My name is Morgana, I'm 24 years old, and i write fanfiction about my favourite kpop group, ENHYPEN! My biases are Ni-ki and Sunghoon (I can't choose), and my favourite song of theirs is Orange Flower.
Maybe a few of you have heard about me. I used to have an account here... I deleted it around February. It was called morganaawriterr. Life was hard, and stuff happened; that's why i left, but i miss writing.
I write about heavy feelings and hurt in a comforting way. I also love some fantasy and romance. Expect to be heartbroken :)
The first post will be up soon, so please, stay tuned!
— PAIRING jake sim x fem reader — WORD COUNT 1.1K — GENRE exes to lovers, fluff, crack, minor angst — WARNINGS profanity, jake is heavily unserious, jake is tall-er??? idk
— AUTHOR’S NOTE im so santos bravos pilled it’s insane. another dual inspired fic because i’m #bored ok
HE’S NOT SURE IF YOU’RE AWARE OF THIS, BUT JAKE WASN’T BORN YESTERDAY. It’s almost funny, the way you'd bore your eyes into the back of his head all day, yet sprint out of his line of vision the second classes end.
It’s only been about three months since the two of you broke up, and Jake swears to this day that it is the dumbest breakup he’s ever had to endure.
“I’m not enough for you,” is what you told him, your hair soaked by the rain that just had to pour down on the two of you that night. Not enough? What kind of bullshit was that?
Jake laughed when you told him, genuinely cackled when you dared to put yourself down in front of him. You were more than enough, you were everything. He thought it was a cruel prank you were pulling on him, until he noticed that you were, in fact, completely serious about the breakup.
You weren’t the most social girl out there, Jake knew that. The two of you were forced together after Jake had taken a seat beside you on the first day of classes. Unfortunately for you, Jake did not budge at all, persistent on getting to know you despite your blatant rejections.
It didn’t take long before Jake squeezed his way into your heart, his contagious energy leaving you endeared and– eventually– in love. But love was never easy with you.
You were used to being on your own, you preferred being alone, which was the entire reason why you kept blowing Jake off in the first place. The price of solitude was the sacrifice of all social skills, meaning that even though you had a boyfriend that you really did love, you rarely ever showed it. Jake never seemed to care, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t bother you.
You told him in the rain that you felt like you hadn’t been giving him what he deserved. That he was a great guy who deserved a girlfriend just as bright as he was, and that you couldn’t be that for him. You weren’t talkative, you weren’t physical, you hated going out with a raging passion, and Jake was the exact opposite. It would just never work.
Jake chuckled to himself as he ran the night through his head another time. “She’s so funny,” he whispered under his breath, throwing his bag over his shoulder before leaving his class. Not far ahead, you were very obviously speed-walking away from Jake, your head hung low as you sped off campus. His brows furrowed for a moment, worried that you’d find a way to hit your head on something walking so carelessly.
He’d been giving you your space– you were really shaken up the day that you broke up with him. He knew you, and he figured that you’d need at least a few months to calm down from the whole thing. Despite how you looked on the outside, whenever your brain was stuck on something, it took a while to let it go. Jake learned that the hard way when you went down a year-long Broadway rabbit hole after watching the Wicked movie.
He also knew that you were a chronic self-deprecator who immediately turned down anything that sounded remotely like praise. You didn’t have to be, Jake told you so, but you weren’t having it, and broke up with Jake instead of hearing him out. He tried not to let it get to him, because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he was going to win you back no matter what. He wouldn’t let you walk around beating yourself up any more, he couldn’t stand it.
Suddenly, a wave of motivation rushed through him, carrying his feet over to where you were waiting for the bus. Your feet tapped restlessly against the concrete– a classic you move– and you flinched violently the second Jake’s voice sounded from next to you.
“You know I could just drive you, right?” He smirked, eyes looking expectantly at you for the standoffish reaction you normally gave him, and you didn’t disappoint. You took a step to the side, eyes fixed on the ground as you shifted. You mumbled, “I’m not interested, Jake.”
Jake frowned, his eyes going doe-y at the lack of nicknames. An overly dramatic sigh left his lips, “What happened to Jaeyun? Always so cruel.” He walked over to you, crouching down so that you’d finally meet his gaze. “Hi.”
“What do you want?” Your tone was lazy and agitated and music to Jake’s ears.
“I want you to get back together with me.” He smiled, and you froze. His smile was the one weakness that you had, the one thing that almost always worked to calm you down. If he got lucky, maybe you’d shoot him a small, awkward smile of your own.
He saw the hesitation in your face, and took the opportunity to rise from his crouched position, tilting your chin up with his hand as he stood so that your eyes would stay on his. He wasn’t much taller than you, but he had enough height to make you crane your neck just the smallest bit to see him.
His face softened, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. “Look, I know you feel like you’re not enough for me, which is insane to me because hello? You? But I want you to know that I love you for you. The mean, grumpy, and stubborn you who made it her life’s mission to turn me down for six months straight before we got together. The you who’s been avoiding me like the plague ever since we broke up. The you who never laughs at my jokes, who has the cutest little frown that you swear is a smile, the you who’s standing in front of me right now. That’s who I love, I’ve never wanted anything more than that.”
A stray tear rolled down your face as he spoke, and Jake caught it quickly with his thumb, your face now held between both of his hands. “You are perfect, Y/N. You don’t have to change for me, or for anyone, because you are perfect, and don’t feed me any self-deprecation B.S. right now because I will cry in front of you if you do.” You snickered at his vulgar word choice, sniffling at the same time as Jake mirrored your grin.
“Y/N, I really want this,” Jake went to hold your hands, you wincing at the loss of his warmth from your face. “I want to be your boyfriend, and I want you to be my girlfriend, only if you want to, and I know you want to, by the way.”
He never changes. You chuckled again, shaking your head. “Cocky much, Jaeyun?” Jake’s smile grew, the sound of his birth name rolling off your tongue making his heart pound against his chest. At long last, you were his again.
“Oh, the cockiest,” he threw an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your ear to whisper, “I mean– have you seen my girlfriend?”
Sunghoon doesn’t answer, his knuckles turning white as he tightens the grip on his leather reins, ignoring the sharp bite of his mother’s voice that’s currently echoeing through the silence of the private drawing room.
“A commoner,” Queen Chaewon repeats, the word rolling off her tongue like something rotten, a distasteful aftertaste she can’t quite swallow down. She paces the length of the marble floor. “Months, Sunghoon. Months under our very noses. The laundry girl?”
“She isn't just a laundry girl,” Sunghoon says, his voice gravelly. His heart does a pathetic little flip in his chest just thinking of you—the way your fingers always smell of lavender soap, the way you’d steal quiet moments behind the east wing glasshouses just to press your forehead against his collarbone and breathe him in.
“Silence,” King Jaehyun barks from the mahogany desk, his posture rigid, eyes sharp hearing the audacity of his son. “You stand there looking like a disgraced boy when you are meant to inherit a kingdom. You’ve dragged the crown through the mud for a fleeting piece of distraction.”
Sunghoon’s eyes flicker toward the corner of the room where two royal guards stand, their hands resting ominously on the pommels of their swords. He knows how this story goes. He isn't stupid. He’d read the histories, knew the lengths the crown went to preserve its bloodline, yet he’d still allowed himself the foolish luxury of falling.
He had convinced himself they could hide forever. That the dim lantern light in the abandoned armory was enough. That your soft, breathless giggles against his neck were louder than the whispers of the palace court.
God, he was so fucking naive.
“You have two choices, my son,” King Jaehyun says, leaning forward, resting his ring-adorned hands on the wood. The air in the room instantly grows suffocating settling into Sunghoon’s lungs. “And I suggest you think very carefully about the weight of your blood.”
Sunghoon swallows hard, his dry throat burning. “Name them.”
“First,” his father starts, voice completely void of warmth, “you renounce your title. You strip off the crest, step down from the throne, and leave these gates as a nobody. We strip you of everything. And the moment you step outside those gates together, the guards will hunt you both down and cut your throats in the ditch where you belong.”
Sunghoon’s blood turns to absolute ice. His breath hitches, a cold sweat breaking out at the back of his neck. “That’s not a choice.”
“Then listen to the second,” Queen Chaewon steps in, her tone almost sickeningly gentle. “You keep your crown. You take the throne, you marry the Lady of House Kang as arranged, and you fulfill your duty to this kingdom.”
“And her?” Sunghoon asks, his voice cracking, the composure he’d spent twenty years building fracturing into dust. “What happens to her?”
King Jaehyun draws a silver sword from its sheath on the desk. He walks over and places the heavy hilt directly into Sunghoon’s trembling hands.
“You kill her yourself.”
The room goes dead silent.
Sunghoon stares down at the silver blade, his reflection warped in the polished steel. His head spins. Kill you? The girl who used to mend his torn shirts in secret? The girl who had held his face in her small hands just last night, whispering that she didn't care about the consequences, that she only cared about him?
“If you choose the kingdom,” his father presses, step by step closing in, “you prove your loyalty by eliminating the weakness yourself. Right here. In front of us. To ensure no soft heart remains to ruin this dynasty.”
“No,” Sunghoon whispers, shaking his head, a sickening tremor running down his spine. “No, please—just banish her. Send her away, send her to the southern coast, she’ll never come back, I swear it—”
“Choose, Sunghoon,” the King snaps, his patience snapping. “Either the guards drag her in here and end you both, or you take the sword, do what a King must do, and save your own skin.”
Save your own skin.
The realization hits Sunghoon. He thinks of the execution block. He thinks of your frail body being dragged into the dirt, slaughtered like livestock while he dies beside you, leaving nothing behind but an erased legacy and two shallow graves. He thinks of the raw terror in your eyes if he let the guards butcher you both.
He closes his eyes, his breathing coming in shallow gasps.
He is a coward. Deep down, underneath the royal velvet and the sharp jawline, he is a terrifyingly selfish coward. He wants to live. He wants the power. He cannot—will not—die in a muddy ditch for a love that was doomed from the start.
“Bring her in,” Sunghoon chokes out.
The words leave his mouth like poison, burning his throat on the way out. Queen Chaewon offers an approving nod. The heavy oak doors creak open.
When you are shoved into the room by two guard captains, your knees hit the hard stone floor. Your hair is disheveled, your apron torn at the strap, but the second your eyes land on Sunghoon, the panic in your expression melts into heartbreaking relief.
“Sunghoon,” you breathe out, your voice trembling, reaching a hand out toward him. “Sunghoon, what’s happening? They—they grabbed me from the lower quarters—”
Sunghoon can’t look you in the eye. He physically can’t. His stomach churns, bile rising to his throat as he raises the silver sword, the weight of it suddenly feeling too much.
You freeze. Your eyes track the movement of the blade, then move up to his pale face.
“Sunghoon?” you whisper, the realization dawning on you so slowly, so painfully, that it shatters what little is left of his soul. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry,” he rasps, his voice barely audible over the roaring in his ears.
“No—no, Sunghoon, look at me,” you sob, scrambling backward on your hands, but the guards step in, roughly grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to your knees, holding you pinned in place. “Sunghoon, please! It’s me! It’s Y/N!”
Tears blur Sunghoon’s vision, but he forces his grip on the hilt to remain steady. His parents stand behind him like silent vipers, watching, testing, measuring his worth by the blood he’s about to spill.
He steps forward. One step. Two.
“I loved you,” he whispers. “I really did.”
“Then don't do this!” you scream, desperate, hot tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, soaking into the collar of your dress. “Please, Sunghoon, don't leave me like this—don't—”
He doesn't let you finish.
With a sharp, agonizing intake of breath, Sunghoon closes his heart, leaning into the instinct of a prince trained to conquer, and drives the steel straight through your chest.
The sound of metal tearing through fabric and flesh echoes in the high-ceilinged room.
Your breath hitches in a wet gasp. Your eyes go wide, locked onto his, hands instinctively flying up to clutch at the blade embedded in your chest. Blood—warm, and crimson—gushes out, staining his white silk shirt, splattering across his knuckles, his face, his lips.
Sunghoon’s knees almost give out, but he holds the sword firm, watching the light slowly drain from your eyes. You lean into the blade, getting as close to him as possible, coughing up a drop of crimson that lands directly on his cheek.
“You... coward,” you choke out, a final whisper before your hands slip off the steel, dragging down his arms, leaving bloody smears in their wake.
Your head drops forward. Your body goes completely limp against the guards' grip.
Silence settles over the drawing room. Sunghoon pulls the sword back with a brutal slide, and your body slumps sideways onto the cold marble floor, pooling in red. His hands are shaking so violently he nearly drops the weapon. He stands there, drenched in your blood, smelling the iron, smelling the faint faint hint of lavender soap lingering underneath it all.
King Jaehyun steps up beside him, placing an approving hand on Sunghoon’s blood-soaked shoulder.
“Well done, my son,” the King says quietly, no remorse in his tone. “You are truly fit to rule.”
Sunghoon doesn't speak. He can’t. He just stares down at your lifeless form, at the small hand resting palm-up on the stone floor, forever waiting for him to hold it again.
He got his kingdom. He got his throne.
And all it cost was the only piece of humanity he had left.
isa notes: you didn't see this. i was just checking if i was shadowbanned or something 😔🤚also who am i if im not writing angst for sunghoon??
best friend!jungwon x best friend!reader ⸝⸝ female reader ⸝⸝ boxing au ⸝⸝ university au ⸝⸝ 26.7k words ⸝⸝ mystery ⸝⸝ angst ⸝⸝ hurt/comfort ⸝⸝ smart!reader ⸝⸝ yearner!jungwon ⸝⸝ detailed fighting ⸝⸝ illegal fighting ⸝⸝ do not try this at home ⸝⸝ mentions of harmful substances to consume (not drugs) ⸝⸝ kisses
ⓘ :: i did not think that this would take a month to write but here we are. i really hope you all enjoy. this fic has elements of hard-boiled detective fiction and romance. please ignore any mistakes that i wasn't able to catch. i love reading comments and feedback so please feel free!
The light chatter in the White Fang Cafe competed with the lowered sound of Instagram Reels emitting from the phone across from you. He sits with his laptop closed, his phone in his right hand, and his iced americano held up to his lips with his left.
“Are you going to get any work done at all?”
He turned his cat-like gaze up to your own, his dark brown eyes contrasting his recently dyed blond hair.
“Don’t need to,” He shrugged, “And before you say it: no, I can’t get ahead because I already am.”
“How are you already ahead?” You exclaimed more than asked.
“I don’t know, it’s just easy.”
You sighed and playfully rolled your eyes, mumbling “business majors” in an exasperated voice.
Jungwon let out a light chuckle and looked back down at his phone — jumping like a scared cat when he caught a glimpse of the time. You watched confusedly as he shoved his laptop into his bag and his phone in his back pocket.
“I gotta go,” He informed in a rush, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safe!”
“Wait, Jungwon!” He turned around at your words, “Where in the world are you going that’s so important on a Friday night?” You raised a brow and kept a suggestive lilt in your voice
He laughed awkwardly — you could tell by the breathiness and the slight reddening of his ears.
“Uh, I’m going to the gym with the guys,” He slung his backpack onto his shoulder, “You know, gotta get them gains or whatever.”
“Right…”
“Night, Y/N.” He flashed you a smile and ran out the cafe’s side door. Out the window you could just barely see him reach his dingy old car and drive onto the road.
You rolled your eyes. Jungwon was a horrible liar. There’s no way he was going to the gym and judging by the flush on his ears: he was probably going on a date or to a party and was too embarrassed to tell you.
Then again, this wasn’t abnormal for Jungwon. He was extremely self disciplined and has been the biggest gym rat since you’d met him in freshman year. And if the way his biceps strained against the sleeves of his shirts was any indication: his diligence was paying off. But you can’t recall Jungwon going to the gym at 8 on a Friday night….
Your brows furrowed in thought. Yes, you have.
Well, not exactly but last Friday you asked if he was going to his dorm hall’s floor event — you’d been invited by some other dude on his floor but said you’d only go if he did — Jungwon had texted back that he was busy on Friday. And three weeks ago there was the release of the Michael Jackson movie in which you’d gotten tickets for the two of you on opening night. You ended up taking your roommate Yuna instead.
You pressed your lips together as you considered the information. Either Jungwon has a girlfriend he never told you about, has become a Friday night party animal, or just really loves gymming with the guys on Friday nights. The easiest way, you supposed, to find out was to show up at the gym and see if you could spot all 175 centimeters of lean muscle.
After opening Maps to put in the address, you realized you have no idea what gym he goes to. You could’ve sworn you’d asked him before. For the life of you, you couldn’t remember his answer. You narrowed your eyes on the iMessage contact. Jungwon had a knack for sending you a selfie almost every time he found himself in front of his gym mirror — sometimes the mirror wasn’t even necessary. Just a selfie of him next to some equipment you wouldn’t even be able to name if you were held at gunpoint.
You’d never looked anywhere else but him and his toned body whenever he sent you pictures but now with fresh eyes you checked the backgrounds for any hint of a logo or calling card. You flicked between two pictures — ones where he was sitting at the same machine — backwards letters stood proudly on the back wall above his right shoulder. An E and the half of a B.
wonie: Fight broke out in the gym lol
Your teeth plunged into your lips as you bit back a smile at the message Jungwon had sent with a nonchalant selfie two months ago.
You: why’d you say that so nonchalantly
wonie: Eh it’s not that big of a deal
wonie: Wyd?
You: finishing up my reading for my next journalism lec ugh
You: free me from this prison
wonie: LOL
An uncontrollable smile had drawn onto your lips and for a few solid moments you lived in blissful reminiscence. Until you remembered that you were stalking Jungwon for a reason.
You flipped through more gym selfies, forcing your eyes to not look at the person in the foreground. Of all the selfies he sent, there was only one more that showed a sliver of the gym’s name: E, B, and Y — that should be enough to search with.
Your fingers across your keyboard wrote “YBE gym” in the Google search bar and watched the list of gyms load onto the screen. The first option caught your eye.
HYBE Gym 5★ 12 mins Write a review
Clicking the link to the directions, you packed up your bag, thanked the barista, and got in your car; silently praying that Jungwon wouldn’t think you were a freak for analyzing his photos just to find him at the gym. But then again, was he even going to be there?
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
You pulled into the decently large parking lot of the Hybe gym. The exterior was boxy and large windows adorned the grey walls. Those same windows made it incredibly clear that the gym was emptied out of all its patrons. It would’ve been easy to shift into reverse and tease Jungwon for lying to you about his whereabouts but something about the way that the fluorescent lights remained on had you killing the engine instead.
Your eyes moved to the reception desk as you walked in — surely, there would be someone waiting there to scan your card or check your gym membership — no one sat in the black spinning chair. An uncanny feeling fell over you as you walked deeper into the gym, viewing the various large machines, the racks of weights, and the letters that you’d seen in his pictures just a few minutes before. You faced the mirror out of curiosity for what he sees when he sends you his selfies, your last look before exiting the strangely abandoned gym, until a familiar dark blue water bottle caught your eye.
If it were a Hydroflask or an Owala, you’d disregard it entirely, but this wasn’t a normal trendy water bottle — it was the dingy, plastic one every freshman received as a welcome package into the baccalaureate program. And unless there was another Decelis University student in the graduating class of 2027 that happened to go to an insanely modernized gym, Jungwon was telling the truth. He was here. Somewhere.
Fumbling in your purse for your phone, you called Jungwon’s number, hoping that he was just in the doorway marked “Men’s Locker Room”. And when you heard the faint ringing on the other side of the door, you were certain that he was there. Only ignoring your call. Brows pinched together in confusion, why would he not pick up your call?
The persistent feeling of uncanniness crawling up your spine and the prodding of school deadline anxiety in the back of your skull had you losing patience quickly. You ended the call and knocked on the locker room door.
“Jungwon?” You called out, “Are you in there?”
You gave him a generous three seconds to respond.
“Jungwon? Hello?”
After another short moment you pushed the door ajar and asked, “Is anyone even in here?”
You were met with nothing but silence. You closed your eyes and exhaled exasperatedly. Peeking around in the gym and finding it as vacant as you found it, you called out:
“Jungwon, if you don’t come out, I’m going in.”
At first, it was an empty threat — why would you willingly walk into the men’s locker room — but the lack of response fueled the strange feeling swarming the place. And maybe, a part of you wanted to prove that Jungwon wouldn’t lie to you. You didn’t care if he had a secret girlfriend or had an unquenchable love for frat parties but you wanted to know if and why he would keep it from you.
So, you took slow small steps into the locker room, making sure to put more force into them than necessary — just to make sure he would stop you before you committed fully and turned to see half a dozen nigh naked men. But as you rounded the small corridor, it was blatantly clear you had been talking to yourself for the past five minutes.
The locker room was shrouded in darkness, grey lockers lined the walls, and one long bench ran in the middle til it met the section of showers. You turned on the flashlight on your phone and looked closer. The lockers were labeled with numbers but some had small plaques with initials on them. Locker 5 caught your eye: partly because it was slightly ajar, partly because it had the initials “YJW” on a small metal plaque.
Flipping the locker door open, you saw Jungwon’s worn-in blue backpack shoved into the small space — obviously in a rush, since he didn’t see the strap of the bag sticking out of his locker and preventing it from being shut. His phone also sat in the locker, at an awkward angle as well, contributing to the theory that he rushed to put his stuff down. But if the rest of his stuff is here, why is his water bottle in the main part of the gym?
And where was Jungwon?
Your eyes glanced at the only part of the gym you hadn’t gone to yet — besides the girl’s locker room but you had more faith in Jungwon than that, which is ironic considering the room you were in currently — the showers. Although, you considered, no one seemed to be in here anyway. With the small encouragement, you walked over to the shower section: seven uniform showers lined the walls, all but one with the curtains left open.
Upon seeing the drawn shower curtain, you should have left. You shouldn’t have gotten closer. But you did. And with the way that the curtain sat, with one side over-drawn, leaving a sliver of space slightly open to view — you could imagine the events that occurred to have left the scene like that. Someone rushed into the shower, but if the lack of running water and indication that someone — anyone at all — was in this locker room, no one was in the shower anymore. So, with small steps, shaky hands, and held breath, you peeked past the shower curtain to find that your suspicions were right. No one was there. But something strange was.
The tile on the side with the shower head and knobs was tilted and coming off the wall in one piece. You would’ve supposed that that was why the shower curtain was closed. The shower was broken, it was under construction, it needed to be fixed, so they closed it off. But you couldn’t accept that to be true when just beyond the tilted back wall, muffled yelling emitted through the crack.
Stepping into the shower and taking a closer look at the wall, you realized that the titled tiles were not broken or falling apart, they were attached to a door disguised as the back of a shower. Someone forgot to ensure the secret door remained secret. As you stood with the door swung open, looking into a corridor with a staircase that ran down into a lower level, you contemplated counting your blessings, driving back to your apartment, and worrying about your homework in the morning.
But this is what you lived for, right? The drama, the thrill, the investigation. Now the opportunity to explore was right in front of your face — who were you to deny yourself of that adventure? And Jungwon was probably down there. It’s probably just some rich frat house’s party venue because they don’t want to piss their parents off.
You shook your head in disbelief, no way Yang “I get my work done two weeks in advance” Jungwon was a party animal.
You shut the door behind you and trod down the stairs in a liminal space between caution and confidence.
The staircase turned right and climbed down a few more steps before the room came into view. It was shaped like a stadium — bleachers around the walls with every seat filled with cheering fans. The lights were dimmed all around except for the center where everyone’s eyes were glued. And for good reason. The center showcased an elevated boxing ring that was adorned with visible wear and tear. An announcer’s voice boomed the play by play happening in the ring, taking care to note the names of the fighters as they threw their punches.
It was useless. You’d recognize those broad shoulders anywhere.
You’d also recognize that mess of floppy blond-dyed hair, that enviously tiny waist, dark cat-like eyes, and toned biceps anywhere — which is why it was a little strange that it took you a good seven seconds to compute the scene unfolding before you.
Yang Jungwon, shifting and keeping light on his feet in the middle of that elevated boxing ring. Yang Jungwon, with bloodied bandages wrapped around his fists, throwing a clean jab into the jaw of his opponent. Yang Jungwon, continuing to advance and throw punches that didn’t quite make an impact before putting all his force in one that did.
“And Jakah lands his attack knocking his opponent to the floor! Yikes! That puts BigHit in a real tight spot!”
Your head filled with a million questions: who is Jakah? What is BigHit? What is happening?
The two fighters went back to their corners, their coaches handing them water bottles and wiping the sweat off their brows. From this angle, you could see Jungwon more clearly. His flushed skin, his big muscles, and the inception of a bruise on the left side of his jaw.
“Jakah continues to show his ferocity and tenacity in the ring.” The announcer informed.
“Maybe he’s trying to compensate for his performance last week?” Another announcer theorized.
“I don’t know but what I can say is that he is relentless tonight. It seems like we might be getting our beloved champion back, what do you say folks?”
The crowd erupted in roars. It was hard to make out at first, everyone yelling out of unison but half the crowd boo’d like their life depended on it and the rest cheered with every ounce of breath in their lungs. You watched Jungwon shake his head and push his water bottle away, shaking his right wrist, and waiting patiently before he could lunge at the other guy again.
This was a side of Jungwon you’d never seen before; he was so sweet, and gentle, and caring, it was hard to think of him as someone who spent his Friday nights beating the daylight out of other people. You recalled what the announcers had said just a few moments before. If Jungwon is this “Jakah” guy then what happened last week? And what did they mean by “champion”?
Jungwon turned to scan his eyes over the stands and an awareness fell on you like an avalanche. You were the only person standing in this entire underground stadium. Crouching immediately, you hoped that he hadn’t caught sight of you yet. What would happen if he did? Would he get nervous and be thrown off? That would likely cost him his victory and part of his physical condition. Your heart started aching at the mere sight of a bruise under his jaw, you couldn’t stomach watching him get pummeled. You also hadn’t decided what to say to him or how to say it. You couldn’t even grasp your emotions under the dazedness of shock — it’d be better to talk to him later when you could think clearly.
A loud buzzer blared and the fighters took to the center of the ring. Their hands fisted up to their face — their guards up — and their feet inching increasingly closer to one another. Jungwon’s opponent started with a barrage of light jabs, causing Jungwon to pull his guard higher up. It took about five seconds to realize why this useless move was continuing on: he was pursuing Jungwon toward the edges of the ring. But Jungwon quickly found his footing and dropped into a crouch before sending a hard punch to his assailant's ribs. The crowd erupted in a collective grimace but Jungwon didn’t stop, instead he cracked his fist against the guys jaw with so much force that the sound traveled toward the stands.
His opponent fell limp on the floor, blood dripping from his face, and a referee running up to check his condition. The stadium didn’t wait in bated breath, no it roared in controversy — even as the referee stood up and held Jungwon’s hand high in victory.
It was hard to catch the crowds sentiment when they all had something to say:
“There goes my 75K won!” Someone grumbled.
“75? I put down a clean 150!”
“And that 225K is all mine now boys.” A person from the row behind them gloated.
“Yeah right, I bet 60% of the stadium also put their money down on Goldilocks.”
“60%? Not after last week.”
Your brows furrowed in deeply, what do they mean “put their money down”? Is Jungwon the prospect of illegal gambling?
Your head swam in a million different directions before you realized that the stands were being vacated deeper into the basement. Suddenly, the shock seemed to dissipate and the temperature in the room felt utterly too warm. You stood back up, legs as strong as under-chilled jello, and saw the stands slowly become deserted. Your eyes glanced toward the center-ring where Jungwon had been only moments before but had vacated as well. It was time you left too.
Before someone found you here.
You ran up the steps and out of the shower, through the thankfully still empty locker room, out of the overly modern gym. You passed through rows of equipment, spotting Jungwon’s abandoned water bottle and picking it up off the ground. You didn’t even know why you picked it up, you just did it on instinct and rushed out to your car.
And all you could think about on the drive to your apartment was: is Jungwon okay?
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The screen of your phone on the darkest setting was still too bright as it shone in your face. The cursor blinked in its home on the message bar. A bar devoid of text.
You didn’t know what to tell him. What to say. What to ask. It was all amiss to you. You’d known Jungwon since freshman year and never in those three years did you think of him as a guy that would knock a guy out so hard that blood pooled out of his mouth. So, what on Earth were you supposed to text him?
“Hi I followed you to the gym and saw you turn some guy into a pulp! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Hi do you know that fighting people, especially in an underground fighting ring where people bid on your success/failure, is super dangerous in multiple ways??”
You sighed and threw your phone to the other side of the bed. He’d probably text you tomorrow, you’d figure out what to say. Hopefully.
Because if Jungwon was involved in illegal gambling and fighting — he was putting himself in so much risk. You couldn’t freak out, couldn’t go around accusing him. You needed to stay level headed.
Jungwon didn’t text you the next day but he did text you the day after. Sometime around noon your phone pinged and Jungwon’s name lit up on your screen.
wonie: Hey wyd rn?
You hesitated at first. You tried to convince yourself that you just needed more time to think about what to say to him but you knew that you were just dreading a conversation that was inevitable.
You: not much, u?
wonie: Bored
wonie: And my roommate brought his friends over and they’re loud asf
You: LOL
You: just come over! we can watch a movie or smth
wonie: Want me to pick up snacks?
You: nah i have some from last time!!
He wasn’t what you expected when you opened the door. Maybe it was because the Jungwon you’d seen that night was stuck in your head: the way his sweaty muscles reflected the light, the way his chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, the way the ends of his hair were slightly wet, the blooming bruise under his clenched jaw — it wouldn’t leave your mind.
But now he stood in front of you in his classic GAP grey hoodie, wispy bangs falling into his eyes, bright smile on his lips, and a jaw devoid of any discoloration.
“Hey,” His eyes lit up as soon as he saw you and he wasted no time at the door. Just strutted in like he was your roommate, taking his shoes off and walking to the kitchen, “Do you still have that apple flavored green tea?”
You raised your brow at him, “Bro, do you know how hard it was to find those again? I had to go to a Chinese grocery store just to find them.”
Jungwon held up the last bottle, the red and gold label almost completely hidden in his large hand. He shook it slightly as he spoke:
“Wanna split it with me?”
You looked at him with a flat face and crossed arms, “Fine.” How were you supposed to say no to that charming smile he shot you?
That charming smile turned into a victorious one that he didn’t even try to hide. It stayed plastered on his face as his hand reached up to your cabinet, grabbed too small glasses, filled them with ice, and then poured the tea equally into each glass. Your body slid past his as you reached up into the cabinet as well, picking up a bowl and pour out some chili-lime rolled tortilla chips. He took the empty packet from your hands and tossed it in the trash.
“So, what movie do you wanna watch?” He asked, making his way over to your couch.
“Mm,” You hummed in thought, “I’m not sure, what are you in the mood for?”
“Not a rom-com. So, don’t ask.”
“Yeesh, what’s wrong with rom-coms?”
“They’re cringey, predictable, and boring.”
“I thought you loved Your Eyes Only!”
He gave you an intentionally nervous smile.
“Wow. Okay.”
“Sorry,” He laughed softly and curled up on your couch, shoving the decorative pillow away with his leg.
You sat next to him, taking the glass he handed you and setting it on the coffee table. Jungwon never used the coffee table. He’d just hold the drink in his hand, taking big sips of his drink and finishing it within the first ten minutes. He’d also pick up your drink and set it on a coaster because he knew you wouldn’t finish it before the condensation began to drip onto the table.
“Hey, I think that new short series came out on Netflix.”
“Which series?” You clicked on the Netflix account and picked your profile.
“It’s called ‘Manifesto: Day 1’.”
“Oh the alien one?”
“Yeah!” He watched you search it up, “The fighting in it looks sick.”
Jungwon’s brow raised slightly as he watched your body stiffen at the word “fighting”. The sip he took from the glass was audible but he laid his suspicion to rest as you fumblingly turned on the show. The list of episodes appeared, including Walk the Line the first episode which was an hour and 12 minutes long.
“Each episode is an hour?!” You exclaimed only for Jungwon to laugh in return.
“It’ll be good, don't worry.”
“Yeah okay.” You leaned back into the couch as the show began to play.
The episode was apparently over an hour long but it didn’t feel that way — and not for any good reason. The show in its violence and action drew your focus on sweatstained memories and whims of concern.
One of the characters had strapped someone to a chair and proceeded to yell at him with all the grace of a grizzly bear. Upon not receiving the answer he was looking for, he gave the tied man a swift punch across the face. It hit you hard — metaphorically — the memory of Jungwon’s bandaged fist pounding across his opponent’s face so hard that it left a sound reverberating in the small stadium.
You weren’t sure if you’d flinched or not but Jungwon’s hand had instinctively moved closer to you. Perhaps in comfort. But you just stared at those knuckles — those slightly reddened knuckles — knowing exactly what they were used for just a couple nights ago. It sent a shiver down your spine.
The bruises the characters wore, the ones they tried to hide, filled your mind with potent worry of all the injuries Jungwon had had to hide. Did he have his ribs wrapped under his big hoodies? Did he buy concealer to hide the bruising to his jaw? Has he ever gone to the ER not knowing how to explain his injuries? Has he laid awake at night in pain and had no one to talk to?
Your shoulders tensed involuntarily but unnoticeably — unnoticeably to anyone but Jungwon that is.
Unfortunately, that very man was sitting next to you, dragging his eyes across your tense body.
“Y/N.”
You jumped at the sound of your name falling from his lips. The flinch had him sitting up and staring at you intensely, eyebrows furrowed and all. Your shaky gaze met his steady one and it incited you with the most gnawing anxiety you’d ever experienced. You begged him in your mind not to ask. Of course, he did.
“Did something happen?”
Your heart stuttered out of beat and your voice was a bit too sanitized as you spoke, “What? No! Nothing happened!”
Jungwon’s face fell into an incredulous expression. His hand grabbed the remote and paused the episode before looking back at you. Staring as if the answer would appear on your forehead if he waited long enough.
“Y/N, I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re lying to me.”
Your voice filled with bittersweet laughter, “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“What doesn’t mean anything.” His brows creased impossibly more.
“I mean, it doesn’t matter how long you know someone. You never really know if they’re lying to you or not.”
Jungwon straightened and sharpened his gaze, “What does that mean?” He pressed.
You wracked your brain for an answer it didn’t have.
“Nothing. It means nothing, forget about it.”
“No, tell me. It’s obviously bothering you.”
“No. I don’t want to talk about it, Wonie.”
“Woah, hey,” He held up his hands in surrender, “I’m just trying to communicate with you. I want to know what’s wrong because I care about you.”
“You should worry more about yourself, don’t you think?” You laughed as if it would lighten the thick tension building between you.
“What do you mean by that?” He had this half smile on his face as if he was prepared to turn sweet or sour depending on your response.
A cold sweat ran across your forehead, “I mean you should really care more about yourself.”
“I take care of myself just fine.”
“Yeah… right. Sure.”
“What is wrong with you? You’re acting weird? You know I can tell when something’s wrong, we’ve been best friends long enough for that.”
“No, you can’t.” You argued, your voice starting to rise along with your body as you stood up, “I just told you it doesn’t matter how long you know someone. One day you can wake up and find out that they’ve been lying to you for years before you even close your eyes for the night!”
Something about the way he stayed completely silent with his dark eyes boring into your own had your heart falling to the floor.
“What did you find out?” He asked carefully, standing up slowly.
It was in this silence that you realized that he was waiting for your answer with a held breath, you were waiting for your answer with shallow rapid ones. Seeing him from this angle — him standing right in front of you with his broad shoulders and his big hoodie hiding his disciplined body — being hyper-aware of how aggressive Jungwon could be if he wanted to, it was a sobering thought. One that incited more fear than necessary. Jungwon was your sweet and selfless best friend: he’d never hurt you.
You swallowed thickly despite the fact.
“Nothi–”
“Tell me.”
“Jungwon…” The name was shrouded in tones of concern, fear, and disappointment.
You could see it in the gleam of his eye: the last bit of hope that you hadn’t found out dimming. You took such a deep breath your lungs stretched to its fullest capacity. You were annoyed at Jungwon for not telling you his Friday itinerary, you can’t be hypocritical and refuse to tell him you know. So, you released your breath of air and braced for impact.
“Jungwon, I followed you to the gym on Friday,” You watched his face pale and his eyes widen, “And I know that’s weird and kind of stalker-ish and part of me felt bad at first. But we have bigger fish to fry because why are you in some sort of secret, underground, WWE, fight club? And if that wasn’t illegal enough, why are there people betting on your victory?”
None of your questions were answered, “How did you get down there?” His hands came to rest on your upper arms. His touch stiffened your body into a board.
“What?” You spoke again before he could repeat the question: “How else? I went in through the shower.”
“You went into the men’s locker room?” His face conveyed just how appalled he felt.
“Ok, if we’re counting cardinal sins, I think being a part of an illegal underground boxing ring and enabling illegal gambling takes the cake here.”
Jungwon closed his eyes and sighed, attempting to push your response from his mind.
“Did anybody see you?”
“Uh,” You shrunk from the intensity of his gaze, “Well, I mean I’m sure someone did but like I couldn’t name someone off the top of my head.”
Jungwon moved his hands to drag them against his face.
“Y/N, what were you doing there?! Why did you follow me?!”
“To see if you were telling the truth about going to the gym! I mean, Jungwon you’re always unavailable on Fridays and you left our study session so fast you might qualify as having superspeed! God forbid I’m a little curious to see where you go on Fridays!”
“And?” He threw his hands up in the air, “I was at the gym. Like I said.”
Your brows furrowed in offense, “No, you weren’t? The gym is the upper floor, you were playing Rocky down in the basement with some poor guy — that you absolutely smoked, by the way — but that is not the gym!”
Jungwon looked at you as if you’d grown three heads. You felt like maybe you had.
Jungwon licked his lips once he’d arranged his thoughts, “Okay, first of all: it's not wrestling and it's not boxing. Which means WWE and Rocky do not work as analogies.” You shook your head and rolled your eyes, “Second of all, I don’t really give a damn, Y/N. You put yourself in so much danger just by being at that gym and you have no idea.”
He ran a hand through his blond hair and you caught the way he winced when he tightened his jaw.
“Jungwon,” You spoke in a grave tone.
“No, you listen to me.” He demanded in seriousness you’d never heard from him before, “You are so lucky that nobody saw you. I don’t want to see you there, I don’t want to hear about you being there, ever again. The people there are dangerous—”
“What like you?” You asked before you could stop yourself and the question hit him like a truck, “You go there. I saw what you did— What you can do.” Pure, unadulterated fear flashed in those deep browns. “It’s literally a fight club, Jungwon. Obviously it's dangerous. There are people beating up others for fun… and money.”
Jungwon huffed out a disbelieving smile, “You have no idea.”
“Then how about you tell me instead of being cryptic. But that’s what you do, isn’t it?” The words were pulled from somewhere deep in your heart, “You make a life-threatening decision and then you don’t tell anyone because you don’t think it's that big of a deal. Or am I the only one who doesn’t know?”
“Y/N, the fight club is run by crime syndicates.”
You looked like the image of stupid with the way your eyes widened and mouth opened and closed like a fish.
“What?”
“Yeah,” He spoke overwhelmingly calmly, “So, when I tell you that it’s dangerous and you should never go there again, you will listen to me.” His voice left no room for negotiation.
“And what about you? Why are you going to a fight club run by the South Korean mafia? I can’t let you go back there either.”
“I have to.”
“Oh, what a load of bull,” You rolled your eyes, “You have free will, Jungwon. Please use it to value your life.”
“Y/N, I can’t.” You knew what he would say before he said it, “I’m contracted under one of the syndicates as a fighter.”
“And you can’t get out?”
“The only way is if I bought myself out.”
“Okay,” You spoke like it was the simplest thing in the world, “Then buy yourself out.”
It only made him laugh.
Like really laugh. An uncontrollable, unceasing laugh that was tinged with something akin to bitterness.
“Why are you laughing?” You asked exhausted and beyond annoyed.
“Do you seriously think it's that easy?”
“I don’t know, Jungwon.” You were finally yelling. Your voice had been rising throughout the argument but seeing Jungwon’s lack of self-preservation sent you over the edge. “Maybe I’d understand if you actually responded to me instead of tossing me bread crumbs and hoping I’ve had my fill.”
Jungwon’s expression was so flat that it was difficult to imagine that he was laughing mere moments ago.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed, “God, yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to get for the past ten minutes.”
“I can’t buy myself out because I can’t afford to.” His eyes had never looked as dark as they did now, “I have too large of a debt to buy myself out.”
“How much?” You sighed.
Jungwon looked at something — nothing in specific — just so he wouldn’t have to look you in the eyes.
“Well, the whole reason I joined is because they said that they’d pay my tuition if I joined their fight club team.”
“Who?” Eyebrows creased as you pressed for information.
“Belift.” He took your silence as a cue to keep going. “You know I’m a black belt in taekwondo, right? When I was searching for scholarships to pay for tuition, I saw one that required a black belt in a martial art. The scholarship said that if you could prove it with pictures of your accolades or with videos then you’d receive at least five-million South Korean Won.”
“Five-million? Just for proving you had a black belt?”
“No.” Jungwon answered, his tone wrapping the word in gravity, “The scholarship was something that had to be continuously earned. The scholarship is employment-based.” He sighed and closed his eyes, when they opened they were filled with newfound focus, “Okay, basically, the scholarship functions as a job. Once you’re accepted, you join their ‘staff’ or their ‘team’ and you compete against other candidates who received scholarships. You get five-million if you win the mini tournament they have. Then you get an opportunity to fight against another opponent for seven-hundred-fifty-thousand. And it keeps going on: you fight, you win, you get paid. They pay your monthly installment for tuition using your balance and you keep fighting for them.”
Your mind stalled as you tried to wrap your head around the specifics of the deal. As you were processing, a memory washed itself to the surface of your brain. The announcers talking about Jakah’s performance last week.
“Wait so then, what happens if you lose?”
He took a deep breath, “Then the amount of money you would have won from the fight is subtracted from your balance.”
You nodded. You expected that.
“So, let me get this straight,” You began to clarify, “You joined this fight club. You won the beginning tournament against other scholarship applicants and won five-million. Then you were offered to fight again with a bag of seven-hundred-fifty-thousand each win. But if you’re in debt with the syndicate — Belift — then how many times did you lose? Because if it's just a couple million then I have some savings.” His eyes filled with a poisonous mix of adoration and shame. “I can buy you out, Wonie.”
“Seventy.”
“Pardon?”
“My debt is seventy-million.”
The air felt too thin to stay in your lungs. Your brain felt too small to carry all your thoughts.
“God, Jungwon, how many times did you lose?!”
Jungwon’s eyes became unfocused — as if he suddenly became detached from the conversation, or perhaps the topic of conversation.
“After you win five times, you enter into a different level and the price of victory becomes higher. I won five times so the victory pay-out became one-and-a-half-million. Then after you win another ten times, the pay-out is two-million. And of course, as you progress to higher levels, you fight stronger opponents.”
“Ok so at what level did you start losing?”
“Seven-million.” He informed but was quick to add, “I lost a lot but not as much as you think.”
“You lost ten times?”
“No.”
You raised a brow, encouraging him to continue.
“I lost more than that but I’ve won some back,” He ran a hand through his hair, “Then lost it again, then won it back.” His his locked onto yours, “But it’s not because I’m a bad fighter.”
You furrowed your brows, “Jungwon, I was there on Friday night. I know you’re not a bad fighter.”
“No, no, listen to me,” He placed his strong hands on your upper arms again, “Before I made it into the seven-million bracket, I was undefeated. I was on track to winning against everyone on every syndicate's roster. After I made it into that final bracket, I started losing.”
“Because your opponents got stronger?”
“No,” Jungwon’s head fell but his hands remained steady on your arms, “Every Friday it’s something new. This Friday wasn’t so bad… but it still sucked.”
“What are you talking about?”
He pulled his head up to look you in the eye, “Someone filled my water bottle with vinegar.”
“What?!”
“I found out after the first round after chugging it.”
“Ugh, gross.”
“That’s why I went so hard yesterday. I needed to end the match quickly because I was getting dehydrated.”
Your lips downturned in concern.
He paused for a moment before continuing, “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mad. Last week it was laxatives.”
“It was what?!” Your hand flew to your mouth to hold back your laugh.
Jungwon sighed, “Yes. My only options were to run out of the ring like a sissy or crap my pants in front of a thousand or more people.”
Your eyes stared at him wide but blank — unassuming.
“Obviously, I ran out of the ring, Y/N.” He tried to school his face into annoyance amid your outburst of laughter. “Yeah well, there have been other things too: stealing my mouth guard, blaring noises in my ears to throw off my balance, sanding the soles of my shoes flat, stealing my clothes. Everything you could think of.”
He took in the soft expression you gave him: eyebrows pulled, lips marked downward, eyes glimmering in empathy. He hated seeing it. He didn’t want you to feel pity for him or think of him as weak. That’s the last thing he wanted.
“Yeah well, I’ll let you know what happens next week.”
“No, what? Jungwon, who is doing this?” You asked him, “The sabotage is literally so unfair, get them to stop.”
“I would if I could. But I don’t know who’s doing it and I don’t think the staff would do anything about it.”
“Why not?”
“One of the rules is: in the ring anything goes. That's why I said that it’s neither wrestling or boxing. You can use any fight style, you can do anything, as long as you don’t bring a weapon and you look out for the tap-outs.”
“So, you can pretty much beat the demons out of a man until he taps-out? That’s so stupid… you’re gonna get yourself killed, Wonie.”
“Yeah but I haven’t yet.”
“Wait, but I have a question.” You watched Jungwon give you a nod with expectant eyes, “If the rule is that anything goes in the ring then all of the sabotage that happens outside of the ring is punishable, right?”
He cracked his knuckles absentmindedly, “Honestly, I don’t know. My manager and the rest of the fighters for Belift know about the sabotage but no one knows who’s doing it or how to stop it. They usually don’t target the same thing twice. I think they stole my water bottle twice because the laxatives worked so well.”
He spoke in a joking manner but his words tinged the air with salt. It caused your heart to ache for him — he wasn’t safe, he was being sabotaged, and he couldn’t escape. Before you could overthink it, you wrapped your arms around his middle and held him tightly. As if your arms were strong enough to keep him safe. As if your head pressed against his chest did anything to alleviate the ache in his heart.
His arms wrapped around your shoulders and he dipped his head to rest on yours, “I’m sorry I kept this from you but you have to understand. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in this mess…” He paused, his chest rose and fell as his heart picked up, “I wanted to protect you. I want to keep you safe. So please, don’t go to the gym again.”
A wave of helplessness washed you onto the shore of reality. You wanted to help Jungwon but what could you do? You can’t fight. You can’t pay his debt.
“Wait here.” You commanded before running into your room and grabbing that dark blue plastic bottle. “Here,” You held the water bottle out to him, “I grabbed this on the way out of the gym last night.”
Jungwon furrowed his brows before walking to your door and grabbing his blue backpack. Zipping it open, he pulled out the same blue water bottle: Decilis University Class of 2027.
Your faces mirrored each other — eyebrows creased and eyes full of suspicion. Jungwon flipped the bottle to see the bottom of it, he turned it toward you so you could see. You mirrored his actions and showed him the bottom of the bottle you held.
Even though the rest of the bottles were identical, only the bottom of one of them claimed in plain letters: Yang Jungwon.
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“I’ve never used a different water bottle.” He glanced down at you with your eyes glued to the bottles.
“I know you haven’t. Which is why I wanna know how you suddenly acquired a second one.”
“I really don’t know. I took my water bottle downstairs.”
You turned to stare at him, “Wonie, if you didn’t leave this water bottle upstairs and you know for a fact that you brought it down to the basement then that means someone switched the water bottles.”
Jungwon furrowed his brows and then sat next to you on the couch, “Wait, what do you mean?”
“The water bottle I took home on Friday is Water Bottle A and the bottle that you took home on Friday is Water Bottle B.” Jungwon nodded his head, “You took Water Bottle A from the cafe, to the gym, and to the basement, but when you drank from it there was no longer water in it it but vinegar. And you came home with Water Bottle B and I found Water Bottle A on the floor of the gym. That means that somewhere between your arrival in the basement and the moment you drank from it in your fight, someone switched the bottles.”
Jungwon paused to compute the theory, “Okay, but that’s assuming I had Water Bottle A when I walked into the gym. And assuming someone bought our university’s water bottle just to trick me.”
“True…” You frowned, “But how would you even get a second water bottle? And how would you not realize that you were using two?”
Jungwon shrugged.
“Also, if they did switch your bottles on Friday, they probably did it last Friday too. Just, you know, with laxatives instead of vinegar.”
“Can we please not talk about that?” Jungwon dropped his head, his reddened ears hidden behind tuffs of blond hair.
You giggled at his embarrassment which caused his face to get even redder — just not for the reason you thought.
With his elbows on his knees, he turned his head to look at you, “So, how do we prove that they’ve been switching my water bottle?”
“Easy,” You smiled cunningly. “Go to the gym and make sure to leave Water Bottle B there and keep Water Bottle A with you. Then on Friday, take Water Bottle A with you to the basement, then when you go home that night see if you have Water Bottle A or B.”
He nodded, “But that won’t tell us who’s switching the bottles.”
“No, it won’t, unless…” You refrained from finishing the thought.
“No.”
“Jungwon—”
“I said ‘no’.”
“It’d be the easiest way to see who’s sabotaging you!”
“It’d also be the easiest way to put you in danger.” His gaze held you in a firm grip, “We don’t know when this person is switching the bottles and if the other fighters see that you’re coming in with me?” He let out a huff, “You were never safe there to begin with but if you come in with me then you’ll have a bright red target painted on your back.”
“You’re being dramatic, Jungwon.”
For a moment he just stared at you like you as if you’d started speaking another language. It made you feel dumb, like you were missing something.
“Y/N, there are people that owe these crime syndicates more money than I do. Some of them get off to beating up other people, some get off to watching others get their ass handed to them. Most of the people there lost in fights to me. Most of them hate me.” He paused and his gaze softened, “They will use any opportunity to get at me including hurting those I care about… I will not let you get hurt.”
You nodded because you did understand him, but he wasn’t seeing things from your perspective.
“Jungwon, I get that. I get that you want to keep me safe but I also want to keep you safe. I don’t want you to be stuck in this cycle of fighting for these syndicates and getting deeper in debt while they keep exploiting you for money.” You hoped your eyes conveyed all your desperation, in case your words failed you, “I don’t want to lay in bed every Friday night not knowing whether or not you’ll be going home to your seven centimeter dorm mattress or a hospital bed.”
Jungwon set his hand on the space between your kneecap and thigh — a safe space, close enough to be intimate, far enough to be platonic — his thumb stoked your skin only once but it was enough for a shiver to run up your spine. His eyes were filled with the pain you only get from restraint.
“I know you’re worried, but please let me handle this.”
His hand felt heavy on your knee, like he was grounding you — or maybe himself — before he took the bottles and shoved them in his backpack. Stepping into his shoes and turning to look at you for a breath of a moment. Then he stepped out the door, locking it before he left.
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It would be advantageous to say that you and Jungwon acted like nothing happened. Like you went about the next week as you always had: giggling in lectures, eating underwhelming cafeteria food, sending Instagram Reels at stupidly late hours into the night, “wya” and “wyd” texts, impromptu hang outs at your dorm, and cafe study dates at your part-time job. But none of this happened this week albeit for a text or two and one Reel you hadn’t even opened yet. The week was categorized in unsent messages, stolen glances, and hearts full of unspoken words.
Friday wasn’t as mundane as the days before, not with the whirlwind of anxiety trapping itself in your body. Your leg bounced rapidly where you sat before you got up and paced then sat back down again. Restless and repetitive. Your whole body felt unbearably hot though your air conditioner was blowing enough cold air to give goosebumps. Your mind shuffled through thoughts, theories, and hypotheticals like the flash cards you helped Jungwon study for economics. Your car keys glimmered at you like a precious diamond at the feet of a burglar.
It was only natural that you’d find yourself parked on the side of the street by the gym.
Close enough to get there quickly, far enough to not attract suspicion. You’d seen enough movies.
You dressed in a pair of jeans, a plain shirt, a baseball cap, and a black face mask. Something simple and inconspicuous — something forgettable. You peeked into the windows of the gym which framed the empty gym. The attendant at the desk got up spinned in his chair absent-mindedly with his AirPods in and his thumb scrolling through videos. You took the chance to crack the door open, slide through, and sneak past him and behind the large equipment. He didn’t look over once.
You checked the spot where Water Bottle A had been last week, with the spot being empty, you turned your sight on the locker rooms. Since you were here, three hours earlier than you had been last week, you figured a couple things would be different.
In fact, there were a lot of factors you were working with that were based off of assumptions. The first being, since Jungwon is in the highest fighting bracket and people started leaving after his match — the other brackets likely had their matches before him. The second being, since he never mentioned the scholarship having a gender requirement, there are likely women fighters as well. Which means the women’s locker room would have a door — or shower — to the basement too.
The only problem was getting down there without being seen. You walked into the locker room seeing it mostly empty and walked up to locker that was available. You glanced at the two girls who were in there, who were busy lacing up their shoes or braiding their hair out of their face. Your eyes glanced at their lockers to see two silver name plates: Huh Yunjin and Kim Chaewon. They were fighters in the basement.
With your locker door swung out, it hid your face from view and you used the opportunity to removed the jeans and shirt, revealing a workout set underneath — as if you were about to ‘hit the gym’ or whatever Jungwon usually says. You thought this might happen. The girls would be waiting for you to leave so that they could get down to the basement; you needed them to think you were just here to workout so that you could follow them without being on their radar.
So, you stepped out into the gym, walked to a machine, pretended to look for your headphones, and then walked back into the locker room. To find it perfectly empty. You threw on the jeans and tshirt and rushed to the back. And of course, the seventh shower was closed off only this time you had to figure out how to open it. You twisted and pulled the knobs but neither of them did anything. You grabbed the showerhead, examined it, pulled at it — nothing. You pressed on every tile all the way to the floor — again, nothing. You grabbed the hot handle again and pushed in and then twisted it like a normal doorknob — effectively opening the door.
A strikingly similar staircase to the one in the men’s locker room opened up and you walked down with all the confidence of familiarity. The stands were packed but they were’t quite full yet. You looked to the direction the betters had gone after Jungwon’s match — on the ground floor there was an opening which led to a long counter with recpetionist and lines of people waiting to place their bets. You walked in and watched what the people did: how and in what order. Then you repeated.
First, stop at the ATM and draw some cash.
Second, check the roster and their percentage of winning:
Bracket 1 Male — KEONHO | 57.84% vs WOONHAK | 42.16%
Female — YOONCHAE | 48.61 % vs IROHA | 51.39%
Bracket 2 Male — YUMA | 48.12% vs SUNGHO | 51.88%
JUHOON | 47.46% vs RIWOO | 52.54%
MARTIN | 46.88% vs JO | 53.22%
Female — EUNCHAE | 63.25% vs HAERIN | 36.75%
Bracket 3 Male — MAKI | 50.00% vs JAMES | 50.00%
SUNOO | 78.88% vs TAKI | 21.12%
NI-KI | 80.58% vs BAMKYU 20.42%
Female — HYEIN | 78.62 vs MINJU | 21.38%
MANON | 49.99% vs DANIELLE | 50.01%
Bracket 4 Male — HYUKA | 22.23% vs JAY | 77.77%
SUNGHOON 63.25% vs NICHOLAS | 46.75%
EJ | 43.97% vs JAKE | 56.03%
Female — YUNJIN | 65.00% vs LARA | 35.00%
HANNI | 67.36% vs MEGAN | 32.74%
KAZUHA | 57.82% vs WONHEE 42.28%
Bracket 5 Male — YEONJUN | 48.33% vs EVAN | 51.77%
SOOBIN | 13.44% vs K | 86.56%
TYUN | 42.98% vs JAKAH | 57.02%
Female — SAKURA 79.00% vs DANIELA | 21.00%
CHAEWON | 55.39% vs YUNAH | 44.61%
MINJI | 55.55% vs SOPHIA | 44.45%
Third, place bets at the counter — with the most strategic and thorough consideration in order to make the most money possible.
Of course, you would not be making any bets today. Or ever. Because it’s illegal — then again, being here probably is too, but you’re not really itching to add to your crimes. So you backed out and found a seat high up in the stands, out of view from most of the crowd, near the passage to the women's locker room. And you waited. Through 18 long matches before you saw him.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him like this before, you’d seen him like this a week ago. Dark blue shorts and a simple black tank that hugged his frame deliciously. His thick biceps on full display and his broad shoulder wider with his chest puffed slightly. You watched him set down his water bottle on a stool at the corner that he would enter the ring on. The answer to whether or not that bottle was the one he’d entered with, whether it actually held water, or if someone had yet to tamper with it, could only be answered in time.
Tyun was the opponent on the other side. He stood at around the same height as Jungwon and looked to be similarly muscular. Your eyes squinted as you watched Jungwon take in the sight of his opponent. He looked stiff and on edge. Had the sabotage already happened? Did it have anything to do with the water bottle at all or had they moved onto a different tactic. Your leg bounced slightly in your seat before you realized that the rapid motion would draw unwanted attention. You sat as inconspicuously as you could and kept your gaze on the dark blue water bottle resting on the stool. The announcers began their opening statements.
“Well, I don’t know about you Dino but I, for one, am beyond excited to see this match play out.”
“You’re not the only one S.Coups. You, me, and the rest of this crowd are ready to see this match between two of the best fighters we have in the club.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. Today, in the orange shorts, we have BigHit's TYUN, who specializes in traditional boxing. We expect to see a lot of feints, well-timed strikes, and strong follow through on those punches.”
“He’s also impeccable at blocking, don’t forget S.Coups.”
“Right, of course.”
You took in the information and attempted to cross reference it with Jungwon’s fighting style but it hit you — you don’t know what his fighting style is. The only time you have ever seen Jungwon fight was last week. A fight which he said that he had been intentionally more aggressive in, in order to end the fight quickly. His default fighting style is an enigma to you.
“In the blue shorts we have Belift’s JAKAH, who specializes in taekwondo. Tonight, you’ll see from him more leg work: kicks, dodges, body-locks and things of that sort. The kid is quick on his feet, let me tell you.”
“And aggressive too! Last week was abnormal for JAKAH — throwing mean punches and taking hits head on instead of dodging and assessing how best to attack.”
“That’s true, Dino, we did see a different side to JAKAH last week. Perhaps, we’ll see a different side to him today.”
“You think he’ll recover from his losing streak? Or was last week just a stroke of luck?”
You held back a huff of annoyance. Jungwon didn’t believe in luck. He believed in hard work and maybe the tiniest bit of Fate — but not luck.
“I’m not sure but seeing as TYUN is a reigning champion in the ring… Well, let’s just say I have my money on the safer side.”
Half the group erupted in boastful laughs and presumptuous whoops. You watched Jungwon shake his head before he pointed at a roll of bandages on the ground. A guy around the same age as him handed it to him. It was then that you realized a bit of a crowd had gathered in Jungwon’s corner: some dressed like coaches or managers, some dressed like fighters. Jungwon seemed familiar with all of them or if he wasn’t, it didn’t show. It was his lack of concern that had you not blinking your eye twice at them — until their bodies began to obstruct the view of the water bottle.
“I don’t know about that, Dino, JAKAH has the better odds today with over 57 percent.”
“Yeah, but TYUN has stayed consistent in his wins and losses.” Dino argued and you watched a tall, slightly pale, incredibly buff man with nice brows call Jungwon and say something that looked along the lines of “this announcer can shove it”. “JAKAH was undefeated until about three matches into the fifth bracket. Then he went on this massive losing streak which he had yet to fully recover from.”
“Top ten mysteries of the world, huh?”
Jungwon’s coach began to advise him, using punching and blocking gestures to demonstrate his points. The blond man nodded and began to jump slightly, shuffling his feet and lightening his steps. A woman — manager, maybe — handed him his mouth guard and offered him a towel which he rejected. The crowd, which had entertained itself with side-chatter, had begun to dwindle in volume and shift their attention to the ring in the center.
You glanced over at Jungwon’s opponent and felt a wave of anxious heat flood through your veins. They did look evenly matched. Too even. But from the sounds of it, their fighting styles seemed contrasting. Like rocks versus water. Your head filled with silent prayers of victory as the buzzer sounded.
Jungwon continued to bounce between feet, keeping himself between groundedness and charge. Tyun seemed entirely more relaxed. He shuffled around Jungwon — the two of them in a dance with their steps on different beats — before Tyun advanced with jabs that were made for nothing but distraction. To pull his focus on his hands. Left. Right. Left Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Right. Right. And then knee up to Jungwon’s abdomen — which thankfully, the blond managed to dodge. Jungwon advanced this time, just as quickly as he dodged, he swept his feet under Tyun’s causing him to jump back.
You chanced a look toward Jungwon’s team who crowded around his corner, yelling cheers and suggestions that sounded more like commands. Jungwon ignored all of them, bringing his fists up to his face and exchanging them with Tyun. Firsts knock into fists, knuckles digging into forearms, legs in constant limbo between pursuit and retreat.
“JAKAH throws a steady one! And TYUN takes the opening! His fist just reaches his nose! Another light jab — it looks like he’s stunned! And a full-force punch blocked by JAKAH’s arms!”
“I don’t know S.Coups, that looks like it hurts. Hey, have you ever broken your forearm while blocking?”
“Hah! Not me personally, but there have been stranger things when it comes to JAKAH.”
You exhaled steadily as the crowd roared in laughter. Jungwon was backing up in light bounces and shaking his arms out. You weren’t a fighter but it was a telltale sign that the punch had left bruises that would soon start blooming.
Jungwon rolled his shoulders and took the same stance as before: fists up to his face with his fingers facing him. Tyun had a mirroring stance. Then in the blink of an eye, Jungwon rushed toward him and sent a kick low on the man’s stomach, too fast for him to block completely, which caused his hand to get wedge between his stomach and Jungwon's foot. With the momentum garnered, Jungwon used the foot he had on the ground to jump closer and folded his raised leg back in toward his chest before launching it up at Tyun’s face. Still stunned from the sudden kick to his gut, Tyun fails to dodge the attack fully and is left with a bloody nose. On instinct, Tyun jumps out of Jungwon’s area of attack and keeps his legs bent and his body small and defensive.
“Whew, that’s the champion I remember! And it seems like the crowd remembers him too if the jeers are any indication, huh, Dino?”
“Yeah, what a flawless double-kick from JAKAH. The change in strategy from a boxing style to his familiar taekwondo was the perfect ruse and surprise to knock Tyun off his balance.”
You released a breath that had caught itself unknowingly in your lungs. The team in Jungwon’s corner was going wild — all nine of them, still there and still cheering. You noticed that six of them were in simple tanks and shorts, much like the outfit Jungwon was wearing to fight in. The other three were in black, one of them with white lettering that read: COACH.
“And he caught him!” The announcer’s voice rang in the room, pulling your gaze from the sidelines to the center ring. “TYUN’s got a hold of JAKAH’s leg, mid-kick. Now pulling him to the mat!”
Your heart raced, pulse pounding so loud in your ears that it drowned the announcer out. You watched Tyun straddle a fallen Jungwon, landing an immediate punch across his jaw. The jaw that had been hit only a week prior. Jungwon moved his hands to push him off but another punch landed across his nose — it had you wondering if that spot was chosen because of convenience or personal vendetta. Jungwon moved his hands to his face, blocking the onslaught of punches but TYUN didn’t let up, instead standing up and readying his elbow to dig into Jungwon’s ribs as he fell on them.
Your hand flew over your mouth, leg bouncing uncontrollably, as Jungwon rolled over just in time. But as he scrambled to get back up amid the blood rushing out of his nose, Tyun grabbed his left shoulder and his waist and pulled him back before sliding his left hand over Jungwon’s neck and placing him in a headlock.
“Oh! The tide turns quickly with TYUN in the ring!”
“Oh yeah. I heard some of the betters have started calling him ‘The Magician’.”
Jungwon's hands tugged at Tyun’s arms in a vain attempt to get free. You watched his legs flail to find a grip — anything, any advantage to free himself. His face got redder, his hands more desperate, his legs more erratic. The air felt unbearable. Like you were sitting in a furnace with freshly chopped wood. The sight of him struggling, the sight of his body thrashing in desperation, the sight of his eyes closing and opening erratically, it pulled your stomach in knots and drew sweat onto your brow.
Then his hand tapped repeatedly on the other man’s bicep and without hesitation the vice he had on Jungwon was released. Jungwon coughed so loudly it reached all the way up to your seat in the makeshift stadium. His coughs were scratchy like they came from the depths of his lungs and gasped for air greedily and hungrily. His feet caught on each other as he crawled and stumbled toward his corner. Hand convulsing in a “give me” motion until his blue bottle met his hand.
His back fell on the ropes of the ring, his whole body weight supported as he leaned on them. His fingers fumbled the open the cap, coughs still falling from his chapped lips, and when he pulled the cap off, those same lips found the mouth of the bottle. He tilted it up and drank ravenously from it. His throat worked around two big gulps before he spat out a fountain of clear liquid.
“Yikes… didn’t this happen last week? I’m starting to think JAKAH doesn’t wash his water bottles….”
The rage you felt from the crowd's easygoing laughter and gossip nearly overtook the worry swelling in your heart. Your eyes took in the way Jungwon’s face scrunched up, the way his coughs became more frequent, the way the bottle slipped from his hands, and his knees inched closer to the floor. As if he’d already accepted his defeat, he just wasn’t ready to let go yet.
His team rapped their hands on the floor, yelling at him, trying to get his attention but he didn’t listen. Didn’t spare them a glance. Just swiped a hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and tried to find solidity in his body again. You imagined it must have been hard. He had just been choked of all the breath in his lungs and missed out on over a minute of fresh oxygen to his blood. He almost passed out, his limbs must still be recovering, his throat must feel ornamented in glass shards, and his brain must be all fogged up without the oxygen to help him think. Then add on whatever mystery liquid had found itself in his bottle that night.
How come you didn’t see who switched the bottles?
The buzzer sounded before you could answer that question. This time, Jungwon didn’t bounce between his feet, he barely kept them steady on the ground. He was leaning to his right, like his axis had tilted and his chest rose and fell in a strange pattern. Tyun took the opportunity in stride, a quick feint with his right which Jungwon blocked. A feint with his left, then with his right. Then he grabbed Jungwon’s biceps and slammed his knee into his torso. Then he pushed him back and twisted his hips to send a deathly punch to Jungwon’s face.
Your body begged you to look away, your heart begged you to watch. It was the least you could do. The least to share in his pain.
Thankfully, he side-stepped out of the way; unluckily, his balance caused him to stumble halfway to the ground. He pushed up, eyes always on his opponent. Tyun rushed him, throwing firm cuts and landing them anywhere he could. Jungwon’s reaction time was a fraction of what it had been before and his strength looked to be significantly minimized as well. After a moment, he held his head completely, suffering through the barrage of punches. He wobbled and fell to his knees, his body teetering like it was about to fall off the edge. Tyun stepped back, confident and in no rush, before sending a kick that tipped Jungwon over and onto his back.
It was like he became a fraction of the fighter he was before. It was easy to see — you didn’t need to be his best friend to see that — not when everyone else was aware of it too. Angry yells and strings of curses protruding from the betters in the stands. People began to stand and scream insults and mockeries at the fallen man below. Jungwon’s head lolled to the side, as if his neck had no strength to support it. His arms twitched and his body tensed but he couldn’t get it to do anything beyond bracing for the incoming impact.
A kick to the ribs. A strong hand that pulled at the fabric of the black tank. A fist to the eye. Then again to the jaw. And a slam back down onto the mat for good measure. Tyun stepped back, body lax, as the referee counted from one to five in a booming voice. Jungwon’s eyes didn’t flutter open, he didn’t tap into some untouched strength. He just laid there on the ground. Unmoving. Soundless. Bloodied.
The picture of defeat.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Pushing through the crowd was not easy. Not when hundreds of bodies were pushing and shoving in either eagerness or bitterness. You happened to fall in the former as you rushed to follow where the team was taking Jungwon. Unease swam through your mind like a rushing river. Was he okay? What happened? He was doing fine and then suddenly he wasn’t. Was the lack of oxygen too much? Were the hits to his head too hard? Does he have a concussion? Should he go to the doctor? How would he get there? Who will take him home in this condition?
The fear settling right onto your shoulders had you moving faster than before. Rushing past the center ring and to the wall at the back under some bleachers. You pushed through a set of matte black painted doors that you had seen Jungwon and his team go through. It opened into a hallway with slightly yellow, slightly dim overhead lights.
“Make sure he’s not dying on me, alright? I got other people to worry about, right now.” A man grumbled before opening and walking through another door deeper into the hallway.
You walked to the door, barely registered the bickering behind the thin wood, until a familiar voice punctured through.
“I couldn’t breathe, Riki.” Jungwon yelled, his voice scratchy and unusually deep.
“All I’m saying,” Another deep voice with a slight Japanese accent said slowly, “Is that you know that bottle is a risk and you still chose to drink from it.”
“You’ve never been choked have you?” A softer voice asked, likely directed at the boy with the Japanese accent.
“Riki,” Jungwon said after a sigh, “There’s nothing I can do to stop the sabotage unless I know who’s behind it. It was a calculated risk.”
Your brows furrowed in concern. Jungwon’s words were slurring slightly, his intonation was off kilter, and his volume was somewhere between too loud and too mumbly.
“Yeah, a risk that caused you twenty blows to the head.” A different voice spoke flatly.
“Everclear.” This voice came out in a perfect American accent before returning to Seoul Korean, “They put everclear in your bottle and you chugged it.”
“Genuinely, how can you tell that that’s everclear just by smelling.” An Australian man asked in English.
“I know my alcohol.” The American responded before returning to Korean, “Anyway, this is ninety-five percent, high proof alcohol, and he chugged it. If he didn’t lose equilibrium from getting choked, he lost it about five minutes after drinking this.”
“Yeah, his reaction time slowed significantly.” A sweet voice spoke next.
“And there’s no point in talking to him right now because he genuinely looks on the verge of passing out. Great.” The first guy — Riki — said.
It was at this remark that you opened the door, immediately locking eyes with a red-flushed Jungwon, who stood up straight at the sight of you.
“Y/N?!”
“Jungwon!” You grabbed his head, ignoring the simmering confusion gracing the room, and checked his eyes for any abnormality. “How’s your head?”
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” His eyes were wide in shock. From the closeness, you could see his face already beginning to swell, the dried blood crusted on the edges of his nostrils, and a split on his bottom lip.
“Oh God, Jungwon!” You exclaimed, “Do you need to go to the hospital? I’ll drive you. Can you walk? Where are your other injuries?” Your hands fumbled to the hem of his tank top, about to pull it up to assess the injuries to his abdomen, when Jungwon’s firm hand caught your wrists.
His body swayed unsteadily for a moment, he blinked harshly at you, as if he was forcing his eyes to focus on your face and begging his brain to produce a worthwhile thought.
“I told you not to come here again.” His voice teetered on the edge of passion and breathlessness, “I thought I made that clear.”
His voice held a harshness he had never before taken with you.
“Yes, I know that but—”
“But what?!” He nearly yelled, the force behind his voice causing him to shuffle his feet to find his balance. “There’s nothing — nothing! — you can tell me that would convince me that you being here was a good idea!”
“Not even—”
“Nothing!” He slid his hands to your shoulders but for what reason, it was harder to tell. To maximize the intensity of his words or to keep him balanced via your support. “How long have you been here? Who saw you? Damn it, Y/N.” His fingers squeezed your shoulders as he dropped his head.
You assumed he did it to hide his face. Too ashamed to grimace in front of you or show any sign of pain, fragility, or weakness.
“Jungwon, I’m just trying to help you.”
“Helping me would be staying away.” He grumbled, blinking his eyes back in focus to you. “Not intentionally disobeying me when I specifically asked you not to come here. What were you going to do?”
“I couldn’t sit at home knowing that you were going to fight someone and unfairly at that!” You argued back, hands coming up and taking hold of his forearms. Gently, knowing all that they’ve been through tonight alone. “I couldn’t sit back while you were here, alone, facing unknown threats from unknown people.”
“I’ve been doing that for the better part of a year, Y/N, I don’t need you here, risking your safety, attracting unwanted attention, worrying me, and distracting me from my job.”
“This is not a job.”
Jungwon brought a hand to his head and stumbled back slightly. He stood frozen for a moment before shaking his head and turning his tired, fuzzy vision onto you.
“You’re here because you want to protect me from liabilities?” He asked rhetorically, “You are a liability.”
You took a deep breath, expecting this outcome but bursting at the seams with annoyance all the same, “You’re saying I’ve made things worse by being here?”
“Yes!” His voice hit your ears sharply.
“Fine.” You nodded and turned to leave. Footsteps fast and gaze anywhere but the seven pairs of eyes in the room. Jungwon’s hand grabbed your upper arm sloppily and his gaze met yours flat, exhausted, and disappointed.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Back into the arena? Back into the gym? Then out to your car? In the dark? With dozens of fighters pent up from losses or high on victory adrenaline? With hundreds of angry betters and happy ones who think they can double their luck?” He didn’t even stop to laugh, “You think I’m gonna let you go out there and put yourself in more danger than you already are?”
“And what are you going to do?” You asked angrily, the words highlighting the way his eyes blurred in and out of focus, the way his body leaned too far to the right, the way his body was perpetually stiffened — as if the injuries increased in pain when he let loose.
And even with the drunken daze hindering his abilities to stand, talk, see, and think, it was obvious, his desperation. Your shirt clenched slightly in his fist, the furrow in his brows, and the helplessness veiling his dark brown eyes. Desperation was evident in the small details of Jungwon’s being.
His devotion to keeping you safe was no longer enough.
You watched the thought conceptualize as his grip tightened fractionally.
“I’ll make sure she gets out,” A tall man placed his strong hand on the blond’s shoulder. He had a small cut on his right cheek and a gaze soft enough to cover the room in confident peace. “There’s nothing you can do in this state, so let me take her home.”
Jungwon’s shoulders released their tension before tensing up again. If he tried to bite back a grimace, he failed.
“And I,” A man, with angular eyes and the sharpest jawline you’d ever seen, walked toward you, stopping a safe distance away, “Will make sure he’s okay and taken care of.” Something about the way he stared at you as he spoke gave you the impression that he was a man of his word. And you nodded slightly and mumbled a thank you.
And with one last look at Jungwon — or the wreck of him that Tyun left behind — you walked off with his friend. Hat pulled down and mask pulled up, the other boy dressed in a black hoodie and sweats. He led you down the hallway, around various corners, through an exit door, and up a staircase.
The night air was cold and crisp as you led him to your car a few streets out, pleading with him to just let you drive yourself home, promising to text him when you did, and thanking him before driving away. The air of your apartment wasn’t any warmer, not even after a mindless shower, not even after you threw your duvet over your body and snuggled into the sheets.
It was then that you thought: maybe the chill had nothing to do with the temperature in the air but everything to do with the warmth of Jungwon’s words.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
If the week prior had been isolating and strenuous on your relationship with Jungwon, the next week was infinitely worse. You had texted Jungwon’s friend — Heeseung, the one who offered to take you home — that you had gotten there safely. That being his only condition in letting you drive off alone. You had contemplated texting Jungwon too but the cursor blinked on the message bar continuously for minutes. You hadn’t typed a thing.
Instead, you messaged Heeseung. You asked how Jungwon was, if he had any severe injuries, if he had gone to the hospital, if he was at home recovering, and similar things of that nature. Heeseung responded quickly, said he was at Jay’s apartment. Jay, being the man with the sharp jawline. He informed that Jungwon was recovering but he was resting after the harsh beating. Told you that Jungwon wouldn’t be attending any of his lectures this week.
You had swallowed thickly and said thank you. Then went about your week as normally as you possibly could without your twin flame by your side. You attended your own lectures with disinterest but you eagerly met with Jungwon’s professors to get notes for the lectures that he missed. You went to the cafeteria, walking in with no appetite and leaving with even less of one. You skipped out on library study sessions, cafe study sessions, and you picked up extra shifts at the cafe you worked at. Pouring the espresso shot and steaming the milk had been something you’d intentionally been precise with, but you found yourself calling the customer’s name before you even realized you’d finished the drink.
As the days neared closer and closer to Friday, you itched to know. To know if Jungwon had recovered. To know if he was fighting again on Friday. To know if you should tell him what you saw or didn’t see. To know which bottle he had come home with. To know if he was still mad at you.
You: hey heeseung! i was just wondering if there was an update on jungwon’s condition?
heeseung (wonie’s friend): Hey yeah he’s ok
You: is he back at his dorm or is he still at jay’s
heeseung (wonie’s friend): Uhh I think he should be back at his dorm tonight but he’s not rn
You: oh is he at jay’s
heeseung (wonie’s friend): Yes
You: can i come see him?
heeseung (wonie’s friend): Uhhh no I don’t think so
You: why not?
heeseung (wonie’s friend): Because he’s napping rn
You: he’s not there is he? jungwon hates taking naps
heeseung (wonie’s friend): Yeah no he’s not there. Sorry
You: is he at the gym?
You: will he be there on friday?
The bold “read” timestamp mocked you for a good 15 minutes before you got up. Changing into workout clothes and grabbing your things. Pulling up to the gym, you noted that it didn’t have that uncanny feeling anymore. Perhaps it was because of the time of day, perhaps it was because you were familiar with a different feeling that it brought you: worry.
You saw him much before he saw you, though it took you a minute to find him. The gym was much larger than you thought and had an annex which led to a room with two small dingy boxing rings and a couple of punching bags. The bruises on his face were turning a sickly yellow, indicating the nearness of a full recovery. The split on his lip was scabbed over and healing nicely — you assumed that was largely due to the immediate dousing of alcohol it got, thanks to the everclear. The rest of his injuries were hidden beneath his clothing. The strength of his punches against the heavy bag and the lightness of his feet as he kept them moving proved the after effects of low oxygen and everclear had long filtered out of his body.
He looked good. Strong. Determined. Healthy. Glowy. Handsome.
It almost drew you into your cowardice. To flee from him before your boldness made you even more of a liability than you already were. But by that point he had already turned his gaze up to see you. And stopped the rocking of the punching bag. His heavy breaths were the only sound that traveled between you two and it made your mind race. What was he thinking? Was he mad? Why wasn’t he saying anything?
He closed his eyes and released a deep sigh.
“I just came to give you this.” You announced, holding up your duffel bag with two hands.
“Your bag?” He asked with his brows drawn upward. His voice had returned to normal: no longer deep, scratchy, and cold. Just sweet, gentle, and warm. Just Jungwon.
“Well, no,” You unzipped it, “What’s in it.” You clarified and subconsciously registered his slow approach to you. You turned your gaze up to see him fully. He wore a black compression shirt and a pair of black sweats — the dark colors contrasting the lightness of his hair. “Here.”
His face was framed in incredulity as he took the rectangular box from your hand, “What is this?”
“Open it.”
At your command, his fingers made quick work and freed the product from the box. A 40oz, dark blue, steel water bottle — one of the trendy ones.
“I know you loved your old one,” You started, “But I think this one would be safer.”
He flipped the bottle over to see the bottom and smiled slightly at the neatly written letters of his name. Letters written by you.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” You agreed, an ocean of words held behind the floodgates of your sudden anxiety. “I know you probably don’t want to know but I didn’t see it happen.”
He raised a brow at your vagueness, “I’m gonna need a little more than that.”
“The water bottle, I didn’t see anyone take it or change it. So, it must’ve happened before I got there or maybe when I wasn’t paying attention.”
Jungwon twisted the steel bottle in his hands, his mind chewing on the new information, “Yeah, I made sure that I had Water Bottle A before I set it down on that stool.”
You furrowed your brows slightly, “So then, sometime during the match? Someone switched it?”
Jungwon nodded, pressing his lips together, and staring at the bottle in his hands, “Yeah…”
“But the only people in that corner the whole match were…”
“My friends, my coach, and my managers,” He finished for you, “Yeah, I know.”
“And no one saw who did it?”
Jungwon shook his head before setting the bottle down. And stepping closer to you.
“Thank you… for the bottle,” His tone betrayed the next word that would come out of his mouth before he even formed the next sound, “But, you know I can’t have you here.”
You turned your eyes downcast and tried to pretend like dejection wasn’t seeping into skin like a soft but consistent rain. His hand found a vacancy on your shoulder and took it — another liminal space between intimacy and platonicity — which caused you to shift your gaze to him.
“These past two weeks… I’ve felt more estranged from you than I ever have and I’ve hated every minute of it.” He sighed as if it would alleviate any of the ache in his heart, “I care about you too much to keep going like that.” This thumb brushed softly on your shoulder, “I want us to go back to normal. The way we were before you found out about all of this.”
You knew exactly what that meant, exactly what he was asking you to do. Forget all you ever saw, all he ever told you. Pretend none of it happened. Tell your heart to not care so much.
“I’ll handle it, alright?” His voice warm enough to smooth the wrinkles on your forehead, “Don’t worry about me.”
“You know I can’t do that.” You whispered.
His eyes shifted between yours and his finger traced the strap of your workout tank top, “Yeah but I’d like it if you’d try.”
As you took in his pleading eyes and felt the worry of his fidgeting hand, you supposed, it was the least you could do. For him. To pretend like everything was normal. To not add to his stress. To not make things worse for him.
You broke eye contact, “Only if you come over and finish watching Manifesto: Day 1 with me.”
His soft laugh drew a smile to your lips.
“Want me to bring snacks?”
You shook your head, “No, me and the apple green tea will be waiting for you Saturday night.” You told him, choosing Saturday since you knew he wouldn’t be able to attend on Friday. You hesitated to step back — to leave the warmth that his nearness radiated.
“Good.” He returned, his eyes had never left your face, fingers never stopped fiddling with your top, and his voice gave the impression that his mind wasn’t thinking about the current conversation at all. Not with a sight so beautiful in front of him.
But all things must come to an end, as you stepped away from his touch and pulled your gaze from him. Increasing the distance between your bodies but somehow feeling less estranged than you had in weeks. You passed through the front door and into the parking lot, driving off with more of a day in mind than a destination.
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It would be a lie to say that you were calm on Friday. No, you were anything but. You knew you’d be jittery and anxious from the start so you called the White Fang Cafe, asked if you could take another shift, desperate to distract yourself. You even pulled a double but your hopes fell flat as you found your mind embracing the thought of him only seconds after you’d promised not to think of him again.
Everything brought your thoughts back to him. The iced americano you made for a customer named Harua reminded you of the cafe study dates that Jungwon and you would always do — ones where he’d always get an iced americano even if he said he’d try something new. The chocolate croissant you warmed up reminded you of the time he had argued that a chocolate strawberry croissant should be invented and not taking your word for it that it definitely already had been. The order of a lemon, ginger, honey tea reminded you of when he showed up to your apartment the week you caught a bad cold — you riddled off the recipe from the cafe and watched him follow your words perfectly from the domestic lighting of your kitchen.
For twelve long hours, your thoughts branched in every direction and yet they were all rooted in one thing: Jungwon. Not even the comfort of your bed could dispel your mind from thoughts of Jungwon. Not when your mind depicted his strong arms wrapped around you and the warmth of his body sheltering you from every threat — even the cold. You only wished you could’ve done the same for him.
As promised, a little after five, you heard a few soft knocks emanating from the front door. Your feet rushed there like a kid to a tree on Christmas morning. You swung the door open excitedly, nearly knocking a picture frame off the wall as it slammed slightly into it. Just beyond the threshold of your apartment stood your best friend in all his glory. Freshly washed hair, a black shirt that clung to his chest and arms as if it were slightly too small, and a pair of grey sweatpants that you forced your eyes to look away from.
You were expecting a face slightly more beaten than what he had. His jaw was starting to paint on the purple of a bruise and his lip definitely tore open again but other than that. He seemed fine. Perhaps his fight with Tyun was uncharacteristically brutal. Or maybe Jungwon had won his last fight.
“Hi,” He licked his dried lips, taking in your appearance as if it were something to admire. Though you were only in a tank top and simple pajama shorts.
“Hi,” You returned the greeting and stepped out of his way.
His eyes swept across your apartment, taking in the coffee table which was arranged with chili lime chips, buttered popcorn, and his favorite jelly candies. Alongside two bottles of apple green tea and two cups with ice. The TV displayed the next episode on the screen, titled TFW (That Feeling When).
“That eager to see me, huh?” He teased as he kicked off his shoes and took his seat on your couch. The same spot he always sat in. Grabbing his bottle of apple green tea and pouring it into the glass.
Your laugh came out slightly unnaturally. Any normal person wouldn’t be able to tell but Jungwon was not just any normal person. You curled up on your side of the small couch and pressed play. Reaching over and grabbing the tea bottle, struggling slightly to break the seal. You switched hands and tried to recover your pride but before you could give a second attempt, Jungwon held his hand open, offering his help. You placed the bottle in his hands and watched them make quick work of the seal before pouring the golden liquid into your cup and twisting the cap back on.
Wordlessly, he sat back and returned his attention to the show. Yet your eyes stayed glued to him. Him and the small curve of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the glimmer of his blond strands as the setting sun hit them, the light reflecting his dark brown eyes, and the dimple forming on his cheek as he fought back a sly smile.
Manifesto: Day 1 was primarily an action show — it’s why Jungwon chose it — but the episode you were on had quite a large subplot of romance. The main characters out on the sands of a beach, the summer sun setting sipping behind the waves. It was ideal. Serene. Perfect, almost. An image of peace amid chaos. It was these scenes that had Jungwon pulling his brows together and letting the edges of his lips downturn.
The end credits of the episode began to roll and the soft music did nothing to hide the tension that had suddenly grown. You took a small sip of your drink and then turned to blond only to find him staring out into space. The second to last episode began to play, dark and action-packed, and fitting for the mood that had settled in the room like a thick autumn fog.
The sun dipped behind the horizon and the frames of the show flashed by before you could register that you had made it to the final episode. Vaguely, you remembered the scenes but they felt more like apparitions than anything real — or as real as a television show could feel — and while the final words were spoken by the characters, their voices were drowned out by the weight of Jungwon’s stare.
His eyes seemed darker than usual, they seemed to carry more pain than they ever had before. The way his eyes bore into yours told a thousand words, ones you weren’t quite ready to see fall from his pretty lips.
Jungwon wasn’t the type of person to give you the outline and have you color it in. He doesn’t like small talk, or beating around the bush, or making someone read between the lines. He doesn’t speak with fine print in the footnotes of his sentences and he hated peeling bandaids off.
“Y/N, I think we need to talk.”
Avoiding it was pointless. When Jungwon made his mind up about something, that was it. There was no negotiation. And yet somehow, you found yourself shaking your head.
“No…” You stood up, shaking your head as you looked down at him.
He averted his eyes from you and released a deep sigh, “I got a message last night. A picture of you and I at the gym.” He paused, “There was no caption, no number attached, but the message was clear.” He turned to look into your eyes. “You aren’t safe.”
Your brows creased, “Okay but that’s fine, right? We agreed that I’d never go to the gym again.” Your heart thumped erratically as if it knew something your brain hadn’t found out yet.
Jungwon bowed his head and then shook it slightly, standing up from his spot on the couch and turning to pour every emotion held within his dark eyes into yours. You could barely hear him over the rush of blood in your veins.
“I shouldn’t have let it go on this long.” He whispered, placing his hands on your biceps. “I’ve put you in more and more danger and I was careless.” His thumbs brushed your skin. He swallowed painfully, eyebrows creasing as he desperately searched for the right words. “I know I told you that staying away from the gym was enough, but it’s far too late for that now.” Hesitance chased the path of his eyes as he looked back at yours, “Your life has been put at risk because of me and I—” He ripped his head to the side, pressing his lips together.
He slid his hands across your shoulders and up your neck, before cupping your cheeks — entirely intimate, barely if at all platonic — and holding your gaze all the same. There was no room for argument in his words. The hot press of fear crawled up the back of your neck: everpresent, ever-unwelcome.
“Y/N, I love you more than I could ever express. Which is why I refuse to put you in danger any longer.” His voice was gruff and his eyes shone glossy. “Please don’t misunderstand me when I tell you that I would give everything just to have you… but I can’t — I won’t — be the reason that someone hurts you.”
You shook your head and swallowed, eyes stinging and filling with bitter tears, “So what does that mean? What are you saying?” His eyebrows furrowed deeper at the way your voice restrained the emotion bursting within your heart. A biohazardous concoction of emotions: fear, sadness, frustration, disappointment, embarrassment, longing, dread, love. All in a vile poison seeping through your veins.
Jungwon licked his drying lips, “I’m saying this is it for us. Being around me puts you in too much danger. I’m not willing to risk your life just because I love you.” His voice faltered at the end of his sentence.
“But that’s not your choice to make, Jungwon!” Your voice was brittle and you tried to ignore how comforting his hands felt as he swiped your tears away. “You don’t get to decide whether I can stop being around you or not.”
“This is the only way to protect you. This is the only solution. There’s no other choice.”
He chewed slightly on his bottom lip. Your lips shivered as you tried to form words but your voice had been robbed from you. There was everything to say and no way to put it — not in a way that Jungwon would ever agree with. He cared for you too dearly to stand idle in the face of what could hurt you. Even if the thing that could hurt you is himself.
Jungwon’s dark eyes dragged from your equally intensive gaze, down your tear stained cheeks, and landed on your quivering lips. He stared at them with the utmost of longing, as if he was grieving something within reach that was never to be had. Your eyes followed suit.
Breaths mixed with essays of unspoken words amid love confession tainted with dreadful farewells. You almost despised how easy it was for him to cause butterflies to invade your stomach despite the ever-growing pit.
He was utterly selfish. At least that’s what he told himself as he closed the distance between the two of you. Stopping only centimeters away from your face.
“God, I love you more than you will ever know.” He whispered, waiting for a rebuttal or a rejection. The silence encouraged his eyes to close and his lips to brush yours like a feather. Like you were delicate. Like he wasn’t allowing himself to commit.
He heaved a breath onto your lips and pressed your foreheads together. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t see the tears flowing from your eyes or the way your face contorted as you spoke.
“You’re saying that you’re leaving me because you love me…” You paused to renew your fading voice, “If that’s true then… I really wish you loved me less.”
Your vision took in the way his screwed shut — big tears dropping from the sides of his pretty eyes. And as if he couldn’t endure the sight of your grief caused at his hand, he moved his lips up to your forehead and pressed a soft kiss.
Then he ripped his hands from you as if he knew that if he kept holding onto you, he would never let you go.
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“Okay,” You breathed out and set down the iced vanilla latte on the table, “I’m really glad you agreed to come see me.” You slid into the seat across from your guest. He looked much different in the lighting of the cafe — not necessarily because of the lighting but because he forwent the boxing shorts and compression shirts.
“Yeah, no problem.” He gave you a small smile, “And thanks for the free latte.”
“Of course! It’s the least I could do to repay this favor.” He nodded and took a sip of the latte, “Also technically, I got it for free too, since I work here.”
At his nod, you felt maybe you had invalidated his gratefulness at your gesture. You frowned slightly and pulled out your notebook and pen before you began to speak.
“Alright, so, like I said on the phone, I had a few questions about the whole uh… gym thing,” You introduced, “And I was wondering if you’d be able to give me some answers.”
“Yeah, I actually had a question about that.” He continued at your nod, “Why don’t you just ask Jungwon?”
It was incredibly difficult to ignore the way your heart ached at the sound of his name, “Oh, you know him. He doesn’t like to talk about it.” After a sip of your own drink, you asked your first question. “So, let’s start with the basics: how does the betting system actually work?”
Heeseung sighed as he gathered his thoughts, “Well, I’ve never actually placed a bet there but I know the basic procedure. You first draw cash from the ATM.” He paused, considering what he just said, before adding to it, “All bets must be paid in cash because they want the littlest paper or digital trail possible. After they draw the money, they check the scoreboard and the percentage chance of winning that each fighter has in their respective matches. After they decide who to vote for, they bring their bets to the front desks, fill out a piece of paper with their betting information, and give it to the attendants.”
You nodded. Everything that he informed you of was what you had already seen when you were last there. You saw the ATMs, you saw the scoreboard, you saw the three attendants at their desks handing slips of betting information. Since he wasn’t offering information beyond that, you had to pry it out yourself.
“So, what happens to the betting money and how do people get paid?”
Heeseung didn’t miss a beat, “The attendants collect the money into pools: one for each fighter. The pools’ amount is based on the amount collected from those voting for them. The pool of whoever wins the fight, keeps its money and adds on the pool from the loser. The money is then distributed from the joined pool but it's all based on percentages.”
Both yours and Heeseung’s attention was drawn at the booming voice from behind the counter. Your heart dropped to the floor as your coworker called some customer’s name to pick up their drink. It was unfortunate that the name “Jungyeon” sounded a bit too much like “Jungwon”. You shook your head to rid your body of the sudden adrenaline and to regain focus. “Uh… wait I’m confused, what do you mean?” You asked him to clarify.
Heeseung sighed, “You should really just get Jungwon to tell you, he’s a business major and knows how to talk about money in a way that’s more… understandable.”
“No, no,” You waved your hands, “You’re doing just fine! Maybe just an example would help me understand it more!”
He took a moment to consider before nodding his head, “Alright, let’s say Jungwon and I are in a match together. The odds of me winning are higher than Jungwon by a sixty-eight percent to thirty-two percent split… don’t look at me like that.”
You dropped your raised brow and stifled a laugh, “Sorry, continue.”
“More people are willing to bet on me than Jungwon because I’m more likely to win. However their payout is smaller. For example, if you were to bet fifteen-thousand on me then you’d only receive eighteen-thousand if I won. But if you put fifteen-thousand on Jungwon then you’d get twenty-two-thousand if he won, because he had worse odds.”
“Oh,” You dragged the sound out, “Okay, I get it. The reward you get from betting is bigger when you bet on the underdog because it's more risky!”
“Yeah, exactly. But that’s just one layer of many. The next thing you have to understand is what happens to the money after one of us wins. If my betting pool is one-million and Jungwon’s is five-hundred-thousand, the pool of the loser is allocated to the pool of the winner. Meaning, if I won, then that five-hundred-thousand from Jungwon’s pool would be allocated to mine.”
“Got it. The winner gets all the money.”
“Well, not really.” He sighed and took a sip of his drink, his furrowed brows a clear sign of his deliberation in how to explain, “That one-point-five-million would then be distributed among the betters and to the syndicate of the champion. The syndicate always places a bet on their fighter, so if their fighter wins then they receive their payout. But normal betters also receive theirs.”
“Wait, so the winner of the fight doesn’t get any money?”
“Uh…” He thought for a moment, looking off to the other side of the cafe and then back toward you, “I’m not sure how other syndicates do it but in BE:LIFT, they give a set price per match. At the level Jungwon and I fight at, we receive seven-million per win. Jungwon, I believe, has his winnings deposited directly toward his tuition but I have mine deposited to my bank account.”
You nodded, scribbling down a note that was just out of Heeseung’s view, “Alright so just to recap: the more the odds are in favor of a person, the less the payout will be if you bet on that fighter and both pools of bets are collected to be distributed to the betters of the champion?”
“Correct.”
“Okay, great.” You furrowed your brows and began bouncing your leg. You were unsure how Heeseung would take the next topic and if he’d refuse to answer. You needed to broach the subject very carefully in order to get the information you wanted.
Where Jungwon was a guy that struggled to beat around the bush, you could do it all day long. Jungwon was direct, straightforward, and blunt to a fault, but you could play between the lines, skid along the edge, and walk gracefully across eggshells — getting the answer you wanted without having the person know that they’d given it to you.
“Actually, Heeseung, I was wondering,” You took a sip of your drink to feign nonchalance, “Jungwon mentioned that anything goes in the ring but how does that pertain to sabotage?”
Heeseung sat back in his seat, visually and literally taken aback, “Wow, um… I guess, sabotage isn’t really allowed. I mean, Jungwon is really the first person that I’ve seen get sabotaged but even then, I only know he gets sabotaged because I’m his friend. I don’t think others know.”
“Okay…” Your heart began to speed up a little at the prospect of having to prod for more information, “But I thought the sabotage had been going on for a while? You’re saying that no one but you, Jungwon, and the other five have noticed?”
The man chewed slightly on the straw of his drink, “I guess it has been a while hasn’t it? Jungwon doesn’t like to talk about it much.” He took a breath before continuing, “The sabotage that they put Jungwon through has been pretty undercover. Not only how they pull it off but the actual things themselves. Like, one time they stole Jungwon’s mouthguard, which meant the whole game he had to be extra careful not to get hit in the face. Which slows you down more than you’d realize.”
“Yeah, I bet…” You frowned. You’d seen Jungwon get hit in the face more times than you liked, but you never realized how much worse it could have been if he didn’t have something as simple as a mouthguard.
Snapshots of Jungwon flashed through your mind: one where leaned against the bars of the boxing ring, skin glistening with sweat, and his eyes glancing toward the crowd; one where he sat in your living room, face petrified with fear, and his voice tense in worry; another where his body convulsed, his feet scrambled to purchase solid ground, and his hands clawing desperately at another man's arm around his neck; another where he brings his lips so close to yours they barely brush, and you know he wants more, you know you want more, but he rips his hands away and calls it noble, even as he leaves with two bloodied hearts in his wake.
You pressed your eyes together to rid yourself of the thoughts — the memories — and instead bring your attention to the task at hand.
You knew what you wanted to ask — you’d been wanting to ask it since Jungwon told you that the people who could have sabotaged him on the night you were there were the nine people in his corner. You figured that it wasn’t the other six fighters because they had no reason to sabotage Jungwon who was, not only their friend, but also not their opponent. Fighters from the syndicates did not fight each other. Therefore, the only other suspects are the managers and the coach. Who almost equally didn’t have a reason to sabotage Jungwon.
You tread carefully with your next question, “Aren’t the managers or the coach supposed to make sure that you guys have all the things you need to fight, though?”
“Yeah, and they usually do.” Heeseung sighed, “I don’t know, maybe… no, that can’t be it.”
“What?”
“Well, our managers are relatively new.” He shrugged, “One of them was hired four months ago and the other was hired maybe two weeks later? I was gonna say that it might be that they forgot to make sure he had his mouthguard because they were new. But they had been working for about two months at the time of this incident.”
You nodded, the scratch of your pen against paper drowning in the sound of the collective chatter in the cafe. “Is anyone figuring it out?” You asked next, your eyes glancing at him while you continued to write, “Shouldn’t the coach or someone do something about this ongoing sabotage?”
Heeseung scratched his forehead, “He really should be but… I’m not sure if he is.” Heesueng tapped his fingers rhythmically on the surface of the table, “I think he mentioned it to Kim Taeho once but nothing has happened to stop it.”
“Who’s Kim Taeho?”
“The big boss…” He said with his eyes pointed, “The man at the top.”
“Right, so shouldn’t he want Jungwon to win all of his fights? Isn’t he forced to bet on all his fighters? Why hasn’t he done anything to stop this?”
“I’m not sure,” His face was downcast, “And yeah, he is forced to bet for all his fighters. It's a rule all the syndicates have. Even if the odds aren’t in their favor at all, they still have to put an equal wager on their fighter.”
“An equal wager to the other syndic—”
“Y/N.” A voice next to you spoke flatly. You turned to see your manager's unamused face, “Your shift started ten minutes ago.”
Both you and Heeseung stared at her like deers in headlights.
“Oh.”
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You had officially met all the prerequisites to be instated in a mental asylum. On the blank part of your wall, next to your window and parallel to your bed, you had sticky notes and thin red washi-tape to mimic those detective boards in all the movies. Among an array of sticky notes were three that were all in a row, they read: The Coach, Manager 1, and Manager 2. Both managers had been crossed out leaving just the coach, you had asked Heeseung for the coach’s name before you had left for your shift. His name, in fine print on the sticky note, was Park Hyun.
Your conversation with Heeseung had turned out to be more fruitful than you had ever anticipated it to be. You were able to remove the two managers from your small list of suspects based on two conversations you had: one with Jungwon and one with Heeseung. From your conversation with Jungwon, a few weeks ago, you had learnt that the sabotage had been happening for the better part of a year. In your conversation with Heeseung, you had learnt that the managers had only been working there for about four months — making it impossible for them to have been pulling off the sabotage. This left only one suspect: the coach.
The next thing to do was to answer why the coach was sabotaging his own fighter. Though the answer was obvious, right? You would only sabotage someone if you were betting for the other side. The coach must be sabotaging Jungwon to ensure that he loses in order to win his bets every time, instead of helping him become an unbeatable opponent. Therefore, the only thing you had left to do was prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the coach was sabotaging Jungwon because he was betting against him. Once you did that, you could send off your evidence to this Kim Taeho guy and get Jungwon fair chances to dig himself out of his own grave.
The only issue was: how were you going to prove the coach was sabotaging and betting against Jungwon? And how would you get the leader of a crime syndicate to look or care about the evidence — if you could even get his contact information in the first place. You ripped your gaze from the mess of sticky notes and red washi-tape, pacing around your room, and fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.
Your eyes glanced at the phone tossed haphazardly on your bed. A slightly worn polaroid of you and Jungwon, with big smiles and frosting smeared over your faces at Jungwon’s birthday last year, laid sandwiched between your phone and its clear case. Your eyes stung at the sight and a panging pain entered your wounded heart. You hadn’t spoken to him in days and you had discovered that the absence of his words hurt more than his goodbye ever did.
Under normal circumstances, you could have asked Jungwon for help and he would’ve been at your side before you could even finish the ask. Because that was Jungwon. He stole your bottle straight from your hands, wordlessly, to help you open the cap. He walked into your apartment like he owned it and he took care of it like he lived there. Dinners where he’d do all your dishes, not just the ones he dirtied. Without asking, he’d take your trash out, giving you a small smile when he’d come back to find the bag already replaced. Like teamwork came just as naturally to the two of you as acts of service came to him.
You wondered whether he’d even pick up if you called. This was Jungwon, he’d always pick up as soon as he saw the flash of your face and name light up his screen. Then again, this was Jungwon, who would do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe, even if it cost him everything.
Taking a deep breath, you opted for the next best solution to get the evidence you needed. Coming to terms with the fact that if Jungwon ever found out, he would blow a fuse. But the mission was to not be caught, anyway.
At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as you stepped off the bus and walked the two blocks to the parking lot of the HYBE gym. Cap securely over the wig that you had purchased just a few days before; glasses pushed up over your eyes and mask pulled over your nose. You’d seen many girls wearing the same set of leggings and a tight fit jacket in their gym vlogs, taking inspiration, you had purchased them as well.
The gym was in a weird limbo between busy and empty. At five on a Wednesday morning, only the true early birds and unfortunate employees were gracing the walls with their presence. And you, of course, as you deliberately chose to come in right as the doors opened, when the sleep deprived teenage employees would be too busy fighting to stay awake than pay attention to whoever was walking through the doors.
You entered as the employee turned around in his chair and headed toward the women’s locker room. Thankfully, you traversed the labyrinth of gym machines without being stopped and walked into the locker room uninterrupted. The room was a ghost town, silent except for the rapid beating of your heart. This being the second time you’d done this, you opened the secret shower door with ease and shut it softly behind you. Your steps against the stairs were feather-light, ensuring that if anyone was in the basement, they wouldn’t be notified of your presence.
The basement looked completely different than it did on Friday nights. The lights were off, albeit for a few that stayed lit no matter what per safety policies. You stopped on the end of the staircase, listening for any sounds of life, searching for any movement. Upon finding none, you moved lightly and quickly toward the stairs that run down the bleachers. Only two steps in and you realized that the bleachers squeak as you move. You ducked down, hiding in case someone were around, before slowly crawling to the edge of the bleachers. Grabbing a hold of the railing, you climbed down the support beams at the back and landed softly on the concrete ground below. Flushed between the wall and the bleachers, you slid through the small alleyway and made your way toward the reception desks. Glancing all the while, conscious of the danger with the hairs on your arm standing up and the erratic thumping in your ribcage.
As you rounded the desk to sit before the computer screen, you realized that the brightness of the screen would attract too much attention — as well as any sounds. The need for the password was also prevalent in your mind. You made quick work of your black jacket, covering the monitor with it after you pressed the mute button on the keyboard. The screen was dulled by the jacket before you got the brightness to turn down completely.
Remembering the password problem, you put to use the hours of hacking practice you’d picked up solely for this moment. It was one thing practicing on your own laptop when if all went wrong, you knew the password. Even though you’d hacked into your own computer at least seven times and had watched a plethora of different hacking tutorials on YouTube for hours beforehand. There was an itching thought in your head of: what if it didn’t work.
The bright green letters against the black background did nothing to quell your anxiety but as the log in page was overridden and you were let into the HYBE USER’s desktop, you thanked the you of the past for burning her eyes out with hacking videos for days on end. If only you would let yourself do this to fix your grades over the past few weeks.
Your eyes scanned quickly over the desk top when you spotted a flash of light out of your peripheral. Light in a concentrated beam that could only be a flashlight. Faintly, you could hear footsteps from the flashlight’s owner — far enough to be distant, close enough to compromise you — and that flew you into faster action. You pulled the thumb drive from your pocket and quietly shoved it into the monitor's USB port. You clicked on an Excel sheet titled “POBs 2026” and saw a list of names and numbers. Downloading the file to the thumb drive, you glanced for any other documents that might have been worthy of your attention. Conscious of the ever-growing footsteps.
“Huegh!”
Your head whipped toward the sound.
“Heugh, Heugh!”
Your eyes took in the beam of light and sudden movements, as if the hand that held it was sending jabs. With a closer ear, you listen to the sounds of his footsteps amid the array of “heughs” he was heaving. The sound of his shoes on the ground was not indicative of hard concrete but something lighter. Something that only the boxing ring would have been able to produce.
Thankful for the extra time, you pulled the thumb drive out.
“Man what are you doing?” Another voice rang out in the basement.
“Oh c’mon,” The heugh guy responded, “We got nothing to do and there's a boxing ring in the middle of the room.”
You clicked the “log out” button on the computer and turned the monitor off as the men conversed. Carefully sliding out of the seat since the speaking had ceased, you were waiting and listening for any clue of what the men were to do next. Then the fan in computer began to whir.
“What’s that?”
“It’s coming from over there.”
As swiftly as you could, you ducked under the desk and tucked your body as small as possible. You heard their footsteps approach amid the whirring of the fan and the steady beams of the flashlights. Your lungs begged for you to breathe and the back of your neck began to overheat.
“Oh, y’know what?” One of the men let his arm fall to his side, “It’s probably just the computers.”
“Have they ever done that before?”
“Uh… yeah, I’m sure they have.” Said the one and you were sure that he had some Know It All complex.
“Alright then,” The sound of a hand hitting a person’s back emitted from behind the desk, “What do you say we have a little spar in the ring, huh?”
The other man made a sound of indecision, “Ah, sure, why not?”
You waited until they invaded the ring and the sounds of their fists knocking into the other’s palms filled the room before you evacuated. Out from under the desk, carefully stepping under the row of bleachers and heading for the opposite end of the locker room entrance. You took measured steps until you got close to the door and gathered all your bravery.
Only twenty feet to your left was the ring, and eight feet in front of you was the door to the back hallways where you had argued with Jungwon after his match. You had the cover of darkness on your side and the attention drawn away from you — you just had to commit. You’d come so far already. But the heat at the back of your neck, sweat on your brow, and chill in your bones had you rethinking.
What would happen if you got caught? Your need for adventure, need for a story, need for a mystery, is what got you in this situation in the first place. But now, you’re face to face with circumstances that you’re not fully certain of the consequences for.
What if they caught you down here? What if they found the flash drive in the pocket of your black leggings? These aren’t mall cops, these are people who are hired by South Korean crime syndicates whether they know it or not. Would they drag you to their bosses? Would they take their anger out on you? Would they pull off your disguise and recognize your face and punish Jungwon for your trespassing and burglary?
What would Jungwon say if he found out? Was this exactly what he was afraid of? That you’d do something stupid and reckless and get yourself killed?
You shook your head. Barely registering the “coaching” that the one man was giving his other but fully aware that it sounded like the blind leading the blind. You took a deep, steady breath and then peeked toward the ring. With their attention diverted you moved quickly — not enough to be running — and quietly toward the door, pulling it open and entering a pitch black hallway.
You attempted to create a map in your mind of what the hallway had looked like when you had walked through it last. The edges of your memory recalled the turns, just barely. Whether to take a right or a left, how many doors you’d pass before the next turn. Though all your mind could focus on was the after. When you reached the black doors at the end of the hallway and pulled them open. The doors to this basement kept an illegal fight club and an even more illegal betting operation from the eyes of the general public. Which means, the doors most likely have an alarm system. You have no clearance, no alibi, no voucher, just a full disguise and pair of sneakers you hoped would take you all the way to the bus stop a couple blocks off.
With a deep breath and a starting pace, you push the back doors open and ran out at your fullest speed. The wind rushing through the air almost covered the sound of the alarm system you set off but there was nothing that would distract you. Nothing to make you turn back or slow you down. You sped past passersby on the sidewalk and watched the bus approach the stop. Boarding the bus, you swiped the bus-card you had just purchased that morning in cash and sat down next to an old man.
The doors to the bus shut, having welcomed only normal civilians, but you were too smart — or paranoid — to end the chase there. The syndicates had money and the city had CCTV everywhere. You needed to get lost in it. Which is why you pushed into the 6am train station in Seoul, and got off in Cheongju. Took a bus to a different entrance to the station at Cheongju and boarded during the 7:30am rush toward Daejeon. From Daejon you walked into a department store, paid and changed outfits, then walked to the train station again. From Daejon all the way to Daegu. Waiting and pretending to shop in a mall near the train station. Then you boarded toward Busan, changed outfits again in the back of a store in the streetmarket, before boarding the two-and-a-half hour train from Busan to Seoul during the work commute rush.
You pushed your apartment door open as the time rounded to 9pm. Kicking off your shoes and shrugging off your new jacket. You pulled the thumb drive from your pocket — the only thing that you had kept since that morning, besides the straight black wig that you’d been wearing all day. Double checking that your door was locked and your windows were shut, you walked into your room where your laptop and phone had sat all day. Naively, you checked your phone for messages from Jungwon. Heart crushing when you scrolled through all your notifications to find nothing from Jungwon. Just the same message you’d received the day he walked out.
wonie: I’m otw so make sure you have that green tea
You: can you just focus on not crashing your car please?
wonie: Lmao
A sorrowful smile rose onto your lips before tears sprung in your eyes.
All you wanted was for him to be free from his never ending cycle of exploitation.
All he wanted was to keep you away from his mess in order to keep you safe.
It felt like neither of you were getting what you wanted.
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You shoved the thumb drive into your laptop out of necessity — a need to make all the work you did feel like it was worth it — rather than an actual desire to see what was on that excel sheet. You risked your safety more than you ever had for some document that you hoped would provide you with incriminating evidence but really, you had no idea.
The file popped up on your desktop and with a double-click, the entire year’s receipts for the betting opened before your eyes. The columns held all the necessary information: the bettor’s name; the time they placed the bet, the odds of the fighters at the time the bet was placed, the name of the fighter they chose to bet on, their bet amount, their calculated pay out, their bank account number, and their contact information. All the information one would need to calculate and distribute the winnings of their bet.
You scrolled through the list — taking it all in — before your focus zeroed in. Hitting control F, you searched Park Hyun’s name and found 27 matching results. 27 bets placed under Jungwon’s coach’s name and not a single one was placed in favor of Jungwon’s victory. He had voted against Jungwon every single time.
Despite the odds — wait, no, the odds were split.
Your brows furrowed as you took in the percentages of the bets. Every bet he placed was when the odds evened out: 50-50, 49-51, 52-48, 51-48, 47-53, 55-45, 46-54. Every bet fell within even odds. From experience, you knew that Jungwon’s fights always started at 9pm. But all of these bets were made at various times. 9:13pm, 9:21pm, 9:09pm, 9:17pm, no consistency other than that the best were placed after the fights had started.
You recalled what Heeseung had told you in the cafe. The more even the odds are, the more pay that you get. But the odds aren't always even when the fighting starts. The odds of Jungwon winning in his fight against Tyun were well in his favor: 57.02%. Yet, looking at the document now, the coach had placed his bet halfway through the fight, likely after a timeout was called after the chokehold. The odds had fallen from 57.02% to 49.89% and it was at this moment that the coach had placed the bet. When the odds had evened out in his favor.
Though, it didn’t seem like he thought Tyun would pull that chokehold move because after he did, the odds had evened out and the sabotage hadn’t occurred yet. After Jungwon had drank the everclear, his odds had plummeted to 36% and the payout was a fraction of what it was when the odds were split. The coach must have realized how badly the odds would fall and placed his bet just before Jungwon had drank from his bottle.
It was strange. It was almost unbelievable that a man who was supposed to support and help Jungwon had been the one orchestrating his downfall the entire time. Your cursor hovered over the exit button of the excel sheet, having seen enough and wanting to rest from the eventful day. But a name kept scratching in the back of your mind like nails on a chalkboard: Kim Taeho. The syndicate boss who should have been voting in favor of Jungwon the whole time. Had he been? Or was he just like the coach?
Kim Taeho’s name appeared dozens more times than the coach’s. He had seven male fighters and five female fighters and all of which — you checked thoroughly — he had been voting in favor of. Even down to the last fight.
Kim Taeho | 21:00 | JAKAH 37.33% vs SOOBIN 63.66% | SOOBIN | $1000 | $148 | Midnight Bank 20180917 | *********@gmail.com
At 21:00 sharp, every fight, he placed his bet in favor of Jungwon — regardless of the odds. You nodded your head as if you’d made up your mind. You would send Kim Taeho all the fights that the coach voted against Jungwon in. You’d note that there was foul play involved and that he should check the integrity of his staff. And maybe, if you were lucky, he’d fire the coach and Jungwon would have a fair chance at crawling out of his debt. And maybe, if you were extremely lucky, he’d find his way back to you after he was safe again.
With the motivation electrifying through your veins, you began to highlight the cells of Park Hyun’s voting information:
Park Hyun | 21:01 | JAKAH 78.12% vs BAMKYU 22.98% | BAMKYU | $1000 | $2340 | Midnight Bank 20180917 | *************@gmail.com
Park Hyun | 21:13 | JAKAH 53.01% vs JO 47.99% | JO | $1000 | $1780 | Midnight Bank 20180917 | *************@gmail.com
Park Hyun | 21:27 | JAKAH 57.02% vs TYUN 43.98% | TYUN | $1000 | $1570 | Midnight Bank 20180917 | *************@gmail.com
Park Hyun | 21:18 | JAKAH 48.00% vs SOOBIN 52.00% | SOOBIN | $100 | $148 | Midnight Bank 20180917 | *************@gmail.com
As you highlighted the last four rows, you recalled the events for each of these fights — except for the most recent one with a fighter named Soobin, which Jungwon had told you nothing about — and each of their respective sabotages. In the fight against a guy named Bamkyu, Jungwon’s water bottle had been filled with laxatives, which caused him to run from the fight even though the odds were fully in his favor. In his fight with Jo, he was given vinegar in place of the water, which caused him to fight more brutally in order to prevent over-dehydration. His fight against Tyun seemed to go off the rails. The everclear would have pushed the odds to even out, but the coach had not anticipated Tyun’s own intellect to even out the stakes all by himself. The everclear pushed the odds to fall too far into the margins of Tyun’s success which capped the amount of the payout.
You brows furrowed as you cross referenced the starting odds with the odds of when the coach placed his bets. The day the laxatives were used, Jungwon had over 70% chance of winning. The day the vinegar was used, he had a 59% chance of winning. The fight against Tyun had him at a 63% chance of winning. And the most recent fight, which you knew nothing of other than that he came home relatively unscathed, had placed his odds at 37%. The split between the odds and severity of the sabotage was a pattern too loud to miss.
The more the odds were in favor of Jungwon, the harsher the sabotage became. This realization left a bitter tongue and a deep ache in your heart. Involuntarily, you imagined Jungwon checking the scoreboard and noting his favor in odds. Had he found peace in that? Had he found comfort in the prospect of his probable victory? Or had it put him on edge? Had it brought his guard up at the expectation of a harsh attack coming from one of his blind spots?
Just as you were about to save the document, your eyes caught on the number that falls at the very end of the columns: Midnight Bank 20180917. The coach’s bank account number.
With shaky fingers, you scrolled up to the nearest row with Kim Taeho’s name, scanning past the information to reach the final column and reading it off in the silence of your held breath and still heart. Midnight Bank 20180917.
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The air in the room felt sticky. Too warm, too stuffy, as it clung to every millimeter of skin. The crowd was too talkative. Too joyous, too carefree, as they swirled their lavishly bartended drinks. The sight was too tense. Too terrifying, too uncanny, as he wrapped his fists in white bandages and bit down in the black mouthguard.
Like a familiar friend, that anxious heat crawled its way onto the back of your neck — resting there. Your breath was entirely uneven despite the deep inhales and long exhales you’d been doing to train it back to consistency. Your leg bounced uncontrollably and you were certain one of the bettors would say something in just a moment, but their thoughts and their preferences were the least of your concerns. Not when Jungwon stood with his shoulders tensed, his jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed on his all-too-familiar foe.
Your phone buzzed and you drew your attention to it at lightning speed. An email was left with no subject line, just PDF and a caption: For your sake, I hope he wins. With shaky fingers, you tapped the screen and the PDF came into full view. A contract.
A contract that put everything on the line.
Since the night that you had reviewed the Excel sheet, you’d taken risks that not only would have sent Jungwon into a coma but also could have gotten you killed. After a couple nights of rest and planning. You had opened your laptop once again, clicking open the Decelis University website and typing in Jungwon’s username and password instead of yours. Because of course, you knew his log in.
You’d used it before to submit his assignments when he couldn’t or when he needed to check his grades. You’d never used it to check his financial statements.That was always private — too private — a boundary you couldn’t overstep. Somehow, that boundary seemed like nothing when it came in the way of securing a better future for him.
You scrolled and opened the PDF of his statements. Monthly payments toward the total of Jungwon’s tuition, room and board, downpayments, parking passes, and a section called “allowance” which gets filtered straight to Jungwon’s bank account. The receipt of these payments noted the bank of the payer to be: Midnight Bank ****0917, corresponding with the bank account both Kim Taeho and Park Hyun were filtering their winnings to. The contact information for the payer was noted to be Kim Taeho himself. You scrolled to the end of the receipt to see the fine print which read: All payments are final. No refunds are allowed.
With these words, you set your plan into action.
Immediately, you purchased a subscription to the strongest VPN on the market and created a burner email address. You bussed to the busiest public library in Seoul and drafted a very carefully worded email along with an attachment to the Excel sheet. The Excel sheet being highlighted with the necessary and incriminating information.
To whom it may concern,
Attached in the file below are the betting records of the 2026 year so far. As noted by the highlighting, Kim Taeho has been betting in favor of his fighter JAKAH and sending his winnings to a bank account number 20180917 at Midnight Bank. JAKAH’s coach and employee of Kim Taeho, Park Hyun, has been betting against JAKAH, his own fighter, and yet sending it to the same bank account: Midnight Bank 20180917.
Upon further research, the bank account was found to be in Kim Taeho’s name. Is this not grounds for double betting? I’m certain that this kind of fraud would not be tolerated among the syndicates gathered that make events like these possible. Should they find out, would your syndicate not face immense repercussions for this fraud?
I have no interest in exposing you to the people you work with nor am I interested in extorting you for money. What I want, in exchange for the hard drive of this information and the access to this email account to prevent the scheduled emails to every contact on this Excel sheet from being sent, is the complete forgiveness of JAKAH (Yang Jungwon)’s debt.
The emails are scheduled to be sent on Friday at 23:59. If I do not have confirmation that JAKAH (Yang Jungwon) has been forgiven of any debt that he has with you and is released from any obligation he has with you by 23:59, the emails will be sent. If I have confirmation before then that my requests have been fulfilled in good faith with evidence to prove it, then I will send an email with the log in, in order for you to manually close the emails yourself. I will also ship the hard drive to the front office of the HYBE gym.
Thank you for your understanding.
You left no signature. Just the attachment of the spreadsheet and a quick glance at your VPN which changed your location every three seconds. South Korea one moment, Brazil the next, then onto Turkey, before heading to Milawe. You hit send on the email and walked out of the library toward the busiest tourist street in the city.
You weren’t expecting a response within the first 72 hours. Which kept you running the VPN all hours of the day. You had known they’d consider your threat a bluff, then they’d realize that you had everything you needed in order to out them. Then they’d devise a plan. You had known some sort of trickery was coming, you just hadn’t known what.
As the days ticked by, a consistent anxiety welcomed itself into your heart. You hadn’t emailed back, dedicated to keeping communication as minimal as possible. When you woke up that Friday morning with no response, you prepared yourself to cut your losses. Once you send the emails and expose Belift, things might get more complicated for Jungwon, or everything would fizzle out. You’d assess the damage and move onto plan B.
Until then, you kept hope in your heart. Even as you entered the gym with your new gym membership, under a different name and paid in cash, thanks to the new increased security. You slipped into the locker room and down the stairs just before the 21:00 match started. Emboldened by the leverage you had over Belift, you had taken a seat right in the front — looking straight ahead to the reason you had even started doing this in the first place. Yang Jungwon.
It was in this ante period that you received the response email from Belift. And the PDF which sent a chill to the marrow of your bones. You knew the trick was coming. You just didn’t know that it’d threaten everything you’d worked for.
The PDF was a photocopy of a contract that had recently been drawn and signed. A contract that stated:
As decided by the executives of Belift Lab, the debt of Yang Jungwon will be wholly and completely forgiven should he win his next upcoming fight. As per Yang Jungwon’s request, upon his victory, Belift Lab or any of its affiliates will never attempt to contact or engage with Yang Jungwon and his loved ones.
Alternatively, in the case of Yang Jungwon’s defeat, he will carry on as a fighter of Belift Lab to eliminate his debt through his labor. Upon his defeat, Jungwon shall be legally required to pay off any accumulated debt to Belift Lab regardless of circumstances.
Jungwon was now contractually bound to his freedom or his exploitation. If he won the fight, you would send Belift your evidence and Jungwon would be forgiven of his debt. If he lost, you would still have to send your evidence, but Jungwon would be legally obligated to pay off his debt.
The loud buzzer swept over the makeshift arena.
“Welcome back to another round in the men’s fifth bracket!” The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, “Listen Dino, I don’t know about you but I have been anticipating this fight all night.”
“Me too, S.Coups. I’m sure the audience is well aware but these two fighters have recently butt heads which ended in a brutal victory.” The crowd uproared, “Yes, that’s right folks. Welcome to the rematch between Jakah of Belift and BigHit’s Tyun.”
Suddenly, Jungwon’s abnormally tensed shoulders made sense. Your breath was stolen straight from your lungs and the entire room fell into white noise. Jungwon began to switch his weight between his feet — lightening his step — though it seemed that his legs were stiffer than they’d ever been before. The image of his face turning purple-ish red as he clawed as the arm preventing him from breathing was seared into your mind. And you were only a bystander. You couldn’t imagine the way Jungwon must have felt as his mind begged his body to forget what happened last time and to focus on not repeating history.
“And Jakah takes the offensive!”
Jungwon lunged at Tyun, aiming a clean strike to the ribs. Tyun twisted out of the way but not fast enough for the speed that Jungwon was going. His first two knuckles clipped Tyun’s side, causing Jungwon to shift his feet closer and send another strike to the man’s face. Tyun’s bandaged hands blocked the strike and he jumped away from Jungwon.
“Man, it seems like Jakah has a bit of pent up rage… I haven’t seen him this aggressive in a fight for a while.”
Your eyes chanced a glance toward Jungwon’s corner where the coach and managers stood waiting in bated breath. Jay and Heeseung stood there as well, Jay’s arms wrapped around the water bottle you’d gifted Jungwon, as if he was guarding it with his life.
By the time you looked back over, Jungwon and Tyun had given up on dancing around each other and the latter was sending a barrage of feints with occasional strikes. Jungwon’s forearms were getting battered but he kept his guard up. He stayed like that for a while before he caught one of Tyun’s arms, pulled it, and twisted it behind the man’s back before shoving him face first onto the floor of the ring.
“Ohhh, ouch!”
“Man, that has got to hurt!”
The crowd echoed the announcers in various synonymous sentiments as the buzzer announced the end of the first round. Jungwon released his hold on his opponent and walked over to his corner, beckoning Jay for his water bottle and taking a test sip before chugging it. With your eyes tunneled onto him — the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the imprint of his hard abs on his white tank — you could barely hear the announcers informing the crowd of Jungwon’s increase in odds.
Before you could fully register it, the match began again. Shifting feet and tiny grunts was all that filled the room as passed strikes between each other. Jungwon pursued Tyun to the edge of the ring, his opponent’s feet only a meter away from the rails before suddenly, he pushed himself back onto the rail, held the bars, and pushed his feet square into Jungwon’s abdomen. Jungwon stumbled back, nearly losing his balance, and failed to block the punch that landed straight onto his nose.
“Oh, that’s definitely broken.”
“Speaking from experience, huh?”
Tyun grabbed Jungwon’s arm and threw him to his knees while he was still stunned. His hand grabbing one of his shoulders and sliding his arm across the plain of his neck. The everpresent heat on the back of your neck seemed to replicate Tyun’s actions, as if it knew this was what you had been most afraid of since the fight began.
Without warning or indication, Jungwon pulled Tyun’s left arm forward and reached back to grab ahold of the back of his right knee, standing up and bringing his opponent with him. With his feet off the ground, Tyun could do nothing to stop or brace himself as Jungwon jumped backward, sending them both to the floor, only with Tyun’s body as a cushion to break Jungwon’s fall.
“Jakah is on fire today!”
“He escaped out of that chokehold, picked Tyun up from behind, slammed him into the ground, and held him down for over five seconds, meaning: the second round is over!”
Your face had become sweaty like it was you that had been in that ring. But from the sight of Jungwon pushing his sweaty hair back and having it stay in a swept position, you assumed that he must be perspiring more than you could ever know. Of course, he would be. Everything was on the line for him. His freedom to leave the fighting and his freedom to pursue you.
Without needing to be asked, Jungwon’s manager handed him a face cloth, which he took gratefully. He shoved his face into the fabric and rubbed the sticky sweat and grime off of his skin. Your heart dropped to the craters of the Earth when Jungwon ripped the cloth away from his face and began to cough. He tossed the cloth over the rails of the ring and shook his head, placing a hand over his chest and taking deep breaths.
Before he was fully prepared, the buzzer signaled the start of the third round and Tyun sprung into action. He sent a jab that Jungwon barely dodged, causing him to stumble off to the side. Another jab, a feint, right, left, right, right, left, all blocked or dodged sloppily. Until Tyun dropped down low and sent a punch to his gut, leaving Jungwon in a fit of coughs. Another knee to his gut — his abdomen having already been targeted multiple times. Tyun’s strong hands pushed Jungwon backwards before sending three clean strikes. One to his left jaw, one under his chin, and another across his left jaw.
Jungwon fell backwards, immediately scrambling to get back up before Tyun kicked his stomach, forcing the blond to curl up into a centipede. Whatever was on that cloth had thrown Jungwon into a state of distraction that he struggled to free himself from. And as he was on the ground, trying to ignore the pounding of Tyun foot as it slammed into his back, trying to ignore the blaring “five, four, three” of the announcers, trying to ignore the burn in his lungs, he peeled his eyes open to look at the crowd. His hopeless eyes met your worried ones. As if Fate had directed your gazes to align. As if Fate had given him a guiding hand in his most crucial moment.
Memories of the last time he’d seen you crept up at the edges of his mind. Your tear-tracked face held in his hands. His lips brushing yours, careful to not press too hard that he might stay there with you in his arms forever. The sound of your voice as you pleaded him not to go in words cut open the chambers of his heart.
All it took was one small victory and everything he’s ever wanted would rest at his feet.
With renewed strength, Jungwon rolled over and out of the way of Tyun’s foot, just before the announcers made it to “one”. With the momentum and the opportunity of one of Tyun’s legs raised, Jungwon swept his feet out and knocked him to the floor. Without hesitation, Jungwon straddled the man’s waist, gripped his shirt, and swung punch after punch toward the man’s face. Every blow was blocked by expert hands.
As Jungwon drew back for another punch, Tyun grabbed his hips and attempted to twist their positions, but Jungwon was quick to slide away from getting pinned to the floor. The two exchanged blows, knocked fists, and blocked strikes, all while shuffling around each other. Jungwon increased the speed of his feet, sent a feint directly into Tyun’s line of sight, before twisting around him and leaving his view completely. As the other man turned to keep his eyes on Jungwon, the blond sent a brutal kick to the other man’s gut. With Tyun’s hands lowering to protect his abdomen, Jungwon slammed his foot into his opponent's face and sent him stumbling back. Without mercy, Jungwon shuffled his left foot toward the right and twisted his body, sending a roundhouse kick that dug into the cheekbone of the other fighter.
Tyun dropped to his knees, breath heavy and shallow, eyes closed and body tipping toward the floor. Jungwon shoved his foot in the other’s chest and held him down. The adrenaline drowned out the countdown from five.
“Five…” He couldn’t look at you.
“Four…” Not until he knew he had won.
“Three…” Until he knew you were safe.
“Two…” Until he knew he could—
“One!”
The referee raised Jungwon’s arm up and blew his whistle, sending the crowd into a frenzy. Cheering, jeering, and booing. Standing, clapping, and fist pumping. And all he saw was you. With tears in your eyes and the biggest smile he thinks he’s ever seen you wear.
And before he even knew it, he was hopping over the railing of the ring. Blood rushing and pounding in his ears as he ran toward you. You followed suit, hopping over the small guard rail and running just a few steps to where he had already gotten over to you.
His left hand found your waist and his right found your cheek and he turned the both of you to the side so that he wouldn’t crash into you at full force. Well at least with his body, for his lips were all but graceful as they crashed onto yours, his hand at your waist immediately moving to your left cheek to angle your face to fit his perfectly. He kissed hungrily and greedily like he couldn’t get enough. He didn’t stop to breathe, he just moved his lips against yours as if it was the only thing he needed to stay alive.
As soon as you brought your hands to his hard chest, he slid his hands down to hold your waist, pulling your body flush against his and never removing his lips from your own. How could he when you kissed him back with a mirroring fervor and slid your hands up to card through his hair.
Jungwon had fought for every South Korean Won he had made in the ring. Millions of won had been added to his name. But there — with you in his arms, clinging to him, and exchanging dozens of heated kisses like you were making up for lost time — that was the richest Jungwon had ever been.
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“And when someone asks for a caramel macchiato, what they’re really asking for is a caramel latte.”
His dark brows furrowed under his recently dyed brown hair, “Why wouldn’t they just ask for a caramel latte then?”
“Well, because they’re going off of the menu from Starbucks.”
His dark brown eyes held thinly veiled confusion before he nodded and leaned his hip against the counter, crossing his toned arms as the black work shirt stretched over his muscles. You glanced over to him, a different — more bashful — heat crawling up your neck as he stared at you.
“Don’t worry,” You told him, “You’ll get the hang of it soon.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure?”
“Why were there?” He narrowed his eyes, “At the fight.”
Your throat worked around a swallow, “Oh, uh I was just…”
A million reasons flashed through your mind — none of them even bordering on the truth — and it brought all of your thoughts to a halt. This entire situation: you finding out about Jungwon’s secret life, it all started from a lie. Now that you had Jungwon, you couldn’t lose him again. So you took a deep breath and began the long explanation.
“You told me that in order to keep me safe, you had to leave my life completely. And to be honest? I’d rather fear for my life everyday than say goodbye to you forever.” You eyes poured into his steady, deep, brown ones, “I talked to Heeseung, found out who was sabotaging you, broke into the Hybe gym basement to get proof—”
“I’m sorry, you what?!”
“And then, I found out that Kim Taeho was double betting and tampering with the odds by sabotaging you, in order to get an even split and make the most amount of money possible while winning every time.”
“How the he—”
“And then I essentially blackmailed him into forgiving your debt,”
He straightened, “Tell me you’re joking…”
“But don’t worry I stayed anonymous and used a VPN.”
“That doesn’t make it any better.”
“And then drew up a contract that would forgive your debt as long as you won the fight — which you did — and here we are!”
Jungwon grabbed your upper shoulders, “Y/N… Please tell me this is a joke.”
You could see the worry laced into every feature: his creased brows, his wide eyes, his downturned lips.
“Jungwon, you always talk about keeping me safe. I wanted to find a way to make sure you were safe.” You hesitated to keep going, “Even when you signed the contract, you were thinking about me. That if you won the fight and were forgiven, you requested that they stayed away from you.”
“I wouldn’t sign the contract unless that was added.” He confessed, “What good would getting rid of my debt be if they took something — someone — else from me in its place.” His hands slid to the hem of your sleeves, playing with the fabric. “And it’s the best decision I ever made because now, I’m finding out that you blackmailed a crime syndicate that most definitely has a grudge against both you and I.”
You tried not to look too horrified by the logistics of your impulsive decisions.
“And if I didn’t make them sign a contract to stay away from you,” His eyes dropped down, unable to look you in the eye, “Who would’ve gotten me an actual job to start chipping away at my tuition?”
“With or without me, you would have found a way to pay for college and keep on living a good life.” You rolled your eyes.
“‘With or without you’?” He repeated incredulously, “Without you I would still be spending Friday nights drinking laxatives, vinegar, and everclear or shoving my face into a chloroform face towel and getting my ass handed to me. Without you I’d have spent my entire life saving pennies to pay off an impossible debt.” His cat-like eyes took upon every frame of seriousness, “My life doesn’t exist without you, Y/N.”
A shy smile rose onto your lips. Because you may know Yang Jungwon inside and out as your best friend. But Yang Jungwon, your boyfriend, was still uncharted territory. Regardless of if this was the 50th time he’d pulled you in by your waist and pressed gentle, loving kisses against your lips.
“Jungwon,” You pressed against his chest, “This was the one condition my manager had!” You argued through the sweet pecks he placed in between words, “No PDA!”
He giggled before placing another kiss onto your forehead, “Fine, but once we’re off the clock, I’m never letting you go.”
His hands fell from you and the warmth he left behind lingered like a promise.
“I might need you to sign a contract for that.”
“What for?” He asked, picking up a dish to rinse off, “You’ll just blackmail me anyway.”
A sensual, intimate, and adorable scenario of showering with husband!Sunghoon. No warnings, just hot, romantic stuff. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you.
If there was one thing you loved doing with Sunghoon, it was showering. Everyone knew he was a gentleman: always opening doors for you, making sure you weren’t cold when you went out, and keeping his eyes on you to ensure you were safe and comfortable. And when you shower together, nothing changes.
Sunghoon understands you better than anyone else. He knows how you always put others before yourself, so, whenever he can, he takes it upon himself to care for you. When you shower together, he refuses to let you lift a finger. He washes your hair, using all your expensive scalp products, and gently cleans your skin for you.
Naturally, when he got a text from you saying you’d be taking a quick shower, he rushed home. Stepping into the foggy bathroom, Hoon could hear soft music playing, Cigarettes After Sex, as usual. He quickly discards his clothes and approaches the shower. He carefully slides the glass door, pausing to admire you before entering.
Your sweet voice carried softly with the music, your head tilted back under the steamy water, the droplets cascading down your body like a sculpture brought to life. To Sunghoon, you are the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, and he couldn’t be more grateful to have you.
When you turned your back to the door, he finally stepped in. His tall frame came up behind you, his lean arms wrapping around your waist like two strong snakes. You jumped slightly in surprise but quickly giggled. You love it when Sunghoon is clingy.
“You should’ve waited for me…” he murmurs into your ear, resting his face on your shoulder as the hot water pours over both of you.
Turning your head slightly to face him, you pecked his cheek. “We have to be quick, baby. I promised your mom I’d meet her at the mall by 3 p.m. We’re picking out new things for her kitchen,” you explain to your handsome boyfriend. Then, you turn your body around fully to face him.
The water has completely soaked his hair, and because he ran a hand through it, slicking it back, Sunghoon looks hotter than usual. You gaze into his eyes, captivated by the view in front of you. His pale skin was drenched and shining before your curious eyes, reflecting the diffuse light of the sun.
“Why didn’t she call me?” Your husband whines, wrapping his arms around you again, as though he wished he could be under your skin, just to be closer to you.
“I’m the one with the interior design degree…” you joke, resting your head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin against yours as the hot water cascades over both of you.
Sunghoon doesn’t respond; he simply kisses your hair and holds you close for a few minutes. The bathroom grows even steamier, the air heavy with humidity. You look up at him, enamored by his handsome features under the water: his big nose dripping water, red lips shiny with his saliva, adorable moles scattered around his body, and the depth of his brown eyes, completely drunk on love.
He gazes back at you with equal intensity, his mischievous fingers trailing along your side, sending goosebumps across your skin. It is enough to drive Sunghoon insane, feels as though you are teasing him with the way you look at him, with those adorable, pleading puppy eyes. Slowly, he leans in and captures your lips in a slow, loving kiss, his soft lips molding perfectly with yours.
Your arms wrap around his neck as your fingers weave through his black hair, gently pulling in need. His tongue teases its way into your mouth, and the kiss quickly deepens, turning hungry. The sensation of your wet, nude body pressing against his is intoxicating. You pull away breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you both catch your breath.
“Turn around so I can wash your hair,” Sunghoon says in a breathy voice, trying to regain his composure and focusing on taking care of you. His hands remain firmly on your hips as you turn around. Soon your back faces him, a sight that makes him momentarily wish his mom would forget about your plans so he could have more time with you.
Noticing he hasn’t moved, you glance back over your shoulder, only to catch him staring at your body with possessive eyes while his hands grip your waist so tight it makes your skin turn white.
“Hoon…” you call, snapping him out of his trance. A soft blush spreads across his face as he realizes he’s been caught.
“Sorry, princess. I got distracted,” he mutters in a low voice, quickly reaching for your favorite shampoo to get started.
You turn your head backward, giving him better access to your scalp. When his skilled fingers begin massaging your hair, it feels heavenly. He always has a way of being so gentle yet confident, and it makes your knees weak every time.
Sunghoon has a habit of massaging your neck while washing your hair. One hand steadying your head with fingers dug into your scalp, while the other works on your tired neck muscles. You gulp and bite your bottom lip. Today, for some reason, his touch feels even better than usual, making you momentarily regret agreeing to plans with his mom.
“All done. Let’s rinse you off,” Sunghoon announces tenderly, holding your hand as you turn around to let the water rinse your hair. As the warm stream flows over you, Sunghoon notices your quickened breaths.
“You okay there, princess?” he asks with a knowing smirk, fully aware of the effect he has on you.
You don’t answer, just nod, your eyes still closed. After rinsing your hair, he applies a bit of conditioner to your ends, gently scrunching them to enhance your waves. While the conditioner sets, he grabs your loofah, squeezing out some of your body wash before carefully lathering it.
You let him take over completely, utterly under his spell. His hands move with precision and tenderness, washing every inch of you, from your neck and arms to your chest and belly. He even kneels to wash your legs and feet with the same care. You watch him with hearts in your eyes, completely smitten by his loving attention.
When he stands again, you turn around, brushing your hair to one side to expose your back. He resumes his task, one hand holding your waist affectionately while the other traces gentle circles over your skin as he cleans you.
Sunghoon smiles when he’s finished, admiring the way your skin glistens, still covered in bubbles. He leans in to press a quick peck on your lips before turning the water back on to rinse you off. Then, he leans against the cold tiled shower wall, his malicious eyes tracing the path of the water drops as they slide down your body.
Noticing his gaze, you smile and gently take his hand, pulling him under the warm stream. You let him hug you by the waist, lightly squeezing you while he presses his wet body against your back. The two of you stay like this for a while, soaking in the moment, until your hair and body are completely rinsed clean.
“Do you want me to wash your hair too?” you ask, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. He returns your gaze with a soft smile.
“No, princess. You can go see my mom. I’ll finish faster if I do it myself,” he explains, his thumb caressing your cheek affectionately. You laugh, knowing he’s right. If you stayed, things would likely go far beyond just washing his hair.
“I love you,” you confess shyly, placing a lingering kiss on his aching lips before stepping out of the shower.
“I love you more,” Sunghoon replies sweetly, his heart swelling at the sight of your radiant smile. “I’ll be waiting for you…” he adds with a playful wink as you close the door, your laugh echoing softly in the steamy bathroom.
Author's Note: Finally posting something, hehe! I hope you guys liked this; if you did, please comment and reblog! I will have a few free days, so I will try to post more! Comment below if you want to be added to the taglist i will be making soon! Thank you so much!
synopsis✧˖°. scared of edibles but wanting to get high, you agree to take them at your dealer friend jays place where he promises to watch over you. when you start greening out with your heart racing and panic setting in, he holds you through it, talking you down until you fall asleep in his arms.
contains✧˖°. drug use (marijuana/edibles) ; greening out/anxiety/panic attack ; caretaking ; physical touch/affection as comfort ; petnames ; established friendship with romantic tension ; emotional vulnerability ; crying ; cuddling ; jay also being high but functional ; reassurance ; wc: 4.3k
notes✧˖°. this is apart of my plug!enha cronicles :)) if you saw my post the other day i had a little fun of a time and this came to me, so i decided to write it. plus i just had mango boba so im LIVINGGG. pt 2 of angels dance should be out by tmrw, im just taking my time and making sure its really nice and good!! please enjoy~
its friday night and youve been alone in your apartment since six pm, working through a bottle of cheap red wine and staring at your ceiling fan as it spins in lazy circles.
youve been thinking about calling jay for three days now, ever since you ran into him at the coffee shop near campus and mentioned in passing that you wanted to get high but couldnt stand the way smoking made your lungs feel.
youd been hoping hed offer an alternative, something easier on your body, but the conversation had shifted and you never got to ask.
now its nine pm and youre three glasses deep and the idea of going out feels both impossible and necessary.
youre antsy, restless in your own skin, wanting that particular kind of release that comes from being not quite sober.
youve smoked with friends at parties before, plenty of times actually, enough that you know your limits.
you know how to pace yourself, how to tell when youve had enough. but its always the smoke that gets you, the burn in your throat, the cough that lasts for days.
you want the feeling without the side effects.
jay has been your friend for two years, ever since a mutual friends house party where you bonded over shared music taste and his dry sense of humor.
you know he deals, have known since the beginning, but he never fit the stereotype. he keeps his inventory in a locked box in his closet. he has a spreadsheet. he is, for lack of a better word, professional about it.
despite the nature of his business, or maybe because of how seriously he takes it, youve always felt safe with him. safer than you feel with most people.
you pick up your phone and stare at his contact name. your thumb hovers. the wine makes you brave, or maybe just honest.
you change out of your leggings into sweatpants and an oversized sweater, something soft and comforting against your skin.
you leave your hair down, brush your teeth to get rid of the wine taste, and check your reflection once just to make sure you dont look like youve been crying into a bottle of red wine alone on a friday night. which you have been. but he doesnt need to know that.
when jay texts that hes outside, you grab your coat and your keys and you dont let yourself hesitate.
his car smells like him, like leather and something earthy underneath, maybe the remnants of a joint he smoked earlier. hes wearing a black hoodie, hair pushed back, looking more like a guy who works at a tech startup than someone who sells weed for a living.
"hey y/n," he says when you slide in. "you sure about this?"
"no," you admit, pulling the seatbelt across your chest. "but i want to try."
"thats fair." he pulls away from the curb, driving with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. "you eaten today?"
"yeah, like three hours ago."
"good. you need something in your stomach."
you reach out and touch his arm briefly, just a light press of your fingers against his sleeve, grounding yourself.
youve always been like this, reaching for people during conversations, leaning into shoulders during movies, needing physical contact like you need air.
jay knows this about you. hes known since the beginning, since you first met and you hugged him goodbye before you even really knew him. he never pulls away. sometimes he even initiates it, a hand on your lower back when he guides you through doorways, fingers brushing yours when he hands you things. he never makes you feel weird about it.
his apartment is in a part of town thats gentrifying fast, all exposed brick and new construction. his unit is on the third floor, small but clean, everything organized in a way that makes you think he probably alphabetizes his books. which he does, you notice, when you walk in. fiction on the left, nonfiction on the right.
"nice place," you say, and your voice sounds too loud in the quiet.
"thanks sweetheart." he hangs up your coat, gestures toward the couch. "sit. you want water? tea? i have snacks if you get hungry later."
"water, please."
he brings you a glass and sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch, and you relax into the contact.
you always find excuses to sit close to him on couches, to bump your knee against his under tables. he seems to expect it now, seems to make room for it, shifting slightly so your shoulders press together.
he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small tin, opens it to reveal several gummies wrapped in individual wax paper. they look innocent, like candy youd buy at a fancy grocery store.
"these are ten milligrams each," he says, holding one up. "for reference, most people who smoke regularly start with five. but you said you smoke sometimes, right?"
"yeah," you say. "plenty of times. i know how to handle myself. i can feel it right away, you know? i take a hit, i wait, i see how i feel. if its too much i stop. but ive never greened out before. never had a bad time with smoking."
"right." he nods. "edibles are different. they take longer to hit, usually between forty five minutes to two hours. and when they hit, they hit different. its more of a body high, lasts longer. but because of that delay, people think they didnt take enough, so they take more, and then theyre way too high."
you look at the gummy in his hand. it looks small. harmless. "ten seems like a lot."
"for some people, yeah. for others, its nothing." he studies your face. "we could cut it in half. start with five. but honestly, based on what youve told me about your tolerance, ten should be fine. you just have to trust the process. and trust me."
you look at him. his eyes are dark, steady. he has this way of looking at you that makes you feel like hes really seeing you, not just looking in your direction.
"i trust you," you say.
"okay." he unwraps the gummy, hands it to you. "take it. and then were going to put on a movie, and youre going to relax, and im going to check in with you every twenty minutes or so. if at any point you feel uncomfortable, you tell me. if you want me to stop talking, tell me. if you want me to hold your hand, tell me. okay?"
"okay," you say, and you put the gummy in your mouth.
it tastes like mango, sweet and slightly artificial. you chew it slowly, deliberately, and jay watches you with an expression you cant quite read. when you swallow, he nods.
"good. now we wait."
he puts on a movie, something youve seen before but dont mind watching again, a comedy with low stakes and bright colors.
you sit on his couch and you try to relax, but your body is humming with anticipation, with the knowledge that something is coming and you cant control when it arrives.
you find yourself leaning into him, your shoulder pressing against his arm. he doesnt move away. instead he shifts slightly, making room for you, and his arm settles along the back of the couch behind your head.
"how long has it been?" you ask after what feels like forever.
he checks his phone. "fifteen minutes."
"thats all?"
"thats all." he smiles, not making fun of you, just amused. "youre going to be fine darling. i promise."
"so," he says, keeping his voice casual. "tell me about your week."
you start talking, rambling really, about the paper you have due next week and the weird interaction you had with your neighbor in the elevator and how you think you need new shoes because yours have holes in them and you keep getting wet socks when it rains.
jay listens, nodding at the right moments, asking questions that show hes actually paying attention.
"and then she said," you continue,
"that i should really consider getting a plant for my apartment because it would help with the energy and i was like, i can barely keep myself alive, how am i supposed to keep a plant alive, you know? and she looked at me like i was crazy but i just think its a lot of pressure, like, to be responsible for another living thing, even if its just a succulent or whatever, because succulents are supposed to be easy but i knew this girl in college who killed three of them and i just dont want to be that person, i dont want to be the succulent killer, jay, do you know what i mean?"
you pause for breath and realize jay is looking at you with this expression, this barely suppressed smile, his eyes crinkled at the corners.
"what?" you ask.
"nothing," he says, but his voice is strained, like hes holding back laughter.
"why are you looking at me like that?"
"like what?"
"like im... like im funny."
"you are funny," he says, and then a little laugh escapes him, soft and warm. "but also, baby, i think it hit you."
"what?"
"the edible. youre rambling."
"i am not," you say, but even as you say it you realize your mouth feels different, slower, and your shoulders feel loose in a way they werent ten minutes ago. "oh. oh."
jay laughs then, a real laugh, bright and unguarded. "you didnt even notice, did you?"
"i was in the middle of a sentence," you say, and then youre laughing too, because its funny, because you were so caught up in talking about succulents that you missed the moment your brain switched tracks. "how long have i been like this?"
"just the last minute or two," he says, still smiling. "you went from normal to... this... mid word. it was cute."
"cute," you repeat, and the word feels fluffy in your mouth. "im cute."
"very cute," he confirms, and his hand moves from the back of the couch to your shoulder, squeezing gently. "how do you feel?"
you think about it. you think about your body, about the way the couch feels against your legs, about the warmth of jays hand on your shoulder.
"good," you say, and you mean it. you feel good. you feel like youre wrapped in a blanket, like the couch is hugging you back, like the air in the room is thicker and sweeter. "i feel really good."
"thats great," he says. "just ride it. let me know if it gets too intense."
you nod and turn back to the movie, but now the colors seem brighter, the jokes funnier.
you find yourself laughing at things that arent even punchlines, just the way someones face looks, the way the light hits the window in the background.
youre aware that youre high, properly high, but its nice. its like being drunk but clearer, warmer.
you shift closer to jay, seeking the contact, and he opens his arm so you can tuck yourself against his side. his body is warm and solid and you can smell his cologne, something woodsy and clean.
"youre touchy tonight," he observes, but not in a bad way. in a way that says he notices, he remembers, he knows this about you.
"always touchy," you mumble against his shoulder. "just more now."
"i like it," he says, and his arm tightens around you. "you can be as touchy as you want."
you stay like that for a while, watching the movie, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. its grounding, having that point of contact, that reminder that youre here, youre real, youre not alone.
"do you want more water?" jay asks after a while, and you nod.
he gets up and goes to the kitchen, and you watch him move. he moves like someone who is comfortable in his body, all easy grace and intention.
when he comes back with your water, you take it and your fingers brush his and the sensation is overwhelming, not in a bad way, just in a way that makes you very aware of your own skin.
"thank you," you say, and it comes out more earnest than you intended.
"of course," he says. "how you feeling? still good?"
"still good," you confirm. "this is nice. i was scared for no reason."
he sits back down, closer this time, and you immediately lean into him, seeking the warmth. "most people are scared of what they dont know. but you trusted me. that means a lot."
"you make it easy to trust you," you say, and you mean it. youve never felt unsafe with jay, not once. even knowing what he does, knowing that he operates in a world that can be dangerous, youve always felt like he would protect you from all of it.
you drink your water and watch the movie and the warmth spreads through your chest, into your stomach.
you feel light, floaty, like you could close your eyes and drift away on a cloud. its the most relaxed youve been in months, maybe years.
jay reaches into his pocket and pulls out another gummy, smaller this time, maybe five milligrams.
"im gonna take one too," he says. "just a small one. so were on the same level. but i need you to know that im experienced with this, okay? i can handle myself and take care of you at the same time. youre my priority, always. but i want to be high with you. is that okay?"
"yeah," you say, nodding seriously.
he puts it in his mouth and chews, and you watch his throat move as he swallows. "there," he says. "now were in this together."
you smile and settle back against him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. time seems to move differently, stretching and compressing in ways you dont fully understand. you check your phone at some point and realize an hour has passed, but it feels like fifteen minutes.
"how you doing?" he asks, and his voice sounds different now, slower, like honey.
"still good," you say. "you?"
"just starting to feel it," he says. "nice and easy."
you hum and snuggle closer, your hand finding his, your fingers intertwining. he squeezes your hand and doesnt let go.
but then, somewhere around the hour and a half mark, something shifts.
it starts with your heart. youre watching a scene in the movie, something mundane, and suddenly you become aware of your pulse.
its beating faster than normal, you think. or is it?
you try to count but you cant focus long enough. you put your hand on your chest and yes, its definitely beating fast, faster than it should be.
"jay," you say, and your voice sounds different now, tighter.
"yeah?" he turns to you immediately, and even though hes high too, his eyes are clear, alert, focused on you.
"my heart," you say. "its beating really fast."
he reaches out and takes your wrist, his fingers finding your pulse. his touch is cool, grounding.
"its a little elevated," he says, keeping his voice calm. "thats normal with edibles. your blood pressure might be up a bit. are you feeling anxious?"
you think about it. are you? you try to check in with yourself, but its like your mind is a room and someone turned off the lights. you cant find the walls. "i dont know," you say. "maybe. i just... i can feel it. my heart. its so loud."
"okay," he says, and he doesnt let go of your wrist. "thats okay. youre safe. this happens sometimes. your body is just processing the thc, and your heart rate can go up. its not dangerous. youre not in danger."
you nod, but the nod feels disconnected from your body. "okay," you say, but you dont sound convinced.
"look at me," jay says, and you do. his eyes are steady, anchor points in the swirling uncertainty of your thoughts.
"youre having a moment of anxiety. thats all it is. it will pass. im here with you, and im not going anywhere. okay?"
"okay," you whisper.
"do you want me to turn off the movie?"
"yes," you say, and he grabs the remote and the room goes quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
"do you want to lie down?"
you think about it. lying down feels like giving in to the feeling, like admitting that youre not in control. but standing up feels impossible. "yes," you say.
he helps you lie down on the couch, your head on the armrest, and he lies down beside you, facing you, his body curled around yours.
he puts his arms around you and pulls you close, so close you can feel his heartbeat against your chest.
"ive got you," he whispers against your hair. "ive got you baby."
"my heart," you say again, and your voice is shaking. "jay its so fast. ive never felt like this before. ive been high so many times but never like this. whats happening?"
"youre greening out," he says, and his voice is so calm, so certain. "it happens with edibles sometimes. your body is just overwhelmed. but its going to pass. i promise. everythings okay. everythings alright."
"im scared," you say, and the tears come then, hot and fast, tracking down your temples into your hair.
"im scared jay. i dont like this. i dont like feeling like this."
"i know sweetheart," he says, and he holds you tighter, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other rubbing slow circles on your back.
"i know you are. but youre not alone. im right here. and im going to stay right here until you feel better."
"what if i dont feel better?"
"you will," he says. "i promise. it might take an hour. it might take two. but it will pass. and until it does, im going to be here, holding you, talking to you, reminding you that youre safe."
you cry against his chest, the fear making your body tense, but his arms are strong around you, keeping you anchored.
he starts talking, keeping his voice low and steady, telling you about his day, about the weird customer he had earlier who tried to pay him in expired coupons, about the sandwich he ate for lunch that was slightly too spicy, about how he saw a dog wearing a sweater on the bus and it made him think of you because you would have loved it.
"it was blue," he says, his hand still moving in slow circles on your back. "with little buttons. and the dog looked so proud of himself, like he knew he was the best dressed on the bus. and i thought, you would have taken a picture. you would have shown me and said we need to get matching sweaters."
you hiccup a laugh against his shirt, the image cutting through the panic for a moment. "matching sweaters," you mumble.
"yeah," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "you in a little blue sweater. me in a big one. we could be twins."
"ridiculous," you whisper.
"completely ridiculous," he agrees. "but youd look cute."
you close your eyes and try to focus on his voice, on the warmth of his body against yours, on the pressure of his hand on your back.
your heart is still racing, but you start to notice other things too. the way his chest rises and falls under your cheek. the way his fingers trace patterns on your spine. the sound of his breathing, steady and slow.
"can you hear my breathing?" he asks.
"yes."
"match yours to mine."
you try. you breathe with him, following his rhythm, and slowly, so slowly, you feel something shift.
your heart is still fast, but its not getting faster. its plateaued. its not a runaway train anymore, just a fast train on a track.
"thats good," he says. "youre doing so good. keep breathing with me."
you lose track of time. it could be five minutes, it could be thirty. you exist in a space where time doesnt make sense, where the only real things are jays voice and his arms around you and the air moving in and out of your lungs.
he keeps talking, telling you about the book hes reading, about the plans he has for the weekend, about how he wants to try that new thai place that opened down the street.
he talks and talks, filling the space with soft words, keeping your mind occupied, keeping you tethered to reality.
"im sorry," you say at some point, your voice small against his chest.
"shh," he says, his hand moving to stroke your hair. "none of that. you have nothing to be sorry for."
"i cried on you."
"you cried with me," he corrects. "theres a difference. and im glad you did. better out than in."
you smile a little, your fingers finding the fabric of his hoodie and clutching it. "youre so good to me."
"you make it easy," he says. "youre so brave right now. you know that?"
"i dont feel brave."
"but you are," he insists. "youre scared and youre still here, still breathing, still fighting through it. thats brave."
you dont feel brave, but you want to believe him.
you want to think that maybe this is what bravery looks like, letting someone hold you while you fall apart.
"im tired," you say.
"thats normal," he says. "the adrenaline from the panic crashes you. you can sleep if you want. ill be here."
"youll stay?"
"ill stay," he promises. "im not going anywhere."
you close your eyes and let yourself drift, not fully asleep but not fully awake either.
you can still feel your heart, but its slower now, closer to normal. the fear has receded to a low hum in the background, manageable, something you can ignore.
jay keeps stroking your hair, and he starts humming softly, some song you dont recognize, something melodic and slow. the vibration of his chest against your ear is hypnotic, grounding.
"jay?" you whisper.
"yeah baby?"
"thank you."
"you dont have to thank me," he says. "im just glad you trusted me enough to try this with me. and im glad i was here to help."
"im glad you were here too," you say. "i dont know what i would have done if i was alone."
"you would have been okay eventually," he says. "but its better this way. with someone."
"yeah," you agree, and you mean it.
you lie there for a long time, letting the high settle into something softer, something you can handle. your body feels heavy now, relaxed in a different way than before. the anxiety has been replaced by a gentle fatigue, a desire to just be still and quiet.
"how are you feeling now?" jay asks eventually, his voice soft.
"okay," you say. "still high. but okay. tired."
"thats good. the worst is over."
you shift slightly, pressing closer to him, seeking more contact. he responds by holding you tighter, his arms wrapping all the way around you, his chin resting on top of your head.
"im sorry i freaked out," you say, the words slurring slightly with exhaustion.
"seriously, no more apologizing," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "you didnt freak out. you had a reaction. it happens. and you handled it really well. im proud of you."
"proud," you repeat, the word feeling heavy and good.
"very proud," he confirms. "you did great."
you smile against his chest, your eyes too heavy to keep open anymore. "stay with me?" you whisper.
"always," he says. "ill be right here."
you fall asleep like that, tangled up in him, safe and warm and cared for. his arms stay around you all night, holding you close, keeping the bad dreams away.
⋆˚✿˖°
an✧˖°. i hope you guys enjoyed this!! i want to add more to my plug!enha cronicles soooo here we are :)) after pt 2 of angels dance, i might take a small break from requests, just so i can focus on ideas that i have. reblogs are always welcome, and if you have something specific youd like to see, please send an ask :) even if i dont make it right away, itll always get done eventually!
Includes ──── angst, fluff, psychopath!sunoo x reader, stalking, suggestive, Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, manipulation, dark romance
now playing ─── sweet but psycho
You were working your usual shift at the corner café when an effortlessly endearing customer walked in. What started as a charming distraction quickly turned into something much larger—because he was far more than just a regular looking for coffee.
authors note: first time writing sunoo, hopefully it doesn't disappoint, I'm trying to get as much stories uploaded as possible before I go back to campus in a month.
It all began on an evening you had agreed to cover overtime. Standing behind the counter, you took order after order from tired patrons, each looking for a warm drink and a moment of peace.
A familiar face stepped up to the counter, flashing you an easy, confident smile. "The usual, please," he said. You blinked, staring back at him in complete confusion—you had no idea what his order was. "Uh... I’m sorry, I actually don't know your usual," you admitted, feeling a bit put on the spot. His smile softened into a warm, amused grin. "No worries! It's a caramel mocha with extra shots of vanilla and a chocolate drizzle."
"Right... got it," you said, scribbling the customized order onto a paper cup. "I'll bring it right out to you!" As you turned to make the drink, he stayed planted at the counter, his smile slowly fading into something cold and unreadable. Behind those warm eyes was a dark, sharp glint—a quiet resentment that you hadn't recognized him. After all, how could you fail to know the face of your biggest fan?
"Here's your order," you said, glancing down at the blank cup, "uh..." "Sunoo," he offered smoothly before you could stumble through the question. He took the cup, his fingers lightly brushing yours, and flashed a brilliant smile. "Thank you. I know it's going to be delicious."
As you turned back toward the counter, a faint chill prickled the back of your neck. You hadn’t mentioned your name once tonight, yet as he took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes remained fixed on you over the rim of the cup.
"It's perfect," Sunoo murmured, stepping closer to the pickup ledge—a little too close. "Just like you made it for me last Tuesday. And the Thursday before that."
You froze, your hand hovering over the damp rag on the counter. You hadn't worked the late shift last Thursday.
"I uh... I didn't work last Thursday," you said, a knot of unease twisting in your stomach.
Sunoo didn't blink. His smile didn't fade either—if anything, it grew a little wider, entirely unbothered by the slip. "I know," he said softly, swirling the coffee in his cup. "You were off. You stayed home, ordered takeout around seven, and wore that oversized green sweater. I was waiting outside, hoping you'd come out for a walk."
"H-Huh..." The color drained from your face as you tried to process what he was saying.
"I'm just kidding! Did I scare you?" Sunoo chuckled, tilting his head with innocent curiosity. He reached across the counter, setting his cup down. "You should have seen your face! I was just testing to see if you were paying attention." He offered a bright, disarming smile, but the way his gaze lingered on your hands—still trembling on the counter—felt entirely calculated.
You forced a high, nervous laugh. "You got me! Haha..."
"I knew I could break the ice," Sunoo beamed, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "I'll go sit down so you can finish up." As he turned away, your eyes dropped to the counter—and you froze. Right next to the register where he had been leaning, he had left behind a small, handwritten note facedown. On the back, in neat, precise handwriting, was a list of dates. And right at the top was last Thursday's date, circled twice.
"We're closing soon," you offered with a polite, professional smile that didn't reach your eyes, hoping he’d take the hint and head for the door.
Instead, Sunoo rested his chin in his hand, his expression entirely unbothered. "No rush. I'll just wait until you lock up," he said softly, offering a sweet, boyish grin that felt entirely wrong given the circumstances. "I can help you carry the heavy trash bags out back."
"I'm okay, thank you though," you said, forcing a polite tone while keeping the counter firmly between the two of you.
Sunoo’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second before snapping right back into place. "Are you sure?" he asked, taking a step closer. His tone was soft, almost soothing, but his eyes were completely unreadable. "It's really no trouble. A girl shouldn't be walking home alone this late, especially with someone like... well, with everything going on these days. I'd feel much better if I walked with you."
Your instinct screamed at you to move. You reached behind your back, your fingers frantically searching the prep table until they brushed against the slick plastic handle of a stainless-steel pitcher.
"You're not supposed to be back here," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to sound firm.
Sunoo didn't look bothered. If anything, the sight of your fear seemed to satisfy him. "Why are you so scared of me?" he asked softly, taking a slow step forward. "After everything I've done to protect you?"
"W-What...?" The breath hitched in your throat.
Sunoo sighed, looking almost disappointed in you as he set his empty cup down on the prep counter with a dull thud. "I told you. I pay attention," he murmured, closing the remaining distance between you until he was standing just inches away. "I know who works which shift. I know when the security cameras are turned off for maintenance. And I know you're all alone tonight."
Your eyes snapped open.
You sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air as your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird. Cold sweat slicked your skin, sticking your hair to your forehead.
The café. The late shift. The cold, unblinking eyes of the customer standing on your side of the counter.
Panic still clawed at your chest as you looked around the dark room. The soft, rhythmically ticking clock on your nightstand read 3:14 AM. No fluorescent lights. No stainless-steel prep tables. No heavy, locked doors.
It was just a dream. A terrifying, vivid nightmare.
You let out a shaky, trembling sigh, burying your face in your hands to calm your racing pulse. It was just a dream, you repeated like a mantra. You reached for your phone on the bedside table to check the time, needing the familiar light to ground you.
The screen illuminated the dark room. But as your eyes adjusted to the glare, the breath died in your throat.
There was a single, unread notification sitting on your lock screen from an unknown sender, sent just two minutes ago:
Did I scare you?
The phone nearly slipped from your numb fingers.
Your heart, which had only just begun to settle, surged back into a frantic, deafening rhythm. The glow of the screen felt harsh, blinding, illuminating the quiet shadows of your bedroom.
It was just a dream, you tried to tell yourself again, but the text sat right there in front of you, stark and indisputable.
Did I scare you?
A sudden, soft click echoed from down the hallway—the distinct, heavy sound of your front door's deadbolt sliding into place from the inside.
Before you could even process the sound, your phone buzzed in your hand once more with a second notification:
I told you I wouldn't let you walk home alone in the dark.
Every nerve in your body screamed at you to run, but your legs felt like lead, heavy and useless under the blankets.
Slow, deliberate footsteps began to echo down the hallway. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound was crisp against the hardwood floor, moving closer with agonizing patience.
You scrambled backward until your shoulders hit the headboard, pulling the duvet up to your chest as if thin cotton could shield you from whatever was coming. You gripped your phone so hard your knuckles turned white, but your fingers trembled too violently to dial three digits.
The footsteps stopped right outside your bedroom door.
Silence stretched through the dark apartment, heavy and suffocating. You held your breath, praying that if you stayed completely still, the nightmare would finally end—that you'd wake up for real this time.
Then, the brass door handle slowly turned.
The door creaked open, revealing a slender silhouette framed by the dim light of your living room. He stepped across the threshold, his quiet chuckles breaking the stillness.
"You really should remember to lock your windows," Sunoo said softly, his voice full of gentle reproach. He held up a paper coffee cup, steam still faintly rising from the lid. "I brought your caramel mocha. Extra vanilla, chocolate drizzle... just the way you like to make it."
"That's your order.. n-not mine!"
Sunoo stopped in his tracks, tilting his head as if genuinely surprised by your correction.
"Is it?" he asked, his voice dripping with an eerie, quiet amusement. He took another slow step into the room, setting the warm cup down on your nightstand, right next to your phone.
"I guess I got confused," he whispered, leaning down until his face was just inches from yours. The faint, sweet scent of espresso and vanilla drifted off him, mixed with the cold air from outside. The shadow of a smile played on his lips. "I spent so long learning every detail about you... I suppose I started mixing up where you end, and where I begin."
He reached out, his cool fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your whole body locked up, terror freezing the scream in your throat.
"Don't look at me like that," he murmured softly, his eyes darkening. "I'm the only one who truly cares about you. And now... no one is ever going to come between us again."
"W-What do you want from me?"
Sunoo didn't answer right away. He stood above you, his gaze slow and deliberate, taking in every trace of fear on your face like a collector admiring something rare.
"What do I want?" he repeated, his tone almost tender, as if he were addressing a child asking an obvious question. He reached down and cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheekbone. His skin was unnaturally cold.
"I want what I've always wanted," he whispered, leaning in until his breath ghosted over your ear. "Your time. Your attention. Your whole world."
He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression smoothing into that bright, picture-perfect smile from the café—the contrast making your blood run cold.
"I watched you give so much of yourself to strangers every single day. Wasting your smiles on people who didn't even notice you," he said softly, his grip on your face tightening just enough to keep you from turning away. "So I decided to change that. From now on... you only look at me."
The soft, persistent tick-tick-tick of your nightstand clock felt like a countdown in the suffocating silence of the room.
"Now," Sunoo murmured, his smile fading into something dark and absolute. "Are you going to drink your coffee, or do we need to talk about how you're going to pack?"
"Pack for what.."
Sunoo let out a quiet, melodic laugh, as if you’ve just said something utterly adorable. He leaned back slightly, resting both hands on the edge of your mattress, effectively pinning you in place.
"For us," he said softly, his eyes sparkling with a unsettling intensity. "You don't honestly think you're staying here, do you? In this drafty little apartment with bad locks?"
He gestured vaguely toward the window, where the rain had just begun to patter against the glass.
"I bought a place," he continued, his tone entirely casual, as if he were discussing buying a new coat. "Quiet. Secluded. Somewhere no tired customers can bother you, and where you'll never have to work a late shift again."
He reached down, taking your ice-cold, trembling hand into his own, squeezing it with gentle, unrelenting pressure.
"I've taken care of everything. I handed in your resignation at the café tonight, packed up your shift schedule, and even answered a few messages on your phone so your friends wouldn't worry about you going off the grid for a while."
He offered a brilliant, picture-perfect smile.
"You don't need any of them anymore. You just need me."
A cold weight dropped into the pit of your stomach. Your mind raced—he handed in my resignation? He answered my texts?
"You... you can't just do that," you managed to whisper, your throat so dry the words barely scraped out. "I have a life here. My friends, my job—"
"A life?" Sunoo interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, losing every trace of its warm facade. He squeezed your hand a fraction tighter, the pressure bordering on painful. "Working until midnight for minimum wage? Coming home to a tiny room, eating cold takeout by yourself? That's not a life, darling. That was just surviving."
He leaned in closer, his dark eyes searching your pale face for any sign of compliance.
"I'm giving you a home. A place where you'll be taken care of. Protected." He brought your hand up to his lips, brushing a soft, chilling kiss against your trembling knuckles. "I've been preparing for this for months. I know what's best for you now."
He let go of your hand, standing up in one smooth, fluid motion. He reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a small, sleek black key fob, tossing it onto the bed beside you.
"You have ten minutes to grab what you can't live without," Sunoo said calmly, checking his watch. The bright, boyish smile flickered back onto his face like a light switch being flipped. "Or I can just carry you out to the car as you are. Either way... we're leaving before sunrise."
"I'm not going with you! You're crazy!"
The words tore through the quiet room, echoing off the narrow walls.
Sunoo didn't flinch. He didn't blink. The cheerful, boyish expression on his face slowly melted away, replaced by an absolute, stony stillness. For a second, the only sound in the bedroom was the patter of rain against the window pane and your own ragged breathing.
"Crazy?" he murmured, repeating the word as if testing its weight on his tongue.
He didn't yell. He didn't raise his voice. Instead, he took a slow, deliberate step toward the bed, his shadow stretching long and dark across the mattress.
"I spent six months making sure you got home safe every single night," he said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "I made sure no one followed you. I made sure the shift manager who was making you uncomfortable suddenly stopped showing up to work. I’ve sacrificed everything to keep you safe."
He reached out, his hand wrapping firmly around your ankle through the blanket, his grip tightening until it felt like a steel vise. The gentle, attentive customer from the café was completely gone.
"You don't get to call me crazy," Sunoo whispered, pulling you an inch closer to the edge of the bed. His dark eyes locked onto yours, unyielding and pitch-black in the dim light. "And you don't get a choice anymore. Now, are you going to stand up on your own, or do I make this painful?"
Adrenaline surged through your body, overriding the paralyzing fear that had kept you trapped. You couldn't let him take you.
With all the force you had left, you kicked your free leg straight out, your foot connecting hard with Sunoo’s chest.
The blow caught him off guard. He stumbled back, his grip slipping from your ankle as he hit the edge of the nightstand. The porcelain coffee cup wobbled and crashed to the floor, shattering into sharp pieces and sending hot liquid pooling across the hardwood.
You didn't wait to see if he was hurt.
You threw back the duvet and bolted off the mattress, diving toward the open bedroom door. Your bare feet skidded slightly on the slick floor, but you scrambled into the hallway, your lungs burning as you made a desperate dash for the apartment's front door.
"That wasn't very nice," Sunoo’s voice echoed from behind you—far closer than it should have been.
You reached the front door, your hands wildly grabbing at the brass doorknob. You twisted it—it was locked. Your trembling fingers flew to the deadbolt, shoving it back into the unlocked position, but before you could pull the door open, a heavy hand slammed flat against the wood right beside your head, rattling the frame.
The door slammed shut again.
Sunoo leaned over your shoulder, his chest heaving slightly against your back, trapping you entirely between the heavy door and his body. The sweet, sharp scent of vanilla and coffee was suffocating.
"I tried to be gentle," he whispered into the shell of your ear, his voice tight with dark, dangerous frustration. He wrapped one arm tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him so you couldn't move an inch. "I really did."
"Let me go!"
"Let me go!" The scream tore from your throat, echoing off the thin walls of the narrow hallway as you thrashed against his grip, driving your elbow backward into his ribs with everything you had.
Sunoo hissed in pain, his hold loosening just enough for you to twist around. You drove your shoulder into his chest, shoving him back toward the living room. He stumbled over the edge of the hallway rug, his arm sweeping across a side table and sending a glass lamp crashing to the floor.
You didn't look back. You slammed your palm against the deadbolt, yanked the front door open, and sprinted out into the dimly lit, carpeted hallway of your apartment building.
"Help! Somebody help!" you shouted, your bare feet slapping against the cold floor as you headed straight for the stairwell exit.
Behind you, the heavy front door slammed against the outer wall. Heavy, rapid footsteps began pounding against the hallway floor, gaining on you fast.
"Stop running!" Sunoo’s voice rang out, stripped of all calm and polish, raw with anger.
You shoved through the heavy metal door of the stairwell, the crash bar resounding like a gunshot in the enclosed space. You took the stairs three at a time, clinging desperately to the cold steel handrail, your heart hammering against your ribs.
Below you, the emergency exit on the ground floor was in sight—just one more flight of stairs. But the heavy door at the top of the stairwell slammed open above you, and his footsteps began descending at a terrifying speed.
The heavy metal door of the ground floor was just feet away when a hand caught the back of your collar, yanking you violently off balance.
You stumbled backward down the last few concrete steps, tumbling onto the cold landing before you could even try to push yourself up. A heavy knee dropped onto your back, pinning you flat against the concrete. The breath left your lungs in a sharp, painful gasp.
"I gave you every chance to make this easy," Sunoo breathed out, his voice harsh and uneven in your ear.
You tried to thrash, to scream, but a cold, wet cloth was suddenly pressed firmly over your nose and mouth. A sharp, chemical odor filled your senses, instantly burning the back of your throat.
No. No, please—
You fought against it, kicking your legs and trying to hold your breath, but your body betrayed you, forcing a deep inhale. Within seconds, your limbs felt heavy, as if filled with lead. The stark fluorescent lights of the stairwell began to flicker and blur, spinning into a vortex of dark shapes.
Sunoo leaned down, his grip softening as his hand smoothed over your hair, brushing a stray strand away from your forehead. His voice sounded muffled now, as if underwater.
"It's okay," he whispered gently. "It's all over now. You're safe with me."
The shadows closed in around the edges of your vision until the cold concrete beneath you dissolved into nothingness.
When your eyes finally fluttered open, the harsh chemical taste still lingered on your tongue.
The light was low and warm, casting long shadows across unfamiliar oak paneled walls. The soft hum of a fireplace crackled somewhere in the room. You weren't in your apartment, and you certainly weren't at the café.
You tried to move your hands, but a soft leather strap around your wrist gave a taut, uncompromising tug, keeping your arm anchored to the plush wooden frame of a large bed.
The door across the room clicked open. Sunoo stepped in, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup and a glass of water. He looked up, his face brightening with that quiet, terrifyingly gentle smile.
"Good, you're awake," he said softly, walking over to set the tray on the bedside table. "How are you feeling?"
"Why am I here... please let me go I-I won't tell anyone!"
Sunoo set the tray down on the nightstand with meticulous care. He pulled up a heavy wooden chair, setting it beside the bed, and sat down. He didn't look angry anymore; instead, his face wore a look of mild, quiet disappointment, like a parent dealing with a confused child.
"Don't lie to me," he said softly, reaching out to gently trace the line of your jaw. His fingers were warm now from the fire, making the contact feel almost unnervingly comfortable. "You'd call the police the second you got out that door. You'd tell your friends, you'd change your locks, and you'd spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, terrified."
He leaned in, his dark eyes fixated on yours with terrifying intensity.
"I didn't bring you here to hurt you. I brought you here so we could finally start our life together without all the noise," he whispered, his thumb lightly stroking your cheekbone. "You're here because the world out there doesn't appreciate you, and I do. It's going to take time for you to see that, but I'm patient. I have all the time in the world."
He picked up the glass of water from the tray and held the straw up to your lips, his smile soft, expectant, and entirely unyielding.
"Now, take a sip. You're dehydrated."
In fear of your life, you take the sip. You swallow hard, your pulse hammering against your ribs as you lean forward and take a slow, hesitant sip from the straw. The cool water soothes your burning throat, but every instinct in your body is screaming at the terrifying reality of your situation.
Sunoo’s eyes soften as he watches you comply. A look of quiet satisfaction settles over his features, and he sets the glass back down on the wooden tray with an almost delicate gentleness.
"Good," he murmurs, his voice dropping into that smooth, comforting register that feels so completely unnatural given where you are. He reaches out, his thumb lightly wiping a stray drop of water from the corner of your lip. "See? I knew you'd be reasonable."
He leans back in the chair, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you, his gaze lingering over your face with a calm, possessive intensity.
"You must be exhausted," he says softly. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I'm going to let you rest now, but I'll be right down the hall if you need anything."
He stands up, picking up the tray of untouched soup, and pauses at the side of the bed. He leans down, pressing a light, lingering kiss to your forehead—his skin warm, his breath smelling faintly of vanilla—before stepping back.
"Sleep well," he whispers, flicking off the bedside lamp and plunging the room into the dim, orange glow of the dying fireplace.
The heavy oak door clicks shut behind him, followed by the agonizing, sharp sound of a key turning in the lock from the outside.
You are left alone in the dark, the leather restraint taut against your wrist, listening to the crackle of the embers as you try to figure out your next move.
The silence of the room settled around you like a heavy blanket, broken only by the quiet crackle of the dying fire and the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock somewhere out in the hallway.
You waited, holding your breath for what felt like an eternity, listening for any sign of movement outside the heavy oak door. Five minutes passed. Ten. Nothing. Just the quiet hum of an isolated house in the middle of nowhere.
Slowly, carefully, you tugged at the leather restraint on your wrist.
The strap was thick, buckled securely to the sturdy mahogany bedpost, but it wasn't a pair of metal handcuffs. There was a tiny bit of give in the leather.
You turned your head toward the nightstand, scanning the small area lit by the low glow of the fire. The tray was gone, but sitting right near the edge of the table—where Sunoo had set it down earlier—was the sleek, black key fob he had dropped back at your apartment. He must have pulled it from his pocket without thinking and left it behind.
Your heart surged. If you could reach it, or if there was a button on it to set off an alarm, or if you could use the metal key ring to work at the buckle...
Stretching your tied arm as far as it would go, your fingers brushed the very edge of the nightstand. You were still inches short.
You took a deep, quiet breath, pulling against the leather until it bit sharply into your skin, and shifted your hips toward the edge of the mattress.
Clink.
Your fingertips grazed the heavy key fob, nudging it toward you—just as a soft pair of socked footsteps stopped right outside your bedroom door.
Your breath hitched, trapped in the back of your throat.
You froze instantly, your heart pounding so violently against your ribs you were certain he could hear it from the hallway. Your fingertips remained resting on the cool metal of the key fob, motionless.
The brass doorknob jiggled slightly—a soft, testing turn.
Click.
The lock turned, and the heavy oak door swung inward. Sunoo stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light of the corridor. He was holding a fresh, folded wool blanket over one arm.
"I thought you might get cold," he said softly, his voice quiet in the dimly lit room.
He took two slow steps toward the bed. As he moved closer, his eyes swept over you—taking in your rigid posture, your outstretched arm, and the black key fob sitting right beneath your hand.
The gentle, domestic expression on his face vanished, settling into a cold, unreadable mask.
"You really don't stop trying, do you?" Sunoo murmured, his tone eerily devoid of anger.
He set the blanket down on the foot of the bed and stepped up to the nightstand. Without breaking eye contact, he reached out, picked up the key fob, and slipped it into his back pocket. Then, he leaned over you, his shadow completely blotting out the warm light of the fireplace.
"I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this so soon," he whispered, his fingers reaching out to trail down your arm to the leather buckle. He unclasped the strap holding your right wrist, only to pull both of your hands behind your back, securing them together with a second, tighter set of leather restraints.
He pulled the knot taut, ensuring there wasn't a single inch of slack left.
"Now," Sunoo said softly, brushing a thumb over your lips, his dark eyes fixated on yours. "No more distractions."
Sunoo stopped, his fingers hovering near your cheek as he watched the single tear trace a path down your skin.
For a fraction of a second, something like genuine regret flickered in his eyes—a fleeting moment of vulnerability that quickly twisted back into his possessive logic.
He reached out, his thumb gently catching the drop of moisture right before it reached your jaw.
"Because no one else saw you," Sunoo whispered softly, his thumb pressing lightly against your skin. "They saw a face behind a counter. A co-worker to pass the time with. A stranger on the street. I am the only one who actually looks at you. I know every detail of your life, every habit, every smile you force when you're exhausted."
He knelt by the side of the bed, bringing his face level with yours, his eyes locked onto yours with terrifying sincerity.
"You think this is a punishment, but it isn't," he continued, his voice barely louder than a breath. "Out there, you were drowning, exhausted and alone. Here, you're safe. You don't have to fight anymore. I’m going to give you everything you could ever need... once you let go of that silly desire to run away."
He stood up smoothly, reaching over to pull the heavy wool blanket up to your shoulders, carefully tucking it around you so you were completely enveloped in warmth, bound and helpless beneath its weight.
"Get some sleep," he said softly, stepping back toward the door. "Tomorrow, we start learning how to be together."
The heavy key turned in the lock once more, leaving you in the dim red glow of the dying embers, the leather binding your wrists behind your back a constant, unyielding reminder of your reality.
The faint embers in the fireplace flickered out, leaving the room blanketed in a suffocating, pitch-black silence.
Hot tears spilled freely down your cheeks, soaking into the unfamiliar pillow. Bound at the wrists behind your back, you couldn't even lift a hand to wipe them away. The dull ache in your arms was nothing compared to the hollow, overwhelming despair sinking into your chest.
Resignation handed in. Messages answered on your phone. Friends convinced you just wanted to go off the grid for a while.
He had erased your footprint in a single night. No one was coming to break down the door. No one was searching the countryside for a missing person because, as far as the world was concerned, you had simply chosen to leave.
You squeezed your eyes shut, the heavy wool blanket pressing down on you like a cage. Every time you tried to picture a way out, Sunoo's calm, unyielding eyes flashed in your mind. He was patient. He was meticulously organized. And he had built this entire reality specifically to hold you.
The grandfather clock out in the hallway chimed a slow, rhythmic stroke for 3:00 AM.
As the quiet swallowed the room once more, the bitter truth fully set in: you weren't escaping tonight, or likely tomorrow. If you were going to survive this, you couldn't rely on wild kicks or panicked sprints anymore. You were going to have to survive the long game.
────୨ৎ────
Gray morning light filtered through the heavy drapes, replacing the warm glow of the fireplace with a cold, muted haze.
The soft click of the lock turning signaled his return. Sunoo pushed the heavy oak door open, carrying a silver tray with a steaming mug of tea, fresh fruit, and a plate of warm pastries. He had exchanged his dark jacket for a soft, cream-colored knit sweater, looking terrifyingly domestic.
"Good morning," he said softly, setting the tray down on the nightstand. His eyes swept over your tear-stained face and the dark circles under your eyes, his expression softening with a flicker of pity. "You didn't sleep at all, did you?"
He sat on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to gently push a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. You flinched, but with your hands still bound tightly behind your back, you had nowhere to retreat.
"I know last night was overwhelming," Sunoo murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone. "It's a big adjustment. But I promise you, in time, this is going to feel like home."
He reached behind you, his fingers deftly working the buckle of the leather restraint until your hands fell free. The sudden rush of circulation made your fingers throb with a dull, prickling pain.
"I'm going to leave your hands free while we eat," Sunoo said calmly, picking up the cup of tea and blowing gently on the steam before offering it to you. "As long as you promise not to do anything foolish. Can you do that for me?"
You gave a slow, barely perceptible nod, keeping your eyes downcast as you cradled your aching wrists against your lap.
Sunoo smiled, a genuine, warm expression that made the situation feel all the more surreal. "Good," he murmured softly.
He handed you the warm mug of tea. The heat radiating through the ceramic was a grounding comfort against your freezing hands. You took a tiny, careful sip, the sweet taste of honey and chamomile coating your dry throat.
Sunoo settled comfortably on the edge of the bed, picking up a plate with a freshly baked pastry and setting it on your lap. He watched you with a quiet, intense satisfaction, like a man watching a wild animal slowly take food from his hand for the first time.
"I have a few things to take care of downstairs this morning," he said, his tone conversational and light, as if you were just two housemates planning their day. "I'll leave the door unlocked so you can use the adjoining bathroom to wash up and change. I even put out some comfortable clothes for you in the closet."
He paused, leaning in slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours with absolute clarity.
"The front and back doors of the house are deadbolted from the outside, and the windows are reinforced glass," he added smoothly, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. "So don't waste your energy trying to break them, okay? I just want you to focus on resting today."
He stood up, smoothing down his sweater, and gave you one last lingering look before heading toward the bedroom door. He left it cracked open just an inch—a subtle test of your obedience.
You took a deep, steadying breath, letting the warmth of the mug soak into your fingers. If you were going to play the long game, you had to start by giving him exactly what he wanted to see: surrender.
You ate the pastry slowly, forcing down every bite even though your stomach was twisted in knots. Every gesture had to look genuine. You finished the tea, set the tray neatly back on the nightstand, and slipped out from under the heavy wool blanket.
Your legs were shaky, but you walked across the soft rug toward the adjoining bathroom. Inside, clean towels were folded neatly on the marble counter, and a fresh set of oversized, cozy clothes was laid out on the bench—all chosen in your exact size, an unsettling reminder of how long he had been planning this.
You washed your face with cold water, scrubbing away the tear tracks and the terrifying haze of the night before. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you made a silent promise to yourself: I'm surviving this, no matter what it takes.
After changing into the clothes, you stepped back into the bedroom, folding your old clothes neatly and placing them by the foot of the bed. Then, you sat quietly on the edge of the mattress, hands folded loosely in your lap, waiting.
When the quiet sound of soft footsteps echoed up the stairs a short while later, Sunoo appeared in the doorway. He stopped, his gaze sweeping over the polished room, the empty tray, and finally resting on you—dressed in his clothes, sitting placidly.
A look of profound relief and quiet fascination washed over his face.
"Look at you," Sunoo whispered, walking over with a soft, genuine smile that reached his eyes. He knelt down right in front of you, placing his hands gently on your knees. "I knew you were smart. I knew you'd understand."
He leaned up, resting his forehead against your knee for a brief, almost reverent moment before looking back up into your eyes.
"Since you're being so good," he said softly, "how about I show you the rest of your new home?"
"I'd like that," you said, forcing your voice to sound quiet, submissive, and small.
Sunoo’s eyes lit up, a soft blush brushing his cheeks as he stood up and offered you his hand. You took it without hesitation, letting him pull you up from the bed. His grip was warm and surprisingly gentle now, missing the terrifying bite from the night before, but the implicit threat remained under every motion.
He led you out into a sprawling, sunlit hallway lined with warm oak paneling and plush runner rugs that muffled your steps.
"This is the top floor," Sunoo explained, his tone light and enthusiastic, like a tour guide showing off a prized estate. "My bedroom is just down the hall, and there’s a study at the end. You're welcome anywhere up here, as long as I'm with you."
He guided you down a grand wooden staircase into a spacious, open-concept living area. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows framed a sweeping view of a dense, dark forest—no neighboring houses, no roads, no signs of civilization anywhere in sight. The house was an isolated fortress hidden deep in the wilderness.
"The kitchen is over here," he continued, leading you toward a sleek, modern cooking space complete with high-end appliances. "I'll be making all our meals. You won't have to lift a finger for anything ever again."
He turned to face you, stepping close enough that you could smell the subtle scent of warm vanilla and fresh linen clinging to his sweater. He cupped your cheek, his thumb softly tracing your lip as he studied your expression.
"You're adapting so quickly," he whispered, his voice dripping with affection. "It almost makes me feel bad for keeping you bound last night. Tell me... do you still hate me?"
"I don't hate you... I was just scared," you said softly, letting your voice tremble just enough to sound vulnerable. You lowered your eyes, looking down at the chest of his sweater instead of meeting his gaze.
Sunoo’s expression softened instantly, a flicker of profound tenderness washing over his features. The dark, possessive edge in his eyes melted away, replaced by an overwhelming look of protective devotion.
"Oh, sweetheart..." he murmured, pulling you into a firm, warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into the side of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin. "I'm so sorry I scared you. I hated having to be rough with you, I really did. But you were going to run, and I couldn't let you ruin everything before we even had a chance."
He stroked your hair gently, his fingers running through the strands in a calm, soothing rhythm. You stayed still in his arms, forcing your breathing to remain slow and steady despite the screaming panic deep down inside you.
"You don't ever have to be scared of me again," Sunoo whispered into your neck, his grip tightening just a fraction—a subtle reminder of his strength. "As long as you stay right here with me, where you belong, I will protect you from everything. I'll make you so happy, you'll forget you ever wanted to leave."
He pulled back just far enough to look into your eyes, a tiny, genuine smile playing on his lips.
"I'm making us lunch soon," he said, his tone shifting back to that cozy, domestic warmth. "Why don't you sit at the island and keep me company while I cook?"
He led you over to a tall barstool by the marble kitchen island, taking your hand to help you sit before walking around to the pantry. As his back turned, you looked out the vast floor-to-ceiling windows toward the dense forest surrounding the property, silently cementing your resolve.
He believed you. The long game had officially begun.
Three months had melted away in a blur of quiet routine, warm meals, and an unsettling kind of peace.
The dark, frantic desperation that had once consumed you—the burning need to escape, the secret plans to find a weakness—had slowly faded into distant background noise. Somewhere along the line, the boundary between acting and feeling had blurred until it dissolved completely.
You were sitting on the plush leather sofa in the living room, a soft blanket draped over your knees, reading a book as rain tapped rhythmically against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The dense, isolated forest outside no longer looked like a cage; it just felt like privacy.
"Cold?"
Sunoo’s soft voice broke your concentration. He walked over from the kitchen, holding two steaming mugs of cocoa topped with whipped cream. He wore an oversized cream cardigan, looking every bit the gentle, devoted companion he had promised to be.
He set the mugs on the coffee table, slipped under the blanket beside you, and pulled you close against his chest. Naturally, effortlessly, you leaned your head back against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh of contentment as his arm wrapped around your waist.
"Thank you," you murmured, reaching for your mug.
Sunoo smiled, pressing a light, lingering kiss to the crown of your head. His hand gently smoothed down your arm, his thumb tracing a slow circle over your wrist—the very place where leather straps had once bound you. There were no restraints now. No locked doors when he was home. He didn't need them anymore, and deep down, you both knew it.
"I love days like this," Sunoo whispered, his breath warm against your hairline. "Just the two of us, far away from everyone else."
You took a sip of the cocoa, the rich sweetness warming you up instantly. You looked over at his soft features, framed by the gentle light of the room, and realized with a sudden, faint pulse of shock that you weren't thinking about a key, or an open window, or the road beyond the trees.
You were just happy to be sitting next to him.
"Me too," you whispered, leaning further into his touch, completely surrendered to the life he had built for you.
Sunoo’s arm tightened around your waist, his grip possessive yet immeasurably soft. He let out a long, contented exhale, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as the sound of the falling rain filled the quiet house.
"You know," he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet, triumphant warmth, "when I first brought you here, I was so afraid you'd never see it. I thought I'd have to spend years waiting for you to realize how good we are together."
He lifted his hand, his slender fingers turning your chin so you were forced to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were luminous, fixed on you with a intense, unwavering adoration.
"Look at us now," he whispered, a brilliant, breathtaking smile spreading across his face. "You don't look at me with fear anymore. You look at me like you actually want to be here."
He leaned in, pressing a soft, slow kiss to your lips. It wasn't the urgent, desperate kiss of a captor trying to keep a prisoner inline, but something deeply intimate—a quiet celebration of your total surrender.
When he pulled back, his thumb brushed gently over your lower lip.
"I have a surprise for you," Sunoo said softly, his tone playful. He stood up, smoothing down his cardigan, and held his hand out to you. "Come upstairs with me."
You took his hand without a second thought, letting him guide you up the grand wooden staircase. He led you past the bedroom and down the hall toward the study—a room that had remained locked for the entire three months of your stay.
Sunoo pulled a small silver key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed it open.
Inside was a sunlit studio, complete with an easel, brand-new canvases, high-end paints, and an entire wall lined with books you had mentioned loving years ago in offhand conversations at the café. A large window looked out over the canopy of the forest, flooding the room with soft, natural light.
"You mentioned once how much you missed painting," Sunoo said, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, resting his chin against your cheek as you took in the room. "I bought everything you could possibly need. This is your space now. Our home is completely yours."
You stood in the doorway, staring at the thoughtful, lavish room built entirely around your forgotten desires, feeling the warm press of his body against yours.
You turned in his embrace, looking up at him with a chest full of an unsettlingly warm, heavy emotion.
The stalkerish precision of it—the fact that he had cataloged throwaway lines you had uttered years ago to strangers over a coffee counter—should have chilled you to the bone. Three months ago, it would have sent you into a spiraling panic. But now, filtered through the quiet, cozy isolation of the life he’d built for you, it felt entirely different.
It felt like being seen. In a world where you had always felt invisible, Sunoo had been paying absolute, unwavering attention.
"You remembered that?" you whispered, your voice thick with genuine emotion. "I... I only mentioned that once, ages ago."
Sunoo’s eyes softened, a faint, tender blush dusting his cheeks as he held your gaze. "I remember everything you’ve ever said," he murmured, his hands resting gently on your waist. "Every detail matters to me. I wanted you to have a space that was entirely yours, where you could feel inspired... and happy."
A tear pricked the corner of your eye, but this time, it wasn't out of fear or helplessness. It was out of a deep, overwhelming realization of how completely he had wrapped himself around your heart.
You raised your hands, cupping his face, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palms. Sunoo leaned into your touch instantly, his eyelids fluttering shut as he let out a soft, breathless sigh.
"Thank you, Sunoo," you whispered.
You leaned up and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was slow, tender, and lingering—a silent, unreserved surrender to the life you shared now. Sunoo wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you flush against him, kissing you back with a sweet, desperate devotion that left no room for the ghosts of who you used to be.
The soft, persistent hum of the rain against the glass seemed to blur the edges of the room, isolating the two of you in a warm, amber-lit sanctuary.
Sunoo’s breath hitched against your lips as the kiss deepened. His hands shifted from your waist, his slender fingers tracing a slow, lingering path up the small of your back beneath the oversized cardigan. Every place his skin brushed yours sent a quiet, electric shiver through your spine, washing away any remaining distance between you.
"Tell me this is real," Sunoo whispered against your neck, his lips pressing a series of soft, burning kisses along the line of your jaw. His hands pulled you closer, fitting your body flush against his until there wasn't a single inch of space left. "Tell me you don't want to run anymore."
"I'm not running," you breathed out, your hands tangling into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to meet your gaze.
A dark, intoxicating warmth flared in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, Sunoo slid his hands beneath your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the smooth edge of the wooden desk near the window. The contrast of the cool wood against your skin made you gasp softly, a sound that Sunoo caught with another deep, possessive kiss.
His cardigan slipped from his shoulders, falling to the floor unheeded. He stepped between your knees, his fingers undoing the hem of your shirt with deliberate, agonizing slowness, his thumb grazing the warm skin of your stomach as he leaned over you. The rain outside drummed a steady, hypnotic rhythm, completely drowned out by the heavy heat of the room and the quiet, breathless whisper of your names as the last barriers between you fell away.
The quiet room seemed to shrink until there was nothing left in the world except the heat of the fire, the rhythm of the rain outside, and the overwhelming closeness between you.
Sunoo moved with a slow, worshipful intensity, his hands tracing every curve of your body as if cementing the fact that you were finally, completely his. Every touch was a silent promise, every breathless whisper against your skin erasing the last lingering shadows of the past three months. The fear that had once defined your reality had bled out entirely, replaced by a deep, intoxicating surrender.
Afterward, the room fell into a heavy, peaceful stillness.
You lay together on the soft pile of rugs in front of the window, tangled in a maze of blankets. The cool gray light of the afternoon filtered through the rain-streaked glass, casting long, serene shadows across the studio.
Sunoo’s head rested on your chest, his dark hair fan-like across your skin. His hand was loosely clasped in yours, fingers intertwined, his thumb tracing delicate, rhythmic circles against your knuckles. His breathing was slow and even, heavy with the quiet satisfaction of a man who had secured everything he had ever wanted.
"I used to lie awake at night," Sunoo murmured softly, his voice thick with sleep, "just picturing what it would feel like to hold you like this... without you trying to pull away."
He raised his head slightly, resting his chin on your collarbone to look up at you, his eyes dark, soft, and utterly devoted.
"You're really mine now, aren't you?" he whispered, searching your face.
You looked down at him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair. The outside world felt like a distant, forgotten memory.
"Yes," you replied softly, the word slipping out effortlessly, without a single trace of hesitation. "I'm yours."
A breathtaking, radiant smile broke across Sunoo's face. He leaned up to press one last, gentle kiss to your lips before nestling back against your shoulder, pulling the blanket higher over both of you as you drifted into the quiet dusk together.
The weeks rolled on after that afternoon in the studio, each day seamlessly blending into the next. The initial sharp edges of your captive life had smoothed over entirely, leaving behind a tranquil, insulated world that Sunoo curated down to the smallest detail.
Every morning began the same way: the soft scent of freshly brewed coffee, Sunoo’s gentle kiss on your forehead before you even opened your eyes, and long, lazy mornings spent reading or painting in the studio while he worked downstairs in his office.
By autumn, the dense forest surrounding the estate turned into a vibrant expanse of crimson and gold. Sunoo had taken to leaving the back patio doors unlocked on warm afternoons, trusting you completely now. You would sit on the porch swing, wrapped in one of his heavy sweaters, watching the leaves drift down while he sat beside you, quiet and content just to be in your presence.
One rainy evening in late October, you were both sitting in the living room. Sunoo was stretched out on the sofa with his head resting in your lap while you idly ran your fingers through his hair. The crackle of the fireplace cast a golden glow across the quiet space.
"Sunoo?" you asked softly, breaking the cozy silence.
He opened his eyes, looking up at you with that familiar, adoration-filled gaze. "Hmm?"
"Do you ever miss... the outside world? Going out into the city, seeing people?"
Sunoo reached up, taking your free hand and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. A small, tranquil smile touched his lips.
"Not even for a second," he murmured, his voice thick with absolute certainty. "Everything I ever wanted from the world is right here in this room."
He shifted, turning onto his side to press his face into your stomach, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. You rested your hand over his back, feeling the steady, calming rise and fall of his breathing.
There were no more locks to check, no more plans to scheme, no more tears to shed in the dark. The world beyond the trees had ceased to exist, and in the warm, quiet sanctuary he had built for you, you finally felt completely at home.
────୨ৎ────
A year passed, marked only by the shifting colors of the forest outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
It was a snowy winter evening. The fireplace crackled softly, throwing warm, golden light across the living room. Outside, heavy white flakes drifted down through the dark pines, completely burying the faint tire tracks of the last delivery van that would ever come near the estate.
You stood by the window, a warm mug of tea cradled between your hands. Looking at your reflection in the glass, you barely recognized the guarded, terrified person who had arrived here in leather restraints. The sharp edges of your past life had been completely smoothed over, replaced by an easy, effortless peace.
Soft footsteps sounded behind you on the hardwood floor. Sunoo stepped up to your side, wrapping a heavy cashmere blanket around your shoulders before sliding his arms around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder, pulling you flush against his chest.
"What are you thinking about?" he whispered, his breath warm against your neck.
You leaned back into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder. "Just how quiet it is."
"It's perfect," Sunoo murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your throat. His grip tightened just a fraction—a gentle, permanent hold that no longer felt like a cage, but like an anchor. "Just you and me. Forever."
You turned slightly in his arms, looking into his dark, luminous eyes. There was no trace of hesitation left in your mind, no phantom urge to run, no longing for a world that had forgotten you anyway. You reached up, running your thumb over his cheekbone, and smiled.
"Forever," you repeated softly.
Sunoo smiled back, a radiant, triumphant expression that lit up his entire face. He leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, lingering kiss as the snow continued to fall outside, sealing the quiet, beautiful world he had built for you—and the life you had willingly chosen to stay in.
Genuinely my first time making Sunoo, I wanted all the members to shine in their own way for my fics so I really hope you enjoyed!
Been feeling so pretty because i bought some new clothes and ive been doing make-up!! Maybe i will post something tonight just because :)) (it might be that Sunghoon scenario i teased the other day)
The cemetery is brutally quiet. It’s the kind of silence that doesn't feel peaceful—it just feels empty.
Y/N stands at the edge of the grass, the hem of Sunghoon’s oversized grey hoodie blowing slightly in the air. She’s wearing it. She wears it everywhere now. The fabric has lost almost all of its expensive lavender fabric softener scent.
The headstone is neat. It has his name carved into it in a clean, minimalist font that she knows he would have approved of.
PARK SUNGHOON
"You really picked a scenic spot," Y/N whispers, her voice cracking. She drops to her knees on the grass, completely uncaring of the mud staining her jeans. "You always liked a good view. Smug bastard."
She tries to laugh, but it turns into a jagged, suffocating sob that catches in her throat. She presses her palms against the cold stone, wishing with every fiber of her being that the granite would warm up, that it would turn into a broad shoulder, a sharp jawline, a hand reaching out to flick her forehead and tell her she’s being dramatic.
"Y/N?"
A soft, fragile voice breaks through the quiet. Y/N flinches, wiping her face hastily with the oversized sleeves of the hoodie as she turns around.
Sunghoon’s mother is standing a few paces back. She looks like she’s aged ten years in a fortnight. Her eyes are hollow, her shoulders smaller than Y/N remembers. In her hands, she’s clutching a small, black velvet jewelry pouch—the exact one Y/N remembers seeing on Sunghoon’s desk a lifetime ago.
"Oh, Mrs. Park," Y/N breathes, scrambling to her feet. "I'm sorry, I can leave if you wanted some time alone with—"
"No, no, stay. Please," his mother says, her voice trembling as she steps forward. She forces a small, heartbreaking smile, her eyes dropping to the grey hoodie swallowing Y/N’s frame. "He... he wanted you to have this. He made me promise to give it to you after the funeral, but I... I needed a few days to find the strength to givr it to you."
She presses the small velvet pouch into Y/N’s hands. Inside, something small and heavy shifts against the fabric.
"There’s a note inside," his mother whispers, her hand lingering on Y/N’s cheek for a second, cold and shaking. "He spent three hours writing it, Y/N. His hands were shaking so badly toward the end, he could barely hold the pen. But he wouldn't let me help him. He said it had to be his own handwriting."
Before Y/N can say anything, his mother gently pats her arm and walks away, leaving her alone with the quiet, the headstone, and the pouch.
Y/N’s fingers are trembling so hard she can barely loosen the drawstring. When she pulls the contents out, the first thing that falls into her palm is the silver ring. The Roman numerals engraved on the inside catch the faint afternoon sunlight.
And then, folded into a tight, neat square at the bottom of the pouch, is a piece of lined notebook paper. Y/N unfolds it slowly.
To the girl in the camo crocs,
if my mom actually did what she was told, you’re holding this ring right now. don’t put it away. put it on. it belongs on your left hand. it always did.
i know you hate me right now. or at least, i hope you do. if you’re reading this and you’re still crying over me, then i failed. i spent the last three months trying to be the villain in your story because i couldn’t bear the thought of being the tragedy.
i remember everything, y/n. i remember the exact coffee shop where we met. i remember the way you look when you’re trying not to laugh at a bad joke. i remember how your hand felt in mine during the winter—you always complained that my hands were like ice, but you never let go anyway.
the night i broke up with you, i sat in my car outside your apartment for four hours. i watched your bedroom light go off. i had the phone in my hand, ready to call you, ready to tell you that i was scared, that i was dying, that i needed you to hold me. but then i thought about your future. i thought about you sitting in a hospital waiting room, watching a heart monitor dictate whether you could breathe that day.
i couldn't do that to you. i loved you too much to destroy your twenties with my ghost.
remember the night at jay’s apartment? when you fell asleep on the armchair? i didn’t leave the grey hoodie on the couch by accident, y/n. i put it over you myself. i stood there for ten minutes just watching you breathe, terrified that it would be the last time i’d ever see you look so peaceful.
i whispered 'i love you' into your hair. you muttered something back. you were half-asleep, and you said: "i know, hoon. i love you more." my heart broke right then. the physical pain of it failing was nothing compared to how much it hurt to know i had to leave you.
i’m writing this from a bed i’m probably not getting out of. my lungs burn. my chest feels like it’s being crushed. but my mind is completely full of you. it’s always been you. three years wasn't enough. thirty years wouldn't have been enough.
be brave for me. let me go, but keep the ring. it’s pure sterling. it won't fade. just like me.
yours, until my heart stopped.
sunghoon.
The wind kicks up, rustling the leaves overhead.
Y/N stands alone in the grass, the note crumpled tightly against her chest as a horrific, guttural sound tears out of her throat. It’s a scream of pure grief, the kind that physically fractures something inside your ribs.
She slides the silver ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. It’s cold against her skin, a permanent reminder of the boy who spent his final breaths forcing her to hate him, just so she wouldn't have to feel the exact agony that is currently tearing her apart.
Y/N sinks lower into the mud, burying her face into the collar of his grey hoodie, inhaling the faint, disappearing scent of lavender, and realizes that Sunghoon won. He got exactly what he wanted. He saved her from the hospital bed.
But as she stares at his name carved into the stone, her finger gripping the ring, she realizes the ultimate, devastating truth.
He didn't save her from the trauma. He just made her carry it alone.
isa: and with this… this smau comes to an end >w< hope you all enjoyed it or at least enjoyed suffering through it LOL ^^ finally my first real angst and knowing it actually made you feel emotional and even cry a little… that was worth it. >< thank you for sticking with me through the fever delays, the writers block, and all the emotional damage *sobs* i love you guys. don't forget to hydrate and maybe read something fluffy to recover ^^ 🥹
THE FRIENDLIEST NEIGHBOR 🕸 a series of spider!jake stories
starring: jake sim as spider-man
synopsis: where jake is handed a power he never asked for, and has to learn — the hard way — that it comes with a cost. that the weight of it isn't just his to carry, not when there are people who'd bleed for loving him.
author's note: am i starting a new series? yes. do i have a bunch of other things i still need to work on? also yes. this was lowk such a pain to write bc i wanted to do so much but i didn't know how to connect my ideas so i just decided to make them separate stories altogether . i've decided to experiment a little with these stories , so i genuinely hope you enjoy reading them as much i had fun writing them <33
[the archive]
taglist: @angelhyuka (taglist is open <3)
⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀ ͏ ⠀✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧
EPISODE 01: ALL WEBBED-UP
RELEASE DATE: coming soon
WHERE jake seems so sad for a spider-man so in love...
wc: ~7k, genre: fluff, angst, lots of yearner!jake
content warnings: tba
please do not repost, reupload, or translate my work anywhere else on the internet. i also do not approve uploading my work on any ai site. salamuch <33
Summary: Your relationship with Jungwon comes in hotel rooms and behind closed doors, where it's just the two of you who love each other with much tenderness. While in the outside world, the two of you are destined to be rivals due to your family's long-term rivalry when it comes to being the top corporation in your country. But when secrets are starting to spill, and meet-ups are getting harder to do so; you and Jungwon must face the world and prove that what you two have is real.
Sixth installment of Big reputations series.
✰ Song inspirations: Dancing with our hands tied by Taylor swift, Born to die by Lana del rey, Out of the woods by Taylor swift
✰ Word count: 19.6k
✰ Tags: CEO au, forced rivals au, secret relationships, established relationships, aged-up characters (they’re in their mid-twenties,) kinda star-crossed lovers, ceo! Yang jungwon, ceo! Reader, fluff, angst, misunderstandings, reader has some deep trust issues, they’re just so madly, deeply in love with each other, betrayal, family drama, minor violence somewhere, scandals. Mentions of kpop idols.
✰ CW: plot with porn, p in v sex, softdom! Jungwon, riding, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (lol no pls), cumming inside, praise, kinda public sex (restroom), fingering, petnames. I might miss a lot of tags lol but this is just pure filth lol idk shitty smut ig???
✰ Asul's note: we’re down to the second to the last story of the series!!! I hope you’d enjoy this one because I had a hard time writing this one. Also eyeballed everything so inaccuracies ahead, don't ask if i did research, i'm just here for the relationship with conflict trope lol. not proofread by the way.
Yang Jungwon entered the hotel lobby as if he owned the place.
He had his head held high while his posture stood proud. Everyone’s eyes were on him, every single one inside the lobby was awed by his visuals and presence but Jungwon remained unbothered. He approached the receptionist casually before giving her a smile — flirty and dimpled that the receptionist fawned immediately.
“Good afternoon Mr. Yang, the suite’s waiting for you, Mr. Kim had informed me about your last-minute booking, and I assure you that you’d get your usual room,” she said brightly before handing the keycard to Jungwon as she fluttered her eyelashes.
“Thank you so much, Ms. Ahn, it’s nice to see you here,” Jungwon said with a wink, making the woman giggle shyly.
“You’re too kind, enjoy your stay Mr. Yang,” with that, Jungwon gave her a wave one last time before going towards the elevator hall.
The man pressed the button and patiently waited for the elevator to go down. The hall wasn’t crowded compared to the lobby. There were a few people around but it was enough for Jungwon to be discreet, even clearing his throat as he brushed the stray dust on his coat.
Suddenly, his ears caught the gentle footsteps approaching him. That’s when he felt his heart stopping and breath hitching. Jungwon glanced at his watch as if he was looking at his watch, pretending that he’s not bothered by the person who stood beside him.
“Oh, Mr. Yang, it's a pleasure to see you here,” but all his act melted the moment he heard your voice. His smile formed unknowingly as Jungwon could feel his cheeks heating up and heart racing rapidly before he turned to his left casually with a gentle smile.
As his eyes met yours, his smile became wider along with his dimples that turned deep. Too lovestruck to notice all this sudden shift. “Ms. l/n, it’s nice to see you too. Here for a meeting?”
Your lips pursed before a small chuckle left your lips, “yes, apparently. A very important person I must say. How about you?” you lied casually as you fiddle the keycard around your hands.
“Same here with me.” And just in time, the elevator rang and opened. Both you and Jungwon entered the elevator without a word. Then, the door closed in an instant and you pressed the highest floor button.
Jungwon didn’t say anything. He turned his head towards you who cleared her throat before looking in the opposite direction while the elevator slowly went up. The silence was tense, quiet yet suffocating. Your heart was pounding loudly as you could feel Jungwon’s eyes never leaving you. You closed your eyes, attempting to relax when you felt someone standing too close on your side.
“You’re too near, Mr. Yang,” you muttered under your breath.
“It’s just the two of us here, Ms. l/n,” a gasp escaped your lips when you felt his hands trailing on your waist until it reached the curve of your butt, giving it a squeeze and two.
“Pervert,” you mumbled before slapping his hands away, making Jungwon laugh before he leaned against the wall.
“This elevator’s too slow,” Jungwon said, eyeing the screen where every second, the elevator’s slowly going up.
“You’re an impatient man.”
“Of course I am,” and before you could react, Jungwon had pushed against the wall, trapping you in between his arms before he leaned on for a kiss.
You kissed him back without any thoughts, giggling against his lips like it’s the most natural thing you could do. His soft, lustrous lips tasted like peach, sweet and addictive that you couldn’t help but to bite his lower lips, receiving a groan from him who despite that, smirked at your move.
The elevator suddenly felt hotter as you two continued making out recklessly, not caring about the cameras recording your scandalous act as you two seemed to be in your own world until the ride stopped and Jungwon broke away from the kiss.
“We’re here,” he whispered before he pulled you out of the elevator. You didn’t complain anymore but instead, the smile on your lips became wider, letting your lover lead the way to his hotel room.
As soon as the doors have locked and it’s just the two of you inside, Jungwon’s lips crashed onto yours once again — eager and hungry before he started to undress himself, without breaking the kiss.
You did the same with yours. Unbuttoning your blouse with haste, removing your ponytail and letting your hair fall down before you held onto Jungwon’s shoulders, never leaving his mouth as both clothes started to fall to the floor.
“I miss you,” Jungwon said in between, making you stop and chuckle as you stared at him fondly.
“We saw each other last week,” you pointed out before a small yelp escaped your lips when Jungwon carried you towards the huge, soft bed of the suite.
Placing you down gently, your heart was filled with anticipation as your lover crawled over you. His lips were stained with your lipstick, while his hair was all over the place as he stared at you like a predator — far from the sophisticated and well-respected Yang Jungwon, currently chief executive officer of the Eden group of companies.
That same goes to you who’s left with nothing but her undergarments, hair sprawled at the soft, cotton duvet as your eyes were only gazing on the person on top of you.
“Well, it couldn’t help when I miss you, so fucking much,” Jungwon admitted as his hands traveled at the soft plush of your stomach downwards the waistband of your stockings and panties, making him smirk.
“You’re going to ruin me, aren’t you?” you asked, almost breathless yet adrenaline rushed as you could feel Jungwon fidget with the tight cloth on your thighs.
“You know me damn well, sweetheart,” Jungwon answered teasingly before he tore your stockings using his bare hands.
A small moan escaped your lips as Jungwon started planting kisses on your exposed skin, slow and careful as his lips worshipped your thighs until he stopped in front of your cunt. He glanced at you for a second and immediately, you nodded, giving him the signal to push your panties aside and leave you bare in front of him.
The last thing you heard was a curse coming out of Jungwon’s lips before he started ruining you, making you melt under his touch as he tasted every skin and slick on your wet cunt. The room was filled with nothing but the sultry moans escaping on your lips while Jungwon continued to devour your pussy like it was his last meal on earth.
“Fuck — Jungwon,” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair while Jungwon focused on your clit, sucking the bud before inserting a finger inside your cunt. The sudden sensation felt overwhelming that your back arched naturally simultaneously moaning your lover’s name out loud.
“Fuck, say my name again,” Jungwon ordered and you complied. You screamed his name loud and clear. Repeating it numerous times like a mantra, knowing damn well that the walls of the suite were thick and soundproof that only you and Jungwon could hear how he makes you writhe under his tongue.
Because only you and Jungwon could know what’s happening inside the suite. It’s only the two of you who know the bliss of your skins making contact with each other, filled with warmth, and pleasure that’s too addictive yet forbidden.
Your relationship with Jungwon has always been like this — and it should stay this way. In hotel rooms and hushed conversations. Secret, hidden, wherein it’s just the two of you and no one should know. Of course, no one should know because you two are destined to be enemies in the first place.
Call yourselves modern-day Romeo and Juliet, but your families have had a constant rivalry ever since both companies were established. Everything comes down to money, connections, and power — and most of all, pride. It became a competition turned into rivalry. It wasn’t just a friendly rivalry, it involved political movement, scandals, and even dirty schemes. This on-going dispute has been passed down by generations until it reaches you and Jungwon.
Unlike in Shakespeare's play, you and Jungwon weren’t young and stupid when you both unknowingly fell in love with each other. The love story began in a simple way — college. It always feels nostalgic to think about it. You and Jungwon were classmates in a lot of course subjects given that both of you have the same college program.
Then, it came — getting assigned together for a project. It seemed like destiny was making a way for you two to talk to each other.
You two had your walls high at first but as time passed-by, you realised that the only son of the Yang family wasn’t a cocky bastard who has narcissistic tendencies, and Jungwon realized that the Kingsmark heiress wasn’t a spoiled brat who’s a perfectionist that it’s sickening. First impressions got out of the way and friendship bloomed from there.
But somewhere in your friendship, something grew deeper — something forbidden yet, irresistible. It made you scared at first, knowing that you fell for an enemy out of all the people you could love. Still, despite your fear, you couldn’t ignore it especially when it’s Jungwon who could only make you feel that way.
That’s why you confessed. You took the risk to tell your feelings to your supposed mortal enemy and to your luck, Jungwon reciprocated your love naturally. Just like you, Jungwon, unknowingly fell for you too. He didn’t expect it nor tried to deny it. For the man, it just happened, and he couldn’t do anything about it except to accept it.
Love sparked that day and ever since then, you risk your life just to meet up with Jungwon — and so did he.
Late-night sneak-outs, wearing covers while out on a date, the hotel room meetups, and hushed conversations during public events. You didn’t hate the setup, you just got used to it, knowing that it’s impossible for you and Jungwon to be together in public.
You lost track of how long your relationship with Jungwon has been going on. All you know was that it has become a part of your routine to meet him, one way or another, and as long as Jungwon’s not giving up on you, you’re not going to give up on him either.
As cliche as it may sound, no one knows you better than Jungwon. He had memorized every inch of you, knew your deepest secrets and fears that even your family doesn’t have a single clue about. He was your secret, and yet, it never felt like just a secret.
Jungwon — you may consider him as your home too.
Because the moment he kissed you, soft and gentle, held you careful and light like you were made of porcelain glass, you’re convinced that no one could ever care and love you like he would.
“You’re with me?” Jungwon asked, seeing you quiet and in daze after your love making. Both naked under the sheets, the time seemed to have passed by so quickly that it’s already late at night. You’ve lost track of the amount of times you two did it, and yet, the euphoric feeling still lingered on your body.
“Just tired,” you answered and you heard Jungwon’s soft chuckle before he kissed your forehead.
“Did I tire you out?”
You chuckled at his question, “You’re a monster in bed, Yang Jungwon.”
“Couldn’t help it when it’s you who I am fucking good.” he teased back.
An exchange of laughter escaped both of you before you pulled him close to you. Jungwon hovered over you as your lips locked into each other once again, deep, senseless as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Again?” he whispered and that made you let out a sigh in relief.
“Again,” you answered with a smile before you pushed him down to the mattress and straddled against his lap.
“Thought I tired you out?” he teased before smacking your bare ass. You flinched at the pain and yet the impact only made your core wetter than as at the same time, you could feel Jungwon’s semi-hard cock against your cunt.
“I thought so too,” you said breathless as you started grinding against his cock, making it hard and wet with your slick. Breathy moans started escaping your lips due to the sensation, rocking your body harder and more eager.
Jungwon watched as you lifted your hips before aligning your entrance on the fat head of his cock. Sucking your breath in, you slowly sink down, feeling your cunt getting stretched wide by just the sheer size of Jungwon’s cock.
Sitting all the way down, you could feel your pussy full to the end. Taking deep breaths, your hands landed on Jungwon’s stomach for balance, moving your hips closely while your lover watched you shift on his lap, amused at how you didn’t hurry yourself immediately but instead, find time to adjust at his size, moving slow rolls and grinds around his cock.
“Go on baby, you’re doing good,” Jungwon said as his hands traveled on your waist, guiding you to roll around his cock. His eyes never left yours who had her head thrown back, breathy whines leaving your lips as you started moving faster.
From your rolls and grinds, you lifted your hips and started bouncing on his cock. Finding your pace, you move more hastily and sloppily as you could hear the wet slap on your skin against Jungwon’s hips.
It urged you more to sink into him deeper, wanton moans started escaping your lips as you bounced on his cock harder. It didn’t help that your lover’s hold on you tightened, even helping you ram yourself on his cock.
“Jungwon —” you called his name again, a more eager plea as your body moved on its own. Fucking yourself on his cock continuously, you find yourself drowsy at the high of the act. It’s becoming too addictive that your body moves on its own. Your pace becomes faster, more rushed as you’re chasing after that high that comes within.
“Keep going baby — fuck! Look at you, is my cock fucking you good?” he teased and you nodded frantically. His words pushed you further, the feeling of his cock splitting your walls apart was too hard to ignore — especially when you could feel something churning inside your stomach.
Jungwon could feel your pussy tightening against the cock, that’s when his grip tightened, fingers digging on your soft skin, making you mewl in pain and yet, you didn’t stop bouncing on his cock like a whore.
“I’m gonna — c-cum —” you said, almost inaudible as your fingers made scratches around his stomach, making his pale skin red as you drowned yourself in the sensation.
“Look at me baby, want to see you fall apart,” your glassy eyes met his sharp ones. A sultry sigh escaped your lips before you leaned downwards Jungwon for a kiss. Your hands got a hold of his face, squeezing it tightly as your lips battled against each other. Messy and wet kisses splattered around your mouth as Jungwon slides his tongue inside yours, earning a choked moan from you.
You broke out of the kiss first, focusing on your hips as your orgasm slowly built up and in a snap, your orgasm came along with pussy clamping around Jungwon. You came in silence, fingernails scratching Jungwon’s chest as your hips continued moving on its own, grinding against your lover’s hard, twitching cock.
That’s when a series of breathy groans started to leave Jungwon’s mouth. You knew that he was on the edge, hence, you started moving further, despite still being sensitive from your first orgasm, you ignored how you spasmed at every grind you made, because all you could think of was to make Jungwon come.
“Baby —”
“You’re near right? Want to see you cum baby — hngh — you look so pretty laying down there for me,” you moaned as your nails pressed further down on his skin. Finding balance on his sturdy chest while you continued your movement.
“Ruin me baby, want to see my girl make me cum —” in a loud, guttural groan, Jungwon reaches his high, snapping his hips upwards as he releases his load inside you, filthy, thick, and hot spurts of cum fill you enough to be satisfied by it. You bite your lips at the warmth, rolling your hips slowly around him as you continue to milk your lover’s cock dry.
The room fell into silence. You find yourself weary before you remove yourself from Jungwon, laying next to him who seemed exhausted from the act.
“Are you hungry?” he asked out of nowhere. Arms wrapped around you as he pulled you close.
You shook your head as answer, eyes closed as you snuggle yourself on his chest, letting your body be dirty and sweaty for a moment as you leaned closer to Jungwon.
“I love you,” Jungwon blurted out of nowhere.
You hummed, opening your eyes to look at him. “I love you too.” you kissed him once again, and Jungwon responded without any thoughts. This time, the kiss was slow, gentle, and just an act of pure love for each other.
But your sweet moment was interrupted by a loud knock on the door — separating you two in a second. The two of you glanced at the direction before a series of knock echoed inside. That’s when Jungwon stood up and grabbed the folded robe nearby.
“It’s just probably Sunoo,” Jungwon said as he clothed himself and went towards the door. He looked at the door viewer for a second and from the tiny gap, Jungwon let out a deep chuckle before opening the door, revealing a man who seemed unpleasant with the situation.
“I need to talk to the two of you,” Sunoo started, arms crossed as he stared at his best friend who seemed to be still in a post-nut clarity.
“Wanna join us?” Jungwon jokingly suggested but he was only met with a disgusted stare by his best friend. Sunoo walked strutted inside the suite, not caring about you who’s nude under the sheet and directly went towards the table, took the champagne bottle, opened it, and without any hesitation, drank straight from the bottle.
“Hey, that’s under my tab,” Jungwon complained but Sunoo continued drinking, almost finishing it halfway before placing it back. You only watched in amusement at their banters while you lay lazily on the bed.
“I really appreciate that you guys have become my patron here but this is getting suspicious,” Sunoo lectured.
Contrary to the belief that no one knows about your secret relationship. There’s only one person who you and Jungwon had trusted with the secret, and that was Kim Sunoo, Jungwon’s childhood friend who happens to own the hotel building that became your escape.
“We’re being discreet,” you stated, but Sunoo wasn’t convinced.
“Right, making out in the elevator is fucking discreet,” Sunoo sarcastically commented. “What I’m trying to say is, auntie’s getting suspicious, Jungwon.”
By the mention of his mother, Jungwon’s teasing smile faded. He turned serious as he stood next to Sunoo, arms crossed.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s here, looking for you,” Sunoo answered, and your eyes widened at his sentence. “She’s currently in my office, I told them you just left, but they aren’t convinced.”
“And your solution was to go here?” Jungwon raised an eyebrow.
“I told her I am meeting an important client and I don’t have time to entertain her questions since I’m too busy managing here,” Sunoo explained. “She was persistent that you were meeting someone here and I am hiding it, which is true though.”
“She wanted to marry me off, that’s why,” Jungwon shared and that was the first that you heard of that problem. Jungwon seemed to be unbothered by it but your worry started to grow.
“I know, she keeps on telling me that one, she wanted you to settle down and not, “whore around,”” Sunoo warned, emphasising the last two words. “If you two value your relationship, then you should be more discreet.”
“We’ve been doing this for years, we’ll be fine,” Jungwon assured but Sunoo wasn’t convinced.
“It’s going to be much harder now Won, especially when you two have taken over your company, the whole world’s watching the two of you.” his best friend advised.
“Thank you Sunoo, we’ll try to be more discreet,” you butted in, giving the man a nod before you gave Jungwon a quick glance and assuring smile. “I think we should lessen our meetups here in Sunoo’s hotel, I don’t want to trouble you too.”
“No, it’s fine y/n, but just be careful, friendly advice,” Sunoo advised before glancing at his watch. “I should be going now, I’ll let you know if auntie has left.”
“Thanks Sunoo,” that was the only thing Jungwon could say, not having the energy to argue with his best friend who’s only looking after him.
Sunoo had left that moment, leaving you two in silence. Jungwon let out a deep sigh as he turned around to check on you.
But you only smiled and patted the bed, gesturing for him to return who did as what you told.
“Does it scare you?” he asked, sitting next to you with his hands open.
Instead of a worried expression, you gave him a smile before intertwining your hands around his. “A little, just scared that my parents might disown me.”
“If they ever do that to you, I’ll be here, don’t worry,” Jungwon assured.
You laughed at his answer, “even if it means losing our fortune and everything?”
“Of course,” he answered without any hesitation. From there, Jungwon gave you a kiss on the temples before he made you rest your head on his shoulders. “Nothing in this world could be more valuable than your love.”
“Our love,” you corrected and your lover only laughed.
“Of course, our love.” he said lightheartedly before kissing your head once again.
It felt right.
It always felt right with Jungwon. Even though it is behind closed doors, everything about your relationship and soft, intimate moments felt right for you. It’s just your intuition and your guts has always been right, that’s why you sweep your worries away.
The whole world might go into a shock when they’ve realized that you had fallen in love with her rival, but that’s your future self’s worry.
As of now, all you wanted was to be in the arms of the man you’ve ever loved — truly, deeply, and madly.
-
On days that you aren’t on your secret rendezvous with Jungwon, you’re stuck in your office, doing what a good CEO does when it comes to leading a decades-long top corporation that probably holds a percentage in your country’s economy.
It wasn’t an easy thing to do at all. You were just starting and you weren’t fully handling everything at all. Your parents are still guiding you, and even though you have the title and everything, most of the company decisions still fully come in power through them.
“You’ve done a great job securing the deal with the Wei tech corp,” your father said proudly.
“It was just nothing dad, just a little convincing and gift worked, I’ve learned from the best after all,” you said with a wink and both your parents were delighted with your reply.
“Oh, my sweet baby, we knew that it was right that you’d inherit this company,” your mother said softly before giving you a hug and kiss. “You’d do better than us, I know that you’d be able to overthrow Eden group in no time.”
At the mention of the said corporation, your stomach felt sour yet your heart skipped a beat.
“Mom, that again? I thought we’re over that,” you complained. Ever since you became head of Kingsmark, that’s the only thing you’ve heard from them — they wanted you to beat Eden group.
“This isn’t over y/n, you know that,” your father sternly said. “Not until we watch them crumble and be ruined, this isn’t over.”
“That’s so childish,” you commented.
“It’s not childish y/n, that’s just how business works, and you should know this alright?” your mother advised. “You’re still young and soft sweetheart, people will take advantage of your kindness. That’s why you should be careful and be wary of those who you call friends.”
Her advice gave nothing but chills on your spine. You looked at your mother who stared at you meaningly. You don’t know what she meant but you slowly nodded, like a good daughter would.
“Of course ma, don’t worry about me,” you convinced, even faking a smile to assure them.
“Great, I heard that Ms. Nakamura will be attending Mr. Han’s project launch, you’re invited there right?” your father asked and you nodded once again.
“Make sure you’d be able to swoon Ms. Nakamura on investing in Kingsmark, they’re a bigshot company in Japan, this will be a huge deal to us. Can I trust you with this one y/n?” he instructed.
“Of course pa, I won’t let you down,” you said with a smile, yet your heart felt heavy at the thought. The immense pressure suddenly washed over you.
You watched as they left your office and the moment the door closed, you felt how your shoulder slouched before leaning against your office chair. Feeling a headache coming right through, you stood up from your seat to get a glass of water when your phone lit up.
sheep calling.
The notification made you smile. Suddenly, your mood wasn’t that bad anymore before you. Grabbed your phone and answered the call without any thoughts.
“I don’t think it is appropriate for you to call me at this hour,” you opened as soon as the call got in line. Your tone filled with teasing that the voice behind the line laughed.
“Is it bad that I am missing you?” Jungwon asked.
“It is bad that you’re missing me during office hours, I thought we aren’t allowed to call during office hours?” you lectured sternly but Jungwon only hummed.
“Well, it’s been what? Two weeks since we last saw each other and to be honest, this is killing me,” he explained, and you smiled softly, knowing that it also kills you that you haven’t seen Jungwon that long.
“What are you trying to imply?” you asked.
“That we should meet this Saturday,” he replied immediately — which meant that he had been planning this for a while.
“I can't, I’ll be at Mr. Han’s project launch, did you get an invitation?”
You noticed how Jungwon became quiet for a moment before answering. “Oh that, I didn’t.”
“That’s a shame, maybe Sunday would work,” you suggested.
“Or maybe I’d pick you up there after the event,” Jungwon teased and though it sounded sweet to be picked-up by your boyfriend, you know that it’s just a scandal waiting to happen.
“You’re being brave and stupid by doing that Jungwon.”
“But you’d like it,” he insisted and your smile became wider.
“Unfortunately, I’d do.”
“I’ll surprise you then,” before you could ask what he meant, the call ended. Your heart dropped at that moment, wondering and curious about what’s up to Jungwon’s sleeve this upcoming Saturday.
-
True to his words, the next time you saw Yang Jungwon was at Mr. Han’s project launch at a reception hall in an expensive hotel outside the city.
The event was a private one. Strictly through invitations, that’s why it wasn’t that crowded when you entered the hall. You wore a vintage navy blue gown along with some sapphire set that you’ve inherited from your grandmother. People were turning heads towards you but you chose to ignore them as you focused on your target.
“Ms. Nakamura, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I am Ms. l/n —”
“From Kingsmark? It’s a shame for me to not know you, and please, call me Kazuha,” she said with a smile. Kazuha was approachable and friendly. Offering you a small chat and talk along with a glass of wine.
Your conversation with her turned almost hours long. You were with her almost the duration of the event and you’ve noticed that she was interested in your future plans and projects which was ideal since her company’s going to play a crucial part as a new supplier and investor. This might turn into a multi-million deal if you had won her heart by the end of the night.
“I am glad you had approached me Ms. l/n or else I’d die here from boredom,” she said jokingly before taking a sip on her wine once again. “I would like to talk to you more but let me go to the restroom first.”
“Of course, do you want more wine?” you offered, and she only gave you a smile before rejecting the offer, insisting that she doesn’t want to get too drunk by the end of the night which you understood.
As Kazuha left for the restroom, you decided to kill time by approaching the nearby grazing table that made your stomach growled. Grabbing a small plate, you started to fill it up with random finger foods when you noticed someone doing the same as you.
“Mr. Yang, it’s a surprise to see you here,” you said, not batting an eye as you focused on the delicacies on the table.
“Last minute plans, turns out my secretary did receive the invitation but forgot to inform me,” he explained casually.
You hummed to his answer, eyes still on the table as you spoke. “Well, it looks like you still came prepared despite the short time.”
“I had to impress you, by the way, nice dress Ms. l/n, it suits you and your proportions,” he whispered to you while he busied himself on taking a few finger food.
“Vintage Yves Saint-Laurent, your suit and tie seemed ravishing,” you commented back.
“Prada, custom-made for me,” he smiled. “But you know what Ms. l/n, I think your vintage yves saint-laurent would look better on the floor of my hotel room.”
“I am unconvinced," you said but a smile on your face curved because of his words.
“Oh come y/n, no one would probably know that we’d disappear,” Jungwon persuaded, tone less formal and more playful. “Just an hour.”
“And why should I come to your hotel room Mr. Yang?” you raised an eyebrow.
But he only smiled at you, gazing at your dress as he shifted it to your eyes. “Because you love me, and you’re getting the best dick of your life.”
That made you scoff. “Such vulgar words for a formal event.”
“I couldn’t be any more vulgar when it comes to you.” he then took a step closer to you. “How about we make it quick? Meet me in the restroom? Fifteen minutes?”
“Now, you’re risking more of exposing our relationship,” you insisted.
“Come on, you like the thrill, don’t you?”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
“There’s a restroom at the back of the corner hallway, I’ll wait for you for ten minutes,” Jungwon instructed, placing down the plate on the side before giving your back a small pat.
With his last words, Jungwon left you there frozen for a moment. You watched as he disappeared into the crowd and left the reception, turning to a small hallway which you assumed was the corner hallway. Your mind went blank as the hold on your plate tightened.
This is a private event. This place is filled with people who know you and Jungwon as rivals. One may notice that you two are gone — or maybe someone might have seen you enter the same hallway Jungwon entered. You don’t even know if someone noticed your conversation earlier.
It’s a risk. That’s your first thought. It was indecent to do something vulgar at a private event and in public too. Those were things you and Jungwon would avoid but it made you wonder why Jungwon would suggest that.
Perhaps he just misses you so much, and unfortunately, you’re a weak woman. Your heart folded immediately as you placed down the plate before checking if someone could notice you, you squeezed yourself in the crowd and found the corner hallway where no one seemed to be paying attention.
Your heart started pounding like crazy. Your conscience’s screaming at you — you should be back in the venue, convincing Ms. Nakamura to be one of the head investors of Kingsmark’s upcoming project. This is unnecessary — but it will be quick. You insisted as you took a deep breath and opened the door. Leaning against the wall was Jungwon, arms crossed with a small smirk on his face.
“You’re here,” he said teasingly. “You really can’t resist me, don’t you —”
“Fifteen minutes Jungwon,” you told him as you entered and locked the door before facing him. “Let’s make this quick.”
He whistled low, looking at you with tease before his arms wrapped around your waist. “Let’s make it thirty.”
Jungwon kissed you hungrily, teeth clashing, tongue battling as he pushed you against the wall. The small thud sound only made him ferocious. He kissed you as if he was dying, eager for your warmth as his lips traveled downwards your jawline, until it reached your neck making you groan in pleasure, throwing your head to give him space while Jungwon continued kissing every skin his mouth could reach.
“No marks please Won, just — wanted to feel you inside me,” you whispered to him who halted to look at you.
“Of course, whatever my baby wants, she’ll get it,” he said quickly with a smile, giving you a short yet sweet kiss on the lips.
Jungwon put you down immediately before he dragged you towards the sink, turning you around and bending you against the marbled surface — that’s when your heart began to ring in anticipation.
“No prep baby?” he asked as he hoisted up your dress, creasing the expensive garment which you didn’t mind. Your mind’s melting because of what’s about to happen. It also didn’t help that Jungwon’s hands trailed on the curve of your ass giving it a light smack making you moan sharply.
“Jungwon please,” you whine, pulling your panties down on your own, revealing your bare self to him. But your lover only chuckled in response, before his hands found their way towards your entrance, making you moan loudly on his touch.
“We got to be quiet, baby, could you do that? We don’t want them to hear how much of a whore you are to your enemy, don’t we?” he whispered to you, voice deep and teasing that you could only nod feverishly as you bite your lips in order to conceal all the obscene noises that might come out of your mouth.
Despite his warning, a sharp, breathy moan escaped your lips the moment Jungwon pushed his slender finger inside you. He could feel your hot, pulsing walls clamping around his finger as your slick slathered around it. He hummed in satisfaction as he began pumping his finger in and out before inserting another one to prep you further.
“Spread your legs wider for me baby, could you?” he asked, and although you’re shaky, you spread your legs further while he hoisted you further up to the sink, almost tiptoeing against the marbled vanity. You couldn’t do anything but to grip onto the surface while Jungwon continued scissoring your insides.
His fingers rapid, abusing your insides that made you shudder and moan helplessly. You clamped your mouth shut as your eyes turned glassy, and yet, a muffled cry escaped your lips when you felt Jungwon’s finger curl at a specific spot. You heard how he chuckled to your reaction as his finger brushed against that spot nonstop. Wanton moans started leaving your lips while the tears started to trail down your eyes.
“W-won — ah! Won, I’m c-close please,” you begged, feeling the tension inside you heating up. Everything’s becoming too sensitive as your pussy starts to clamp tight around Jungwon’s fingers.
“Please what baby?” he asked teasingly.
“Let me cum please?” you whispered
“Oh baby, you’d get to cum,” he said but in a split second, he removed his fingers and you cried at the sudden loss.
That’s when you heard a metal clanking and from the mirror, you see how Jungwon freed his cock, already hard, aching, beading with its precum. You couldn’t help but to gulp at the sight, feeling your core heating and getting more wet at the sight.
“You’d get to cum around my cock, you’d like that?” he asked, humming lightly as he grazed the tip of his cock against your entrance.
“Please, please, Won baby, I want it,” you begged, desperate for release, and your whiny, pitiful tone only made your lover’s dick twitch in excitement before without any warning he inserted himself inside you.
His thick girth ripped your walls open despite the prep earlier. It made you dig your nails deeper on the surface as hot tears kept on streaming down your face. The sensation left you choking while Jungwon continued to push himself inside you until he’s full-sheathed.
“Are you okay?” Jungwon asked as his hands went onto your waist. You nodded slowly before a small whimper left your lips.
“S-so full baby,” you muttered embarrassingly. “Could you move now please? I want to feel you more.”
Jungwon obliged. He pushed you down flat on the surface before his hands gripped on your waist tight. Slowly, he pulled himself out, then without any warning, gave your pussy a quick sharp thrust that made you arch your back naturally. He moved once again, precise yet sharp that slid all the way inside.
The restroom feels hotter and smaller as you and Jungwon became too lost in the obscene act you two are doing. There’s nothing you could hear other than how your skin slapped against each other, drowning the breathy groans Jungwon would release. His grip on your waist became tighter, fingers digging on your sides that you’re sure that it’ll leave a bruise on you.
And if it wasn’t enough, Jungwon’s other hand wrapped around your nape before he pulled you up to face the mirror. Revealing to you your ruined and messed-up self which only made your pussy tighter because you could see from the mirror how Jungwon would fuck you senselessly without any hesitation.
“Look at you pretty, all ruin for me,” he said as he pushed himself deeper, the new angle only made you cry in pleasure. “Eyes on me, will you? I want to see you fall apart for me.”
Jungwon started thrusting inside you again — deeper, relentless, and aching to feel your warmth hugging his cock as every stroke and pounding made you levitate in pleasure.
Your head’s spinning and your mind’s starting to be blank. You started to blabber nonsense as your eyes rolled back in contentment. Jungwon could feel it, how you’re too knocked-out to respond and your pussy’s becoming too tight and warm for his own good that he could only bite his lips as he holds back.
“Baby — still with me?” he groaned. “Want to cum now baby?”
“P-please,” you cried, almost a murmur. The pressure inside you was at its limit. Everything’s too overwhelming to you that the only thing that you wanted was for some release. “Won please, let me c-cum now — please, p-please…”
“Let it out baby, I got you,” he ordered.
You came in a silent mute. Breathe almost out of your lungs as your body shudders at the intensity of the high. Your nails scraped at the surface and your legs lost their strength if it wasn’t for your Jungwon who’s holding you tightly on your waist, still chasing after his own orgasm.
“Hold it in for me baby would you? Wanna come inside you,” Jungwon requested and though your body’s weak and melting from your orgasm, you let your lover use you for his own pleasure.
Jungwon focused on thrusting himself deeper on you. Your warm, wet walls clamped around his cock, as his head nudged on the spot nonstop, making his cock twitch in pleasure. The feeling became too much, making him groan uncontrollably.
In a sudden glimpse, the coil in his stomach snapped and he came without any warning. His body shook as he thrusted one last time, burying his cock deep inside you as his hot, thick cum filled your insides, making you whimper at the feeling.
The two of you stayed at the position, catching one’s breath before Jungwon slowly pulled out. He pulled you away from the sink, strong arms protective around your waist as he observed you, seeing you still drowsy due to the high, he couldn’t help but to caress your face with worry.
“You with me?” he asked and you nodded as a response.
“Words baby, come on,” he repeated and you hummed.
“I’m okay, give me a moment please,” you said and that assured Jungwon, planting a kiss on your lips which you reciprocated immediately.
“Let’s get you clean okay? Just stay there,” he instructed. You didn’t complain further as you watched Jungwon grab a handful of tissues before wetting it.
He wiped your body clean. All the parts that he had left his marks with. You could only hum in satisfaction as your boyfriend made you put on your panties and helped you fix your creased dress.
“You’re okay now?” he asked, rubbing your back in circles which made you relaxed and breathe better.
“Of course, thank you Won,” you answered with a smile.
“Let’s go home now?”
“I can’t Won, Kazuha’s waiting for me,” you told him.
“You mean Ms. Nakamura? Are you planning to ask them to invest in Kingsmark?” Jungwon asked.
You raised an eyebrow, “how’d you know?”
“I didn’t, just a business intuition,” he replied.
“Jungwon — can you keep it a secret?”
“Of course, but really? The Nakamuras? You’ll do better.”
“What do you mean?”
“They aren’t on the top anymore, I heard they’re on the verge of bankruptcy and have tons of loans in the bank — guess it wasn’t a surprise why Kazuha’s here, they need someone to pull them back to their feet.” Jungwon explained and you were left confused. You don’t know about that — nor did your parents. It felt impossible especially when the Nakamura’s has been one of the well-known names in Japan.
“Where did you hear that?” you asked that.
“I have resources,” he simply stated.
“Or are you just lying just to convince me to go home with you?”
“Hey, our families may be enemies, but we’re different,” Jungwon pointed, not sounding offended by your words. “I care for you enough that I don’t want you to make wrong decisions.”
You became quiet for a moment, staring at him who only had nothing but a persuading look on his face. “So you’re saying —”
“That Kazuha’s not worth it,” your lover concluded before he wrapped his arms around your waist. “But you know what’s worth it? Another round of sex.”
You weren’t able to rebut Jungwon’s words when he shut you off with a kiss, and like the fool you were, you kissed him back senselessly.
“Let’s leave?” he whispered to you, and you immediately melted, like a spell casted on you.
“Okay,” you answered without any hesitation. Mind shutting down as all you could think of was Jungwon, Jungwon, and Jungwon.
-
Jungwon was right when he had warned you about Kazuha.
The invitation came a few days later. A simple dinner inside the Yang residence. The man felt something was wrong immediately. Private dinners meant big-time deals, investments — illegal transactions, and worse, marriage proposals.
His parents had set him up to marriage proposals many times that he had lost count how many women he had rejected, and with the mention of Nakamura Kazuha, Jungwon knew what he was facing the moment he entered the living room and was welcomed by his parents.
Jungwon played pretend. Act the act, his persona, the untouchable and intelligent Yang Jungwon who’s currently the CEO of the top corporation in South Korea. The dinner wasn’t just them and Kazuha, there were other guests too. He knew his parents’ move — this meant that he couldn’t do any brass action in front of them.
“Jungwon, meet Miss Nakamura Kazuha,” his mother introduced, smiling at the woman who seemed demure and elegant. She was beautiful, Jungwon thinks, but she’s not you, of course.
Jungwon greeted her formally with a dimpled smile. Kazuha reciprocated it casually as she accepted the man’s hand. “From Nakamura Tech, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise, Mr. Yang.” Kazuha replied, and with their exchange of greetings, Jungwon’s mother seemed satisfied, giving Kazuha a light tap on the shoulder.
“We’ll leave you two be, get to know each other too, excuse us,” the old woman left the two alone that moment, causing a dead air between them, Jungwon knows how to deal with this after his numerous proposal, that’s why he offered Kazuha some drink which the woman happily accepted.
“I must say that it’s a surprise to see you here Ms. Nakamura,” Jungwon opened up. “It’s rare for my parents to invite anyone, if you know what I mean.”
“Your parents have been in long contact with me,” Kazuha shared. “They’re offering me something, that’s why I am here.”
“My hand in marriage, I suppose,” the man concluded without a second doubt.
Kazuha chuckled at his words, “Yes, if I am being honest Mr. Yang.”
“I am afraid I have to reject the proposal Ms. Nakamura, you see, my heart belongs to someone else.”
“Your parents told me, hence the marriage proposal and merging of companies,” that’s when she let out a deep, worried sigh. “I don’t want this too but Mr. Yang, but I am desperate.”
“From what I’ve heard Miss Nakamura, you aren’t reliable in this field, I’ve learned of your incompetencies and mismanagement of your company way before you stepped foot here. I don’t want this partnership to be a charity work, so I am sorry, I couldn’t help you.” Jungwon pointed out.
But Kazuha didn’t feel offended by the man’s words. She nodded as she took a sip on her wine. “Your parents said otherwise, they were willing to help me.”
“Just to tie me down in a marriage? Bullshit, I am currently the head of Eden, so all decisions will be made by me,” Jungwon argued.
“Even so, without the marriage and merging, could you help me, please?” Kazuha asked, almost pleading and desperate and yet, Jungwon remained unfettered by her plea.
“I’ll think about Ms. Nakamura, but for now, would you please excuse me? I need to find my parents,” Kazuha only nodded, letting Jungwon, who felt sour to the idea, go.
Jungwon found his parents talking to some of their friends, his anger hadn't melted down and the itch to confront them was there. But there were other guests inside, that’s why he held it in, remained composed before approaching his parents and asking them for a talk in private.
They ended up in his father’s house office. The door closed with a suffocating tension inside. Jungwon faced his parents who were waiting, not surprised to see their son this furious.
“We are not merging companies with Nakamura tech, and the marriage isn’t going to happen,” Jungwon told his parents. “If you think that this is a way for me to stop seeing y/n, you two are wrong.”
“You are a disgrace Jungwon,” his father said angrily, pointing at his son who didn’t flinch. “I don’t care how long you’ve been seeing her, I want you to stop making any contact with her. Do you want our image to be tarnished by being linked to them?”
“Why? What’s wrong with them? They’re one of the top corporations here, they have a reputable name, and if you guys didn’t hold onto that silly little grudge of yours and just merged with them years ago, we could have total control of the economy,” Jungwon explained.
“I'd rather die than for that to happen,” his father declared.
“Can’t wait,” Jungwon taunted and for that, his father punched him without any hesitation. Jungwon stumbled on the floor, lips bloodied and yet, he laughed mockingly at the situation.
The older man grabbed Jungwon by the collar, lifting him up from the floor as the smile on his lips remained. “Don’t fucking laugh at me Jungwon, you may be the head of the company, but I am still your father.”
“Fuck, I don’t care about that,” Jungwon slurred before chuckle escaped his lips. “I love y/n, and not even you two could stop me.”
Filled with rage, his father threw him back on the floor. The loud thud only made Jungwon laugh louder, cursing under his breath as his father pointed at him angrily.
“Break up with her,” his father instructed. “Do it immediately if you really care about her life.”
That’s when the younger man stopped, glancing at his father as he tried to process everything. “Don’t you ever touch her.”
“She’s an enemy Jungwon, I can dispatch her whenever I like,” the older man reminded. “But you’re still my son, I’ll give you a chance. Do as I told you and I’ll leave her alone.”
With those final words, Jungwon’s father left him alone there, in pain and bruised lips, but that didn’t matter to Jungwon, and instead, he rest his head on the floor, body filled with ache and as the only thing he could think of was you.
-
A few weeks later, Jungwon asked you out on a date.
Dates are rare. Your hotel meetups weren’t dates. Dates should be romantic, sweet, and filled with surprises but your relationship wasn’t normal after all. That’s why Jungwon’s invitation left you half-anxious, and half-excited.
You don’t know what Jungwon had prepared but all you knew was that it had to be discreet and hidden. In restaurants with private rooms and trusted people, serving good food. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you drove your way towards the address Jungwon sent you.
You left the keys to the valet and walked towards the entrance when you stopped to see two familiar figures in front of it.
“Mom, dad, what are you two doing here?” you asked as you walked towards them.
“Your mother was craving their pasta, that’s why we decided to have dinner here,” your father explained. “What about you?”
“Meeting a potential investor, hopefully, they will be here,” you lied and your parents bought it immediately.
“If that’s the case, then how about you join us? It will be helpful if we also put in our insights, right darling?” your mother said sweetly.
“You’re right dear, you know that we’re always here at every step of your career y/n,” your father added.
You were left with no choice but to nod, accepting their request. Your parents entered the restaurant first while you trail behind, fishing out your phone to text Jungwon about the sudden emergency.
The place wasn’t full at all. It was a weekday, that’s why a few tables were occupied — that included Jungwon who sat alone at a corner table. His place was hidden, almost felt like he’s out of place but you knew that it was the best spot for you two to enjoy dinner.
“What the hell is Yang Jungwon doing here?” your mother sneered.
You raised an eyebrow, acting innocent as you looked around. “Yang Jungwon?”
“Look at him, such a narcissistic jerk,” your father commented with a scoff. “Do you know they’re eyeing on the Nakamuras to invest in their company?”
“What?” That's when you glanced at your father with surprise. You may have failed to close a deal with her but you trust your guts that Jungwon’s words were right — you just didn’t expect that they’re also running after her company too.
“Yes, that’s why he was at Mr. Han’s project launch. I heard he wasn’t invited at all, he was given last minute out of formality,” your father explained and slowly, everything’s starting to connect. Jungwon’s appearance was a last-minute invitation. You don’t know if your parents were telling the truth, but you wanted to insist that Jungwon show up because of you.
“Right, they’re offering marriage right? How dirty! They’re so desperate that they opted to partner with foreign companies?”
Your heart dropped at the news. Marriage? Is this why Jungwon’s asking you out on a date? Was he going to call it off? Your mind suddenly went blank. Memories of you and Jungwon from the past few years started to flash in your mind. If it’s true then you’re thankful that your parents saved you from the heartbreak —
“Y/n? Is there anything you want? Are you alright?” you snapped out of your mind when your mother touched your arms. You flinched at her warmth but immediately, you gave them a quick smile before clearing your throat.
“I’ll just have the salmon please,” you said to her, whose worry washed away with your smile.
While your parents talked in their own world, you couldn’t help but to take a quick glance at Jungwon who you locked your eyes with in a second. You gave him a short, sorry smile and he nodded, understanding your situation.
Dinner started and you sat there while your parents indulged in the food and talk. You focused on your food, your mind still filled with thoughts about what your parents said about Jungwon earlier.
You looked at Jungwon, he looked like he’s having dinner alone — casual and in his own world. It looked like the situation doesn’t affect him at all, and you’re itching to know why he seemed so chill about everything.
While you’re here, sitting with your parents, overthinking about everything that involves you and him.
“Y/n, is your guest arriving?” your gaze shifted towards your parents. Heart hammering like crazy, hoping they didn’t notice how your stare towards Jungwon lingered too long.
“Oh,” you pretend to look at your phone before giving them a pitied smile. “They aren’t responding to my text at all. I don’t know if they’ll show up.”
“How irresponsible,” your mother commented. “Well, it’s a good thing that we’re here.”
“Right, thank you for accompanying me,” you only said before you took a sip on your wine. Your parents went back to their conversation, while your eyes shifted again towards your lover whose eyes were on you too.
Jungwon raised his glass, subtle and quick, and that made you smile, you tipped your glass in response, quick and short. Both of your eye contact remained as you took a sip on your glass. It assured you somehow and your thoughts that night vanished in just a glimpse.
Hours passed and you found yourself back in your house, alone and disappointed with tonight's outcome. The only thing you could do was to take a quick shower to wash off today's exhaustion, and hopefully — get some good night's sleep.
But you knew tonight wasn’t over when a text from Jungwon showed up on your phone.
Nuggets? his text said and you knew what it was. A small smile formed on your lips unknowingly before you grabbed a large cotton jacket and left your place in your pajamas.
You made a quick detour at a 24/7 fast food chain nearby and ordered a ten-piece chicken nuggets along with some curly fries and rootbeer float. As soon as you got your order, you drove your way out of the city in a hurry.
Somewhere uphill, at an not-so abandoned lot that’s filled with nothing but tall trees and one singular flickering streetlight, awaits Jungwon who’s sitting at the hood of his car. He was already in his sleeping clothes too. A cotton pajamas set paired with his university jacket to warm him up.
You arrived minutes later after him. After you parked your car beside him, you turned off the machine, grabbed your food and left the car.
You approached Jungwon who only gave you a smile before pointing out his order from a different foodplace. He helped you get on top of the hood of his car and in silence, the two of you sat there and stared at the view.
The night was cold yet serene. The view didn’t add to the tranquility. The dark, secluded forest that’s probably inhabited by wild animals and wandering ghosts was your view, and yet, you never found any reason to be scared of it because this was the only place that you and Jungwon could be together.
Not in your expensive suits and dress, nor with your sophisticated words and formal personality — this is a place wherein your body and soul only yearn for each other’s presence and comfort, not for pleasure and intimacy.
It’s just you, Jungwon, your take-out orders, and probably any stray creatures at the forest, trying to enjoy the night under the dimmed, flickering streetlight, wearing your sleeping clothes. Somehow, something about the whole setup made you two feel so normal — as if the two of you are a young couple out for a late-night date away from the city.
You took a sip on your rootbeer float first. You noticed Jungwon winced at your choice of drink but you didn’t comment on how he ordered onion rings that’s already soggy and made his breath smell like onion. Both of you found comfort on the greasy, unhealthy food as silence devoured you for the following minutes.
“My parents have discovered about us,” Jungwon opened up. “I was about to confess it to you during our date, my parents are forcing me to end it.”
“Then my parents ruined it,” you complained.
“Our parents ruined it,” he heaved, sounding annoyed than ever which made you focus on your food instead.
The silence crept in for the next few minutes. You’re already on your sixth nuggets when a thought struck you.
“That’s it?” you asked, confused.
Jungwon looked at you, confused with your reaction. “What?”
You shrugged, “that’s all you got to say?”
“They’ve been in contact with Kazuha ever since, they were planning to marry me off to her,” Jungwon added and that’s where hunches were right.
“My parents told me that,” you told him.
“I’m not going to marry her, don't worry, she’s completely useless to me,” Jungwon assured and though a bit harsh, you chuckled as the weight in your heart faded away.
“That’s a bit harsh.”
“I know, but you know me, I won’t marry anyone unless it’s you,” Jungwon proclaimed and that made you look at him with a bitter smile because despite his assurance, something still feels off.
“Do you think it’s going to be like this forever?” you asked instead before taking a bite on your nuggets.
“I…honestly don’t know either,” Jungwon admitted, tone full of regret. “For the first time in my life, I never thought about the future.”
“We’re a bunch of cowards, don’t you think?” you laughed but Jungwon remained quiet.
You stared at him before your hand reached for his. He squeezed it lightly, trying to convince you that he’s fine but his expressions give it away.
“I don’t like to keep it like this forever,” he said, feeling ashamed that you two have to hide it from the world. It felt like it was his fault that you two couldn’t be together in public.
But you only smiled at him. “Is this the part where we have to settle with our relationship?”
“No,” Jungwon sternly replied. “I don’t want to confront that topic right now.”
“Then what are we going to do?” you asked, tone desperate.
“Let’s just eat, your nuggets’s getting cold now,” he changed the topic instead and you rolled your eyes. His hand had left yours as he grabbed his box and grabbed another piece.
“Jungwon.”
“I love you, that’s the only thing that matters right now.” he stated before taking a bite.
You only stared at him. Appalled at his words that your heart skipped a beat. It should feel reassuring but there’s a small part of you that felt that it wasn’t enough.
Yet, you don’t want to acknowledge that emptiness because it’ll just make things hard for the both of you, that’s why you could only smile bitterly at him. “I love you too Won, and I wish that there’s a universe out there where our circumstances are different.”
“It could happen in this universe, you know?” Jungwon convinced.
You chuckled in disbelief. “You think so?”
“I hope so,” he said nonchalantly and that made you laugh.
“We’re so bad at giving hope, don’t you think?”
Jungwon laughed at your answer, he nudged you quietly before glancing at your food. “Just go finish your chicken babe.”
-
That was the last time you saw him.
It’s been weeks since you last saw Yang Jungwon. Your conversation that night should’ve left you assured and confident with Jungwon.
But why did he suddenly disappear like a ghost? The last time you heard about him was that he was leaving for Japan, for some business matters. You didn’t pry further but the communication started to slip away. No more calls nor texts. All of your text was left unread that made you wonder what’s going on with him.
You decided to spend your energy on your work instead. Time felt slow as your office became busy and overwhelming. It didn’t help that there’s a sudden change of plans in the upcoming years, hence completely ruining what you have visioned for Kingsmark. Your parents advised you to not rush yourself, but their words felt as if they’re holding you back instead.
You know that they still have control of the company, but what’s your purpose if they wouldn’t trust your decisions completely? You suddenly felt useless and burned out. A lot of things shifted for the past few weeks. Resignations of employees, changes in board of directors — and even partnered companies, were slowly disappearing week by week.
You could’ve asked your parents to leave everything to you but at the same time, you couldn’t bear to disobey your parents. That’s why you suck it up, because you think that they’re doing what’s best for you and Kingsmark.
That’s why you found yourself driving towards a restaurant for a private meeting. A potential investor, your parents told you, and with this partnership, Kingsmark will rise up to the top, beating Eden, just like what they always want too. You didn’t bother arguing with their wish and just obliged with it, hoping that this could be a stepping stone for them to get what they always wanted.
As you arrived at the restaurant, you were led to a private room where your parents were. They greeted you with a hug before leading you towards a tall man who seemed foreign.
He was handsome, face sculpted like he was a model, and his outfit seemed informal for a business meeting. But you didn’t question it as he gave you a smile.
“Y/n, this is Mr. Nishimura Riki,” your father introduced.
“Hello,” you greeted, giving him your hand which he accepted.
“He’s your future husband,” your mother said.
That’s when you froze, tugging away your hands from his. He seemed offended as you looked at him with disgust before looking at your parents with confusion.
“Husband?” you muttered.
“She was just shocked Mr. Nishimura, give her time to process,” your mother insisted at the man who hasn’t said any word.
“No, I’m sorry, you must be mistaken,” you laughed before shaking your head. “There will be no wedding nor any arrangement, I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
Hastily, you left the room and ran your way out of the restaurant — ignoring your parents who followed you immediately.
“Y/n! Y/n come back here!” you ignored your mother’s voice and started running faster despite wearing stilettos.
But the crooked pavement didn’t help either. You were cursing under your breath as you almost trip while walking. That’s when you gave up, standing frozen at your place as you try to sink everything that happened inside the restaurant.
“Y/n —”
“I am not marrying a stranger ma — we don’t need them! Our company’s doing great,” you stated but your mother’s face shifted into disappointment as she shook her head.
“You’re failing Kingsmark, you’re not fit to take over and lead the company,” your mother argued and that made you raise an eyebrow.
“I am doing everything for Kingsmark but you guys always have to interfere — I couldn’t even make decisions without you guys intervening in everything,” you insisted.
“We have to,” this time, it was your father who talked. His voice was authoritative and clearly, he was mad at you. “You’re not trustworthy enough y/n, especially ever since you started seeing that Yang Jungwon.”
Your world stopped. The revelation came crashing down like a meteorite. You gaze on both your parents, trying to articulate words.
“H-how…how did you —”
“We know from the start. We knew y/n and we let you continue your foolish affair, we were just waiting for you to wake up,” your father explained, and you couldn’t believe everything he just said.
“Wake up? What are you talking about —”
“Jungwon is still a Yang, and he will always be, do you really think he loves you? He’ll do everything to make Eden group remain at its spot.” he insisted and that made you scoff.
“Jungwon’s not like that, he’s different.” you defended.
“How sure are you? Open your eyes y/n, he’s just using you, he knows you’re weak and kind-hearted, and that selfish bastard took advantage of you.” your mother argued.
You became quiet for a moment. You recalled everything — everything you and Jungwon had.
It should be real. What you two had. You know and your heart is telling you that everything is real. You could see the way he looks at you, how he cared, and assure you. Everything was real. It should be.
But everything made sense all of the sudden. Ever since you took over your family’s company. Something shifted with Jungwon. All the projects and plans you unknowingly spilled on him as you cry your stress out to him — it always ends up with Eden group having the same idea. He seemed to become more attentive with you leading Kingsmark, it was as if he wanted to know all the future plans that you have.
Then came Kazuha. He knew that you were planning to have her as an investor. It doesn’t feel like a coincidence that later on, he was supposed to marry her. What if everything he said that night was just a lie? Everything seemed to align — his absence, him being in Japan — everything makes sense and yet, you don’t want to accept the reality.
Your vision started to blur as tears formed on your eyes. You looked at your parents with nothing but mere denial on your face.
“But…I love him,” you confessed to them, almost a mumble as you felt embarrassed confessing to your parents that you have loved an enemy.
“You’ll learn to love Riki someday sweetheart,” your mother insisted but you shook your head. You can’t just love someone all of the sudden. You couldn’t — all your heart yearns for is Jungwon.
“No.” you stated loud and clear. “I’m going to fix Kingsmark on my own. Without your help, without Riki’s help, I am going to do this alone from now on.”
“You have proved to us that you’re incapable of handling Kingsmark,” your father rebutted. “The contracts have been signed. We’ll be merging with their company whether you like it or not.”
“Without consulting me?” you asked, feeling betrayed than ever. “If that was the case, then you shouldn’t have made me the heiress of the company.”
“You’re being rebellious, you knew from the start that you’ll inherit the company — that damn Yang Jungwon’s corrupting you!” your father accused.
That’s when you scoff, “if that was the case then I’d be happy to be corrupted by him.”
A slap. A sharp one stinged as your mother’s hand landed on your face. You were in total daze as realization hit you.
“Wake up y/n, this isn’t a fairytale. You’re a l/n, you belong to Kingsmark the same way Jungwon belongs to Eden. You two aren’t just made for each other,” your mother coldly stated while you remained frozen, trying to process the slap your mother just gave you.
Even with your cheeks numb, it didn’t hurt more than the fact that trying to separate you from Jungwon.
“You and Jungwon are not meant to be y/n, he’s off there getting married to someone else.” your father said.
“He rejected the proposal, he wouldn’t be marrying anyone unless it’s me and I’ll do the same,” you objected.
“How sure are you about that y/n, there’s a reason why he’s in Japan, isn’t he?”
No. No way. It was the one thing that you dreaded to become a reality — Jungwon completely betraying you.
To add fuel to the fire, your father gave you his phone and with shaky hands, you grabbed it to see pictures of Jungwon and Kazuha together.
Different photos. In hotel lobbies, coffee shops, and restaurants. In public. Out loud compared to you and your hidden affair.
They were smiling, together, in public — it was your only dream with him and yet, reality hit you harder — that your dream will forever remain a dream.
“They’re getting married y/n, so stop this madness and accept the fact that you two will never be together.” your mother said, and from there, tears started to stream down from your eyes.
“Next week, your official engagement party will be held. Be prepared, and make sure you’ve grown acquainted with Riki, we shouldn’t disappoint him.” your father explained. “Don’t disappoint us y/n. You don’t want us to be your enemy right?”
“Or what? You’d hurt me just like what mom did?” you mocked.
“You might never see Jungwon, ever again,” your father threatened and that’s when you didn’t argue anymore, knowing how capable your parents were to get rid of a threat to them.
-
The engagement party arrived a few days later. It felt rushed, but you knew that your parents were persistent to tie you down with someone else.
It was a private event. Held in a well-known venue that has a beautiful grassfield on display, only a few people were invited, and by tomorrow — your engagement will be announced in public.
From the outside, you could hear the crowd already. Their murmurs and gossip while your heart tightened at the idea. You were concealing your emotions, hoping to put a good show for the crowd.
“Let’s go?” Riki asked, holding out his arm which you accepted without any thought. Over the last few days, you got to know your fiance. He was cold and guarded, it seemed like he thinks of this marriage as purely out of business only.
You entered the reception hall with your hands resting on Riki’s arms. The crowd applauded at your entrance while your smile became faker as all eyes were on you two. Despite the cheers and claps, you could hear your heart drumming loudly, screaming for you to leave, run away, and never return.
But this is your world. This is how you were born and raised, you have to accept that the life of luxury and living in an empire was all you ever taught growing up. That included marriage too, everything is a matter of business, connection, and power.
That’s why, whatever your parents had arranged with Riki, you just hoped that it was worth everything.
Just as you thought things could go worse, your eyes gazed at the corner and that’s when your heart bursted out of your chest. Eyes turned wide as at the corner, you see him.
Jungwon, holding a glass of wine. He raised the glass with a bitter expression on his face. You weren’t able to process everything, not when Riki tugged you closer to him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded immediately. Letting him guide you towards your parents who seemed to be pleased with the situation. Your mother hugged you tightly but you couldn’t even reciprocate her hug. You couldn’t believe that the next place you’d ever see Jungwon was in your engagement party.
Your parents invited him on purpose. They knew what they were doing, and you don't know why Jungwon entered their trap — a part of you wondered if he knew too and still went here.
As you broke out of the hug, you tried to glance at his place again but he’s not there anymore. Your eyes search for him, but it was too late when your parents pulled you to have you be introduced to some strangers.
The party started but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t get out of Riki’s hold either. It looks like your parents have informed him about Jungwon and to keep an eye on you. You couldn’t do anything but to go along with it, faking smiles and engaging in conversation with strangers and people you barely knew.
“You seem out of your head,” Riki commented as the hour passed by.
“Just tired,” you lied, even though your mind is still searching for Jungwon.
Riki nodded at your words. “Do you want to rest?”
“I would love that,” you replied shortly.
But before you could even move, the lights turned off all of the sudden. The room was filled with gasps and screams of surprise, everyone was trying to process everything that just happened — even you.
It wasn’t until an arm grabbed you out of nowhere, you weren’t able to let out a scream when the stranger’s hand covered your mouth before dragging you out of the venue.
The drag was long. Everything was pitch black until a gentle breeze welcomed you and from the dimmed lights on the venue’s garden, you saw the person behind the commotion — that’s when it hit you.
“You’re getting married!?” Jungwon asked furiously. His grip on you loosened as he looked at you like you’ve betrayed him.
“My parents have arranged this,” you explained.
“And you agreed with it?”
“I have no choice Jungwon, it’s for Kingsmark —”
But Jungwon laughed mockingly. “Really? You’re selling your soul for your company, for fuck’s sake y/n, marriage isn’t the solution to that!”
“I have no choice, Jungwon, you’ve stolen everything!” you argued back, startling Jungwon who looked at you confused.
“What?” he breathed.
“Our partnered companies, stockholders — even our suppliers and staff, they are all leaving us and moving to Eden group,” you explained.
“You think I’m behind all of this?” he asked, appalled by your accusation.
“Because there’s no other explanation other than that! Everything happened the moment I became Kingsmark’s head and something shifted on you Jungwon.” you pointed out.
“That’s it? You think I’d do that?”
“You’re a Yang, you’ll do everything to keep your company on top,” you accused and from there, Jungwon’s expression changed. He looked at you in disbelief, shocked that you’d say those words.
“I thought we passed through that?”
“I don’t know Jungwon, I don’t know if I should trust you ever since we — ever since we dated, Kingsmark has been slowly decreasing and failing.” you explained.
“You’re going to blame that on me? Maybe you’re just incompetent that’s why it’s failing,” he rebutted.
That was a low blow. You were surprised that those words came out of his mouth. You convinced yourself that it was just Jungwon being frank and brutal, but something about what he said felt like a dagger to your heart.
What hurts most was that he doesn’t look sorry at all, and that’s when it hits you — that maybe, your parents are right all along.
“Right, maybe it’s me who’s incompetent, that’s why I am making things right,” you agreed. “And if this marriage is the solution, I’m going to do it —”
“What the fuck!? Are you serious? Do you even know who you’re marrying? Do you even know their background or maybe, you’re that desperate to beat Eden group?” he fumed.
You nodded to his words, even if it felt bitter. “Maybe I am that desperate, because I am not going to let Kingsmark end with me.”
“Nishimura Riki from the clan of the Nishimura yakuzas? A well-known yakuza clan in Okayama who later venture to different prefectures in Japan and made their name well-known, they sell illegal stuff. Drugs, weapons, and assasination — you’re marrying a dangerous man y/n,” Jungwon explained.
“I guess my parents think that it was better for me to be married to a dangerous man rather than to you Jungwon.” you said in disbelief, even laughing at your situation.
“You’re okay with that?”
“Because they left me no choice, Jungwon,” you heaved. Deep inside you wanted to tell him. The threat, your fear of what they might do to him.
You don’t know what your parents would do if you continue your relationship with Jungwon. You don’t want to put his life in danger too, that’s why in order to keep the person you love the most safe, you have to sacrifice yourself.
“What about us then?” he asked.
“There’s no us anymore Jungwon.”
“Suddenly? It’s so easy for you to throw everything that we had,” he scoffed.
“Do we really have something Jungwon? Who knows maybe you were just a goddamn good actor that everything was just an act just to infiltrate my company.” you accused.
“You think low of me to think that I’d do that y/n.”
“Then what’s the reason? Why did you love me Jungwon?” you questioned as your eyes started to get wet.
“It just happened.” Jungwon answered, short and simple. “Just like yours, it just happened, and our feelings don’t lie y/n, I know you love me, you’re just scared to disappoint your parents.”
“That’s right, I have disappointed them enough, failing Kingsmark, loving their rival’s son — it’s no use Jungwon, we are just not meant to be, we’re better with somebody else,” you told him.
“What do you mean?” Jungwon asked, confused.
“You’re marrying Kazuha.”
“I am not.”
“Then why are you together in Japan!?” you shouted.
“I was helping her with her company! In that way the marriage won’t happen! I set her up with a friend! Why do you think that I’d marry her? If that was your breaking point to agree to the marriage, then you don’t trust me enough,” Jungwon argued.
“Maybe I do, because I don’t know if everything about us is real,” you supposed.
Jungwon stared at you for a minute. Disbelief still evident on his face. “Were those real for you? Why are you doubting us suddenly? What did your parents planted in your mind that made you hesitate and doubt our love? We’ve been together for eight years, if I want to betray you, I would’ve done it earlier.”
“Yeah, maybe I am doubting our love because if it’s love, why do we have to keep it a secret?” you pondered.
“You know the answer to that, we simply just couldn’t.” Jungwon reminded.
“Right, that’s why I am not going to keep this any longer,” you said in defeat.
“You’re just ending things just like that? Just because of a misunderstanding? You’re just going to give us up easily?”
“Well, would you? Are you going to give up everything for us to happen?” you rebutted.
“You know I would y/n, because I love you and you know I’d risk everything if it means we get to be together forever,” Jungwon declared and yet, you remained unfazed. You only stood there, frozen and confused.
“How about you? Are you going to do the same? But seeing that fear got you first, I don’t think you love me the same way that I love you,” he pointed out.
“That’s not true Jungwon, I love you. I love you enough that I took the risk of meeting you, being with you, and everything —”
“But it’s not enough for you to fight for us. I also need you to fight for me. We’re in this together. I need you too y/n,” Jungwon explained, tone soft yet tired as he looked at you who couldn’t do anything.
“I’m sorry Jungwon.” you cried, tears streaming down your eyes.
“Don’t do this.” he begged once again, sounding more desperate than ever. “We made a promise y/n, we…it’s us against the world, we could —”
“We couldn’t Jungwon,” you breathed. “We, we’re just not meant to be, you know that.”
Jungwon stared at you for a good minute.
“I’m sorry, I’m tired of our situation, I couldn’t do this anymore,” you said before turning around and starting to walk away — but he caught your arms immediately, making you stop.
“You’re giving up all of a sudden? We’ve been doing this for eight goddamn years, and you’re throwing it all in just a snap? I can’t believe you.” Jungwon spoke. He wasn’t angry anymore, his tone was more of a beg, and that just hurts you even more.
“To love is to let go, Jungwon,” you said to him before removing his hold on you. “I love you so much but I just know that you’ll meet someone better, someone — who you could love outloud, and I’m not that girl.”
“If you love someone, you’d fight for them y/n,” Jungwon rebutted. “Why do you think that letting go is the best choice when you could just fight for our love? This is much better because I am with you in this situation y/n, you’re not alone.”
“I can’t fight anymore Jungwon, I am tired,” you insisted before you faced and gently gave him a kiss. “I’m sorry.”
Jungwon was frozen by your actions. Your eyes were already red and wet from your cries. He wasn’t able to do anything but to watch you mouth your apology to him one last time before you turned around and walked away from him again.
“You think I won’t fight for our love y/n!?” Jungwon shouted, making you stop. “I’d do it in a heartbeat but I wanted to ask, can you do the same thing to me?”
Instead of answering, you started walking again, slowly away from him as the tears from your eyes continued to pour.
-
Moving on wasn’t your best forte.
Sure, you had a fair share of past relationships before Jungwon happened but the problem is, they’re not Jungwon.
They weren’t Yang Jungwon who was supposed to be your enemy. They weren’t him who you meet in secret, in your own little world, away from the crowd and the empires that were built to become your hindrance. They weren’t him who loved you only for you, not as the golden spoon-borned heiress. Just you.
Eight years. Eight fucking years and you just ended it in just one night because you weren’t Jungwon who’s not afraid to fight for love. You’re just you, someone who’s lost and knows the only right thing to do is, do what’s best.
You’re your parents’ only daughter. The sole heiress of Kingsmark. You’re destined to continue your family lineage and build a stronger foundation of Kingsmark. Arranged marriages aren’t new in your world, so you just have to accept that this is the world you grew up to.
It’s been two weeks since you and Jungwon called it off. Two weeks and your engagement with Nishimura Riki had been publicized to the world.
True to Jungwon’s words, Riki was indeed a dangerous man, but he was still powerful nonetheless. You concluded that this marriage wasn’t just for you to be separated from Jungwon, but also to gain power outside your country.
Riki was a quiet man. Cold yet you could see that he has a protective side when it comes to you. He seemed to have warmed up to you while you’ve grown accustomed to his presence, it felt like a guard dog given to you.
Despite his presence and that expensive engagement ring on your fourth finger, you couldn’t find yourself moving on from your relationship with Jungwon. Not when it was abrupt, sudden — without any closure at all. You just left Jungwon there, wondering what went wrong.
You didn’t even try calling him or sending him any message. No amount of apologies and sorry could make up for the damage you have done to him. You have hurt him too much that you’re ashamed to face him. That’s why the only thing that you could do was hope for the best for him.
Then came the sudden news. You were in your office when you heard it.
Eden group of companies under fire for alleged embezzlement of 800 billion won.
Suddenly, your ears turned deaf and everything felt mute as Jungwon’s face was plastered on the television. You couldn’t make up the words the anchor was saying but your heart was screaming Jungwon.
Jungwon.
Is Jungwon okay?
What the hell is this? Is Jungwon involved in this?
You snapped out of your thoughts and hastily, your shaky hands grabbed your phone and dialed Jungwon’s phone — only for the number to be unregistered.
You tried once, twice — numerous times before you gave up. A curse and two escaped your lips before you scrolled through every contact you have with Jungwon but none. It’s as if Jungwon blocked you or disappeared.
You sat there clutching your phone tightly while your heart tightened even more. Everything hurts. Jungwon, you don’t know what’s going on with him right now and you badly wanted to know how he is.
But the guilt crept more to you as you recalled your last moments with Jungwon, remembering how you walked away from him. You wanted to curse yourself for giving up on him. Just when he needed you the most, you walked away from him.
Your trail of thoughts disappeared when your parents entered your office. They seem in a good mood, so you try to brush the news as you close your phone and try to plaster a smile.
“Dear, did you see the news?” your mother asked sweetly that it halted on to you.
Your heart hammered louder. They looked as if they’re anticipating your reaction, while you looked at them with eyes wide.
“Is this about Jungwon?” you asked them back.
“This is what we’re talking about,” your mother said softly, but to you, it felt mocking.
“I don’t understand,” you only said.
“Their truth is now exposed, thank goodness because they deserve what’s about to happen to them,” your father stated and from how they reacted, something felt off.
“You guys did that?” you asked, appalled.
“We did it for you,” your mother explained, and that’s when the truth hit you. “To show you how dirty Yang Jungwon is.”
You shook your head, “no, he’s not — he won’t do something like that. You set him up.”
“We didn’t, they just don’t know how to clean up their own mess.” your father answered.
That’s when you exploded, standing up with rage as you looked at them. “Why do you have to do that!? Was it enough for you to marry me off to Riki!? You told me you won’t do anything to Jungwon.”
“This is just a pure business kid,” your father answered and that made you stop. “You’d understand it someday.”
“I’ll never understand because you never ever tried to look at me as someone who’s capable of doing things on my own.” you mocked. “I had enough of this, I am tired of you controlling me, and I won’t let you control my life anymore.”
You stood up from your seat, grabbed your things and left your office, ignoring your parent’s shouts as your mind turned blank and spiralled. You were overwhelmed. Every emotion — anger, guilt, and anxiety mixed with your brain but you decided to just do what your heart is telling you to do.
You got into your car and drove towards the only person who knew about Jungwon. Giving your car keys to the valet, you immediately entered the lobby, and to your luck — he was there.
“Sunoo, I need to talk to Jungwon,” you stated the moment you approached the man.
But Sunoo only stared. He looked surprised to see you here, filled with desperation and yet, he didn’t budge. The man looked like he was thinking whether to tell you or not, which meant that Sunoo knows something.
“He’s not here y/n,” Sunoo answered. “They’re investigating Eden group right now, and since he’s the head, he’s probably either hiding, or complying with the investigation. He’s in deep trouble right now.”
“I know, that’s why I need to talk to him.” you repeated.
Sunoo shrugged casually, “I don’t know about his whereabouts y/n. Jungwon disappeared.”
Your forehead creased to his answer. “Disappeared?”
The man nodded, “disappeared. He left. Vanished without any trace — I don’t know. I couldn’t reach him or anything.”
“He wouldn’t — I — I need to help him,” you said. “My parents — they’re behind this, and I need to help —”
“Breathe y/n, calm down please,” Sunoo said softly, holding your cold, sweaty hands as he helped you with your breathing. You couldn’t help but to worry further, especially when the only trail you have towards Jungwon doesn’t have a single clue about his presence.
“Sunoo, I need to help him,” you muttered and the man only nodded.
“If there’s someone who knows Jungwon the best between us, that’s you y/n,” Sunoo advised. “So calm down, and just let Jungwon do this. He knows how to handle this case.”
-
You were losing hope.
The scandal was all over the news for the past following days. It haunted you. You wondered about Jungwon’s whereabouts. You looked everywhere for him but nothing.
He’s gone.
Just gone in a glimpse, and you thought you couldn’t do anything about it anymore — not until your phone rang late at night and a message appeared to you. All your worries faded.
Nuggets?
That one word. That damn one word was all you needed to get your hopes high.
Jungwon’s alive, and he’s asking you to meet him. He’s alive — and he wanted to see you. The thought repeated in your mind numerous times before it sinked into you. The text made you hopeful. Your heart was filled with determination as you grabbed your phone, car keys, and jacket, and left your flat.
Driving towards that spot. You could feel your heart’s about to burst out of your chest anytime. You were nervous, scared of how to confront Jungwon but there’s a small hope in you that tries to ease you. It’s just Jungwon. He won’t do anything bad to you.
You already noticed his car when you arrived at the empty lot. Parking your car and turning off the engine, you suddenly froze, seemingly scared to go out.
But there he was standing near his car. Hair messy and longer than usual, while his eyes looked tired, filled with dark circles underneath. It looks like the case took a toll on him but he spared his time to meet up.
He needs you. Your heart told you. There's no time for you to be scared, that’s why you got out of the car but stopped in front. Waiting for him to make a move.
Jungwon didn’t say anything and instead, he opened his arms wide — like he was asking for your hug and that was it.
You broke down.
You ran towards him who managed to catch you smoothly. His hug was tight and safe. Life suddenly felt safe and comforting to you as that familiar scent from your lover hit your nose.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him. “I didn’t mean — for everything, I’m sorry —”
Your words were cut off when Jungwon crashed his lips against yours. Hungry, eager, and missing you like crazy. His hands that gripped your face were too tight but you couldn't do anything but to groan against his lips as you kissed him back with much intensity.
The kiss went for another minute and two until Jungwon broke out first, catching his breath as his stare on you lingered.
“It’s okay, I know you don’t mean it,” Jungwon said.
“I’m sorry Jungwon, I was just — just so scared of everything,” you apologized as your stare on him never left. “My parents — they, they told me that they’ll do something to you. That’s why I agreed.”
“We’ll talk about it for another day, but right now, I need you.” he replied and that made you look at him.
“Is it about your case?”
He nodded. “Your parents exposed it to the media,”
“They did, they confessed it to me,” you confirmed.
“Great, I owe them for that because my parents were planning on pining everything on me,” Jungwon stated and your ears rang at the confession.
“What? Why?”
“Because of us,” Jungwon answered, his thumb brushing onto your cheeks softly. “It wasn’t enough that I called it off, they wanted me to suffer.”
“Jungwon, what do you want me to do?” you asked.
“Testify with me.”
“For the case?”
“It’s about time that we tell everyone about us,” Jungwon decided. “But I need you to be there with me.”
“Can we do that? We’re talking about our parents, they could do more damage to us,” you asked, still filled with fear.
“We’re in this together y/n, we’ll get through this,” he assured.
But you weren’t able to say anything when you heard screeches of wheels driving towards your spot. You two separated from each other as both heads turned towards the direction of the sound.
Your eyes widened as you saw a familiar black maserati. Stopping in front of you, the door opened, and Riki went out of the vehicle, looking furious and mad.
“Jungwon —” Jungwon immediately pulled you behind him, shielding you from Riki who seemed to have every intention of taking you back.
Things went too fast for your sight. The next thing you knew, Riki landed a punch on Jungwon, making the man stumble upon the ground with a bloodied nose.
“Jungwon!” you shouted and screamed in terror as Riki pulled you away from Jungwon, you struggled against him as the tall man carried you away on his shoulders.
You screamed Jungwon’s name as you tried to escape your way out of Riki’s grip, but all of your struggles were useless when he placed you down on the passenger seat before he moved towards the driver’s seat.
“Where’s your phone?” Riki asked as he started to pat down your clothes, you pushed Riki away but he was stronger, finally finding your phone and stealing it away from you.
“You didn’t have to do that!” you shouted at Riki.
“You listen to me,” the man ordered, cold and authoritative as he grabbed you by your face, facing him who had nothing but a predatory gaze that sent chills down your spine.
“You and I are getting married whether you like it or not. Your parents owe me billions, if you don’t compromise, it’ll be the end of them, do you understand?” he warned.
“Billions?” you asked.
“How the fuck do you think your parents’ found the Yang’s dirt?” Riki shared and the revelation made your stomach churned.
“Are you serious?”
“Your parents made a deal with me, they knew what they’re doing,” Riki explained before he released his hold on you. “Unfortunate to you, you’re the product sold to me. So if you really love your parents, you shut the fuck up and don’t you ever meet up with Yang Jungwon ever again.”
“Is that a threat?” you asked, appalled.
“It’ll be if you disobey me once again,” he warned and that made you shut up.
“You’re lucky that it’s your parents’ life that’s at risk,” he glanced at Jungwon’s direction, a smirk becoming evident to his lips. “Or else, it’ll be his life.”
“Don’t you ever touch Jungwon,” you scowled at him but the man remained unfazed.
“If you want to keep him alive, you do everything I say,” he repeated once again and you were left with no choice. You watched as Riki turned off your phone and placed it in his jacket’s pocket. With nothing else you could do, you sinked into your chair as your cry started to become louder, wondering why everyone seemed so against you and Jungwon’s love.
-
The veil’s crown felt heavy on your head.
Your hair, filled with numerous extensions was tied into a bun, white flowers adorned around the bun along with a crown wherein your veil was extended.
You were glowing, all ethereal in your wedding gown and yet, the sorrow expression in your face couldn’t be erased. This was supposed to be a wonderful day for you, but this felt like a tragedy instead — knowing that the person who’s meeting you at the altar, wasn’t the one you love.
You watched in the mirror’s reflection how the stylist fixed your makeup with much precision. Your makeup was simple, and clean, keeping a pure image that complements your immaculate white wedding gown. While getting yourself prepared, your mind was spiraling, wondering about Jungwon’s whereabouts. You lost contact with him, and it didn’t help that Riki was guarding you 24/7.
You could only hope that he’s fine and that the case would be dissolved. You couldn’t meet him anymore, especially when there’s a threat waiting for him.
That’s why you had given up. Your loved ones are in danger and you don’t want to do any reckless acts anymore. If this wedding could give you a peace of mind that everyone you love will be safe, you’re willing to go on with it — even if it means marrying the man who has been nothing but a threat to you.
A knock on the door startled you. Turning around, you saw that it was just one of Riki’s men, informing you that the wedding car had arrived. You nodded to his words while you let the stylist do some last minute touch-ups before going. Eventually, she helped you get out of the hotel room, downwards the elevator, and enter the car.
With the door closing, the car drove away from the hotel. As you watch the hotel disappear in front of you, followed by the car entering the lane along with the hundred cars on the road, that’s when it sinked into you how sad and lonely your wedding day is.
The drive was smooth. It was quiet yet cold that you couldn’t help but to spiral. You missed Jungwon and his dimpled smile. You wished that it was him who’s at the altar, not some freaking yakuza.
That’s when you felt the tears forming on your eyelids and it didn’t help that you started to sob incoherently. You couldn’t even wipe the tears away due to your emotions, your cries became too much that the driver let out a deep sigh.
“All that crying will make you ugly,” you halted when you heard a familiar voice. You look up and that’s when you noticed who was driving the car.
“Sunoo!?” you shout in surprise as you see his face in the rearview mirror.
“You looked lovely bride-to-be,” he smiled. “But I am afraid that the wedding’s not going to happen”
“What?”
“Because you’re going to testify for Jungwon today. He’s holding a private conference today and he’s waiting for you.” he explained, and with that, he turned left, going in the opposite direction of the church.
Your eyes widened at his action, while Sunoo whistled happily before stepping on the gas pedal harder, almost making the car fly on the road.
“Sunoo — turn around please! I must go to the wedding,” you pleaded. “My parent’s in danger if I don't marry Riki.”
But Sunoo only scoffed, “Your parents? Your parents who're going to marry you off to a yakuza? Your parents who exposed and ruined Jungwon’s reputation?”
“Yes, my parents, now please Sunoo, I need to be at the wedding,” you begged but Sunoo remained unfazed.
“Y/n, listen, fuck your parents.” he stated and you were horrified to hear that from him.
“Don’t. Just don’t think about them. Think about yourself, are you seriously going to let yourself save your parents’ selfishness? They put Jungwon in danger, they’re the ones who forced you to marry a yakuza — y/n, you deserve more, you and Jungwon, you two deserve each other,” he lectured.
You became quiet for a moment.
“It’s time to show everyone what you’ve been hiding,” Sunoo added.
“I am scared Sunoo, what’s going to happen to me? To them?” you asked.
“If you love and trust Jungwon enough, you won’t be scared, he’ll be there for you, no matter what,” the man advised smoothly and yet, it didn’t lift the worry in your heart.
“Could I trust you with that?”
“Your parents must be a bunch of assholes for you to have trust issues,” Sunoo commented, “Whatever, just follow your heart or whatever corny shit you’ll do for love.”
The car stopped in front of a small court room. There were hundreds of reporters and photographers gathered outside as they continuously took photos of Jungwon who stood in front of them, holding a microphone pack while he had nothing but a blank expression on his face.
You stared at him, still appalled at the situation. He looked numbed and tired from everything, that your heart frailed in guilt. You remember the last time you two saw each other — he needed you to testify to him with the case.
It’s time for you two to show the world your love that you’ve been hiding for eight years.
“Go,” Sunoo said, making you look at him. The man only smiled at you as he gestured to you once again.
You hesitated for a moment before you opened the door, holding your wedding gown, you took off the veil and walked towards the crowd, stealing their attention from Jungwon who was speaking and now, went silent as he looked at you — surprised to see you here.
Jungwon always envisioned it. That someday, he’d see you walking towards him in your wedding gown, smiling at him as you carry a bouquet of your favorite flowers while he was standing at the end, heart filled with anticipation to marry the woman he had ever loved — Jungwon just didn’t expect that it’d happen earlier — and not during his wedding day.
You look beautiful of course. Breath-taking as your makeup enhanced your features and beauty. You held your head high like you were proud that you’re here, walking towards him without any hesitation — that’s when it struck him.
You’re here for him and for the whole world to know about you and him. You’re here to fight for your love for him.
“You’re here,” he whispered as you stood in front of him.
“I’m here, and I’m scared, but you’re here, so I’m less scared now,” you said to him, letting out a soft chuckle.
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you in this one,” he said before he handed you the microphone pack.
Without any thought, you grabbed the pack from him, before you faced the crowd. Cameras started flashing, and videos were being recorded. The whole world’s about to know about you and Jungwon, so you took a deep breath and spoke.
“I am l/n y/n of Kingsmark Corp. and I am here to stand as a witness for Yang Jungwon and the allegations surrounding him.” You started, trying your best not to break your voice.
“The embezzlement was true, I can testify it because it was my parents who exposed it to the media about Eden groups’ mishandling of funds,” you explained. “This is in order to beat Eden group and make Kingsmark Corp the top company.”
“Is there any proof that it was your parents who did this?” one reporter asked.
“They confessed it to me, verbally,” you answered. “I have a recording of the said conversation with me. I am willing to submit it as evidence upon the court’s request.”
“Mr. & Mrs. l/n paid news outlets for the articles to be published, it was accumulated that they spent five billion won just to expose Eden group,” Jungwon added. “The same five million won they borrowed from Eastnight Inc., which all of you know, has ties with the Nishimura clan.”
That’s when you stopped, looking at Jungwon whose face remained serious.
“In exchange for Eden’s downfall, they sold their only daughter to the Nishimura clan to pay the debt off.” Jungwon’s hands reached for yours and you weren’t able to do anything as you tried to process everything that Jungwon had said.
“Where did you learn that?” one of them asked.
“I will not reveal my resources, but I have documents and files that prove that all of my statements and testaments are true.” Jungwon explained before letting out a deep sigh. “This also proves that I don’t have any involvement in any mishandling of funds of Eden group. It was my parents — they did this behind my back, forging my signature to receive funds from different partners and investors.”
“What about the allegations that you were seen in different places most of the time, this caused suspicion from the investigators, would you like to clarify this part?” another reporter asked.
“It is true, I am always at different places — sketchy places, hidden ones, and seemingly a place to do illegal trades but the truth is, I was just meeting miss y/n,” Jungwon admitted and there it was.
Your secret’s out now. Jungwon said it without any hesitation.
“Miss y/n and I have a relationship. We’ve been seeing each other for eight years now.” Jungwon confessed as he looked at you, who only smiled at his statement.
“But your families are rivals.”
“Hence why they wanted to destroy us, they’re punishing us only because we have loved,” you answered instead. “But we’re here now, talking in front of everyone, to prove that we’re innocent. Our love was real, and it deserves to be known and be out loud. Everything that had happened to us were just schemes by our parents upon discovering our relationship. We’ve done nothing other than to love.”
Saying those words, you felt your chest becoming lighter. All your worries, thoughts, and anxiety disappeared as your hand that held Jungwon’s tightened. He looked at you and without any words, you smiled at him — and that eased his worries too.
“With that said, I am stepping down as the chief executive officer of the Eden group of companies. This is a matter of betrayal from the people I should trust the most. From now on, I don’t want to be involved with the mentioned company.” Jungwon declared
“So do I,” you stated. “I am stepping down as the chief executive officer of Kingsmark corporation. I don’t want to be involved with the mentioned company — and if my parents are watching this, I am not sorry for loving Yang Jungwon.”
Jungwon smirked at your remark. You looked at him with a smile when suddenly, he pulled you close to you before sealing a kiss on your lips.
Cameras started flashing. All you could hear was the continuous press of buttons as Jungwon’s kiss deepened on yours. You didn’t say anything but instead, you closed your eyes before kissing him back, arms wrapped around his shoulder, out loud in public to show everyone and the world that what you two have is real.
As you two broke off the kiss, both smiles were wide as Jungwon grabbed you by your hand and pulled you away from the scene. Reporters tried to get more of your statement but the moment you two had entered the car, Sunoo drove away from the place.
“That was quite a scene you two did there,” Sunoo whistled, glancing at the rearview mirror where you and Jungwon were laughing like idiots on the backseat.
“We make a pretty good team, don’t we?” Jungwon asked and you only smiled.
“Of course,” you quipped. “But what now?”
“We’ll start anew, but not here, somewhere — somewhere where we could act normal, love each other without hiding from the world.” he answered.
“I love that,” you said with bliss.
Jungwon smiled before leaning on you for another kiss, you placed a hand on his face as you kissed him back with the same intensity. It would’ve been longer if it wasn’t for Sunoo who cleared his throat, glaring at the two of you through his rearview mirror.
“I’m still here,” he reminded, making you two separate from each other.
“You know my offer for you to join us still stands,” Jungwon teased and he watched how his best friend visibly gagged.
“Ew, no thanks.”
Your next destination was the airport. You didn’t ask any question and instead placed your trust on Jungwon. You watched as Sunoo casually stirred the wheel, going towards an unfamiliar path which you immediately noticed was a restricted area.
He rolled down his window before he fished out a thick envelope and handed it to the guard who accepted it without any thought. You didn’t pry further and instead, waited for the gates to be open for the car to go inside.
Away from the domestic flights, the car went to a farther area — a place you never thought had existed. The road seemed to be endless until you noticed a jet parked nearby and a few people standing.
Sunoo stopped the car in front of them. Jungwon opened the car and reached for his hands.
“Let’s go,” he said and you don’t know why you hesitated for a moment.
“Are you okay?” Jungwon asked, worried.
“I still feel scared,” you said with all honesty.
Jungwon cupped your cheeks, gentle as he looked at you softly. “I know, but sometimes we have to do something while scared.”
“We’re really going to be free right?” you asked him who only smiled at your simple question.
“Of course, don’t worry about us, I’ve planned everything out, I’m not going to abandon you and the life you’ve lived.” Jungwon assured
You nodded at his words before accepting his hands. He guided you towards the private jet wherein a few men greeted Jungwon with formal handshakes and greetings.
“Is everything set Taki?” Jungwon asked.
“Yeah, Yudai-san and Euijoo hyung’s flying the plane, you should probably go now or it’ll start getting suspicious,” the man, named Taki, replied.
“Good — wait, before we go,” Jungwon said before he looked at you with a smirk.
“What?” you asked.
“Sunoo, can you officiate our wedding?” he asked his best friend suddenly.
“What!?” you shrieked.
“The fuck?” Sunoo cursed as he looked at Jungwon in horror.
“What? It’ll be a waste for your wedding gown, come on, we already have some witnesses here.” Jungwon casually stated, even pointing at the men standing nearby, who seemed entertained at the sudden ceremony.
“We don’t even have a ring.” you rebutted.
“That’s what you thought,” Jungwon chuckled as he grabbed something from his pocket — a velvet box which made your eyes widen.
“What the fuck —” you breathed.
“Will you marry me? Right here, right now?” Jungwon asked as he immediately went onto his knees making you pull him out of the place.
“Seriously?” you exhaled as he stood up from his place, but the smile on his face never faded. Jungwon looked so determined with his request.
“I am serious, come on, everyone’s waiting for you,” Jungwon insisted but you were caught off-guard completely. You stared at him dazed, not knowing what to do especially after everything that just happened today.
“Stop being so dramatic, we’ll leave in ten minutes by the way!” someone shouted from the entrance of the jet, while the rest followed by urging you to agree, making you groan in annoyance.
“Fine, yes Jungwon, of course it’s a yes!” you shouted and Jungwon’s smile only widened.
“Great, now Sunoo, do the honor,.” Jungwon said in a hurry as Sunoo approached you two while muttering curses under his breath.
“Does he even have a license?” you asked.
“I did, I got my license in Vegas,” Sunoo bragged.
“Las fucking vegas, great, just fucking great,” you cursed under your breath, finding the situation funny and unserious.
“Come on y/n, stop being dramatic, you two are going to get married either way. Now, stand in front of me, and wait — I need to find the script — whatever, do you Yang Jungwon, take l/n y/n as your lawfully wedded wife?” Sunoo started.
With that question, Jungwon grabbed the gold band from the box and with ease, slid it on your ring finger, fitting perfectly like it was meant for you.
“I do, in every universe,” he answered, giving you a smile that made your heart feel at ease in the midst of the mess you two are involved in right now.
“Wow cool, okay, do you l/n y/n, take Yang Jungwon as your lawfully wedded husband?” Sunoo asked, looking at you who held her breath throughout.
“For better, for worse, I do,” you answered without any hesitation. You grabbed the ring and copied Jungwon’s action. Seeing the ring fit on his finger, that’s when you realized that he had planned everything all along.
The only thing you should do is trust and be with him.
“By the power vested upon me, I may now announce you husband and wife, you may now kiss your bride and go board the fucking plane,” Sunoo announced and with that, the cheers erupted from the small crowd making you two laugh at the situation.
Jungwon didn’t waste any second. He pulled you close to him and sealed the marriage with a kiss. The kiss felt different, not because you two just got ‘married’ but because it felt light and affirming after conquering every obstacle your love faced.
As you two broke it off, you couldn’t help but to cry in joy as you looked at Jungwon. He’s here with you, alive, breathing, and you two may have ruined both your family’s empire, but it didn’t matter to you anymore especially when all you could think of was your future ahead with Jungwon.
“Let’s go?” He asked and you nodded, letting him lead you towards the staircase up to the jet.
“All set?” Yudai asked from the cockpit.
“Yup, we’re all good here,” Jungwon said as he put on your seatbelt before his.
“Where to?” Yudai asked while Euijoo closed the door.
“Iceland,” Jungwon answered and you were confused.
“Why there?”
“For our honeymoon?” he replied like it was a matter of fact.
You laughed at his answer. “Oh my god, you’re really convinced that we got married.”
“Our rings say otherwise.” Jungwon rebutted.
“Are we serious about Iceland?” Eujioo interrupted.
“Dead serious,” Jungwon answered before glancing at you. “Don’t worry, we have a lot of time in this world to get married, for real this time.”
You hummed, looking at him with your heart swelling with anticipation. “I would very much love that Jungwon.”
A few minutes later, the jet had taken off. You watched from your window seat how Seoul slowly became smaller and smaller until the only thing you could see was the sea of clouds under the blue sky.
That’s when you felt Jungwon’s hands intertwined around yours. He gave you a smile before giving your hand — the one with a ring on it, a kiss. You didn’t say anything but your heart and soul knows that you’re flying towards the future you were dreaming for with Jungwon.
No more hiding, no more hotel room meetups, and hushed conversations — starting from today, it’ll be you, Jungwon, and the whole world who'll witness your love.
— 𝑆 ⋆. . ᐟ The task your mother has bestowed upon you is simple, go on 3 dates and bring back home a well mannered gentleman, after all she complains you’ve been single for far too long and it’s about time you settle down. But in this day and age, it’s embarrassing to be attached, especially when you already have everything you possible could want in life. So you come up with a devious plan to drive these men crazy, using just the mischievous tricks you have up your sleeves
WELCOME TO THE BACHELORS : series
─── ⊹ ࣪ ˖ enha!02 x 𝖋!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗.
— ຟ ⋆. . ᐟ: Comedic base, Inappropriate jokes and languages used, cringey characters, over exaggeration, nepotism, rich heir, snobby characters, ragebaiting, bimbo depictions, male stereotyping, embarrasing moments, I wrote this at 2am, arranged dates, match making, usage of slut/bitch/prositute, misandry, business proposal, featuring aespa
You stare at your mother wide eyed with your knuckles balled into fist, your sharp acrylic nails digging crescents into the flesh of your palm. She sits cross legged across from you, seemingly feigning ignorance towards your distress, as she continuously sips on her steaming cappuccino.
“Mom are you crazy?” You sneer through gritted teeth, shooting sharp daggers at her relaxed figure as you sink deeper into the velvet couch.
“Do you genuinely think we’re in the 19 hundreds, where you just play Cupid or match maker like it’s going to work?”
She sets down her ceramic mug, body leaning forward as she pushed the manila files on the table towards you. “I want grandkids, and I want them now!”
Your mouth gaps open in disbelief as you scan the empty restaurant, there were only waitresses standing on the side with poised postures pretending that they weren’t eavesdropping on the conversation. Yet the minute they felt your gaze on them, their heads dropped sharply towards the ground, avoiding your silent cry of help.
“I’m not some seven year old who you can order around anymore ok, I’m independent and capable and— and I don’t need some man to come around and dictate my life!” You whined in annoyance flailing your hands around as you tried to exaggerate why you didn’t need a measly boy that would bring no benefits into your life, other than being an accessory and a liability.
You even bought up your cousin’s relationship as an example, talking about how her long term boyfriend aka soon to be fiancé cheated on her with her best friend weeks before the wedding, stating that men were despicable creatures who pounced on anything if it meant they could gain the opportunity of getting their dicks wet.
Furthermore, you also talked about how your roommate in university contracted STDS from her frat boyfriend, who claimed that she was his first everything, supporting your claim of men being cunning.
Or that time when your bestfriend, Giselle told you her 3 years long boyfriend came out to her as gay, after she caught him making out with her uncle at her family’s yearly Christmas dinner.
Your mother merely pursed her lips, offering nothing more than a helpless shrug, as though this was simply the way life worked, just unfair, merciless and entirely beyond anyone’s control.
She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the chair with an almost unsettling calmness, her expression unreadable.
For a brief, fragile moment, silence was the only thing that settled between the two of you.
Then she spoke.
The words left her mouth with terrifying ease, devoid of hesitation, like a threat tied with a pink ribbon.
Each syllable landing like a hammer against your chest.
In an instant, it felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath your feet. The air suddenly too thin to breathe and your thoughts splintered into a thousand jagged pieces.
Your world, so carefully held together moments ago, came crashing down all at once.
Even the waitresses came to an abrupt halt mid step.
One stood frozen with a tray balanced perfectly in one hand. Another had her pen hovering over a notepad, halfway through taking an order. A third slowly turned her head toward your table, eyes widening with the unmistakable expression of someone witnessing a once in a lifetime disaster unfold in real time.
One of them even subtly traced the sign of the cross over her chest before quickly pretending to wipe down an already spotless table.
May God be with you.
“If you don’t go on the dates—
I’m freezing your credit card.”
RESEARCH #1: Men hate gold diggers.
This research is backed by none other than, Ningning, herself. The biggest man eater alive, her evidence being that she went on a date with a guy to Nobu, and he sneered at her stating that she was only with him because he was driving a Mercedes after she simply asked where he worked.
He then proceeded to insult her for being poor, with his observations being based on her dirty shoes that had holes on the side and her ripped grey oversized shirt, saying that she was purposely trying to wring him dry of his money.
Best believe she jumped out of her seat and gave that man a harsh slap to the cheek, so hard that her palm print was basically imprinted onto his face.
Though it serves her right, for choosing to wear Balenciaga on the first date!
You’ve already studied the subject beforehand, and to your surprise he’s actually quite a big name in the real estate industry.
Heir to one of the wealthiest businessman in the world, even featuring on Forbe’s list. This guy falls perfectly into the mould of a snobbish chaebol, who has probably had his fair share of encountering women who pretentiously fall into his lap in exchange for a few Chanel bags.
His Instagram is filled with curated post of yachts, company dinners, and numerous private jet flights to islands that could be used in spelling bee contests because of their extravagant names.
Everything about him seemed organised, and he was the epitome of opulence.
And so you emulate.
Because the goal here, is to look like you’re feigning wealth, when in reality everything looks like they were picked up from a second hand corner store.
You style your hair into dramatic curls, the main inspiration being sideshow bob from the Simpson, as you over line your lips dramatically depicting a failed Kylie Jenner cosplay.
Your dress is a borrowed tube from Karina’s closet, and it’s one that looks like it could be found in the clearance section at the downtown thrift store, especially with its ugly design of the Versace logo plastered all over it, making it look faker than any chin tuck.
When you slip into the chair across from your date, you make sure to aggressively plant the fake pink Louis Vuitton bag on the table, one that you and Giselle went to get from a flea market a few days before, laughing at the poor stitching and colour difference.
You watch in silent satisfaction as he raises an eyebrow at your appearance, before letting out a cough to mask his discomfort.
He stands from his seat, extending a hand to you for a handshake, to which you blatantly ignore as you pretend to look at your nails.
He’s dumbfounded, and definitely taken aback by your rudeness, so he slowly sinks back into his chair. “My name’s Jay, nice to meet y—“
“Yeah yeah, names Yn, so what’s your annual salary?” You cut him off, staring straight into his eyes, poor guy has his head tilted in confusion, mouth open as he figures out how to reply you.
“I mean, as you can tell from my bag and clothes, I’m high maintenance so obviously I need a real man to provide,” you spurt out shamelessly as you continued to pick at your fresh manicure.
Jay’s eyes scruntise you from head to toe, to the bag on the table, one that he can obviously tell is fake. The stitching is uneven, the leather has an unnatural sheen and the flap is a noticeably different shade from the rest of the bag. Moreover the logo isn’t quite centered either, a detail that practically screams counterfeit.
He squints at you almost as if trying to see if you’re playing some kind of sick joke on him. Thinking if this is an elaborate social experiment or prank, or if you’ve geniunely somehow managed to walk out of the house this morning completely convinced the bag had fooled anyone.
His hands adjust the tie fastened around his collar, as he leans back, “While I run my own company,” you start to play along feigning interest as your eyes perk up.
“The annual profits range from a million to billions depending on trade and network shares.”
Bingo!
Your entire demeanor does a complete one eighty, like that one Dua lipa song.
The disinterested expression you previously had vanishes as though someone had flipped a switch. Suddenly, you’re staring at him with exaggerated fascination, eyes widening theatrically as you bat your outrageously fake eyelashes depicting a malfunctioning windshield wiper.
“Oh… really?” you drawl, as if the mention of profits has single handedly altered the trajectory of your life.
Leaning forward, you rest your elbows on the table, deliberately pushing yourself closer while propping your chin in your hands. Your lips purse into what you think is a seductive pout.
In reality?
You look like you’re aggressively trying to win first place in a duck face competition.
The performance is so painfully over the top that even the waiter passing by slows down for half a second, silently wondering whether he should intervene or simply pretend none of this is happening.
Across from you, Jay doesn’t react. He just stares, then blinks once.
The look on his face suggests he’s mentally drafting an email to his father demanding financial compensation for emotional distress.
You try your hardest to stifle a laugh at your victory, feeling a smirk inching its way to the corner of your lips.
He only let’s out a deep sigh before he snaps his head away from you, fingers raised in the air to signal the waiter over.
As the waiter steps over, menu in hand and notepad in the other, you rush to stand, hands stretched out cutting them off in second.
“How can I hel-“
“I’ll do it!” You excitedly said, practically snatching the menu away from their embrace, as you sat down fingers rubbing against as your chin as if you were contemplating.
Jay watches this ordeal with a snarl plastered on his face, silently shooting curses at you while you sit hunched over the paper shamelessly ordering practically everything on it.
You purposely butcher all the pronunciation of the most exquisite dishes, pointing your fingers over the menu from caviar, steaks, haute chocolate cakes, foie gras. Jay only stays quiet as his fingers pinch his glabella trying to lessen the migraine that you have caused.
“You’re paying right?” You ask brazenly as the waiter walks away, puckering your lips at Jay with such sweetness that it made you want to puke inside.
He’s is clearly morbidly fascinated by your audacity, but chooses to mask it behind his poker face, as he just sends you a silent nod.
“Well I hope you just understand that I like nice things,” You explain pointing towards your bag, “eleven million won, limited edition collection from LV, so obviously I need a man to provide for me because I know what I bring to the table!”
He snaps his head up, muttering out, “So what exactly… do you bring to the table?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” You gesture to yourself.
For the third time tonight, Jay finds himself speechless, as he just purses his lip tightly, looking at you as if you were an alien that had somehow crawled its way onto earth.
YOU 1 : 0 MEN
RESEARCH #2: Smart men hate bimbos.
“No way your next date is Sunghoon,” Winter mutters out with a horrified expression on her face as she plays with her corgi on the carpeted floor, rubbing the dog’s belly as drool spilled over from its mouth.
“Didn’t he score full marks on the CSAT and went to go do his undergraduate at Harvard?” Giselle asked as she walked into the room, hands full of snacks that she had just stolen from Winter’s kitchen pantry.
Winter nodded, before Ningning said something.
“I mean… smart guys hate dumb girls, right?”
“If he thinks you’re an airhead, he’ll totally lose interest immediately.”
Across the room, Ningning had looked up from the Nintendo Switch balanced on her lap, where she’d been recreating both Winter and Karina in Tomodachi Life.
You suddenly sat straight up from the bean sack you were laying on, pointing your fingers eagerly in her direction, a bright lightbulb appeared in your head bestowing you with a genius idea.
And with the courtesy of Karina’s connection, the five of you guys were able to infiltrate into his private Instagram account that just consisted of professionally taken pictures of graduate ceremony and court cases.
As well as the embedded link in his bio, that led to the official website of the prestigious law firm his grandfather founded, where he was working as a senior counsel at just 23. Talk about tryhard.
This time when you walked into the private dining room of the restaurant, you made sure to wear a pink off shoulder cardigan paired with the shortest denim skirt you could find in your closet. And with the kind help of Winter’s enthusiastic styling skills, your hair had been neatly braided into two pigtails.
Sunghoon sat uninterested at the table in the Center of the room, staring as you walked in, scrunching up his face at your choice of style.
He’s a stoic guy with no interest for romance, hearsay that he might even struggles with erectile dysfunction or swing the other way, purely because it’s rare to see Sunghoon tangled up with a woman.
Truthfully the only reason he’s sitting across from you is because his father made it abundantly clear that this wasn’t a request and it was an ultimatum. Show up to the date, or pack up his desk and kiss his position at the family firm goodbye.
“Oh my gosh, you must be Sunghoon!” You greet him in the highest pitch you can let out, before absolutely tripping over nothing, purposely knocking over the glass of water on the table onto his crisp white button up shirt.
Ice cubes clatter across the tabletop as freezing water surges over the edge, spilling into Sunghoon’s lap before cascading onto the polished floor. He instinctively sucks in a sharp breath, immediately pushing his chair back as the icy water drenches the front of his white buttoned up.
Within seconds, the fabric clung to him, soaked through completely. The outline of his broad shoulders and toned physique becomes unmistakably visible beneath the damp material.
You let out a gasp feigning surprise as you drop onto your knees, fingers fumbling for the napkin on the table, as you hurriedly dab it onto his chest.
"I’m so so so so sorry,” you start to profusely apologise as you continued dragging the napkin over his chest. His fingers curl around your wrist, halting you mid action.
He sucks in a breath, before dragging you up from the floor, “Just— just take a sit.”
"I'm truly sorry. I just get so anxious whenever I meet new people, and it makes me all jittery.” You ramble on, hands flailing around as you exaggerated your words.
“I just get so nervous that I get butterfingers and then I do stupid stuff and then— and—" You stop mid sentence taking in a breath.
“Sorry, I just do this when I’m nervous, I just— talk and talk—“
"Got it." He stops you off mid sentence, reaching out for another glass of water on the table. "You're nervous."
You let out a small giggle, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap as you pretend to look helpless. “You’re just so scary and intimating you know, everybody paints you out as this ice prince incapable of emotions!”
You scratch your head, forming your lips into a cute pout as you continue on, “But I mean I’m sure those horror stories of you being a brutal lawyer are all just exaggeration right? I’m sure you’re really soft and caring underneath.“
“Some even have the audacity to say you might struggle with down ther—“ you continue on finger pointing towards your own abdomen, trying to insinuate something.
"Are you done?" He finally snaps, his eyes shooting daggers into your figure as he places down his glass.
“No— I mean yes?” You bury your face into your hands, letting out a long sigh as you slump forward onto the table, trying to make yourself seem pitiful. “I’m just so bad at this, I can’t even go anywhere without my butler guiding me, I don’t know why my parents made me do this.”
Sunghoon’s expression slowly crumples into utter disbelief. Another longgg exhausted sigh escapes him as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. Fingers drifting to his temples, rubbing slow circles as though pressure itself might soothe the migraine rapidly forming behind his eyes.
He silently repeats the same mantra over and over in his head like some Shaolin monk, clinging to the last thread of self restraint keeping him glued to his seat. Because every instinct was already screaming at him to stand up and walk straight out the restaurant doors, pretending this date had never happened
YOU 2 : 0 MEN
RESEARCH #3: Men hate bitches.
According to Karina, this third subject is the epitome of an angel that has been dropped by the heavens onto earth, quoting that he’s the dream man every mother would want their own daughters to marry, and every men sought to be.
Karina says he spends his weekends travelling to take care of stray dogs and build shelters for them, and spending his weekdays dutifully running his parents hospital.
Though in your eyes he’s just another obstacle that you have to spend another Saturday wasting on.
“Well if he’s so nice and a model citizen, why not you just be the rebellious douche?” Giselle said yawning as she plays with the purple needoh that Ningning stole from some poor kid.
You leaned back onto the backrest of Karina’s bed, stretching your hands above your head, “Like what?”
“Like a walking hazard threatening to set the next person who ask you to cover up on fire!” Ningning says in a ‘duh’ tone, trudging into the room with a blonde Afro wig that looks like it was stolen by a circus this time.
Jake’s Instagram is pristine, fillled with pictures of him and his dog, families, friends, famous landmarks from different travel lodge, he’s basically the aesthetic of the perfect boy next door.
And so with unwavering determination and adrenaline fuelled by too many red bulls, you meticulously piece together what you would proudly consider a foolproof plan.
One guaranteed to shatter every expectation Jake has for this date.
You were going to show up dressed in an outfit that looked less like something you’d wear to dinner and more like something ripped straight out of a clearance bin “prostitute” Halloween costume.
Black lace tank top so tight your tits are about to spill out showing your cleavage on full display, it left so little to the imagination that even you had to do a double take in the mirror. The slit black mini skirt was questionably short and your the heels were criminally high.
Your lips are coated in a dark maroon shade of red that screams man eater, and a Smokey eye that Ningning herself drew for you, quoting that not even Kim Kardashain could compete.
Your motto this time is simple, be a total bitch.
If Jake thought tonight was going to be some picture perfect, romantic evening, he was about to have those expectations obliterated before the appetizers even arrived.
The soft clicking of your heels echoed across the polished marble floor, each step announcing your arrival long before you reached the table. You sauntered through the restaurant with utmost confidence, hips swaying in rhythm left right.
Jake looked up at the sound, already seated with one arm resting against the chair, dressed in a fitted navy zip up layered over a crisp white tee and tailored black slacks. Total finance bro.
You place the vape, that Ningning stole from another elementary kid, onto the table. Making his eyes instantly drop onto the object before masking his surprised expression with a courteous smile, with one hand rubbing his nape.
“Hello, I’m Jake, nice to meet you.” He greets you, eyes darting around trying to avoid blatantly staring at your cleavage that is in full on display.
You completely ignore him, obnoxiously chewing on the gum in your mouth, making sure to smack your lips so loudly it could drive a sane men haywire.
Jake lets out a cough at your actions trying to hide his distaste behind his crescent shaped eyes and curved lips, turning awkwardly away to scan the empty restaurant that had been booked specifically for this date, not knowing what to do.
You just blow a small bubble right in his face, before fishing out your phone from your YSL purse, scrolling through Instagram reels and blasting the volume on full as you exaggerate your fake giggles.
Though Jake could see your screen through the reflections in your eyes, and he was dumbfounded at how you found cooking recipes humorous, but he’s not one to judge.
“So uhm, what do you usually like to do on your weekends?” He clears his throat meekly asking as he adjusted his posture to straighten his back, eyes darting anywhere but at your very scandalous outfit.
You close your phone, slamming it onto the table, before clicking your tongue in annoyance.
“Do you ever just shut up?” You mutter, snapping your head up to look at him never once breaking eye contact. Your glare is so utterly merciless, it feels like it’s drilling straight through him.
Jake’s entire body locks up as his confidence evaporates on the spot, legs turning to jelly beneath him. Had he not already been sitting down, he was certain he would’ve crumpled to the floor without a shred of dignity by your sheer audacity.
His face is instantly washed over with a terrified expression, eyebrows knitting together so tightly they nearly touch while his lips pull into a disbelieving frown. For what feels like the first time in his life, he’s rendered completely speechless.
Jake’s brain short circuits, somehow instead of forming coherent thoughts, it instinctively begins reciting every bible verse and prayer he’s ever memorised, silently begging for divine intervention to descend from the heavens and teleport him out of this situation.
Though his eyes are still stuck on the top of your scalp.
YOU 3 : 0 MEN
RESULTS #4: Sometimes faith is cruel?
“Can’t believe you did all of that, hope they don’t file a restraining order against you babe!” Giselle laughs out, clutching her stomach.
You only laid sideways on the velvet sofa, physically and mentally exhausted by everything that has happened in the past week whining weakly, “I desperately need an ice cold tea, and 50 thousand to splurge at the mall, life is just too cruel.”
The five of you had somehow, against all odds, managed to invade Winter’s house yet again. At this point, nobody even bothered asking for permission anymore as it had unofficially become the group’s second home. Shoes were kicked off by the entrance, half empty drink cans littered the coffee table and the living room was filled with overlapping conversations.
Ningning had completely occupied one corner of the room, absentmindedly poking through Winter’s evergrowing slime collection with the fascination of a child. Every few seconds she’d stretch one out dramatically before letting it snap back into her hands, proudly showing off the oddly satisfying textures to absolutely nobody.
Meanwhile, Karina had somehow made herself comfortable on the floor beside Winter’s fluffy corgi, who was sprawled out on its back in complete bliss.
“Who’s the cutest baby?” she cooed, scratching its stomach until its tiny back leg began kicking uncontrollably. The dog looked seconds away from falling asleep from all the attention.
Giselle lounged across the other sofa with the television running in the background, lazily catching a grape that Winter tossed in her direction. “Seriously?” she laughed after nearly missing it.
Winter only grinned, carrying over the bowl of grapes before dropping onto the carpet. “At least you don’t have to constantly play dress up anymore,” she teased, nudging your leg with her shoulder. “I swear, every time we hung out before, someone wanted to experiment on you with a new outfit.”
“You mean Ms Ningning right?” Upon hearing her own name, Ningning snapped her head up so fast it looked like she might’ve gotten whiplash, lips pouting as if she had just gotten framed for another crime.
You let out a quiet laugh, rolling onto your back, your legs lazily swinging over the edge as you unlocked your phone. Your thumb mindlessly flicked through post after post of vacation photos, memes, concert clips, friends complaining about work. The chatter around you slowly melted into background noise.
Then— a notification slid across the top of your screen.
Your thumb froze.
The smile faded from your face almost instantly as your stomach tightened into a knot. It felt as though all the warmth in the room had been sucked away in a single heartbeat.
You felt the familiar sickening feeling of your heart dropping straight into your stomach.
Three messages all came at once, coincidentally at the same time as well, all by the three people you were praying never to hear from again.
Jay Park: Hey, it was really nice meeting you, up for second round?
Park Sunghoon: I want to take you out for a second date.
Jake Sim: Are you free sometime next week for coffee?
“What…the…?” You stuttered out before letting out a horrified scream at the top of your lungs dropping your phone onto the duvet and ruffling your hairs in panic, making the four other girls snap their heads towards you in concern.
you and ni-ki are best friends but can’t face the truth behind your friendship.
- plug riki! x fem reader
warnings: angst, fluff, arguing, cursing, ni-ki and reader are both stupid, jake (sorry jakey), mentions of weed and alcohol, yearning ni-ki, one puke scene, kissing and skin-ship. think black hair mullet ni-ki. lmk if i miss any! also this fic is kinda long, i apologize
college had been boring at first during freshman year. you dove yourself headfirst into your studies, a plan to keep up your grades and try to join any extracurriculars you had time for. and at first you did. you maintained mainly A’s and had joined a pottery class for fun. but all of that came crashing down when you were invited to a frat party.
a girl from your history class invited you, eunchae. she had dark black hair at the time, always barefaced except for her lips which were a perfect glossed rose color, and she still had some of her baby fat in her cheeks. she was sweet and you two clicked instantly.
so you didn’t hesitate to go with her once she asked. you still remember how the floorboards vibrated from how loud the music was. and the god awful smell of the house. you nearly gagged, turning to eunchae with a grimace.
but besides the foul stench, it was the most fun you’d two had. she had poured you two shot after shot. saying it was ‘the right of way’ whatever that meant. you were still trying to figure it out.
but after a while you needed some fresh air, stumbling to the patio. it wasn’t nearly as crowded as inside — only a couple standing near the railing and some people around the fire pit. you cleared your throat softly, glancing around before finding a small gazebo.
who would have thought a frat house would have a gazebo? you let out a loud sigh, heels clicking against the wood. you took one step inside before freezing.
two boys sat there, one looking relaxed as ever and the other one widening their eyes in panic. your eyes flicked down to the small plastic baggy being passed between them, weed. you glanced at the anxious one before he snatched the bag.
he cleared his throat and stood up looking between you two awkwardly. “um- thanks. yeah.” he rushed out and you watched him go before turning back to the other one.
he had black hair that faded into blonde on top, his eyes were sharp and low, his lips full and pink. “this your drug spot or what?” you asked bluntly. you saw his shoulders move an inch, one of his brows arching the tiniest bit.
“who says it was?” you scoffed and sat down on the opposite side from him, pushing your hair back. your head tilted back against one of the posts, your eyes closing as you tried to sober up a bit.
the boy watched you, completely unbothered by your presence. he sniffled once before digging in his pockets. you heard something rustle before you heard the click of a lighter. your eyes opened and zeroed in on the joint he was lighting.
he inhaled the smoke, lips wrapped around the paper as his eyes lifted to yours. he pulled the joint away, holding the smoke in for a second and offering the joint to you.
you eyed it. you’d never smoked before. but here was a cute guy offering his own weed. fuck it, why not? you reached out and grabbed it, fingers brushing against his.
you looked at it quickly, wrapping your lips around the end and inhaling. your eyes widened and you pulled away, coughing like a maniac.
“woah. you good?” if you weren’t in the middle of dying you would’ve blushed from his voice, how deep and gravely it sounded. “you never smoke before?”
you sat up slowly, eyeing the joint before passing it back. “what gave it away?” you mumbled
“probably coughing up your lung.” he snickered quietly to himself and took another hit. you two stared at each other for a quiet moment. “i’m ni-ki.”
“y/n.” he hummed and looked away, slowly taking hits off the joint. the longer you two sat there the more you felt the alcohol and weed hit.
your eyes felt heavy and low at the same time, your limbs feeling like jelly. time felt like it had slowed, the party moving in slow motion. you looked at the floor, brows furrowed together.
was the floor moving? and what was that awful garbling sound? your eyes closed momentarily and you felt your world tip on its axis. stars spun behind your eyes, your stomach tying up in knots.
the garbling noise got louder, your ears ringing. your chest heaved once, mouth salivating and throat tightening. then you heaved again, and again-
“jesus!” ni-ki stood up, grimacing at your vomit on the gazebo floor. “shit,” he sighed stubbing out his joint. he placed it in his pocket once it was out and carefully moved to your side. he grabbed your hair and gathered it behind you, his other hand steadying your shoulders.
“that one hit really got you, huh?” he chuckled helping you up.
tears pricked your eyes, the embarrassment of what you’d just done hitting you. “oh my god. i’m so sorry! oh my god that’s so gross!” he rubbed your shoulder soothingly, letting you lean most of your weight against him.
“it’s okay. chi kappa sucks ass anyway.” he led you inside to the nearest bathroom and helped you clean up. ni-ki helped you sit on the toilet and stole a clean rag from the cabinet above you. he ran the water warm and carefully wiped around your mouth.
he helped you up to the sink and let you rinse your mouth out with water, his hand placed around his waist respectfully. your palms were planted against the edge of the sink, eyes closing momentarily as you tried to gain some semblance of control.
“here,” he pulled out a pack of gum and handed you a stick. “you’re beautiful, but your breath isn’t.” despite how humiliated you should have been you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“you’re funny.” you slurred. you had felt a little better after throwing up, still feeling light from the weed.
ni-ki leaned against the door with his arms crossed watching you. “you okay?” you nodded your head and turned your back to the sink.
“thanks for helping me.” you said softly. he gave you a small smile, nodding his head.
“anyone would’ve helped a pretty girl like you.” you smiled at the compliment, a flutter in your chest before you gasped.
“eunchae!” ni-ki’s brows drew together as he looked down at you.
“who?” you groaned and nudged him away from the door quickly leaving to find your friend. ni-ki followed you, gently grabbing ahold of your arm when you accidentally stumbled into someone. “hey, calm down. who are you looking for?”
“my friend. she’s around here-“
“y/nnie!” you let out an ‘oomph’ and stumbled into riki’s side. eunchae was clinging to you, cheeks flushed a shade darker than the last time you saw her. “you’ve been gone for sooo long!” you couldn’t help but giggle at her, patting her head before helping her stand up straight.
“alright, come on you two.” ni-ki sighed one hand on eunchae’s shoulder and the other on yours leading you two towards the front door.
and the rest was history. you three had become best friends, seeing each other at your best and worst for the last three years.
the library was quiet, you and eunchae sitting in your usual table in the corner. it allowed you two to be a little loud without being glared at.
eunchae’s cheeks had grown out of their baby fat, hair a auburn color now, and her makeup done to perfection that it looked like she wasn’t even wearing any.
you sighed irritatedly, fingers slowly curling into fists. “who the hell decided to assign a ten page essay before midterms?” eunchae snickered at you from across the table, her notes sprawled out in front of her.
“you look like you’re about to explode.” you gave her a look and pressed the space bar staring at your blank essay.
“what’s she complaining about?” ni-ki asked coming up behind you. his arms caged you in, his chin resting on your shoulder looking at your screen. “ah, english. not your strongest suit.” he kissed the side of your head while you scoffed, hands raised in defense.
“what? like it’s yours?” he shrugged his shoulders and playfully ruffled eunchae’s hair before taking the seat between you two.
he had grown a lot since you first met him. his baby fat was replaced with sharp cheekbones and an even sharper jawline. his frame had grown leaner, his arms bulkier than before. his hair was back to his natural black, hair slightly creeping down the nape of his neck into loose waves.
“riki-yah, you reek.” eunchae grimaced waving her hand in front of her nose. the strong smell of weed radiated off him, mixing with his rich cologne. unlike eunchae, you loved the way ni-ki smelt. he smelt like his usual clean, musk mixed with the weed.
“sorry, i thought i sprayed enough.” he gave her a small smile and she sighed, letting it go. you turned to ni-ki immediately, pushing your computer towards him.
“help me, help me.” you begged quietly, giving him your best pleading look. he sighed and grabbed one of his notebooks, voice low enough for just you.
“why should i?” you hummed and briefly glanced at his lips before looking back at him.
“because you love me.” you pulled your chair closer to his and pulled up your rubric. ni-ki’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer until your side pressed against his. he leaned his head against yours, eyes meeting with eunchae’s as he did so.
she glanced at you before wiggling her eyebrows. ni-ki shook his head, widening his eyes to tell her to stop. she stifled a laugh before letting out a long sigh and stretching. “i should get going. you know, i have that thing to do.”
“what thing?” you asked watching her pack up.
“mhm! that one!” you looked at ni-ki and he shook his head looking at the younger girl. “bye guys! don’t have too much fun.” you rolled your eyes and went back to your computer. missing the wink eunchae tossed at ni-ki.
he helped you with the beginning part of your essay, proofreading your paragraphs and helong you tweak minor mistakes. “seriously ki, i would have lost my mind if you didn’t help.” you said watching him read your first three paragraphs after all the revision.
his lips quirked into that small, soft smile that always made you melt. “hate to walk across that stage without you, princess.” you sighed happily and rested your head against his shoulder.
“you’re so sweet, ki.” he didn’t say anything, turning his head to press another kiss to your temple.
after another hour of doing work — more like riki doing most of it while you watched — riki stretched his limbs and looked at you.
“wanna smoke?”
⋆˙⟡
you and ni-ki went back to his place, the moon rising above the city and blanketing it in silver light. he lived about twenty five minutes away from campus, a one bed with a stupidly good view of the river. you had spent more nights at his place than you could count, often hanging out or having movie nights there.
you claimed his apartment had the ‘perfect ambiance’ and he only smiled trying to find reasons to always have you over now.
he unlocked the door and let you in first. “thanks.” you mumbled stepping in. you took off your shoes and left them near the front door. you didn’t wait for him as you made your way to his room, ready to lay down on his bed.
you carefully pushed open his door and walked over to the left side of the bed — or ‘your’ side of the bed. something ni-ki stated one night — and dropped down. ni-ki walked into his room and shook his head.
“oh make yourself at home.” he mumbled sarcastically grabbing his rolling tray and pack of papers. he sat beside you and placed the tray in his lap as he started to get everything ready.
your head turned to him “i feel very at home thank you. are you going to sunghoon’s party?” you asked him. ni-ki froze momentarily, brow ticking before his face went back to normal.
“you know i don’t like you going over there.” you rolled your eyes waving a dismissive hand towards him. he spared you a brief glance, his fingers folding the edges of the paper.
“they’re your friends.” you played with the end of your hair, twirling it around your finger “besides jake invited me. he’s kind of…cute.” ni-ki felt his heart stop, head turning to face you.
“what? no. no way.” he scoffed. your brows furrowed as you eyed him up and down.
“what’s wrong with me thinking he’s cute?” ni-ki shook his head, his face souring at the thought of you and jake.
“it’s gross. he’s…a friend and you’re my girl-“
“but we’re not together!”
ni-ki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before setting down the paper and rolling tray in front of him. he turned his body to you, grabbing one of your hands.
“you know that’s not what i mean.” but he wishes so badly that was the case. “you’re my favorite girl in the whole world. i’d kick jake’s ass if he hurt you.” your lips curled into that sweet, teasing smile that made ni-ki’s heart ache.
“awe ki, don’t be jealous. you’ll always be my number one.” you squeezed his hand at the same time his heart did so. “but i promise i won’t get with jake. i don’t want to make things awkward.” he watched your face soften as you spoke, your eyes boring into his.
he nodded his head and leaned closer to press a kiss to your cheek, his hand sneaking up to your waist and squeezing gently. “my girl.” your heart skipped a beat. the raw possessiveness in his voice made your stomach dip.
you knew ni-ki didn’t like sharing most things. especially you. you told yourself that’s what it was. that he didn’t want one of his friends to be close to you. that’s all.
you gently pushed him away from you, a hand on his chest and your cheeks pink. “shut up, riki.” you mumbled. he only grinned and went back to leaning against his headboard and continued to roll. he pulled you into his side gently before he focused back on rolling.
you grabbed his remote and browsed through the movies available. you settled on some action movie that you two always seemed to watch at least once a month.
your eyes wandered around his room, always clean and organized. he had small figurines and collectables lined on shelves above his desk in the corner of his room. his desk had his pc and computer, keyboard and mouse softly glowing. his sketchbook sat there with some other notebooks.
he had a bookshelf with one shelf full of books, some of them tabbed with small neon sticky notes peeking from the pages. the one beneath it was lined with his favorite albums in cd’s and vinyls, each one stacked perfectly to preserve their look. the next one had three framed photos and a matching duck plushy he had gotten with you.
in one photo it was him and his family at his graduation. he had his arms wrapped around his mom and little sister. he had a boxy smile on his face, his little sister beaming up at him and her hands mid clap, and his mom smiling at him with tears in her eyes. his eldest sister wore his cap, a bright smile on her face as she hugged their dads side. and their dad watching all of them with a small, soft smile.
the second photo was of him and his friend group. all seven of them had met in middle school, sticking it out since then and never growing apart. it was the night ni-ki turned 18. they had surprised him with dinner at his favorite japanese style restaurant. the seven of them were cramped together. heeseung, sunghoon, jay, and jungwon stood behind the other three. sunoo and jake were crouched on either side on ni-ki who sat in the middle with sparkling eyes. all of them were smiling hard, cheeks slightly flushed from the laughter they had shared that night.
and the third photo was of you and him. it was taken during his 21st birthday. you had surprised him with a party, taking him home to a ‘movie night’ only to have his closest friends already there. in the photo you were holding the cake, candles lit and a smile on your face as you looked at him. ni-ki had a beer in one hand, his other one going to rest over yours holding up the cake. his eyes were sparkling in this one too, crinkling a bit at the edges as he grinned.
ni-ki cleared his throat and placed the joint on your thigh, passing you a lighter shortly after. he placed the rolling tray on the nightstand behind him and laid more comfortably. he was on his back, his left arm around your waist as he pressed you to his side and his right arm casually resting behind his head as he watched the movie.
you placed the smaller end between your lips and flicked the lighter, burning the end. it glowed a cherry red, the familiar taste of weed filling your mouth. you held it in for a second before slowly exhaling, passing the joint to him.
his lips wrapped around the end and tasting the strawberry chapstick you usually wore. his eyes closed as it mixed with the drug, creating something herbal and sweet. he blew the smoke out slowly and glanced down at you.
you’d be the death of him and you wouldn’t even know it. he let out a quiet sigh and took another long drag, smoke curling in the air around you two.
you two passed the joint back and forth a couple times, a comfortable silence settling. you had moved closer to him, almost on top of him as your cheek pressed against his chest.
“you want it?” you turned your head towards his outstretched hand and lowered your mouth to the end of the joint, your lips grazing the tips of his fingers.
ni-ki’s teeth grazed his bottom lip, hand twitching from your close proximity. his eyes followed you pulling away, ghosting the smoke and letting out a small cough at the end.
you went back to laying against him, hand snaking underneath his shirt and laying flat against his toned stomach. ni-ki could feel your body slowly weighing more against him, the weed making you melt.
he took a hit and gently grabbed your jaw with his hand, careful to keep the lit end away from your face. his lips ghosted over yours, exhaling the smoke into your mouth. you inhaled deeply and let out a small hum, eyes fluttering close.
ni-ki had to force himself to pull away, gently guiding your head back to his chest. “you’re killing me, baby.” he mumbled, his voice a deep rumble in the room. you sleepily hummed, lips beginning to pout as you dozed off.
ni-ki gently brushed some stray hairs from your face, his thumb gently rubbing small circles against your cheek. “you wanna go home?” he asked you, head dipping lower so you can hear him. your brows twitched, legs stretching out on top of him.
“mmph.” he chuckled and took one last hit before stubbing it out in his ashtray. he pulled you closer and gently ran his fingers through your hair.
“shhh. i’m right here.” he felt your body go limp against him, the even motion of your chest moving slightly letting him know you had fallen asleep already.
he stayed up a little longer before the weed made him more tired. he let out a small yawn and let go of you momentarily to get up and change out of his clothes. he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and began to strip before putting them on. he glanced at you still in your clothes and sighed.
he grabbed one of his shirts and carefully shook you awake, smiling when you whined softly. “shhh, shhh. just change into something more comfortable and we’ll go back to sleep.” you groggily sat up, one side of your hair already sticking up from where you laid against him.
“can i?” he motioned to your shirt and you nodded, lifting up your arms as he took it off. he tried to not stare at your chest for too long, eyes flickering between your black bra and face. he licked his lips as his shirt fell on you, his hands steadily undoing your jeans. he carefully pulled them off of you and placed your clothes in his desk chair.
he pulled back the covers for you and made sure you were comfortable before pulling them back up and going to his side and laying down. you waited until he held his arms out for you, inching closer to him. you settled against his side, cocooned in his embrace.
ni-ki pressed his lips to the side of your head letting them ghost over your hairline. he felt your hand curl into his shirt. weakly holding onto him. “goodnight, princess.” he mumbled letting his eyes close.
“night, ki.”
⋆˙⟡
the week had passed in a blur of studying and late night homework sessions. your midterms were over, your english class being the last one to take. you had studied for two weeks, even making eunchae become your personal tutor at times when you were feeling stressed.
the lecture hall was quiet, only a few people were still taking their tests while everyone else waited for their grade to be passed back. your foot anxiously tapped against the ground, eyes flicking between the professor and clock mounted on the wall behind him.
“don’t worry, i’m sure you passed.” you looked to your left at jake. his hair was tousled from his hands, glasses perched on his face, and eyes raking you over. you sighed quietly, moving your chair closer so he could hear you better.
“i better have. i think i can recite all the material in my sleep from how much i studied.” he let out a quiet chuckle, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world.
“you coming to sunghoon’s party tonight?” you nodded your head.
“mhm. i don’t know if riki’s going though.” you frowned and slumped a little in your seat. jake smirked and leaned closer, his breath fanning against the side of your neck.
“i wasn’t asking about ni-ki.” your breath hitched, eyes slowly meeting his. it was hard to miss the way his gaze trailed over you, like he was trying to memorize the way you looked right now.
“oh.” you said quietly, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. jake’s smirk turned into a grin, his hand coming up to gently play with the ends of your hair.
“no wonder ni-ki likes to keep you to himself.” your brain short circuited, mouth opening to speak before your professor started speaking. jake moved his hand away and gave you a wink, going back to his spot.
you quietly moved back to yours, heart racing and palms beginning to sweat. did jake sim just flirt with you? you pushed the thought to the back of your mind, waiting for your professor to give you your test.
“good job miss y/l/n.” professor choi said softly, setting down your test in front of you before moving on. you glanced at the ninety-six grade in the corner, nearly screaming for joy.
“told you.” you looked at jake with a small smile and began to pack up your things.
“what’d you get?”
“ninety-eight.” jake and you walked out of the lecture hall together, other students walking and talking around you.
“maybe we’ll have to study together next time.” you said giving him a shy glance.
“i’d like that, pretty.” you couldn’t stop the small nervous giggle that left you, hands gripping your test for dear life as you neared the entrance of the english building.
ni-ki stood by the doors, eyes narrowed at how close jake was to you. jealousy reared its head into ni-ki’s heart, his fists balling up before he relaxed. he walked over to you two, face devoid of any emotion.
your eyes lit up when you saw him, waving the paper like a trophy. “i passed, i passed, i passed!” you stood in front of him and held the test out to him watching his brows jump in satisfaction.
“mmm. told you that you’d pass.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a hug, eyes glaring daggers at jake. meanwhile the older simply shrugged his shoulders with that mischievous smirk.
“hey man, y/n said you’re not going to hoon’s party? it’s gonna be a good one.” ni-ki kept you to his side, hand trailing down your side to firmly rest over your hip. jake’s eyes followed the motion, the corners of his lips curling slightly.
“i don’t know.” ni-ki’s voice was clipped, his demeanor changing the longer jake was around you and him. jake sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
“your loss.” jake looked at you and winked, giving you that charming smile ni-ki knew too well. “see you tonight, pretty.” jake gave one last look to ni-ki before leaving.
you ignored the way your cheeks grew warmer, clearing your throat softly and glancing at your test. you pulled away from ni-ki to put your test up in your bag. he stood behind you almost protectively, eyes lazily roaming over your body.
“i thought you said you weren’t going to talk to him.” you froze at his voice, blinking a couple times before turning to face him.
“it wasn’t like that, riki. we were talking about the test and the party. that’s it.” ni-ki wanted to hit himself for being so possessive. you weren’t his. he couldn’t keep you from talking to people, despite how much he wants to.
he let out a long sigh and stepped closer, hands carefully resting on your shoulders. “i’m sorry.” his voice was soft, brows drawn together in regret. “i’m sorry.” you felt your shoulders drop and placed your hands atop of his.
“it’s okay.” your thumb rubbed the back of his hand. ni-ki wrapped his arm around your waist and led you out of the english building.
“come on. i think you deserve something for passing.”
⋆˙⟡
the restaurant ni-ki had taken you to was a little busy, servers constantly delivering food to tables or taking orders. you sat across from him in a small booth and looked over the menu. “ki, this place is kind of expensive. maybe we should’ve gone to-“
“hey, i told you not to worry. get whatever you want.”
you sighed and looked up at him raising a brow. “it’s like twenty five dollars for the meal i want.” ni-ki rolled his eyes and leaned back against the booth.
“do you always have to fight me every time i do something nice for you?” you felt a little bad at his reaction, only trying to be mindful of his money. you watched his hand reach for yours over the table, thumb rubbing your knuckles.
you looked back down at the menu and settled on the meal you wanted. “you’re sure?” you asked softly one more time. he nodded his head and gently squeezed your hand.
he watched you look over the menu once more, face much more relaxed than when you had first saw him earlier. after deciding what you wanted you closed the menu and gave ni-ki your full attention.
“how did your midterms go?” you asked him as you traced the outline of his rings. he hummed lowly, moving his hand closer to you.
“good. i passed everything i needed to.” you playfully rolled your eyes
“so in other words you didn’t study and still managed to pass?” he flashed you a boyish grin and shrugged his shoulders.
“i can’t help that i’m so good, baby.” you laughed at his ridiculous antics, covering your mouth with your other hand as you did so. “you know it’s true.”
“yeah, okay.” you scoffed, hands lacing with his again. “are you coming to sunghoon’s party?” you focused on your hands, how they flexed and strained at the smallest movements. his long fingers easily dwarfed yours, the pads of his fingers a little calloused.
“you want me to go?” he raised a brow and chewed on his bottom lip meeting your eyes. you weren’t an idiot, obviously ni-ki was handsome. annoyingly and truthfully so. but it didn’t help how his eyes had softened, brown irises resembling that of boba. strands of his black bangs falling into his face a bit.
you took in a unsteady breath, hand unconsciously gripping his tighter. “mhm!” you pursed your lips, not trusting yourself to speak. but ni-ki couldn’t help but find your behavior a little odd.
“i need words, baby.” your brain short circuited, blinking slowly. you could feel heat creeping up your neck, dusting your cheeks pink.
“yes, ki.” you mumbled quietly attempting to avoid his gaze. he let out an unsatisfied purr, letting the issue go for now. the waitress came back to take your order, eyes lingering on ni-ki each time he spoke.
you frowned at her. couldn’t she clearly see that you were with him? wait, not like that though. but your point still stood. how could she stand there, bat her eyes and—
“angel?” you snapped out of your daze and quickly looked at your best friend.
“huh?!”
the corner of his lip turned up slightly, his hand lazily gesturing to the menu. “i asked what you were planning on ordering?” you looked between the girl and ni-ki suddenly feeling flustered. you blanked, stumbling over your words.
“um, just a salad please.” you told the waitress quietly, slumping back in your seat as she stole another glance at him. ni-ki’s brows drew together, tsking and shaking his head.
“uh don’t listen to her,” he grabbed the menu again and flipped it to the entree section. “can i just get the pork with sautéed vegetables. and no sesame oil for that one.”
you clasped your hands together in your lap still looking between the two of them. “oh and a side of rice as well, please.” ni-ki asked handing the waitress your menus.
“of course. i’ll have those right out for you two!” her voice was sugary sweet. pink, glossy lips curling into a coy smile as her eyes shamelessly looked ni-ki up and down. you scoffed quietly to yourself, glaring at her retreating figure.
“if you stare any longer, you’ll disintegrate her.” your attention turned to ni-ki, the smug smile on his face only irritating you further.
“she was flirting with you. you don’t think that’s…”
“cute? that you’re jealous?” your cheeks warmed up and you scoffed.
“i’m not jealous!” you blurted defensively. “i just…wonder what happened to professionalism. y’know, time and place…” your lips downturned into a pout and ni-ki had to stop himself from cooing at you.
“keep telling yourself that.” he got up from the booth and took two steps closer to you before bending down to your level. “don’t upset yourself too much. i’m gonna use the bathroom.”
you grumbled incoherently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead before disappearing. you took the time to try and reason your feelings. you just weren’t used to seeing him get hit on. much less when you were around.
yes! yes, that has to be it! it makes sense, right? you let out a sigh and glanced up at the ceiling, the reflection of the glass ceiling staring right back. “this blows.”
⋆˙⟡
you were officially full. your stomach was bloated from how much ni-ki kept feeding you. claiming that the studying had made you ‘too skinny’ and you needed more energy. you let out a small whine, fingers loosely wrapped around his wrist.
“ki, i’m full.” he had another piece of pork between his chopsticks, brows raised up.
“one more bite and that’s it.” he coaxed taking a small bite from the edge. your eyes rolled as you moved closer, taking a small bite. he let out a low sound, finishing the rest for you.
you had eaten about five thick slices of pork, nearly all your vegetables, and a good amount of rice while ni-ki ordered enough to feed a small country and was still eating.
he took a sip of his water, hand outstretched for you to take a sip as well. “how is everything?” the waitress appeared in front of you two, eyeing you with distaste as ni-ki barely looked at her.
“good, baby?” you bristled at the pet name, a small smile making its way onto your face. you nodded your head and glanced at the waitress.
“perfect.” the waitress forced a smile onto her lips and began to clear away the empty dishes. you felt ni-ki’s legs cage in one of yours underneath the table. a warm feeling grew in your chest, happily accepting the piece of cabbage he held out to you.
“you seem a little too happy.” he commented watching how you accepted the food he was giving you despite your complaints a few minutes ago. “you like pissing off the people who give us food?” he asked teasingly.
you giggled and shook your head, plucking a thin beef slice off his plate. “don’t worry your pretty head. ki.” he rolled his eyes at you and continued to eat, occasionally feeding you still.
he ate until he got too full, asking for the check almost immediately. “sooo,” you dragged out, nudging his shoe with yours. he mirrored you, slumped back in the booth.
“hoon’s party?” he groaned and placed his card on the table, his black card making a brief appearance before the waitress took it. “please?! for me?” you asked him, giving him your best pleading look.
ni-ki rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “why? it’s gonna be the same shit like it always is.” ni-ki still didn’t like the idea of you going to sunghoon’s party, with or without him. he also didn’t trust a certain aussie around you. “or did you want to see someone again?” ni-ki couldn’t stop the words before they came out.
you stared at him for a couple of seconds, the warmth in your chest diminishing quickly. his words felt like a jab, something ugly and insecure lingering behind them.
“whatever.” you mumbled. you leaned back in the booth, eyes looking at anything that wasn’t him. ni-ki could see how upset you were. his tongue pushed at the inside of his cheek, eyes narrowing in thought.
you wanted him there. not eunchae, not jake, but him? for someone so in love with you, he felt pretty fucking stupid for not saying yes the first time. you wanted him there with you.
he waited until you two had finished with the bill and left. he led you out of the restaurant, a hand placed on the small of your back. ni-ki let out a quiet sigh, arm moving to wind around your waist now.
he felt you shift slightly, arms crossing over your chest as you avoided his eyes. but it wasn’t an attitude he was unfamiliar with. once you two got to his car he opened the door for you and watched you get in, standing there for a second with his hand still on the car door.
you refused to look at him still, blankly staring at the dashboard. “are you gonna close it?” your voice was clipped and impossible to miss the attitude behind it.
“you gonna keep ignoring me?” your head turned away from him slightly. guess that answers his question. he closed the door and walked around to the drivers seat. the car came to life with a low hum, the a.c a little warm before it cooled down.
ni-ki wordlessly connected his phone before putting on the playlist he made for you. your jaw ticked, eyes rolling as you turned your whole body to the car door.
maybe that should have been enough for ni-ki to snap. push you to talk about why you’re so annoyed with him or how much attitude you’ve given him after he just paid for your meal. but instead his lips quirked up into a faint crooked smile. it wasn’t his fault that everything you did made him melt.
so, he put the car in drive and started to drive back to the university. he hummed along to a couple songs, fingers drumming against the wheel rhythmically. he glanced at you every stop light trying to gauge how pissed you still were.
you were still turned towards the door, but you actually started to look out the front windshield now. he’d take any small victory. ni-ki smoothly came to a stop outside of your dorm building, a couple of students coming in or going.
you unbuckled your seatbelt and grabbed your bag. “thanks for dinner.” you mumbled opening the door. ni-ki let out a sigh and closed his eyes as you slammed his door. he watched you walk up the steps to your building and waited until you were safely inside.
he sat there for a couple more minutes on his phone, fingers quickly tapping against his screen.
riki: yo u need anything for the party
sunghoon: just bring what u normally bring
riki:👍
ni-ki clicked on eunchae’s contact, quickly texting her before putting his phone away and beginning to drive back to his apartment.
riki: lmk when u and y/n are ready for the party
⋆˙⟡
“i mean who does he think he is?! he gets mad when i talk to any guy who isn’t him, but he acts like going out for one night is some kind of…” you trailed off trying to find the right thing to say. eunchae raised her brows from behind you, carefully curling your hair.
“date?” you laughed immediately, the sound coming out in disbelief.
“no! he just makes it a big deal for no reason.” you sighed and slumped forward, forehead smacking against your desk. eunchae gasped and followed you with the hot curling wand, cursing your name.
“guys are so stupid! why can’t he just be honest about what he’s feeling for once!” you yelled frustratedly. you felt her fingers comb through the first section she curled.
“well why aren’t you being honest either?” you sat up at your best friends words and turned to her with a frown.
“what do you mean?” eunchae sighed and set the curling wand down on the desk.
“come on, don’t do that. everyone can see how much you two like each other.” your eyes widened and you stumbled over your words.
“i- we- okay, who is everyone?” your eyes narrowed and eunchae almost punched you for the question.
“who cares, y/nnie! it’s obvious riki likes you!” you shook your head and turned around, brows furrowing together.
“no he doesn’t, chae. he’s my best friend, our best friend. there’s nothing he does for me that he wouldn’t do for you. quit being ridiculous.”
eunchae let out a scoff, hands resting over her hips. “riki didn’t take me out to a nice restaurant cause i passed my midterms. he doesn’t know my schedule and wait outside my class. he doesn’t bring me my favorite tea every time im sick.”
you stayed quiet, not willing to face the feelings you had been keeping locked away since you first met him. “it’s not like that, eunchae.” your voice was soft, hands curling in on themselves in your lap. “he doesn’t see me that way.”
there was a moment of silence before you felt her arms around your shoulders and her cheek pressed to yours. “then what way does he see you?” you had no answer for her question, tears welling in your eyes instead.
she tightened her grip and your hand came up to hers. “i’m just scared. i don’t want to lose him.” eunchae hummed in understanding and just held you close.
“you’ll only lose him if you keep pretending.”
⋆˙⟡
after a much needed shot and girl talk, you and eunchae were ready for the party. you laughed as she posed against your wall in a ridiculous manner. “does it look good?!” she asked eagerly even though she could picture how funny she looked.
“oh yeah, it’s perfect.” you snickered continuing to take her picture. she giggled and went back to you, looking over the photos you took. you pulled down the hem of your mini dress, the fabric hugging your curves and ending just at the tops of your mid thigh.
you were busy looking yourself over when three knocks came from the door. your brows furrowed in confusion “did you invite dani and yunah?” eunchae puckered her lips in thought and shook her head.
you let out a hum and walked to the door. “sorry, eunchae— what are you doing here?” you stopped your original sentence and looked up at ni-ki.
to say he looked good was an understatement. his bangs were down, hair curling at the back of his nape. he wore a pair of baggy jeans, his belt and chain clinking when he shifted slightly. he wore his favorite chrome hearts hoodie, shoulders still broad underneath the fabric.
“i’m taking you and eunchae to the party.” he raised a brow as if you were already supposed to know that. you leaned against your door, looking him up and down.
“i thought you weren’t going?”
“changed my mind.” you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “you look…beautiful.” you straightened up at his compliment. heat spreading up your neck.
“flattery gets you nowhere. you mumbled stepping aside to let him in.
“just inside your dorm it seems.” you slapped his shoulder and scowled at eunchae. “and you look beautiful as well, chae.” she beamed at him, giving him a dramatic spin.
“seems someone appreciates my beauty.” she playfully stuck her tongue out at you.
“like i didn’t call you pretty twenty times in a row…” you sat down on your bed to put your heels on.
“i didn’t feel the love behind it like riki’s.” you rolled your eyes and quietly gathered your things while the other two talked casually.
ni-ki’s eyes had been glue to you since he entered. he just couldn’t fathom how beautiful you looked, even when you were pissed at him. eunchae waved a hand in his face bringing him back to reality.
she looked between you two and nodded her head towards you. talk to her. ni-ki quickly shook his head, finger pointing at you before he mouthed ‘she’s still mad’
eunchae gave him an unimpressed look, hands going to her hips. she glanced at you before quickly shuffling ni-ki out the dorm. your door slammed shut and you jumped turning around to an empty room.
“they’re so weird…” you mumbled putting on an earring.
“what?” ni-ki sighed leaning against the wall.
“don’t ’what’ me. what are you doing?! why did you keep saying no to the party?”
“it’s just a party. besides you know how hoon and the guys are-“
“yeah, they treat us just like you do. especially sunghoon and jay!” eunchae sighed and lowered her voice before you heard them. “look, don’t worry about jake. it’s jake. ki, havent you ever noticed she always wants you around when we’re out?” he pursed his lips, ready to rebut until he really thought about it.
sure maybe you would ask another one of your friends to tag along, but it was true. you’d cling to ni-ki’s side all night, only apart when you were dragged away by your friends. even after you’d find your way back to him, already pressed up against him like you belonged there.
“mhm. at this rate i’ll be about fifty when you two finally get married.” eunchae teased. he tsked and ran a hand through his hair.
“what do i do?” eunchae’s eyes closed slowly, exasperation all over her face.
“talk.” she said simply. “just tell her. please. or i really will sick jake on her to make this end.” ni-ki’s face soured, ready to tell her off before the door swung open.
you blinked and looked between the two of them, both of them looking at you innocently. you stepped out and shut the door. “what were you two talking about?” you asked suspiciously.
“nothing!” they said at the same time. “just trying to help riki be less stupid.” you snorted and linked arms with eunchae.
“he needs a lot more than a talk in the hallway.” ni-ki followed you two, hand over his heart.
“you hurt my feelings.” he said monotonously. you three went to his car, ni-ki opening the doors for both of you. you slid into the passenger seat, buckling yourself up when you felt warm fingers brush against your thigh.
your eyes widened as ni-ki tugged the hem of your dress down a bit. he said nothing and shut the door. eunchae squealed, shaking your shoulder.
“what the fuck?”
⋆˙⟡
the party was in full swing when you three arrived. bodies everywhere, led lights bouncing off the walls, and smells you’d rather not know wafting into the air. you and eunchae held hands while ni-ki walked behind you two like a protective shadow. “i need a drink!” you yelled over the music, eunchae nodding in agreement.
you all went to the kitchen and split off. ni-ki went to the coolers for a beer, eunchae went for the shots while you browsed the seltzers they had. you pushed around the ice trying to find something fruity that wasn’t peach or watermelon.
“a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be getting yourself a drink.” jake stood behind you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him.
“jake! sorry, am i in your way?” you smiled shyly, stepping to the side to make room for him.
“course not, pretty. saw you over here and thought i’d say hi.” he nodded towards the cooler “what? nothing in there?”
“mmm, nothing fruity enough for me.” he chuckled and leaned closer, arm brushing against yours as he dug around in the melting ice.
“ah look, watermelon. fruity enough right?” he gave you his usual charming grin, hand outstretched with the seltzer. you didn’t have it in you to tell him you hated watermelon, so instead you took it from him.
“thanks.” you said softly, thumb tracing the rim of the drink. jake looked you up and down, licking his lips slowly.
“come on, we’ll have some fun.” he hooked his arm around your waist and led you back to the crowd of people, keeping you close to him.
eunchae stood beside ni-ki, the three shot glasses she just filled now feeling pointless. she looked up at ni-ki and placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “i’m sure she’s just being nice.”
his jaw clenched and he grabbed one of the shots, tipping his head back. the alcohol burned his throat as it went down, his brows pulling at the taste. he set the cup down and reached for what would have been yours.
“riki-yah, wait—“ eunchae watched with wide eyes as he swallowed the second shot, his jaw clenching and unclenching. his eyes didn’t leave the doorway you had left from and she was worried he was going to stay there all night.
he placed a hand on the back of eunchae’s head and pressed a kiss to the top before grabbing his beer and walking away without another word. her frown deepened, pitifully looking down at her own shot. “this officially sucks.”
and it was safe to say you weren’t having fun either. jake had been parading you around the party, talking to his friends while you just stood there awkwardly. his hands drifted further than you expected, fingers just barely grazing the top of your ass before he pulled back with a smug smirk.
it made you cringe a bit, to see him so touchy when he didn’t know one meaningful thing about you.
everything jake did, you found yourself comparing to ni-ki. they were completely opposites. where jake was easy going and friendly, ni-ki stayed to himself and only talked to those he knew. when jake made a joke, it was a poorly told one. not like the ones were ni-ki makes you snort on accident from how funny it was. and to top it all off, he had handed you a watermelon drink earlier.
you knew he didn’t know any better, but you also knew ni-ki would’ve found something else for you. something he knew you would’ve liked.
you were sitting beside jake on the cramped couch feeling more than uncomfortable. there were more people around than you recognized. the only ones you knew were sunoo, jay and yunjin. everyone else was unfamiliar.
you shifted again, thigh brushing against jake’s. he turned his head to you and leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “you alright?” you forced a small smile on your face and nodded your head.
his eyes dropped to the seltzer in your hand, the one you’ve barely drank. “we can go somewhere else if you want. just us.” your breath hitched, the implications of his words not lost on you. his hand that was around your waist dropped down to your thigh, right where the hemline of your dress sat. his thumb rubbed small circles against your skin.
“i think i need some air.” you blurted out. your legs were wobbly as you stood up, hot tears brewing. you pushed past people to go outside, ignoring the yells of partygoers that you accidentally pushed or stepped on.
the glass door closed behind you, sealing off the blaring music. your chest heaved, palms sweaty, and your head spinning. “oh god…” you whispered walking over to the railing of the patio. your hands grasped the edge, wood pinching your palms enough to ground you.
you took deep breaths trying to calm yourself down. you looked around the backyard. it was kept clean, surprisingly. a small flower bed near the pool they had, a stone pathway leading to the pool and a gazebo placed near the back.
your heart skipped a beat and you found yourself following the path. the moonlight was bright, bathing you in silver lighting. you were supposed to be enjoying the party, but all you could think about was ni-ki.
jake was hot. definitely hot enough to sleep with, so what was holding you back? your meltdown came to a brief pause, the smell of weed and a light giggle catching your attention.
you froze, unsure if you were hearing things. but another giggle came confirming someone else was here. you hesitantly took another step, your heels clicking quietly.
“this is some good shit, ki. really good.” a feminine voice purred. your heart lurched in your throat.
it couldn’t be.
“yeah? don’t smoke all of it now.” another giggle came from the girl. you knew that voice. it was the one that plagued your mind every second of the day.
you were stuck between going and staying. it didn’t matter who he talked to or smoked with. you two were just friends. that’s it.
so you swallowed your feelings and walked into the gazebo, regretting your decision immediately. the girl was wearing a short skirt, the lace of her underwear peeking every time she shifted her hips towards ni-ki, her boobs nearly spilled from her top, hair done perfectly and lips glossed in a deep red. her hand was on his thigh, one of her legs draping over his knee.
her lips were pressed to the side of his neck, the faint marks leading down to the collar of his shirt letting you know this had been happening. ni-ki sat there with his free hand resting on her knee drawing small circles with his thumb. his head was tilted back, giving the girl more room.
you stumbled back, heel clicking against the wood flooring. ni-ki’s eyes opened lazily, expecting it be anyone but you. the joint dropped from his fingers, eyes widening as he pushed the girls legs off of him.
“hey, what the fuck?” ni-ki ignored her and stood up feeling dead sober now that he was looking at you.
you didn’t realize you had started to cry, the tear falling onto your collarbone letting you know it was time to go. you turned on your heel, stumbling down the stairs as you tried to walk as quick as possible.
“y/n! shit-“ ni-ki quickly chased after you, his heart hammering so hard in his chest he thought it might burst. “y/n, y/n, just wait!” his fingers brushed against your wrist before you jerked away from him.
“don’t touch me.” ni-ki panicked and rushed to stand in front of you, hands hovering in the air.
“baby, please. it wasn’t what it looked like—“
“don’t call me that! and it doesn’t fucking matter. we’re not together.” ni-ki’s heart was aching, the tears and look on your face making him spiral. he shook his head and gently cupped your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
“no, no, no. i’ll fix this, baby. please—“ you pushed at his chest, not wanting to hear anything he had to say.
“fuck you.” your voice was cold, tears still flowing down your face as you pushed past him. you felt disgusted by his touch. how long had he been with that girl? you had been comparing another guy to him all while he was trying to get his dick wet. romantic isn’t it?
he followed you inside, eyes never leaving your figure as he kept trying to talk to you. “i don’t even know her name! she came up to me!” you shook your head, looking around for eunchae.
you spotted her around your usual group of friends, yunah being the one to notice you first. she lit up and waved before she noticed the look on your face and the distressed ni-ki behind you.
“y/n, please listen to me—“ you turned around, a loud smack making the people around you turn to look. ni-ki’s jaw clenched but he didn’t dare try and fight back. he stared down at you, tears pricking his own eyes.
“fuck you, nishimura! you’re the biggest piece of shit i’ve ever met.”
“i know. but baby, please just let me explain.” you would have stood there and cussed him out until the sun came up, but eunchae was there before you could process his words.
“fuck you.” your words held a kick to them, the way you looked so heartbroken speaking to him. the pretty makeup you did now ruined by the boy who held your heart. all because you both were too scared to be honest with each other.
you turned towards eunchae, more tears streaming down your face. she wrapped her arms around you trying to hide your face from everyone. she shot ni-ki a disappointed glance before gently guiding you out the door.
ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, his cheek still stinging from where you slapped him. “fuck.” a hand patted his back, sunghoon looking at his friend with concern.
“you good?” ni-ki shook his head, eyes welling up again. sunghoon understood immediately and moved his hand up to ni-ki’s shoulder, trying to offer him some comfort.
“she’ll come back, man.” sunghoon said confidently, only catching the last part of the fight. ni-ki sighed shakily, eyes red from holding back his tears.
“i don’t think so. i fucked up. really bad.”
⋆˙⟡
one day passed. then two. then three. then one week passed. two. three. a month. a month without ni-ki. a month without hearing his stupid jokes or laugh. a month without your other half. you were heartbroken of course. you spent most of your nights alone in your dorm crying yourself to sleep. no matter how much eunchae and your friends tried to coax you outside.
it was still hard for you to wrap your head around. ni-ki being with that girl. you thought that maybe a small, naive part of you was right about him feeling the same. but you should’ve known better.
you laid in bed once again, back towards eunchae as you blankly stared at your wall. she was doing her homework, tv playing a random show for white noise. she had grown worried for you. never in the last three years had she ever seen you this down. and normally if you were feeling sad and she couldn’t cheer you up, she’d call ni-ki.
but she knew he was the last thing you wanted right now. for the time being she hoped. she split her time between you and ni-ki, trying to help both of you process the situation but it was like talking to a brick wall when it came to you two.
all ni-ki could ever talk about was how badly he messed up and that you’d probably never want to speak to him again. and you can forget ni-ki trying to reach out first. he looked at eunchae like she grew three heads when she first suggested it.
“are you crazy? what so she can spit in my face and tell me more about how much she hates me? i’ll take my lost dignity and slap over that.”
she sighed recalling the memory, pencil tapping against her notebook. you two were hopeless.
“y/n?” silence.
“y/nnie?” eunchae softened her voice, slowly pushing away her homework and crossing the small space to your bed. you felt the bed dip beside you and you hesitated for a second before slowly scooting over for her.
you two stayed like that for a few minutes until you turned to face her. your eyes met and you tried your hardest to not cry, biting your bottom lip so hard you drew blood.
“i know.” was all eunchae said before you started sobbing into your pillow. she shushed you and gently smoothed down your hair.
“i don’t get it! why?” that’s all you asked. why, why, why? why would he break your heart after treating you so sweet these last few years.
you cried it all out, eunchae wiping your tears and cuddling closer to you. you sniffled softly, cheek pressed against her shoulder. “i’m sorry, chae.” you apologized, voice cracking at the end.
“why?”
“everything’s ruined because of me.” your eyes closed and your brows drew together like you were in pain. “maybe if i had just told him earlier— it wouldn’t be like this and we’d all be together.”
“it’s not your fault, y/nnie. i mean, a little bit but it’s riki’s too.” you let out a weak chuckle and allowed yourself to try and calm down.
“is he okay?” you asked after a long moment of silence. eunchae let out a sigh and ran her fingers through your hair.
“no.” she answered honestly. “he looks like shit though, so i guess thats some karma.” she joked trying to make you laugh.
your fingers traced shapes into the sheets between you two. “has he…been with anyone else?” eunchae shook her head, her patience never thinning.
“no. all he does is cry about you and smoke. then cry about you some more.” a fleeting smile graced your face, lips weakly pulled up before they went back to the permanent frown that seemed to belong on your face nowadays.
“i don’t know what to do.” you whispered, letting down the walls you had built up. “what if he hates me for slapping him? i don’t even know why i did it. i was just so hurt and blindsided by everything.”
an irritated sigh left you, your knuckles rubbing your eyes. “i mean we weren’t together, so what right do i have to be upset about anything?”
“y/n.” eunchae’s voice was serious, her lips pursed in a thin line. “i love you. you know that, right?” there was a brief second before you nodded your head. “and yunah loves you. dani, hoon, jay, we all do. but riki…”
she slowly sat up, trying to find the best way to make you see the truth you’ve been ignoring. “he loves you differently than us.” you looked at her, chewing on your bottom lip.
“i’ve never told you this, but last year for your 21st…” you sat up now to, brows drawing together as your heart rate sped up.
“what?” eunchae’s voice got up and walked towards her desk, opening her jewelry box and digging around. “eunchae, what is it?” she walked back to you and placed a small blue velvet box in front of you.
“riki wanted to give it to you, but he was scared. scared that you wouldn’t feel the same and blah, blah, blah.” you grabbed the box slowly, the weight of it light. “but he picked it out for you. it was supposed to go with your gift that night but you know.”
her voice softened as she joined you on the bed again. “he wanted to save it for when he got the courage to ask you out.” your eyes widened and your head turned so fast eunchae was worried you might’ve gotten whiplash.
“a-ask me out?” you stumbled over your words, the box feeling heavier the more she spoke.
“riki loves you, y/n. you’re all he ever talks about, every test you pass, every hobby you take up, all the small things you do. i don’t know how you didn’t see it. when he looks at you it’s like the rest of us don’t even exist to him.”
“all he sees is you.”
the reality you had carefully spent crafting to protect your own heart came shattering down, splintering any barriers you had up. how could you have been so blind? all those times he took every chance to brag about what you’ve accomplished. how he always bought you your favorite chocolates when you’ve had a bad day. how he always kept a pair of your clothes at his place for when you stay the night. everything he did for you.
you looked down at the box in your hands, heart feeling heavier than before. “i’m an idiot, aren’t i?” eunchae scoffed, hugging you tightly.
“of course not. and even if you are, you’re my idiot best friend.” you let out a sad laugh, hugging her back just as tightly.
“i’m sorry.”
“quit apologizing.”
“i can’t.” you two pulled away and she gave you a sympathetic smile.
“open it.” you glanced at the box, wiping your palms on the sheets before picking it up. you glanced at her like a snake would pop out and attack you from the box. but one more nod of encouragement had you opening the small box.
inside sat a ring with your birthstone in the middle on a silver band, six small tanzanite gems on either side. “oh!” you felt the bed shift as eunchae got up, rummaging for something else but your eyes were glued to the ring.
your fingertip traced over the band, tears welling up again. he had gotten you a ring and was waiting to ask you out to give it. “he wanted this to go with it too.” eunchae smiled sheepishly, a folded piece of paper held out to you.
you took it with trembling hands, eyes scanning the words on the page.
y/n, happy birthday! i can’t believe my beautiful girl is finally 21. there’s not a second where i don’t feel proud of you and everything you’ve done. hopefully by the time you’re reading this, you’re officially my girlfriend :) and i can tell you how much i love you every day now. i hope you like the ring. it’s our birthstones together. so you can have a small piece of me when i’m not there. i love you baby, i hope we get to spend every birthday with each other forever. love, riki
“oh my god…” it felt like someone had knocked the air from your lungs, his hand written confession sending your heart and brain into a million pieces.
there was no more excuses, no strange coincidences. nishimura riki was in love with you. and for some reason that felt more daunting than him never loving you at all.
“y/nnie?” eunchae combed through your hair and peered at you in concern. “what are you thinking about?”
⋆˙⟡
ni-ki exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes watching as it trailed away into the blue night. “dude, you’ve been staring at the last spot for ten minutes now.” jay mumbled, eyes focused on the video game he was playing.
ni-ki looked away from the window and to his friends. jay and sunghoon were on his bed, controllers in their hands while sunoo sat on the floor against his bed watching the two of them with a judgemental look.
“i’m thinking.” ni-ki responded gruffly from his spot in the windowsill. he leaned back against the frame and took another drag, longer this time.
“about y/n?” sunoo asked. the game paused as silence filled the room and that was all they needed.
“riki, maybe you should try talking to her?” sunghoon suggested softly to not upset him. “i mean, what if she feels the same way you do?” ni-ki scoffed and flicked off the ash from the tip of his joint.
“if you were her, would you wanna see me face?” the other three shared a glance that spoke words. “exactly.” he shook his head and took another drag. “i fucked up the best thing i had.” his eyes trailed outside the window. “and i don’t think i could gain her trust back no matter how hard i tried.”
they all sat there for a long, quiet moment. “have any of you seen her?” ni-ki asked.
“heartbroken.” jay finished bluntly, earning a smack on his calf from sunoo. “what?! he asked!” sunghoon shook his head at the two of them and looked at ni-ki.
“have you asked eunchae?” ni-ki nodded his head, hand resting over his heart instinctively.
“says she doesn’t go out anymore. that she just…cries.” a wave of nausea hits him from just imagining you in a way. he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.
the three of them all looked at him sympathetically, never seeing ni-ki so distraught before. “i just want her back.” ni-ki cried.
at first they couldn’t tell if he was actually crying but once they saw his shoulders move they closed in on him. sunghoon stubbed out the joint and helped ni-ki up, hugging him tightly.
they younger sobbed into his friends shoulder. raw, painful cries that made tears well up in sunoo’s eyes. they all comforted him, rubbing his back and trying to offer him sympathetic words until his sobs quieted.
“hey, hey,” sunghoon picked his head up to make ni-ki look at him. “it’s not over, riki. think about it. has y/n ever dated anyone in the last three years?” he waited until ni-ki shook his head. “i’ve never seen her look more happy when she’s with you.” jay nodded his head in agreement, patting ni-ki’s shoulder.
“i mean she even ditched jake that night of the party.” jay said a chuckle slipped past his lips as he recalled the story jake told him. “said she just up and left.”
ni-ki’s brows furrowed as he looked at jay. “what?”
jay pulled a face waving a dismissive hand. “ah, you know my memory’s pretty bad.” he chuckled awkwardly. “doesn’t ma-“
“no. she left jake?”
jay slowly nodded his head trying to gauge if that was a good or bad thing. “did they kiss or anything?” ni-ki pressed.
“not that i know of.”
“did jake try to like, force her to do-“
“oh god no! jake’s an ass but he’s not like that. i think he hooked up with rei that night anyway.”
ni-ki felt a small spark in his heart. you didn’t do anything with jake. you left him. you. you. you. his head dropped forward with a groan, ni-ki’s hands coming up to his hair. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“woah, where are you going?” sunoo asked as ni-ki frantically grabbed a jacket. they all followed him to the front door, his movements erratic like he was in two different places at once. “nishimura riki, where are you going?” sunoo repeated more firmly.
his head snapped up as he wiped his tears away. “to go get my girlfriend?” sunghoon and jay shared a look, eyes wide with surprise at his response.
“…like…now?” sunghoon asked.
“obviously now, you moron!” jay clapped his hands and reached for his car keys
“oh thank god! i’ve been waiting for this since sophomore year and it’s finally happening!”
“well you can’t just show up empty handed!” sunghoon sounded stressed, slipping on his shoes.
“he’s right you need flowers.” sunoo agreed as they all shuffled out into the hallway. ni-ki locked his front door, nodding in thought.
“okay, flowers. um, those chocolates she likes…”
“a card! girls love cards!” thwack “sunno-ah!” jay rubbed the back of his head following behind the group as they walked to the elevator.
“he’s trying to win her back, not give her a gift!”
ni-ki’s lips pulled into a frown. “don’t talk about her like some kind of prize.”
they all piled in and ni-ki wiped his palms against his sweats. “i don’t even know what i’m gonna say.” he mumbled, brows furrowing.
“just tell her what you feel, riki. it’s been long enough.” sunghoon said softly. always remaining the level headed one.
ni-ki nodded his head and closed his eyes as they got closer to the lobby.
please don’t hate me forever.
⋆˙⟡
“are you sure?” eunchae asks from her bed, hands clasped in her lap as she watched you brush your hair. “i wasn’t trying to push you to talk to him.” you set down your brush and turned around to face her.
“you didn’t.” you inhaled deeply and glanced at the ring that fit perfectly on your ring finger. “but i can’t stay here any longer like i’m not missing a piece of my heart.” eunchae’s eyes pricked with tears
“then i’m coming with you!” you laughed and shook your head.
“chae, you don’t have-“
“no. you’re my best friend. and if he makes you cry, well i have to kick his ass.” you two stared at each other before giggling quietly. you closed the space between you two and hugged tightly.
“thank you.” she hummed, her throat feeling constricted as she held you back. you two broke apart after a moment and she gently shook your shoulders.
“let’s go find that stupid idiot.”
⋆˙⟡
the universe worked in funny ways. sometimes it has you meet people you’ve never met become your closest friends. or you’ll be running late and miss the train you were supposed to catch and five minutes in got stuck due to a malfunction. and sometimes it has you on opposite sides of the town from the people you love.
“baby please.” ni-ki pleaded from outside your dorm, a bouquet of flowers and chocolates in hand. “i just want to talk. i promise.”
sunoo, jay, and sunghoon watched from down the hall, their shoulders slowly dropping the longer ni-ki waited for you to come to the door.
ni-ki sighed and leaned his forehead against your door. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry for betraying you like that. for being so blind that…that you loved me as much as i love you.” he scoffed lightly and rested his forehead against the door, ready to pour his heart out from behind if that’s what it took for you to open up.
“i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. you’re the only girl i want, the only—“
the dorm next to you opened their door and a girl scowled at ni-ki, hair disheveled, pajama set wrinkled and eye mask pushed up into her hairline. “do you fucking mind?” she snapped. “some of us are trying to sleep!”
ni-ki blinked and pointed towards your door. “m-my girlfriend—“
“left. like twenty minutes ago. so you should too.” the door slammed and ni-ki looked over at the other three.
“shit!”
“shit!” you groaned after no one answered the door for what felt like the umpteenth time. “you think he’s out?” you asked eunchae, eyes wide with disappointment.
“what! no, don’t say that! riki wouldn’t….” she mumbled shaking her head. “keep trying. maybes he’s asleep or something?” you sighed and kept knocking on his door.
“ki? riki, please.”
eunchae pulled out her phone and clicked on sunoo’s contact quickly typing a message.
eunchae: sos!! where’s riki?
you sighed and turned to face her “he’s not here.” you paused and tried to think of all the places he could have been.
riki walked out of the dorm building first, heart aching in his chest. “it’s over. she’s probably out with someone who can treat her right.” jay wrapped an arm around ni-ki’s shoulder.
“don’t say that. i’m sure she’s just…getting a snack or something.” sunoo felt his phone buzz, reaching into his pocket.
“why did eunchae just text me asking where you are?” ni-ki, sunghoon, and jay all looked towards sunoo. he flipped his phone around, rolling his eyes at how they all leaned in to see.
“wait, she’s typing.” sunghoon pointed at the screen. sunoo pursed his lips and turned the phone back to him. his phone buzzed again, eyes quickly skimming over her text.
“is this a bad time to say she’s at your apartment?” sunoo asked sheepishly, lips curling upwards.
ni-ki’s eyes widened like he’d struck gold, his heart skipping a beat. “huh? ov- she’s over there?!” sunoo nodded his head and showed ni-ki the text.
“why the hell is he at the dorms?” you asked eunchae confused. she paused mid type to give you a look, nodding your head in understanding.
“right. wait, ask where they are right now?”
the boys all rushed into jays car, sunoo yelling at him to hurry up. “i’m going as fast as i can!” he yelled back quickly putting on his seatbelt. ni-ki’s leg bounced impatiently as they sped off across town.
you and eunchae walked out of ni-ki’s apartment building after no response from sunoo. “what the hell are we supposed to do?” you asked, arms crossing over your chest.
she shrugged her shoulders as you two walked to the bus stop. thunder rumbled lowly in the distance and a gust of wind blew your hair back. “oh perfect, just what we needed.” you mumbled sarcastically.
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” the boys were stuck in traffic at the worst possible time. people were honking their horns trying to turn or switch into a lane. pedestrians weaved in between cars to get to sidewalks. “what the hell is going on tonight?”
“isn’t that concert happening tonight?” sunoo questioned.
“oh yeah! i think jungwon and heeseung went tonight.” sunghoon mumbled in agreement watching two drunk guys argue on the sidewalk.
sunoo frowned and slumped back in his seat. “i wanted to go to that.” sunghoon glanced at him before focusing on the guys again.
“we’ll go next time. but for now, what are we supposed to do?” sunghoon looked at ni-ki. there wasn’t a time limit but it felt like there was. he couldn’t stand to be away from you any longer. he wanted to talk to you. to hug and hold you.
“ask where they are.” ni-ki said turning to sunoo. he nodded his head and quickly typed, all of them waiting for her response as they slowly inched forward.
“ah? they’re still at your place. she says they’re waiting at the bus stop…” they all turned their heads to the bus with their blinker light on, trying to merge into traffic.
ni-ki scoffed running a hand through his hair. another clap of thunder echoed from outside, a couple people outside screaming from it.
“she can’t walk all the way over here.” the eldest three shared a sympathetic look, expecting ni-ki to call it quits for the night despite how badly he wanted to see you.
“but i can run there.”
“ni-ki, don’t be ridiculous!”
“what? no way!”
“that’s not a good idea.”
their complaints fell on deaf ears, his hand already opening the door. “ni-ki, wait—“ he bent down to look at sunoo.
“tell eunchae to stay there. and hurry up so i can give her the flowers!” ni-ki shut the door and immediately booked it. “excuse me! excuse me! sorry!” he tried to not knock into anyone but with how packed the streets were it was hard not to.
he could hear faint hollering behind him, the eldest cheering him on as he ran. his motivation? you. and the brewing storm behind him.
⋆˙⟡
you shivered on the bench, arms hugging yourself to stay warm. “okay, we’re getting on the next one. i’m getting colder.” you whined, the wind getting stronger.
“they should be here any second!” your eyes narrowed.
“we’ve been here for nearly thirty five minutes. i don’t think so.” you sighed and stood up as the next bus came into sight. “look, riki will understand. besides its late.” the bus rolled to a slow stop, doors opening.
you let out a relieved sigh and took two steps before eunchae yanked your wrist and pulled you back down. “sorry, wrong stop!”
“wha- eunchae, stop it!” the bus driver waved you two off and closed the doors, continuing their route. lighting shot across the sky, the thunder following making both of you jump.
“hong eunchae, i will kill you if i get sick.” she only gave you an innocent smile as you begrudgingly sat back down.
the storm only got worse. it had began pouring, lightning and thunder coming in small bursts in the sky. you and eunchae sat closely beside each other, watching the rain pelt down in front of you.
“okay…” eunchae sighed “maybe we should’ve taken the bus.”
“you don’t say.”
meanwhile ni-ki was still running for his life. his legs had started to feel like lead about five blocks back but he was too close to slow down now. he probably looked insane running in the middle of a storm.
but he didn’t care. not when all of it was for you. so he paused underneath a stores entrance and caught his breath. ni-ki’s heart was racing but he couldn’t tell of it was from the adrenaline and running, or that he’ll finally see you again after a month of nothing.
thunder clapped lowly, the ground beneath him vibrating from the sound. he sighed and pushed his wet hair back before starting at a jog and slowly picking up his pace again.
you and eunchae sat there quietly waiting for the next bus. the rain made the night feel more solemn, all of your efforts in vain no matter how much you two tried to get to each other.
you looked down at your hand and twisted the ring around watching how the streetlight glinted against the gems. “y/nnie.” eunchae called your name softly as the next bus rounded the corner.
you felt a knot form in your stomach. were you really not going to see him tonight? was he not going to show up? you stood up beside her and looked both ways down the street to see if he would show up, but he didn’t.
the rain came down harder, lightning bathing the sky in a purple-white hue. ni-ki leaned against a streetlight to catch his breath, chest heaving rapidly. he let out a cough, groaning and placing his hands on his knees.
“i should’ve stayed in the car.” he stood back up and looked at the convenience store to his right. he scoffed lightly realizing it was the one about five minutes from his place.
wait. ni-ki’s head snapped forward, glancing between the store and sidewalk. “y/n…y/n!” he broke out into a sprint, shoes slapping against the puddles and effectively drenching his already wet clothes.
the bus drove slowly in the rain, one stop away from you and eunchae. “you think he at least tried to come here?” you asked quietly. eunchae looked at you and held your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“i do. but sometimes things like tonight just don’t work out.” she watched your face fall, eyes looking away from hers. “we’ll try again tomorrow.” you nodded your head and glanced at the ring on your finger.
tomorrow. you repeated in your head. you’d have tomorrow and that was enough to calm you down a bit. the bus slowly drove to you two, the rain still coming down but not as harsh anymore.
ni-ki’s lungs burned, his lips parted as he tried to inhale as much air as possible. he pushed through his pain determined to see you no matter what. he rounded the corner, his apartment building coming into view. he blinked rapidly and watched two figures shuffle towards the bus.
ni-ki’s heart leapt into his throat, his hands cupping around his mouth as he yelled your name over the loud rain. “y/n!”
you watched eunchae rush on the bus, trying to not get too wet from the rain. you were still underneath the roof of the bus stop getting ready to leave when you swore someone called your name.
your brows furrowed as you looked around, but no one was there. “you’re imagining things.” you mumbled pulling your hood up. you were just about to book it on the bus, eunchae patiently waiting for you at the top of the bus stairs.
“Y/N!” you looked to your right, a figure sluggishly walking towards you. your eyes squinted trying to make out who it was.
“y/n, come on.” eunchae called softly walking towards the last step as she motioned for you to come on the bus.
“who is that?” you asked. she sighed and peeked at what you were pointing at, jaw dropping as she quickly went back to your side.
“it’s riki!” your eyes widened in disbelief. the bus driver closed the doors and drove to the next stop, shaking his head at the two of you.
“no way…” you felt frozen in place, the distance between you two seeming to stretch forever.
ni-ki felt his legs burning, every step feeling like he was walking in something thick and couldn’t move. but he could see you now and nothing was going to stop him.
and maybe in hindsight he got a little too ambitious because the next step he took his legs gave out. “ah fuck,” ni-ki sighed feeling exhausted from his run.
“riki!” eunchae tried to grab your hand but you were already running towards him. the rain dampened your clothes and hair but you didn’t care. “riki!” you kneeled in front of him, gently cupping his cheeks. “oh my god, are you okay?!” your eyes were wide with concern, one hand moving to rest over his heart and feeling how fast it was beating.
and all ni-ki could do was stare at you like you had been his saving grace. “wha- mm!” his arms wrapped around you tightly as he found the strength to stand up again and pull you close to him.
ni-ki was thankful for the rain so you couldn’t tell what was his tears and what wasn’t. one hand cradled the back of your head, his other rubbing your waist tenderly.
you melted into his embrace, cheek pressing against his soaked shirt. you allowed yourself the sweet moment a couple more seconds before coming to your senses. “ki, come on!” you motioned for eunchae to run towards the apartment building, dragging a very tired ni-ki behind you.
the three of you made it inside, the concierge giving you three a questioning look from how soaked you all were. “sorry.” you apologized sheepishly as you three created a small puddle towards the elevator.
you held ni-ki’s hand in yours, shyly looking up at him as you got in the elevator. his lips quirked up a bit, pulling you closer to him.
⋆˙⟡
after taking a shower and everyone else going back to ni-ki’s apartment, the weight of everything seemed to settle. sunghoon and sunoo shared a small nod, standing up to announce their departure. “we’re gonna go ahead and leave. you two don’t kill each other.” he joked hugging you and ni-ki.
“i’m gonna go back to the dorm. are you coming?” eunchae asked standing up as well. you looked at ni-ki, his eyes wide and hopeful. you turned to eunchae and shook your head.
jay quietly said his goodbyes to ni-ki, whispering something in his ear. you hugged eunchae goodbye and watched all of them slowly leave his apartment until it was just you two.
you and ni-ki stood in his living room, just staring at each other. he had showered and changed, letting you do the same and offering you some clothes to keep warm in.
the rain had calmed, drops lightly tapping against the window. your flowers sat on the coffee table, chocolate wrappers scattered about.
his eyes flickered down to the ring on your finger, face changing completely. “eunchae gave it to you?” he stepped closer and grabbed your hand, thumb brushing over the band.
“yeah. she gave me the note too.” his thumb paused, eyes meeting yours again. you hesitated in what to say, unsure of how to start all of this.
“why…why didn’t you tell me?”
ni-ki stared at you for a long moment before one hand gently cupped your cheek. “i was scared. of losing you. losing our friendship.” he let out a shaky sigh and stepped closer, the faint scent of his soap lingering on his skin. “and i thought having you as my best friend was better than not having you at all.”
his jaw clenched, his emotions visible on his face. “and i’m such an idiot—“
“riki, don’t say that.”
“no, it’s true.” he led you to the couch, sitting down first before pulling you into his lap. you followed without struggle, arm winding around his neck to comb the strands of his hair with your fingers.
ni-ki let out a low purr, his head lolling towards you. “i’m an idiot for not seeing how much you loved me. and i was even dumber for thinking you’d never find out.” his lips brushed against your jawline, the gesture making your eyes flutter close.
“i’m so sorry, y/n.” he gently grabbed you chin and tilted your face to him. you opened your eyes again and he was looking at you with regret, guilt, sadness. he was wearing his heart on his sleeve just to let you know how much he meant it.
“i’m so sorry for hurting you so badly and that i didn’t do enough. i should have never gotten mad about you and jake. it wasn’t my place.” his hand trailed to your thigh, gently squeezing the skin like he was trying to ground himself.
“a-and that girl,” he scoffed, nose scrunching in disgust. “i don’t know what i was thinking that night. i swear. she means nothing to me. absolutely nothing. and i know i fucked up.” he looked away from you, tears welling in his eyes as he choked up on his next words.
“i won’t be mad if you don’t forgive me. but i can’t let you leave thinking i don’t love you. because i do. more than anyone else.” a tear slipped down his cheek, his brown eyes softening in a way that almost made you cry.
“you’re all i think about. every day, every night. i can’t imagine my life without you.” you hadn’t realized you were crying until he kissed one of your tears away.
“ki…”
“i know.” you dropped your forehead against his, hands coming to rest on his chest. “i’m so, so sorry, baby. i could never love another girl when i have someone so perfect as you.” he pecked your cheek softly, the tenderness behind his action making your heart ache.
“i’ll forever spend the rest of my life making it up to you. i’ll put in the work to gain your trust again, to hold your heart carefully. but only if you let me.”
you looked at him again seeing the raw emotion on his face. you could tell he was sincere in his words and actions, that he was willing to do anything to have you back. “i’m sorry too.” you whispered.
“for never seeing everything you do for me and how much you take care of me.” your eyes welled up and you looked away trying to keep your tears at bay. ni-ki rubbed your thigh slowly letting his tears fall.
“and i’m sorry for hurting you. i never wanted jake or any other guy. it was always you, ki.”
ni-ki’s eyes lit up as he pulled you closer. “you mean it?” he asked quietly. you nodded your head and cupped his cheek, gently wiping away his tears.
“i love you too, riki.”
if ni-ki’s heart didn’t stop before, it did now. he felt his brain short circuit, the words he had dreamed of hearing you say now becoming reality.
he chuckled and smiled, the boxy one that made your chest warm. “i love you more, princess.” he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear looking at you like you had hung the moon and stars for him.
his hand cupped your cheek, his palm warm underneath you. your eyes fluttered momentarily, leaning into his touch. ni-ki watched you quietly all with a reverent look on his face, his boba eyes making your heart skip.
he leaned closer, his minty breath mixing with yours. you traced the outline of his lips with your finger, letting him kiss the pad of it.
the tension between you two was thick, but it wasn’t heated. it was more quiet, trying to see who would break first after all this time.
you have him a small smile and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his. “are you gonna kiss me or not?” you asked him
his eyes lit up as he carefully grabbed your chin, his thumb dragging over your bottom lip. “you’re sure?” you nodded your head and leaned closer, lips ghosting his. ni-ki pulled his head back, his familiar teasing smile on his lips.
“words, baby.”
you sighed despite feeling anything but annoyance. “please, kiss me.” and who was ni-ki to deny you anything?
ni-ki closed the space between you two and kissed you slowly, tongue tracing the shape of your lips and gently nipping the plush skin of your bottom lip. you let out a small surprised noise, nipping his bottom lip back. “hey!” you swatted his shoulder and he laughed, head resting against the couch cushion behind him.
he massaged your hips, thumbs ghosting over your hipbone. “have i ever told you how beautiful you are?” he whispered.
your cheeks warmed and you looked away, trying to focus on anything but him. “you don’t have to say all that just because we kissed…”
“maybe i’m tired of holding everything in from you.” his words sent a shiver down your spine. and it only solidified how stupid you were.
how could you ever miss the signs in front of you. or miss how loudly and unapologetically ni-ki loved you.
“i’m sorry.” you whispered again and ni-ki shook his head, pulling you down for another kiss. it was more tender than the last, like he was trying to pour all of his love into you.
“i’m sorry. for almost ruining us.” he placed small pecks to your cheeks, smothering you in his affection. “the most beautiful girl ever,” he pecked your lips, now kissing any part of you that he could reach. “so pretty, so sweet,”
he leaned down to your neck, grinning when you squirmed at the kisses. “so smart and funny,” he trailed back up to your face, determined to leave no part of your skin untouched. “my perfect girl, hmm?” he nudged his nose against your cheek, exhaling a sigh of relief.
“i don’t remember you asking me out.” you said playfully, your body slowly melting against him as he began to rub your back.
“patience, pretty. give me about one week and i’ll never stop calling you mine.” you lifted your head to look at him, the sincerity in his eyes making you feel giddy.
“you really love me?” you asked him almost bashfully.
“i mean i think i just went through hell to get you, so yeah. i really love you.” you giggled and pecked his lips.
“i really love you too.” ni-ki’s smile widened even more, holding you tightly like he was trying to merge you two into one.
he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the ring. “forever?” he asked softly. you kissed the corner of his mouth before laying comfortably, eyes closing again.
“forever, ki.”
⋆˙⟡
a year later and you were finally a senior, your final year in college and it felt bittersweet. jay and sunghoon graduated last year, but they were still around. always stopping by to have dinner or drinks with ni-ki.
eunchae and you were still best friends, if not closer. which made her cry as she helped you move into ni-ki’s apartment. “it’s not fair, you know.” she mumbled “i had you first.” you laughed and walked over to her, kissing her cheek.
“aww you’ll always be my first, chae.”
“can you two not?” ni-ki asked dryly, looking unamused at the casual affection between you two. eunchae glared at him, wrapping her arms around you.
“face it, she’s mine.” ni-ki smirked and held up his left hand, the silver band giving her a rude awakening.
“actually, she’s mine. my fiancée so, whose is she really?” you rolled your eyes at their bickering.
“all right, let’s-“
“it took you three years to tell her how you even felt!”
“because i was scared!”
“sounds like excuses to me. you’re really gonna stay with a man like that?” eunchae asked you, eyes narrowing at ni-ki.
he scoffed and tossed his hands up in the air “she said yes, so clearly she is!”
you simply shook your head and went back to unpacking, letting their bickering become background noise for you.
it felt like everything had changed once you and ni-ki admitted you liked each other. but in the end, nothing did. your feelings and relationship grew stronger, proving that it was always going to be you two no matter what.
you were snapped out of your through by two familiar arms wrapping around your waist. “hmm?” your head tilted to the side as ni-ki pressed an onslaught of kisses to your neck. “where’d eunchae go?”
“to get more stuff.” you laughed softly looking at him amused.
“and you’re not gonna help?”
“she’s got it. besides, my fiancée needs my attention at all times.” you turned around to face him letting his hands linger near your hips.
“you’re so corny.” you teased, poking his stomach. he only shrugged and leaned down to kiss you.
“only for you, baby.” he sighed and hugged you tightly before letting you go a bit. “hey, you’re sure you’re okay with all this?” one of his hands went to your left one, the rock on your finger almost blinding you.
you looked around ni-ki’s apartment, soon to be both of yours. there was no nerves, no ‘what if’s’ because with ni-ki you never had to worry about him. he made it clear that you were the only one for him and you couldn’t help but think the same thing.
“i couldn’t be happier.”
⋆˙⟡
a/n: ahhh, it’s here! i’m sorry if this sucks, i’m still trying to get better at writing😭 but if you read all the way through, thank you so much! i hope you guys like this one too. stay safe and take care of urselves <33!
