction was immediate.Jay looked like he was buffering. “You’re telling me you got the one girl who couldn’t stand you pregnant?” Beomgyu grinned, still in disbelief. “This is insane. The girl who used to bang on your door? That girl?”

Heeseung let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Yeah that one.”Coach crossed his arms, studying him carefully. “And you’re sure about this? Keeping the baby?”“I’m sure,” Heeseung said without hesitation. His voice softened. “I saw the heartbeat. It’s real I want this. I’m going to take care of both of them.”The group was quiet for a moment, processing.Then Jake broke into a wide grin and pulled Heeseung into a rough hug. “Damn, man, congratulations. This is wild, butI’m happy for you.”

One by one, the others followed clapping him on the back, offering stunned but genuine congratulations. Even the coach gave him a firm nod and a pat on the shoulder.

“This is going to change things for you, Lee,” Coach said seriously. “But if you’re committed, we’ll work around it. Your priorities are shifting. That’s part of growing up.”Heeseung nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief now that the truth was out with the people who mattered most on the team.As they finally headed toward the lockers, Beomgyu slung an arm around his shoulders.“So does this mean no more parties?” he teased.Heeseung smiled, small but real.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “No more parties.”Because right now, the only thing that mattered was you and Bambi.And for the first time in his life, Heeseung was completely okay with that.

ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ.

Things were starting to get rough.The pregnancy hormones had fully kicked in, and they were merciless.At two months, your body no longer felt like your own. The nausea had eased slightly, but it was replaced by something far more overwhelming an intense, almost constant wave of desire that left you restless and frustrated.

Your emotions swung wildly from one extreme to another. One moment you were crying over a soft song, the next you were irritable for no reason. But the worst part was the arousal.It was relentless.You’d wake up in the middle of the night flushed and aching, thighs pressed together, body throbbing with a need you couldn’t ignore.

During the day, innocent things would set you off the low timbre of Heeseung’s voice when he brought you breakfast, the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders when he cooked, even the faint scent of his cologne drifting through the wall between your apartments. Your breasts were tender and hypersensitive, brushing against fabric made you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

You tried to take care of it yourself.Late at night, when Yunjin wasn’t staying over and the apartment was quiet, you’d slip your hand between your legs, desperate for relief. But no matter how much you touched yourself, slow circles, faster strokes, even bringing out the small vibrator you rarely used wasn't enough. The orgasms felt shallow, unsatisfying, leaving you even more wound up than before. Your body craved something deeper, something fuller.

Something only another person could give.And the worst part? That person was right next door.

Heeseung. The same Heeseung who had been nothing but gentle and attentive these past weeks. The one who kissed your forehead, held you when you cried, cooked meals that didn’t make you sick. The one whose quiet care was slowly chipping away at the walls you’d built around yourself.You hated how much you wanted him.

You’d lie in bed at night, hand between your thighs, imagining his hands instead his long fingers, his mouth, the way he had touched you that one reckless night. The memory of him inside you, deep and thick, made you moan softly into your pillow as you tried (and failed) to find release.It was getting harder to hide.Your cheeks would flush randomly during conversations with Yunjin. You’d press your thighs together during lectures when a sudden wave of heat hit you.

You found yourself staring at Heeseung’s hands when he brought you food, wondering how they would feel on your skin again. You felt embarrassed, guilty and horny beyond reason.And you had no idea how much longer you could keep pretending everything was fine.

A month had passed since you told your parents.

They had flown in to visit you after you finally gathered the courage to break the news over a video call. The moment you told them you were pregnant and that you were dating Heeseung the reaction was everything you had hoped for but still left you emotional.

Your mom had gasped, then immediately started crying happy tears. Your dad he had gone completely silent for almost ten seconds before his eyes welled up. He shed so many tears that day, pulling you into the tightest hug when they arrived, whispering how proud he was of you and how excited he was to become a grandfather. They both adored Heeseung from the first meeting your dad even clapped him on the back and said, “Take care of my daughter and my grandbaby, son.” The support from them had been overwhelming in the best way.

Now, today was the day. Heeseung’s basketball match is your first public appearance as his (fake) girlfriend in front of everyone.You were three months along. Your belly had started to show a soft, consistent bloat that made your clothes fit differently. You couldn’t hide it completely anymore, but it still looked like normal bloating to most people. Only you, Heeseung, Yunjin, Soobin, and your parents knew the truth.

Heeseung had left early in the morning. As captain, he needed to be with the team for warm ups and strategy meetings. Before he left, he had gently placed his spare jersey in your hands, the one with “LEE 7” printed on the back. “Wear this,” he had said softly, kissing your forehead. “You don’t have to worry about anything today. Just enjoy the game. I’ve got you.” You were nervous as hell. You stood in front of your mirror, adjusting the oversized jersey. It was big on you, falling mid-thigh, but it felt comforting.

You paired it with leggings and a light jacket to hide the slight curve of your belly. Yunjin and Soobin were already waiting for you downstairs.When you finally met them outside, Yunjin squealed at the sight of you in Heeseung’s jersey.“Oh my god, look at you! His girlfriend era is so real,” she teased, linking her arm with yours. Soobin smiled warmly, though his eyes still held that protective worry he’d had ever since you told him the truth two weeks ago. “You look good,” Soobin said gently. “Ready?”You nodded, even though your stomach was doing flips.

The arena was packed when you arrived. The energy was electric cheers, music, the sound of basketballs bouncing during warm ups. The moment you walked in with Yunjin and Soobin, a few heads turned. People whispered. Someone pointed. You kept your head slightly down, heart racing, but Yunjin squeezed your arm reassuringly.

The three of you found seats close to the court, right behind the home team’s bench. As soon as you sat down, the players started coming out for the national anthem. Your eyes immediately found Heeseung.

He looked focused, tall and confident in his uniform. But the second his gaze landed on you wearing his jersey, his expression softened. A small, private smile tugged at his lips. He gave you a subtle nod before turning back to his team.

The game started, and the crowd went wild.

You tried to focus on the match, but your nerves were through the roof. Every time Heeseung made a play, your heart jumped. Every time the crowd cheered his name, you felt a strange mix of pride and anxiety. Yunjin was screaming her lungs out, Soobin was calmly explaining plays to you, but your mind kept drifting.This was real now.You were here as Heeseung’s girlfriend at least in everyone’s eyes.

And you were carrying his baby.During a timeout, Heeseung jogged over to the sidelines.

He looked up at you again, his eyes warm even from a distance. He mouthed “You okay?” and you gave him a small nod and a thumbs up. He smiled that soft, real smile he only seemed to give you these days before jogging back to his team. Yunjin nudged you with her elbow, grinning. “He’s whipped,” she whispered. “Look at him checking on you during the game.”

You didn’t reply. You just squeezed the star shaped squishy toy in your pocket and tried to calm your racing heart.

The game continued, loud and fast paced, but your mind was somewhere else entirely on the tiny life growing inside you, on the boy on the court who was trying so hard to be there for you, and on how complicated and scary and strangely hopeful everything felt right now. The final buzzer sounded, and the entire arena erupted.

Your university team had won by a solid 12 points. The crowd was on their feet, cheering wildly as the players celebrated on the court. Heeseung was right in the middle of it all, smiling wide, laughing with his teammates, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. He looked so happy. So alive. So incredibly cool as he high-fived his teammates and lifted the game ball in victory. You couldn’t stop staring.

Even from the stands, you could see the pure joy on his face. For a moment, all the complications between you two faded, and you just felt proud. Proud of him.

After the celebrations on the court died down a little, Heeseung jogged over to the sidelines where you, Yunjin, and Soobin were waiting. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a warm, sweaty hug right there in front of everyone.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, one hand gently pressing against your lower back. The crowd around you cheered louder at the sight. Cameras flashed. Whispers turned into audible gasps.

Heeseung pulled back just enough to look at you, then leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering peck on your cheek.“You did great,” you whispered, still a little dazed by the public affection. He smiled, that soft, private smile he only seemed to give you these days.

“I’ll be back with the team in a bit we have to do the post game stuff,” he said, voice low so only you could hear. “Go home with Soobin and Yunjin, okay? I’ll text you when I’m heading back.”

You nodded, cheeks burning. “Okay.” He gave your hand one last gentle squeeze before jogging back toward his teammates. You stood there, heart racing, as Yunjin squealed beside you and Soobin gave you a knowing look. The walk back to the apartment with your friends felt surreal. People were still staring, whispering, taking photos. But your mind wasn’t on them.It was on him. Why are you blushing? you thought, pressing your cool hands to your warm cheeks as you walked. It was just a hug. Just a peck on the cheek. It’s all fake anyway.

But your body didn’t seem to care that it was fake.

A familiar heat had pooled low in your belly. Your pussy clenched involuntarily at the memory of his arms around you, his breath against your cheek, the way his jersey had clung to his broad shoulders and back while he played. The pregnancy hormones were ruthless these days. They turned every innocent touch, every look, every small act of care into something filthy in your mind. You pressed your thighs together as you walked, trying to ignore the growing ache between your legs.

Why did everything Heeseung did suddenly feel so hot? The way he had looked at you after the win, the way he had hugged you so publicly, the way he had kissed your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world you were horny.Embarrassingly, desperately horny.And it was getting harder and harder to pretend you weren’t affected by him.

When you finally got back to your apartment, you thanked Soobin and Yunjin for coming with you. Yunjin hugged you tightly before leaving, whispering, “Text me if you need anything, baby mama,” with a wink.

Soobin gave you a gentle, concerned smile and reminded you to rest.The moment the door closed, you leaned against it and let out a shaky breath.

Your hand drifted down to rest on your slightly bloated belly three months. You were three months pregnant with Heeseung’s baby and your body was betraying you in the most inconvenient ways possible.

You closed your eyes, remembering the way Heeseung had looked at you after the game, happy, proud, and focused only on you in a crowded arena.

Your pussy clenched again.

“Fuck,” you whispered to the empty apartment, cheeks burning.This was getting dangerous.You couldn’t fight it anymore. The moment you stepped inside your apartment and locked the door, the ache between your legs became unbearable. Pregnancy hormones had turned your body into something foreign hypersensitive, needy, and constantly throbbing. Your breasts felt heavy and swollen, your nipples tight against the fabric of your bra. Your pussy was slick and aching, clenching around nothing.

You didn’t even make it to the bed properly.

You kicked off your shoes, yanked your pants and panties down in one desperate motion, and fell back onto the mattress. Your shirt was pushed up hastily over your breasts. The cool air hit your heated skin as you cupped your swollen tits, squeezing them roughly. A broken moan slipped from your lips when your fingers brushed your sensitive nipples.

“Fuck…” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

One hand stayed on your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple, while the other slid down your stomach and between your thighs.

You were soaked. Your fingers glided easily over your swollen clit, rubbing tight, frantic circles. The relief was immediate but not enough. You pushed two fingers inside yourself, pumping desperately, imagining thicker, longer fingers his fingers.

Your hips bucked against your hand. Soft, needy whimpers filled the room as you fucked yourself faster, thighs trembling. The pressure built quickly, but every time you got close, it slipped away. You needed more. You needed him. You were so lost in it eyes closed, lips parted, fingers thrusting wetly inside your dripping pussy that you didn’t hear the front door open

Heeseung stepped inside quietly, holding the spare key you had given him weeks ago. He had come to check on you after the game, worried you might be tired or nauseous.The sight that greeted him made him freeze in the doorway. You were sprawled on the bed, shirt rucked up, pants around one ankle, legs spread. Your fingers were buried deep inside your glistening pussy, pumping frantically while your other hand squeezed your swollen breast. Your face was flushed with pleasure, lips parted in soft, desperate moans.

Heeseung’s breath caught. His cock hardened instantly in his sweatpants. For a second, it was painfully awkward. He should have left. He should have announced himself.But then your eyes fluttered open and locked onto him.You didn’t stop.Instead, your voice came out hoarse and pleading.“Heeseung… please.” He stepped closer, eyes dark with lust but still careful. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice rough. “You don’t have to—” “Please,” you whimpered, fingers still moving slowly inside yourself. “I can’t I need you. Please help me.” That was all it took.

Heeseung climbed onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. He gently pulled your hand away, replacing it with his own. Two thick fingers slid into your soaked heat easily, curling perfectly against that spot that made you cry out. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, pumping his fingers steadily. His thumb found your swollen clit and rubbed tight circles. “Been thinking about me, baby?” You moaned loudly, hips bucking against his hand. He leaned down, sucking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth while his fingers fucked you deeper, faster. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers thrusting into your dripping pussy filled the room.

Heeseung added a third finger, stretching you open, curling them just right. His mouth moved between your breasts, sucking and licking your swollen nipples until you were shaking.“I’m close—” you gasped, fingers threading through his hair. “Come for me,” he murmured against your skin, thumb pressing harder on your clit. Your orgasm crashed over you hard. You cried out, back arching, walls clenching tightly around his fingers as pleasure tore through you. Heeseung kept pumping his fingers through it, drawing out every wave until you were trembling and oversensitive.

But you still weren’t satisfied. You tugged at his shirt desperately. “More please, Heeseung. I need you inside me.” He didn’t hesitate. He pulled his fingers out, quickly stripping off his clothes. His cock sprang free thick, hard, and leaking at the tip. He positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock along your slick folds before slowly pushing in.

You both moaned as he sank deep inside you. He was gentle but firm, filling you completely in one smooth thrust. Heeseung groaned at how tight and wet you were, forehead dropping to yours.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he breathed, starting to move. He fucked you with deep, steady strokes, hips rolling against yours. One hand cradled your slightly bloated belly protectively while the other gripped your thigh, holding you open for him. The wet slap of skin and your mingled moans filled the room.

Heeseung kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours as he thrust harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke. Your hands roamed his back, nails digging into his skin as another orgasm built fast. “Come again for me,” he whispered against your lips. “Let me feel you.”

You shattered around him with a cry, pussy clenching tightly around his cock. Heeseung groaned, thrusting a few more times before burying himself deep and coming hard inside you, hips jerking as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. He stayed inside you for a long moment, both of you breathing heavily. Then he gently pulled out and collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms. He kissed your forehead, then your temple, holding you close as you came down from the high.

You lay there afterward, breathing hard, body limp and glowing with the aftershocks of pleasure. Heeseung stayed buried inside you for a long moment, forehead pressed against yours, both of you catching your breath. His hand gently stroked your side, thumb brushing over the slight swell of your belly in a protective, almost reverent way.

Eventually, he pulled out slowly, a soft groan leaving his lips as he did. You winced at the sudden emptiness, but Heeseung was already moving, pulling you into his arms and tucking you against his chest.

He kissed your forehead, then your temple, holding you close as your breathing slowly evened out.

Neither of you spoke for a while. The only sounds in the room were your mingled breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner. Heeseung’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and rough. “…You should’ve told me it was getting this bad,” he murmured. “I would’ve helped sooner.” You buried your face in his neck, cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal. “I didn’t know how to say it. It’s humiliating. I feel like my body isn’t mine anymore.”

Heeseung tightened his arms around you. “It’s not humiliating. You’re pregnant. Your body is changing because of our baby. If you need me for anything just tell me. I’m right here.” You stayed silent, letting his warmth seep into you. The hormones were still humming under your skin, but the sharp edge of desperation had dulled into a comfortable, sated haze. After a few minutes, Heeseung gently pulled back so he could look at you. “You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You nodded. “Yeah, thank you.”

He smiled that small, genuine smile that made your chest feel strangely tight and kissed your forehead again. “Stay here. I’ll clean you up.” He got up, completely naked and unashamed, and returned moments later with a warm, damp cloth. He wiped you down gently between your legs, then cleaned himself before crawling back into bed and pulling you against his chest once more. You let yourself relax into him, one hand resting on your slightly rounded belly.

For the first time in weeks, the constant ache of need was quiet. But as you lay there in Heeseung’s arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, a new kind of nervousness settled in.

Because the line between “fake” and “real” was starting to blur dangerously fast. He held you close against his chest, one hand stroking soothing circles on your back while the other rested protectively over the small, soft swell of your belly. The room was quiet except for your slowing breaths and the faint hum of the city outside the window. You stayed like that for a while, skin warm and slightly damp, hearts still beating fast. Neither of you felt the need to speak right away. It felt strangely peaceful.

Eventually, Heeseung broke the silence, his voice low and soft against your hair. “I’ve been reading parenting books,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy, comforting patterns along your spine. “A lot of them. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, guides on newborn care, nutrition during pregnancy everything I could find. I wanted to be prepared. For you and the baby.” You tilted your head up to look at him, genuinely surprised. “Really? You’ve been doing that?”

Heeseung nodded, a small, almost shy smile touching his lips. “Yeah. I’ve been learning about the second trimester, what symptoms might get worse or better, how to support you when the nausea is bad, safe exercises, all of it. I don’t want to be clueless. I want to do this right.”

You felt a warm flutter in your chest. You hadn’t expected him to take it this seriously. Before you could respond, he continued gently, "And if you ever have any needs physical, emotional, anything at all I’ll always be there for you. Whether it’s holding you when you’re anxious, helping with the nausea, or anything else. Just tell me. Only if it’s okay with you, of course.” You hesitated for a second, then whispered, “Will that be okay with you? Because we aren’t really a couple.” Heeseung was quiet for a moment, then pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“It’s okay with me,” he said simply. “I know we’re not traditional. But I care about you. And I care about our baby. So whatever you need, I’m here with no pressure , no expectations. Just me, showing up for both of you.” The sincerity in his voice made your eyes sting with tears. You buried your face in his neck, nodding against his skin. The conversation flowed easily after that quiet, honest, and surprisingly comfortable. You told him about your fears of balancing university with pregnancy, how scared you were about telling more people, and how overwhelmed you sometimes felt by the changes in your body.

Heeseung listened without interrupting, rubbing your back the whole time. He shared his own worries too the pressure from his father, his fears about balancing basketball and fatherhood, and how he sometimes felt unprepared but determined to try his best.

Eventually, the talking slowed. Heeseung shifted lower on the bed, resting his cheek gently against your bare belly. He looked up at you with soft, questioning eyes. “Can I talk to the baby?” he asked quietly. “If that’s okay with you.” Your throat tightened with emotion. You nodded.

Heeseung smiled faintly and pressed a soft kiss to the small swell of your stomach. Then, in a low, gentle voice, he spoke “Hey, Bambi it’s me your dad. I know things are a little complicated right now, but I want you to know I’m really happy you’re here. I’m going to take care of you and your mom, okay? We’ve got you. Both of us.” You felt tears slip down your cheeks as you watched him. Heeseung stayed there for a while, murmuring soft promises and little stories to your belly, his hand resting protectively over it.

When he finally crawled back up, he pulled you into his arms again, skin to skin, warm and safe. You tucked your face against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. You both fell asleep like that completely naked, wrapped around each other, his hand resting protectively over your stomach where Bambi was growing. For the first time in a long while, the future didn’t feel quite so terrifying.

The next morning, you woke up slowly, blinking against the soft sunlight filtering through your curtains. Your body felt heavy in that familiar, exhausted way the pregnancy making even sleep feel like it wasn’t quite enough. You reached out instinctively to the other side of the bed, expecting warmth, expecting Heeseung’s arm around you like it had been when you fell asleep. But the bed was empty. The sheets where he had lain were cool. He must have left a while ago.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes, and noticed a small yellow post it note stuck to the lamp on your nightstand. You reached for it, heart giving a little flutter as you read his neat handwriting

“Made breakfast for you. It’s in the fridge mild porridge with ginger and some fruit. Please eat it before you go to classes. Had some early work with the team, had to leave. Text me when you wake up. Take care of yourself and Bambi today. - Heeseung”

You stared at the note for a long moment, thumb brushing over his name. A strange mix of emotions washed over you warmth, gratitude, and that familiar flutter of confusion in your chest. He had cooked for you again, even though he had practice. Even though he left early. Even though he didn’t have to. You placed the post-it carefully on the nightstand and got out of bed. Your hand instinctively moved to rest on your slightly bloated belly as you walked to the kitchen. True to his word, there was a container in the fridge with perfectly portioned porridge and fresh-cut fruit on the side. A small bottle of ginger tea sat beside it.

You heated the porridge and sat at your small table, eating slowly. The food was gentle on your stomach, exactly what you needed. As you ate, your mind replayed the events of last night the way Heeseung had held you, the way he had talked to your belly, the quiet honesty between you two.It was getting harder to remember that this was all supposed to be fake.

Your phone buzzed on the table. A message from Heeseung.

Heeseung : Did you wake up? Did you eat?

You smiled faintly and replied.

You : Just woke up eating breakfast now thank you

Heeseung : Good let me know how you’re feeling today. I’ll try to finish early so I can bring dinner

You put your phone down and continued eating, one hand still resting on your belly. The reality of your situation felt heavier every day. You were three months pregnant. You were pretending to date the guy you used to hate. You were slowly letting him into your life in ways you never expected. And yet it didn’t feel as terrifying as it once did. After finishing breakfast, you got ready for classes, loose clothes to hide the small curve of your belly, comfortable shoes, and your usual hoodie. Before leaving, you glanced at the post-it note again, then carefully folded it and tucked it into your bag.

As you locked your apartment door, you couldn’t help but think about how much had changed in such a short time. Heeseung was becoming someone you relied on. And you weren’t sure how you felt about that yet.

Heeseung woke up slowly, warmth surrounding him. You were still asleep in his arms, face tucked against his chest, one hand resting lightly on his stomach. Your breathing was soft and even, your body relaxed against his in a way that made his heart feel too big for his chest. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over your face. He smiled a small, private, uncontrollably happy smile.

He was so happy.

Waking up like this, with you curled into him, knowing there was a tiny life growing between you it felt like something he didn’t deserve but would fight to keep. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like pressure. It felt like hope. His phone vibrated on the nightstand. Heeseung’s smile faded slightly when he saw the caller ID Dad.

He carefully slipped his arm from under you, moving slowly so he wouldn’t wake you. You stirred a little but settled back into the pillow with a soft sigh. Heeseung watched you for a second longer, heart clenching with affection, before he grabbed his phone and quietly left the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.He answered the call in the living room, voice low.“Hey, Dad.” Instead of a greeting, his father’s sharp voice cut through immediately.

“So it’s true? You have a girlfriend now? And you’re wasting your time on her instead of focusing on the league?” Heeseung’s jaw tightened. He leaned against the kitchen counter, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m serious about her, Dad,” he said, voice steady but firm. “I want to marry her.” A harsh scoff came through the line. “Marry her? You don’t think about getting into the league, about your future, about everything I’ve sacrificed for you but you think about marriage? With some girl who’s probably just using you for your name?”

Heeseung stayed silent for a moment, letting the familiar sting of his father’s words wash over him. He didn’t argue. He knew it was pointless. His dad continued, tone cold and commanding. “I want to meet her and bring her for Thanksgiving. We’ll see what kind of girl managed to distract you this badly.”

Heeseung exhaled slowly. “Sure. I’ll bring her.” The line went dead without another word.

Heeseung lowered the phone, staring at the black screen for a long moment. The happiness he had felt waking up with you in his arms was still there, but now it was shadowed by the familiar weight of his father’s expectations. He walked back to the bedroom quietly and stood in the doorway for a while, watching you sleep. Your hand had moved to rest on your belly in your sleep a small, protective gesture that made his chest ache with tenderness. Heeseung smiled softly despite everything. Thanksgiving was going to be complicated. But for you and Bambi he would face it he always would.

A few days had passed since that emotional night.

Your life had slowly started to find a strange new rhythm. Mornings often began with Heeseung’s quiet knocks or a text asking how you slept. He still brought you breakfast on most days, always something gentle on your stomach. The nausea was still present but no longer as violent. Your belly had grown just a little more noticeable, a soft curve that you hid under oversized hoodies and loose sweaters.

Today was your checkup. You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the oversized sweater over your belly.

Three months and a few days. The doctor had said everything looked good at the last visit, but you were still nervous every time. You gently placed a hand over your stomach, feeling the slight firmness there.

Bambi. The nickname made you smile despite the nerves. Your phone buzzed on the counter.

Heeseung : I’m outside ready when you are no rush

You took a deep breath, grabbed your bag, and headed downstairs. Heeseung was waiting by his car, leaning against the door in a casual black hoodie and jeans. The moment he saw you, his expression softened into that small, genuine smile he seemed to reserve only for you lately. “Hey,” he said, opening the passenger door for you. “How are you feeling today?”

“Better than yesterday,” you replied, sliding in. “Still a little nauseous in the mornings, but not as bad.”

Heeseung nodded, closing the door gently before getting into the driver’s seat. The drive to the clinic was quiet but comfortable. He asked about your classes, about whether the fatigue had eased, and told you a light story about Beomgyu messing up a drill during practice. You found yourself smiling more than you expected.

A few days later, you had your regular checkup.

Dr. Kim was as kind and patient as always. She did a quick scan, confirmed that everything was progressing normally, and then smiled warmly at both of you. “Everything looks great. The baby is growing well. At your next appointment, around the four month mark, we should be able to determine the gender if you’d like to know. Would you be interested in finding out?” You glanced at Heeseung. He looked at you with soft eyes, waiting for your decision.

You nodded slowly. “Yes I think I’d like to know.”

Heeseung’s hand gently squeezed yours. Dr. Kim smiled and scheduled the next appointment before sending you off with more prenatal vitamins and advice on managing fatigue. After leaving the clinic, Heeseung turned to you in the car. “There’s a movie showing that looked pretty light, not too intense want to go? Just the two of us.” You agreed. The theatre was dimly lit and not very crowded. You chose seats near the back, a little more private. Heeseung bought snacks you could handle plain popcorn and ginger ale and settled in beside you.

The movie started, but your mind was elsewhere.

The pregnancy hormones had been relentless lately. Your body felt hypersensitive. Every brush of his arm against yours, every time his thigh pressed against yours in the seat, sent heat pooling low in your belly. You tried to focus on the screen, but your eyes kept drifting to him the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hand rested on his thigh, the subtle scent of his cologne. You couldn’t fight it. Halfway through the movie, when the theatre was dark and quiet, you leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“Heeseung…” He turned his head slightly. “Yeah?”

Instead of answering with words, you reached over and slowly slid your hand onto his thigh. He tensed, but didn’t stop you. Your fingers moved higher, palming him through his jeans. He was already half hard. His breath hitched. “Baby what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer. You quietly unzipped his jeans, reached inside, and pulled his cock out. He was thick and warm in your hand. You stroked him slowly at first, feeling him harden fully under your touch.

Heeseung’s hand gripped the armrest. “Fuck are you sure?”

You nodded, already sliding down in your seat. You leaned over, taking him into your mouth. Heeseung sucked in a sharp breath, his hand gently threading through your hair. You took him deeper, tongue swirling around the head before sliding down his length. He was big you had to go slow, relaxing your throat to take more of him. The salty taste of his precum coated your tongue as you bobbed your head, sucking him with wet, quiet sounds.

Heeseung’s breathing grew heavier. He tried to stay quiet, biting his lip, but soft, low groans escaped him whenever you sucked harder or swirled your tongue just right. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pushing, just holding on. “You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, voice strained. “So fucking good”

You took him as deep as you could, hollowing your cheeks, one hand stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His hips twitched slightly, fighting the urge to thrust. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, getting closer.

When he finally came, it was with a quiet, choked groan. Hot spurts filled your mouth as you swallowed around him, milking him through it. Heeseung’s hand trembled in your hair, breathing ragged. You pulled off slowly, licking your lips as you sat back up. Heeseung looked at you with dark, stunned eyes, chest rising and falling quickly. He quickly tucked himself back into his jeans, then pulled you close, kissing your temple. “Fuck… that was…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

You smiled shyly, cheeks warm, heart still racing.

The rest of the movie passed in a haze. Heeseung kept his arm around you, thumb gently stroking your shoulder, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your hair. When the credits rolled, he leaned in and whispered, “Let’s get you home.”

The car ride back to the apartment was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Heeseung’s hand occasionally brushed against yours on the center console, a small, reassuring touch that made your chest feel strangely warm. You were still replaying the movie in your head or at least pretending to while your body hummed with the memory of what you had done in the theatre. When you reached your building, Heeseung parked and walked you up to your door like he always did now. But instead of saying goodnight, he lingered in the hallway.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” You nodded, unlocking the door and letting him inside. The apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from the small lamp on the side table. You both took off your shoes and sat down on the couch. Heeseung turned to face you, looking a little tense. He took a slow breath before speaking.

“My family wants to meet you,” he said. “During Thanksgiving. My dad specifically asked me to bring you.” You blinked, processing the words. Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away. “Oh,” you said quietly. “Are we going to reveal the pregnancy then?”

Heeseung nodded, eyes steady on yours. “Yeah I think it’s time. They deserve to know.” You sat there for a moment, letting the idea settle. A small, nervous smile crossed your face. “I know they’ll be happy,” you said, trying to sound optimistic. “My parents were over the moon when I told them. Yours will probably be excited too, right? A grandbaby and everything”

Heeseung didn’t reply right away. He looked down at his hands, jaw tightening just slightly. You didn’t notice the way his shoulders tensed or the brief flash of worry in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, voice quiet. “They’ll be happy.”But inside, Heeseung knew the truth.His father wouldn’t be happy. Not even close. The man who had spent years pressuring him to be better than his older brother, who had made it clear that basketball and the NBA were the only priorities that man was going to see this as a distraction. A mistake. A threat to everything he had planned for Heeseung’s future.

Heeseung could already imagine the cold disappointment in his father’s voice, the sharp questions, the comparisons to his perfect older brother who had never “messed up” like this.But he didn’t say any of that to you. Instead, he reached over and gently took your hand, squeezing it. “We’ll face it together,” he said softly. “Okay?” You nodded, leaning into his side a little. You still believed his family would be supportive like yours had been. You had no idea about the tension that existed between Heeseung and his father.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you there for a long moment.For now, he would let you believe everything would be fine.He would carry the worry alone. Because no matter how his parents reacted, one thing was certain he was going to protect you and Bambi no matter what.

The weeks that followed settled into a rhythm you never expected and one you were desperately trying not to get used to. Heeseung was always there. Quietly, steadily, without making a big deal out of it. He’d show up in the mornings with breakfast he’d prepared before practice, simple things like warm ginger porridge or toast with honey that your stomach could actually handle. Some days he’d stay longer than usual, sitting on the edge of your bed while you ate, watching you with that soft look in his eyes that made your chest feel tight. You told yourself it was just the pregnancy making you emotional.

One morning, after a particularly rough night of nausea, you woke up feeling miserable. Heeseung had let himself in with the spare key. Without saying much, he pulled you into the shower with him, washing your hair with gentle fingers while the warm water ran over both of you. The closeness, the steam, the way his body felt against yours , it ignited something fierce. You ended up pressed against the tiled wall, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you slow and deep, water cascading over your joined bodies. He whispered against your neck how beautiful you looked like this, carrying his baby, and you came so hard you saw stars.

Afterward, he dried you off, carried you back to bed, and held you until you fell asleep again. You told yourself it was just hormones. Just physical need nothing more. Another afternoon, you came home from classes exhausted and emotionally drained. Heeseung was already waiting inside, having cooked a light dinner. You barely ate two bites before the tears started. He didn’t ask questions. He just pulled you onto his lap on the couch, kissing you softly at first, then deeper, hungrier. You ended up riding him right there, slow and desperate, his hands cradling your slightly rounded belly the entire time.

He looked up at you like you were the only thing in his world, groaning your name when he came inside you. You hid your face in his shoulder afterward, heart racing for reasons you refused to name. There were quieter moments too. One night, when the anxiety hit you hard, you texted him at 2 a.m. He showed up minutes later, crawling into bed with you fully clothed. He held you close, rubbing your back, kissing your forehead repeatedly until you calmed down.

That night turned heated too you ended up on top of him again, moving slowly in the dark, his hands gentle on your hips as he whispered how strong you were. You came with his name on your lips and tried to convince yourself it didn’t mean anything. Heeseung started leaving little notes everywhere. “Drink water for Bambi.” “You’re doing amazing today.” “Text me when you’re home.” He’d read parenting books late at night and tell you random facts over dinner what week the baby could hear your voice, how to tell if the nausea was improving, safe positions for intimacy during pregnancy.

You’d watch him cook in your kitchen, sleeves rolled up, humming softly under his breath, and feel something dangerously warm bloom in your chest. You told yourself it was just the hormones making you soft. But it was getting harder to lie to yourself. One lazy Sunday afternoon, you were both on the couch watching a movie. Heeseung’s hand rested on your belly, thumb stroking absentmindedly. The simple touch turned into slow kisses, then heated touches.

You ended up straddling him, riding him deep and slow while the movie played in the background. He kept one hand on your belly the whole time, eyes locked on yours, whispering how much he loved seeing you like this. When you came, trembling in his arms, you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something you couldn’t take back. You were trying so hard not to admit it.Every forehead kiss made your stomach flutter. Every time he cooked for you or held you through a crying spell, your heart felt too full.

Every night he stayed over, wrapped around you naked and warm, you had to remind yourself this is just for the baby. This isn’t real. I don’t like him like that.But deep down, you knew the truth was slipping away from you. You were starting to like Lee Heeseung the real him. The one who showed up without being asked. The one who read parenting books at 3 a.m. The one who looked at you like you were carrying something precious. And you had no idea what to do with that.

The day of Heeseung’s game arrived faster than you expected. It was the last match before the team’s short break for Thanksgiving, and you had agreed to go with Yunjin and Soobin. You were three months along now, your belly softly rounded under an oversized hoodie with Heeseung’s jersey number hidden beneath. The nausea had eased a bit, but the hormones still made everything feel more intense emotions, touches, even the cheers from the crowd.

You sat in the stands between your friends, heart fluttering with a mix of nervousness and something warmer you refused to name. Yunjin was practically bouncing in her seat, waving a small handmade sign that said “GO HEESUNG!” while Soobin sat calmly beside you, occasionally glancing at you with quiet concern. The game started strong, but it quickly became clear that today wasn’t their day.

Heeseung played hard you could see the determination on his face every time he drove to the basket or called out plays. But the opposing team was on fire, and your university’s defense kept slipping. By halftime, they were down by 8 points. The crowd grew restless. You found yourself gripping the star shaped squishy toy he had given you, squeezing it tightly every time Heeseung missed a shot or got blocked.

In the second half, things got worse. Heeseung fought until the final buzzer, but the team lost by 14 points.

The arena was quiet as the final score flashed on the screen. You felt a pang in your chest watching Heeseung stand on the court, shoulders slightly slumped, sweat dripping from his hair. He looked disappointed but not broken, still the captain, still trying to rally his teammates with claps on the back and quiet words.

After the teams shook hands and the crowd started to disperse, you told Yunjin and Soobin you’d meet them later. You made your way down toward the court area, heart beating faster as you waited near the tunnel.

Heeseung emerged a few minutes later, freshly showered, hair still damp. The moment his eyes found you, his expression softened. He walked straight to you, ignoring the few lingering people around.

Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. You hugged him back tightly, one hand rubbing his back, the other resting on the back of his head.

“You played really well,” you whispered. “I’m proud of you.”He let out a heavy breath against your skin. “We fucked up today. I fucked up.” “You didn’t,” you said gently, pulling back just enough to look at him. “You fought until the end. That’s what captains do. One bad game doesn’t change how good you are.”

Heeseung searched your eyes for a moment, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, careful not to press too hard on your belly.

“Thank you for coming,” he murmured. “Means a lot.”

You stayed like that for a while, letting him hold you in the quiet hallway outside the locker room. A few of his teammates walked past, but no one said anything. The public affection felt natural now part of the “fake” image you were both maintaining. But the way he held you felt anything but fake.When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “We leave for my parents’ place in two days,” he said quietly. “You still okay with going?”

You nodded, even though nerves twisted in your stomach. “Yeah. We’ll face it together.”Heeseung smiled faintly and kissed your forehead one more time before letting you go.“I’ll see you later. Get some rest, okay? For you and Bambi.”You watched him walk back toward the locker room, heart doing that annoying flutter again.You told yourself it was just the pregnancy.Just hormones. But as you walked back to meet Yunjin and Soobin, you couldn’t ignore how safe you felt in his arms or how much you were starting to crave that feeling.

The arena slowly emptied as you, Soobin, and Yunjin made your way out into the cool night air. The loss still lingered in the atmosphere, but the walk back felt lighter thanks to your friends’ company. Yunjin was practically glowing Sunghoon had offered to drop her home after the game, and she couldn’t stop smiling about it. “I’ll see you guys later!” she called out, waving excitedly as Sunghoon’s car pulled up. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Soobin chuckled softly beside you as you both continued walking toward your apartment building.

The streets were quieter now, the distant cheers from the arena fading behind you. Soobin walked at your pace, hands in his pockets, glancing at you every few steps.After a comfortable silence, he spoke gently. “So you and Heeseung, huh?” You kept your eyes on the sidewalk, fingers fiddling with the hem of your oversized hoodie. “Yeah I guess so.” Soobin nodded slowly. “He seems different with you. Nicer I’ve seen how he looks at you during games. How he checks on you. It’s not what I expected.”

You smiled faintly, thinking about the way Heeseung had hugged you after the match, the soft kiss on your forehead, the way he always made sure you ate something gentle on your stomach. “He’s been really good to me,” you admitted quietly. “He brings me food that doesn’t make me sick. He checks on me every day. He even reads parenting books e’s trying a lot.”

Soobin was quiet for a moment, processing. Then he asked the question you’d been dreading. “Do you actually love him?” You hesitated.

The words got stuck in your throat. Your heart raced as memories flashed through your mind Heeseung holding you while you cried, cooking for you at 2 a.m., kissing your belly and whispering to Bambi, the way he looked at you like you mattered.You forced a small laugh, trying to sound casual. “Obviously duh.” Soobin stopped walking. He turned to face you fully under a streetlight, his expression soft but serious.

“It just feels really sudden,” he said gently. “One minute you hated him. You used to complain about him every single day. And now you’re dating him and pregnant with his child. It’s a lot to take in. Are you sure you’re okay?” You looked down at your shoes, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. The truth sat heavy in your chest you weren’t sure if you loved him. You were still trying so hard not to admit how much he was starting to mean to you. The hormones made everything confusing. The pregnancy made everything terrifying. And Heeseung himself made everything feel safe.

“I’m figuring it out,” you said quietly. “It’s complicated. But he’s been there for me for us.” Soobin nodded, not pushing any further. He simply walked beside you the rest of the way, offering his quiet, steady presence like he always did. When you reached your apartment building, he gave you a gentle hug. “I’m happy for you if you’re happy,” he said softly. “But if you ever need to talk I’m here. No judgment.” You hugged him back tightly, grateful beyond words. “Thank you, Soobin.”

As you walked up to your door alone, you leaned against it for a moment, hand resting on your belly.

You were still trying so hard not to admit it.

But every day, it was getting harder to lie to yourself.

You finally reached your apartment after the long walk back with Soobin and Yunjin. The moment the door closed behind you, the exhaustion of the day the game, the stares, the emotions settled heavily on your shoulders. You kicked off your shoes, changed into an oversized t-shirt, and crawled into bed. Before turning off the lights, you picked up your phone and texted Heeseung.

You : Reached home going to sleep now goodnight

You set the phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp, pulling the blanket up to your chin. But sleep didn’t come. Thirty minutes passed. Then forty. You tossed and turned, mind racing with thoughts of the game, the whispers you’d heard, the weight of the secret you were still carrying, and the tiny life growing inside you. The pregnancy hormones made everything feel louder your emotions, your body, your worries. You heard the soft click of the front door opening. Heeseung must have used the spare key you’d given him.

A few seconds later, he appeared in the doorway of your bedroom, silhouetted by the faint hallway light. He looked tired from the game but his expression softened the moment he saw you.“You’re still awake?” he asked gently.You sat up slowly, hugging your knees to your chest. Your voice came out small and tired.“I can’t sleep…”

Heeseung didn’t hesitate. He walked over, kicked off his shoes, and climbed onto the bed beside you. Without a word, you raised your arms toward him. “Cuddles please?” Heeseung’s face softened even more. He pulled you into his arms immediately, wrapping you up against his chest.

One of his hands rested protectively over your small belly while the other stroked your back in slow, soothing circles. “Anything for my baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

The word “baby” made your heart skip. You knew this was all supposed to be fake the relationship, the affection, everything. He shouldn’t be calling you that. But you didn’t correct him. You just burrowed deeper into his chest, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat calm the storm inside you. Heeseung held you tighter, chin resting on top of your head. “Rough day?” he asked softly.

You nodded against him. “The game the stares everything feels too much sometimes.” “I know,” he murmured. “But you did good today. You were there for me. That means a lot.” You stayed silent, just letting him hold you. His hand continued its gentle strokes on your back, occasionally drifting to rub small circles over your belly. The simple touch made something warm bloom in your chest, something you quickly pushed down. It’s just hormones, you reminded yourself. This isn’t real. But it felt real.

Heeseung shifted slightly, pulling the blanket higher over both of you.

“Sleep now,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. Both of you.” You closed your eyes, safe in his arms, and finally drifted off. Heeseung stayed awake a little longer, holding you close, his hand never leaving your belly. He pressed one last soft kiss to your forehead before letting sleep take him too. In the quiet darkness of your apartment, wrapped in each other, the line between fake and real blurred a little more.

Heeseung lay awake in the dark, long after you had fallen asleep in his arms. Your head rested on his chest, breath warm and steady against his skin. One of your hands had unconsciously curled into his shirt, holding on even in sleep. His own hand stayed protectively over the small, soft swell of your belly where Bambi was growing. He could feel the faint warmth of your body, the subtle rise and fall of your breathing, and it made something deep and fierce bloom in his chest. He was so fucking happy.

It was terrifying how happy he was.This wasn’t the kind of happiness he was used to the rush of winning a game, the high of a party, the fleeting satisfaction of a random hookup. This was quieter and deeper. It settled in his bones and refused to leave. He had never imagined himself here lying in bed with the girl who used to hate him, holding her while she carried his child. But now that he was, he couldn’t picture anything else.

His thumb traced slow, gentle circles over your belly Bambi. The nickname still made him smile every time he thought about it. He remembered the first time he felt the baby move just a tiny flutter that you had grabbed his hand for. That moment had wrecked him in the best way. He had stayed up half the night after that, reading every article he could find about fetal movement, what it meant, how to support you through the coming months. He was falling in love with the baby. But he was also falling in love with you and that part scared him more.

He had always been honest with himself about girls before they were fun, temporary, never serious. But you were different. You had always been different. Even when you were yelling at him through the wall, even when you called him entitled and cocky, you looked at him like he was just a person. Not the basketball captain. Not the guy with the rich dad. Just… him and now? Now you let him hold you. You let him cook for you. You let him talk to your belly and kiss your forehead and stay the night when you were anxious. You were slowly opening up to him in ways he never thought you would.

Heeseung pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, breathing you in. He remembered the night he asked you to marry him. The way you had laughed at first, then looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. The rejection had hurt more than he let on. Not because his ego was bruised, but because for one brief, stupid moment, he had let himself imagine a future where you chose him too.

But he respected your decision. He wouldn’t force you to love him. He wouldn’t trap you in something you didn’t want. If all you could give him right now was this, these quiet nights, these shared moments, this careful co-parenting he would take it. He would take anything you were willing to give. Still he couldn’t stop the quiet hope that bloomed in his chest every time you smiled at him. Every time you leaned into his touch. Every time you fell asleep in his arms like you belonged there.

Heeseung closed his eyes, holding you a little tighter.

He didn’t know what the future held, especially with his father waiting at Thanksgiving, ready to judge and criticize. But for the first time in his life, he felt like he had something worth fighting for you and Bambi.

This strange, messy, beautiful thing growing between you. He was going to protect it. Even if you never loved him back the same way. Even if this was all still “fake” to you. Heeseung whispered against your hair, so quietly he barely heard it himself “I’ve got you both.” And in the dark, with you safe in his arms, he let himself believe it was enough for now.

ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ.

The drive to Heeseung’s parents’ house felt longer than it should have. It was the day before Thanksgiving, and the highway stretched out in front of you, lined with trees that were slowly turning bare for winter. You sat in the passenger seat of Heeseung’s car, hands resting on your lap, occasionally drifting to the small, rounded curve of your belly under your oversized sweater. Three months and two weeks. The bump was undeniable now if you weren’t careful, but you still hid it as best as you could.

Heeseung drove with one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally brushing against yours on the center console. The radio played softly in the background some acoustic playlist he had put on because he knew loud music sometimes made your nausea worse these days. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy. You could feel the weight of what was coming. Meeting his parents. Revealing the pregnancy. Pretending to be in a real relationship when everything still felt so fragile and confusing.

You glanced at him. He looked calm on the surface focused on the road, jaw relaxed but you noticed the way his fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel. He was nervous too. “Are you okay?” you asked quietly. Heeseung gave you a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah just thinking about how this is going to go.” He paused, then added, “My dad can be intense. He has high expectations. But my mom will probably be happy to see you. She’s been asking about you since I told them I was bringing someone.”

You nodded, looking out the window again. Your hand unconsciously rubbed small circles over your belly.

“I’m nervous,” you admitted after a while. “What if they don’t like me? What if they think I’m just some girl who trapped you?” Heeseung reached over and gently took your hand, squeezing it once before returning his to the wheel. “They’re not going to think that,” he said, voice steady. “And even if they do it doesn’t matter. This is about us and Bambi not them.”

You stayed quiet, but his words settled something warm in your chest. You tried to ignore it. It’s just hormones, you told yourself again. Don’t get attached.

The car ride continued with small talk to fill the silence. Heeseung asked about your capstone project, about whether the nausea had gotten any better, about what you wanted to eat when you got there. You asked him about his basketball schedule after the break, about whether he was excited to see his mom. The conversation was easy, almost domestic, and that scared you more than the upcoming meeting. At one point, Heeseung reached over and rested his hand on your thigh not sexual, just comforting. You let it stay there.

Halfway through the drive, he spoke again, voice softer. “Thank you for doing this with me,” he said. “I know it’s a lot. Meeting my family pretending all of it. But I’m glad it’s you.” Your heart did that annoying little flip again. You looked down at your lap, cheeks warming. “Yeah me too,” you whispered. The rest of the drive passed in comfortable quiet. Heeseung kept the music low, occasionally humming along. Every now and then his hand would find yours again, giving it a gentle squeeze.

When the familiar gates of his parents’ large, modern house came into view, your stomach twisted with nerves. Heeseung parked the car and turned to you, his expression serious but kind.“You ready?” he asked.

You took a deep breath and nodded.“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Heeseung leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead the same gentle gesture he had been giving you more and more lately. “We’ve got this,” he murmured against your skin. “Together.”

You stepped out of the car with him, heart pounding, hand instinctively resting on your belly as you walked toward the front door of his family home. Thanksgiving had officially begun. The walk from the car to the front door felt longer than it should have. Your hand instinctively rested on your belly under the oversized sweater, a small, protective gesture you’d developed over the past few weeks. The house was beautiful, modern, large, with clean lines and big windows that glowed warmly from the inside. It looked expensive. Intimidating.

Heeseung walked beside you, his hand lightly brushing against yours before he gently took it. His grip was warm and steady.“You okay?” he asked quietly. You nodded, even though your stomach was twisting with nerves. “Just a little scared.”

He squeezed your hand. “I’ve got you. We’ll do this together.”Before you could respond, the front door opened. A woman in her late 40s stepped out, elegant and poised, with sharp features softened by a warm smile. She had Heeseung’s dark eyes. This had to be his mom.

“Heeseung!” she called out happily, walking down the steps to meet you both. She pulled her son into a tight hug first. “My baby. You look tired. Have you been eating properly?” Heeseung hugged her back. “I’m fine, Mom.”Then she turned to you, her expression softening even more. “You must be the girl my son has been talking about,” she said warmly, stepping forward to pull you into a gentle hug. She smelled like expensive perfume and fresh flowers. “I’m Heeseung’s mom. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

You hugged her back, surprised by how kind her embrace felt. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Lee.”

She pulled back but kept her hands on your shoulders, studying your face with genuine curiosity and warmth.“Please, call me Eunae,” she said. “Come inside, both of you. It’s cold out here.” She ushered you both into the house. The interior was even more impressive high ceilings, modern furniture, and a large living room that opened into a beautiful kitchen. The smell of something delicious cooking drifted from the kitchen. Eunae led you to the living room and gestured for you to sit on the large, comfortable sofa.

“Heeseung told us you’d be coming,” she said, sitting across from you with a soft smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this. He doesn’t bring girls home often, you know.” You felt your cheeks warm. Heeseung sat beside you, close enough that his thigh pressed against yours. Eunae asked gentle questions about your studies, your dreams of becoming an art curator, how you and Heeseung had started dating. You answered carefully, sticking to the story you two had rehearsed. She listened with genuine interest, occasionally glancing at Heeseung with a proud but slightly worried look.

Dinner was almost ready, she said. As she stood up to check on the food, she smiled at both of you.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said quietly. “Both of you. This house has been too quiet lately.”You smiled back, feeling a little less nervous. But the tension in the air was still there the knowledge that Heeseung’s dad was somewhere in the house, and that the real test was yet to come.Heeseung squeezed your hand again, as if sensing your thoughts. “We’ve got this,” he whispered when his mom left the room. You nodded, leaning into his side just a little.For now, you were safe.

Later at dinner the dining table was beautifully set. Heeseung’s mom had prepared a generous spread grilled meat, fresh vegetables, rice, and several side dishes. His dad sat at the head of the table, a tall, imposing man with sharp eyes and a serious expression. He had greeted you politely but coolly when you first arrived. The conversation started light. Eunae asked more about your studies. His dad asked about basketball. Heeseung answered calmly, his hand occasionally brushing yours under the table for reassurance.

Then, halfway through the meal, Heeseung cleared his throat. “Mom. Dad,” he said, voice steady but serious. “There’s something we need to tell you.”

Both parents looked at him. Eunae’s expression was curious. His dad’s was already guarded.Heeseung reached over and took your hand openly on the table.

“She’s pregnant,” he said. “Three months along. The baby is mine.” The silence that followed was heavy.

Eunae’s eyes widened, then filled with tears. She brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh a grandbaby?”

The dining room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence after Heeseung’s announcement. Eunae’s eyes were wide with surprise, then quickly filled with happy tears. She brought a hand to her mouth, whispering, “A grandbaby oh, Heeseung” But his father’s reaction was ice cold.Mr. Lee set his chopsticks down with a sharp clack. His eyes narrowed on Heeseung, then flicked to you with clear disapproval. “Pregnant,” he repeated, voice low and cutting. “You got this girl pregnant while you’re supposed to be focusing on your future in the league? Are you serious right now?”

Heeseung’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “Yes. We’re keeping the baby.” Mr. Lee let out a harsh, disbelieving scoff. He leaned back in his chair, looking at his son like he was a disappointment he could barely stand. “Of course you are. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? Make reckless decisions and expect everyone else to clean up after you.” His voice grew sharper, colder. “Your brother Heedo never did anything like this. He stayed focused. He trained hard. He made it pro without distractions. And you? You’re out here throwing away your career for some girl you barely know and a baby you’re not ready for.”

The words landed like punches.You felt Heeseung tense beside you, his hand gripping yours under the table. His shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t speak.

Mr. Lee wasn’t done. “You think you can handle this? You can’t even handle the pressure of being captain properly. Always distracted, always partying, always doing the bare minimum. Heedo was never like this. He was disciplined. He was excellent. And you you’re just average. Now you’ve gone and ruined your future before it even started.” The silence that followed was brutal.Eunae looked uncomfortable, glancing between her husband and son. Heeseung’s face was carefully blank

The silence that followed Mr. Lee’s words was brutal.

Eunae looked uncomfortable, her eyes darting between her husband and son. Heeseung’s face remained carefully blank, but you could feel the tension radiating from him the way his jaw clenched, the way his hand tightened around yours under the table. Mr. Lee leaned forward, voice dripping with disappointment. “You think you can handle a child? You can’t even handle yourself. Always chasing girls, throwing parties, wasting time instead of training like your brother did.

Heedo never let anything distract him. He made it pro because he was focused, disciplined, excellent and you? You’re average at best. Now you’ve gone and ruined your future before it even started all because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.” The words cut deep. You felt Heeseung flinch beside you, though he tried to hide it. Something inside you snapped.

You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Your heart was pounding, but your voice came out steady and sharp. “Enough.” Everyone at the table turned to look at you. Mr. Lee’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t get to talk to him like that,” you said, voice trembling with anger but clear. “Heeseung has been working incredibly hard. He’s been there for me every single day since we found out about the baby. He’s reading parenting books, adjusting his schedule, taking care of me when I’m sick all while still being the captain of his team. He’s trying his best, and that’s more than enough.” You looked at Heeseung, who was staring at you with wide, surprised eyes. “We’re leaving,” you said firmly, taking his hand. “We don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”

Heeseung stood up beside you without hesitation. Eunae looked torn, but she didn’t stop you. Mr. Lee’s face was red with anger, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Thank you for dinner,” you said politely but coldly to Eunae. “But we’re done here.”

You pulled Heeseung toward the door. He followed without a word, his hand warm and tight around yours. The moment you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your face. You didn’t stop walking until you reached his car. Only then did you turn to him.

Heeseung looked stunned. His eyes were glassy, and for the first time, you saw raw vulnerability on his face.

“You stood up for me,” he whispered. You squeezed his hand. “Of course I did. He had no right to talk to you like that.” Heeseung pulled you into his arms right there in the driveway, hugging you tightly. You felt him exhale shakily against your hair. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I I don’t know what to say.” You hugged him back just as tightly, your hand resting on his back.

As you both drove away from his parents’ house, the silence in the car was heavy but not cold. Heeseung reached over and took your hand again, holding it the entire drive back. For the first time, you didn’t pull away. And for the first time, you didn’t tell yourself it was just hormones.

The drive back to the apartment complex was quiet.

Heeseung kept one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally brushing against yours on the center console. Neither of you said much. The weight of his father’s cruel words still hung heavy in the car, and you could feel the exhaustion radiating from him. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, and every now and then he let out a slow, controlled breath like he was trying to push the night’s events away.

When he finally parked in front of the building, it was already well past midnight. The hallway lights were dim, casting long shadows across the floor as you both walked up to your doors in silence. The air felt cooler now, the kind of late-night chill that made you pull your jacket a little tighter around yourself.

Heeseung stopped in front of his own apartment, keys in hand. He looked tired drained in a way that went beyond the long day and the difficult dinner. His eyes were distant, like he was still replaying his father’s voice in his head.

“I think… I want to be alone tonight,” he said quietly, not quite meeting your eyes. “Just need some time to think.” You nodded, understanding. The night had been draining for both of you. You didn’t want to push him when he clearly needed space. “Okay,” you whispered. “Take care of yourself.” Before he could turn away, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. Heeseung stiffened for a second, surprised, then melted into it. His arms came around you, strong and warm, pulling you close.

You felt his face press into your hair, his breath shaky against your neck. For a long moment, you just held each other in the quiet hallway, the only sound being the faint hum of the building’s ventilation system.

When you finally pulled back, you rose onto your tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering peck to his cheek. Your lips lingered there for a second longer than necessary, feeling the warmth of his skin.

Heeseung froze. His eyes widened slightly as he looked at you, surprised and something else, something softer, almost vulnerable. Why did you do that? you thought, heart racing. This is all supposed to be fake right? But you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You were in love with him. The realization hit you like a wave as you stood there in the dim hallway.

You loved Lee Heeseung not just because of the baby, not just because of the way he took care of you, but because of him. The man who showed up without being asked. The man who read parenting books at 3 a.m. The man who held you when you cried, kissed your forehead like it was the most natural thing in the world, and made you feel safe in a way no one else ever had. You wanted to build a family with him. You wanted the quiet nights, the shared meals, the gentle way he spoke to your belly. You wanted him.

The thought terrified you and warmed you at the same time. Heeseung lingered for a second longer, eyes searching yours, before he gave you a small, tired smile. “Goodnight,” he whispered. “Goodnight,” you replied softly. He disappeared into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. You stood there alone for a moment, heart still racing, before walking into your own place. You locked the door, leaned against it, and let out a long, shaky breath.

You’re in love with him, you admitted to yourself, pressing a hand to your chest. You want this. You want him. You want a family with him. The realization felt both freeing and terrifying. But before you could sit with it any longer, your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. You walked over and picked it up. The screen showed a message from an unknown number.

Unknown : Stay away from Heeseung or else your career and his especially are doomed. I will make sure of it

PERMANENT TAGLIST : @wonscrchy @miniij @ni-kichromeheartzz @evansfangz @jakeycakeys @addictedtohobi @babydumplingpandabamboo @simjakeyjake @angelhyuka @nodoubtily @chanchamm @ni-k1ttie @yangw0ni3 @mystgene @enheenie @jeongspetal @mokacoca @8naqvg @cherryhwajoong @k-ra05650 @hsngx @hoonguin @yamzz67 @chaostudee @jayrassicpaaark @jakeswifey @rinaarii @mayouar @starboyhee @dolikecherrycoke @sugarcwtie @simj4k3

comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

[sundives]

Chasing after storms ✶ ksn.

Summary: Your life has always been a matter of business. Even your marriage with the cold-hearted Kim Sunoo was purely out of business. An alliance. To strengthen one’s company and partnership. But when a conversation between Sunoo and a family lawyer involving divorcing you was overheard, you resorted to your only choice — ran away.

Seven months into your disappearance, and your husband found you in the smallest, most secluded isle in your country. Eager to bring you home, his desperation clashed with your stubbornness, creating a storm that left both of you stranded in your loveless marriage.

Fifth installment of Big reputations series.

✰ Song inspirations: I did something bad by Taylor swift, Ultraviolence by Lana del rey, My boy only breaks his favorite toys by Taylor swift

✰ Word count: 20.3k

✰ Tags: CEO au, arranged marriage au, cold ceo! Kim sunoo, ceo! Reader, aged-up characters (they’re in their late 20s), kinda small town au, cheating and infidelity, unresolved tension, the lack of communication here…, marriage issues, they need to go on couples therapy, they’re such a toxic couple tbh, ANGST!!! Fluff if you squint hard, smut, both of them are emotionally constipated lol, mentions of kpop idols.

✰ CW: plot with porn, smut, meandom! Sunoo, sub! Reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please don’t), heavy makeout, spanking, spit, degradation, hair pulling, multiple positions, breeding, kinda humiliation? manhandling, dacryphilia. This is just pure filth lol.

✰ Asul's note: I am back from my hiatus and yes, reputation series will continue! Apologies for changing sunoo’s story but this one? chef kisses i am soooo in love with the angst and conflict of this fic, and yes it does involve cheating so if it’s not your cup of tea, don’t read it. But I hope you guys enjoy this one. Not proofread by the way. Everything's fictional too. I wrote this when I was sick so I apologize if the writing’s off.

✰ Series taglist: @kyutiepeachy @rosepetals09 @toastmenace @k1ttyjwon @kikidoul @brokenengene @tatikeu @ddeondalandan @ellyre @addictedtohobi @fancypeacepersona @heeseungsgf26 @axfyl @dollvtte @saraabbas @meloncholatte @andieekosmos @soltyshshs

-

It was three in the afternoon and yet, the sun was nowhere to be found. 

You looked up to the sky, seeing how fast the gray clouds swarmed the whole area, you assumed that rain showers were going to visit anytime. You’re used to Seokdo's unpredictable weather that’s why you decided to gather the clothes you’ve washed earlier and have it dry inside your house instead.

You hummed a soft melody as you took off the clothes from the clothesline. The spring breeze was still so calm and cold despite the dimmed sky, making you relaxed. You loved this feeling. You’ve gotten used to your lifestyle ever since you arrived in Seokdo. There were no regrets inside you but instead, you feel like you’ve achieved a more fulfilled tranquility.

There’s nothing more serene than living in the countryside — away from the crowded city of Seoul, away from the sky-high buildings and polluted humid weather. 

Away from him. You’re your own person in this place. Your ring finger was empty as the cold band was stored somewhere on your small jewelry box back in Seoul. Seven months have passed and you have gotten used to the freedom of your choice. You unknowingly smile as you inhale deeply, immersing yourself in the serene life of living alone in Seokdo.

But before you could fully immerse yourself, you heard a loud engine of a motorcycle driving towards your area. You turned your head towards the sound and immediately assumed that maybe, it was just one of the nice uncles, perhaps bringing you their harvest again. 

That’s why you moved out of instinct, went out to check it but you immediately froze when you saw who’s in front of your gate. 

“Found you.” 

“Sunoo,” you breathed, feet nailed to the ground as your eyes widened. “How the fuck —”

“You really chose a great place for hiding from me,” he teased. Demeanor still calm and cold as he casually walked towards you. 

“How did you know?” you raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, you really think you can hide from me?”your husband laughed, tone deeper than usual. “That’s your first mistake sweetheart.”

“It took you seven months to find me?” you taunted.

“Doesn’t matter how long I did, what matters is that I found you,” from there, he grabbed you by the arms. “And we’re going home.” 

“I’m not going with you!” you shouted as you attempted to escape his hold, and yet, it was no match for Sunoo who only stood there, surprised by your action.

“Do you hate me that much?” he asked, tone feigning with curiosity. “What did I even do to you?”

“What do you think Sunoo?” you asked back, tone angry and expression filled with irritation that it surprised the man for a second.

“I have no time to deal with your riddles y/n,” Sunoo coldly stated. His grip on you became tight as he yanked you close to him. Eyes meeting his cold ones. “Do you think I like this silly mousechase? Do you even know how much of a burden it was for everyone. Every. Single. One asking me where the fuck are you?”

A sly smirk formed on your lips instead. “Good.” 

“Good?” he chuckled in disbelief. “You love putting me in hell, huh?”

“That shouldn’t be new to you,” you spat back. “This marriage has been a hell after all.”

Sunoo stared at you for a good minute until something in his thought clocked. “Ah. I get it now.”

“You understood now?” you questioned, appalled.

“Yeah,” he said sharply. “That you’re doing this to taunt me. You’re doing this to challenge our marriage. Are you that bored?”

“Are you that fucking dense?” you asked him back. “The last thing I want to do is to do something that will gain a single glimpse of your attention. Dream on Sunoo.”

Along with your sharp words, a series of thunders roared across the sky, and before you two could’ve reacted, rain started to pour. Heavy and huge droplets and yet, not a single one of you moved.

“Go home Sunoo!” you shouted as you attempted to yank your arms away but your husband was persistent.

“I am going home but I will make sure to bring you with me!” Sunoo declared.

You laughed. “For what!? So that you’d be praised that you had found your wife? That’ll boost your fucking ego won’t it?”

“Right, because the only one who could fucking tame my reckless wife is me!” he argued back and with that, he carried you by your waist, earning a loud scream from you.

“Put me down! What the hell —” you didn’t even notice that Sunoo had dragged you back inside your house until you heard the door closed in a loud thud and he placed you down on the floor. Both of you were already drenched, making you flinch at the coldness of the rain. 

“You had the audacity to think you’re welcome here,” you told him, who busied himself with removing his coat.

“Where’s your bathroom? We should change or else we might get sick,” he stated instead, making you scoff.

“That’s your concern?”

“I am allowed to be concerned for our well-being wife,” he answered and his words caused you to flinch — no, some part inside your heart jumped. The rush of blood flushed towards your cheeks, completely malfunctioning your brain while Sunoo stood there with a smirk on his face.

“Flustered? That I addressed you in that way?” he teased and you snapped.

“No, I am surprised,” you answered immediately. “That you’d addressed me in that way when you’ve treated me like a ghost for the past three years.”

“Does that even matter to you? We’re still married.”

“Don’t pull that card right now Sunoo, we never acted like one. I don’t even know why the hell you’re here.” you objected angrily.

“Everyone’s looking for you,” Sunoo answered

You raised an eyebrow. “That includes you?”

Sunoo didn’t answer. He only stared at you with a blank expression, and his silence concluded you to his answer. That’s why you smiled at him, bitter and short as an understanding nod was all you gave him. 

“The first boat to Jeju will be tomorrow at eight am, just so you know, I have no plans on returning to Seoul — especially to you, so leave me alone and return.” you informed him.

“I am not leaving this damn place without you. Despite the crap arrangement we have, you are my wife. You are my responsibility whether you and I like it or not. Now, you fucking listen to me. I have other important things to deal with within my company, so let’s make this trip short and return to Seoul first thing in the morning, alright?” Sunoo explained and you only crossed your arms.

“You’re insane to think I’d fold to you Sunoo. You’re only my husband by papers and I’ll make sure that it’ll stay that way.” You breathed. “You’re in my house, so you fucking listen to me. I’ll let you stay the night but I want you out of my place first thing in the morning, alright?”

“And we can’t have what we want, you know that?” he taunted and that made you chuckle.

“You’re right, so enjoy freezing to death there Mr. Kim,” you mocked as you left him standing there. 

You went straight to your room. Closing it with a small thud before you leaned against the door. Clutching your beating heart as it pounded nonstop out of nervousness.

Sunoo’s here.

Kim Sunoo. Your husband of three years. One of the most influential businessmen in your country is here in a small isle, eight miles north from Jeju island. It takes four to five hours to go here by boat, and he did that just to take you home — his wife of three years.

It would’ve sounded so sweet. A gesture of a dedicated husband who found his wife after months of searching, but all you could see was that egoistic move of his. Everything feels like an act. Everyone would praise him if he’d be the one who’d bring you home after you ran away.

That was the last thing that you wanted to happen. You’re never going to fold to your husband. You know what awaits you once you return to Seoul. An earful lecture from your parents and in-laws, an apology from your distressed twin brother, and last of all — divorce papers from your husband, the very reason why you left in the first place.

You admit that you’re scared of Sunoo. He was a powerful man after all. Old money. Name plastered at every corner of South Korea, he and his family could make your family’s company crumble in a split second. That’s why it’s not a surprise that he could divorce you any time he wants. 

It was an accident. You overheard his conversation with his family’s lawyer. It was a suggestion of divorcing you, simply because it was a trend nowadays.

The cherry on top of what you heard was Sunoo asking for more information about the divorce.

You were frozen. Disbelief entered your system as your anger towards your husband started to boil. Your mind was in haze, you barely heard the rest but all you could think of was how to avoid the divorce.

The divorce will be the end of you. Sure, you would love to divorce Sunoo and save yourself a lifetime of loneliness, but you’re at your peak. Your company’s reputation has become stable, and everything’s going well. There were future plans and the divorce will ruin everything. Cutting ties with the Kim family will paint you badly and it’ll greatly affect the company too.

Of course Sunoo doesn’t know that. He’d never understand that because everything was given to him ever since he was born. He was born wealthy and privileged. While your family were new money. You were competing with other rising companies, and the marriage secured your company’s stability. 

Everything was purely out of business. Since you were in-charge of the company, it was your responsibility too, that’s why you accepted the marriage proposal from the Kim family. You know that Sunoo was strongly against it but in desperate measures, you agreed even if it meant that you’d spend the rest of your life tied to a heartless man.

Now, he has plans of divorcing you, which would ruin you forever. Hence, you devised a plan — run away from Kim Sunoo, leave your company to the safe hands of your twin brother, and while hiding, find a way to keep your company alive that if ever, the time Sunoo forced you to sign the divorce papers, you could walk away without any worry at all.

That’s how you ended up in Seokdo. A small isle that’s a five hour boat ride from Jeju. The population was so small that there were only approximately a hundred houses on the isle.

It didn’t take you long to adjust. Within a week, you’ve become accustomed to the place. The people were welcoming and friendly. They didn't know you that well, but they treat you as if you’re just a city girl who just wants to escape the city, and you let it remain that way.

They don’t know you’re married. They don’t know your whole reason for ending up in Seokdo. You spent your days helping the folks in their harvests and livelihood, babysit their kids, and sometimes, you would join them in their small get-togethers.

It was fun. You’ve become a local at some point. Day by day, you no longer yearn for Seoul and despite living alone, homesickness didn’t occur to you because as you stare at the serene view of the village by your bedroom’s window, you are convinced that you should put yourself first. 

You felt like you belonged here. You don’t want to go back to Seoul, despite Jake’s lectures for you to return. You convinced him that you’ll return soon, but you don’t even have a clear answer. You’re still scared, you don’t know how to face everything — especially Sunoo. You know that Sunoo’s been looking for you. He had been tormenting your twin brother about your whereabouts after all.

But now, you’re at a dead end. Your husband finally found you and has every plan of dragging you back to Seoul. You don’t have any concrete plans yet but all you need to do is to find a way for him to return without you, and right now, the least thing you could do is for him to return safe and healthy.

Your feet moved, opening your cabinet to grab one of the folded towels and spare clothes that Jake leaves whenever he visits. You left your room and noticed that Sunoo hasn’t moved from his place.

He really has plans of freezing to death. You rolled your eyes before walking towards him.

“Here,” you said as you shoved everything to him. “Bathroom’s the first door near the kitchen area. There’s hot water there, just turn the knob to the left and wait for a few minutes for it to come out.”

“There’s hot water here?” Sunoo asked, appalled.

“Rain frequent this place, so yes, the folks need hot water — and heater. So please, take a fucking bath before you get yourself sick.” you explained.

“What about you?”

“That’s none of your concern anymore,” you answered harshly and he didn’t push furthermore. Your husband only gave you a stare before he went towards the bathroom. As the door shut, you were able to breathe again. It made you wonder, how you’ll survive the remaining hours with him.

You just hope that by tomorrow, he'll be gone from your sight. 

-

An upcoming storm will land on Seokdo in the upcoming days.

The waves were huge and angry. Traveling and fishing weren’t advisable too. Everyone was informed to prepare for the upcoming surge and was advised to stay at home instead.

“Kill me now,” you muttered under your breath as you walked back home. The wind was howling and the sky’s gray. You could feel that chaos of the upcoming storm and you found it funny since it totally suited your situation right now. 

Your husband’s stuck with you. Great. You wondered what you even did in your past life to end up in this situation.

As you entered your house, you found Sunoo standing by the corner with the phone near his ear. You noticed the sense of relief washing on his face as you made eye contact with him. He placed down the phone and walked towards you.

“You’re here, I almost called the police,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re funny when you act concerned for my well-being,” you commented before placing your umbrella on the rack.

“Am I not allowed to?” he asked.

“It doesn’t suit you,” you pointed out. “Anyways, bad news is, you’re stuck here. Storm’s coming and travels are cancelled. If you want a decent stay, Mrs. Lee has a transient house. It’s a bit cozier and bigger, you could stay there until you leave.”

Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “Why would I stay in Mrs. Lee’s house instead of here?”

“Because I don’t want you here Sunoo, simple as that.” you said without any hesitations.

“And you think that saying that would simply make me leave you and stay there,” from there, a sly smirk formed on his lips. “You’ve tormented me for seven months, I think it's best that I’d return that favor.”

“Seven months isn’t enough for the three years I spent living in the cold, lonely penthouse with you.”

“That’s why you ran away? Because you’re tired of our marriage?” he concluded.

“It’s not about our marriage Sunoo. I have long accepted the fact that our marriage was purely business only. I just want a change of environment,” you reasoned out but Sunoo wasn’t convinced.

“And you’d expect me to believe that?”

“I am not expecting you to do anything Sunoo, you shouldn’t have gone looking for me in the first place —”

“Do I have to repeat myself to you? You’re my responsibility y/n. We may be married due to business alliance but you are my wife regardless,” he said sharply. “I know you. You’re not just going to run away out of impulse. Now tell me why did you leave?”

The tension thickened as both of you fell under a staring contest. His eyes were cold and seemingly waiting for you to give in while you were on the edge of it. You wanted to confront him right there. Open up the fact that you had overheard his conversation with Mr. Park.

But the storms’ surging right now. Winds were slamming against the wooden windows as rain poured harder than yesterday. Everything’s overwhelmingly scary that you don’t want to add another chaos that’s brewing at the moment, especially when you're stuck in this small house with your distant husband.

“It doesn’t matter Sunoo, you’d never understand it anyway,” you told him before heaving out a sigh.

“So you’ll just remain stubborn?” he scoffed. 

“I am not being stubborn Sunoo, I am doing what’s best for me.”

“By being selfish.”

“I’ve done a lot of sacrifices, Sunoo. Ever since I was born, everything I did was for my family and our business. So it’s fair that I am choosing myself this time.” you explained. “And if you’re going to stay here just to ruin my peace, I’ll be the one who’ll leave this place instead.”

“Don’t go,” he said immediately and you halted. “Just — fine. I am not going to ask anymore. Just let me stay here and I’m just going to let the storm pass by.”

“And then you’ll go back alone, right?” you asked.

“I’ll think about it,” Sunoo insisted and you were defeated.

“Fine, I’m going to make us breakfast,” you said as you went towards the kitchen area.

“Can I help?” he asked as he followed you.

“Do you even know how to?”

Sunoo became quiet, making you turn around to give him a glare. “Just stay in the living room, there’s a disc player with old cds there and books, keep yourself entertained.”

Like a kicked puppy, Sunoo returned to the living room and sat on the heated floor. He looked around the interior. The house was quite small. Only fitted for one to two people. The living room was a bit small but Sunoo noticed the subtle decorations like the potted plant and figurines. You sure made the house feel like yours after months of living there.

Sunoo then noticed the small pile of books on the corner table, shuffling towards it, he picked it one by one and noticed that they were books of foreign authors. Novels, poetry books, and self-help books. All marked and annotated that you seemed to have run out of books to read.

Sunoo wondered what you’ve been doing here in Seokdo for the past seven months. Clearly, you’ve changed. A lot. You seemed more independent and free than you used to. He doesn’t know if it should concern him but a small part of him was glad nonetheless, that you were alive and breathing even though you’re a thousand miles away from Seoul.

He decided to kill time by picking up one of the books to read, but his mind was distracted by the heavenly smell coming from the kitchen. 

His curiosity beat him into it. Standing up, he abandoned the book and went to the kitchen where you busied yourself cooking breakfast.

Oblivious to your husband’s watching eyes, you hummed quietly as you placed the remaining ingredients needed for the soup. Stirring it lightly before taking a few sips from the ladle. 

“Didn’t know you could cook —”

“God! Sunoo, don’t scare me like that!” you shouted, but your husband only smirked at you as he stood beside you to glance at the pot.

“Looks good, did you learn how to cook while you’re here?” he asked, not minding how close he was as his stare remained at the pot.

“No, I always loved to cook, ever since I was kid,” you don’t know why those words slipped out of your mouth or why you’re having a conversation with your husband. You felt a weird thumping feeling in your heart again, but you tried to ignore it by stirring the soup one more time.

“Really? Why don’t you cook back home?” he asked, tone filled with amusement. 

“We have a chef Sunoo,” you pointed out. “Plus, I’m busy with the company, I don't have time to cook.” 

Sunoo didn’t say a word. You were glad that the conversation ended as the two of you only stood there in silence. Your husband watched as you did a last minute seasoning before turning the gas stove. 

Without saying a word, Sunoo helped you by placing rice on the bowl and setting down the table. You didn’t comment anymore as you placed the pot down, before sitting on the chair in front of Sunoo. The atmosphere’s awkward as you cleared your throat before gesturing to him to eat.

“Thank you for the meal,” Sunoo said, before scooping a ladle-full of soup. 

You poured your portion and as you started eating, there’s nothing but mere silence. Only thunder and the heavy rain slapping against the window, mixed on the spoon and chopsticks drumming against the bowl. 

You felt the atmosphere suffocatingly awkward. This was the first time you and Sunoo ate a meal together and alone. Your schedules usually clashed so you always had your meals alone. Not even breakfast, nor lunch or dinner. The only days you two are on the dining table together were during family dinners, faking smiles, and acting like your marriage is doing fine but deep inside there’s a void that’s slowly damaging your heart. 

“So,” Sunoo broke the silence, making you glance at him. “Why did you choose to go here? You could’ve just, I don’t know, go to another country and disappear.”

Sunoo has always been a cold guy. Always wearing a blank expression and rarely smiling. Not even during your wedding did he flash a smile at you. He acted more like your business partner rather than a spouse. That's why it’s a surprise that he opened a conversation suddenly.

“I have no plans of disappearing at all,” you answered with honesty. “I just want an escape.”

“And you chose here where civilization seemed to have not touched yet,” he commented.

“Are you here to mock my choices Sunoo? Might as well keep your mouth shut by finishing your food,” you spat back, earning a teasing chuckle from your husband.

“You’re fun to tease, why didn’t I do it earlier?” he questioned and you rolled your eyes.

“Because we act like we don’t exist to each other,” you pointed out before you shoved a spoonful of rice in your mouth.

“I started to wonder about that part too,” Sunoo hummed. “Why did we act like strangers rather than just make the marriage work.”

That’s when you stopped. You stared at Sunoo whose eyes were still on you. A thought crossed your mind. The only thing that became a barrier to the two of you.

“You made it clear that you didn’t like the idea of marrying me.” you stated.

“I didn’t say it,” he denied.

“Your face says everything Sunoo,” you sighed. “I know what you’re thinking, we were just leeching your company. That’s very visible in your face when we first met.”

“Then you must have misjudged me.” Sunoo rebutted and your forehead creased.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you try?”

“Well, why didn’t you? It takes two to tango.”

“You think I could just walk up to you and tell you that I want to make this marriage work? I am scared of you Sunoo,” you confessed and your husband’s face distorted into a confused one.

“Scared?”

“I am very much afraid of you,” you told him, voice almost breaking.  “And I don’t know your next move or what you’ll do. That’s why I left.”

With that, you stood up from your seat and left, leaving Sunoo surprised and confused by your sudden confession. It wasn’t new to him that you had your walls high around him but to be scared of him? That’s new.

He looked at his half-empty bowl and then glanced at yours, still a bit full. It guilts him that he had to ruin a supposed peaceful breakfast but at the same time, all he could think of was; what did he do to make you leave?

-

The storm wasn’t pleasant. 

It hurled its fury the next day. It was dark, cold, and all you could hear was how the wind howled against your windows. It felt like any minute now, it’ll tear off your roof. It jolted you awake at six am, with your heartbeat racing in nervousness.

You looked to your left to see your husband was still asleep. Deep in his own slumber like a baby. For a minute you ponder, thinking about yesterday’s argument that brewed tension between you and Sunoo.

You two were trapped in your own storm. Yesterday was suffocating. You two ate together in silence. Watch each other move and walk around in eggshells — and yet, no one dared to approach one another. Afraid that something might snap and flood the house with anger and frustrations.

Sunoo didn’t try to ruin your peace again. Thankfully. He waited, patiently, which never occurs to you because Kim Sunoo has always been an impatient man. He decides immediately. Always logically, always rational, and he never made any mistakes.

Well, perhaps coming here was a mistake for him because now, he’s trapped with you due to the storm and every schedule he had for the week was postponed. You noticed his irritated expression when he made calls with his secretary. You didn’t ask further, scared that he might snap on you instead.

There’s uncertainty on when he will go home, but at the moment, you’re trying your best to be a good host for him in hopes that it might melt something in his cold heart, and reconsider all his plans regarding your marriage — although that’s far from possible, it’s not bad to hope too.

Unable to sleep again, you stood up from your makeshift bed and left the room. Everything’s still dark and it seems like there won’t be any sun today. You switched the lights on and proceeded to your kitchen to make breakfast.

Deciding on a warm mandu soup, you opened your fridge and pantry to check your stocks only to see that you’re missing some important ingredients.

You glanced at your window, wondering if it’s still safe to go outside. Harsh winds were only present and if you made your errands quick, you’d be able to return in no time before it started raining. So you grabbed your windbreaker jacket, wallet, and an umbrella, and left your house quietly.

Mrs. Kim’s grocery mart — the only grocery mart in Seokdo was already open and god bless her sweet heart because it turns out she has made fresh batches of her sticky rice and mandu. You bought two servings for you and Sunoo along with some other stock that could last the storm.

“Wonbin told me that you have a visitor, a handsome one who arrived last Wednesday,” the old lady said while you placed your items inside the black plastic bag.

“Ah, yes, I do,” you told her with a casual tone.

“Was it Jaeyun? You should’ve told me, I have some candies here for him,” she was about to go to the back room to grab some sour snacks when you stopped her immediately.

“No, just a friend,” you answered but Mrs. Kim wasn’t convinced.

“A friend? He doesn’t look friendly, Wonbin told me,” she commented.

“That kid, he’s very judgemental of people,” you laughed before grabbing your stuff. “Thank you for the mandu Mrs. Kim, I’ll be going now.”

“You should pass by Mr. Han’s stall, he managed to catch some fish today, maybe he could spare you some,” the old lady advised and you only nodded to her words.

Mr. Han’s stall was a bit farther from your home, but since rain wasn’t pouring anytime. You decided to change your route and see if he had some available fish for you. 

“Here, here, this one’s fresh, good for stew or maybe sashimi, good for you and your visitor,” the old man said with a smile.

You laughed at his words, “it seems like everyone knows that I have a visitor.”

“Well, it’s rare for city people to visit here, we just knew immediately, just like the first time you arrived here,” he said while gently cleaning the fish for you. “Who is he anyway?”

“A friend,” you said shortly.

“Oh a friend,” the man chuckled. “I guessed he misses you a lot, that's why he visited you.”

“Maybe he does,” you replied shortly, your smile turning small and bitter. It felt bitter on your part and yet, you remained quiet as you waited for the fish to be cleaned and be given to you.

As you walked your way back home, you hummed mindlessly as you kicked the stray rocks on the pavement. 

Miss me? The world must be ending. You thought as you kicked the rock a bit too harsh. You didn’t care about Mr. Han’s words but in some ways, your mind would always go back to the same question; why is your husband here?

You wanted to think about it deeply. It wasn’t helpful to ponder about it when the said topic is just there in house. That’s why you changed your route just to walk a little longer. You didn’t care that the weather wasn’t one with your plans because in just a glimpse — rain showers arrived. Huge, noisy, droplets poured from the sky and you managed to get wet before you opened your umbrella.

You turned to your left, lengthening your route back home but you didn’t care about the harsh downpours because your mind was still thinking about Sunoo. You tried so hard to come up with a good explanation on why he’s here but everything doesn’t make sense at all. You know him, he wouldn’t just make a detour on his peaceful, usual routine just to travel here and pick you up. Who are you even in his life?

It didn’t sink into you that you’ve finally reached your home. That’s when you noticed that the gate’s opened and it left you confused, thinking that maybe the winds were too harsh that it opened the gates. 

It didn’t sink into you that maybe,  just maybe, your husband went out to look for you, not until a strong hand grabbed your arm and as you turned around you came face to face with your husband’s angry expression. Your eyes widened at the sight of him.

“What the hell Sunoo, where were you!?” you shouted, seeing him still in his sleeping clothes drenched in the rain.

“Where were you!?” he asked you back, tone angry. “You were gone when I woke up, I was afraid —”

“That I’d run away? Where do you think I will go Sunoo?” you taunted.

“You could’ve at least told me that you’re going out, there’s a storm! Who in the right mind will go out in the middle of the storm?” he pointed.

“Ask yourself, who’s drenched right now?”

“I panicked y/n, I was scared that something might happen to you.” he reasoned out and that shut you up.

You stared at him for a second, appalled as a scoff of disbelief left your lips. “Scared?”

“I was worried, okay!? Am I not allowed to?” he said and you couldn’t believe what you just heard.

You were stunned. Words didn’t come out of your mouth until a minute passed. “You were…worried?”

“Yes, now, can we stop this and just go inside? We might get sick if we stay here for too long,” Sunoo didn’t even let you say another word when he pulled you back inside your house.

Hearing the door shut close. You were frozen from your place as Sunoo stripped off his wet shirt. He was definitely drenched from head to toe, completely dripping on the floor while you were just a bit thanks to your umbrella and jacket.

“I didn’t think you’d be capable of doing that,” you break the silence, making Sunoo glanced at you with a deadpan expression.

“What?”

“Worry about me,” you told him.

“What kind of husband am I if I don’t worry about my wife who went outside in the middle of the storm?” Sunoo reasoned out. “You should be careful next time, if not, just tell me so I don’t have to worry.”

“Well, why worry now? You never worried about me back then,” you asked.

“I always worry about you,” he confessed and you weren’t convinced, not when his words remained cold and his expression never softened as he looked at you.

“You don’t show it.” you pointed out.

“I just don’t show it,” he clarified.

The thought made you scoff, “you’re unbelievable, aren’t you? How could I be convinced that you’re not lying?”

“Believe what you want then,” he rebutted. 

You didn’t answer him anymore. Weirded out by the contrast of his words and actions, you just passed by him and made your way towards the kitchen. Placing down the plastic bag loudly as you focused on making breakfast. 

The last thing you heard was the bathroom door opening and closing, and that made your heart heavier than before. 

-

That same night, the storm was still surging outside along with the tension inside your house.

No one brought up the conversation again. You two remained quiet, walking on eggshells, as the coldness could be felt both from you two and the weather.

You were still angry. Your husband could see it. It’s not hard when you have that irritated look on your face that makes Sunoo look at you every minute, and yet — you didn’t even spare a single glance at him.

Sunoo doesn’t get your stubbornness. He was irritated by the fact that you don’t want to go home. He wonders why you had the sudden change in your heart when you have always been a quiet wife for him. You never crossed the line after all.

He was used to you being a ghost, his shadow, or his trophy wife who stood by his side. You would always smile and talk with much demureness and softness, but right now, you’re far different from it. All he could see was anger and pure rage in your eyes. He never thought that you’d raise your tone or even talk back to him. But maybe, Sunoo concluded that he’s wrong, and that’s because despite being married for three years, he never really knows you that deeply.

Or perhaps, he didn’t bother getting to know you at all. Sunoo wasn’t oblivious about the way he treated you. He knew from the start, the marriage was purely business only. His parents themselves told him, it’s up to him how he’ll make the marriage work. 

So he did, in his way — and seeing how the events turned, he seemed that his ways were a failure.

You’re probably tired of your life, that’s why you left. But one logic Sunoo couldn’t understand was why? That wasn’t your personality at all. Despite the loveless marriage, you were persistent, not to him but to your company. He knew that you care for it and your family, and running away was the last thing you’d do. You’re not going to drop all of your responsibilities like a hot potato.

There’s definitely a bigger reason why you left all of the sudden. Despite that, Sunoo couldn’t ask you that. He doesn’t want to confront you again, especially since he had arrived all you two did was argue. It gets too repetitive too. 

The only thing he wanted was for the storm to pass by and hopefully, it’ll be safe now to travel and return to Seoul. He had hoped that the storm would be just a day or two worth because right now, it has become too dangerous even though he’s under a roof.

The man found himself by your kitchen. Mug on his left while the thermos was on his other side. He couldn’t sleep. The weather wasn’t pleasant at all. It was too noisy for him and it left him agitated. Sunoo convinced himself that that’s the reason why he’s sleepless, and not because of something else.

“You’re still awake?” a voice surprised him all of the sudden. Turning around, Sunoo sees you standing by the doorway.

“Can’t sleep,” he answered simply as the thunder roared against the downpour. “The storm’s too noisy for me to sleep in.”

“Oh. Okay,” you acknowledged before your feet moved. Sunoo watched as you went to the fridge to grab yourself some water. He then glanced at the wall clock. It was past two am and it seemed like the storm’s not going to dissolve any moment.

“Can’t sleep either?” Sunoo asked. You nodded as an answer before placing down the glass on the sink, and instead of returning to your room, you leaned against the counter which confused your husband.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you eyed the mug Sunoo was holding.

“Making tea? From whatever I could find here,” he said with confusion. 

“Here,” you opened your fridge to grab the peach extract your neighbor gave you. Place it on the kitchen counter before going to the second drawer below where your tea bags were placed. 

“Peppermint,” Sunoo muttered as he read the label.

“Calms my mind,” you said with feigned nonchalance as you remained in your place, a close distance to your husband.

“Hopefully this works for me,” Sunoo commented and the two of you fell into deep silence. You watched as Sunoo made tea for himself, careful and meticulous just like how he does with his coffee. 

“Do you want some?” he asked within a minute and you stared.

“You’d make me?” you asked, although jokingly, your husband seemed to have not noticed the tone in your voice.

“If you want me to.” Sunoo answered casually.

On most days you would’ve rejected Sunoo’s offer. You should’ve rejected his offer but you feel like tea would’ve been a good drink for your sleepless self. That’s why nodded and he grabbed another mug for you, making the same tea for you. Not a minute passed and he handed the mug to you which you accepted with a short smile.

“It’s sweet,” you commented as you took a sip.

“I like my tea sweet,” Sunoo muttered.

You nodded, “I know, you always have a sweet tooth.”

“How come?”

“I couldn’t ignore the sweet pastries and chocolates in our fridge Sunoo,” you pointed out. “You’re the only one who probably loves to buy those kinds of things.”

He looked at you. “Do you not like sweets?”

“I’m more of a sour girl.” you hummed.

“Ah, no wonder we never ran out of sour patches and sour belts in our pantry,” he commented and that made you chuckle.

The conversation ended in an abrupt silence and yet, you felt no awkward beat to it. The rain served as your background noise while minute-by-minute, you took a sip on the tea your husband made when suddenly, the wind howled again, slamming against the window making you flinch.

“You okay?” Sunoo asked, noticing your scared expression.

“Just surprised,” you quickly brushed it off. “The storm’s scary isn’t it?”

“Did you have trouble sleeping during your stay here?” he asked once again and that made you glance at him.

“Only during nights like this,” you commented. “It’s a storm. I was afraid that any minute it’ll flood my house or take away my roof. That has become my fear, I guess.”

“So why stay here? You mentioned that there’s better houses to stay in here.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, got too lazy to move out. Got used to it too. That’s why I’m here.”

“Are you scared of the storm?” Sunoo asked.

“Who wouldn’t be? It’s a catastrophe,” you answered and he understood what you meant.

A beat passed. The two of you melted into the silence comfortably against the raging storm, you took a sip on your tea as the sweet, warm taste slid through your throat.

“How did you find me?” you asked.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked you back.

You chuckled, “Well, curiosity kills the cat, don’t they?”

“I’ve found you through Jake.” he answered and you raised an eyebrow. Has your brother given up and ended up telling Sunoo about your whereabouts?

“Jake told you?”

“No, I hired an investigator to follow Jake and trail his whereabouts,” Sunoo explained casually. “It was obvious that he knows something, but he just doesn’t want to tell me, and I don’t want to put more stress on him that’s why I hired someone to just stalk him instead.”

“Huh,” that was the only thing you could say and yet, it didn’t surprise you at all given that your husband must be that desperate to track you down.  “That’s such a crazy thing to do.”

“Not as much crazier as running away.” Sunoo pointed out and you laughed.

“Touche,” you only said before a bitter smile formed your lips. You finished your drink a minute passed and placed down the mug. “You asked me why here right?”

“Right, why here in Seokdo?”

You became quiet for a moment, “We used to have a helper when I was a kid. She was kind, old — she was like a second mother to me. She lived here in Seokdo but went to Seoul to find a job.”

Sunoo only listened, he noticed as the smile on your face became fond as you recall your childhood days. 

“She always tells me about her life here and somehow, I was curious. I wondered about life here in this tiny isle because it seems so mundane and peaceful,” you told him, the smile on your face never even fading.

“Did it exceed your expectations?”

“It did, on sunny days, it’s beautiful here,” you answered. “It’s warm and the folks were friendly, we would throw community gatherings, which made me feel like I’m part of their town.”

“But most days, it’s rainy here, mostly harsh rains and winds. I do end up sleepless. I didn’t notice that I’ve become scared of the storm,” you explained to him.

“What do you do when you can't sleep?”

“I just think, sometimes overthink, about things that don't make sense,” you joked but deep inside you were serious. Most nights wherein you couldn’t sleep all you could think of were your decisions in life — both past and future. It made you think whether your choices were right or not.

Sure you could consider that your days in Seokdo were bright and peaceful but most nights, you find yourself alone in your room, wondering if it’s right for you to stay here for the rest of your lives, hiding from your husband. 

Noticing your worried expression, Sunoo didn’t say another word, and instead, he took a final sip on his tea before placing the mug on the kitchen counter.

“It’s bad for us to stay late, we should go to sleep now,” he announced, making you glance at him.

“What —”

“Come on now,” he said before he guided you back to your shared room. You weren’t able to rebut anymore, not when he’s tugging you towards your shared room.

As you reached the room, Sunoo pulled your mattress close to his, along with your pillows and blanket before laying on it.

“Come on now,” he ordered, patting the empty space.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Going to sleep?” Sunoo stated the obvious. “You said you couldn’t sleep, and I don’t know, but maybe you’re just lonely here. I thought — maybe, this would help.”

You thought it was a dumb suggestion. Seeing your cold husband avoid eye contact and stumble through his words, you find it funny yet endearing to see him trying to give you comfort. You still find his actions odd and yet, having no room to argue, you lay beside him.

“Is this okay?” Sunoo asked and before you could’ve asked, your husband scoot closer to you. Arms wrapped around your waist as he gently rubbed circles on your back.

“This is weird,” you mumbled, eyes shut as you can feel your husband’s warmth engulfing your whole body.

“How is it weird?” he asked.

“You know what I mean Sunoo.”

“I don’t see it as something weird given that we’re married,” without saying another word, Sunoo pulled you even more closer to his touch that your head’s almost resting to his chest. You could hear how his heart beat rapidly. It made you wonder if it’s because of the sudden affection you two have made.

“You should go get some rest,” he told you and yet, the position only made you even more sleepless.

“How come you would always say that,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Saying that we’re married,”

“Well, I’m just reminding you, because it seems like you’ve forgotten,” he stated.

You laughed softly. “That’s why this is weird, we don’t even act like one.”

“It’s not about the fact that we act like we’re a couple,” Sunoo pointed. “I am just reminding you that legally, you’re binded to me — and so am I to you, we’re stuck together unless —”

“Unless what Sunoo?” you asked.

Sunoo became quiet for a moment. A pause filled the room but you felt his hand tightened on your waist as a minute passed before he shook his head.

“Nevermind,” he said in defeat. “Let’s go to sleep now.”

-

No one brought up what happened last night.

Last night seemed to be a weird spur of the moment between the two of you. It’s probably because of the storm and the glimpse of loneliness. That’s probably why, you are convinced as you glanced at the window where rain continued to pour. You’ve been stuck with Sunoo for almost two days and yet, you two are in this silent truce of not opening any fight nor argument in order to maintain peace inside the house.

You two ate in silence. You cook, Sunoo washes the dishes. When neither are doing chores, you’re either reading or listening to music while Sunoo busies himself with his phone. Trying his best to complete some task that he left in the city. Mornings were quiet, but confusing.

Yet, despite that odd morning, you found yourself in the same position tonight. Wrapped in Sunoo’s arms, head resting on his chest, close enough for his warmth and beating heart.

So did the following night.

And the night after that.

Still, no one had the courage to bring up all that night you two spent cuddling in the midst of the storm. Maybe, you two wanted warmth. This has been the first time you two ever shared any type of skinship willingly, and it was weird. Practically weird given that you two never tried to fix your marriage and by the looks of it, your relationship’s far too ruined to be fixed.

You just hope that the storm would pass by now, so that you wouldn’t overthink anymore, at how your cold husband could give you that much warmth and comfort.

-

The storm disappeared after three days of nonstop downpour.

The sky’s still dark, but there were no more gray clouds around. The aftermath wasn’t that pleasant. You’ve heard that there’s a lot of damaged crops and livestock due to the storm.

The whole townspeople moved immediately. Fishing had started and people were clearing out the dirtied road. Some were invited to clear out the crop fields. Hopefully, they could salvage more crops than what was damaged. Everyone was encouraged to help — that includes you.

Sunoo had insisted that he should help. You were hesitant knowing your husband’s lifestyle, but in the end, he trailed behind you as you two walked towards the farm area where some townspeople greeted you with a smile and a concerned look on their face.

“Oh, is that your friend?” one of the elders asked as she pointed at Sunoo.

Your eyes darted at Sunoo who stood there confused. “N-no, uhm, he’s my husband.”

You noticed how Mrs. Kim’s eyes widened, “husband? You didn’t tell me you were married!”

You laughed awkwardly, “it’s a long story auntie, but I’ll just save it for another day. We’re here to help with the crops after all.”

Mrs. Kim didn’t pry further, leaving you alone as you watched her go to the other older folks, probably going to spread the news that the stranger that visited you wasn’t just a friend — but your husband. You let it be as you began walking towards a part of the field while Sunoo followed you.

“What was that?” Sunoo asked but you waved off your hands.

“Nothing, come on now, I’m going to teach you how to check if the tomatoes are salvageable,” you told him, who only nodded.

Sunoo was able to adapt quickly — too quick for someone who grew up in the city. The elders seemed to love him. They were in awe of his beauty and manners. It shouldn’t surprise you given that Sunoo has always been good-looking, but you find it funny how he ended up breaking his cold demeanor for the elders.

You watched him get pulled by some older aunties, separating him from you as he was tasked to carry a box full of tomatoes and carry it towards the pickup truck. You could only laugh as you continued your task when you felt a shadow hover over you.

“Seems like I am not needed here,” you turned around to see him standing in front of you. He gave you his signature dimpled smile, making you smile too.

“Jungwon, you’re here,” you said before giving him a hug which he reciprocated. “How are you? The storm was pretty intense?”

“Safe, very safe and fine, Maeumi’s fine too, but she keeps on barking whenever there's thunder,” he explained, and you only smiled.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re safe,” you said to him who hummed as he crossed his arms.

“How about you? Heard from Mr. Han that you have a friend visiting, but it seems like he’s more than just a friend,” Jungwon teased and you gave him a knowing smile.

“My husband’s here,” you announced and immediately, there’s a shift in Jungwon’s expression.

“Oh, your husband’s here,” Jungwon mused before chuckling. “Well, it’ll be a shame for me not to introduce myself right?”

“You're not going to cause any trouble, are you?” you eyed him but he only shrugged.

“You know I don’t want to cause you any harm y/n,” he answered meaningfully.

You glanced at him for a second before giving you a signal for you two to approach Sunoo who’s still by the pickup truck. Your husband seemed to have noticed you immediately, but his eyes darted towards Jungwon and from there, he sensed something strange.

“Sunoo, this is Jungwon, Seokdo’s village chief,” you introduced, and from that moment, Sunoo had felt a bad feeling about the former.

“Jungwon, Sunoo, my husband,” you introduced and that should’ve given Sunoo some pride but the way Jungwon looked at him — it feels like the man’s dissecting him.

“Nice to meet you, y/n told me about you,” Jungwon gave him a dimpled smile before offering his hand. 

“Good things, I hope,” Sunoo said as he accepted it for formality, and yet, he couldn’t ignore the way Jungwon’s smile turned into a small smirk.

“Of course, y/n’s very nice, you’re a lucky man, you know?” Jungwon removed his hand from Sunoo. 

“I don’t even know what you’re trying to imply,” the older one answered sharply.

“Just a compliment,” Jungwon shrugged casually before darting his attention to someone else. “I think Mr. Hong’s calling for me, excuse me.”

As Jungwon left the two of you, Sunoo noticed how your eyes trailed towards the younger for a minute. His mind wandered all of the sudden.

“He looks young,” Sunoo commented. 

“Yeah, his father used to be the village chief, but since Mr. Yang’s bedridden now, Jungwon’s took over his position,” you explained before giving your husband a small smile. “Are you done already?”

“No, not yet, I think the grandmas are calling me again,” Sunoo excused, leaving you there alone while his mind was clouded with unpleasant thoughts.

The afternoon passed by in a blur. Almost half of the crops were disposed of. Sunoo could feel his body weary and tired, and yet, he didn’t complain. The least he could do was help the village, and also because he was amused by the grandmas who seemed to like him too.

“Ah look at those two, they’re together again,” one of the grandmas commented, making Sunoo stop to look in the direction they were staring. 

It was you, with Jungwon, laughing as you two were by a corner, arranging the good crops and placing it on a box. The conversation seemed to be lighthearted but Sunoo couldn’t help but to notice how close you two are.

“Young love I must say,” another one stated but she was nudged by her friend, making her complain.

“What do you mean love? Y/n’s married, they’re just probably friends,” she corrected.

“That doesn’t look like friends to me.”

“They do look pretty close and cozy with each other. If the husband was out of the picture, they would make a good couple.”

“You two shut your mouths! Have some respect for her husband —” the moment one of the grandma’s eyes landed on Sunoo, she looked guilty, and hushed her friends. They all complained at the sudden change of the grandma’s attitude, not even noticing that Sunoo’s just nearby them, who unfortunately, had heard everything.

Sunoo’s eyes darted once again at the two of you. Observing thoroughly how you smile and laugh without any wariness while Jungwon’s leaned closer to you. Sunoo didn’t notice that his grip tightened on the box when Jungwon whispered something to your ears. 

Then you’d laugh. You’d laugh loud like it was the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. Sunoo had never heard you laugh that loud, not even your twin brother’s joke would make you laugh that hard. It made him wonder — how close you and Jungwon are.

It didn’t help that throughout the whole afternoon, you and Jungwon were together. Even after the end of the day and everything had gone home after helping, you stayed to talk to Jungwon, for another hour or more. 

If it wasn’t for Sunoo’s impatient self, then you probably would’ve spent the night talking to Jungwon. Even on the way home, the smile on your face remained. There’s a sharp bitterness that hit Sunoo as you two walked home. Mind confused as he remembered those nights where you’re within his touch but now he’s became a total stranger to you.

Him — your supposed husband suddenly felt like a ghost the moment Jungwon came into the picture. 

That’s when he wondered. He doesn’t want to assume things about you, but Sunoo couldn’t help it, not when you look happier when you’re with him.

“You’re close with the village chief,” Sunoo commented the moment you two entered the living room, making you stop to glance at him, the smile on your face became more genuine.

“Wonnie? Yeah he helped me adjust here,” you shared casually, not noticing the way Sunoo’s jaw slackened at your words. 

“Wonnie,” he chuckled in disbelief. “You seemed closer than I thought.”

That’s when you stopped, turning around to face him who had nothing but a cold, observant stare.

“What are you trying to imply?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Should I be worried? For the past seven months you were gone, you’re here, getting well-adjusted with a man,” he spoke and his tone was filled with accusation. 

But instead of a guilt-stricken expression, a smile on your lips curved. You seemed aware and yet, not scared of the sudden confrontation. “Are you saying…Jungwon and I had a relationship?”

“Have, dear, because it seems like it’s continuing even though I am here now.” Sunoo concluded.

You two became quiet. You stared at him for a moment as your heart started beating rapidly.

“You’re right,” you admitted with a smile on your lips. There wasn’t a hint of guilt in your tone, and it was as if it was something to be proud of.

“Cheater.” your husband accused and that’s when you let out a mocking laugh.

You looked at him with disbelief in a split second. “Oh, we’re going on that route now? Why are you so affected by it, Sunoo? We’re married in papers only, we don’t even act as a couple at all.”

“You should’ve at least respected the sanctity of our marriage —”

“Bullshit Sunoo, our marriage isn’t out of love. Our marriage is purely business, so don’t act all moral just because I looked for someone else.” you snarled at him. 

“Why do you have to do that?” he asked, and you were confused by how he sounded so betrayed by your actions.

“Are you really asking that question?” you asked rhetorically. 

“Just answer the damn question,” he ordered.

“Because I’m so lonely Sunoo,” you confessed, feeling that heavy weight on your chest disappear. “I’m so lonely in our marriage that our house felt more like a cage to me.”

“That’s why you left, and thankfully met Jungwon because it seems like you’re not lonely anymore,” Sunoo mocked and you only nodded to his words.

“Right, because he was there for me. Jungwon was there during my worst days. Listened to my worries — in fact, he acted more like my husband than you did.” you explained and word by word, Sunoo felt his system turning into knots.

“How far did you two go?” he asked out of nowhere, and you halted.

“What?”

“Did he touch you? Slept with him?” Sunoo asked accusingly and you shook your head.

“Does that matter Sunoo?” you answered.

“So he did, holy fuck, you let yourself get fucked by him?” your husband concluded.

“And he’s more than what I’ve imagined.” you added.

“You think I’d be affected by that?”

“You’re seething Sunoo, I can see it in your eyes that you’re mad,” you pointed out.

“Fuck right I am! You are my wife, why did you…fuck, why did you let another man touch you?” he asked, tone breathy and shaky as his eyes remained on you, betrayed and hurt. “Am I not enough?”

It made your forehead creased. How could your husband act this way all of the sudden? “You never touched me Sunoo, not even once — do you even remember our wedding night?”

“So you slept with him to spite me.” Sunoo concluded.

“During our wedding night, I was willing to give myself to you. It’s the least I could contribute to our marriage, be a good wife for you but all you did was stare.” you answered, completely ignoring his words.

“I didn’t want to sleep with you out of obligations, I don’t want to pressure you into giving yourself to me,” he reasoned out but you shook your head immediately. 

“I was willing to give myself to you Sunoo. You should’ve asked me if I wanted to rather than look at me so disgustingly that all I could think of was —” a deep sigh of disappointment escaped your lips before you looked at him, eyes already glassy. “Shit, am I not that attractive enough for you?”

“That’s why you fucked around with Jungwon?”

“Because he sees me Sunoo! Something you never tried! you couldn’t even spare a single glance on me —”

“That’s when you’re wrong,” Sunoo rebutted. “You think I don’t see you? Do you even know how hard it was for me to control myself from fucking you that night? Or everyday when I see you in those damn pencil skirts or silk night gowns. You’re a walking temptation to me.”

“So why didn’t you? I am your wife, you have the right,” you pointed out.

“Don’t fucking test me. You don’t know that I’ve been holding it for three fucking years. All the times I rubbed it off in my bed or in the shower pathetically as I wondered what you feel like wrapped around my cock.”

The air shifted all of a sudden. Your breath halted as Sunoo took a step forward. The gap between you two became small.

“Tell me to stop,” he told you. “Or don’t. Don’t tell me to stop. Tell me to take you right here, right now because I know you want this too. I know how you’ve been dying to get fucked by me, am I right?”

You only stared at him. Both of you hold a staring contest as the air becomes more intense, suffocated by the years of repressed and hidden desires you two had for each other.

With no objection from you, Sunoo moved, taking a step forward which led you to take a step back.

“You said you’re my wife. That means I have the right to you, don’t I? So if I bend you over here and take you over and over again until the only cock you could think of was mine, you’re not going to complain, right?” he asked, tone deeper than usual. Your words got stuck on your throat as your husband gazed at you like a predator.

Before you could’ve moved, Sunoo had pushed you against the wall. His hands find themselves on your waist, holding it tight as you gasp for air.

A beat and two passed by, no one moved.

“Seeing how you’re not even attempting to struggle, that means you want this too,” Sunoo darkly laughed as he brushed the stray hair strands out of your face. He looked at you clearly, seeing how your eyes wander at any place other than his. 

“Look at me,” he cupped your cheeks aggressively, making you face him with a whine. His fox-like eyes were all you could see. It was filled with nothing but wanting — something in him was yearning for you — his gaze was completely different from his usual cold expression

“Are you scared?” Sunoo asked and you blinked, before slowly you shook your head as answer.

That was his signal. Your husband didn’t hesitate to carry you towards the bedroom. Gently, he placed you down at the unkept bed mattress on the floor and that’s when your heart stopped.

“You’ve thought about this, haven't you?” he asked. “During our wedding night? I’m sorry if I have disappointed you.”

He crawled on top of you and without any words, started working on buttons of your blouse. He was eager, like a predator ready to feast on his prey — that thought had you fisting on the sheets while the moment your husband pushed your blouse away, revealing your bra, he let out a deep chuckle.

“Last chance to stop this,” Sunoo warned as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his toned body that made you gulp at the sight. You didn’t stop him nor did you push him away. All you did was stare at him who observed you thoroughly.

“You sure?” Sunoo taunted. Seeing that he was only met with silence, your husband leaned down on you. His face was an inch close to you that both your noses bumped onto each other. His lips grazed on yours that your throat felt dry at the tension.

“I’m not going to hold back dear,” he warned before closing the gap. His lips moved to meet yours. Slow at first not until he pushed himself deeper to get a taste of you. Feeling his lips lick through your lower lip, you groaned harshly at his action before without any thoughts — you kissed him back.

Your mind was screaming to push him away. This is wrong — yet it was dangerously addictive. It was your curiosity. It took you three damn years to get a taste of your husband’s affection towards you.

If that wasn’t enough, Sunoo broke the kiss first. You were catching your breath as your stare at him became obvious, looking so innocent yet needy that your husband immediately caught it. A deep laugh escaped his lips. It seems like the past few days you were so stubborn but just a snap, you submitted to him so willingly. 

“You’re not going to need this,” he told you as he pulled your blouse away, tossing it somewhere before reaching your bra and unclasping it in a second.

You let him undress you. Embarrassment washed through your body as he pulled your pants down along with your panty. Both of you froze as the last piece of garments was thrown somewhere in the room. Your husband’s stare on you lingered longer than it should be. You couldn’t help but to cover your body with your arms but he was quick to swat it away. 

“Shit,” Sunoo cursed. Disbelief boiled in his system as his stare on you became longer. He wanted to memorize every piece of you. Every curve, flaws, and moles scattered on your body. 

He couldn’t believe he held back for three years when his wife’s body could envy every goddess to ever exist.

You’re far from what he had dreamt of — no, you were a fucking dream. All his thoughts and desires about you exceeded his expectations. Sunoo couldn't fathom the reality that another man had seen your naked glory before he could’ve.

That was his mistake. He should’ve claimed you during your wedding night. He shouldn’t be a gentleman to you if you were actually willing to give yourself to him. You were so lucky that he could control himself. You didn’t know that behind his cold facade was a monster who couldn’t take his eyes away from his lovely wife. 

He’ll curse you that night. Approaching him with silence and patience, in that white slip-on silk night gown. You were a freaking angel from above, and god, it took him years to know what you were hiding behind that thin layer.

At the same time, Sunoo was also a man with dignity. He respected you and your arrangement. He’s not someone who lets his urges win — but tonight, something in him shifted. He wanted to claim you and taint your body with nothing but him.

He approached you closely, observing, wondering while his hands travelled on your bare skin, an audible gasp escaped your lips as you felt an electrified touch lingering at every part he touched. 

“All of this…is mine?” he asked with utter surprise. You couldn’t answer his thoughts, not when his hands reached your thighs, gripping it softly on its plush skin before pushing for it to be spread in front of you.

“Shit, you’re already fucking wet for your husband,” he whispered and you remained quiet, observing your husband who gathered your slick from your entrance. Playing with it before putting it in his mouth. Shock was all you could feel as Sunoo glanced at you with a smirk on his face.

Sunoo went for a kiss once again. Soft with the lingering taste of your musk. It was sweet and addicting that your lips moved to get a taste of that nectar. The room became hotter as you could feel your skin make contact with Sunoo’s naked torso. He was too warm for someone cold.

It made you wonder, what he’s like down there. Your curiosity gave you a glimpse as Sunoo pulled you closer to him while his lips traveled down to your neck, leaving wet, messy kisses that left you breathless. Feeling his hard bulge against your naked cunt, you felt the heat on your core aching, making you whine as your husband busied himself on leaving marks on your skin.

“Sunoo —” a moan escaped your lips as your husband licked your nipples, making it hard against his tongue.

“Shh, just lay there dear, let me have this,” Sunoo hushed softly before he turned his attention towards your breasts once again. You let him play with it, feeling him suck and bite your right nipple hard that you were whining in pain before he proceeded to repeat the same action on the left.

The growing ache down your core started to become too painful to ignore, you couldn’t help but to buck your hips upwards, hoping to feel any friction from your husband who seemed to be taking his time worshipping your chest.

“Sunoo please —”

“Have some fucking patience,” he snarled at you. “I’ve waited three years for this, I am going to take my time.”

“Can you — please, just please, I want you inside me now.” you begged pathetically that it made Sunoo stop.

“Look at you, begging for my cock like a slut, who would’ve thought my wife has this side of her?” Sunoo taunted, a chuckle leaving his lips as he cupped your cheeks once again.

Your eyes were watery, almost whining as you called out his name once again making your husband smirk wider.

“Ah, what should I do? I wonder if this is how you beg Jungwon too. Did you kneel in front of him? Suck his dick hard just to get fucked?” he mocked devilishly.

“No.” you muttered but Sunoo only cocked an eyebrow.

“No?” he questioned, doubtful of your answer. “What? Did you lay there pretty while he ate you out? Or was it just a quick fuck for you?”

“Do you want to know?” you asked him, patient already thinning. “Do you really want to know how Jungwon fucked me so good that I stayed in bed the next day? Do you want to know how he filled me up to the brim that I could still feel him inside me? Is that what you want for me to confess, dear husband?”

“Fucking slut.” he cursed and you only laughed.

“Guess I bruised your ego with that one, couldn’t accept the fact someone touched your wife huh?”

“That’s fine, I guess I’ll just the fuck the hell out of you until you reminded who you really belong to,” he spat before proceeding to flip you without any warning.

Your knees scraped on the floor before he lifted your hips upwards for him. A slap stung your asscheeks making you yelp in pain but the only thing you heard was your husband’s dark chuckle as he untied the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

“You want to get fucked? Oh, you’ll get fucked like a dirty slut you are,” Sunoo muttered under his breath as he released his cock free from its strain, already hard and angry red. Using his spit to lube his length, Sunoo lined his tip on your warm and wet entrance.

“On second thought,” he murmured. “Why don’t you fuck yourself on my cock? Show me how needy you are for your husband’s cock.”

A whimper was your only answer. Head low as embarrassment flushed through you. You were almost crying as you shook your head. 

“Don’t you want it?”

“Go to hell Sunoo,” you cursed at him and your husband wasn’t fazed. 

“I’ll see you there,” he laughed before without any warning, inserted himself inside you, making you scream loudly. You could feel his thick girth ripping your walls in just a split-second, hot tears streamed through your eyes out of pain and pleasure that you froze from your position.

“Come on dear, I already put it inside,” your husband taunted before slapping your butt once again. The sting sent shivers down your spine but everything faded when your husband hovered over you. His breath fanned against your ear before he placed a gentle kiss on its shell.

“You don’t want to test my patience don’t you? You want my cock? You’ve got to earn it,” he whispered to you, and that’s when you fold for him.

All your pride came crumbling down the moment you thrust your hips backwards to meet his cock. You moved on your own, making a use of your husband who remained in his place, watching his wife fucked herself in his cock. He could only chuckle as he slapped your ass once again, making you cry further as you thrusted faster than before. 

“Good wife,” he teased as his eyes never left your body. Watching how his cock disappeared inside your pussy, Sunoo couldn’t help but to groan in pleasure before he snapped his hips to meet yours halfway.

“Sunoo —”

“Don’t fucking stop,” he ordered and you nodded at his words before continuing your actions. You didn’t stop and instead moved faster and more hastily, letting his cock plunge inside you so deeply that you started to babble messy cries.

Embarrassment washed all over you as all the burning anger you had for your husband was replaced with nothing but that immense pleasure on your cunt. You found yourself getting high at the act, drowned at the act as lewd sounds escaped your lips.

It didn’t help that Sunoo’s starting to move too, his hands gripped around your waist, fingers dipping on the plush of your skin as he followed your rhythm, meeting your movement halfway, creating a more intense sensation on your pussy.

“Fuck — shit! So fucking tight huh? Even after sleeping with someone else, your pussy’s still tight,” he taunted before grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing your face down the mattress. A cry escaped your mouth  as your husband’s thrust became rough and harsh, as if he was angry at the idea of someone touching you.

“Have to — ha — remind you — who you fucking belong to,” Sunoo said in between his thrusts before lifting your hips further for him, and with the new angle, he rammed you without any mercy, burned with jealousy and pride to claim you as his own cockslut.

“You like that dear? I could feel your pussy tightening around my cock? You like getting fucked by your husband’s cock?” you couldn’t even answer him, your face remained buried on the soft pillows, already wet with your tears and drool while your husband continued to rail you like a madman.

You could feel yourself getting numb at your husband’s actions. Sunoo didn’t stop, his stamina was quite strong as all you could hear was his hefty groans and degrading words for you. You didn’t even notice the intense churn on your stomach as Sunoo’s shaft continued to abuse your g-spot nonstop.

Along with your cries, your orgasm came without any notice. A grunt escaped from Sunoo as he felt your pussy tightening as your muffled cries could be heard. He smirked at your pathetic self who came without any warning. He pulled your hair once again and all you could do was breathe as your husband didn’t stop his movements.

“Cumming without any warning, you really wanted to be punished, right?” he fumed. 

“I don’t — I’m sorry,” you babbled, too focused on how your husband snapped his cock inside your cunt.

“Aw, look at you, you’re such a fucking mess, always a mess for me pick up, aren’t you?”

Sunoo stopped for a second before he flipped you once again. Your back hit the mattress before he crawled over you. He stared at you with your hair sprawled all over the pillow, glassy eyes, and cheeks filled with tear stains.

You couldn’t help but to tear up once again, the frightening feeling hovering over you as your husband’s stare lingered at you longer.

“Fuck, you’re so ruined for me,” he teased, wiping your tears so gently before he slides himself once again and gave you a sharp thrust. Your back arched naturally as a cry of pleasure left your lips.

“Come on, cry for me, pretty girl — want you to look ruin for me,” his thrusts never stopped, not even when your pussy started clamping around his cock once again.

“Open your mouth,” Sunoo ordered and without any thoughts, you opened your mouth and without any thoughts, your husband spit on your mouth, making you flinch by the act.

“You’re mine, got that?” he claimed while his hips continued abusing your cunt nonstop. You could feel your skin bruising at its intensity but all you could do was mewl and cry before nodding.

“Y-yes, yours Sunoo —” you said in between your tears.

The room became hotter and hotter, smelling like sex as both bodies moved in one rhythm. He could feel it, his orgasm coming in a minute. Everything’s becoming too sensitive for him and your warm, wet cunt wasn’t helping at all.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned. Everything’s becoming too overwhelming for him but despite that, it crossed his mind what you’ve said earlier.

“Fuck, I’m going to fill you up,” Sunoo announced. “Fill your pussy with cum until it leaks out, breed you — give you my babies. Fuck, you’re driving me insane woman.”

“Please,” you whined, feeling another orgasm churning in your stomach.

Sunoo chuckled at your attempt, “shit you want that? You want your husband to breed his cock-drunk slut? You want to carry my kids, don’t you?”

You nodded, tears still streaming from your eyes as your grip on the sheets became tighter — and that only drove Sunoo to go animalistic. The sight of you being a mess, whining and begging him to breed you urges him to go rougher.

Sounds of wet skin slapping against each other echoed inside the room along with the cries and whimpers from your lips. All of your senses have been heightened up, eyes turning white as your second orgasm came crashing down once again.

Sunoo followed in a second, his groan loud and guttural as he released a dump of his cum inside you. The warm feeling of being filled by your husband’s cum made you moan unknowingly. Sunoo didn’t stop, even when his legs were shaking and his breathing’s unstable, he didn’t stop thrusting inside you, wanting every last drop of his cum to fill you up.

You were catching your breath as a few mewls and whining was all you could do while Sunoo pulled out. He stared at how his cock’s still aching hard, mixed with both your juices, before shifting your attention towards you. 

Gently he wiped the sweat trailing on your forehead. You hummed against his touch before he gave you a kiss on the lips which you accepted without a word.

“On your knees,” he whispered to you and you looked at him confused.

“What?”

“On your fucking knees,” he repeated. “I’m not done with you dear. I have to make sure you’ll be swollen with my cum that all you could think of was how I took you over and over again.”

You didn’t say another word. All you could do was let out a shaky cry before stumbling to get on your knees. 

Without any warning, Sunoo plunges his cock inside your still sensitive pussy once again. You couldn’t do anything but to accept it and what awaits you that night.

-

Last night was a mistake.

That’s what you insist as you wander around Seokdo. It was still dawn. The sky’s still gray and tiny downpours accompanied you in your walk. 

You can still feel your legs numb, core aching, and despite taking a long shower, you can still feel him inside you — just like what your husband swore to you.

You thought about last night and everything that happened after that. The way Sunoo touched you, took you over and over until you couldn’t think of anything other than him — you cursed at your helpless self.

That shouldn’t happen. You shouldn’t have succumbed to him. It felt wrong in every possible way. You felt your pride all bruised-up because no matter how much you try to convince yourself that you hate and loathe Kim Sunoo, you still ended up submitting to him.

You felt your body twitch as you recall how he claimed you like any husband would to their wife — and you felt the churn in your stomach when you remembered how you’ve consented to every part of it. All the words that left your lips last night made you groan in frustration as you continued walking mindlessly around the small isle.

“Y/n, isn’t it too early for your walk?” you freezed when you heard a familiar voice. You turned around to see Jungwon who had a smile on his face.

You smiled, short and simple as the man approached you. “Good morning Jungwon, you’re awake already I can see.”

The village chief hummed, “Grandma Hong wanted help with delivering her some cabbages to the market and I’m actually on my way home when I saw you.”

“That’s kind of you,” you commented and he gave you a dimpled smile.

“You seemed alone, where’s your husband?” he asked, and the mention of your husband made you flinch.

“Still asleep. I just want to clear my mind, that's why I went for a walk.” you answered immediately.

“Then, you wouldn’t mind if I accompany you?” Jungwon asked.

You smiled, this time genuine as you nodded, “of course Won.”

The two of you continued walking quietly. Jungwon’s presence has always felt calm to you and it did help you calm your mind. He didn’t pry, not when his curiosity could be felt with the way he glanced at you from time to time. You were grateful for it. All you wanted was peace of mind. 

By the time you two are near the port, overseeing the lighthouse, you two stopped and watched the waves splash against the pier deck.

That’s when you talked.

“Sunoo had learned about us,” you told Jungwon whose eyes remained in the deep, gray ocean.

“He’s great at observing then — we weren’t subtle at the field either,” Jungwon joked and that made you chuckle.

“I admitted it to him, and one thing led to another,” you added and Jungwon didn’t react. He only nodded slowly.

“Ah, that’s why you weren’t able to answer last night. I went to your place, but felt like I was disturbing something private,” the man explained and that’s when your eyes went wide.

“Oh my god.” you groaned.

But Jungwon only chuckled, “So, you two had fixed your relationship then?”

“No — I don’t, it was a spur of a moment Jungwon,” you insisted. “It feels wrong.”

“Wrong? He’s your husband.” he questioned.

“He’s only my husband, he’s not the one I love.” you clarified.

Jungwon became quiet at your words. He stared at you for a second before shifting his gaze at the ocean. The two of you became quiet as a sharp rumble of thunder roared in the sky.

“Do you think this is love?” Jungwon asked and that’s when you glanced at him.

“It’s not, we both know that. But if I were being honest, I’ll never regret everything we’ve done.” you explained.

“So did I,” he admitted. “I enjoyed your company, but I wouldn’t call it love. After all, I’m still mourning her.”

You nodded. Agreeing to his words. Love isn’t an easy thing to happen to you. Your relationship with Jungwon, you wouldn’t call it love. Just an escape. An epiphany on your life and marriage. He was just a fleeting moment and maybe, you had concluded, he was just filling in the hole in your heart that your husband was supposed to be filling. 

“I just think we’re just two lonely people in this small isle. Just two lonely people trying to find something they’ve been yearning for from their past relationships” Jungwon explained.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “And that’s all we will be.”

Jungwon nodded. That’s when you two concluded your relationship — just two lonely people in this small isle, standing together, watching the storm in front of them. The waves scattered in different sizes as the gray clouds continued to swallow the sky. Love feels like it doesn’t exist in Seokdo and whatever you and Jungwon had, seemed to be shallower than you think.

And yet, it was more than what you had with your marriage with Sunoo.

“Would it be pathetic if I told you that I would rather stay here in Seokdo with you and our blurry relationship than to return to Seoul with my husband?” you asked Jungwon as the two of you walked back to your home.

Jungwon chuckled. “You’re taking the risk? You have a great life there y/n. May I remind you that your family’s also there? And your company?”

“I was testing if you’d enable me and my bad decisions,” you mumbled.

“I don’t want to be the reason for your bad decisions y/n. A lifetime in Seokdo isn’t that beautiful as it seems, someday, you’ll miss Seoul and the elevators in your sky-rise penthouse.” Jungwon reasoned out.

That’s when you let out a laugh. “But if I get to laugh like this, I’d rather stay here.”

Jungwon stopped for a moment. He looked at you as your smile never faded. His heart skipped for a moment. A selfish thought crossed his mind as his eye never left you.

“Don’t stay here,” Jungwon advised as his stare deepened. Despite that selfish thought of his, his rational mind still won over him.

You gaze upon him. His words had a hint of bitterness on it that you were confused.

“You don’t belong here, you have a company waiting for you. Your brother’s waiting for you in Seoul. You were just meant to hide here, not stay forever,” he explained.

“I was just thinking hypothetically,” you reasoned out.

“It feels like you’re thinking about it seriously,” Jungwon pointed out, tone becoming serious. “Don’t stay because of me, you know I couldn’t love you the same way I have loved her.”

“I know,” you admitted immediately, it was more like a whisper as it felt sour on your tongue. You have accepted the fact that what you and Jungwon had was just a fleeting moment, and yet, it still hurts — how can you be so unlovable?

“I’m sorry,” Jungwon apologized, seeing your hurt expression and watery eyes. You nodded at his words, sniffing your tears away when suddenly you felt someone snatching your arms.

“What the —”

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Sunoo calmly asked, yet there’s a storm raging in his tone.

“Sunoo please, it’s nothing,” you insisted.

“Don’t cover up for him y/n, now tell me,” your husband ordered.

But Jungwon only smirked, a teasing one as he crossed his arms. “Look at you, acting like a husband to her. Do you know that you're too late for that act?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Do you even know why your wife ran away?” Jungwon clicked his tongue. “Or that she’d rather stay here with me?”

“Stay away from her,” your husband warned.

“I could, but could she stay away from me? I don’t think so, hyung,” the younger taunted.

Sunoo’s grip on yours tightened. His eyes darkened while the younger remained smug before giving you a glance. Jungwon’s eyes softened before mouthing something that you couldn’t comprehend. 

Instead of answering Jungwon, Sunoo turned around and dragged you with him. You were helpless from his strength, almost dragging you back to your house until the last thing you heard was the door closing with a loud thud.

“You’re hurting me Sunoo,” you pleaded but he yanked you closer to him. His eyes were glaring, almost red with anger as he looked at you.

“We’re leaving,” he announced. “We’re going back to Seoul, and I’m not going to let you out of my sight. I am going to make sure that you’ll never escape or run away. This is the last time this will ever happen again. You don’t want to cross me right?”

But a chuckle of disbelief escaped your lips, “those are big words coming from someone who’s planning on divorcing me.”

You watched as Sunoo’s expression shifted immediately. He looked surprised — scared you might notice as his hold softened that you managed to yank your arms away from his hold. Clutching on the purplish mark that for sure, will hurt for the following days.

“How did you know?” he asked, still in shock. 

“Sunoo, the walls of our house are pretty damn thin for a penthouse you know?” you sarcastically said. “So I guess it’s true, and you must be so, so desperate that you chased me all the way here.” 

“How much did you hear?” he asked. 

“It doesn’t matter Sunoo,” you exhaled. “But the truth’s out now, I left because I don’t want to divorce you. Fucking funny right? Because as much as I hate you, I still need you Sunoo.”

“You needed me?” he questioned.

“I needed your name, your reputation — your company’s share in my company because like I have always told you, our marriage is purely business, and divorcing me will ruin everything my family had built.” 

“You think I am stupid to let that happen?”

“I don’t know Sunoo. You have everything, you don’t need me at all. You can discard me anytime you want, that's why you seemed interested in divorcing me.” you reasoned out.

“You’re making me like I’m sort of a heartless monster.”

You laughed at his words. “Aren’t you one, Sunoo? I’ve watched you from a distance for the past three years. All those calculated moves you do during family dinners or important events. The cold and short answers you would give to me — you never even looked at me once, just last night, why now?”

A tear escaped your eyes this time and yet, it felt nothing but the rage that you have bottled to your husband. It burst suddenly. The storm may have passed by but it left a lot of damage between you and your husband.

“For the past three years, I wanted to at least be a good wife to you. If not, a friend or someone you can lean to, but you never want all of it. So, I’m sorry if I am not convinced with everything you do — it’s like you’re scheming me to come home and what awaits there? Our divorce papers, am I right?"

“You’re right,” Sunoo confessed. “I am planning on divorcing you, but you’re wrong on one thing. I am not discarding you just like that.” 

“Is this one of your chivalrous acts Sunoo? Next thing, you’ll tell me you’re divorcing me because you’re letting me go.” you mocked.

“You’re right.”

“Fucking bullshit,” you cursed. “Should I praise you now Sunoo? Drop onto my knees and be grateful that you’re setting me free from our marriage? Wow, you’re not as heartless as I thought you were.”

“Don’t test my patience y/n,” Sunoo warned. “I am doing this for us. This marriage should stop. Everything’s useless.”

You clicked your tongue. “That means my life’s ruined.”

“I am not stupid to let your company fall, y/n.” Sunoo stated. “We still have connections and ties. We’re still partners but there’s no more marriage. We don’t need that anymore.” 

That’s when you became quiet. 

“You’re serious?”

“I don’t take these things as a joke,” Sunoo stated. “Once we divorce, our shares remain but I’ll move out. You can stay in the penthouse. We can still meet but merely as business partners only, and I am going to make sure that the press won’t write any bad articles about you.” 

“That sound like a fucking dream,” you whispered to him, still unconvinced. “You thought about this thoroughly huh? Did you even ask me about this?”

“That doesn’t matter. You don’t need to dwell further on it since we’ll eventually part ways.”

Sunoo left first. Going towards the back door towards the backyard while you remained frozen from your place, unable to process everything your husband just said.

But your feet moved, something in your heart was screaming its frustration towards your husband. You found yourself following Sunoo who’s outside, staring at the gray skies.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you asked, making Sunoo turn around.

“What?”

“You came here, trying to drag me back to Seoul just to divorce me but I — I’ll benefit from it! You’re divorcing me for my own good. Why did you have to force yourself to go here just for me?” you asked and Sunoo became quiet because for the first time ever, he doesn’t have a concrete answer.

All he knows is that the moment he went home that day, and was welcomed by an eerie silence — he knew, something was wrong. 

Ever since he arrived in Seokdo, the question that kept running in his mind was: what drove you to run away? Now that he had heard the real reason, all he could feel was guilt. He may look cold and heartless but Sunoo could still feel — he still has conscience and emotions, and he may have been a distant husband to you, but that seven months of searching for you had taught him one thing.

He needs you. Sunoo needed his wife and he doesn’t know why and how but — he just wants you.

Yet, there’s a part of him who knows that your marriage isn’t perfect anymore. Already ruined by him, the least he could do was to free you and save you from the lifetime of loneliness.

Hence, the divorce.

He knows that you deserve someone better. Someone who could love you wholeheartedly — like Jungwon. It wouldn’t surprise him if you’d return to Seokdo after finalizing the divorce papers. You seemed happier with him after all.

“This is my last duty as your husband.” he answered and you scoffed.

“Pulling that card again?”

“If you want me to stop pulling that card, sign the papers, once it’s ruled by the court, you could return here and live peacefully. I won’t disturb you anymore.” Sunoo proposed.

“Why should I believe you?” you questioned and your husband sighed in frustration.

“Because, like I said before, I care for you, and I care enough for you that I’m willing to travel all the way from Seoul to here, just to see if you’re doing okay and you’re fine enough to go home in Seoul,” Sunoo confessed and you were stunned. Surprised by his words that the only thing that became noisy was the thunder's grumbling in the sky.

-

You didn’t get to say goodbye.

Not only to Jungwon but to the whole townspeople. They’ll probably wonder where you’ll be. Grandma Hong might go to your house and see it empty, while the children might start to question why you don’t visit the elementary school anymore.

Sunoo insisted that in a few weeks, you could return to Seokdo. There’s no need for goodbyes and yet it still felt bittersweet.

But maybe it’s for the best to not say goodbye to them. You might hesitate to leave. You’re actually hesitating if it wasn’t for Sunoo’s promise of your freedom. That’s the only silver lining in this decision of yours.

You watched as the tiny isle of Seokdo turned into a small thin line as the boat sailed towards Jeju. The wind’s howling but the sky’s calm and muted blue. Everything suddenly felt like a huge change on your part as you remained from where you were standing, heart filled with nervousness as by afternoon, you’re now in Jeju.

By night, you’re back in Seoul. As you step inside the airport, you find yourself a stranger in your hometown. The place wasn’t crowded but everything felt rushed. The seven months were squeezed in a day or hour. It seemed like yesterday you were in Seokdo, helping the townspeople harvest their damaged crops.

The next thing you know, you’re back in Seoul — back to reality.

The first person you noticed by the time you walked into the arrival area was your twin brother. Jake’s eyes widened the moment he saw you. Flashing a huge smile, he ran towards you two with excitement, hair flopping like a dog’s ear before pulling you for a big hug.

“Jake — be careful,” you greeted as you hugged him back.

“Welcome back!” he said with joy before glancing at Sunoo. “Both of you, welcome back.”

“It’s only been a week,” Sunoo commented but the older male chose to ignore it as he broke out of the hug. 

“You okay?” he asked, glancing at you who nodded immediately.

“I just want to rest,” you said as you felt your body getting heavy and weary from the trip. Your brother understood it immediately.

“If that’s the case, we should hurry now and go home,” your husband butted in. 

“Actually, I want to stay in Jake’s place,” you said to Sunoo. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Of course y/n, you can stay with me,” Jake immediately answered, giving your back a gentle rub before glancing at Sunoo. “I should take her luggage now.”

Sunoo didn’t argue anymore, and instead, let Jake take your things as his eyes gazed on you.

“We’ll be going now Sunoo, your driver’s here too, waiting by the benches, have a safe way home,” Jake stated and Sunoo merely nodded.

“Call me y/n, when you’re decided,” Sunoo said to you who only nodded.

“Of course,” you replied before you and your twin brother began to walk away. Leaving your husband there alone, watching you disappear in front of his eyes.

-

Jake kept quiet throughout the whole ride on the way home. But he wasn't subtle at how he's extremely worried about you. You noticed how he would shift his stare at you from time to time. Not having the energy to talk, you chose to ignore it as you passed out on the drive home.

That’s why it shouldn’t surprise you that Jake had cornered you the moment you two entered his place.

“You’re back,” Jake stated. “Suddenly you’re back, what happened in Seokdo?”

You became quiet for a moment, “Sunoo and I are getting a divorce.”

Your twin brother’s eyes widened. “What!?”

You chuckled in disbelief, “pathetic right? But Sunoo said he’ll make sure that our company won’t lose its stocks and image even if we divorce.”

“Y/n, you don’t need it,” your twin brother interjected. “I got everything settled, we’ll be fine even without the Kim's help.” 

That’s when you glanced at him, shaking your head in disagreement. “You got everything settled? Jake, you’re not supposed to take over the company, you should be focusing on your treatments.”

“I’ve been cancer-free for almost a year y/n, look at me, I’m fine!” Jake stated with a smile. “I still have my weekly check-ups but there's a low chance of my cancer returning, so I think it’s best that I’d handle the company starting from now on.”

“I don’t want you to stress too much, it’ll be bad for you,” you pointed out but Jake merely scoffed.

“Yeah, I do admit it was stressful at first but you know what? If I can handle cancer, I can handle stress,” he said with a wink but you weren’t convinced.

“Jake.” you called out.

Your twin brother hushed you merely before pulling you to a hug. “It’s okay, it should’ve been my responsibility from the start because I’m the man of this family. I’m really sorry for being your burden since we were born. It must’ve been hard for you, dealing with everything while I got a pass.”

“Jake, you were sick. We wanted to focus on your treatments and —”

“I told you, I’m healthy now. Mom and dad saw that I could handle everything, and they sort of fired you from the position,” Jake announced, making you stop, glancing at him who had an apologetic expression.

“W-what?”

“Yeah, I took over your position — but don’t worry! You’re still part of the board of directors, just not the ceo soooo…yeah, you’re free now.” your brother stuttered, careful with his words.

You blinked at his explanation. “Free?”

“Live your life, return to Seokdo — divorce Sunoo, we don’t need their alliance after all. I have handled everything and nothing’s going to ruin our parents’ hardwork.” 

You couldn’t believe it. You’re free. Not only would you be free from your marriage, you’d also be free from your responsibilities. You should be angry. After all, all your efforts and years dedicated to running the company suddenly disappeared just because your twin brother is now healthy and capable of taking over it — but all you could feel was a sense of relief.

You’re still young. You still could do a lot of things. It’s not too late for you after all. The divorce was just the first sign, but this one? This one’s different. Your brother, who you always would look after, is now looking after you.

“Thank you Jake,” you breathed giving your brother a hug. “Thank you so much.”

“You deserve it, for all the years of looking after me,” Jake insisted as he hugged you tighter than before.

-

It’s been a week since you went home.

One week without any contact with your husband. Sunoo didn’t make any calls, nor text, or even a visit. It was better that way. You find his presence confusing especially when he’s probably in the middle of fixing your divorce papers.

True to Jake’s words, you no longer hold the highest position in your company. Meeting your parents meant a half-day filled with lectures and worries about them, in which in silence, you endured every word that left their mouth. Your twin brother looked at you apologetically, but you let him be, knowing that half of it was still your fault.

You returned to your office, well, now that you’re in a lower position, you don’t know what to do at all. Jake advised you to just chill and relax, since he really was planning on never letting you work anymore. But you don’t feel any sense of relief from it and would do your best to help him. (In the end, he wins and you just end up reading some books inside your office.)

Mr. Park, the Kim’s family’s lawyer, visited your office a few days later, bearing the news.

“Here are the papers,” Mr. Park said, giving you a thick-pile of papers which you started reading.

“Everything is settled there, since you two signed a pre-nuptial agreement, all discussions and divisions of marital properties and assets could be found on the page three, this includes your company and —”

“I’ll ask questions once I’ve read all of it,” you cut him off with a smile before darting your attention towards the paper. “Thank you for delivering these Mr. Park. I’ll let you know once I’ve signed it.”

The old man stood for a moment before he nodded to your words.

“Please take your time Mrs. Kim,” he said, dictating your surname before he left. It left nothing but chills to your spine before you continued reading it again. Careful and word-by-word so that you wouldn’t miss a single detail.

Not a few minutes later and Jake entered your office without even knocking. 

“Hey, let’s go get some lunch…what’s that?” he asked, eyeing the papers in front of you. “Did they send you some tasks? I told them to not bother you.”

“No, stupid. It’s my divorce papers and agreement,” you said with an eyeroll.

“That’s fast, I guess he’s eager to get rid of you,” your twin teased but you didn’t laugh at his words, still focused on reading the papers.

Jake approached you and stood beside you, reading the paper along with you.

“Wow, he’s not even taking away their shares in our company. You get to keep your penthouse, plus you’ll get yearly support from him? And if ever you have a child — wait a minute, what is this?” Jake’s forehead creased as he pointed to the mentioned paragraph.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“What? What do you mean, “what”? Are you pregnant?” your twin brother asked.

“No, I’m not!” you defended but Jake stared at you, raising an eyebrow.

“So something happened in Seokdo, I assume given that he won’t be writing that in the settlement unless…you know, you and him —”

“Okay, that’s enough Jake, I know, and I assure you, nothing will come out of what happened that night.” you answered.

But your brother stared at you unamused. “So you do admit that something happened.”

You glared at him instead. “Literally shut the fuck up, if you’re here to disturb me, just get out,”

“Sorry, but on a serious note, are you going to sign it?”

“Of course, what else should I do?”

“Nothing,” he said, looking at you and checking your mood. “You seemed pretty sad for a girl who’s going to divorce her cold husband.”

“I’m not sad,” you lied as you grabbed your pen. Your hold on it tightened as you flipped through the pages. “I’m just confused. If good things will come out of this divorce.”

“Hey, on the brighter side, you’re finally free now,” Jake assured, hands patting your shoulder. “Even in your responsibilities in our company, you’re free from it too. So I suggest, do the things you always wanted to do.”

That’s when you placed down the pen and paper. That’s the thing. You could now do the things you wanted to do, but the question was, what do you even wanted to do?

“I don’t even know what to do,” you mumbled.

“What?”

“Jake, the only thing that’s been on my mind was running the company and being a good wife for Sunoo, and in a glimpse — I won’t be doing it anymore. I’m suddenly confused.” you admitted.

“Well, you’ve created another version of you,” Jake answered. “That girl who laughed freely, and got along with everyone in Seokdo. They’re probably waiting for you — Jungwon’s probably waiting for you too.”

A bittersweet smile formed on your lips. “You think so? You’d let me stay there forever?”

“If that makes you happy and free, why not?” your twin brother assured and his answer seemed to put a sense in you.

Looking at the divorce papers, you became quiet for a moment. You think of your husband and the three years you spent with him — are you going to let yourself live like that ‘til you die? Jake’s right, you deserve to be free after all. 

That’s why you grabbed your pen, and with shaky hands but a determined heart, you signed every page of the divorce papers.

-

A week later and you found yourself standing in front of Sunoo’s office. The envelope containing the divorce papers were in your hands, signed from the very moment you received it.

Once your soon-to-be-ex-husband signed it, and had it approved by the court, you’d be free from him. Forever. You felt confused by the situation. Wondering whether good things would come out of the divorce. Even if it means your freedom, you still feel like something is at stake.

Despite all your worries, you tried to think of the brighter side and convinced yourself that you’ll be finally free from your husband. No more quiet penthouse and lonely nights. Maybe, somewhere in the future, you’d find someone better, you’re sure of that.

As you opened the door of his office, Sunoo was by his table. Outfit clean, hair pushed back while wearing his usual cold demeanor.

“You’re here,” he said the moment he laid his eyes on you. His tone indicated that he was surprised.

You only shrugged, “came here to deliver this.”

Sunoo accepted the envelope  without any questions. Opening it and reading every page one-by-one, his heart stopped every time he saw your signature.

“You signed it,” he muttered, eyes still on the paper.

“Like what we’ve talked about,” you said to him. “It’s for the best.”

It wasn’t. Sunoo wanted to disagree. He looked at the papers once again and suddenly — a whip of thoughts hit his mind. It felt sickening. Seeing the divorce papers signed by you and if he complies with it. He’ll watch you walk again.

The idea of losing you again. Sunoo couldn’t fathom that idea. He wondered and thought about what your future would be if he had divorced you. Would you be happy? You’d probably return to Seokdo and reunite with Jungwon —

“What if it wasn’t?” he asked and that made you raise an eyebrow.

“Sunoo, this marriage is useless. We don’t benefit from it anymore, and I don’t want to burden you too,” you stated.

“You’re not a burden.” Sunoo calmly answered before standing up to face you. “You were never a burden to me. Not once, not even when you left me — do you even know what it felt like? Living seven months wondering where you are and are you doing fine? I was going crazy looking for you.”

You were surprised by his sudden confession but despite that, a scoff escaped your lips. “You think I’d believe that? What? It took me to disappear to realize that you care for me?”

“I care for you, you know that,” he rebutted.

“You just don’t show it, I know Sunoo,” you sarcastically replied. “But you think I’d settle for that? I’ve known my worth Sunoo and I just — I’m sorry but I just don’t see you loving anyone, not even me.”

“You’re right, neither do I. I don’t even know how to love,” Sunoo confessed. “But for you, I’d like to try.”

“Sunoo, the papers are signed,” you insisted. “Everything’s too late now.”

Sunoo glanced at paper, gathering it in his hands as he looked at it once again. 

“Actually,” Sunoo looked at you and the next thing you knew, the papers were ripped in front of you.

He threw it carelessly, scattering on the floor while your face drew confusion.

“Sunoo —”

“It’s not too late,” he said sharply. “I changed my mind. I don’t want a divorce.”

You breathed, “Are you fucking insane?”

“When it comes to you, yes,” he stated, taking a step forward towards you. “Because now, all I could think of was that I don’t want to see you with somebody else. That’ll fucking kill me.”

Your forehead creased. “What are you trying to say?”

“I love you.” he blurted out, completely catching you off-guard. “I love you so much that I am willing to let you go because I don’t deserve you. We’ll just ruin each other y/n. We’re just not compatible.”

You stared at him whose eyes darkened before a laugh escaped his lips. “But you know what? I am ruined enough that I don’t care anymore. I’d love to enjoy the rest of our lives fixing and ruining each other because you’re the only person I want to do that with.”

“And I know somewhere in our future, we’d be fine. We’ll be living and loving peacefully like in your days in Seokdo and I want to be in that future with you. It might be a mess right now in the present, but for the future that awaits us. Can you hold on for more?” he asked, almost begging as his hands trailed on the edge of your waist. 

Instead of an answer, Sunoo was welcomed by a sharp sting on his right cheek. He felt it turning numb as the sound echoed inside his office. He was frozen — and so were you, palm hurt and eyes watery as it sinked into you every word Sunoo had said to you.

“You’re so stupid,” you whispered to him, breath shaky and words stuttering. “Impulsive, repulsive, hot-headed, cold and — and yet, in the worst way possible, I fell in love with every, every inch of your existence that it hurts.”

You hated to admit that somewhere, in your lonely marriage, your heart yearned for your husband. That there were moments that you wondered if he could look at you the same way you looked at him. 

Perhaps that’s also the other reason why you don’t want a divorce. You don’t want him to leave you. It sounded pathetic on your part, but people can learn to love someone at some point in their lives. You were patient, waiting for Sunoo to do his part, and anytime, you’d welcome him with all your heart.

“We clash, banter, and are too stubborn to lower their pride for the other, and I wanted to ask you, why now? Why!? Why are you years late Sunoo!?” you shouted in frustration. Tears streaming down on your face as the guilt and anger seethe on your system. You hated how you two had to go through everything just for him to reciprocate everything.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, flashed with guilt as he stared at you. “I just didn’t think you’d go that far.”

“You pushed me to,” you spat back.

“That’s why I am not going to push you anymore,” he said, before grabbing you by your arms. The next thing you knew, you were trapped against the wall as your husband closed the proximity between you two that you could hear the rapid beating of his heart.

His deep brown eyes searched for yours. The time felt like it stopped as his grip on your waist tightened. The tension suffocated both of you and yet, no one moved.

“You’re the only one that I don’t have,” Sunoo whispered, breaking the silence. “It’s crazy to think that the only thing that’s holding me back is me.” 

His face became close. Too close for you liking that your heart became more rapid, hyperventilating as your grip against the flat surface of the wall tightened. 

“So tell me,” he proposed once again. “Tell me you want this too, even if it’s wrong, even if it’ll hurt us because the only thing that I wanted to do here is take you and show you — how much I’ve been controlling myself from making you mine.” 

You looked him in the eye for a second. He was waiting for you. Patient and careful which is the total opposite of the Kim Sunoo that you always know. He has always been impatient. Time shouldn’t be wasted on silly ponderings and conflicts. Sunoo has always decided on everything, with his mind and heart.

Which meant that he meant every word he told you. 

“You don’t have to do it Sunoo,” you answered — more like a whisper because you still feel scared — afraid that everything might turn into a passing feeling for him. 

“Do you want me to kneel in front of you and beg for your love? Because if that’s what it takes, I’d do it in a heartbeat,” he professed and you shook your head as your hands cupped his cheeks to make him look at you.

“You don’t have to do it because, I’m yours already Sunoo,” you repeated. “I’m your wife, and you're my husband — and it will remain that way ‘til forever.”

With your words, Sunoo didn’t waste any more time. The next thing you knew, he tugged you upwards, arms supporting your thighs as he pushed you harder against the wall. His lips crashed onto yours unexpectedly. Soft, plump, tasting like cherry and that made you whimper against it. 

You tugged his hair, brushing it softly as you fell under his spell. Kissing him back, tasting the sweet indulgence of him giving into you. It felt feverish feeling Sunoo’s lips against yours. It couldn’t sinked into you, not even when Sunoo left your lips and trailed kisses on your jaw downwards your neck, making you throw your head back with a moan. 

There was nothing you could do as Sunoo drowned himself in your body. His lips were busy, biting and sucking every skin he could feel. His hold on you tightened because even though he wanted to take you right there, he wanted to lavish every part of you.

He stepped away from you. Eyes filled with lust as he kissed you hungrily once again, a whine escaped your lips before kissing him back. Your arms snaked around his shoulder, pulling him closer to feel more of his warmth.

“Sunoo,” you moaned, before he stole your lips once again. He didn’t let you speak, he let both bodies do everything to show that this is what you two have been waiting for. 

Before you could’ve said anything, he carried you towards his desk table. Ignoring all the important documents that crumpled under your weight. You two didn’t care about it especially when Sunoo removed his coat and loosened his tie while you started to unbutton your blouse. He cupped your cheeks once again, staring at you with his cold, lustful eyes that made you inaudibly nervous. 

“Mine,” he declared. The word slipped out so easy — so natural that he wondered why it took him long to do so. Why did he hold himself back from loving you for so long when you have always looked at him with the softest gaze one could gaze upon his cold demeanor. 

“Always yours Sunoo,” you replied to him and instead of answering you back, he kissed you once again. More gentle, more careful enough to taste your warm touch against his. He couldn’t hold it anymore when his hands reached for your bra’s clasp and in a split second, your breasts were free and taken by Sunoo’s huge hands, fondling the soft flesh of it, making you whine against his mouth.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered to you before stealing a kiss once again. “So fucking perfect for me — my sweet girl. Always good and nice for me right?”

You whimpered as an answer. You found yourself drinking all of his taste. Dangerous and yet, you have always been a magnet for chaos and trouble — it just turns out that your husband’s the most poisonous one out there.

His hands landed on your skirt, hoisting it up enough for him to caress your thighs, earning a soft moan from you. His smirk was evident as the two of you continued your heavy makeout.

“Mr. Kim, Mr. Lee is looki —” the two of you flinched when the door swung open revealing his secretary who was surprised by the scene.

Silence came through. No one moved. His secretary looked like a shocked hamster with her eyes so wide that it’ll pop out of the socket.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked before closing the door with a loud thud. The two of you remained frozen from your position, trying to process everything before Sunoo let out a laugh, catching you off-guard.

It wasn’t just any laugh. It was boisterous and loud, echoing around his office that you were left confused and shocked because this was the first time you’ve ever heard Sunoo laugh this hard.

His laughter continued for a minute until a deep sigh escaped his lips. He rested his forehead on your shoulder while it just sinked into you what just happened.

“Poor Wonhee,” he commented before glancing at you, expression soft and light. “Well, it’s her fault for not knocking on the door.”

You couldn’t say anything. You only looked at your husband who gave you a smile as he kissed you once again.

“I never heard you laugh that loud,” it was the first you said.

“You’ll hear that laugh for the rest of our lives so don’t worry about hearing it the first time,” he assured and his statement immediately hit you.

“I’ll look forward to it then,” you smiled before you pulled him once again for a kiss which he reciprocated dearly. 

“How about we go home now? Continue what has been interrupted and I don’t know, make up for the years we lost?” Sunoo suggested the moment you two broke from the kiss. You stared at him, hands brushing his messy hair as your heart beat in that steady motion — gentle and in relief.

“Of course, let’s go home, my dear husband.” you said with a smile.